Work Text:
Merlin was in the cells.
Again.
He was starting to think he should bring some of his things down here. Set up a nice, comfy bed in the corner, some of his books in the other.
The place might actually look a bit homey.
“Merlin.”
Sighing, he looked up at the prat responsible for him being in the cell.
“Arthur,” he replied, glaring at the Prince.
“You realize why you’re down here, don’t you?” Arthur asked, stern look on his face.
“I think you’re over-reacting, Arthur,” Merlin replied.
In fact he was certain he was. What he had done was nothing compared to other things he’d done.
“I could have put you in the stocks instead,” Arthur responded, raising an eyebrow.
“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me’?” Merlin asked, narrowing his eyes at the way Arthur’s mouth twitched.
“Yes,” Arthur replied. “But you need to start paying me some respect, Merlin.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes.
“You called me fat!” Arthur replied.
“No,” Merlin said. “I said that I was stopping you from getting fat. And you’re not, so therefore my plans are working.”
“Your plans of stealing my food?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow in question again.
“Exactly,” Merlin replied triumphantly.
“I’m not fat,” Arthur mumbled, glaring at him.
Merlin couldn’t help but smile, loving that he was one of the only people who could tease Arthur and get away with it.
Well … sometimes.
He grinned as the cell door swung open, Arthur giving him one last glare, which was ruined by the way his mouth turned up at the corners, before he walked off.
Smile widening, Merlin followed after him.
Sometimes being Arthur’s manservant was fun.