Burns Too Bright, Lives Too Fast

Four days. What facts have you gathered, Arthur? One: in all likelihood, Dinah couldn't permanently maim a fly. Two: her powers are dangerous. Three: Your father doesn't believe in negotiating with sorcerers, let alone being friendly with them, and you are bound to the laws of Camelot. Four: You have a longstanding relationship with the idea that father may have... gone a bit too far in that. Five: You should be happy Morgana isn't here, because she would throw a book at your head, in all likelihood, and then you would have to be annoyed. Six: Father isn't actually here. Seven: You don't know what'll make it back. Eight: ...

Arthur was growing tired of running through the whole list over and over again. In order to prevent as much brooding as possible, he had acquired some more books the previous day. So while he waited for Merlin to arrive, he read.

Most of them were on elements of local culture (with a bent towards guns). But right now, he was leafing through the madly lifelike picture book of Britain instead.

Some things didn't change.

[[ for a guy with ears, but can be otherwise open after or before ]]

Arthur woke up without a pounding headache or any inclination to be lazy. He was annoyed, and annoyed made waking up far, far easier.

He did not have a hat.

In fact, he was already up and about in his sleeping shirt, poking at things and pacing around. There was someone he needed to yell at, and they'd best be on time for it, too.

Honestly. He continued to be surprised by just how much of an idiot Merlin was.

[[ expecting someone with big damn ears, but can be open afterwards! ]]