NO SLASH, just intoxicating fluff.

WARNING : This fic is set in an alternate universe, in which Merlin and Arthur are twelve year old boys in modern England, and Uther is a politician. Don't be scared, though; it's completely plotless. Just harmless fluff ^^
MAY CONTAIN : Fourteen-year-old good!Morgana, little twelve-year-old Merlin, little twelve-year-old Arthur, Uther Pendragon the politician of DOOM, Hunith the super mama (lol), everything it says in the title, and mentions of people.
Disclaimer : *sigh* I own nothing. I think I might own the idea, though. Not the characters, no. But maybe the raw basics of this fic.

OKAY, this is an IMMENSE drabbley thing. Just mindless fluff and a hint of insanity await you as you embark on this journey... INTO MY WORDS.
lol I'm sorry XD I hope you like it!

A twelve year old Merlin was bouncing around his house in his excitement to see Arthur.

Arthur Pendragon was Merlin's best friend at school, but he had a lot of other friends too, so he was often busy. Merlin, on the other hand, spent most of his days alone with his mother. Hunith was a kind woman; she always encouraged her son to make new friends. Merlin did have other friends, but they were all into sports, and he'd only met them through Arthur. Merlin was rubbish at sports.

Arthur was the head of the sports team, and he knew everyone by name. He was very good friends with Leon, Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot, and Elyan, all of whom were on the team. Well, he wasn't really good friends with Elyan, but he sort of had a crush on Elyan's sister Gwen, so he liked to believe that they got along fantastically. He was still best friends with Merlin; they had known each other since they were in kindergarten. None of his other friends questioned his loyalty to the skinny bookworm.

And that Saturday morning, Merlin had got a call from Arthur, asking if he'd like to come over. Merlin tried not to be too enthusiastic, but he saw his mother grinning at his obvious eagerness while he was on the phone.

Merlin was to go to Arthur's enormous house (Arthur's family was a lot richer than Merlin's) and they would find something to do. Arthur's house was much more interesting than Merlin's; he had a huge flat-screen TV, a hundred video games, two cats and a dog, and, Merlin's favourite; a monstrous library, with every book you could or couldn't think of. The library was so big; it took up an entire floor.

Merlin and his mother lived in a simple two-floored flat, with two bedrooms upstairs, and a kitchen, a bathroom, a dining table, and a small living room downstairs. Merlin always got excited at the chance to see someone else's house, because it was usually far more interesting than his own home.

Hunith was calmly drying some dishes, watching her son bounce off the walls, chattering about everything and nothing all the while. Merlin's father had left them when the boy was very young, not even leaving a memory to be remembered by. The single mother had worked hard to keep her son well-fed and with a home, but it wasn't always so easy. There were a few years before she had met Gaius, a wise old doctor at the local hospital. Merlin looked to him like an uncle, and he was the only father figure the boy had ever had. When Merlin had met Arthur at school, Hunith had recognized his name. Of course she would have; Arthur was the son of one of the most well-known politicians in England, Uther Pendragon. Hunith was worried about Uther; he didn't seem to be a good presence like Gaius was. But the boy, Arthur, seemed to do Merlin good, as Merlin seemed to do the same to him.

Merlin had been a quiet boy, never straying far from the library or the classroom. He didn't get bullied, but he didn't have many friends. He'd always been Arthur's friend, but hadn't really gotten close to him until a couple years ago, when he bumped into Arthur in the hallway. The blond had stopped him, asking why he hadn't been seeing much of the other boy. Merlin hadn't really said anything, but Arthur convinced him to eat lunch with him and his other friends. And that's how it all became as it was.

Hunith, done with her musings, zoned back into her son's ramblings. "... And I bet he had a million of them, you know? What do you think we're going to do? We might eat something; I might be there through dinner... is that alright? Wow, I wonder what kinds of food he eats... probably really posh and expensive things. We might watch a movie... or play games. At what time should I be home? I'll try to be home before eleven... I can probably use their phone. Do you know what kind of phone he has? It's really-"

"Merlin," his mother interrupted with a gentle smile, nodding at the clock. "It's four. Shouldn't you be going already?"

Merlin's mouth formed a small 'o' as he slowly turned to stare at the clock. It was indeed four, and he was to be there by four fifteen.

Merlin snapped himself back to attention, running to the door to stuff his feet in his shoes and throw his coat on. "Oh, right, sorry... bye Mum!" he called, going to step out the door.

Only he forgot to open the door, and ended up walking right into it, stumbling back and nearly tripping over a shoe.

Hunith chuckled, pulling her son back from the door. "That thing's a death trap," Merlin stated seriously.

His mother smiled, pulling out a tattered old red scarf and wrapping it tenderly around her son's pale neck. "I think it was trying to stop you from forgetting something. It's chilly outside, sweetheart."

Merlin grinned lopsidedly, waving as he stepped towards the door. "Bye, Mum," he said again, being sure to open the door all the way before stepping through this time. He emerged into the cold air of November, watching his breath swirl around in white clouds for a moment before walking purposefully in the direction of his friend's mansion.

By the time Merlin got to the right block, he was practically skipping along the sidewalk, ignoring the strange glances he got.

He knocked cheerily on the large oak door, waiting patiently as he heard a muffled yell of "I'll get it!"

Arthur opened the door, letting the warm light fall onto his friend's cold nose. His face split into a smile. "Merlin!"

Merlin beamed. "Hi, Arthur!"

They stood there for a few more seconds, grinning, before Arthur stepped aside. "What are you doing? Get inside."

Merlin happily complied, stepping through the threshold and gaping at everything before him. It was the same as the last time he'd been there; there was ornate carpeting covering the whole floor, and all the wooden furniture was polished to an unbelievably mirror-like extent. There were a few golden chandeliers crying beams of light from the ceiling, and the walls were so free of damage, however small, that it was like no one even lived there. There was the smell of unknown yet delicious food coming from an area behind the staircase Merlin knew was the kitchen. Up the stairs, there were four bedrooms; one was Arthur's, another was his sister Morgana's, and the master bedroom was his father's; his mother had died when he was born. The fourth room served as a guest room. Above that was the library. There was also a set of stairs that went down, but Merlin had never been down there.

When Merlin realized that he was practically ogling at everything before him, he closed his mouth and turned to his friend, grinning. "What are we doing?"

Arthur paused. "Well, we could finish making dinner with Morgana in the kitchen... we're making spaghetti with tomato sauce. It's a surprise for my dad."

Merlin stared at him. He'd always loved to help his mother with meals, and being asked by Arthur was like already being accepted into the family. He felt so happy he couldn't even smile.

Arthur frowned, taking his expression for something else. "Um, it's alright if you don't want to; I'm sure Morgana and I... can..."

Merlin blinked. "No, no it's fine! I'd love to help!" He then enveloped his friend in a hug, grinning like an idiot. Arthur rolled his eyes, smirking. Merlin always had been strangely affectionate.

"Alright then. Stop being a girl, and get in the kitchen. We have noodles to prepare."

Merlin beamed and followed him into the pristine white kitchen. Arthur's fourteen-year-old older sister Morgana was pouring stiff uncooked noodles into a pot of boiling water. Merlin tried not to pale at the precarious angle the pot seemed to be at. Thankfully, Morgana noticed it a second later and pushed it back over the flame, earning a relieved sigh from Merlin.

Arthur heard him sigh and frowned. "Merlin," he muttered so his sister wouldn't hear, "Please don't tell me you're crushing on my sister."

Merlin frowned in confusion, and then he blushed a deep red. "No! Of course not! It's just... the pot, it was..."

He didn't get the chance to finish as Morgana heard them whispering and turned around. She smiled warmly at Merlin. "Hello, Merlin," she said, her smooth voice carrying through the kitchen.

Merlin grinned back, trying to control the way his face was heating up. "Hi Morgana."

Arthur smiled knowingly, and pushed a heavy block of mozzarella into his hands, as well as a metal grater. "Here, Merlin. Do the cheese. Try not to kill yourself on the sharp bits."

Merlin smirked, ignoring the way he was being spoken to. He took the huge brick of cheese (honestly, it was bigger than both his fists put together) and staggered under its weight.

"Blimey, it's heavy!"

Arthur whirled around and frowned. 'Did you just say blimey?' he mouthed, while Morgana glided gracefully across the tiled floor, effortlessly plucking the cheese from Merlin's small clumsy hands and depositing it on the counter behind him.

Merlin flushed with embarrassment. "Erm... thank you."

Morgana laughed; a soft tinkling sound that made Merlin blush deeper. "You're welcome." Then she went back to pouring pasta into the water.

Merlin stood there uselessly, holding a grater, until Arthur stepped forward and poked him in the cheek. Merlin blinked and frowned down at his finger.

"Are you okay? All the blood rushed to your face. I think that's dangerous. Do you feel faint? How many fingers?" Arthur demanded, not waiting for an answer and waving his fingers incessantly in front of Merlin's annoyed blue eyes.

Morgana snickered, stirring the noodles. Merlin would have blushed deeper, but he was already at his limit of ruddiness.

Merlin frowned and slapped Arthur's hand away. He turned to the cheese, setting the grater down and getting to work. He found a large knife, and was about to use it to cut the ridiculously large chunk of cheese, when Arthur saw him.

He gasped and took the knife from him. Merlin frowned indignantly, but Arthur ignored him and sliced the cheese neatly in half. "Can't have you using knives, Merlin. If you died in our kitchen it would seem suspicious."

Merlin smirked and gripped the lighter blob of cheese, but then Arthur took that from him too, rubbing it fervently against the grater.

Merlin frowned and went around the counter to use the other side of the grater. He grated the other chunk of cheese a lot more merrily than Arthur's fierily passionate way.

The cheese was entirely grated in a matter of minutes. Morgana hadn't even finished cooking the noodles.

Merlin stared at the huge pile of cheese they had managed to whip up. "Arthur..."

"Hmm?"

"Why do you need all this cheese?"

The corners of Arthur's mouth twitched upwards in a tiny smile. "My father loves cheese."

Merlin looked away. "Ah."

There was a short pause of silence, and then Arthur clapped his hands authoritatively. "Right. Time to make the sauce. Morgana, how's the spaghetti?"

"It's nearly done. Just two more minutes." There was a large white colander in the sink next to her.

"Good. Okay, Merlin, let's get the cans of sauce."

The other boy frowned when his friend started walking out of the kitchen. "Where are you going?"

"To get the sauce, you idiot. Aren't you coming?"

Merlin glanced at Morgana, who was smiling, and scurried off after Arthur. "Why isn't the sauce in the kitchen?"

Arthur stared at him as if he had grown a second head. "We keep the canned food in the basement. Where do you keep it?"

Merlin's gaze drifted to the floor. "We... we don't have a basement. We keep everything in the kitchen."

Arthur paused. "Oh." Then he grinned. "Well, then you can marvel at our lovely storage space."

And then they descended into the dark basement.

Arthur's basement was not what one would expect of a basement. It wasn't a 'storage space', as Arthur had called it. It wasn't a garage either. Arthur's basement was just as elegant as the rest of the house; or maybe less so. There was a big, squishy leather couch in a corner, in front of yet another enormous television screen, with four black gaming consoles plugged in. There was a tower of what could only be games next to the couch, looking like it was about to topple over. The rest of the large room had a pool table, a game of Foosball, and a small bar. There were a couple hallways leading out from two of the walls, probably to more rooms or something. Arthur's house really was huge.

Merlin stared with wide eyes around, trying to take in everything at once. Arthur laughed at his friend.

"So, do you like my storage space?"

Merlin stepped into the middle of the room and spun around. "This is a storage space?"

Arthur smirked and rolled his eyes, grabbing the back of the other boy's shirt and tugging him towards one of the corridors. "Come on, Merlin. We still have to get the sauce."

Merlin danced out of Arthur's grip, skipping in front of him. "Which door?"

"Green one."

Merlin looked around for a green door. He couldn't see one. "There isn't one."

Arthur rolled his eyes and pointed at a very very pale green door on Merlin's left.

The dark-haired boy frowned. "That's not green."

"Yes it is. You're not colour blind, are you?" Arthur asked, not expecting a response and turning the knob. The door swung open silently, the hinges perfectly oiled.

Merlin scowled. "No," he grumbled, following his friend into the room. Arthur hit a light switch, and the small room lit up as if by magic. There was a shelf full of cans of every different colour on each wall, and Merlin would have gotten lost just looking for the sauce, but Arthur seemed to know exactly where it was as he stepped towards the left shelf with determination. He plucked a red and white can off the top of the shelf, calmly striding back to Merlin.

Merlin was frowning at one of the cans. It was sky blue, with a bunch of green hedgehog-like fruits on the cover. "Jackfruit in syrup?" he asked.

Arthur gazed over his shoulder. "Don't ask me what that is. Let's go."

Merlin seemed to accept this answer, shrugging and following his friend out the door.

Morgana took care of the sauce, pouring it into another saucepan and shooing the boys away.

Merlin and Arthur went off to the stairs, and Merlin stopped at every other step to gape at something.

"What's that?" he asked in amazement.

Arthur frowned at the small picture of a chubby little blond boy, smiling widely as he hugged someone's legs. Out of all the marvellous artwork decorating the walls, he just had to choose the one small poor-quality picture of the past.

Arthur trudged up the rest of the stairs before answering. "That... that's me."

Merlin beamed up at him. "You were a fat baby."

"I am not fat!"

Merlin giggled, following his friend up the stairs. The stairs ended in the center of a long hallway, with six doors adorning the walls. The white door was the bathroom, the red and gold door at the end was Uther's room (Merlin had never been inside), and the two other red doors were Arthur's and Morgana's bedrooms; but Merlin wasn't seeing any of that. He was gazing dreamily at the sixth and final door; it was a simple pale blue thing, but Merlin knew what hid behind it.

Arthur noticed his friend staring. "Why do you like it there so much?"

"Why don't you like it? It's amazing!" Merlin exclaimed, gesticulating wildly.

Arthur sighed, but smiled all the same, holding his arms out like a doorman. "Go on, then."

Merlin practically squealed, staring at him with wide, amazed blue eyes. "Really?"

The blond snickered. "Sure." It was hard to say no to that.

Merlin grinned, trotting over to the blue door. He paused in front of it. He could still see his fingerprints from the last time he had been there on the shiny doorknob. He was pretty much the only one who still went inside; Uther had an office in his room with plenty of books, Arthur didn't like to read much, and Morgana, like Uther, had her own books. The lovely place was practically abandoned; only Merlin came over to bring some life back into it.

He breathed in the fresh scent of paper as he pushed through the door.

The simple blue door led to a spiralling staircase, which in turn led to the unknown treasure of the house; the library.

Merlin gasped as he got to the top of the stairs, eyes wide as he tried to take in everything at once. His face split into a grin and he headed to the shelves near the back, where a small table was hidden. When Merlin had first arrived, he'd had much of the same reaction, and had taken the table for his own. It was in between three shelves, concealed from view. There were twelve rows of bookshelves, with a long hallway in the middle and more bookshelves lining the walls. The walls couldn't even be seen, there were so many books. Merlin's table was situated in the middle of the youth section of the library. There were larger tables along the middle, but Merlin didn't like them; they were too open.

Arthur smirked at his friend. He'd never really liked the library himself, but Merlin absolutely loved it. He remembered often finding Merlin stuck in a book, suddenly smiling, frowning, or bursting into tears as the story he read progressed. When the young blond caught up with his friend, he had already stuffed his face into a thick black book, lying across the table.

"What are you reading?" Arthur asked disinterestedly. He didn't even hear the answer; he really, really, really didn't care.

Arthur sighed dramatically and went to the shelf behind them, where the comic books were kept. He hummed to himself as he picked out a bright green one with skinny cartoon people on it. He sat down next to Merlin and waited for time to pass by.

Morgana went looking for them so they could help her set the table. The first place she looked was Arthur's bedroom, but they weren't there.

And then she saw the open blue door, and started towards it. Of course they'd be in the library; even when Arthur and Merlin were fighting, the latter would come, if only to see the books.

She quietly tiptoed up the steps. She'd never been too fond of the library; when she was younger, she had taken all the books she liked and stored them in her room. There really wasn't much for her in there anymore.

Morgana looked around each shelf, expecting to find a boy sitting on a pile of books at each turn. When she got to the end, she smirked at the sight.

Merlin was completely still, lying sprawled on the table with his nose in a huge black book. Arthur was sitting in an overturned chair, feet in the air and back on the floor. He seemed unsurprisingly bored as he fiddled with the pages of his comic book. He looked up at his sister's appearance.

"Hey Morgana," he muttered, tossing his book behind him and rolling to his feet. He stood up and pulled Merlin by his feet off the table.

Morgana chuckled in bemusement. "Could you boys help me set the table?"

Merlin said nothing, still immersed in his book as he had managed to keep a hold of it when Arthur dragged him. Arthur smirked and tugged the book out of his grip. "Sure, Morgana."

The small black-haired boy pouted, and then seemed to notice the girl in the room for the first time. He turned slightly pink. "Um... what are we doing?"

Morgana laughed. "We're going to set the table. Come on."

She set off down the stairs, followed closely by her brother. Merlin spared a final glance at his book, running his imaginary hands over it. "Goodbye, my friend," he whispered.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled.

"Coming!" he yelped back, skipping down the stairs.

When they were all downstairs, they were greeted by the lovely smell of fresh tomato sauce and garden spices. Arthur immediately set to work, grabbing four plates and a fork, and pouring the steaming noodles from the colander. He grabbed the pot of sauce and poured that on too. Morgana neatly spread a green tablecloth onto the big polished dining table, and Merlin tried hard not to drop anything as he set down the forks and knives. Morgana brought the steaming plates over, setting them down gently at each chair. Arthur plopped a large bowl of grated cheese in the middle with much less grace.

The three youths stepped back to admire their handiwork. Uther was supposed to arrive any minute now, so the food would still be warm.

"When's your dad coming home?" Merlin asked after a while. Steam had stopped curling off the food, it wasn't very warm anymore.

Arthur sighed dejectedly. "Six."

Merlin checked his watch. It was 7:08. "Should we... start eating?" he suggested, trying to hide the fact that his stomach was practically eating itself.

Arthur smiled, but it was a pained smile, and Merlin could see that. "Sure. Take a seat."

Everyone took their respected seats, trying not to look at the throne-like empty chair at the head of the table. Arthur immediately grabbed the cheese, pouring it all over his plate. Merlin took a saner amount. Morgana took a miniscule amount, proceeding to mix it into the sauce. They were all quiet; the occasional putting down of a fork the only sound.

"So..." Arthur said, drawing out the syllable as he tried to think of something to say.

"What are you doing after this?" Morgana finished, saving him for an awkward pause.

Arthur shrugged, looking at his friend. "You want to watch a movie?"

"What do you have?" Merlin asked, also shrugging.

Arthur frowned. "Well, we sort of have... everything. What do you want to watch?"

Merlin looked worried at having to make a choice. "Oh. Um... I don't know... What do you want to watch?"

"Whatever you want to."

"Well... me too."

"That's a given, Merlin."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Morgana sighed exasperatedly, "Just watch The Lord of the Rings or something."

The two boys looked at each other, shrugging. "Okay," they said simultaneously.

Morgana smirked, rolling her eyes, and went back to her food.

Arthur was just finishing up his plate when the front door unlocked, and his father walked in. He shrugged off his coat and set down his briefcase, walking up to the table.

"Ah, I see you've started before me."

"You're late, Dad," Arthur stated, not looking up.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," the shark-faced man said fondly, pressing a kiss to his son's head. "There was a meeting, and it ran late."

"Hm."

"We made you dinner," Morgana said quickly.

Uther looked up. "Ah, yes, thank you." He then seemed to notice Merlin sitting quietly next to his son. Merlin grinned nervously.

"Hello," he said politely.

"Hello, um... Martin?"

"Merlin," the boy corrected gently, still smiling. Uther smiled back. None of Arthur's other friends were this... innocent.

Uther sat down to eat, smiling lightly at the carefully arranged food before him. He grabbed the bowl of cheese. He looked up when no one made a move to get up.

"You don't have to stay here. Go on now."

Morgana stood up at the same time as Arthur, heading for the stairs. Arthur glanced down at Merlin, who was still seated, and motioned impatiently for him to get up. Merlin smiled sheepishly at the intimidating man beside him and stood up, blushing slightly.

Arthur said nothing, disappointed that his father would come home so late. Didn't his children matter more to him than a stupid meeting?

Merlin nervously followed his silently fuming friend down the stairs to the basement. He looked around once more, taking in the huge screen they would be staring at for the next few hours.

"I'll get the movies," Arthur said, leaving no room for arguments as he walked determinedly to one of the corridors. Merlin stared after him, walking over to the couch. He plopped down on the soft seat; it was surprisingly comfortable. He shifted about for a few seconds before bringing his knees to his chest. He grabbed the first game on the tower next to him, examining the title. Something about zombies. He tossed it back disinterestedly.

Arthur soon came back with all three movies in tow. He popped the first one in, waiting patiently as the television bleeped and whirred. When the opening credits came up, he leaped onto the couch next to Merlin.

When the film came to a silent part, Merlin spoke up. "How long is this?"

Arthur checked the case. "228 minutes."

"Are we going to watch the other two?"

"We'll see. The Two Towers is... 235 minutes, and... The Return of the King is 201 minutes."

"They get shorter?"

"Apparently. Now shush."

The next hour was spent in silence, with only a few comments interjected here and there. Arthur suddenly stood up, pausing the movie.

"Where are you going?" Merlin asked, frowning. His voice was slightly croaky from lack of use.

"I forgot about dessert," was all Arthur offered as an answer, heading for the stairs.

Merlin frowned deeper. "Dessert? Isn't it a little late for that?"

"Oh please, Merlin. It's never too late for dessert." His voice got increasingly soft as he trudged up the stairs. And then he was gone.

Merlin looked back at the screen, where the actors were looking around worriedly. They seemed to have been doing that the whole time.

The young boy glanced up when his friend returned, a large metal bowl in his arms. "I brought dessert."

Merlin frowned. "What is that?"

"Dessert."

Merlin huffed and waited for Arthur to sit down before leaning over and gazing into the bowl. It was filled halfway with chocolate-covered raisins. Merlin gawked at the amount of sweets Arthur had conjured.

Arthur sighed in contentment and plopped the bowl in Merlin's lap. "Dessert."

Merlin and Arthur had a great time eating up all of the chocolate. Arthur was throwing them into the air, trying to catch them in his mouth. He was quite good. When Merlin tried, though, he nearly blinded himself when it fell too close to his eyes. They made it halfway into the second movie when they finally finished all the chocolate, leaning heavily into each other's shoulders with arms draped across their abdomens, too lazy to move. The movies were good, and Merlin really liked them, but his eyes were starting to go numb from how long they'd been open, staring at the bright screen. Arthur was in much the same predicament, blinking often. They didn't say anything for the rest of the movie. They had been sitting there for the better part of six hours, and the screen was starting to blur.

They increased their blinking, but to no avail.

Merlin was the first to lose the battle, letting his head fall onto Arthur's shoulder as his eyes drooped shut.

Arthur noticed Merlin fall against him, and forced himself to stay awake. Of course Merlin would fall asleep; he was just little Merlin, the bookworm. Arthur would not fall asleep. Arthur was Arthur, son of a politician, and head of all the sports teams. He was wide awake, he was. His ear definitely wasn't pressed against his friend's black hair, and his eyes were totally open. Arthur was strong; he could watch the rest of both movies, easy. He was not tired in the slightest.

Around a minute later, both boys were dead to the world.

It was well past midnight, and Hunith was getting slightly worried. She'd been expecting a call for the past few hours, but nothing happened. She ended up dialling the number she had been wise enough to memorize, waiting impatiently for it to pick up.

When it eventually did, she was greeted by the authoritative voice of a man. "Uther Pendragon."

"Ah, hello..." She paused slightly. She had not expected Arthur's father (his famous politician father) to pick up. "This is Hunith; I'm Merlin's mother. Could I speak to him?"

"Why, yes of course." Hunith was relieved that Uther thought nothing of the late hour. It wasn't even late anymore; it was early. It was nearly two in the morning.

Soon enough, she could hear footsteps, and the phone was picked up again. She was about to chide her son, when Uther once again spoke.

"Miss Hunith? I think you should come over so we can discuss this personally."

Hunith frowned. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I'm just trying to determine the length your son's stay, and I think it would be best if we discussed this where we can see each other."

The worry lessened, but she was still confused. "All right, I'll just pop over."

"I assume you know the address?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you. Goodbye," she said.

"Goodbye." Click.

Hunith hung up the phone, grabbing her coat and stuffing her feet in her boots, much like her son had done. Only she opened the door before stepping through. She jogged to the car, starting the ignition before she was even seated.

Hunith was apprehensive as she entered the massive house no more than three minutes later. She truly knew nothing about the state of her son; Uther hadn't implied anything, and he was hard to read.

"They're in the basement, if you please," the man said, ushering her to the stairs like a doorman. Hunith descended.

She stopped short at the sight before her, before breaking into a grin.

"Well, it seems I was worried for nothing," she stated, relieved, as she gazed fondly at her peacefully sleeping son. He was nestled into Arthur's shoulder, who was also asleep.

Uther let out a chuckle. "I apologize for causing you anxiety."

They both smiled, all tension eased. "Is it alright if he stays here the night?" Hunith asked nervously, not wanting to disturb the boys.

The tall man laughed. "It's funny; I was about to ask the same thing."

The single mother could only smile at the politician, not knowing what to make of this shark-faced man who seemed to have a soft spot for his children. She looked back at her own son, and tiptoed up to him, taking a blanket off the couch and draping it across both boys' shoulders. Uther turned off the lights and the television, shrouding the room in darkness. They quietly exited the basement.

"Well then, I'll have to come back tomorrow," Hunith said.

"I could always drive him back..."

"No, no, that's quite alright, Mister Pendragon," Hunith said hastily. There was no good luck in letting the rich do you favours.

Uther shrugged. "Whatever works for you."

She smiled once more before stepping through the door, waving. She slowly eased herself into her car, taking her time in pulling away from the house now that she was no longer distraught.

She allowed herself a pleased smile as she parked her car beside her own home.

Her son had a good friend.

You.
Just got fluffbombed.
I KNOW, IT HURTS, RIGHT?

I'M SO SORRY. The plotbunnies died at the end. *sobs* I couldn't save them!

WELL this was a mutating idea in my brain, so I had to stop it before it freakin' killed me. It got longer than I expected... lol all I planned to write about was them watching a movie and falling asleep XD what the heck happened?

WHOO. Sorry if anyone was OOC (ignore Uther; he's had a nice life in this.)

Please review! I LOVE YOU ALL~