Losing My Favourite Game; Merlin
Title: Losing My Favourite Game
Author: mydoctortennant
Pairing/s: Arthur/Gwen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Merlin, unfortunately, doesn’t belong to me… maybe one day!
Dedication: imigination for picking 17. Play as her prompt.
Summary: No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t better him.
Notes: This comes to you un-beta'd so if there are spelling mistakes or whatnot they are all my own, and if you want to point things out to me, go ahead XD
My Merlin Prompt Table
“Twenty nine,” Arthur said to me as he passed me in the corridor early this morning.
“Twenty nine?”
“Twenty nine,” I felt my jaw drop, and I very nearly dropping the laundry basket I was carrying full of the Lady Morgana’s linens, “Careful, Guinevere,” he said, taking the basket from me, allowing me to readjust my grasp, “Don’t want to create more work for yourself, now do you?”
“Thank you, my lord,” he rolled his eyes at me, but I curtseyed anyway, couldn’t have anybody asking questions. Not that there is anything to ask questions about, but I am only a handmaiden, I can not be seen to be disrespectful to the future King, “Twenty nine?” he smirked and nodded before he sauntered off to wherever it was he was headed.
There was no way he had gotten twenty nine. No way. It wasn’t possible. I mean, I’m not calling the prince in capable, but unless he was talking to Merlin for three hors straight I do not understand how he got twenty nine. I was never going to beat that. I rarely got to speak to him for more than five minutes and the most I had ever managed when five.
One a minute, not too bad.
I guess Arthur would have just discussed the lasted ‘sorcerer’ threat with him and in fifteen minutes he would have gotten there.
“Good morning, Merlin,” I chimed as I saw him heading out of the kitchen with Arthur’s breakfast. A plate full of cheese and ham.
“Hi Gwen,” he mumbled back, barely awake, not ready for work at any rate.
“Have you heard the latest news?” I asked him, “They say that Uther has accused one of the city folk of sorcery,” one, “I mean, that’s just preposterous isn’t it, Merlin? He amount of times he has scoured the city you’d have thought he would have caught all the sorcerers,” two, “by now.”
He shrugged, “Yeah, maybe.”
“I mean, I know he has had your chambers searched a million times and he still doesn’t know you’re a sorcerer,” three, “but that doesn’t mean he won’t ever find out about it. I guess you have to keep your sorcery,” four, “well hidden?”
“Yeah. And it’s always so much easier when you talk about it so openly, Gwen.”
“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk about you being a sorcerer,” five, “I think I ought to stop talking.”
Damn.
“I ought to be taking Arthur his breakfast,” he went to move past me, when suddenly an idea struck.
“Merlin!”
“Gwen?”
“Would you mind helping me with Morgana’s linens, I would do them myself but I have so many other things I have to be doing today.”
“And I have time to do them in between polishing Arthur’s armour and shining his boots?”
“Well, I was hoping, maybe, you could use sorcery,” six, personal best, “I wouldn’t ask but-“
“Give them here,” he smiled at me, placing Arthur’s plate of food on top of the linen pile in the basket and taking it from me, “Now you may do whatever it is you need to do.”
“Thank you, Merlin,” I guess six was going to have to do. I couldn’t do any better without giving the game away. Or looking completely insane.
“Have a good day.”
“You too, Merlin.”
“Six.”
“Six?”
Six.”
“That all?”
“I get five minutes with him, you get practically all day,” I whispered, not wanting to alert any passer-by to our place tucked into an alcove.
“Are you saying I am a cheat?”
“No, my lord,” I looked away from him, trying to keep my composure.
“So you admit defeat?”
“No my lord.”
“You will never beat twenty nine.”
“I can try.”
“Yes you can, but you will not beat me.”
“Why is that? Because you are the prince?”
“Because I get to spend all day with him, and you only get five minutes,” he smirked. I shook my head at him, ready to leave him standing in the alcove all on his own. But he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back, “Tell me, I win,” I shook my head, “Tell me I’m better than you,” again I shook my head.”
“I have a new game,” I said, he looked at me intrigued, “How many times can you get Prince Arthur to stroke his own ego. I might pose it to Merlin.”
“He would beat you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he gets to spend most of the day with me and you only five minutes.”
“You forget something, sire,” I said, it was my turn to smirk at him, “You would let me win,” he laughed and shook his head, dipping slightly to capture my lips in a quick kiss. It was over as quickly as it had begun and he walked off. He was to attend dinner with his father tonight, as was my lady. Myself and Merlin would be there, standing, waiting on them, and waiting to go home.
I caught Merlin on his way to the hall, and smiled to myself, “Merlin. I have an idea.”
Author: mydoctortennant
Pairing/s: Arthur/Gwen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Merlin, unfortunately, doesn’t belong to me… maybe one day!
Dedication: imigination for picking 17. Play as her prompt.
Summary: No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t better him.
Notes: This comes to you un-beta'd so if there are spelling mistakes or whatnot they are all my own, and if you want to point things out to me, go ahead XD
My Merlin Prompt Table
“Twenty nine,” Arthur said to me as he passed me in the corridor early this morning.
“Twenty nine?”
“Twenty nine,” I felt my jaw drop, and I very nearly dropping the laundry basket I was carrying full of the Lady Morgana’s linens, “Careful, Guinevere,” he said, taking the basket from me, allowing me to readjust my grasp, “Don’t want to create more work for yourself, now do you?”
“Thank you, my lord,” he rolled his eyes at me, but I curtseyed anyway, couldn’t have anybody asking questions. Not that there is anything to ask questions about, but I am only a handmaiden, I can not be seen to be disrespectful to the future King, “Twenty nine?” he smirked and nodded before he sauntered off to wherever it was he was headed.
There was no way he had gotten twenty nine. No way. It wasn’t possible. I mean, I’m not calling the prince in capable, but unless he was talking to Merlin for three hors straight I do not understand how he got twenty nine. I was never going to beat that. I rarely got to speak to him for more than five minutes and the most I had ever managed when five.
One a minute, not too bad.
I guess Arthur would have just discussed the lasted ‘sorcerer’ threat with him and in fifteen minutes he would have gotten there.
“Good morning, Merlin,” I chimed as I saw him heading out of the kitchen with Arthur’s breakfast. A plate full of cheese and ham.
“Hi Gwen,” he mumbled back, barely awake, not ready for work at any rate.
“Have you heard the latest news?” I asked him, “They say that Uther has accused one of the city folk of sorcery,” one, “I mean, that’s just preposterous isn’t it, Merlin? He amount of times he has scoured the city you’d have thought he would have caught all the sorcerers,” two, “by now.”
He shrugged, “Yeah, maybe.”
“I mean, I know he has had your chambers searched a million times and he still doesn’t know you’re a sorcerer,” three, “but that doesn’t mean he won’t ever find out about it. I guess you have to keep your sorcery,” four, “well hidden?”
“Yeah. And it’s always so much easier when you talk about it so openly, Gwen.”
“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to talk about you being a sorcerer,” five, “I think I ought to stop talking.”
Damn.
“I ought to be taking Arthur his breakfast,” he went to move past me, when suddenly an idea struck.
“Merlin!”
“Gwen?”
“Would you mind helping me with Morgana’s linens, I would do them myself but I have so many other things I have to be doing today.”
“And I have time to do them in between polishing Arthur’s armour and shining his boots?”
“Well, I was hoping, maybe, you could use sorcery,” six, personal best, “I wouldn’t ask but-“
“Give them here,” he smiled at me, placing Arthur’s plate of food on top of the linen pile in the basket and taking it from me, “Now you may do whatever it is you need to do.”
“Thank you, Merlin,” I guess six was going to have to do. I couldn’t do any better without giving the game away. Or looking completely insane.
“Have a good day.”
“You too, Merlin.”
“Six.”
“Six?”
Six.”
“That all?”
“I get five minutes with him, you get practically all day,” I whispered, not wanting to alert any passer-by to our place tucked into an alcove.
“Are you saying I am a cheat?”
“No, my lord,” I looked away from him, trying to keep my composure.
“So you admit defeat?”
“No my lord.”
“You will never beat twenty nine.”
“I can try.”
“Yes you can, but you will not beat me.”
“Why is that? Because you are the prince?”
“Because I get to spend all day with him, and you only get five minutes,” he smirked. I shook my head at him, ready to leave him standing in the alcove all on his own. But he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back, “Tell me, I win,” I shook my head, “Tell me I’m better than you,” again I shook my head.”
“I have a new game,” I said, he looked at me intrigued, “How many times can you get Prince Arthur to stroke his own ego. I might pose it to Merlin.”
“He would beat you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he gets to spend most of the day with me and you only five minutes.”
“You forget something, sire,” I said, it was my turn to smirk at him, “You would let me win,” he laughed and shook his head, dipping slightly to capture my lips in a quick kiss. It was over as quickly as it had begun and he walked off. He was to attend dinner with his father tonight, as was my lady. Myself and Merlin would be there, standing, waiting on them, and waiting to go home.
I caught Merlin on his way to the hall, and smiled to myself, “Merlin. I have an idea.”