"Hey! I was gonna eat that."

Merlin yanked the plate out from Arthur's side of the table, barely avoiding taking the tablecloth with him, and tried to make off with it. He hadn't noticed when he'd brought it up to the room from the kitchens, covered as it was to keep it warm, but the second the food had been set out and Arthur had picked up his knife and fork he had felt a wave of magic so strong he had swayed a bit, before grabbing hold of the plate and taking it back.

"Food's bad," Merlin said, already making his way out of the room and covering the plate again with a clang. Whatever spell was on the food couldn't be good.

Arthur could never leave it at that, though. Merlin couldn't see him, but he knew that Arthur had the look on his face. The look that said, I will not let this idiot run away with my food, or alternatively just, Merlin!

"And how would you know?" Arthur said, stomping after him, all indignant and self-righteous.

"All I had to do was smell it, sire. Honestly, didn't you? It reeks."

"I didn't have chance before you whipped it away from me, Merlin."

"Well then, it's a good thing I did! A prince of Camelot needs only the very best."

Merlin could see Arthur's brain working, trying to decide if he was being serious or sarcastic. Meanwhile, Merlin didn't slow his pace to the kitchens, rounding corners at breakneck speed, such that Arthur, after his momentary pause, had to jog to keep up.

"You know we have food tasters for this kind of thing."

"They're testing for poison, not burnt chicken, Arthur."

Merlin finally managed to slide into the kitchens and dump the plate onto a workbench as Arthur rounded on him.

"It was not burnt! I saw it with my own two eyes."

"Would you just accept that there's a problem with the food and let me get you a different meal?"

"Only when you admit that it wasn't burnt! There was nothing wrong with it!"

"What seems to be the problem here?"

They both spun to see Gaius, no doubt picking up herbs to be used in his treatments from the stores.

Arthur clearly seemed to see the potential embarrassment in arguing over a burnt chicken in the split second in which he was forced to explain, but boldly ventured on, unwilling to give up the petty spat. "Merlin has just confiscated my food when there is nothing wrong with it." He indicated to the covered plate.

Gaius raised an eyebrow, his expression withering, and lifted the cover.

Again, there was that overwhelming magical footprint, so strong that Merlin thought he might faint, but to his surprise, Gaius seemed unmoved and Arthur was just smirking at him in satisfaction to see a completely unburnt chicken. Clotpole.

"It seems to be fine to me," Gaius said. "But since you're getting a new dinner – " Before Merlin could so much as stop him, Gaius had picked up a drumstick and had bitten into it.

Arthur turned to him smugly. "See, Merlin? There was nothing – "

A loud crack sounded and Merlin felt his ears pop.

There, on the floor where Gaius had been, sat a frog, green and spotted and croaking.

"What did I say about the food being bad?"