Chapter 1- Little Things
The jaw, of all things, was usually the thing he noticed most about Arthur. At every angle it was there, wide and strong and just- Unsure about the un-lettered sentiments that followed, the servant would turn his back, go back to work, shake his head. His opinion of that man changed so rapidly. One moment he was bubbling with resentment at the indignity the stupid clot pole was showering him with, then a kind of awe at the strength and unfathomable weight on his young shoulders. Then things get thrown at him and he pursues his lips all over again.
The silence, almost tangible without his seemingly ever present clumsy, imbecile Merlin, hung about him. He didn't regret throwing that boot but for a moment, in the calm after the banterish confrontation, he stood almost frowning. There was a little pinch in his stomach which widened in the nothingness before he shook his head and tried to ignore the dizzying confusion growing inside his head. He had his responsibilities to think about; he spent enough time trying to save his hapless servant from danger without thinking about him any longer than necessary. Yet…he shook his head, turned from is servant's departure and went to bed, rubbing his jaw.
The hair. It was stupid; the way he shook it over his eyes made no sense to the dark-haired one. Why keep it long enough to cover the face? The spoiled prince should get it cut, perhaps in a more similar style to his sensible companion, who nodded to himself in the small bucket of water he was gazing into, thinking about the Prince's hair. He looked into his own eyes and for a horrible moment didn't recognise himself, what expression was that? Blinking almost confusedly, he smiled nervously and broke his reflection with a cloth as he continued to wash the floor.
The sparkle was missing. It came to him as he lay in bed. It had come to him as soon as he had relaxed into the matrass; he had a feeling that those eyes would be in his head all through the night. He sat up and frowned, remembering. Merlin had brought something that he had cleaned and Arthur had reprimanded him for a missed patch, or something. The prince shook his head, ignoring the other details he saw again those deep eyes. He thought that his servant had been tired, or, just. Down. This idea made him… Why couldn't he express himself properly? It irritated him and he tousled his hair, pouted and then threw himself back and tried not to think.