Fic: Secret Art
Title: Secret Art
Author: vensre
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: Ø
Wordcount: 431
Summary: Of course Arthur already knows about Merlin's hiding spot.
Notes: If you prefer, read it at AOOO.
The ramparts were not built for comfort, that was clear. When the winds were northerly they scraped the top of the walls with particular fierceness, and it was a rare nook where one could hide from the wind without sitting in chill shadows.
Merlin should not have been surprised that Arthur knew them all, but he startled anyway when a sudden shade fell over his upturned face.
"Budge over," said Arthur, and Merlin did in the interest of not being squashed. Arthur settled in, even making himself welcome by warming the left side of Merlin nicely. "A fine day for shirking," Arthur pronounced.
"Are you?" inquired Merlin.
"As if I could. It's not the same when your job isn't your life. You at least get holidays and all."
Merlin snorted and cast a sideways glance at Arthur, who was scanning the sky almost dreamily.
"This nearest cloud looks so like a dragon."
"Oh, erm, it does! Amazing," Merlin said.
"You humour me at the least useful times imaginable, you know that? If you think the bloody cloud looks more like a parsnip or an ass's rear end, you hereby have permission to try to convince me of it."
"No, well, I really do think it looks like a dragon too. At least mostly. Kind of blowing away now."
Arthur scowled up at the bending white clouds. "Why'd it sound like you were lying about it, then? That's a ridiculous thing to lie about."
"I wasn't lying," Merlin said, heart tripping double quick.
"That time you were telling the truth." He turned a peevish eye on Merlin. "I suppose I'm to blame this on your mental affliction as well?"
"Or your own, Sire," Merlin said sweetly.
Arthur's reaction was a noise halfway between a bark of laughter and a scoff. "I could pummel you. You're just right here - you wouldn't be able to get away. Only, I don't feel like it." So saying he tucked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, face turned upward still, soaking up the sunshine.
"My lord is merciful," Merlin prodded, stretching out his legs in a mirror of Arthur's sprawl.
"Shut up, Merlin."
When he was absolutely sure that Arthur couldn't see, Merlin waved his hand to release the threads of magic shaping the cloud, relieved to watch it gradually lose its too-perfect structure. He waited, feeling easier the more the mounds of mist resembled nothing in particular. "You should look at it now," he said eventually. "It's a perfect replica of your face."
"Lies," Arthur murmured, and didn't even open his eyes.
Author: vensre
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: Ø
Wordcount: 431
Summary: Of course Arthur already knows about Merlin's hiding spot.
Notes: If you prefer, read it at AOOO.
The ramparts were not built for comfort, that was clear. When the winds were northerly they scraped the top of the walls with particular fierceness, and it was a rare nook where one could hide from the wind without sitting in chill shadows.
Merlin should not have been surprised that Arthur knew them all, but he startled anyway when a sudden shade fell over his upturned face.
"Budge over," said Arthur, and Merlin did in the interest of not being squashed. Arthur settled in, even making himself welcome by warming the left side of Merlin nicely. "A fine day for shirking," Arthur pronounced.
"Are you?" inquired Merlin.
"As if I could. It's not the same when your job isn't your life. You at least get holidays and all."
Merlin snorted and cast a sideways glance at Arthur, who was scanning the sky almost dreamily.
"This nearest cloud looks so like a dragon."
"Oh, erm, it does! Amazing," Merlin said.
"You humour me at the least useful times imaginable, you know that? If you think the bloody cloud looks more like a parsnip or an ass's rear end, you hereby have permission to try to convince me of it."
"No, well, I really do think it looks like a dragon too. At least mostly. Kind of blowing away now."
Arthur scowled up at the bending white clouds. "Why'd it sound like you were lying about it, then? That's a ridiculous thing to lie about."
"I wasn't lying," Merlin said, heart tripping double quick.
"That time you were telling the truth." He turned a peevish eye on Merlin. "I suppose I'm to blame this on your mental affliction as well?"
"Or your own, Sire," Merlin said sweetly.
Arthur's reaction was a noise halfway between a bark of laughter and a scoff. "I could pummel you. You're just right here - you wouldn't be able to get away. Only, I don't feel like it." So saying he tucked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, face turned upward still, soaking up the sunshine.
"My lord is merciful," Merlin prodded, stretching out his legs in a mirror of Arthur's sprawl.
"Shut up, Merlin."
When he was absolutely sure that Arthur couldn't see, Merlin waved his hand to release the threads of magic shaping the cloud, relieved to watch it gradually lose its too-perfect structure. He waited, feeling easier the more the mounds of mist resembled nothing in particular. "You should look at it now," he said eventually. "It's a perfect replica of your face."
"Lies," Arthur murmured, and didn't even open his eyes.