So apparently Karla 'wasn't feeling too well' and 'needed some time away from it all' and whatever other rubbish Merlin had been spouting. Arthur still thought this was the worst bloody idea since that time he shot that unicorn. No good would come of it.

In the end, Merlin had insisted, and in the end, Arthur had very grudgingly capitulated, but not before setting up a list of rules for the little witch that reached roughly the size of a small mountain. 'Do not spend more than ten hours a day in the castle', for example, and 'only speak when spoken to' and 'for god's sake, do NOT do that thing you do, you know the one I'm talking about'.

There was also something in there about the proper cut and hemline of servants' dresses, just in case she decided to try and tempt any of the knights. (He had compromised on the list! Look, wear a shapeless sack had been scratched out! As had pretend to be a bag of potatoes!)

Arthur liked being thorough.

Which was also why he'd invited two other people who had a bit more experience dealing with these issues. Just to be certain.

[[ for those who be arriving, and merlin. ]]
There were days Arthur was very pleased to have the room all to himself. This Sunday was shaping up to be one. For example, he'd managed to block off the door to the point that it could not be opened by someone of Merlin's rather lacking constitution, which was very, very necessary.

"Isn't this supposed to wear off after a day?" he snapped at the boy. Minding him had made it close to impossible to go out and kill whatever sorceror was responsible this time.

[[ for that guy ]]
Arthur woke up groggily, and strangely chilled, like there was some important element of heat missing from his bed. That was odd. What could be missing? He distinctly remembered going to bed with Merlin last ni--

His eyes flew open, blinking at the empty half of the bed. Right. Had he suffered a rare fit of action and devoted himself to getting breakfast? That would be a novelty. He skimmed the room with his eyes, but didn't find him. All right then. He turned over onto his back, making better use of the rest of the bed. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

When even calling him didn't get a response, Arthur was forced to move, kicking his blankets away. Right. He yanked on some clothes. Where would his useless manservant be now?

Sicne it was Merlin, Arthur started by looking under the bed.

[[ mostly establishy, but door is closed and post can be open if you really wanna ]]

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bitchprince

December 2020

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