Missing Scene for "The Labyrinth of Gedref"
Relief flooded through Merlin that Arthur had once more escaped death – no thanks to him! He tried to ignore the mental torture as he dragged Arthur's dead weight further up the beach towards a spot with some sand and tufts of grass. "All is well," he tried to tell himself. "Arthur lives, therefore all is well"…Merlin's brain wouldn't stop torturing him though, with the knowledge that HE was the reason Arthur nearly died. Again. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why Arthur couldn't see his own importance – enough to stop insisting on sacrificing himself for Merlin anyway. Didn't Arthur know how important it was that he, Arthur, should survive? In the back of his mind another, more rational voice reminded him that an Arthur who would sacrifice a servant wouldn't inspire the devotion that he felt – the devotion that kept him running to the ends of the earth to save him, even from himself.
Merlin didn't know how long the sleeping draught would last, but he knew he couldn't drag Arthur's bulk very far. Not without magic anyway, and Gaius' voice was loud in his head warning him about the superfluous use of magic. So, he settled on a sandy spot with a bit of grass at the bottom of the cliff, about 15 feet from the waves. He would wait here until Arthur woke up. Thank the heavens that he WOULD wake up. Even though he was no physician, he could feel Arthur's heart beating strong and his breath deep. His master was in a deep sleep, but he was safe.
…
Arthur was drifting peacefully, comfortably. He was done dreaming, and he was in that pleasant spot between dreaming and wakefulness. There was something nagging at him, but he couldn't quite place what it was and… well at the moment he was too comfortable to try very hard to figure it out. He was warm and he felt completely safe. As he rose to the surface a little bit more, he realized he wasn't completely warm – in fact his bum was decidedly chilly. His torso though was warm and he felt so safe and comfortable and relaxed, he didn't really want to move a muscle.
Gradually, Arthur realized that he could feel a cool sea breeze on his face, it was lovely but…something still wasn't right. Something was nagging at the back of his brain. He took a deep breath in of the lovely sea air and smelled Merlin. He realized that the warmth surrounding him was Merlin. Realization finally bloomed in his brain even as his body was still paralyzed with sleep, and he realized where he was… he wasn't dead! He was supposed to be dead. Why wasn't he dead? All of a sudden he remembered the beach and the poison and… was this death? This couldn't be death, it was too…comfortable.
As he finally came fully awake, he didn't start, he just popped open an eye. A late afternoon sky greeted him – gah it was bright! He closed the eye again as he took in his surroundings and situation through his other senses. He realized that the warmth that was still cradling him was Merlin. Merlin must have dragged him up the beach, and even now he was lying on his back against Merlin's chest with warm arms around him. He realized that the warm weight on the top of his head must be Merlin's head – Merlin must have fallen asleep himself waiting for Arthur to wake up. As Arthur started to stir, Merlin awoke – his head came up and his arms disengaged from around his body. Although Arthur's mind was already on the situation, his tactics, their next move, at some deep level he immediately missed the comfort and safety of those arms around him. Why he should feel safe in the arms of his manservant… he shook his head and sat up. "Crazy" he thought, "Must be the residual effects of the drug." And he pushed the feeling away as he pushed to his feet.
Feet that were immediately wet and very cold. "What the!" As he stumbled forward another step his feet got wetter and colder, and he realized that was because while they were sleeping the tide had come in. Their 20 foot wide beach had become 4 feet wide! "Merlin!" he hollered at a groggy manservant just wiping the sleep out of his own eyes and scrambling to his feet.
"What?!" exclaimed Merlin, still getting his own bearings.
"Keeping up the stellar record of intelligence, I see! Another few minutes of slumber and we might have drown!"
"Oh, stop being so melodramatic" quipped Merlin, looking around. So, we might have gotten our feet a bit wet, it's not the end of the world."
"MY feet are already wet" pointed out Arthur, now shin deep.
Merlin tried not to smile, but didn't quite make it. Although, to his credit, the smile was, by most standards, fleeting.
Nothing Merlin did or said ever escaped Arthur's notice though, and Merlin smiling at his discomfort wasn't improving his mood…or his wet feet. He sloshed up to the grassy bit where Merlin was standing – with dry feet. "What were you thinking, falling asleep on a tidal shore? Can you not see that we were lying below the tide line? Would it have killed you to drag me another few feet to get us above it?" He badgered, pointing up to the grassy knoll a few feet higher further along the shore right under the base of the cliff.
"Um, well, actually"
"Seriously, Merlin? What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that you're a heavy sod who I should have just left lying on the rocks until you came to your senses! Besides, uh…" Merlin trailed off, seemingly mesmerized by the ocean waves and beautiful colours racing across the horizon as the world was coming to an end for the day.
"Besides what?" Asked Arthur as he glanced around trying to figure out what Merlin was distracted by. It was shaping up to be a pretty sunset, for sure, but what was so mesmerizing about that?
"I've heard of the tide, of course,"started Merlin, transfixed as he was by the changing colours reflecting in the waves.
"Meaning?" Arthur turned back to study Merlin's face.
"Well, it's just I've never actually seen one before. I've never seen the ocean before." Finally Merlin's eyes darted back to Arthur and he grinned. The kind of truly joyful grin Arthur always tried to resist with gruffness, but never succeeded very well at doing.
Arthur grinned back for just a moment – something rising in him at seeing Merlin so joyful – at being the one to show, and share, something new with the manservant. He quickly mastered himself though, and became the stern master, as was becoming and proper.
Merlin had seen enough though and grinned a bit bigger as he turned back to the show the heavens were displaying, steeling himself for Arthur's forthcoming gruffness. Arthur – the Arthur he would go to the ends of the earth for – had shown himself in that moment, and Merlin knew this gruff, sometimes bullying façade was just that – for show; although at this exact moment Merlin wasn't exactly sure who the show was for. He tucked that thought away though, as he enjoyed the novel experience of the sunset over the ocean.
In a split second Merlin was no longer grinning. Having turned away from Arthur, he never saw him coming, and all of a sudden he found himself experiencing the ocean much more intimately than he had planned.
Arthur grabbed Merlin's tunic, took a few steps and pushed him ass first into the cold waves. "Well, now you've more than just seen the ocean! What a story you'll have to tell your grandkids!" laughed Arthur as a fresh wave splashed over Merlin.
Merlin sputtered and gasped as the cold water hit him like a hammer and seeped to the skin. He was up like a shot and dancing around, racing toward the sliver of dry land that remained beneath the cliff. The air was getting colder as the sunset was fading. Nevertheless he tried a few grapples at Arthur to subject him to the same torture, but the expert warrior was ready for him, and Merlin knew that without pulling out a few …unadvisable tricks…he'd never get the best of him. He gave up after a moment and just stood there shivering and dripping.
Arthur took a look at Merlin, looked around and finally fully realized their situation. It wouldn't be very wise to drink a goblet of poison to save your manservant, only to have him die of exposure on a beach. They both realized that to get back to the entrance to the labyrinth, and thus back to their horses, they would have to wade through the now quickly rising tide.
"Follow me" Arthur said, and quickly started leading them through the waves to the labyrinth. Fortunately there was only one deeper dip in the once sandy, now ocean-covered beach, and by the time they got back to the beach entrance, Arthur was only wet to just above his knees. Merlin was shaking and he was starting to stumble a bit. Arthur knew this was not a good sign, but they couldn't stop until they at least made it through the labyrinth to their horses, so he pushed Merlin ahead of him through the labyrinth and did his best to come up with the most creative insults possible about the laziness and ineptitude of his servant. Better to have Merlin angry and stewing at him than focusing on his shivering.
--- --- --- --- --- ---
By the time they made it out of the labyrinth, Merlin was stumbling badly, and he had nearly stopped shaking. As Arthur reached out to grab him and keep him from falling, he felt how cold Merlin's skin was, even with the exercise of practically jogging through the labyrinth.
As they came up on the horses, Arthur grabbed his bedroll – which was part of the kit always attached to his saddle – and tossed it on the ground.
"Strip, Merlin." He ordered.
Merlin had crouched into a ball the minute Arthur had stopped moving and sat there in a daze. He didn't seem to even hear the order.
Arthur had been on enough campaigns in the cold winter rain to know the dangers of the bone deep cold he could see coming over Merlin. Although it wasn't winter, that ocean had been cold and it was a chilly evening. He knew he had to get Merlin warmed up as quickly as possible. A quick glance at Merlin's horse told him Merlin hadn't stopped to pack any supplies before coming after him – typical. So, all they had was the standard contents of Arthur's saddlebag – the bedroll, some flint, a cup, and Arthur's cape on the back of his saddle. Not much, but he would make do.
"Merlin, take off your clothes." He said as he lifted Merlin up to standing.
"C-c-c-old" stuttered Merlin as his fumbling bluish fingers came up to the buttons on his shirt.
To expedite matters, Arthur batted the fingers away and finished the job himself, peeling the wet fabric away from Merlin's chest and trying not to tear it in his haste to get it off his arms. He started to work on the knot of Merlin's neckerchief, but quickly abandoned that, realizing it would take longer and have less effect than getting Merlin's pants and boots off. He got Merlin's waistband undone and pushed his pants down. He looked around to figure out where he could sit Merlin down to finish the job. He walked away a few paces to unpack the bedroll and spread it in a good spot to make a fire for the night, and pulled a log over next to the bedroll.
Looking back, the shivering, mostly naked boy hadn't moved, he was just standing in a daze where Arthur left him, hugging himself, trying to get warm. A pang went through Arthur seeing him there – so vulnerable, and in a way, so trusting. Here was his servant, always being ordered around, doing whatever he was told – badly often, but still. He was always there faithfully serving Arthur, even when Arthur told him not to, like this afternoon. An anger welled up inside him as he thought about the danger Merlin had put himself in today. He had been so relieved to see him there on the beach – that feeling of safety around Merlin unexpectedly welled up again even as he stepped back towards the shivering boy wearing only a neckerchief and pants around his knees. And yet … he burned at the thought of Merlin having being in danger this afternoon because of him. He could no more kill Merlin than he could his own father; The silly "test" of his "heart" didn't prove that Arthur would give up his life for his servant, it just proved that he would give up his life for Merlin. That, he already well knew.
Instead of trying to lead Merlin over to the bedroll, Arthur quickly concluded that it would be easier to carry him, so he scooped him up. Merlin's thoughts were moving so sluggishly that he only realized what was happening and started to protest as Arthur was setting his bare bum on the bedroll, with his back against the log.
Merlin started to struggle weakly as his foggy brain realized his undignified state.
Arthur was going to have none of it though. "Just settle down Merlin. I'm taking care of you right now. Although don't get used to it." He added with all the gruffness he could muster. He pushed Merlin back into the bedroll and grabbed his feet, tugging to remove his boots, and then fighting with the wet pants.
Merlin tried to cover himself and kicked a bit as Arthur tugged at his legs.
As Arthur finally got the last of the wet clothes off, he noticed Merlin's sudden shyness with amusement and chuckled. "Too late for that Merlin, the show's over now." Arthur grabbed his cloak and pulled Merlin's hands up as he rubbed Merlin down with it to remove any remaining moisture from the boy's body.
Merlin felt not a little like a horse after a long ride with Arthur rubbing him with the cloak, but his brain was still moving so slowly, that by the time he was ready to protest, Arthur was tucking him in between the layers of the bedroll. He was shivering again, although he didn't understand why – he hadn't been shivering a few minutes ago. Just as Merlin thought he was going to be able to curl back into a ball and try to get warm, he felt Arthur tugging at him again. Merlin tried to push Arthur away; he just wanted to curl up into a ball and go to sleep.
"Stop it Merlin, I'm almost done" said Arthur as he pulled Merlin's torso between his legs and pinned his arms down with his knees to stop Merlin's wiggling.
Merlin had a vague thought about how just recently he was cradling Arthur just like this…except he wasn't restraining Arthur the way Arthur was restraining him. He was just about to get his sluggish tongue to say something suitably cutting when Arthur pulled out his knife.
"Forget this – I don't have patience for a neckerchief" muttered Arthur and he brought the knife up to Merlin's neck, slicing through the wet fabric. Finally, the last piece of cold fell away from Merlin – he hadn't even realized it was still there.
Now, shivering violently, Merlin was finally allowed to curl into a ball in Arthur's bedroll. He whimpered when he lost Arthur's body heat as Arthur drew away and propped Merlin up against the log.
"I have to make us a fire Merlin. The night will only get colder and my bedroll is not very warm." Merlin nodded as his eyelids drooped. "Merlin, MERLIN! You cannot fall asleep just yet. Just a while longer, but please try to stay awake." As Merlin's eyes continued to droop Arthur changed tactics and he raised his voice. "Merlin! You lazy, good-for-nothing excuse for a servant. I should be making you gather firewood and start a fire. I'm sure you'll be telling tales about how the softie Prince Arthur let you get away with all sorts of laziness as soon as you get back. Well, let me tell you, you won't have time to be telling all sorts of lies. When you get back, you're going to have to…" and Arthur proceeded to reel off every horrible, dirty, grimy chore he could think of while he quickly gathered some firewood and lit a fire. He kept glancing back and he could see that while droopy, Merlin was managing to keep his eyelids open. He was still shivering badly, and Arthur could see that he was trying unsuccessfully to come up with some rebuttals for the list of chores. 'Good,' smiled Arthur to himself. If Merlin was annoyed with him, then his mind was not on his shivering, and he was not about to fall asleep. Arthur had seen too many men fall asleep cold, wet and shivering, only to never awaken. That was not going to happen tonight.
…
Although Merlin continued to lie propped up against the log shivering, tucked tightly into Arthur's bed roll, his brain was starting to move again and he was beginning to be able to think straight. It occurred to him as he watched Arthur bustling around making camp that the man had more domestic skills than his mess of a room and constant ordering around of Merlin would lead one to imagine. Arthur had gathered wood, made a fire, and had used Merlin's tightly woven sack held up with some sticks leaning over the fire to boil some water. Merlin was actually impressed. Yes, the contents of said sack – some vials and packets of herbs that Gaius had had him collecting the day before – were scattered on the ground, and all of Merlin's clothes and Arthur's cloak were in piles where they had been dropped – that was more like Arthur's chambers! But within a few minutes of tucking Merlin into his bedroll, they were on their way to having some hot water. Merlin squirmed a bit, trying to re-adjust the scratchy blanket around him, and saw Arthur looking back at him momentarily. The long list of chores had ceased, but Merlin could see that Arthur was still watching to make sure he didn't doze off. When Arthur saw his eyes open and watching him, he continued on without comment. It seemed he had run out of menial chores to list, thought Merlin to himself with a small smile. Now that his mind was clearing, he was quite enjoying the master become the servant. Or was it watching Arthur taking care of him? Either way, he smiled a bit about that, too.
Although he was still very cold, Merlin's shivering was getting less intense as he watched Arthur. While waiting for the bag of water to heat, Arthur finally started pulling off his shoulder armor and the chain mail that was still covering his upper body. Off came Arthur's boots, pants, and chausses, and only then did Merlin realize how cold Arthur must have been all this time too. Sure his armor kept his upper body warm, but Arthur was also soaked through to above his knees. It's about time Arthur got his own wet clothes off! Merlin felt a pang of guilt, along with the warmth starting to spread through him as he watched Arthur bustle back to the fire wearing just his red shift and loin cloth. He squirmed a bit more and felt the rough fabric of the bedroll scratch gently against him. He wanted to make some clever comment about royals and their regard for undergarments but… nothing suitable came to mind just then as he watched Arthur move back around the fire.
Arthur brought over a cup full of warm water and insisted Merlin take a drink. Merlin thought vaguely that they could have made some sort of tea with the herbs Merlin had been collecting, now scattered next to the fire, but he wasn't about to move from his cocoon, and Arthur was no herbalist. So, he just gratefully accepted the steaming tin cup and savored the warmth as it slid down into his belly. Water never tasted so good.
As Merlin's shivering subsided with the warm drink in him, his eyelids got uncontrollably droopy again. 'To heck with Arthur's chores-listing' Merlin thought groggily as he slid his back off the log and curled up on the ground. Since Arthur's tirade didn't start up again, he figured it must be ok to be giving in to the sleepy now. As he slid inevitably towards the comfortable darkness of slumber, he was just conscious enough to feel a warm cloak being tucked around him over the bed roll blanket. He had only a brief moment to wonder where Arthur would sleep with his cloak warming him, before he was gone.
…
As Arthur tucked the edges of his cloak around the sleeping Merlin, he paused to brush his manservant's hair away from his face and tuck an edge of the cloak under his ear for a bit of a pillow. It struck him in the chest just how beautiful Merlin was and how much he would do to keep Merlin from harm. Not an easy task considering how many evil sorcerers there seemed to be out there, bent on taking down the Pendragon name. He was so glad to have Merlin always near him, and yet he feared for his manservant sometimes. What if one day Merlin really got between Arthur and the next evil witch or warlock to come along? Arthur had been raised with the belief in his own strength, and his code of honor and responsibilities. He would gladly die to safeguard his kingdom, his people, and yes, his manservant. But to have others die for him? That's a lesson he knew his father had been trying to teach him for years, and yet…it's not one he could come to terms with; especially when it came to Merlin.
But, enough of this maudlin thinking; Arthur shook himself and with one more stroke of his manservant's forehead – just to assure himself that Merlin was sleeping comfortably and not freezing to death, of course – got himself up to finish his evening's preparations. He was getting pretty cold himself prancing around in the night with his bare legs and feet. Arthur took a moment to warm himself by the fire and take a portion of hot water.
By the time Arthur finished gathering and staking all of their wet garments by the fire so that they would be dry for the morning, he was shivering pretty badly. He had finished off the hot water, and taken the bag off the fire so that it wouldn't burn up, and now… now Arthur could think of nothing other than getting warm himself. Although his bare skin had dried quickly once the wet clothes came off, the night was getting chilly.
He looked over again to where Merlin was sleeping soundly curled up under the bedroll and cloak and … well what the hell was he thinking? There was no problem here! Merlin wasn't some blushing maiden for whom Arthur need be solicitous of virtue. Arthur blushed at that thought, although if asked he couldn't have put his finger on why. Merlin was a servant. His servant. He was well within his rights to just demand Merlin vacate the warm covers so Arthur could curl up in them! Arthur blushed again at the thought of the groggy manservant stumbling around – his smooth, white body glowing in the light of the campfire as he tried to find another place to sleep… Enough! Arthur pushed down the instinct to bully and something else - wherever these damn blushes were coming from – and made the logical decision that Merlin would just have to share his cozy cocoon. He was the Prince, after all! There was nothing wrong with him claiming his due. He wasn't about to kick Merlin into the cold night, after all. He was a good, kind Prince. Hadn't he already proved that today?
--- --- --- --- --- ---
Again, Arthur's mind drifted slowly to the surface before his body awoke. He was warm and comfortable and again, a feeling of complete relaxation enveloped him because, although his mind was starting to realize that he was sprawled on his back on the forest floor, he again felt completely safe – nothing could hurt him; he was protected. He knew this in his soul, although as his mind drifted to wakefulness, he didn't know why he should feel that way. It reminded him of his childhood and the way he would feel when his nurse would rock him to sleep in a chair in his father's chambers. Those nights when he was so sure of the evil witches hiding under his bed that he would insist that he could only sleep with the safety and strength that father represented close by. In a forest full of dangers exotic and mundane, there was no logical reason for this languid, comfortable feeling of complete security he felt right now. Mostly, he was a symbol of security to others, as was his father. To them belonged the guardianship of Camelot, after all, and just yesterday he had managed to fix what he had broken in that regard when he had killed the unicorn. But … Arthur didn't feel safe because of his own strength. He had far too intimate a knowledge of his own failings for that. His mind drifted back off into a doze as he left the questions that occur in a half-waking state to ponder for another day.
He came to realize that he was warm because, while he had bedroll under him, he had Merlin lying almost completely on top of him with the cloak still impossibly draped over them both. Merlin's face was tilted up and pressed into his neck, and Arthur could feel Merlin's breath gently moving across his cheek and shoulder. While Merlin's hip was next to his thigh on the blanket of the bed roll, Merlin's chest was completely on top of Arthur, and the entire length of Merlin's leg was securely ensconced between his own. Clearly, Merlin liked to keep his hands warm as he slept, because he had found the warmest possible spots for them. One hand was balled up in Arthur's armpit, and the other… well, while Merlin wasn't actually cupping him, his hand was firmly demanding its place in the warmest nook of Arthur's body. Said nook was cooling down a bit now though, since Arthur's morning erection was rapidly becoming more pronounced as he realized all these details. Arthur's loin cloth hadn't seemed to deter a sleeping Merlin in the least, just as his red shift hadn't prevented Merlin from working his hand up under it to be bent in on itself at a strange angle under Arthur's arm. How that could possibly be comfortable Arthur would never understand.
Merlin, clearly still asleep, wriggled a bit, like he was trying to burrow even further into the warmth that Arthur – his pillow, thought Arthur wryly – represented. Unwilling right then to disturb this feeling of comfort and safety that he was still enjoying, Arthur decided that for the moment, he would just continue to sleep. Whether he was pretending to stay asleep, to see what would happen when Merlin woke up, or just too lazy to move just yet, well, he wasn't going to examine too far. Arthur pulled up the cloak that had worked its way down Merlin's shoulders, and inhaled deeply as he snugged Merlin in beneath the cloak, and just continued to doze with his arms wrapped securely around his manservant until the world should require something different of him.
…
Just starting to wake from a deep sleep uninterrupted by his standard fare of dreams filled with worries and spells and sorcerers and mythical creatures come to attack Arthur and Camelot, Merlin vaguely felt that annoying cold patch on his back warm up as arms tightened around him. He was so cozy he had no desire to actually continue waking up, but as waking is inevitable, he tried to just hold on to the comfort and security he was enjoying a little while longer. As he woke a little more, he realized that the arms holding him tightly, and the scent he was breathing in were Arthur's – did Arthur just snuggle him? With that thought, Merlin woke completely, and realized exactly where he was.
…
Arthur felt the moment Merlin woke up. Although his instinct was to hold his breath and see what Merlin would do, he knew that would alert Merlin to the fact that he was awake, and, he wasn't sure why, but he wanted Merlin to believe he was still asleep. So, he kept his breathing even and his eyes closed. He felt Merlin lift his head a couple of inches and take in his surroundings. Down it went again, and Arthur surprised himself by hoping against hope that Merlin would just leave his head down and doze off again – give them a few more minutes of this peacefulness. But no, Merlin was moving his hands up towards his chest in preparation for getting up. Arthur couldn't tell if the sensations he felt… was Merlin stroking him, or was he just brushing his skin on his way to disengaging his hands? Arthur worked hard not to let his breath hitch. Somehow he knew that if Merlin knew he was awake, this wonderful moment would be over. He briefly contemplated feigning a stretch and rolling on top of Merlin – to prevent him leaving – but in that instant the image of the virtuous maiden popped into his mind again. He didn't know why, because it was ridiculous, but it distracted him just long enough that the moment passed before he could act.
As Merlin pushed himself slowly up off Arthur, Arthur could see through his lashes what he had earlier felt. Merlin's length was also hard. Arthur now did stretch and made a bit of a show of re-adjusting under the blankets so that he was on his side – seemingly still asleep. He could now see the whole campsite through his eyelashes without giving himself away. Merlin just stood there for a moment rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching. Arthur had a perfect angle view of the beautiful manservant in the dazzling morning sunshine – white skin shining and hard length seemingly getting longer as Merlin stretched his back and arms. 'Poor man must be sore after a long night on such a lumpy pillow,' thought Arthur with some amusement.
…
Merlin stretched his kinks out as he looked around at the campsite. He realized now how completely out of it he had been last night. Although he had been cold before, he didn't think he had ever been that cold – he had always lived in a village where there was always a bed by a warm fire, and he had never had to be out in the elements all night like soldiers and hunters often were. He really was grateful to Arthur for taking care of him like that. He blushed as he thought about why his night had been so comfortable and turned back to gaze at his sleeping Prince. Thank goodness Arthur hadn't seen his morning arousal! He was often stiff in the mornings, but today… today was far more … urgent… than usual. In fact, he placed a hand on himself as he continued to watch Arthur sleep; he didn't think this would subside on its own as it usually did. He looked down and realized what he was starting to do. He was suddenly horrified that the Prince might wake at any moment and see him like this! So undignified and so… well, what would he think? No, Arthur had taken good care of him last night, and it had been a wonderful reprieve from everyday life. He would never forget the bone deep peace he had felt as he awoke this morning. But Merlin's job, his calling, was to serve Arthur, and he needed to get back to that. Right now.
Merlin trotted off into the forest a little ways to relieve all his morning needs and wash a bit in the nearby stream.
Arthur, watching him go, flipped over to face the log and relieved his most urgent need almost violently. Why he should feel so frustrated, almost angry all of a sudden, he didn't know. He was just frustrated with the continued ineptitude of his manservant, he supposed. Merlin hadn't done anything wrong YET, of course, but the day was young.
By the time Merlin came ambling back into the clearing with a handful of berries he'd found on a bush next to the stream, Arthur had his trousers on, had stoked the fire and was in the process of rolling up the bedroll.
"Did you bring water?" Arthur asked gruffly as the still naked boy dumped the berries next to the fire.
"Uh, I didn't have anything to carry it in," mumbled Merlin at the suddenly gruff tone. He wasn't usually upset by Arthur's demands, but at this moment he inexplicably felt ready to cry. Merlin quickly grabbed up his now dry clothes – filing away in the back of his mind how impressed he was that Arthur had taken the time last night to neatly stake all their clothes by the fire to dry. In those few moments in the woods, Merlin had, perhaps foolishly, thought that Arthur would be pleased with the berries when he woke up and… and what? Merlin didn't know, exactly. An image of berries on lips and some gentle kisses came unexpectedly to his brain… but he pushed that thought away quickly. What on earth was he thinking?
"Well, hurry up with that, will you?" groused Arthur, "Worst servant ever, I swear."
"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bedroll, didn't they, sire?" muttered Merlin as he scurried back to the creek for a bag of water for their morning tea. Breakfast today would be a lovely herbal tea and fresh berries… not that Arthur would appreciate it. 'Ah well,' muttered Merlin. 'Back to life; Back to Camelot.'