Arthur Pendragon (samecoin_) wrote in brightlightlogs, @ 2010-03-26 14:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | arthur pendragon, morgana |
Who: Arthur and Morgana
What: Something like the icon, with less standing and even less castle
When: One of the various days before Merlin wakes up
Where: Hospital
Rating: Low
Status: Incomplete
Every minute felt like an hour and an hour felt like a year. Arthur swore when he slept all he could see was the color white, bright and pure and sterile behind his eyelids. Morgana came in and out, sometimes when he was asleep, more often when he wasn't and he was grateful that she did. He tried to imagine this scenario if they had been home and how all his reactions would have been tempered because no prince in their right mind waited around for days for the life of a servant to be determined.
Here he was no different from the mother or husband who came in and out every day to visit their sick daughter or son, or ailing wife. Arthur buried his head in his hands, wringing them back through his hair and staring down the corridor. There were visiting hours here and he was learning slowly how to sweet talk his way around them. How one 'nurse' appreciated to be bought hot coffee and a danish in the morning and he could sneak into Merlin's room an hour earlier without interruption.
He flipped the page of the glossy magazine he'd found discarded on one of the tables, trying to make sense of the baffling system of government or why anyone would care whose sex tape was found. Clearly, he was missing something within the pages.