And less likely to sprout a beard by morning, I imagine. [He scraped a hand over his jaw a little ruefully, already sporting a faint shadow. But when Charles didn't push on, he stayed where he was, frowning - and then frowning harder. He was drunk, but not so far gone that he couldn't pull himself into some semblance of sobriety. He never was.
Squeezing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, Erik shook his head. His contact with Merlin and Arthur was minimal, but occasionally Charles spoke of them, and he listened; they were not his friends, but they were important to Charles, and he listened well. Arthur dying - King Arthur - was no small deal.]
Spam
Squeezing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, Erik shook his head. His contact with Merlin and Arthur was minimal, but occasionally Charles spoke of them, and he listened; they were not his friends, but they were important to Charles, and he listened well. Arthur dying - King Arthur - was no small deal.]
What happened?