![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magog_83Title: Knight Puppy Pile
Wordcount: 1,960
Rating: G
Warnings: Some silliness. Possibly some crack too.
Summary: In which there is an Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha, some over-excited Knights, and a long-suffering manservant.
A/N: This is a collaborative effort between me and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vensre, although the original idea is entirely hers, and the title. My email search tells me that it was last August that she first mentioned the idea,
Picture, if you will, that when he travels with his knights, and there isn't any particular danger, they all sleep in a big puppy pile.
To which I replied,
OF COURSE the Knights all sleep in a puppy pile. I mean, those campsites can be cold! And there's safety in numbers. And... er... yeah. Also I now have this hilarious image of all the Knights of Camelot arguing over who's stealing the blankets and the fact that Bors keeps kicking Gawain in the shin.
And then somehow this got written and has been lurking at Google Docs for many months.
Knight Puppy Pile
The subtle jockeying for position began just after supper, starting with glares and shuffling of the seating order around the fire. The Prince caught on at once, of course, and looked amused as he always did. Merlin settled for exchanging a long-suffering look with Percy and pointedly seated himself, and the bridle he was repairing, as far from the Prince as possible, leaving Sir Bors to nearly set light to his hunting jacket in his eagerness to get Merlin's abandoned position at the Prince's side. By the time Bors had settled himself, pushing everyone up one space and shunting Percy clean off the end of the log, Percy decided Merlin had the right idea and made his way over to his considerably less crowded side of the campfire.
"I don't think anyone is getting in Bors's way tonight," said Merlin with a smirk, once Percy had dropped down next to him.
"Except Sir Rhys," said Percy, looking over at the knight as he attempted the risky 'giant yawn' manoeuvre in the hope of encouraging sleep while he was still close enough to the bedrolls to take advantage. Unfortunately for him, the Prince was still listening to Sir Henry's tragic account of being Warmer Than Anyone Else, an affliction he had apparently suffered from since he was a small child and which came on mostly at night.
"As long as he's not planning to steal my bedroll again," said Merlin darkly, pulling his thread tight and breaking it off with his teeth (with a bit more force than was strictly necessary).
"But the Prince let you share his!" said Percy, shocked, as he began to unwind a new piece of thread for Merlin. Indeed, kindness aside, the Prince's gesture had been worth it for Sir Rhys's face alone.
"Percy," said Merlin, as Percy lifted the thread to his mouth, "have you ever slept with the Prince?" There was a moment of confusion as Percy nearly bit straight through his tongue. "Let me rephrase that," said Merlin, once Percy had finished spitting out blood and soggy bits of thread. "If you had ever had the great privilege of sharing a bedroll with his royal pratness, you would know that he kicks like a donkey and hogs all the blankets."
Percy didn't know how to reply to that. Mainly because he could no longer feel his tongue.
"And anyway," went on Merlin, mouth lifting at the corners, "I wouldn't wish to deprive him of Sir Rhys's thrilling company."
Any sceptical comment Percy might or might not have been able to make at that point was cut off when the Prince chose that exact moment to yawn and stretch — causing several Knights to tense expectantly, and Sir Caradoc (who'd been on the cider) to become so excited he toppled backwards off his seat and had to be rescued by Bors and Gareth with much huffing and a few hiccups (from Caradoc).
"Sire!" he declared, once he'd staggered upright, "the night is cold and we must snuggle!"
There were a few eye rolls and one or two mutters of "subtle," before Bors cleared his throat and said, gallantly, "Caradoc has a point, Sire, there is a chill in the air and we would not wish you to become ill."
There was an outbreak of nodding and Sir Gawain was heard to comment on the terrible effects of frostbite.
"Very well," said the Prince heavily, after much deliberation, "for the Good of the Kingdom, we will have to use Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha."
"Of course, Sire," said Bors, already edging towards his bedroll in direct competition with Gawain, Rhys and Agravaine.
"Is that the one with the goat?" said Caradoc.
"That's sleeping plan delta, idiot," hissed Gareth, throwing Caradoc's bedroll at him.
"Here we go again," said Merlin, with an air of resignation.
It was really quite impressive, how the best of friends and comrades could become rather... determined... when a sleeping spot was at stake. For his own personal safety, Percy stayed well back from the sudden melee that broke out as bedrolls were seized and brothers-in-arms elbowed ruthlessly out of the way to a chorus of "Ow!"s and "cheat!" Until at last, with a final scuffle, some muttering and Caradoc attempting to appropriate Gareth's thigh as a pillow, they had established some sort of bedroll hierarchy around a superbly indifferent Prince Arthur ("Hah!" said Merlin, "don't let that fool you, he made me pack the extra large pillow."). Peering through the flames, Percy thought it just might be safe to find his own spot.
"Forget it, Bors. You're on the outside again, unless you let us tie you down."
Or maybe not.
In pride of place beside the Royal Bedroll, Bors went red. "That is not fair."
"Only because you kick!" said Gawain, from his other side.
"I can't help it," said Bors, verging on a whinge.
"I'm sorry Bors," said the Prince firmly, "I will not tolerate kickers."
Merlin snorted, as Bors adopted the Stiff Upper Lip for which the Knights of Camelot were renowned throughout the four kingdoms.
"However," said the Prince after a moment's thought, "I believe there is a space at my feet which should not go to waste."
Bors's Stiff Upper Lip quivered as he pressed a hand to his chest and managed, "Of course, Sire, it would be my honour!" (At this point Percy would forever after swear he heard a mutter of "suck up," from Gareth, but it could never be verified.)
"Now," said the Prince, putting his hands on his hips and heaving a deep sigh as he surveyed the rest of his men — who were all endeavouring to keep their legs as still as possible and look warm — "I still need someone to sleep next to me."
Gareth cleared his throat, meaningfully, and Caradoc apparently abandoned the last vestiges of sobriety to put his hand in the air and start bouncing up and down, seemingly about the burst with excitement.
"Oh for the love of god," said Merlin with feeling.
"It will need to be someone warm," said the Prince, frowning as if in deep thought.
"I bet I could hex him from here," Merlin continued speculatively. Percy bit back a smile.
"Someone who doesn't move around too much..."
All the Knights became As Stone. Except Caradoc, who Fell Over.
"...and definitely doesn't snore."
"Well that rules out Gawain," said Merlin.
"I have decided," declared the Prince. All the remaining Knights visibly straightened.
"Thank god for small mercies," came a mutter from Percy's right.
"Merlin!" Merlin stabbed himself with the needle as the Prince suddenly turned his gaze on him, looking, even to Percy, just a little smug and a lot like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Bring your bedroll over here."
All of the Knights turned to stare at Merlin, who was looking back quizzically and sucking his finger. "What? Why?"
The Prince gave him a withering look. "Because it might drizzle and I want to make a canopy." Merlin glared at him. "Why do you think? Idiot."
"You place your manservant above all of us?" Sir Rhys asked, aghast.
"Hardly," said Prince Arthur. "I believe it can be agreed that I have first pick of sleeping arrangements?"
There was a general murmur of assent, and several hopeful glances — doubtless encouraged by Merlin's impressive scowl and apparent reluctance to detach himself from the log he and Percy were sitting on, even with Percy's gentle push.
"So I'll be sleeping next to Merlin," the Prince said, with the expression Merlin had memorably referred to as his 'smug cat face' back in full force. "Because he is the cosiest."
"I resent that!" said Merlin.
"Tough," said Prince Arthur with a smirk, "I'm the Prince and I decide the logistics of Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha."
"You just like to snuggle," muttered Merlin, to a shocked gasp from Sir Rhys and sniggers from Gawain and Agravaine.
"Pardon?" snapped the Prince.
"I said 'It's just the night to huddle,'" said Merlin, smiling angelically.
The Prince humphed a little at that, and looked pointedly at Merlin until he dragged himself to his feet and scuffed his way around the campfire, his distinct lack of enthusiasm drawing scandalised glances from the others. Percy followed him, retrieving his bedroll from where Sir Rhys had clearly attempted to toss it in the river (fortunately his aim was atrocious). He turned back towards the camp just in time to see Merlin throw his bedroll down and flop down on it with no grace whatsoever.
"If you kick me, I shall set fire to your breeches," was his loud comment as he yanked the blankets up to his chin. Around them, the Knights took the wise decision to feign temporary deafness as they began to settle down as close to the Prince as they could without actually sleeping on him (which Percy understood was against royal protocol, even in Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha).
Prince Arthur lay down on his own bedroll, tugged Merlin's a few inches closer, and then carefully fluffed up his giant pillow by smacking Merlin with it. Several times. "Princes do not kick, Merlin."
"I hear asses do though," was Merlin's response to that, voice muffled by the blanket now pulled up over his head until only a few tufts of black hair could be seen.
Fortunately for Merlin, the Prince seemed too comfortable to bother smothering him with the pillow, merely managing a lazy flick of Merlin's ear through the thickness of the blanket.
With a sigh, Percy picked his way across the huddled forms as best he could — although they were so close together as to leave barely any space between them. From his position next to Bors, Rhys smirked at him and deliberately moved his foot — making Percy perform a somewhat undignified hop to avoid falling face first on Sir Gareth. It was then, as Rhys sniggered, that Merlin pushed the blanket back from his face and frowned at him through the gloom.
"What on earth are you doing?"
Balanced on one leg, bed roll in hand, Percy wobbled ominously, "er..."
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Come on, there's room for a small one." With that, he elbowed the Prince sharply in the side and told him firmly to "shove along, you lump, Percy can't lie down while you're taking up half the campsite."
"Oh, I didn't mean..." Percy began, only to trail off as Prince Arthur just lifted his head to glare at Merlin — who stared back stubbornly until the Prince grumbled and shifted along, nearly squashing Agravaine in the process. Percy lay out his bedroll in the small space made between Merlin and Gawain, doing his best to ignore the way Rhys was attempting to murder him with the Power of his Glare, and crawled under his blankets, listening to the slight shifts and rustling of cloth as the camp settled.
For a moment all was quiet.
Until,
"Ow!" came Merlin's voice, "I knew it! I knew you'd do that! You and your stupid plans and your stupid—"
"Do you hear that, men?" interrupted the Prince's sleepy voice, "I believe my manservant wishes us to scrap Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha."
There was a sudden chorus of horrified gasps and complaints as the men roused themselves enough to protest loudly and Caradoc threatened to drown himself in the river should such a terrible event come to pass.
"What were you saying, Merlin?" said the Prince, his still sleepy voice taking on a smug air as Gareth wrestled Caradoc back down to his blankets and safety.
"I hate you all," said Merlin, after a long moment.
And then there really was silence.
The End
Wordcount: 1,960
Rating: G
Warnings: Some silliness. Possibly some crack too.
Summary: In which there is an Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha, some over-excited Knights, and a long-suffering manservant.
A/N: This is a collaborative effort between me and
vensre, although the original idea is entirely hers, and the title. My email search tells me that it was last August that she first mentioned the idea,Picture, if you will, that when he travels with his knights, and there isn't any particular danger, they all sleep in a big puppy pile.
To which I replied,
OF COURSE the Knights all sleep in a puppy pile. I mean, those campsites can be cold! And there's safety in numbers. And... er... yeah. Also I now have this hilarious image of all the Knights of Camelot arguing over who's stealing the blankets and the fact that Bors keeps kicking Gawain in the shin.
And then somehow this got written and has been lurking at Google Docs for many months.
The subtle jockeying for position began just after supper, starting with glares and shuffling of the seating order around the fire. The Prince caught on at once, of course, and looked amused as he always did. Merlin settled for exchanging a long-suffering look with Percy and pointedly seated himself, and the bridle he was repairing, as far from the Prince as possible, leaving Sir Bors to nearly set light to his hunting jacket in his eagerness to get Merlin's abandoned position at the Prince's side. By the time Bors had settled himself, pushing everyone up one space and shunting Percy clean off the end of the log, Percy decided Merlin had the right idea and made his way over to his considerably less crowded side of the campfire.
"I don't think anyone is getting in Bors's way tonight," said Merlin with a smirk, once Percy had dropped down next to him.
"Except Sir Rhys," said Percy, looking over at the knight as he attempted the risky 'giant yawn' manoeuvre in the hope of encouraging sleep while he was still close enough to the bedrolls to take advantage. Unfortunately for him, the Prince was still listening to Sir Henry's tragic account of being Warmer Than Anyone Else, an affliction he had apparently suffered from since he was a small child and which came on mostly at night.
"As long as he's not planning to steal my bedroll again," said Merlin darkly, pulling his thread tight and breaking it off with his teeth (with a bit more force than was strictly necessary).
"But the Prince let you share his!" said Percy, shocked, as he began to unwind a new piece of thread for Merlin. Indeed, kindness aside, the Prince's gesture had been worth it for Sir Rhys's face alone.
"Percy," said Merlin, as Percy lifted the thread to his mouth, "have you ever slept with the Prince?" There was a moment of confusion as Percy nearly bit straight through his tongue. "Let me rephrase that," said Merlin, once Percy had finished spitting out blood and soggy bits of thread. "If you had ever had the great privilege of sharing a bedroll with his royal pratness, you would know that he kicks like a donkey and hogs all the blankets."
Percy didn't know how to reply to that. Mainly because he could no longer feel his tongue.
"And anyway," went on Merlin, mouth lifting at the corners, "I wouldn't wish to deprive him of Sir Rhys's thrilling company."
Any sceptical comment Percy might or might not have been able to make at that point was cut off when the Prince chose that exact moment to yawn and stretch — causing several Knights to tense expectantly, and Sir Caradoc (who'd been on the cider) to become so excited he toppled backwards off his seat and had to be rescued by Bors and Gareth with much huffing and a few hiccups (from Caradoc).
"Sire!" he declared, once he'd staggered upright, "the night is cold and we must snuggle!"
There were a few eye rolls and one or two mutters of "subtle," before Bors cleared his throat and said, gallantly, "Caradoc has a point, Sire, there is a chill in the air and we would not wish you to become ill."
There was an outbreak of nodding and Sir Gawain was heard to comment on the terrible effects of frostbite.
"Very well," said the Prince heavily, after much deliberation, "for the Good of the Kingdom, we will have to use Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha."
"Of course, Sire," said Bors, already edging towards his bedroll in direct competition with Gawain, Rhys and Agravaine.
"Is that the one with the goat?" said Caradoc.
"That's sleeping plan delta, idiot," hissed Gareth, throwing Caradoc's bedroll at him.
"Here we go again," said Merlin, with an air of resignation.
It was really quite impressive, how the best of friends and comrades could become rather... determined... when a sleeping spot was at stake. For his own personal safety, Percy stayed well back from the sudden melee that broke out as bedrolls were seized and brothers-in-arms elbowed ruthlessly out of the way to a chorus of "Ow!"s and "cheat!" Until at last, with a final scuffle, some muttering and Caradoc attempting to appropriate Gareth's thigh as a pillow, they had established some sort of bedroll hierarchy around a superbly indifferent Prince Arthur ("Hah!" said Merlin, "don't let that fool you, he made me pack the extra large pillow."). Peering through the flames, Percy thought it just might be safe to find his own spot.
"Forget it, Bors. You're on the outside again, unless you let us tie you down."
Or maybe not.
In pride of place beside the Royal Bedroll, Bors went red. "That is not fair."
"Only because you kick!" said Gawain, from his other side.
"I can't help it," said Bors, verging on a whinge.
"I'm sorry Bors," said the Prince firmly, "I will not tolerate kickers."
Merlin snorted, as Bors adopted the Stiff Upper Lip for which the Knights of Camelot were renowned throughout the four kingdoms.
"However," said the Prince after a moment's thought, "I believe there is a space at my feet which should not go to waste."
Bors's Stiff Upper Lip quivered as he pressed a hand to his chest and managed, "Of course, Sire, it would be my honour!" (At this point Percy would forever after swear he heard a mutter of "suck up," from Gareth, but it could never be verified.)
"Now," said the Prince, putting his hands on his hips and heaving a deep sigh as he surveyed the rest of his men — who were all endeavouring to keep their legs as still as possible and look warm — "I still need someone to sleep next to me."
Gareth cleared his throat, meaningfully, and Caradoc apparently abandoned the last vestiges of sobriety to put his hand in the air and start bouncing up and down, seemingly about the burst with excitement.
"Oh for the love of god," said Merlin with feeling.
"It will need to be someone warm," said the Prince, frowning as if in deep thought.
"I bet I could hex him from here," Merlin continued speculatively. Percy bit back a smile.
"Someone who doesn't move around too much..."
All the Knights became As Stone. Except Caradoc, who Fell Over.
"...and definitely doesn't snore."
"Well that rules out Gawain," said Merlin.
"I have decided," declared the Prince. All the remaining Knights visibly straightened.
"Thank god for small mercies," came a mutter from Percy's right.
"Merlin!" Merlin stabbed himself with the needle as the Prince suddenly turned his gaze on him, looking, even to Percy, just a little smug and a lot like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Bring your bedroll over here."
All of the Knights turned to stare at Merlin, who was looking back quizzically and sucking his finger. "What? Why?"
The Prince gave him a withering look. "Because it might drizzle and I want to make a canopy." Merlin glared at him. "Why do you think? Idiot."
"You place your manservant above all of us?" Sir Rhys asked, aghast.
"Hardly," said Prince Arthur. "I believe it can be agreed that I have first pick of sleeping arrangements?"
There was a general murmur of assent, and several hopeful glances — doubtless encouraged by Merlin's impressive scowl and apparent reluctance to detach himself from the log he and Percy were sitting on, even with Percy's gentle push.
"So I'll be sleeping next to Merlin," the Prince said, with the expression Merlin had memorably referred to as his 'smug cat face' back in full force. "Because he is the cosiest."
"I resent that!" said Merlin.
"Tough," said Prince Arthur with a smirk, "I'm the Prince and I decide the logistics of Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha."
"You just like to snuggle," muttered Merlin, to a shocked gasp from Sir Rhys and sniggers from Gawain and Agravaine.
"Pardon?" snapped the Prince.
"I said 'It's just the night to huddle,'" said Merlin, smiling angelically.
The Prince humphed a little at that, and looked pointedly at Merlin until he dragged himself to his feet and scuffed his way around the campfire, his distinct lack of enthusiasm drawing scandalised glances from the others. Percy followed him, retrieving his bedroll from where Sir Rhys had clearly attempted to toss it in the river (fortunately his aim was atrocious). He turned back towards the camp just in time to see Merlin throw his bedroll down and flop down on it with no grace whatsoever.
"If you kick me, I shall set fire to your breeches," was his loud comment as he yanked the blankets up to his chin. Around them, the Knights took the wise decision to feign temporary deafness as they began to settle down as close to the Prince as they could without actually sleeping on him (which Percy understood was against royal protocol, even in Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha).
Prince Arthur lay down on his own bedroll, tugged Merlin's a few inches closer, and then carefully fluffed up his giant pillow by smacking Merlin with it. Several times. "Princes do not kick, Merlin."
"I hear asses do though," was Merlin's response to that, voice muffled by the blanket now pulled up over his head until only a few tufts of black hair could be seen.
Fortunately for Merlin, the Prince seemed too comfortable to bother smothering him with the pillow, merely managing a lazy flick of Merlin's ear through the thickness of the blanket.
With a sigh, Percy picked his way across the huddled forms as best he could — although they were so close together as to leave barely any space between them. From his position next to Bors, Rhys smirked at him and deliberately moved his foot — making Percy perform a somewhat undignified hop to avoid falling face first on Sir Gareth. It was then, as Rhys sniggered, that Merlin pushed the blanket back from his face and frowned at him through the gloom.
"What on earth are you doing?"
Balanced on one leg, bed roll in hand, Percy wobbled ominously, "er..."
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Come on, there's room for a small one." With that, he elbowed the Prince sharply in the side and told him firmly to "shove along, you lump, Percy can't lie down while you're taking up half the campsite."
"Oh, I didn't mean..." Percy began, only to trail off as Prince Arthur just lifted his head to glare at Merlin — who stared back stubbornly until the Prince grumbled and shifted along, nearly squashing Agravaine in the process. Percy lay out his bedroll in the small space made between Merlin and Gawain, doing his best to ignore the way Rhys was attempting to murder him with the Power of his Glare, and crawled under his blankets, listening to the slight shifts and rustling of cloth as the camp settled.
For a moment all was quiet.
Until,
"Ow!" came Merlin's voice, "I knew it! I knew you'd do that! You and your stupid plans and your stupid—"
"Do you hear that, men?" interrupted the Prince's sleepy voice, "I believe my manservant wishes us to scrap Emergency Sleeping Plan Alpha."
There was a sudden chorus of horrified gasps and complaints as the men roused themselves enough to protest loudly and Caradoc threatened to drown himself in the river should such a terrible event come to pass.
"What were you saying, Merlin?" said the Prince, his still sleepy voice taking on a smug air as Gareth wrestled Caradoc back down to his blankets and safety.
"I hate you all," said Merlin, after a long moment.
And then there really was silence.
The End
