#domestic arvin/doc fluff

[wishingxuponxstarsa]

Here’s a small thing I wrote when trying to get energy for writing.

Characters: Doc and Arvin

Summary: Arvin makes Doc breakfast

The soft crunch of vegetables being trapped between a blade and a cutting board was the only sound to be heard as Doc entered the royal kitchens. There was Arvin, chopped onions, peppers, and mushrooms off to the side as he was now working on the chives. The curved knife with two handles on each end, the mezzaluna as humans called it, was in the former king’s hands as he gently rocked it back and forth, cutting the basil into smaller pieces.

Doc leaned against the doorframe, watching Arvin’s tongue stick out as he focused on his task. It wasn’t a sight most got to see, a royal in the kitchen during early morning hours, cooking himself. It was a sight worth drinking in more than what he’d come here to drink. He couldn’t exactly sneak coffee with the king right there after all.

Once he was done with the chives, Arvin pushed them together with the other chopped items and then looked around, frowning. “Where did I put those eggs?” he mused.

Doc moved from his position at the door, picking up a container of four eggs that was resting on a table behind Arvin, and brought it to him. “They’re right here.”

Arvin jumped, a blush and sheepish grin slowly appearing on his face. “Oh, Doc! I thought you’d still be in bed. Shouldn’t you be resting?” He took the eggs from Doc’s outstretched hand; his left hand. Doc’s right arm was still in a sling, close to his chest.

“Couldn’t heap, er sleep,” Doc admitted, moving onto his tiptoes so he could see the counter a bit better. “Making breakfast already?”

“Well um, I know your daughter said that good food would help you heal faster? And you’re used to waking up early at the cottage, so I was hoping to have this done before you woke. I thought a nice omelet would be good. And hard to mess up.” He laughed, still blushing.

Doc frowned. “Folding them can be hard. Mind if I stay and give some advice?”

Arvin shook his head. “No, I don’t mind. If you can’t sleep anyway, might as well have some company! But do bring over a stool and sit! You’re here so we can make sure you’re alright.” Joy had forced him to stay either with Snow or with herself and the prince. Snow’s castle was closer to the cottage, so that’s what he’d picked.

Doc grabbed a stool, struggling to climb up on it. Human stools were so far from the ground! His legs swung a bit as he watched Arvin crack the egg into the pan, slowly frying it. Besides some advice on how to fold in the vegetables, there was silence until the nice aroma filled the room.

Soon, two omelets were sitting on plates. They weren’t perfect, but this wasn’t a restaurant, and Doc thought food that didn’t look perfect tasted better. You could see the work and love that went into it this way.

Arvin was soon pulling up a stool of his own, and pouring some tea that Doc hadn’t even noticed sitting nearby for the both of them. “I know you probably miss your brothers. Hopefully I can be adequate company until you can return to them.”

Doc swirled the tea in his cup before taking a sip. It wasn’t coffee, but the hot drink was still welcome, and soothing. “It’s nice to have a break sometimes. Dopey can be a sandful, handful! It’s never this quiet.” When they weren’t talking, the only sound that could be heard was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the scraping of forks against plates when they took a bite.

Too much quiet could make him anxious. It was one of the reasons he couldn’t sleep. But now, here with Arvin, it was soothing. He wasn’t sure what had changed.

“Well, I’m glad you can get the rest you need.” The king’s smile was kind as he ate his omelet. It was still hard to wrap his head around the idea that a human king enjoyed spending time with a common dwarf, and yet here they were.

Doc took another bite, savoring the flavors of the omelet, before a surprise yawn escaped his mouth. He tried to cover it, but Arvin’s eyes were already on him.

“You know, Joy’s not going to be thrilled if you don’t get enough sleep.”

Doc muttered, not even really sure what he was saying, preferring to pick up and drink his tea. He didn’t want to sleep, even if he knew Arvin was right. Dreams weren’t always pleasant.

The omelet was already gone, but he was surprised when Arvin stood up. “Come on. We’ll have to make you more comfortable.”

“But my broom is, er room –“

“No buts. Come on.” Doc resisted the urge to say a sarcastic comeback. He wasn’t Happy with his puns who’d talk about other types of butts, and he wasn’t Grumpy who dragged his feet all the time.

Well, he could still drag his feet a little, Doc decided. He walked slowly, not because it hurt to walk but because he didn’t really want to get to where they were going. But it wasn’t his room they arrived at.

The king’s chambers were huge, the bed the size of Doc’s own dining room. He gasped, looking up at Arvin in surprise.

“Come on in. My bed’s the comfiest in the castle. And this way I can stay with you. I know you said you liked the quiet, but you’re used to sleeping in a room with your brothers, right? I’ll stay with you, it’ll give you some white noise to sleep to.”

Doc sputtered, too stunned by this turn of events to put things into words. “But, sir, I … are you myrrh, er sure?”

Arvin smiled, nodding. Doc managed to clamber up into the bed without using his right arm. He was pretty sure Arvin was going to be as stubborn as his daughter when it came to his health. He snuggled into the covers, even if it felt rather wrong.

“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Doc nodded, closing his eyes. He had to at least pretend to sleep.

And then he heard it. The rustling of pages. Even with his eyes closed, it brought back a memory. A tired, older man, smiling at him and reading him a dwarven bedtime story as he lay tucked under the covers. One of the few things he always got to do with his father …

But more memories were surfacing. Memories of himself holding the book, trying to gently remind Joy that if she kept asking questions about all the plants and animals in the fairytale, she’d never get to sleep. Memories of Dopey staring at him with wide eyes and complete attention even if Grumpy was rolling his eyes on one side of the room, and Sleepy was already snoring on the other.

Snow had read to them too, hadn’t she? He could almost see her sitting there, trying to get through a story with all their questions and interruptions. It was starting to look very real.

Soon the sounds of pages turning were no longer fueling memories, but dreams, as the old dwarf slept, content for now. Nightmares couldn’t plague him when his dreams were filled with bedtime stories.