Merlin: 'What's Cooking, Good Looking?'
“Valiant you’ve been working here for nearly seven months now and in that time not only have you been at best a half-hearted employee, but you’ve earned yourself multiple warnings! You are constantly late; you haven’t bothered to find your way around the kitchen and now... I’m sorry, but I just can’t over-look this!” Merlin sighed and ran a reluctant hand through his hair. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go. This is a huge health-violation and you can be assured that I will be having extremely strong words with Sophie as well.”
“That’s completely unfair! You’re firing me, but not Sophie?!”
“I’m not firing Sophie because other than what you two did on the bar, she has an unblemished record and is actually a decent waitress. Also - I’d like you to apologise to Lance. He has to work at that bar and I think you gave the poor bloke a fright when he walked in on the two of you.”
Valiant’s face was becoming redder with every word said, but Merlin didn’t think that it was from embarrassment so much as it was anger. He decided to wind up their unpleasant talk.
“I’m sorry Valiant, but I just don’t think that you are cut out to be a kitchenhand.”
“That’s bullshit! You’re being stupid - we’re understaffed already. You can’t afford to lose me!”
Merlin sighed, trying to reign in his growing annoyance.
“You don’t need to tell me that we are already understaffed, Valiant - I’ve been working double shifts for the last four months, as you well know. But I’m not changing my mind. I would rather have to work more hours than I already do than for my Uncle’s restaurant to be shut down because of your thoughtlessness. I’ve had to call the health inspectors as per regulations and they’re sending someone in next week to give us a thorough going over. You can finish off this weekend and then I want you gone. I’m sorry.”
Merlin turned away from the larger man and walked back into the kitchen, the door swinging behind him with a squeak just as there was a loud slam from the restaurant’s front entrance. Valiant apparently wasn’t seeing out the weekend.
Merlin walked further into the quiet kitchen to see Gwen and Lance standing very casually next to the window that opened out into the sitting area that Merlin had just come from, chatting very obviously with each other and determinedly not looking at their friend and employer.
Made for each other, thought Merlin, clearing his throat and holding back a laugh as his engaged friends both feigned surprise at his sudden entrance.
“Afternoon Mr Emrys!” Lance greeted warmly, his eyes flicking to look out the window and Merlin shook his head, trying not to smile.
“Merlin, Lance. My name is Merlin, and as I’ve been saying since you started - you can use it at work.”
Lance shrugged bashfully and Gwen stepped forward slightly, her hand slipping unconsciously into her fiancé’s for reassurance.
“Merlin... did you... I mean, not that it’s any of my business, well it sort of it because I work with him and he’s just awful - not that I think you shouldn’t have hired him but really he’s a pig and-”
Merlin raised a hand and Gwen cut off, mid-ramble.
“Yes Gwen I did fire Valiant, and before either of you ask - no I will not be firing Sophie. Other than you Gwen, she’s our best waitress. Not to mention she works full time. Will’s great, but he’s pretty casual and unpredictable when it comes to his hours. Valiant wasn’t lying when he said we were understaffed...” Merlin sighed heavily, feeling drained.
It had been four months since Merlin’s Uncle Gaius had been hospitalised with a stroke and just less than four months since Merlin had brought him home from the hospital and moved in with him. The two shared a small apartment above Gaius’ restaurant Avalon, which Merlin had been working at since he had left high-school, doing his training to become a chef in his off hours until he had developed his skill enough to move up in the kitchen to the position of executive chef. That had been a few months before Gaius’ stroke and now he was working as not only head chef, but restaurant manager as well. When he wasn’t cooking or instructing his latest apprentice (currently a quiet, kind, but ultimately unsure college student called Freya) he was trying to find much needed staff and the money to pay them.
Merlin was wrenched from his musings by Lance’s warm hand clapping him on the shoulder.
“It’s ok Merlin. Everything will work out - just you wait and see.”
Merlin allowed a smile at his friend’s optimism, but did not voice the searing doubt that filled him. Instead, he nodded and began to shoo his two friends back to their posts - it was nearly time for them to open for lunch.
Merlin groaned as he realised that with Valiant gone he would have to try and find a replacement. Maybe Will could come in early? Merlin brought out his books and waited for when he was needed to cook the first meals of what already promised to be a very long day.
~
Merlin hadn’t been wrong when he’d thought his day was going to be long. What he hadn’t realised was that it was going to get a hell of a lot worse. Will couldn’t come in, it was his friend’s birthday and Merlin couldn’t really fault him that but God - did he want to. Because if Will had been serving table seven and not Gwen, if Valiant had just stayed for the week before buggering off in a huff, if Sophie had turned up on time and if Freya actually managed to get a single dish right... well then maybe his night might not have gone so awfully.
As it was...
Merlin was rushing through meals, trying to finish them as the orders for more came in. They weren’t actually all that busy, but it was a Friday evening, they were shorthanded and it just seemed to Merlin that someone in heaven had decided he needed to work until he was close to tears.
So it was of course, almost no surprise when Sophie all but ran into the kitchen, eyes wide as she blurted out “I just sat a guy under the name Pendragon.”
Merlin’s out of character curse was heard easily as the kitchen fell into a brief silence.
Gwen had frozen in picking up her meals, Sophie’s eyes were still wide and Freya was looking between them all in quiet confusion as she threw together a side-salad.
Merlin decided that yes, someone in heaven definitely hated him.
Pendragon.
Uther freakin’ Pendragon was here.
Perhaps the most formidable food-critic in the trade, Pendragon was known for being deadly accurate and unrelenting in his silver-tongued critique. If he didn’t like your food, then it was made known, bluntly, harshly and worst of all - publicly. If Uther Pendragon gave a bad review, then you might as well clear out the fridge and pantry, because more than likely, you wouldn’t be getting many customers from then on.
Merlin beat down his panic and thought quickly, stirring the soup he had been peering into before Sophie’s announcement. He turned back to the girls, who were staring at him, clearly nervous with this new development. Gwen looked calmer than Sophie, whose eyes were still wide, and so he made a snap decision.
“Sophie, take Gwen’s meals to table four. Gwen, I want you to serve Mr. Pendragon. Be your most charming, most polite and for the love of all that is holy, please try not to ramble, ok hun?”
The two girls nodded and Sophie shot Merlin a grateful look as she took Gwen’s meals from her, and led the curly-haired girl to the kitchen door.
“He’s there, at table seven. Good luck.”
Gwen visibly steeled herself, before plastering on the gentle smile that had gotten Merlin through more than one crappy day, and pushed through the swinging door.
Merlin turned back to the oven, looking out the window to his left and watching Gwen approach table seven. He tried to ignore the feeling of impending doom, and split his focus between the food he was cooking and his friend.
~
When Gwen came back in, grinning cheerfully a few minutes later, Merlin shot her a questioning look.
“He’s not Uther Pendragon!” she exclaimed happily and Merlin sagged in relief.
“Then who is it?” Freya asked quietly, and Gwen smiled.
“It’s his son - Arthur.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow at her flushed cheeks.
“You seem happy about this. Not that I’m not delighted it’s not the Dragon himself; but still - even baby dragons have fangs Gwen.”
Gwen rolled her eyes as she put up Arthur’s order, ignoring Merlin’s comment.
“He wants the Thai Beef Salad with a glass of dry Riesling thanks.”
Merlin nodded and started on the meal, waiting until Gwen had left before leaning to ask through the window to the bar on the other side of the wall.
“You hear that Lance?”
“Yes I bloody well did. One Dry Riesling for the creep.”
“Creep?” Merlin asked, intrigued by the frustration and anger in his usually calm friend’s voice.
“Look.” Lance nodded his head towards table seven, and Merlin raised his eyebrows.
An extremely good-looking blond man was lounging there, his eyes following Gwen as she walked from table to table, refilling drinks and the like. When she finally approached his table, the man - Arthur Pendragon, Merlin realised - sat up straight and gave her a shining smile that curved into a smirk at the corners. Gwen stopped and asked him a question, and her cheeks flushed at his manner. With a jolt, Merlin realised that he was flirting with Gwen.
“Umm...”
“Yeah. Told you he was a creep.”
“He probably just hasn’t seen her ring.”
“She doesn’t wear it at work since that time she lost it in that dough you had her kneed.”
Merlin winced at the memory, and Lance glanced at him through the window.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like Gwen would do anything... It just annoys me, you know?”
Merlin nodded, though really he didn’t know, and they both turned back to what they were meant to be doing.
~
Each time Gwen came into the kitchen after that, Merlin tried not to comment on how her face was pretty flushed, knowing she’d blame the fast pace she and Sophie had to keep up.
It possibly was to blame.
But then Merlin would hear a frustrated growl from through the window, and he didn’t think that Lance was getting that annoyed over opening a bottle of wine.
Merlin moved Pendragon’s meal up his list and finished it quickly and well. If he was trying to get him out of his restaurant, well then - he was just helping a friend out.
But no more than five minutes after Gwen took out Pendragon's meal, did she bring it back.
“Merlin he can’t eat this.”
Merlin tried not to let his jaw drop as he gave the Thai Beef Salad a quick going over. It was fine - still hot, fresh greens, tomato, mushroom and cucumber cut, shredded and arranged perfectly underneath the juicy beef...
“Why not?”
Gwen grimaced apologetically.
“I... I may have forgotten to tell you to skip the mushroom... he’s kind of... allergic.”
Merlin groaned, running a hand over his face.
“Dammit Gwen, how could you just ‘forget’ something like that? You’re better than this!”
“I’m sorry, I’m just distracted! I- I mean, I’m worried,” she quickly corrected. “Like you said - baby dragon still has fangs and all that... I’ll just go check and see if he still wants the same thing, shall I?”
“He can’t - our last lot went out about fifteen minutes ago Gwen - you served it!”
“Oh. Well I’ll just go take his order again, shall I?”
Merlin risked a glance out the window, took in the emptying tables and Lance’s hunched shoulders and shook his head.
“No, Gwen you stay here and keep an eye on this soup - don’t let it boil and keep stirring it, right from the bottom.”
Gwen frowned slightly, confused at the change in pace, but did as she was told, taking the large wooden spoon from Merlin’s hand as he walked past her and out into the all but empty restaurant. It was nearing nine-thirty, and the few remaining people were all munching their way through desserts. Well, all except for the blonde man at table seven. Merlin made his way over, noting that the man was once again slouching slightly and that his eyes were downcast, the reason for this becoming apparent as Merlin saw the flash of a cell phone as he drew near.
“Excuse me, Mr Pendragon?” Merlin asked politely when he didn’t seem to be noticed, and light blue eyes were raised up from the cell and settled on his face.
“Mr Pendragon would be my father - my name’s Arthur,” the man said, sitting up straighter as Merlin nodded.
“Right. Arthur. My name is Merlin Emrys, and I just wanted to talk with you for a moment, if that’s alright with you?”
Arthur looked confused but nodded to the empty seat opposite him, which Merlin gratefully took, sinking into it tiredly.
“First of all, I wanted to apologise for any wrong impressions that Gwen may have made this evening - I believe it was partly my fault.”
Arthur’s clear blue eyes were suspicious.
“What do you mean ‘wrong impressions’?”
“When we heard that we would be serving a Pendragon, we automatically assumed it would be your father, so I told Gwen to be as polite and charming as she could.”
“She was delightful, but I don’t see-”
“Gwen is engaged.” Merlin stated bluntly, and Arthur’s eyebrows rose in disbelief.
“What?”
“She doesn’t wear her ring on her finger because she nearly baked it into some bread she was making for me a few months ago - she and her fiancé Lance nearly had a fit trying to find it... That’s Lance over there - the bartender.”
Arthur’s face cleared some.
“Aaah! I wondered why he’d been giving me the stink eye all evening!”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Lance doesn’t really like it when strange men practically throw themselves at his fiancé...”
“Excuse me?”
“Well - I mean... you kind of were. I didn’t see all that much from the kitchen, but from what I did see it was quite obvious what you were doing...”
“And just what was that, Emrys?”
“You were pretty much harassing Gwen - if she wasn’t so nice, I imagine you would have been slapped. God, you’re lucky I didn’t let Sophie serve you!”
Arthur opened his mouth, frowning, but Merlin cut over his argument.
“But anyway, other than that, I’ve also come to give my personal apologies for the mix-up with your meal this evening.”
Arthur’s face darkened and he scowled at Merlin.
“I should bloody well think so! One bite of those mushrooms and you would have had a bit more than a ‘mix-up’ on your hands Emrys.”
Merlin felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord at the tone the man was using.
“Yes, Gwen explained to me, hence why I am apologising. Thankfully, you didn’t eat any of the mushrooms so it’s not really a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? I could have died! Listen Emrys I don’t know who you think you are, lecturing me on how to treat women and dismissing this ‘mix-up’ of yours, but I think I’d like to talk to your manager!”
Merlin huffed out a mirthless laugh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I am the manager.”
Pendragon’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.
“No, you’re the chef... see that hat those gigantic ears of yours are holding up? Good grief, no wonder this place is a shambles if you don’t even know your own position!”
Merlin tried to stop his glare, he really did - but this man was the cherry on top of a shitty day and his patience had been running thin already.
“How very observant of you. Yes, I am the head-chef but I am also the manager.”
“See now, I know for a fact that you’re lying because my Father’s good friend Gaius owns and manages this restaurant!” Pendragon sneered at him and Merlin’s control snapped.
“If your Father is such good friends with my Uncle, then he obviously knows that Gaius had a stroke a few months back and is now re-learning to walk whilst I work my arse off trying to pay the bills and the debts on this damned place!”
Merlin realised he had shouted only after there was a ringing silence and he quickly looked around, realising quickly and with no amount of relief that Pendragon was the only customer left in the restaurant. He could hear that the kitchen had gone silent though, and Lance was drying glasses studiously with his back turned at the bar, his shoulders hunched once more.
Pendragon had also gone silent, was starring at him with a strange emotion on his face, which Merlin soon recognised as pity and worry.
“Gaius had a stroke?”
“What’s it to you?” Merlin snapped as he stood up from the table, moving to stalk back into the kitchen. He heard the scrapping of a chair and then a hand on his arm turning him back around. It seemed he and Pendragon realised at the same instant that Merlin was the taller of the two, because Arthur scowled slightly and Merlin repressed a smirk. The blonde quickly got back to the previous statement however and he seemed genuine in his concern.
“Gaius used to be our chef... I grew up with him making me eat my vegetables.”
Merlin snorted.
“Join the club.”
Arthur grinned then and Merlin had to force himself to remember that this man was incredibly arrogant and rude. And yet, he found himself resignedly apologising once again.
“I really am sorry about the whole mushroom thing. It looks like the kitchen’s closed, but come in another time and the meal is on the house.”
Arthur frowned slightly, but nodded before gathering his things and leaving.
Merlin sighed as he locked the door behind the blonde, thinking that it was unlikely that a Pendragon would ever again set foot in Avalon.
He was wrong.