InsaneJournal

who: arthur and merlin
what: making up?
when: that evening
where: arthur's room


Peanut butter and scraps of food he'd left Arthur before going into his impromptu retreat. That was all that was left of the food in Arthur's kitchen. The prince would never survive more then a few weeks if Merlin was sent back to Camelot before him. Never mind demons and sorcery threatening his life, it would be his own inability to take care of his own basic needs. Arthur could go out and kill his own meat, but when it came time to clean and cook it, and find some kind of vegetable to have with it he'd be totally useless.

Merlin sighed, setting the brown paper bags in either arm on the counter, and set to putting the food away. Much of it was food that Arthur could easily manage himself; apples, oranges, bananas, cereal, carrots, bread, sliced cold meats, and cheese. Then there were a few things that Merlin figured he would end up coming over to cook for the prince in the evenings. Assuming Gwen wasn't already tending to things like that for him, no doubt she was much better at it.

He glanced at the time, yawning briefly, and pulled out a large plastic container containing beef and vegetable soup he'd helped make at work to reheat on the stove. (It still amazed him, but now he was far too tired to be interested beyond not burning himself) He'd returned to work today early in the morning when he'd found the nightmares had stopped, he hadn't woken to things being magically altered around him on accident in his sleep, and with general control over his magic again. The overwhelming feeling of fear had some how lifted the night before.

Of course, that didn't mean he was in fantastic shape again. After weeks of nightmares, and the unwilling use of his magic several times a day -- then returning to work for a good portion of the day...The dark circles under his eyes served as some indication of how tired he was. Still, he needed to make it up to Arthur for what he'd put him through. Despite his promise, he had lied to him at the start out of fear of what Arthur would think of him if he couldn't control his magic. He'd hidden away, and refused to see him. They'd barely spoken in his time away, and when they did it wasn't the best of conversations -- they only further fueled Merlin's worries. As it was, he half expected Arthur to have been here, to be fed up with him, and slam the door in his face. Of course, now he'd discovered that instead the prince would have taken the food first -- then thrown him out.

Merlin had set dinner out on the table for Arthur, and had started cleaning up the room when he finally heard the door open, doing his best to seem as casual as possible.