"For heavens sake, how many taverns are there?"

"I thought you were going to ask Gwaine," Merlin announced, sounding sick of being dragged around Camelot every night looking for this elusive tavern. He hated Arthur, he hated his wet boots, he hated the rain dripping from his hair onto his face.

"I can find wherever it is in Camelot you go," Arthur warned Merlin.

Merlin snorted. "How do you know I stop anywhere in Camelot?"

Arthur stopped walking and turned to glare at him, Merlin stopped and sighed heavily.

Perhaps it would be easier to tell the truth and get himself executed.