Title: Breakfast
Warnings: None
Words: 753
Summary: Merlin's stomach is annoying and Arthur is amused and then...nice? Canon-verse
"Arthur. Arthur wake up." Merlin yanked on the heavy drapes, letting bright sunlight flood into the chamber. "Come on. I've got breakfast. Bread, cheese, and-look! Sausages! Your favorite."
A sleepy groan was emitted from the mound of covers situated haphazardly on the large bed. Merlin grinned as he strode over and proceeded to deprive the prince of his cocoon, jerking hard on the fabric until it pooled on the floor. "Come on, sleepy head. If I have to be up this early, so do you."
Arthur rolled over and gifted the young warlock with his best annoyed glare.
"That's the spirit," he stated cheerily, extracting the prince's clothes from the wardrobe before tossing them on the bed and practically manhandling the prince from the bed and into them.
"Merlin. Merlin! Alright–I'm up!"
Once the prince was dressed and decent enough, he sat down heavily at the table and began tucking in. Merlin began wandering around the room picking up discarded clothing and replacing the bedsheets. He reached down, noticing one of Arthur's shirts poking out from under the bed, and discovered the hidden collection of dirty abandoned clothing that littered the floor under the prince's bed. Merlin sighed before slithering under to toss the clothing out.
His stomach gave an irritating growl. He had barely gotten up in time to rush off and wake up the prince, skipping breakfast himself and running into three separate servants in his haste to fetch the prince's breakfast and wake him up in time. It was a miracle he had woken up at all this morning. Arthur had given him a long list of chores that had him running about until the wee hours of the morning, washing this and doing that in preparation for the arrival of some stuck up nobles from some far off kingdom somewhere. He really couldn't care less. It affected his sleep and therefore was a nuisance.
"–Merlin."
Merlin started, smacking his head on the bed frame as he was reaching for a particularly stubborn sock that had somehow made its way to the far side.
"What!" he snapped, extracting himself from the small space and sitting back on his heels. He rubbed his head with a wince, eyes watering as his head throbbed slightly. That was definitely going to leave a bump.
"Come here."
Merlin flashed the prince a questioning look before slowly getting up off the floor. He plopped himself down into the chair beside Arthur.
"Here," Arthur pushed the remaining food toward the young warlock. "Eat."
Merlin glanced at the plate of half-eaten food skeptically. "Whyyyy?" he asked, drawing out the word.
"Because Merlin, I can hear your stomach roaring like a wild animal. I'm sure the entire kingdom can hear it. Now eat, before that animal in you decides to eat its host." He shoved the food further toward the young warlock.
The skepticism didn't leave Merlin's face. "You didn't poison it? It's not foul, rotten, badly spiced, or god forbid, cold?" He poked a sausage as though it would bite his finger off. "Are you sick? Drink too much mead? Dying?!"
A look of amused annoyance flared on the prince's face. He rolled his eyes. "Really Merlin, just eat it before I change my mind." A feeling of affection spread through the young warlock. He could tell Arthur was trying to hide his concern behind a mask of annoyance, but Merlin saw right through it. Deep down, the prince really did care.
"Well, just remember, if I die there will be nobody around to polish your boots." Merlin smirked before taking a bite of sausage. Arthur broke off a piece of bread from the plate, munching on it while the young warlock chowed down. He finished off the plate in no time, licking his fingers clean. Definitely one of the best meals he had ever had. He looked at the empty plate longingly.
Arthur chuckled. "Good?" Merlin nodded. "Good. Now go finish your chores. Our guests should be arriving this afternoon and I expect everything to be ready by then."
"Yes, sire," Merlin said, with no hint of sarcasm or mocking in his tone. He gathered up the empty plate, balanced it on top the dirty laundry he had collected from around the room before striding toward the door with his charge. Just before he closed the door, he looked back at Arthur, who was staring down at the table, deep in thought.
"Arthur." The prince glanced up. Merlin flashed him a caring smile. "Thank you."
THE END