Just Deserts | Merlin, Gwen, Arthur, Morgana | G | set early in S3 (part 1 of 2)
It began with a bucket of water propped over the door to Arthur's bedchamber.
There was no question but that Merlin had been the one to put it there; he was rather vocal about not having forgiven Arthur for dumping the bucket over his head the week before, when he had been scrubbing the floor of Arthur's chambers shortly after Morgana's return to Camelot. Therefore, it was equally clear that the intended recipient had been the prince, himself.
In no way, shape, or form had Merlin expected Gwen to open that door first.
"You have done a lot of stupid things in your time, Merlin, but this is even too stupid for you!" Arthur glared at his manservant.
"I'm sorry," Merlin said sincerely, his eyes going to where Gwen was wrapped in Arthur's old blue cloak, a puddle around her feet. He felt just awful about it, but Arthur was unmoved by his regret.
"I cannot even decide what to do with you right now," Arthur continued. "Get out of my sight!"
"Arthur," Gwen protested gently, but Merlin knew it was best to disappear for awhile when Arthur got like that. With a look at her that was equal parts apology and thanks, Merlin hurried out of the room.
"Honestly, I should just... throw him to the wolves!" Arthur turned to Gwen in frustration.
She smiled at the unlikely suggestion. "That is one option," she agreed. "Or, we could do something a bit more creative." Her eyes sparkled with humor.
"More creative than wolves?" He was teasing with that, unable to remain worked up when Guinevere was smiling like that, even if he was still displeased that she was sopping wet and probably uncomfortable. "What did you have in mind?"
It took a couple of days for Gwen's plan to be ready. Once it was set up, the two of them hid down the corridor along with Gaius, who approved even if it meant his own chamber would be be affected. None of them could see anything and still wish to remain hidden from Merlin, so they awaited his yell.
Footsteps sounded from the opposite end of the corridor, and the three conspirators got ready to see the results of their handiwork. However, the cry that reached their ears was not Merlin's. They rushed into the physician's chambers, where feathers floated through the air and along the floor, originating from Merlin's room. Going to his door, they discovered that the result was even better than they could have anticipated; a few solid inches of feathers covered his floor, his bed, his cupboard... everything. Until the string stretched across the floor had been tripped, the feathers had been contained in burlap overhead; now, the rough fabric hung down from where Arthur had nailed parts of it to the ceiling.
Rather than Merlin standing in the middle of his room, also covered in feathers, they found a confused and rather irate Morgana.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.
Gwen's hand flew to her mouth, and Gaius hung back behind the actual guilty parties. Arthur burst out laughing.
"I don't see what's so funny," Morgana snapped, marching toward them to get out of the fluffy mess.
"I'm sorry," Arthur said, still laughing too much to sound remotely like he meant it. "That was intended for Merlin."
"I figured that much out for myself." Morgana shot him a look as she began brushing off her gown. Gwen hurried over to help her get the feathers out of her hair.
"What were you doing in Merlin's room, my lady?" Gaius asked curiously.
Morgana hesitated, then replied, "You were not to be found, so I was checking to see if Merlin was."
"Ah," he said neutrally. "Well, as I am here now, is there something I can help you with?"
She shook her head. "Never mind; it's not important." Turning to Gwen and Arthur, she said, "You're trying to play a trick on Merlin?"
"He started it," Arthur said, realizing as soon as the words were out of his mouth how childish that sounded. Gwen bit her lip in a failed attempt to keep from smiling.
They quickly explained the situation to Morgana. She tilted her head thoughtfully. "This was good, but I think we can do even better," she told them, her lips curving into something that struck Gwen as being rather close to a smirk.
It began with a bucket of water propped over the door to Arthur's bedchamber.
There was no question but that Merlin had been the one to put it there; he was rather vocal about not having forgiven Arthur for dumping the bucket over his head the week before, when he had been scrubbing the floor of Arthur's chambers shortly after Morgana's return to Camelot. Therefore, it was equally clear that the intended recipient had been the prince, himself.
In no way, shape, or form had Merlin expected Gwen to open that door first.
"You have done a lot of stupid things in your time, Merlin, but this is even too stupid for you!" Arthur glared at his manservant.
"I'm sorry," Merlin said sincerely, his eyes going to where Gwen was wrapped in Arthur's old blue cloak, a puddle around her feet. He felt just awful about it, but Arthur was unmoved by his regret.
"I cannot even decide what to do with you right now," Arthur continued. "Get out of my sight!"
"Arthur," Gwen protested gently, but Merlin knew it was best to disappear for awhile when Arthur got like that. With a look at her that was equal parts apology and thanks, Merlin hurried out of the room.
"Honestly, I should just... throw him to the wolves!" Arthur turned to Gwen in frustration.
She smiled at the unlikely suggestion. "That is one option," she agreed. "Or, we could do something a bit more creative." Her eyes sparkled with humor.
"More creative than wolves?" He was teasing with that, unable to remain worked up when Guinevere was smiling like that, even if he was still displeased that she was sopping wet and probably uncomfortable. "What did you have in mind?"
It took a couple of days for Gwen's plan to be ready. Once it was set up, the two of them hid down the corridor along with Gaius, who approved even if it meant his own chamber would be be affected. None of them could see anything and still wish to remain hidden from Merlin, so they awaited his yell.
Footsteps sounded from the opposite end of the corridor, and the three conspirators got ready to see the results of their handiwork. However, the cry that reached their ears was not Merlin's. They rushed into the physician's chambers, where feathers floated through the air and along the floor, originating from Merlin's room. Going to his door, they discovered that the result was even better than they could have anticipated; a few solid inches of feathers covered his floor, his bed, his cupboard... everything. Until the string stretched across the floor had been tripped, the feathers had been contained in burlap overhead; now, the rough fabric hung down from where Arthur had nailed parts of it to the ceiling.
Rather than Merlin standing in the middle of his room, also covered in feathers, they found a confused and rather irate Morgana.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.
Gwen's hand flew to her mouth, and Gaius hung back behind the actual guilty parties. Arthur burst out laughing.
"I don't see what's so funny," Morgana snapped, marching toward them to get out of the fluffy mess.
"I'm sorry," Arthur said, still laughing too much to sound remotely like he meant it. "That was intended for Merlin."
"I figured that much out for myself." Morgana shot him a look as she began brushing off her gown. Gwen hurried over to help her get the feathers out of her hair.
"What were you doing in Merlin's room, my lady?" Gaius asked curiously.
Morgana hesitated, then replied, "You were not to be found, so I was checking to see if Merlin was."
"Ah," he said neutrally. "Well, as I am here now, is there something I can help you with?"
She shook her head. "Never mind; it's not important." Turning to Gwen and Arthur, she said, "You're trying to play a trick on Merlin?"
"He started it," Arthur said, realizing as soon as the words were out of his mouth how childish that sounded. Gwen bit her lip in a failed attempt to keep from smiling.
They quickly explained the situation to Morgana. She tilted her head thoughtfully. "This was good, but I think we can do even better," she told them, her lips curving into something that struck Gwen as being rather close to a smirk.
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