Trouble
Merlin...Merlin... MERLIN.
A Young man twisted and turned as sweat dripped off him onto the horrid and uncomfortable bed. Suddenly he woke with a gasp and sat up straight; he had heard that voice before, it was a voice he heard when ever trouble was following him. Well... and the royal Prat.
The next morning Merlin was weary. Weary and tired. He couldn't be bothered to stop what ever god forsaken evil that had decided to plague him and Camelot. He was just too tired to care. Tired of being a stupid idiot. Tired of be thankless. Tired of having to get up 5 in the morning to do chores and wake the prat up and fall asleep maybe past midnight doing chores. Again. He was just tired.
What do you think?It all was a bit to rushed for my liking. I don't know whether I should continue or not... Give me your thoughts and opinions. x (if I carry on the next chapter will be longer)