Merlin managed to get out of bed just long enough to grab the last blanket and arrange something like a blanket fort. There were pillows for support, alright?
"You're an ingrate," Arthur said, with feeling, practically diving into bed without as much as taking his clothes of. "I'm fairly sure you planned this. But I have... Stuff."
Arthur shoved the bag at him and pulled the covers over his shoulders. This was one of very few instances in which he approved of the notion of a blanket fort.
"We could make a run for food and then come back."
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It lasted a few long seconds.
"Fine," he said, finally, "If you must be such a worrywart."
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A beat.
"AND MEAT!"
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It worked.
And now he waited for food.
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He was freezing. Absolutely freezing.
He was not going to admit to it.
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He hadn't checked.
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