Merlin's magic (Oneshots)

Regent 4

Merlin.

The first thought that entered Arthur's mind, when he woke up in the past, was actually normal, all things considered.
Mostly, because Merlin was often the first thing he thought of in the early hours of the day.

So it was only reasonable that the only thing he would find odd, on this particular day, was the disturbing realization that Merlin was not there..

What was slightly alarming, yet not entirely unfamiliar, was the thought process that followed immediately after:

Where is Merlin?
Merlin is late.
Where is my breakfast?

Upon that came the realization that he was waking up half naked.
By half naked, he was referring to the ripped clothes covering the sheets around him, while only pieces of fabric were still attached to his ankles and stretched beyond their intended usage.

His next thought process w as, given the circumstances, also among a normal level for him.

Merlin will never let me live this down.
I can't have gained this much weight in one night!

Only after that, did his mind offer him the more logical idea, that perhaps, he shouldn't fit into children's clothes in the first place.

Groggily, Arthur sat himself up. The fabric was tight where it remained stuck. Tight enough that it hurt and cut off his blood circulation in various places.
Grunting, Arthur used his tired arms and ripped the rest of the fabric off, and tossed the shreds to the other side of the bed. They landed there ungracefully and accepting of their fate.

Arthur took a moment to get used to being awake. He groaned and muttered, as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed and felt the cold floor with his feet.
Birds were chirping in the distance, while his window remained half open to let in the sound and the cold air.
Other than that, his room looked exactly as it had yesterday, when he went to bed.

For him it was the same bed, the same sheets, the same table and the same rusty hearth that had bidden him goodnight.

Therefore he had no reason to question the inner specific functions of time.

And yes, all his interior furniture was still the same as it had been, when he was six years old. The furniture was perfectly functional , extremely expensive and of a master's craft. Why not keep them into adulthood?

Honestly, at this point the maximum of Arthur's confusion went into the shredded clothes.
Which his mind could easily find a logical origin for:
His best friend tended to prank him sometimes.

'Seriously, where is he?', Arthur's mind said.

Arthur sighed and guessed that the men either let Arthur wait for him on purpose, or he had been out in the tavern last night, again.
Perhaps he and Gwaine had decided to do whatever this was supposed to make him think.
They often collaborated on their schemes.
One time, Arthur had woken up with chicken in his room. They had picked so many holes in his sheets that Merlin had to throw them away later.

So, Arthur's first instinct was to simply ignore the clothing situation and decided to ridicule Merlin about it later.
His next thought was to get himself clothes that fit.

Since he was already up before his servant, he might as well go and make a point that he was absolutely capable of dressing himself, no matter what Merlin thought and said!
The king stretched himself, got up, uncaring of his very naked appearance, since he happened to be in his own rooms, and opened the wardrobe.
Mindlessly, he grabbed for the first shirt he could reach.

Then he was forced to pause.

Slowly, he held out the small shirt in front of him, face twisting into confusion.
And then another, rather normal thought entered his mind and left his mouth with unhindered annoyance:

"That bastard!"

Arthur knew what must have happened.
At least, he was convinced that he knew what had to have happened.
Hastily, he opened every door, every drawer and even looked under the damn wardrobe itself.
Everything he found were children's clothes. And dust.

Through his teeth left grumbling sounds. A part of him was still annoyed. But another, unbidden feeling hid beneath that morning grumpiness that so often befell him.
He was quite amused, in fact, but Merlin wasn't supposed to know that.
So he threw the clothes back in the drawer and grabbed himself a blanket from his bed to put it around his waist.