Merlin switched on the TV with a shaky hand and stared listlessly at the screen as he took a tiny sip of the overly-milky tea. His heart was heavy in his chest as he realised he'd already lost his best friend. So many years he'd waited, so many friends he'd seen die and already within an hour he'd fought with Arthur and probably lost him. He was heartless. Arthur had suddenly awoken to find his friends dead, his kingdom gone and in a world full of strange fabrics and foods, new technology and new ideas. And Merlin had been a total idiot about it.
A few hours later the door to the living room slowly slid open with a slight creak and Arthur stepped through it nervously.
"Hi..." he murmured at Merlin, who sat up hunched on the sofa with a cushion hugged to his chest. He pulled his eyes away from the TV and glanced at Arthur.
"Hi," he whispered, unsure of what else he could say.
"I... I uhm..." said Arthur, his eyes darting left and right. Merlin just smiled, enjoying the King's uncomfortableness slightly as he patted the seat beside him. Arthur glanced at the chair before smiling too and flopping into it.
"I'm sor-" they both started to say at the same time, causing a chain of nervous laughter from both of them.
"I shouldn't have been so insensitive," admitted Merlin, causing Arthur to nod slowly.
"I shouldn't have been so judgemental," admitted Arthur, "And you do have a lovely home!" he smiled.
"So... Forgive and forget?" asked Merlin cautiously.
"Forgive and forget," agreed Arthur before turning to face the TV, "Anyways, who is this guy?" he asked, scrutinising Jeremy Clarkson closely.
"When can I go to Cardiff?" asked Arthur excitedly, "I wanna see the flat you're always raving about!" he said, looking across at Merlin.
"Tomorrow!" laughed Merlin, "I keep telling you! I work there Monday to Friday and I'm here on Saturday and Sunday," he repeated for the fifth or sixth time that day. Instead of pouting as he usually did, Arthur suddenly looked up.
"But where do I fit in?" he asked worriedly, making Merlin turn to face him from the stove.
"You... You can... I..." stuttered Merlin, not knowing what to say.
"I can what? Get a job? Doing what?" asked Arthur, angrily defensive.
"How do I know? Huh? I have no freaking idea Arthur!" exclaimed Merlin, turning back to stir the pasta sauce. A few tense moments of silence passed.
"I... I'm sorry. I just... I seriously don't know Arthur. If we can just find you a job to start with... And take it from there," said Merlin, slowly turning back to face him.
"But I can't do anything! I can be King... And that's it," protested Arthur with a sigh.
"We'll find something. We could check out Prats-Wanted dot com," suggested Merlin with a grin as he served up dinner. Arthur grimaced and picked up the book that beside him, aiming it at Merlin's head. Knowing it was coming, Merlin masterfully managed to duck, causing the book to fly over his head and land in the sink. He stood up straight and smartened his clothes before placing the food on the table.
"Over a thousand years Arthur... So much time to practice," he smiled sweetly as he sat beside the King, picking up his fork and shovelling the hot food into his mouth.