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I've been wondering, Scorched.

[ Arthur has been training since before the sun rose: it's visible in the flush across the bridge of his nose, the way his blond bangs are sticking dark to his temples, the slouch of his usually straight-backed posture. But he needs a break, a distraction from his own mind, from the questions that have been plaguing it without concrete answer. ]

Say that the Door started — temporarily — working the way that all doors should, and we could all trip merrily back to our own worlds.

[ A breath, considering whether he's really going to ask. Despite his slightly laconic tone, he knows how depressing some of the answers he'll get will be. But he still wants to know: ]

Would you stay here in Anatole?

Or would you go home?

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[It's true, he would forget. Merlin hadn't exactly thought of that. But unlike everyone else, he hadn't put a lot of thought into the question. It didn't seem necessary.]

Wouldn't you? Return, that is.

[And forget.]

Dunno.

Really?

[His brows draw together, curious.]

For what reasons would you stay?

[ A shrug, and he keeps his tone light. ]

Friends. Memories. To keep things as they were.

Those are good reasons. If I did leave, I certainly wouldn't run.

You didn't even have to think about it.

I chose the one I thought you would. You've always had a sense of duty, honor. Wasn't sure how long you could resist.

[ He broods on that for a bit. Duty. ]

What about what you want.

[ Hey, remember this conversation? Arthur still can't bake bread. ]

[He laughs, softly and briefly. Yes, he remembers. He also remembers that was the worst bread he ever ate.]

I want to go if you go and stay if you stay. So you're never alone.

All right.

[ That makes something in him ache, but he can put it aside. ]

But if, in this wholly hypothetical scenario, I lost my senses completely and said I'd go wherever you wanted, which'd it be?

[He huffs, and his expression clearly says that's not fair. But he puts more thought into it this time.]

That depends. Are your senses ever coming back?

That depends on whether or not I've been enchanted.

If you were enchanted you would probably wander off through the door yourself.

[What part of stay here did you not understand?]

Let's also assume, incorrectly, that you have the sense not to let me roam the streets of Anatole.

[...whoosh whoosh.]

I would want for us to stay.

But we probably wouldn't.

Yeah.

[The mood is too heavy. And Merlin decides they've had quite enough of that, and that it's his job to change it.]

But if a frog could fly, he wouldn't go around bumping his little green arse. The door's never going to give us that option.

It's a question of whether it's an option worth fighting for.

Can I borrow one of your scarves?

[Anything he might've said is trumped by the odd request.]

Why do you want to borrow one of my scarves?

Don't ask questions, it's not actually a request.

But...

You're not going to do anything to it, are you? They're hard to find here!

What? No. I just want to wear it. For luck.

If that's all right.

[ Okay, so it is a request after all. ]

[For luck...]

[Oh.]

[Merlin just stares at him for a moment, but with every second past that, he's in serious danger of idiotic grinning.]

I think the red one might just do the trick.

[ Somehow that request was more nerve-wracking than the major fight he's got lined up later today. He tries not to make his relief too obvious. ]

Great.

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