Wow, I'm on a role! Two updates in one day? That hasn't happened in forever :) My muse is finally working again, I guess. Many thanks to djpes for requesting this one- I hope I did your idea justice. Also, Rachel and CreativityCaged830, I loved your ideas and will absolutely try to use them- thank you for the suggestions! :) Keep an eye out for them, 'kay?
Added note for CreativityCaged830- For one, please tell me if you write a 100 Drabble series as well! I know I'll follow it! :D Also, thanks for letting me know that notice was missing from my profile- I must have deleted it at some point by accident. Many thanks!
Alright, back to business. IDOM, obviously.
Quick Info: Arthur is King; Merlin's magic is still a secret. Gwen is Queen, Morgana is evil, etc.
Drabble 12- Just Desserts
"I'll have to punish you for being late, of course. My armor needs polishing- that should do it. And you're getting off easy, so don't you think otherwise Merlin," the king added, with a pointed look in the manservant's direction.
Said manservant had heard none of it. He was, in a word, exhausted. It had been a long night- or, more accurately, a long few nights. Recently there had been a team of renegade druids who planted several magical explosives of a sort around Camelot; when the time on the spell ran out, they erupted in flame, sure to burn at least the lower towns and farm fields to the ground. Needless to say, it had been several long, stressful nights as Merlin not only deactivated and removed the amulets, but also captured the troublemakers.
On top of this, Arthur was holding a feast to celebrate a recent peace treaty. With the servants in charge of setting up the extravagant party, and Gaius taking up his remaining free time to gather herbs, Merlin felt like he'd been pulled in a million different directions.
"…and of course we'll be hunting for the feast later today- Merlin? Merlin!" The king's voice broke into Merlin's vacant thoughts angrily. "Have you heard a word I've said?"
"Sorry, Arthur," Merlin mumbled, trying to stifle a yawn. "I'm just tired, that's all."
"Maybe if you didn't slack off so much, you wouldn't have to stay up so late to get everything done," Arthur snapped, clearly still indignant at having been ignored. Merlin didn't even have the energy to retort.
Arthur noticed this; it was this odd obedience that made him hesitate. Despite all of his gripping and complaining, Merlin really was a hard worker (provided you could catch his attention long enough to order him about). Forgetful maybe, but not intentionally neglectful of his duties. And he had looked pretty tired recently- the dark, purple circles under his eyes were testimony of that.
"What have you been up to?" Arthur asked carefully, scrutinizing his servant more carefully. Oddly enough, the question seemed to jerk Merlin from his dazed stupor.
"Nothing," he grinned, the smile not quite meeting his heavy eyes. "You know me, lazy to a fault!" On that cheerful note, he gathered up the king's breakfast dishes and left the room. He didn't feel Arthur's worried eyes following him as he left.
Despite his worry, Arthur found it easy enough to push his concerns to the back of his mind. After all, the banquet was tonight. When it was over, he could find an excuse to dismiss his friend early and let him get a solid night's sleep. Confident in his plan, Arthur didn't think twice about it again.
That was, he didn't think twice about it until the banquet that night, when it became all too obvious that the problem was worse than he thought.
"Merlin, just stand in the back and try to stay out of trouble," Arthur hissed, while shooting an apologetic smile to the noble to his left. While it was the first time he'd spilt wine on a person, it was the third time he'd spilled the drink that night, and Arthur would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit irritated. Besides, he didn't need an upset noble trying to "discipline" his servant.
"Yessir," the servant mumbled, stumbling back to his spot. He looked almost ashamed, which somehow made Arthur feel guilty.
Idiot should've gone to bed earlier, not my fault, he thought to himself sternly. Turning, he purposefully avoided looking at Merlin and focused his energy into seeming as unconcerned and relaxed as possible. Only Gwen seemed to notice anything, although she didn't press the matter.
Merlin, on his part, was upset with himself as well. Yes, he was tired. But this banquet was important to Arthur and it wasn't like it was the first time he'd gone a few nights without much sleep. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why he felt so weak. It no longer felt like just exhaustion- he felt shaky, as if he literally had no energy at all.
Not to mention being surrounded by so much food and noise was making him feel like he might be sick and giving him a pounding headache. Come to think of it, he'd had a headache on and off for a couple days now, but this was easily the worst it'd ever been. Nearby, a servant passed carrying a pork roast and the warlock's stomach clenched dangerously.
Maybe I'm getting sick, he mused. But no, he knew that wasn't it. He just didn't catch colds or the flu, a run of luck he'd always chalked down to his magic. He could get sick from infection or serious diseases certainly, but he'd never been one to just catch something trivial randomly.
Something I ate? He wondered idly as he leaned back against a pillar, trying to ignore the pounding in his temples. (Oh wonderful, now they were dancing- more noise, joy oh joy!) What had he eaten recently? He had an apple last night before bed, and some porridge for breakfast yesterday as well. And the day before? Had he eaten at all? Oh, yes, that was right. He'd snuck a sausage link from Arthur's platter. He'd had to muck the stables for it, but it'd been worth it. He'd been hungry and just didn't have time to grab a real meal.
He supposed he could sneak some scraps now, but he wasn't hungry anymore. Just the thought of eating made his stomach roll, though some part of him knew he'd really gone too long without food this time.
The pillar felt reassuringly solid behind him, the cold stone chilling his back through his thin tunic. He slumped further against it, the pitcher he held tipping dangerously in his hand. Surely Arthur wouldn't mind if he took a little nap? He'd told him to stay out of trouble. How much trouble could he possibly get into if he was asleep? The floor looked oddly comfortable right now… just ten minutes…
In all the noise and confusion of dancing, no one noticed the wiry manservant slide down a pillar and then crumple all at once, collapsing onto the gray stone. The noise of the silver pitcher clattering to the floor was lost in the dining hall as wine pooled around the unconscious man.
The nobles danced on.
It was nearing midnight when Arthur felt his resolve break. The feast was showing no signs of dissipating and his guilty conscience couldn't take it anymore.
Excusing himself from… whoever he'd been talking to (Lord Aaron? Andrew?) he scanned the crowd of dancing bodies for the familiar gangly servant. While he saw several maids offering refreshments, he couldn't seem to spot Merlin.
Did he leave already? Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the king dismissed it. He doubted Merlin would directly disobey him publicly.
Wandering to the edge of the crowd, Arthur slowly started circulating the room, scanning carefully and waving away anyone who tried to talk to him.
Just as he was about to give up and assume he had indeed gone back to his quarters, he stepped into a puddle of wine.
What the…? Imminently he was worried. If anyone had shown a penchant for spilling wine this evening, it had been the ever-clumsy Merlin. Following the red stained stone, Arthur saw it puddled behind one of the pillars in the back. Sticking out from behind the column was one pale, thin hand.
Picking up the pace, the king hurried and found Merlin's limp form stained with wine and slumped against the wall. Cursing under his breath and forcing down his panic, the king scooped up his servant and hurried from the room, ignoring any questions or comments he attracted. Indeed, he barely heard them; he had more pressing matters to deal with.
When Merlin came to, he was lying on Gaius' patient cot near the fire.
"You're awake," stated a familiar voice. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Merlin looked up at the disapproving face of his guardian.
"Hi Gaius," he mumbled sheepishly.
"Eat," he ordered, thrusting a small plate into Merlin's hands.
"I'm not really hungry-"
"Eat." Merlin knew better than to argue when Gaius used that tone. Obediently he took a bite.
"Don't ever work yourself to the ground like that ever again, Merlin," the older man said suddenly, spinning on his ward. "Got it?"
"You know I'm busy, it's just not a priority most of the time," the warlock tried to defend himself to no avail.
"I don't care. Make it a priority," the physician ordered, and for the first time Merlin realized that he'd really scared him. "Promise me!"
"I promise," Merlin mumbled apologetically. Pacified, Gaius collected his ward's dishes and stuck them in the sink.
"Good," he said sharply. "It's a ridiculous thing to endanger your health over." On that note, he grabbed his cloak and left. Merlin knew better than to ask where he was going.
"He's right," came a new voice. Merlin, having thought he was alone, jumped in surprise. Turning, he saw Arthur leaning against the wall by his door, looking exhausted. At some point, he'd changed from his nice clothes into a more casual outfit, but other than that he looked like he'd been there for hours. Maybe he had.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Merlin asked dumbly, his mind still trying to fill in the blanks the last few hours had left.
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you," Arthur replied drily. "When did you last sleep, Merlin?"
"Last night?"
"When's the last time you got at least eight hours of sleep?" The king amended. Merlin fell silent, and Arthur nodded to himself. "That's what I thought," he said, sounding almost angry. "What about eating? When's the last time you ate a full meal?"
"Three or four days ago," Merlin mumbled. "I've been snacking, though."
"That doesn't count," Arthur hissed, now looking furious. "Why didn't you say anything?!" Merlin just shrugged, not looking the Pendragon in the eyes.
Pacing now, Arthur ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "Did you think you couldn't tell me for some reason? I would have let you take a break to eat, for gods' sake! Hell, I would've given you some of my food!"
Something in Arthur seemed to have snapped. He knew his servant had been tired, but the idea he'd been totally neglecting himself pushed him over the edge. All he could think about was two days ago when Merlin had snuck some sausage from his plate and he'd bloody punished him for it…
"I guess it just never occurred to me," Merlin tried. If he'd hoped to calm the agitated royal, to comment did a poor job of achieving its purpose.
"It never occurred to you?" Arthur echoed incredulously, stopping his pacing to fully face his servant.
"I'm a peasant, Arthur, I'm used to hunger," Merlin reminded. He was beginning to recognize that Arthur's anger was intended for himself and not the warlock.
"No, don't you dare give me that," the king hissed, jabbing a finger at his friend. "There's a difference between being a little underfed and forgetting to eat."
"Sorry?" Merlin tried, not sure what to say anymore. The king stopped and sighed, running one hand over his tired eyes. Merlin wondered how long the blonde had been up; all of his waiting seemed to have hit him at once.
"No, I'm sorry," the king mumbled. "I should've noticed. What kind of king am I if I don't even notice my own manservant is starving and exhausted?" It ran deeper than that, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to admit, even to himself, that he'd pushed his best friend to his limit and not noticed.
On any other occasion, the sorcerer would've teased his friend for using the s-word. This time, however, he stayed silent.
"I'm going to bed," the king announced, staring off blankly, his mind whirling. "This won't happen again." Merlin didn't see how Arthur could promise that, but once again he held his tongue.
Two days later, Gaius declared Merlin restored to full health and able to go back to work. When the manservant entered Arthur's chambers, however, he was surprised to see the king up and dressed.
"You can dress yourself!" Merlin quipped cheerfully, trying not to look wary. "Why up so early?"
Arthur didn't respond right away, but instead noted that his servant was on time for once. How much of his 'incompetence' could be because he's too overworked?
"Take a seat, Merlin," the king said finally, motioning to his table and taking a seat himself.
"Okay," Merlin said hesitantly, putting down Arthur's breakfast and taking a seat.
"Stay put," Arthur ordered firmly, and ignoring Merlin's complaint about being talked to like a dog, turned his attention to his food. He always had quite a spread- eggs, sausage, fresh fruit, and so on. More than enough for two people (though he planned to formally request double from the kitchens later).
His plan became obvious when he divided up the food onto the two plates and slid one in front of Merlin.
"But-" Merlin began, but Arthur was having none of it.
"Eat it," Arthur commanded. "Might as well not argue about it, because you're not leaving this room until you've cleaned that plate."
If Merlin noticed that somehow he'd gotten all of the sausage, he didn't comment. Likewise, in the years to come, visitors to Camelot learned not to comment on the king who shared all of his meals with his servant. It was probably just some weird Camelot custom, anyway.