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“Gwaine wants to take me to the tavern,” Mordred said as he rushed into Gaius’s chambers.
“What?” Merlin knew that Gwaine had been itching for a new drinking buddy ever since Elyan told him he’d not be caught dead drinking with Gwaine ever again, but he didn’t think he’d go after Mordred. “What for?”
“He thinks I need to drink so I’ll relax.” Rather than looking like he’d relax, Mordred looked ready to throw up from nerves. “How do I get out of this?”
Merlin snickered, not able to help finding it just a tad amusing. “Just tell him no, lock your door, or tell Arthur that Gwaine’s trying to get you to the tavern.”
“Right, right, that’ll do…I'll lock my door!” Mordred shouted his thanks over his shoulder as he slammed the door shut. Merlin just shook his head and returned to polishing Arthur’s boots. One of these days, Mordred would need to learn to play the Arthur card if he really wanted to get out of something.
A tankard of mead flew over Mordred’s head and smashed against the wall. He squeaked and ducked down, practically cowering in Merlin’s side. “I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, this is awful.”
“I can’t believe you dragged me into this…” Merlin groaned. He really needed to learn how to resist those puppy eyes.
“Alright!” Gwaine plopped three tankards down on the table, beer sloshing nearly out of the mugs as he sat down. “What’cha think, boy?”
“I want to go home,” Mordred said plainly, and Gwaine just laughed. Clearly, he’d already started drinking.
“Try to relax, Mordred, drink up!” Gwaine said cheerily. He slid Mordred’s drink toward him and did the same with Merlin’s. “Honestly, you need to lighten up, learn to live a little! Even the princess knows how to let loose once in a while!”
Someone started shouting and banging on a table, then Mordred heard glass breaking and boisterous laughter. He grabbed his drink and took a swig, grimacing as it went down. It tasted awful, but if this got him out of the tavern quicker, so be it. He took a deep breath and slammed down the rest of the mug. “There.”
Gwaine whistled, cackling as he got up and took the mug with him. “Look at the boy go!”
“Be careful,” Merlin warned Mordred once Gwaine was back at the bar. “You don’t drink anything more alcoholic than the slight bit of wine in your water. If you keep that up, you’ll be so drunk you can’t move.”
“It’ll be fine, Merlin, I promise.”
“Arthur’s gonna kill us!” Gwaine groaned as he tried to haul Mordred up the citadel steps.
“Us?” Merlin repeated. “Since when is this us? You’re the one who wanted to bring Mordred to the tavern!” Merlin kept fussing over Mordred, ensuring that the boy wasn’t about to puke (again) with the way Gwaine half-carried him.
Mordred just giggled and hiccupped, doing absolutely nothing to help Gwaine get him inside. “I like the tavern, now!” he announced loudly and excitedly. “I get it, now, Gwaine!” He reached a hand up and tried to poke Gwaine in the cheek, but he missed and jabbed him in the ear. “Oops, sorry, that’s your…your…hearer.”
“Ear, Mordred,” Merlin supplied.
“Ear!” Mordred shouted.
“In hindsight, this might’ve been a bad idea,” Gwaine said with a laugh. He adjusted his hold on Mordred and pretty much just dragged him down the hall. “And he is going to feel this in the morning!”
“Yeah, he’s going to hate you tomorrow,” Merlin said.
Mordred raised a hand in the air silently, and Merlin moved closer to keep an eye on him. His eyes glowed gold, then a curtain ripped down from the window. Mordred just giggled his head off and slumped back against Gwaine.
“…Well, that’s not good.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him use his magic.” Gwaine was absolutely in awe. He knew Mordred had magic, but he hardly could believe it.
“If he’s using his magic, that means he is really not filtering himself,” Merlin said. He took over a bit for Gwaine, letting Mordred lean on him as they walked.
“I can filter m’self jus’ ffffffffine, Emrys, shush!” Mordred fussed.
“Emrys?”
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.
“He’s drunk, Gwaine, he hardly knows where he is,” Merlin said. “He’s confused.”
“I’m not fon- conf…confused, Emrys!” Mordred whined. “I know who you are! You're amaaaaaaazing!”
“Damn, he needs to get to bed…” Gwaine groaned. He tried to move a little faster. That is, until their next obstacle approached. “Shit, we should’ve gone the long way.”
“Arthur can’t hear him.”
“Arthur?” Mordred turned his head up at Merlin, eyes watering, and he squirmed in the two’s arms.
“Woah, woah, careful, Mordred,” Gwaine fussed, readjusting for the umpteenth time that night. “We don’t need you to hit the floor.”
“Aaaaaaaarthuuuuuuuur!”
“Shhhhhh!” Merlin clamped a hand over Mordred’s mouth.
Unfortunately, Arthur heard Mordred. He poked his head out his door to see Gwaine and Merlin holding Mordred up, and he rushed out the door. “The hell did you two do?”
“It was Gwaine’s idea, I was forced.”
Gwaine shot a glare at Merlin, who just stuck his tongue out at him.
“Kid’s absolutely smashed,” Gwaine explained.
“I can see that, Gwaine, how did this happen?”
Mordred giggled and raised his hand again, and Merlin panicked, grabbing his hand to pin down. “Gwaine wanted to take him to the tavern, Mordred didn’t want to be there, so he kept slamming down everything Gwaine brought over in hopes he’d get to leave quicker,” Merlin explained. “Needless to say…he got drunk out of his mind before he got to leave.”
“Get him inside,” Arthur fussed, so Gwaine and Merlin dragged Mordred into the prince’s chambers. They wouldn’t admit that they were thankful not to have to drag Mordred all the way to his room. “Mordred, are you alright?” Arthur asked once the boy was sat down.
“The room…won’t stay still,” Mordred said. His eyes went crossed, and he shook his head out to steady things. “Oh, that didn’t help…” He winced and squeezed his eyes shut.
“I’m going to get him some water,” Merlin said, fetching a pitcher of water. Mordred whined as the cup was set in front of him, squirming in his seat. It’s just water, Mordred, Merlin said in his head. It seemed to catch Mordred off guard as he jumped in his seat. If you don’t drink some water, you’re going to have an awful morning.
The warning seemed to do the trick. Mordred drank his water with teary eyes, wishing this was over already.
“One thing’s for sure,” Gwaine said with a laugh, “this kid can hold a lot of liquor.”
“Gwaine, I don’t think you should be so proud of that,” Arthur said over his shoulder. It did nothing to erase the grin on Gwaine’s face. Arthur just rolled his eyes and turned back to Mordred. “Do you want to stay here tonight, Mordred? We can keep an eye on you in here.”
Mordred nodded before finishing off his second cup of water. “Please, pa…” He dropped his head onto the table and whined into the surface.
Meanwhile, Arthur stiffed up in pure shock. He was at least grateful neither Gwaine nor Merlin laughed. Arthur wanted to say something, but by the time he gathered words in his throat, he heard soft snores escaping the boy. “Merlin, go get something for him to eat if he wakes back up. Gwaine, help me get him in bed…”
“You want a bucket as well in case things start…moving?” Merlin asked. Arthur only shot him a glare in response, so Merlin took that as a yes.
When Mordred woke up the next morning, he felt like his skull had been split open. The pain seeped down toward his eyes, and even the sunlight peeking in through the curtains hurt. He groaned as he sat up slowly, head pounding with the slightest movement. It was only after he was properly sat up that he realized he was in Arthur’s bed.
And Arthur was at his desk.
“You’re awake,” Arthur said plainly, looking up from the papers in front of him. “How are you feeling?”
“Like death…” Mordred managed to say. He winced and held his head in his hands.
“Might not have been your smartest choice to just…drink ten tankards by yourself.”
“Ten?” Mordred repeated just a bit too loudly. He hissed as his head protested the volume.
“You’re lucky you didn’t pass out,” Arthur fussed.
When Mordred thought about it, though, he wished he had passed out. At least if he’d been unconscious he wouldn’t have been…such an idiot in front of Arthur, Gwaine, and Merlin. “I’m sorry, Arthur…”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Arthur said with a gentle smile. Mordred could tell he wanted to ask about what had happened, but he knew Arthur wouldn’t say a word unless someone else mentioned it. He knew he certainly wasn’t going to bring up calling Arthur pa of all things. That was worse than accidentally calling Merlin Emrys in front of Gwaine.
“Aye, he lives!” Gwaine said as quietly as he could. He got up from the piled of blankets he’d gathered into a makeshift bed to go check on Mordred. “You okay this morning, kid?”
“I’ll be alright,” Mordred whispered. Whispers didn’t hurt nearly as bad.
“Yeah, you’ll be just fine with your pa fussing over you,” Gwaine teased, lightly patting Mordred’s shoulder. He only looked up when he felt Arthur’s glare boring into him, and he shot him a too-big grin.
“Why don’t you go hunt down Merlin, Gwaine? Make sure he brings an actual breakfast up here,” Arthur said through his teeth. Gwaine laughed and winked at him before disappearing out the door.
“Sorry…” Mordred whispered.
“What for?”
“For…calling you that…it was inappropriate.”
“Mordred, don’t worry about it,” Arthur said with a wave of his hand. “If you think of me like a father, then I’m honored. And if you slip up and say that every now and then…I’ll punish any of the knights that tease you for it.”
There was that weird form of permission Arthur gave him far too often. Mordred didn’t know how to handle that kind of thing, so he always dropped the behavior and tried to make sure Arthur forgot about it, too. He was sure he’d never call Arthur ‘pa’ again, even if Arthur said it was okay if it happened accidentally.
Merlin brought in breakfast a moment later, and Mordred was thankful for the distraction. He’d deal with Merlin’s mother-henning over Arthur’s odd proud smile any day.