Disclaimer: If only, if only, the woodpecker cries. Not that I wrote that, either.
The heavy doors to the council chamber swung closed behind Arthur as he left the meeting. Behind him, a scribe was furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment, trying to record each word his father said.
"Oh, and Arthur," Came King Uther's deep and commanding voice. His son turned.
"Yes, Father?"
"We're riding out, tonight, for a twilight hunt in honor of King Adamarr and his son. Do make yourself ready." Arthur nodded tersely, and turned about, again, heading to the upper floors. He could hear his father berating the young boy who had still been taking notes. "Don't write that down, I already..."
Arthur realized halfway to his chambers that Merlin was likely still helping Prince Devon settle in. Redirecting his steps, he took the long way round to the far rooms, taking the time to admire the way the sun was paining the sky in its slow descent. Already the brilliant blue day was turning shades of lilac- the hunt was likely to be warm, tonight.
He came abruptly to Devon's chambers, and wasted no time rapping his knuckle against the door. There was a pause before the thing opened, and Arthur was greeted by the short and enthusiastic Prince instead of his manservant. "Well hello, Arthur!" he shouted, making the taller man blink with the unexpected volume.
"Hello," he replied, "Have you seen Merlin?"
Hardly had he finished the question did Devon speak up with a hasty "Why?"
"The King and I are to accompany you and your father on a hunt, this evening, if it pleases you," he started, unaccustomed to being so formal, "I require Merlin's services in preparation, as soon as he's done here... is he here?"
"Right here, Sire," Arthur's gaze flicked above Devon's head of brown curls, to see his servant in a state of disarray.
"Right. Well, I'll be joining you in the courtyard, soon, Devon," Arthur pushed the door wider to allow Merlin's exit, and Devon's fingers stubbornly relented.
"Who will prepare my horse?" The young man complained.
"Already being taken care of, I assure you." He glanced at Merlin, implying him to follow, and with that they set off. As soon as they rounded the corner and the door closed, Arthur finally spoke up, "Bit of a handful?"
"...yes."
Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him, and jabbed him with his elbow. "What, that bad?" When he received no answer, he jabbed him, again. "Merlin."
"Ow!" He rubbed his arm, "What do you want me to say?"
"You've always got some grand opinion on Camelot's guests. Don't tell me Devon's the most normal person you've ever met!"
"Nooo, I certainly wouldn't say that." The sarcasm that laced Merlin's words was bitter and scathing, this time, not like his usual prattle at all. It was clear that something was amiss.
"Well?" Again, he received no response, and finally Arthur stopped them mid-stride, gripping a hand around Merlin's arm. He studied his face, which he now realized was slightly red. Merlin's scarf was at an unusual angle, and his hair was mussed. "Did he make you unpack all his things?" He asked, incredulously.
Merlin's face twitched, but he did not answer the question. Instead he muttered, "You said I was to do anything?"
"Of course," Arthur said at once.
"Well that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm doing as you say, I'm doing as he says, and there's no problem."
His words stung a bit, but Arthur tried to shrug them off. He couldn't very well ask if there was a problem, especially after so clear and answer. Merlin doing as he says? 'Bout time.
"So hunting?" The question snapped him back into reality.
"Yes. Twilight hunt. Father's idea."
"You're going hunting in the surrounding woods... after dark?" Merlin seemed to be himself, again, brow arching in a manner Arthur was sure he was picking up from Gaius.
"Yes, mother, after dark. Is there a problem?"
"It's only that all manner of things happen to you after dark, and I hardly think that hunting in the forest is going to slim those chances down, any."
"Well, Merlin," he emphasized in his favourite way, "So sorry you're scared of the dark, but that's not really my concern, is it?" He glared at him and added, "Now, off to the stables, and then back up to my chambers to outfit my clothes. Understood?"
"Of course, Sire," Merlin refrained form rolling his eyes.
He split off at the corridors, but Arthur called to him, again. "Don't let Devon bother you. Just do exactly as he says and I'm sure even you won't land your head on the chopping block." Arthur strode off toward his room, feeling awkward after the sentimental advice. Honestly, Merlin didn't use his brain, sometimes.
Author's Note: Oh, Arthur...
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