bitchprince | On the Road in the Brecon Beacons, Wednesday

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On the Road in the Brecon Beacons, Wednesday

Arthur was still driving. He had yet to cause any accidents or collisions, although he'd probably killed his fair share of overconfident birds by now.

He wasn't, after all, going to stop driving because of a mad pigeon or something.

But nevermind that.

Driving around the countryside was getting to be oddly relaxing, once one got the hang of it.

[[ open to those of you currently haunting this part of England ]]

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"Rabbiting on?" Merlin huffed, taking the next line sulkily.

I mean... with mature grace and dignity befitting a man.

"If you're that concerned about being cold, you can always build the campfire, too," Arthur pointed out, nailing down a fourth line into the soil. "It's not like you'd be any use on the hunt."

"And yet you always drag me along," Merlin replied, rolling his eyes.

"I'm still not entirely sure why," Arthur said, pausing in his work to muse about that.

"I was hoping you'd say why."

"Well, your antics are amusing on occasion."

Merlin tossed a twig at him. "Ha ha."

Arthur grinned back at him, and stepped in his general direction. And a bit further. "Honestly," he said, "I've never met anyone as skilled at making a prat out of themselves as you."

"...are you mimicking me?"

"I'm not," Arthur said, shooting him an amused look. And coming to a stop in front of him. "However, I felt it was the proper word for just how much of an idiot you manage to be. I mean, it's truly astounding."

Especially if you ran it through the translator that generally established that idiot = 'I love you', but la la la.

"Really?" Merlin asked, holding up one finger to jab Arthur in the chest.

"I would say so," he hummed, "I mean, you've tripped over thin air before. That's a mean feat."

"Oh?" He pushed, eyes flashing with more than just amusement as there was suddenly no ground beneath Arthur's feet. And look! He was finally taller than Merlin.

"--What?!" Patent pending.

His height levels had rather abruptly changed. "Merlin!"

"You were saying?" Merlin asked sweetly.

"Set me down!"

"I don't know," Merlin said, pulling him down with a finger. "I might trip over myself."

Arthur glared at him. "You know, if you're going to flagrantly abuse your magic in front of me," he said, "You might as well use it to heat up the tent."

"Get some wood and I'll start a fire."

"You do have that heating spell," Arthur pointed out to him. Still slightly miffed, yes.

"Can't cook with that," Merlin shot back.

"Can keep the inside of the tent warm with that," Arthur returned. "Anyway, I was going for a hunt as soon as I got the tent up. Ask the girls to gather the wood."

That would end well.

"..." Merlin was thinking the same. "You can ask them."

"Are you still terrified of Katchoo?"

"You're not?"

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