Moonlight
“This is all your fault, Merlin!” Arthur grumbled.
Merlin wasn’t sure how Arthur had worked that one out. It was Gwaine who had claimed he could see perfectly well in the moonlight (doubtless something he discovered whilst staggering home from the tavern at midnight) and that he could lead them back to Camelot just fine.
He’d led them into a fine stretch of marshland and now the red livery of the Camelot knights and their king were a sodden, muddy brown.
“Gwaine’s, surely?” Merlin protested.
“Gwaine,” Arthur growled, “can’t conjure mysterious balls of light, magically just know the right direction, or best of all - make all this mud vanish.”
“What? You think I can?” Merlin squeaked. “That’s ridiculous! That’s illegal!”
Cold, tired and dripping with wet mud, Arthur and the knights all just looked at him expectantly.
Perhaps he hadn’t been quite as discreet as he’d thought.
Merlin wasn’t sure how Arthur had worked that one out. It was Gwaine who had claimed he could see perfectly well in the moonlight (doubtless something he discovered whilst staggering home from the tavern at midnight) and that he could lead them back to Camelot just fine.
He’d led them into a fine stretch of marshland and now the red livery of the Camelot knights and their king were a sodden, muddy brown.
“Gwaine’s, surely?” Merlin protested.
“Gwaine,” Arthur growled, “can’t conjure mysterious balls of light, magically just know the right direction, or best of all - make all this mud vanish.”
“What? You think I can?” Merlin squeaked. “That’s ridiculous! That’s illegal!”
Cold, tired and dripping with wet mud, Arthur and the knights all just looked at him expectantly.
Perhaps he hadn’t been quite as discreet as he’d thought.