A prompt by a reader called Niffon-Faol.
Merlin was fidgeting with the fastener on the king's cloak.
"Are you nervous?"
"No."
"It's okay to be nervous. This is a big—"
"Merlin?"
"Yes?"
"Shut up. I'm not nervous."
The court sorcerer nodded and stepped back, observing his work.
"Arthur, I should tell you—"
The king looked at him expectantly, but how could he tell him? Besides, he wasn't sure what the vision meant. Gwen and Lancelot could be leaving the city together for any number of reasons.
Right?
"Merlin?"
The warlock inhaled deeply.
"Good luck, sire."
Arthur grinned and thanked him as he took his place.
