Ship: MorganaxMerlinxArthurxGwen

Rating: PG-13

Notes: Mixed poly, drink, innuendo

Disclaimer: I own nothing in connection with BBC's Merlin, nor do I make any money writing this fanfiction.

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Anything You Can Do

It started as those things often tended to, with Arthur and Morgana making bets with each other around claims which grow wilder with each round. Sometimes Merlin chipped in, mostly to Arthur's annoyance, while Gwen tried to remain out of their lines of vision so she wouldn't be spotted and pulled in. Boasts were made, insults were exchanged and they were on the subject of which one of them could drink the other under the table when Arthur suddenly turned and left. Morgana smiled in that rather victorious way and went back to experimenting with different ways of pulling back her hair while Gwen assisted, giving compliments in the right places. Merlin nodded along while wavering near the door of Morgana's chambers, unsure as to how much of a bad mood Arthur might be in and whether or not he had been supposed to follow.

His dilemma was solved by Arthur suddenly striding back through the door, nearly hitting Merlin's nose as it swung open. He had as many skins of ale as he could carry in his arms. None of them questioned whether or not he was allowed to take it or if anybody even knew.

Things spiralled very much how they were expected to. Both Arthur and Morgana became so drunk and so engrossed in wanting to outdo each other they forgot to properly keep track of who was winning. They just both assumed they were and kept insisting as such. Arthur was the worst, slumped back in his chair with one arm slung over the back of it, badly trying to disguise how much he was trying to not flop over. His hair was a mess, pushed in every direction with his own fingers, and there was a wide smirk on his face which wouldn't leave. Morgana at least managed to still look dignified, even while leaning forward to rest her weight on her elbows, with her hair slightly ruffled and the sort of blush which only too much drink could bring spread over her face.

Merlin got easily dragged into the competition and knocked out of it even faster because after half a skin he was happily intoxicated. After that, he spent some of the time on Arthur's lap, nuzzling at his neck while laughing over everything and nothing. It wasn't long before Arthur got frustrated him and shoved Merlin to the floor, claiming he was putting him off his concentration. Morgana took pity on him and pushed her chair back so Merlin may snuggle up with her instead. A bit of affection wouldn't put her off, she said, purposefully looking towards and smiling at Arthur as she did. Arthur just rolled his eyes and pushed more drink towards her so she may back up those claims.

She did. Because there was nothing Arthur could do which Morgana couldn't beat, she said. In fact, if she could find the right equipment and if Arthur weren't such a bloody man about things like that, she could show him just how much she could best him in many things. Merlin helped Morgana and didn't help Arthur at all by making his own suggestions, all of which he found funny.

Merlin swiftly retreated to the safety which was Gwen, where she was sat on Morgana's bed, when Arthur tried reaching over the table to strangle him. It seemed he wasn't fond of the suggestion that he should wear one of Morgana's dresses while being ravaged by her with any phallic object they could think of. The blue one would go so well with his eyes.

Gwen didn't mind because Merlin fell asleep with his head resting on her shoulder as soon as he flopped down beside her. She wasn't even that concerned about the thin trail of saliva which slipped down from the corner of his mouth because she was able to pull off his necktie and drape it over her shoulder. Arthur and Morgana had gone back to becoming engrossed in their drinking competition. Again, Gwen didn't mind. She would rather sit on the sidelines and watch rather than get drawn in herself because, really, she had never been that much of a drinker. And maybe, quite possibly, she might have found the suggestions of all the things Morgana could do to Arthur a very tiny bit amusing. Perhaps even a little attractive.

In the silence which came when Arthur and Morgana finally passed out, Gwen drank down the last of the single skin of ale she had been strategically nursing all night. There was a light buzz in her head but nothing she would be regretting the next morning. That, however, could not be said for Merlin, Arthur or Morgana and Gwen found herself wincing at the thought of the hangovers she would probably find herself nursing come morning.

She also knew she would be asked to judge who had won the drinking contest once they were all awake again and able to lift their heads without the feeling that their skulls were about to burst. It would be a hard choice to make because while Morgana was her mistress, Arthur was the crowned prince of Camelot. Not exactly an easy decision to make when it came to taking sides. As Gwen started shifting Merlin so he may sleep in a more comfortable position, she began to think about how she could politely suggest that Morgana had been the victor. After all, Arthur was the one who had fallen from his chair not long after dropping off to sleep and was now underneath the table.

END