This was written for Camelot_drabble under my penname afleur_de_lis. This week's prompt was broken. The story that I intended to share is going to be arriving to this site soon.


Arthur was in a terrible mood. He didn't know the true reason for his ill humour, all he knew was that it had to do with Merlin. Or at least, that is what he wanted to think.

He attributed his anger towards Merlin in three ways: One, Morgana had smiled at his manservant more than once and did not pay him any attention. Two, Merlin had won a game of dice in Morgana's presence, thus embarrassing him. Lastly, he was late for his duties.

Arthur paced around his room in anger and impatience. He supposed that all three reasons were plausible, though Merlin being late was slowly rising to the top and taking the place of what took place the night before. He glared at the door each time he passed it in the hope that Merlin had finally arrived, and at last his patience (or lack of it) paid off when the door opened and his manservant walked in.

"About time!" Arthur strode around the little table that still contained the breakfast dishes and crossed his arms. "Where were you? Why are you late?"

"I was delayed," said Merlin with a wide smile on his face. "The guards stopped me down the hallway and wished me to tell them what happened last night."

Arthur's eyes narrowed and he picked up a plate so that he had something to do with his hands. Especially since he had felt the sudden urge to strangle Merlin.

"They wanted to hear about how you lost a game of dice to a servant," continued Merlin, he didn't notice the look on the prince's face, nor how his fingers tightened their hold on the plate. "I told them that while anybody could play dice, that it took a special technique to actually win."

"You're half an hour late, Merlin." Arthur stared at his servant for a few moments longer. "Surely, you didn't tell the entire army this story. So what were you doing?"

"Morgana congratulated me on winning a game of dice," said Merlin with an odd little smile on his face. "Said that it wasn't hard to win a game against you."

Arthur snarled and threw the plate. It sailed over Merlin's head and headed towards the wardrobe.

"Flying dishes land, you know," said Merlin as the two of them watched the plate crash into the wall and shatter into pieces. "What are you going to say to the head chef when she realises that not all of her dishes are there?"

"That's easy," said Arthur irrtably. "I'll blame you of course."