Feast or Famine part 2
Author: 
archaeologist_d
Title: Feast or Famine part 2
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana
Summary: Merlin was horrified at the utter waste of food fights
Warnings: none
Word Count: 867
Camelot drabble Prompt 527: feast
Author’s notes: based on that one line about food fights in season 1, episode 4
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
-------------------
Merlin tensed, waiting for the food fight to begin. Arthur hadn’t said anything to Merlin about what he’d told him a few days back, just kept doing the annoying things Merlin had to put up with, ordering him around, dropping clothes on the floor and expecting him to pick them up – would it kill Arthur to put things away or just not leave them on the bloody floor? -, finalising that speech that Arthur kept making Merlin rewrite over and over again. At least, Arthur hadn’t made Merlin muck out the stables this time.
Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin could see Morgana with a few tomatoes hidden in her hand, at the ready for the start of it. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were things stuck into the fruit, just to make them splat better or maybe dye inside to colour Arthur’s face blue or something when she threw it at him.
Gwen was standing behind her, her face a little annoyed – which for Gwen was a huge deal. He’d talked to Gwen after his argument with Arthur and she’d told him that it was tradition to have food fights. That it wasn’t just for fun, but an expression of how rich Camelot was that they could afford to waste such things as complicated desserts and rare foodstuffs. That sometimes the servants would find things to eat after or send them to their families, but it was not common. Mostly the mess just went to the pigs and that was that.
As Arthur stood, his hand raised for silence, Merlin could feel the anticipation around the room climbing. Some of the knights were standing, too, their hands hidden from view, and the servants all took a step back, trying to get out of the way of what was to come.
But then it didn’t.
“On this night, usually we honour the richness and excitement living in Camelot brings. The wealth flowing from the crown and those who support us. Cakes and exotic foodstuffs, wines from abroad, the intricate desserts, they all show that Camelot is the finest of the Five Kingdoms, the wealthiest, the one most worthy of leading our people into greater prosperity,” Arthur said, looking around.
There was murmuring in the back, people looking confused, but Arthur ignored them all. Instead, he said, “But I have been reminded that Camelot is more than just noble families or a stone citadel that sits on a hill. We are more than just knights on horses and fine jewels.
Camelot’s people live in the lower town, too, in far villages, in cottages nestled in deep woods, and they are miners and farmers, weavers and smiths. Mothers and fathers and children, the future of us all.”
Gwen looked in Merlin’s direction, her face puzzled. Even Morgana was growing restless, but he did see her putting the tomatoes down as she stared at Arthur.
“And those people, the ones we cherish, the ones we are sworn to protect, deserve to live a life without famine, without starvation. We cannot waste our riches in foolish battles, using food with abandon, all for a bit of fun,” Arthur said. “I have discussed this at length with the king. The leftovers from each feast will go to the poor and less fortunate. And instead, we will have a tourney tomorrow and battle each other with swords instead of desserts.”
One of the younger knights was muttering to his companions, picking up a honey cake with his hand, looking ready to throw it and start the chaos without Arthur’s permission.
Arthur called out, “Sir Modrant, I see that you are excited to begin.” Looking a bit guilty, the kid dropped the cake and wiped his hand on his velvet doublet. “Tomorrow, you will face me, and we’ll see what excitement can bring.”
The other knights snickered a little, probably just glad it wasn’t them facing Arthur in the morning.
“For now, enjoy what you have and when we are done, the servants will distribute the remains to those in need.” With that, Arthur raised his glass. “For the love of Camelot.”
There was a cheer, not rousing – Merlin thought some of them looked a bit put-out about it, but they all repeated, “For the love of Camelot.”
And that was that.
No food fight. It was a miracle.
-----------------
As Merlin scurried around Arthur’s room, helping him get ready for bed, Arthur grumbled, “Well, I’ll have to beat some of them bloody tomorrow.”
“Arthur, thank you, it was a good thing you did. I know how much you enjoy throwing things,” Merlin said, grinning as he turned down the bedcover. “I’m glad you listened to me for once.”
Grunting a little as he got into bed, Arthur said, “You? I never listen to you, you idiot. Our accountants were nattering on about expense. I was doing it for Camelot. Keeping our coffers full. Cutting down on waste.”
“Of course, sire. Whatever you say.” But Merlin couldn’t help smiling. Arthur would never admit to it, but it didn’t matter. He had listened.
Sometimes Arthur was such a condescending arse but sometimes, sometimes, he was wonderful. And Merlin loved him for it.
archaeologist_dTitle: Feast or Famine part 2
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana
Summary: Merlin was horrified at the utter waste of food fights
Warnings: none
Word Count: 867
Camelot drabble Prompt 527: feast
Author’s notes: based on that one line about food fights in season 1, episode 4
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
-------------------
Merlin tensed, waiting for the food fight to begin. Arthur hadn’t said anything to Merlin about what he’d told him a few days back, just kept doing the annoying things Merlin had to put up with, ordering him around, dropping clothes on the floor and expecting him to pick them up – would it kill Arthur to put things away or just not leave them on the bloody floor? -, finalising that speech that Arthur kept making Merlin rewrite over and over again. At least, Arthur hadn’t made Merlin muck out the stables this time.
Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin could see Morgana with a few tomatoes hidden in her hand, at the ready for the start of it. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were things stuck into the fruit, just to make them splat better or maybe dye inside to colour Arthur’s face blue or something when she threw it at him.
Gwen was standing behind her, her face a little annoyed – which for Gwen was a huge deal. He’d talked to Gwen after his argument with Arthur and she’d told him that it was tradition to have food fights. That it wasn’t just for fun, but an expression of how rich Camelot was that they could afford to waste such things as complicated desserts and rare foodstuffs. That sometimes the servants would find things to eat after or send them to their families, but it was not common. Mostly the mess just went to the pigs and that was that.
As Arthur stood, his hand raised for silence, Merlin could feel the anticipation around the room climbing. Some of the knights were standing, too, their hands hidden from view, and the servants all took a step back, trying to get out of the way of what was to come.
But then it didn’t.
“On this night, usually we honour the richness and excitement living in Camelot brings. The wealth flowing from the crown and those who support us. Cakes and exotic foodstuffs, wines from abroad, the intricate desserts, they all show that Camelot is the finest of the Five Kingdoms, the wealthiest, the one most worthy of leading our people into greater prosperity,” Arthur said, looking around.
There was murmuring in the back, people looking confused, but Arthur ignored them all. Instead, he said, “But I have been reminded that Camelot is more than just noble families or a stone citadel that sits on a hill. We are more than just knights on horses and fine jewels.
Camelot’s people live in the lower town, too, in far villages, in cottages nestled in deep woods, and they are miners and farmers, weavers and smiths. Mothers and fathers and children, the future of us all.”
Gwen looked in Merlin’s direction, her face puzzled. Even Morgana was growing restless, but he did see her putting the tomatoes down as she stared at Arthur.
“And those people, the ones we cherish, the ones we are sworn to protect, deserve to live a life without famine, without starvation. We cannot waste our riches in foolish battles, using food with abandon, all for a bit of fun,” Arthur said. “I have discussed this at length with the king. The leftovers from each feast will go to the poor and less fortunate. And instead, we will have a tourney tomorrow and battle each other with swords instead of desserts.”
One of the younger knights was muttering to his companions, picking up a honey cake with his hand, looking ready to throw it and start the chaos without Arthur’s permission.
Arthur called out, “Sir Modrant, I see that you are excited to begin.” Looking a bit guilty, the kid dropped the cake and wiped his hand on his velvet doublet. “Tomorrow, you will face me, and we’ll see what excitement can bring.”
The other knights snickered a little, probably just glad it wasn’t them facing Arthur in the morning.
“For now, enjoy what you have and when we are done, the servants will distribute the remains to those in need.” With that, Arthur raised his glass. “For the love of Camelot.”
There was a cheer, not rousing – Merlin thought some of them looked a bit put-out about it, but they all repeated, “For the love of Camelot.”
And that was that.
No food fight. It was a miracle.
-----------------
As Merlin scurried around Arthur’s room, helping him get ready for bed, Arthur grumbled, “Well, I’ll have to beat some of them bloody tomorrow.”
“Arthur, thank you, it was a good thing you did. I know how much you enjoy throwing things,” Merlin said, grinning as he turned down the bedcover. “I’m glad you listened to me for once.”
Grunting a little as he got into bed, Arthur said, “You? I never listen to you, you idiot. Our accountants were nattering on about expense. I was doing it for Camelot. Keeping our coffers full. Cutting down on waste.”
“Of course, sire. Whatever you say.” But Merlin couldn’t help smiling. Arthur would never admit to it, but it didn’t matter. He had listened.
Sometimes Arthur was such a condescending arse but sometimes, sometimes, he was wonderful. And Merlin loved him for it.