Poor Merlin. Arthur being like “…are you cheating on me?” and Merlin’s thinking “seriously. You had to come to that conclusion? Anything else I could have lied and said yes, but you chose the one thing I can’t let you believe. Now I have to tell you about the magic, you happy?”
A resurrection fic where Arthur breaks something and desperately tries to fix/hide the evidence before Merlin gets home 😆✨
Ohhh I can feel the panic already omg Arthur would have no idea what to do, that would be so fun. I have a feeling it would probably go a little something like... (gonna write a full mini fic for this and probably will end up expanding upon that and posting it on ao3--)
Merlin was at work. It was still weird he didn’t work for Arthur anymore. Arthur wasn’t sure he enjoyed being alone in this new environment just yet, either.
Although, that isn’t to say he didn’t enjoy not having Merlin breathing down his neck making sure he didn’t get into any trouble all the time. Sure, he had a bad habit of well…getting into trouble…in this new age, but that didn’t mean he should be treated like an incompetent child!
If Merlin were here, he’d probably say Arthur was pouting, the King noted in his frustration. He absolutely was not pouting, though! He wasn’t!
Arthur let out a loud sigh, walking down the hall of Merlin’s strange new house. It looked nothing like the castle… It had these weird lights, they were called. Merlin said it was called electricity, not magic but Arthur was still learning about it, and quite frankly not sure he understood the difference.
The once King made his way quickly to the kitchen and began messing around with the strange things that gave him food, too hungry to be wary of the devices inside the room.
Merlin told him not to touch anything until he got back, but surely, he didn’t mean Arthur couldn’t get food for himself. He was...an adult! He knew how to work a micro-micron…A microwave, dammit! He could find manage just fine in a kitchen!
At least—he thought he could.
It was no more than ten minutes later Arthur stood in the middle of the kitchen, wide eyed and a little terrified as Merlin’s favourite (decades old) porcelain bowl laid in pieces on the floor where he dropped it because it was too hot, steaming water pooled all around it.
Well. It was a good thing he didn’t understand this world enough to miss it too terribly, because Merlin was going to kill him.
No, no, maybe not! He could fix this! He could just put it back toget—
The sound of a door outside slamming shut and a loud beep-beep that he recognized as Merlin’s car locking cut off his train of thoughts. Fuck. Merlin was home. He was early!
Arthur began to panic, looking around the room frantically. When he spotted the trash bin, a light-bulb went off and it was like all his problems were solved…
In a rush, Arthur dropped to the ground and began picking up pieces of broken porcelain, wincing at the sting of the hot water all around the pieces. When his hands were too full, he rushed to the bin and dropped the shards in, before hurrying back to the scene and picking up the last little bits to toss away as well. Right as he finished tossing the last shard in the bin, the front door swung open and he heard Merlin shouting for him.
He froze in his place, eyes darting to the mess of water still on the floor, and cursed loudly in his native tongue. Unfortunately, this ended up drawing Merlin straight to his location, as he threw a handful of towels from the drawer onto the hot water pile in a desperate attempt to hide evidence of his crime.
He was too slow, though, and the door to the kitchen creaked open, Merlin’s head popping in.
“Arthur, I’m—what on earth are you doing?” He gasped, his eyes wide. Arthur cringed horribly at his Warlock’s shocked voice.
Arthur, flustered, fumbled around for an answer before finally settling on a weak, “I spilled some water.”
Merlin stared hard at him for a moment, and Arthur was sure the man could see right through him. He wasn’t going to get away with it. He was sure Merlin would call him out on his lie of omission. Until…
“Right, well, I’ve told you that you need to be more careful, but do you ever listen to me? Of course not, bloody prat of a King, set in his way, never listens to me,” Merlin huffed, grumbling the last part to himself more than Arthur. He still heard, though. He may be a prat of a King, but he had damn good hearing!
Arthur didn’t say anything rude back, though, he just laughed and shrugged, before pulling some excuse about being tired and rushing out of the kitchen. Victory tasted sweet, like his old, favourite wine…
He walked back to the living area with a grin, now sure he’d gotten away with his crime. He was good at this, he thought, keeping secrets, fixing messes. No one had to know a thing—Merlin was clueless!
Or so he thought.
“Arthur!” Merlin called from the kitchen about five minutes later, his voice sounding slightly strained. Arthur frowned, was something wrong? Was there another spider in the kitchen?
“What?” He called back. There was a painful moment of silence, then a strangled, distressed noise.
“Why is my favourite, sixteenth century, one of a kind, handmade porcelain bowl in shards in the trash bin?”
Arthur paled.
🖤 Send me an anymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit)
