Arthur had deposited Francine's beast of a cake where it belonged - namely, in a corner of his room where he and Merlin could pick at it occasionally. It was easily one of the better gifts he'd gotten for the whole waste of a day that was his birthday, barring perhaps the sword from Lord Ewyn, but he didn't have as much of an apetite for it as he'd ( Read more... )

This was a horrible idea ( Read more... )

Occasionally, Arthur had an hour or so to spare in between his duties. Sometimes, especially these days, he liked to come up here when he did so, peering out from the parapets and onto the streets below. Today was such a day; he'd climbed up here on his own, shirking his heavy jacket somewhere along the line ( Read more... )

"So, we still haven't gotten to the matter of what you were thinking," Arthur said, ever so kindly, as he barged into Morgana's rooms. He'd been trying to reach her since the debacle last week, but Uther had fussed and Gwen had fussed and everyone in the bloody castle had fussed over Morgana when really, she'd earned a good shouting-at ( Read more... )

Hours, Arthur had spent preparing himself for a private chat with his father; the entire conversation itself had lasted scant minutes. He had known better than to press harder for the druids' women and children to be spared - Uther might have been under the influence of a troll the last time he opposed Arthur's counsel, but Arthur had gleaned some ( Read more... )

It had taken them a day to ride from where the portal had dropped them off to the castle, and that was only fair: if nothing else, it limited the chances that they'd be caught. Having shot a deer along the way, Arthur was in good spirits, glad to be home, and perhaps a little happy to have seen his friends, after all ( Read more... )

Arthur had already mostly settled into the knowledge that he wouldn't be making it to Homecoming. There was too much going on across Camelot, too many things to settle, and he really couldn't justify making up some story for his father just to see some friends. He owed his kingdom more than that.

Which had been his story right up until he got the ( Read more... )

Arthur had fallen asleep not at all snuggling a pillow or getting spooned last night.

That would just be silly.

If that was the way he was spread out now, though, well, that was just a fluke of restless sleep. Face pressed into the pillow, pillow pressed to his chest, back pressed against scrawny manservant: check ( Read more... )

It was utterly early in the morning, at least in Camelot - in Fandom, it was probably a few hours later, though it wasn't as if this was on Arthur's mind. He rode out early with Merlin, giving the lad some time to poke about for Gaius's herbs (under Arthur's watchful, mocking eye, of course) and enjoy the early morning sun on their face ( Read more... )

The morning had been spent in training, as it always was: it had been a mild day for Arthur, which meant most of the knights had come out of the ordeal relatively unscathed. After that, pouring over the fine print of some old treaty Uther was considering expanding on, and then making certain their grain reserves were still full enough, and then ( Read more... )