THOTH & MORVEREN
If Thoth was a king, he'd sure as heck never have such a heavy, cumbersome rug in his study. Seriously, why? This thing was big enough to turn into a bivouac and house a family of ten. And it was heavy. Had he mentioned that?
He quickly realised that it was no use trying to lay the rug until he'd picked up all the paperwork, which was everywhere. It looked like an entire forest had been destroyed to fill the contents of this room. Thoth half-dragged, half-kicked the rug to one side and managed to prop it up against the fallen desk... for about thirty seconds, after which it fell down again. Whatever. He left it there while he whizzed about the office, trying to pick up all the papers as quickly as possible. Hopefully they had all been in one stack and hadn't been sorted into piles, otherwise he was screwed. Arthur could show up at any minute and -
Creaaaak.
Busted. Pressing the collected papers against his chest, Thoth turned slowly and and stared with dismay at the scene which greeted him. Arthur was stood in the doorway, his mouth slightly open in an expression which Thoth recognised surprise. Nice to know he was still capable of surprising people after all these years. Morveren was crouched quietly at the king's feet, looking either guilty, cowed or uncertain, Thoth couldn't quite tell. Any one of those reactions was appropriate, given that she was the one who had caused all this mess, and now he was about to get into trouble for it.
Worst guard ever, he muttered under his breath as he slowly placed the papers he was holding down on the upturned desk, bracing visibly for the intense telling-off he was sure was forthcoming. It didn't come, but that didn't ease him any. Thoth was always in trouble, for one thing or another, and he didn't have the diplomatic immunity that most of the other kids in the castle enjoyed. They all had rich, influential parents; the castle staff thought twice before telling those children off, and found careful routes to sanctions. It was much easier for Thoth nobody had to tiptoe around him, because nobody ever came to his defence unless something really serious happened.
And now he was about to get into trouble again, for something he hadn't even done. The injustice bubbled up inside him, brushing against the familiar anger he'd done so well to control since his return from Apeliotes Island. With visible effort, he tried to swallow it back down.
It wasn't me, he started, immediately on the defensive. Thoth couldn't read or react to social situations well enough to realise that a calm explanation and sincere apology would save him here. He knew enough to know that getting angry wouldn't help, but beyond that was grasping at straws. I was just in my room taking apart my wardrobe when she showed up with your rug - he gestured at Morveren, who wagged her tail hopefully - so I brought it back and I saw your room like this, and I tried to put it right. I didn't do anything.
His tone expected difficulties rather than trying to ease them, and his small body was tensed defensively. Thoth's bursts of temper usually started this way: with a clear sense of distress and an inability to understand how to deal with the situation.
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