The Church of Hot Addiction (7/?)
Apr. 23rd, 2010 08:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
van_x_tangoTitle: The Church of Hot Addiction
Fandom: Merlin BBC
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Ratings: PG
Words: 2733
Summary: Inspired by the prompt 'Arthur/Merlin AU, with reluctant priest!Merlin and bad Catholic!Arthurseducinghiminaconfessional'
Notes: Thanks again toaccede , for betaing. God knows I need it with my grammar.
===========================
Sure enough, a little over a week later, Will was back - but not after being sent to the confessional by Uther; Merlin realised, when he heard the confession of the right grave, wrong body story from the mystery man on the other side of the screen. Will wasn’t even religious, he was just in it for the digging.
Apart from that it was an even slower day than usual on the confessional front, but he was thankful for the peace and quiet. He was dozing off to the silence and incense when the sound of footsteps drawing nearer on the marble floor invaded his slumber.
He readjusted himself in his velvet cushion seat, working out a crick in his neck as the stranger opened the door of the booth on the other side and their silhouette appeared through the screen where they sat.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been just under two months since my last confession.” The voice of a male rang through.
“What is it you wish to confess?”
“Well, it's not so much a confession, more… advice, maybe.”
The voice paused tentatively, creaking in the seat before continuing.
“I have this… friend, you see, who I kind of upset and now they’re avoiding me. I’m not too certain, but I think I made them unsure and doubt what they do for a living, which I didn’t intend to do.”
“What were you intending to do?”
“I don’t know…” They answered, genuinely sounding unsure. “I suppose I was just trying to show them that not everything is sinful, or that there’s a life outside religion. No offence, Father.”
“Don’t worry, I do other things outside of the church too,” he lied, feeling all the more like a loser. “That is true, there are other things than just religion, but if this person is deeply involved in their religion then you're going to have to respect that.”
“I know. I’m deeply involved myself, well, not on the same level but still, he’s just lying to himself, denying everything that happens, and now he hates me, the bloody idiot,” the stranger vented angrily, before saying, “I bet he’s got a few skeletons in the closet.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” Merlin reassured.
“Wouldn’t you hate me if I made you doubt yourself?”
“No, of course not.” The person seemed to silence their breath, not expecting the answer to be that, confusing Merlin while he explained with, “If you did something wrong, I would forgive you.”
“Is that so?” The voice replied amusedly. “What do you suggest I do then?”
“See this friend of yours and apologise for whatever it is that happened.”
“Like I said, he’s avoiding me.” Although Merlin couldn’t see whoever it was, the eye roll was obvious even to him while this was said.
“I see, maybe… write him a letter?”
The voice chuckled at the idea but it seemed to have at least lightened up his mood.
“You're not very good at this, are you?”
“At giving advice? Far from it,” Merlin laughed. “I prefer to just stick with the confessions.”
“I’m not helping, am I? Sorry about all this then, I’ll figure it out myself.”
He heard the stranger moving to leave, their feet thumping against the booth's wooden floor until he stopped him.
“No no, I’m sorry. I really wish I could help out more.”
“Well, you had a couple of ideas at least, but a letter? Seriously Father Emrys, we’re not living in the middle ages,” he sniggered, sitting back down.
“Yes, well, maybe things would be simpler if we were…” he said morosely, sighing to himself as he stared down at his palms in his lap.
“Something on your mind, Father?” The voice inquired.
“Huh? Oh no, its nothing for you to worry about.”
“Come on, out with it. Something’s got you hot and bothered under that collar of yours. Maybe you had better make it loose.”
“Honest, it's nothing, really,” he smiled at the stranger's concern, making him feel slightly better.
“Well, that’s good, I’d hate for you to lose the collar. It suits you.”
Now the stranger really was making him happier. He liked it when people showed kindness when they didn’t have to, because a lot of them just thought that because he wouldn‘t know who they were outside of the confessional that manners didn‘t matter. Merlin was meant to be making the guy feel better, not the other way around.
“Thank you.”
“Its quite a turn on actually. That tight white collar, around that elegant, pale neck. There’s nothing sexier to me than when I think of you in nothing but that collar. It‘s got me through many nights.”
“What?” Merlin asked bewilderedly, utterly confused at where this conversation had turned.
"You have no idea how many sins I do to myself that involve thinking about you, Merlin."
He tried to remain calm as he croaked, “It's Father Emrys.” from his now overly dry throat.
“Is that what you want me to scream when you fuck me?”
“Excuse me?” Merlin spluttered, wide eyed.
“Because that’s what it will lead to, you know. Shameless fucking. And god, can I scream when I want to.” Like the eye roll, the smirk was also audible despite the lack of facial image.
Panicking slightly, Merlin tried to regain his calmness.
“Who is this?”
“Bloody hell, you’re dense. Are you really that much of an idiot? What if I was to tell you that you were the one I was thinking about when I was kissing that man I told you about at my last confession?”
It dawned on him after a few puzzled seconds as to who it was, and tried to remain more on the topic than dwell on the fact that the stranger was thinking about him at the time.
“You. It's you isn’t it, the guy from last time.”
“Hello, Father,” they said lustily. Neither of them may have been able to see clearly through the screen, but he could tell whoever was on the other side was watching him intently.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, confessional hours are over,” he stoically expressed.
“Don’t you want me to confess my sins? After all, I did just tell you I have many and I can go through them all right now, bit by bit, explain in exact detail what it is I do to myself. And I have all night.”
“Well, I don’t. I’m sorry sir but your going to have to leave, I’m closing up,” he said, no contriteness present what so ever.
“Hmm, I should have known you’d avoid this too,” the voice muttered, feigning disappointment.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing, I’ll just be off now. Sweet dreams, Merlin.”
Even after the stranger left, Merlin didn’t move from his spot at all, in case there was any risk at all of seeing who the person was. There was a part of him that did want to know who it was, but for one it would be against confessional rules, and two, it would be much, much safer if he didn’t know who it was.
=======================================
It was getting to be Easter time by then in Camelot which meant church time activities, something which Merlin had loved as a kid but wasn’t actually very good at organising himself. So when Gwen approached him to ask for his help in organising the Easter fete, he was more than trepid, but thought more about what a perfect way of avoiding Arthur it’d be if he had a yearly event to prepare for that would take up his time.
So, out of his own idiocy, he found himself agreeing and working late into the night preparing for the fete - which was in just under two days time because he had left it until the last minute.
It was a little past half eleven and his candle flame was flickering low, suggesting he should probably get off to bed instead of endlessly listing names of the contestants for the jam tasting contest when a knock resonated at his door.
He was curious as to why someone would need him at this time of night, but welcomed the break nonetheless.
Heaving himself out of his chair, he shuffled for the door, stretching and yawning as he did so, stopping mid-yawn once he’d opened the door to find Arthur standing there, looking less than happy.
“Arthur, what are you doing here at this time of night?”
“Every Tuesday and Thursday evening I’ve waited outside your office for the past two weeks. Tell me Father, are you trying to dodge someone?” Arthur quietly fumed, stepping slowly into the room towards Merlin.
“Er-”
“Because it isn’t nice to keep someone waiting,” he finalised once he walked Merlin right into a corner. They were silent for a few seconds, just staring at each other, until Merlin spoke.
“How’d you find my room?”
“Oh, a little spying always does the trick.”
Again they were silent, but this time Arthur was retreating back from him, making his way over to a chair that was next to Merlin’s bed. Once he was seated he picked up a book from his pillow and aimlessly started reading the cover while asking, “So, have you been trying to avoid me?”
“Of course not,” he replied, way too fast.
Arthur looked up, eyebrows pointedly raised in disbelief.
“Look, Arthur, about the lessons, I don’t think we should continue them, at least not for a while.”
“…Why?”
“Why? Why do you think, Arthur? It's clear I cannot be trusted around you,” he almost shouted, looking incredulously at Arthur.
“That’s not such a bad thing, you know,” he smirked, opening his legs farther apart.
“Don’t even try it,” Merlin warned.
He sighed, rolled his eyes and crossed his legs in distaste.
“I really am sorry about what happened, Father.”
Arthur said it with such sincerity that it was enough to make Merlin rethink his idea.
“I’ll only resume your lessons if you promise to learn, not touch.”
Arthur gives him a look as if it’s the worst idea to be bestowed to mankind, clearly not wanting to agree, but he knows if he doesn’t then it's bye, bye lessons with Merlin, which is why he found himself begrudgingly saying, “Fine.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes.”
“Alright then.”
Merlin satisfyingly turned towards his table, going back to the fete plans. He’s half way over to his chair when Arthur speaks up, now scanning the back cover of the book.
“But what are you going to do?”
“Teach you, of course,” he stated in befuddlement, like it was obvious. Arthur looked up once more, earnestly into Merlin’s eyes.
“No, I mean: what are you going to do when you give in?”
The room fell soundless once more with them both staring across the room at each other. Snapping out of the reverie, Merlin turned his gaze away and hastened back to his work with a sigh.
“I have a lot of work to do Arthur, the Easter fete’s on Saturday and I’ve still got tons to get through. It's best you leave.”
“Maybe I can help.” He eagerly inputted, standing from his chair by the bed.
Merlin paused for a second, thinking, then decided, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“You don’t think a lot of things are a good idea. Anyway, I’m renown for my organisation skills and more. I’ll have you know I’ve had a helping hand in some of the best fetes Camelot has ever seen, maybe even the world.”
Merlin couldn’t hold back laughter at the proud stance Arthur had taken on with his chin jutting out stubbornly high.
“Is that so?”
“Yep, and I have the charm and wit to convince anyone to come and help at short notice because leaving this until last minute was just plain stupid of you,” he teased, trying to sound irritated, but the slight upward curve of his mouth gave him away and was enough for Merlin to give in.
“Fine, you can help. I suppose it won’t be all that bad.”
=======================
Sure enough, it wasn’t all that bad. Arthur pretty much organised everything from catering, rides and other entertainment, all while mocking Merlin for his inability to do anything on time and in the correct manner.
It was a surprisingly sunny day so almost all of the townspeople turned up; playing in sports or other activities, going on rides like the tea cups (which Gwen unfortunately couldn’t hold her stomach on) or just sitting relaxing on the grass while children ran around them in the playing fields.
Merlin, much to his detest, managed to get locked up in some stocks and bombed in the face with wet, foamy sponges. How was it that everyone in Camelot had perfect aim?
“Merlin, this is great fun,” Gaius chimed while wetting yet another sponge, before he attempted aim at Merlin’s face.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t think that if you were the one getting sponged.”
He only got a glare in before the springy, water damp material ricocheted off of his face.
Gwen wandered over, looking slightly less green now and gave them a queasy smile.
“Sister Guinevere, are you feeling any better?”
“Yes, thank you Friar. It's been so long since I‘ve been on a ride I forgot how easily nauseous I get,” she said, swaying faintly.
“Oh, well at least you're feeling better my dear, which means there’s nothing to stop you from having a go,” Gaius mischievously grinned at her, ignoring the protests of Merlin in the background while he held out a sponge towards her.
“No thanks, not that I don’t want to join, I just have to give Merlin a message. Not that I‘d want to hit him in the face with sponges either. Erm, anyway, Bishop Pendragon wanted me to tell you he wishes to see you Merlin, he’s over by the coconut shy - and losing terribly, I might add.”
Merlin beamed, delighted as two helpers unlatched him from the device.
“Hallelujah, anything to get away from Gaius will do. I didn’t know he could be so… frisky.”
Leaving Gwen and Gaius to themselves, he weaved his way through the crowds and stalls until he found the coconut shy, where Uther was trying to knock down all the coconuts and had so far succeeded with nil points.
“Bishop Pendragon, you wanted to see me.”
Turning around at his name, Uther smiled pleasingly at Merlin, jostling him over.
“Ah, yes, Father Emrys. Great fete you’ve put on, here, have my go.”
He took the wooden ball that Uther passed him from his grasp and clumsily threw it at a coconut, missing it by miles.
“Never mind, maybe you‘ll hit it next time.” Patting him on the back, Uther led him away from the stands over to a bench in a quieter area.
“What I was going to say was, there’s an Easter camp coming up in about a week or so up in the Forest of Dean. I know it's short notice, but I need someone to help out with the kids, keep them safe and all of that. Now, the instructor has unfortunately been hospitalised due to some sort of accident, I think it was paragliding or something, but I thought as a next resort that maybe you could fill in - if it's not too much trouble.”
It was one of those moments again where even if you wanted to say no, you really just had no choice but to say yes. Meh, he needed a holiday anyway.
“Sure, I mean I could try, but I don’t expect the kids to fully obey me or anything if they’re going to be running around out in the wild and stuff like that.”
“Excellent. You won’t have to worry about that, my son will be at hand to help you, he attends every year so you’ll both be in command.”
“Oh,” he said, less enthusiastic now and more worried. “Arthur's coming?”
“What other son did you think I meant? Of course he’s going,” he snorted. “I wasn’t just going to send you out on your own with a bunch of tearaways, what sort of person would I be if I did that?”
Merlin thought somewhere in Heaven, God was laughing at him.
==============
Part 8
Fandom: Merlin BBC
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Ratings: PG
Words: 2733
Summary: Inspired by the prompt 'Arthur/Merlin AU, with reluctant priest!Merlin and bad Catholic!Arthur
Notes: Thanks again to
accede , for betaing. God knows I need it with my grammar. ===========================
Sure enough, a little over a week later, Will was back - but not after being sent to the confessional by Uther; Merlin realised, when he heard the confession of the right grave, wrong body story from the mystery man on the other side of the screen. Will wasn’t even religious, he was just in it for the digging.
Apart from that it was an even slower day than usual on the confessional front, but he was thankful for the peace and quiet. He was dozing off to the silence and incense when the sound of footsteps drawing nearer on the marble floor invaded his slumber.
He readjusted himself in his velvet cushion seat, working out a crick in his neck as the stranger opened the door of the booth on the other side and their silhouette appeared through the screen where they sat.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been just under two months since my last confession.” The voice of a male rang through.
“What is it you wish to confess?”
“Well, it's not so much a confession, more… advice, maybe.”
The voice paused tentatively, creaking in the seat before continuing.
“I have this… friend, you see, who I kind of upset and now they’re avoiding me. I’m not too certain, but I think I made them unsure and doubt what they do for a living, which I didn’t intend to do.”
“What were you intending to do?”
“I don’t know…” They answered, genuinely sounding unsure. “I suppose I was just trying to show them that not everything is sinful, or that there’s a life outside religion. No offence, Father.”
“Don’t worry, I do other things outside of the church too,” he lied, feeling all the more like a loser. “That is true, there are other things than just religion, but if this person is deeply involved in their religion then you're going to have to respect that.”
“I know. I’m deeply involved myself, well, not on the same level but still, he’s just lying to himself, denying everything that happens, and now he hates me, the bloody idiot,” the stranger vented angrily, before saying, “I bet he’s got a few skeletons in the closet.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” Merlin reassured.
“Wouldn’t you hate me if I made you doubt yourself?”
“No, of course not.” The person seemed to silence their breath, not expecting the answer to be that, confusing Merlin while he explained with, “If you did something wrong, I would forgive you.”
“Is that so?” The voice replied amusedly. “What do you suggest I do then?”
“See this friend of yours and apologise for whatever it is that happened.”
“Like I said, he’s avoiding me.” Although Merlin couldn’t see whoever it was, the eye roll was obvious even to him while this was said.
“I see, maybe… write him a letter?”
The voice chuckled at the idea but it seemed to have at least lightened up his mood.
“You're not very good at this, are you?”
“At giving advice? Far from it,” Merlin laughed. “I prefer to just stick with the confessions.”
“I’m not helping, am I? Sorry about all this then, I’ll figure it out myself.”
He heard the stranger moving to leave, their feet thumping against the booth's wooden floor until he stopped him.
“No no, I’m sorry. I really wish I could help out more.”
“Well, you had a couple of ideas at least, but a letter? Seriously Father Emrys, we’re not living in the middle ages,” he sniggered, sitting back down.
“Yes, well, maybe things would be simpler if we were…” he said morosely, sighing to himself as he stared down at his palms in his lap.
“Something on your mind, Father?” The voice inquired.
“Huh? Oh no, its nothing for you to worry about.”
“Come on, out with it. Something’s got you hot and bothered under that collar of yours. Maybe you had better make it loose.”
“Honest, it's nothing, really,” he smiled at the stranger's concern, making him feel slightly better.
“Well, that’s good, I’d hate for you to lose the collar. It suits you.”
Now the stranger really was making him happier. He liked it when people showed kindness when they didn’t have to, because a lot of them just thought that because he wouldn‘t know who they were outside of the confessional that manners didn‘t matter. Merlin was meant to be making the guy feel better, not the other way around.
“Thank you.”
“Its quite a turn on actually. That tight white collar, around that elegant, pale neck. There’s nothing sexier to me than when I think of you in nothing but that collar. It‘s got me through many nights.”
“What?” Merlin asked bewilderedly, utterly confused at where this conversation had turned.
"You have no idea how many sins I do to myself that involve thinking about you, Merlin."
He tried to remain calm as he croaked, “It's Father Emrys.” from his now overly dry throat.
“Is that what you want me to scream when you fuck me?”
“Excuse me?” Merlin spluttered, wide eyed.
“Because that’s what it will lead to, you know. Shameless fucking. And god, can I scream when I want to.” Like the eye roll, the smirk was also audible despite the lack of facial image.
Panicking slightly, Merlin tried to regain his calmness.
“Who is this?”
“Bloody hell, you’re dense. Are you really that much of an idiot? What if I was to tell you that you were the one I was thinking about when I was kissing that man I told you about at my last confession?”
It dawned on him after a few puzzled seconds as to who it was, and tried to remain more on the topic than dwell on the fact that the stranger was thinking about him at the time.
“You. It's you isn’t it, the guy from last time.”
“Hello, Father,” they said lustily. Neither of them may have been able to see clearly through the screen, but he could tell whoever was on the other side was watching him intently.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, confessional hours are over,” he stoically expressed.
“Don’t you want me to confess my sins? After all, I did just tell you I have many and I can go through them all right now, bit by bit, explain in exact detail what it is I do to myself. And I have all night.”
“Well, I don’t. I’m sorry sir but your going to have to leave, I’m closing up,” he said, no contriteness present what so ever.
“Hmm, I should have known you’d avoid this too,” the voice muttered, feigning disappointment.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing, I’ll just be off now. Sweet dreams, Merlin.”
Even after the stranger left, Merlin didn’t move from his spot at all, in case there was any risk at all of seeing who the person was. There was a part of him that did want to know who it was, but for one it would be against confessional rules, and two, it would be much, much safer if he didn’t know who it was.
=======================================
It was getting to be Easter time by then in Camelot which meant church time activities, something which Merlin had loved as a kid but wasn’t actually very good at organising himself. So when Gwen approached him to ask for his help in organising the Easter fete, he was more than trepid, but thought more about what a perfect way of avoiding Arthur it’d be if he had a yearly event to prepare for that would take up his time.
So, out of his own idiocy, he found himself agreeing and working late into the night preparing for the fete - which was in just under two days time because he had left it until the last minute.
It was a little past half eleven and his candle flame was flickering low, suggesting he should probably get off to bed instead of endlessly listing names of the contestants for the jam tasting contest when a knock resonated at his door.
He was curious as to why someone would need him at this time of night, but welcomed the break nonetheless.
Heaving himself out of his chair, he shuffled for the door, stretching and yawning as he did so, stopping mid-yawn once he’d opened the door to find Arthur standing there, looking less than happy.
“Arthur, what are you doing here at this time of night?”
“Every Tuesday and Thursday evening I’ve waited outside your office for the past two weeks. Tell me Father, are you trying to dodge someone?” Arthur quietly fumed, stepping slowly into the room towards Merlin.
“Er-”
“Because it isn’t nice to keep someone waiting,” he finalised once he walked Merlin right into a corner. They were silent for a few seconds, just staring at each other, until Merlin spoke.
“How’d you find my room?”
“Oh, a little spying always does the trick.”
Again they were silent, but this time Arthur was retreating back from him, making his way over to a chair that was next to Merlin’s bed. Once he was seated he picked up a book from his pillow and aimlessly started reading the cover while asking, “So, have you been trying to avoid me?”
“Of course not,” he replied, way too fast.
Arthur looked up, eyebrows pointedly raised in disbelief.
“Look, Arthur, about the lessons, I don’t think we should continue them, at least not for a while.”
“…Why?”
“Why? Why do you think, Arthur? It's clear I cannot be trusted around you,” he almost shouted, looking incredulously at Arthur.
“That’s not such a bad thing, you know,” he smirked, opening his legs farther apart.
“Don’t even try it,” Merlin warned.
He sighed, rolled his eyes and crossed his legs in distaste.
“I really am sorry about what happened, Father.”
Arthur said it with such sincerity that it was enough to make Merlin rethink his idea.
“I’ll only resume your lessons if you promise to learn, not touch.”
Arthur gives him a look as if it’s the worst idea to be bestowed to mankind, clearly not wanting to agree, but he knows if he doesn’t then it's bye, bye lessons with Merlin, which is why he found himself begrudgingly saying, “Fine.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes.”
“Alright then.”
Merlin satisfyingly turned towards his table, going back to the fete plans. He’s half way over to his chair when Arthur speaks up, now scanning the back cover of the book.
“But what are you going to do?”
“Teach you, of course,” he stated in befuddlement, like it was obvious. Arthur looked up once more, earnestly into Merlin’s eyes.
“No, I mean: what are you going to do when you give in?”
The room fell soundless once more with them both staring across the room at each other. Snapping out of the reverie, Merlin turned his gaze away and hastened back to his work with a sigh.
“I have a lot of work to do Arthur, the Easter fete’s on Saturday and I’ve still got tons to get through. It's best you leave.”
“Maybe I can help.” He eagerly inputted, standing from his chair by the bed.
Merlin paused for a second, thinking, then decided, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“You don’t think a lot of things are a good idea. Anyway, I’m renown for my organisation skills and more. I’ll have you know I’ve had a helping hand in some of the best fetes Camelot has ever seen, maybe even the world.”
Merlin couldn’t hold back laughter at the proud stance Arthur had taken on with his chin jutting out stubbornly high.
“Is that so?”
“Yep, and I have the charm and wit to convince anyone to come and help at short notice because leaving this until last minute was just plain stupid of you,” he teased, trying to sound irritated, but the slight upward curve of his mouth gave him away and was enough for Merlin to give in.
“Fine, you can help. I suppose it won’t be all that bad.”
=======================
Sure enough, it wasn’t all that bad. Arthur pretty much organised everything from catering, rides and other entertainment, all while mocking Merlin for his inability to do anything on time and in the correct manner.
It was a surprisingly sunny day so almost all of the townspeople turned up; playing in sports or other activities, going on rides like the tea cups (which Gwen unfortunately couldn’t hold her stomach on) or just sitting relaxing on the grass while children ran around them in the playing fields.
Merlin, much to his detest, managed to get locked up in some stocks and bombed in the face with wet, foamy sponges. How was it that everyone in Camelot had perfect aim?
“Merlin, this is great fun,” Gaius chimed while wetting yet another sponge, before he attempted aim at Merlin’s face.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t think that if you were the one getting sponged.”
He only got a glare in before the springy, water damp material ricocheted off of his face.
Gwen wandered over, looking slightly less green now and gave them a queasy smile.
“Sister Guinevere, are you feeling any better?”
“Yes, thank you Friar. It's been so long since I‘ve been on a ride I forgot how easily nauseous I get,” she said, swaying faintly.
“Oh, well at least you're feeling better my dear, which means there’s nothing to stop you from having a go,” Gaius mischievously grinned at her, ignoring the protests of Merlin in the background while he held out a sponge towards her.
“No thanks, not that I don’t want to join, I just have to give Merlin a message. Not that I‘d want to hit him in the face with sponges either. Erm, anyway, Bishop Pendragon wanted me to tell you he wishes to see you Merlin, he’s over by the coconut shy - and losing terribly, I might add.”
Merlin beamed, delighted as two helpers unlatched him from the device.
“Hallelujah, anything to get away from Gaius will do. I didn’t know he could be so… frisky.”
Leaving Gwen and Gaius to themselves, he weaved his way through the crowds and stalls until he found the coconut shy, where Uther was trying to knock down all the coconuts and had so far succeeded with nil points.
“Bishop Pendragon, you wanted to see me.”
Turning around at his name, Uther smiled pleasingly at Merlin, jostling him over.
“Ah, yes, Father Emrys. Great fete you’ve put on, here, have my go.”
He took the wooden ball that Uther passed him from his grasp and clumsily threw it at a coconut, missing it by miles.
“Never mind, maybe you‘ll hit it next time.” Patting him on the back, Uther led him away from the stands over to a bench in a quieter area.
“What I was going to say was, there’s an Easter camp coming up in about a week or so up in the Forest of Dean. I know it's short notice, but I need someone to help out with the kids, keep them safe and all of that. Now, the instructor has unfortunately been hospitalised due to some sort of accident, I think it was paragliding or something, but I thought as a next resort that maybe you could fill in - if it's not too much trouble.”
It was one of those moments again where even if you wanted to say no, you really just had no choice but to say yes. Meh, he needed a holiday anyway.
“Sure, I mean I could try, but I don’t expect the kids to fully obey me or anything if they’re going to be running around out in the wild and stuff like that.”
“Excellent. You won’t have to worry about that, my son will be at hand to help you, he attends every year so you’ll both be in command.”
“Oh,” he said, less enthusiastic now and more worried. “Arthur's coming?”
“What other son did you think I meant? Of course he’s going,” he snorted. “I wasn’t just going to send you out on your own with a bunch of tearaways, what sort of person would I be if I did that?”
Merlin thought somewhere in Heaven, God was laughing at him.
==============
Part 8