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magog_83Wordcount: 616
Rating: G
Summary: Merlin has eaten too much and Arthur is put upon. A small moment between the King and his sorcerer after a feast, featuring possibly anachronistic shrimp eating.
A/N Inspired by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vensre mentioning some epic shrimp eating (don't ask, my brain works in odd ways) :D
Merlin flopped face first onto the bed and didn’t move. When this failed to wring any sort of reaction from the King, seated at his table and frowning down at a densely written scroll, he tried rolling over onto his back, letting out a loud and heartfelt moan as he did so.
“Kill me now.”
“In a minute,” the heartless King muttered, crossing through a line and scribbling something in the margins of the page.
Merlin poked his head up from the admittedly very comfortable pillows and glared. “I’m dying, Arthur.”
“Then I may as well stay here and let nature take its course.”
Merlin let his head drop back with a soft thump. “Why is this happening to me?”
King Arthur sighed and reached for a fresh quill. “Because you ate enough of that shrimp, or whatever it was, to have killed a lesser man, or certainly one without a bottomless chasm for a stomach.”
Merlin blew a rather pathetic raspberry. “Not my fault, Gwen dared me.”
“I’m sure Guinevere did no such thing.”
“She did, she said she was sure I couldn’t eat another bite.”
The King put down the quill and turned an exasperated look on his ridiculous Court Sorcerer. “A perfectly reasonable suggestion, all things considered. So, what? You were determined to prove her wrong?”
“The honour of Camelot was at stake.”
“I’ll remind you of that when we’re widening the doorway to your chambers.”
“Ugh,” was Merlin’s eloquent reply as he flung one arm across his face. “Come here and massage my stomach.”
“No.”
“But it hurts.”
“I think you’ve forgotten who I am again.”
“You’re my minion.”
“I believe the word you’re searching for is lord and master.”
Merlin let his arm drop back enough to narrow his eyes at the table until scroll, ink, quills and goblet were dancing across the smooth surface and the King was scowling at him. True, they were dancing rather sluggishly, and the goblet had already staggered to a halt and fallen over, where it lay twitching feebly, but Merlin felt his point had been made. “Minion,” he muttered once more for emphasis, and dropped his arm back across his face.
There was a loud scrape as a chair was pushed back, then the King’s voice, sounding cross. “I’m sure Bayard doesn’t have this problem with his High Sorcerer.”
“Bayard’s High Sorcerer doesn’t have my charm and good looks.”
“Hmm,” was the King’s only response to that before Merlin felt the bed dip and seconds later cool air on his stomach as his tunic was pushed up, and warm, calloused hands pressed gently against his skin.
“Mmmm that’s better,” Merlin murmured after a few long moments. His arm fell back to the bedspread and he smiled muzzily at his King. “Can you do my back as well?”
The King poked him in the side, startling an indignant squawk entirely unbecoming of a Court Sorcerer. “No I cannot, and I suggest you think again next time anyone ‘dares’ you to inhale the contents of a feast table.”
“I could just magic it back out,” said Merlin, unperturbed.
“Please don’t, I don’t want to find your intestines in the stables.”
Merlin snorted with laughter, then groaned, clutching his side. “Ow!” He heaved a great sigh. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because I am never eating again.”
“What a shame,” the King said, as he stood up and moved back to the table. “I ordered the kitchen to send the leftover marchpane to my chambers in the morning.”
“Except for marchpane,” Merlin put in very firmly, and the King’s mouth twitched in a hidden smile as he pulled the scroll back towards him and went back to work.
The End
Rating: G
Summary: Merlin has eaten too much and Arthur is put upon. A small moment between the King and his sorcerer after a feast, featuring possibly anachronistic shrimp eating.
A/N Inspired by
vensre mentioning some epic shrimp eating (don't ask, my brain works in odd ways) :DMerlin flopped face first onto the bed and didn’t move. When this failed to wring any sort of reaction from the King, seated at his table and frowning down at a densely written scroll, he tried rolling over onto his back, letting out a loud and heartfelt moan as he did so.
“Kill me now.”
“In a minute,” the heartless King muttered, crossing through a line and scribbling something in the margins of the page.
Merlin poked his head up from the admittedly very comfortable pillows and glared. “I’m dying, Arthur.”
“Then I may as well stay here and let nature take its course.”
Merlin let his head drop back with a soft thump. “Why is this happening to me?”
King Arthur sighed and reached for a fresh quill. “Because you ate enough of that shrimp, or whatever it was, to have killed a lesser man, or certainly one without a bottomless chasm for a stomach.”
Merlin blew a rather pathetic raspberry. “Not my fault, Gwen dared me.”
“I’m sure Guinevere did no such thing.”
“She did, she said she was sure I couldn’t eat another bite.”
The King put down the quill and turned an exasperated look on his ridiculous Court Sorcerer. “A perfectly reasonable suggestion, all things considered. So, what? You were determined to prove her wrong?”
“The honour of Camelot was at stake.”
“I’ll remind you of that when we’re widening the doorway to your chambers.”
“Ugh,” was Merlin’s eloquent reply as he flung one arm across his face. “Come here and massage my stomach.”
“No.”
“But it hurts.”
“I think you’ve forgotten who I am again.”
“You’re my minion.”
“I believe the word you’re searching for is lord and master.”
Merlin let his arm drop back enough to narrow his eyes at the table until scroll, ink, quills and goblet were dancing across the smooth surface and the King was scowling at him. True, they were dancing rather sluggishly, and the goblet had already staggered to a halt and fallen over, where it lay twitching feebly, but Merlin felt his point had been made. “Minion,” he muttered once more for emphasis, and dropped his arm back across his face.
There was a loud scrape as a chair was pushed back, then the King’s voice, sounding cross. “I’m sure Bayard doesn’t have this problem with his High Sorcerer.”
“Bayard’s High Sorcerer doesn’t have my charm and good looks.”
“Hmm,” was the King’s only response to that before Merlin felt the bed dip and seconds later cool air on his stomach as his tunic was pushed up, and warm, calloused hands pressed gently against his skin.
“Mmmm that’s better,” Merlin murmured after a few long moments. His arm fell back to the bedspread and he smiled muzzily at his King. “Can you do my back as well?”
The King poked him in the side, startling an indignant squawk entirely unbecoming of a Court Sorcerer. “No I cannot, and I suggest you think again next time anyone ‘dares’ you to inhale the contents of a feast table.”
“I could just magic it back out,” said Merlin, unperturbed.
“Please don’t, I don’t want to find your intestines in the stables.”
Merlin snorted with laughter, then groaned, clutching his side. “Ow!” He heaved a great sigh. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because I am never eating again.”
“What a shame,” the King said, as he stood up and moved back to the table. “I ordered the kitchen to send the leftover marchpane to my chambers in the morning.”
“Except for marchpane,” Merlin put in very firmly, and the King’s mouth twitched in a hidden smile as he pulled the scroll back towards him and went back to work.
The End
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Date: 2010-10-04 01:42 am (UTC)v. v. adorable, bb ♥ ♥
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Date: 2010-10-08 06:55 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading!!
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Date: 2010-10-08 07:39 pm (UTC)