𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝕿𝖜𝖔
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: From trolls to dragons to foreign princesses, Astraea Aphelion grows stronger as she
continues to navigate medieval Britain using her wit and heart, standing unshaken beside Merlin and Arthur as they face every threa...
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📍 Camelot
⏳October, 505 AD
[warnings: death, description of a panic attack]
We settled down to make camp near the border between Cenred's kingdom and Camelot once the sun began to set. Merlin and I teamed up to prepare something like a stew using some of the supplies we'd packed from Gaius's home while the Prince sat on a log looking pretty, or whatever.
My best friend seemed worlds away, his brow furrowed as he stared off into the distance, not really paying attention to the potatoes he was supposed to be chopping. I didn't press him to work faster or to talk, knowing that he was likely upset by the whole deal with Balinor. I can only imagine what state I'd be in if I were in his place. I'm sure I would've broken down already.
"I always thought that silence would be a blessing with you, Merlin, but I find it just as irritating," Arthur suddenly said, breaking the silence. "You are a riddle."
Merlin sent me an annoyed side-glance before echoing, "A riddle?"
"Yes," the Prince responded. "But I have got to quite like you..."
"Oh, this has to go straight to the history books! Art's finally admitted that he likes Merls!" I teased, earning an eye-roll from the Prince and a smirk from my best friend.
"Oh, yeah?" Merlin challenged Arthur.
"Yeah – now I realise you are not as big a fool as you look," Arthur shot back and he used a branch he'd been playing with to poke my friend's back, making him fall forwards a little and almost knock the potatoes off the chopping board.
I took the items from him and continued to cut them myself while still paying attention to the conversation.
"Yeah, I feel the same..." Merlin responded. "Now that I realise you are not as arrogant as you sound."
I snorted and decided to leave the potatoes for later, fearing I'd lose a finger for lack of concentration in the face of the entertaining banter.
Arthur glanced away, seeming taken aback by my friend's words as his smile faded. "You still think I am arrogant?"
"No," Merlin shook his head, his brow knitting in thought. "More... supercilious."
I giggled as Arthur's enchanting eyes widened. "That is a big word, Merlin," he noted condescendingly. "Are you sure you know what it means?"
"Condescending," my friend replied sharply.
"Very good."
"Patronising..." Merlin continued.
"It does not quite mean that," Arthur noted.
"No – these are other things you are," my best friend shot back. I bursted out laughing and high-fived him.
