FIC * How To Woo Your Manservant * Merlin * Arthur/Merlin * 1/2

[renrenren3]

Title: How To Woo Your Manservant
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Arthur/Merlin, various others
Words: 15,114
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none (written pre-S3)
Summary: When Arthur finally realizes he's hopelessly in love with Merlin, he has no idea how one is supposed to court his manservant but this won't stop him from trying. Repeatedly. Insistently. With flowers, chicken and destiny if he has to.
Beta: han_corrupted & quarterwhore - you two are awesome, I'd never have managed to finish it without your support!
Notes: Written for a merlin_muses prompt. This is by far my longest fic, but writing it was a blast.
Bonus: If you like fanmixes, I made one to go with this fic: Fight Your Feelings.
Chinese translation courtesy of Amy



It hadn't been love at first sight, Arthur was certain of that much at least. There had been no choir of angels, no pink clouds, no golden sparkles, no sudden revelation. Just a growing sense of something. It had taken Arthur months to piece it together.

It finally occurred to him one afternoon as he looked down into the courtyard from his window, tapping his fingers idly on the glass panes. He was going to be late for combat practice, but a certain idiot servant had taken away his armour to polish it and hadn't returned yet.

Arthur was about to go down to Gaius's rooms himself to see what had become of his armour when he finally saw Merlin hurrying across the courtyard with a large bundle in his arms.

"At long last!" Arthur muttered, only to splutter indignantly as Merlin stopped to greet Gwen who was walking down the castle's steps at that moment.

Arthur had to watch with mounting annoyance as Merlin (displaying his usual complete disregard for punctuality) launched into telling Gwen some kind of story. He was gesticulating as much as he could without dropping his burden, and Gwen started laughing.

Arthur noticed with growing discomfort that he wasn't just angry because of his servant's incompetence. (Sadly, by now he was used to it.) In truth he wished he could skip training altogether and join Gwen and Merlin in the courtyard. They seemed to be having fun together. Without him.

And that, Arthur thought, was a very stupid idea. Why should he care about two servants chatting together? It was none of his business.

Besides, whatever romantic feelings he might have had towards Guinevere had been truncated months ago when she'd made it clear that she was in love with another man. He hadn't been jealous of Lancelot at that time, so why should he be jealous of Merlin now?

Just then Merlin looked up and caught Arthur's eye. With a start he waved goodbye to Gwen and rushed up the stairs and into the castle, disappearing from sight.

Arthur turned towards the door expectantly. "At long last," he repeated, and then it all made sense.

Except that it didn't make any sense because it wasn't been Merlin he was jealous of, it was Gwen. He was jealous of Gwen because she was talking with Merlin.

Merlin, who never bowed and always talked back and was the worst servant Arthur had ever seen. Merlin, who lied a lot but never about important things, and didn't like to follow orders but trusted Arthur blindly. Merlin, who'd gone from being a figure in the background to never leaving Arthur's thoughts at all.

Who was he trying to fool? He was in love with Merlin.

Arthur was still trying to come to grips with this new and terrifying idea when his door flew open and Merlin barged in, muttering something about armours and stains, and Arthur decided that it'd be a good idea to order him to muck the stables.

At least, Arthur reasoned, this would give him time to assess the situation so he could organize his thoughts before making a fool of himself in front of his servant. Or his love interest. Or whatever Merlin was at the moment. Arthur definitely needed more time to think about it.

Merlin grimaced. "Can't you just put me in the stocks?" he suggested. "At least I wouldn't go home smelling of horse dung again."

"If you don't go now," Arthur replied, "I'll have you muck the stables and then throw you in the stocks."

Merlin walked away grumbling, leaving Arthur to put on the armour on his own. As he joined his knights for his (very, very late) practice, he reflected that there were probably better ways to start a courtship than this.

Picking up his sword, Arthur thought the problem was that he had no idea of how a courtship was supposed to go.

From his few and unsuccessful attempts he seemed to recall that flowers featured prominently, but somehow getting Merlin a bunch of daisies or lilies or whatever didn't sound like a good plan. Merlin would probably laugh at it, and if there's something Arthur didn't want, it was making a fool of himself. He was already doing a good job of that without pansies entering the picture.

Usually in such a situation Arthur would have asked for Merlin's help, or rather ordered him to do something about it, but he couldn't very well do that now. And there was nobody else Arthur could turn to for advice.

Going to Morgana, who was the closest that Arthur had to a sibling, was out of question. Arthur doubted that her black heart had ever been capable of loving someone, and even if she could give Arthur some advice she'd tease him about it for the rest of eternity.

Gwen would surely be nicer about it, but there was something awkward in asking her for advice about courting Merlin after having asked Merlin for advice about courting Gwen. (Arthur blamed this on Merlin. He'd never had problems ordering servants around before Merlin had come along and demanded that he treated them as people, and now things were unnecessarily complicated.)

The list of people that Arthur could trust with his secret was dismally short. Lancelot was off in some faraway kingdom. Gaius was too close to Merlin and might let something slip.

His knights were loyal to Camelot but he couldn't imagine that they'd be any better with romance than himself. Besides, he could never be sure which ones were true friends and which ones were just trying to curry his favours.

Leon, who was his current duelling partner, was quiet and sensible and not prone to chatter. Arthur was just thinking that maybe he could tell him about Merlin when the man lunged forward and caught him open, landing a heavy blow on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur lost his footing and fell backwards ungraciously in a crash of armour.

The other men in the training yard stopped to check if he was injured but Arthur waved them back to their sparring. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry about that, sire," Leon told him apologetically, offering him his hand. Arthur took it gratefully and pushed himself back to his feet, then tried to brush the dust off his breeches nonchalantly as if being knocked off his feet during practice was a common occurrence.

Which it was, to be sure, but usually Arthur was the one who sent other knights flying. How long had it been since the last time he'd made such a blunder?

Leon seemed to be thinking among the same lines. "I thought you'd parry that," he said. "Are you all right?"

Arthur nodded quickly. "I'm fine," he replied. "Just... I'm fine."

That was a blatant lie, since he could already feel a huge bruise spreading through his upper arm and shoulder, but he couldn't tell Leon the truth now. Admitting that he'd been distracted by his love troubles would sound too much like an excuse, and a lame one at that.

Arthur gritted his teeth and tried not to think about Merlin at all. He just barely managed to avoid being caught off guard again that afternoon, but left the training yard feeling thoroughly beaten.

By the time he got back to his rooms, Arthur's shoulder was throbbing painfully and he felt the beginning of a headache. He wanted nothing better than to curl up in bed and go to sleep, but he also wanted to see Merlin since he'd barely had a chance to talk with him since that morning.

In the end Merlin won over sleep and Arthur threw himself on a chair and waited for Merlin to show up with his dinner.

He was gracious enough not to make any snide remarks even though Merlin arrived late, carrying a dish of chicken that had by now gone cold. He didn't say anything when Merlin made an unnecessary amount of noise setting it on the table, and refrained to mention the faint smell of horse manure that still clung to Merlin.

He was acting like a perfect gentleman. Arthur thought that, all in all, the evening was going well.

"Have I got something on my face?" Merlin asked suddenly, rubbing his cheek with his sleeve.

"What?" Arthur said, snapping out of his daydream. "No, you don't. Why?"

Merlin frowned and craned his head, trying to look into Arthur's mirror. "You've been staring at me all the time," he said.

"No, I haven't," Arthur replied quickly, then realized that it was probably a lie and hastened to change the subject. "How was your day?"

"Oh, it was great, sire," Merlin said with a grin. "It's good fun, mucking the stables."

Arthur's smile froze on his face and he privately cursed himself for being a fool. Wrong thing to say, but he couldn't think clearly now. His headache was getting worse, he was tired from training and Merlin was being the biggest distraction just by standing in front of Arthur's table.

"Yes, well, you were late," Arthur said defensively, fidgeting with his potatoes.

"I was polishing your armour!" Merlin complained. "I did it as quickly as I could but there were all those stains from when you fought that green slimy creature and they were a real pain to remove..."

Merlin, Arthur thought, looked really adorable as he said that. As if he'd been the victim of some tyrannical prince, which was ridiculous since Arthur was always fair. And did he just think that Merlin was adorable? He really needed some sleep.

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, then noticed that Merlin had concluded his tirade and was looking at him expectantly. Arthur hadn't been listening, had there been a question?

For lack of anything better to say, Arthur smiled and said, "I saw you talking with Guinevere in the courtyard."
Then his brain caught up with his mouth and he wished he could take his words back. No need to bring that up, except that he just had.

He'd never mentioned Gwen to Merlin after their falling out. He hadn't even told him that there'd been a falling out, but he assumed Merlin had found out from Gwen. Merlin was very careful never to talk about Gwen in front of Arthur and Arthur was grateful for that since it would have been embarrassing to discuss how she dumped him.

Now Merlin looked sheepish. "I was just telling her about this troupe that arrived in Camelot for the festival," he said. "They've got jugglers and fools and acrobats, and they're going to do a big show on Midsummer's night..."

Arthur noticed the not-so-subtle attempt at changing the subject, but there was something else. He frowned.

"So that's where you went this morning," he said, pointing an accusatory fork. "I looked everywhere for you and you were slacking off with a circus?"

"No," Merlin said quickly, looking like a very bad liar. Arthur stared at him. "Yes," Merlin admitted, bowing his head. "Er. I'm going to spend the rest of my life in the stables, aren't I?"

Arthur was tempted to say yes, but for the sake of their (currently non-existent) relationship he just laughed and shook his head.

"You're not mad at me?" Merlin asked.

"Why should I be?" Arthur replied. "Maybe you found your true calling. You should join the circus, you're good at making a spectacle of yourself."

Which wasn't really a romantic thing to say, but it was all Merlin's fault for being an idiot.

---

"What's that smell?" Gaius asked, looking up from the books he was reading.

Merlin sighed and closed the door behind him. "I think it's me," he said. "Arthur had me muck his stables again."

"What did you do this time?" Gaius asked, sounding torn between sympathy and amusement.

"I was just a few minutes late," Merlin said defensively. He walked up to the basin and splashed some water on his face. "But Arthur was being insufferable today, even more so than usual."
He pushed a strand of wet hair away from his eyes, then frowned and turned to Gaius. "And he asked me about Gwen."

"Gwen?" Gaius repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought he'd given up on her months ago," Merlin said. "But maybe he's still in love with her. I felt as if there was something Arthur wasn't telling me."

Gaius gave him a stern look. "Merlin," he said quietly. "If the prince doesn't want to say anything, it's not your place to pry..."

"But it is my business if Arthur is in a foul mood because the girl he loves doesn't love him back," Merlin said. "I'm the one he likes to bully around as a stress relief."

"Then I suggest you call it an early night," Gaius said. "Get some sleep. Arthur will be less likely to punish you for lateness if for once you arrive in time next morning."

"Not you too!" Merlin exclaimed. "It's bad enough to have Arthur treating me as if I'm Camelot's worst manservant. I'm not that useless."

Gaius pretended to think about it. "Well, you did oversleep today, and the day before..."

Merlin laughed. "That's true," he admitted. "But I'm sure I'm at least second-worst. There had to be someone worse than me."

Gaius smiled at him. "I'll make sure you wake up earlier tomorrow morning."

"Thanks Gaius. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Gaius said. He turned back to his book.

Merlin closed his bedroom's door and tossed himself on the bed. He was asleep within a minute.

---

Arthur didn't sleep well. He regretted not asking Merlin for one of Gaius's potions to help with the pain in his shoulder. A couple of times he fell into an uneasy slumber, only to wake up as soon as he tried to turn in his sleep.

He spent the night staring at the darkness around his bed and thinking about his last conversation with Merlin. It hadn't been so bad that he wished to erase it from his memory, but it hadn't been too great either. Mocking Merlin might not have been very conductive to romance.

It was difficult for Arthur to admit that he might, possibly, under some circumstances, be anything less than perfect (maybe), but in this case he could really use some outside help with romancing Merlin.

The first rays of sunlight were coming in through the windows when he got out of bed, hit by a sudden idea. He got dressed quickly, trying to move his shoulder as little as he could and thinking he should definitely go and see Gaius. But that could wait, now he had something much more urgent to do.

He opened the door and almost bumped into Merlin.

"Sire," he said, looking just as confused as Arthur felt.

"What are you doing standing here?" Arthur asked, cursing inwardly. "It's barely past sunrise." Out of all days, why did Merlin have to choose today to show up this early?

On one hand, it was great to have Merlin here. Arthur liked having Merlin around, idiot as he was. On the other, this was a complete catastrophe because it meant that he couldn't execute his master plan. There was no way Arthur could tell Merlin that he was going to research how to woo him.

Merlin tried unsuccessfully to hide a huge yawn behind his hand. "I was trying not to be late," he replied. "You're already dressed," he added (rather unnecessarily). "So, er, do you want some food?"

"Sure," Arthur said brightening up. He wasn't hungry, but anything that would get Merlin out of the way. "Go get me something from the kitchens."

Merlin grinned. "I've already got your breakfast here," he said, gesturing to the table behind him. Arthur saw a large tray covered with a white cloth, and this would have been great on any other day but why had Merlin become competent today?

He wrinkled his nose. "I don't want cold food," he said. "Get me some eggs and bacon."

Merlin's smile faltered a bit. "But Arthur, you always eat the same things for breakfast, " he pointed out. It was a perfectly reasonable objection, but Arthur crossed his arms and stared at him until Merlin sighed and turned to pick up the tray.

"Take your time, I'm not in a hurry," Arthur said, but instead of walking away Merlin turned back.

"I just remembered, today I brought eggs and bacon too," he said with a grin, holding up the tray.

Arthur pulled a face. "But I never ask for eggs and bacon!" he exclaimed. "And by now they'll be cold anyway."

"No, I kept them covered and they're still nice and warm," Merlin said, removing the cloth with a theatrical flourish.

Or at least it was a theatrical flourish in his mind. This being Merlin, he accidentally dropped a piece of bacon on the floor in the process. Arthur didn't make any snide remarks about this because he was too busy staring at the food in the tray. It looked delicious and was still steaming.

"I'll get you served before it goes cold for real," Merlin said, nodding towards the door of Arthur's room.

Arthur sighed. "That's great," he said. He didn't mean to sound quite so whiny or ungrateful, but Merlin really had no sense of timing at all.

"Anything wrong?" Merlin asked.

'Yes', Arthur thought, 'and it's all your fault, you made me fall for you even though you're an idiot and now you're also being a good servant and getting in my way.'
"No," he lied.

Merlin frowned and leaned forward with his usual disregard for etiquette to give him a closer look. "Are you sure? You seem a bit pale."

"I didn't sleep well, that's all," Arthur said massaging his temples. "I took a blow to the shoulder yesterday during practice, it kept me up all night."

"Does it still pain you?" Merlin asked, concern written all over his face. Arthur nodded.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Why didn't you said so earlier?" he said, then dropped the tray unceremoniously on the table. "I'll go and ask Gaius to give you a potion or something."

"Thanks, Merlin," Arthur said with a grateful smile.

Merlin smiled back. "I'll be as quick as I can," he said before running off.

Arthur watched him disappear behind the corner and waited a few seconds to check that he wasn't coming back before heading in the opposite direction.

The library wasn't too far from Arthur's chambers and he managed to reach it without meeting anyone. However, he hadn't planned on Geoffrey being up and about at such an early hour.

"Prince Arthur," the old scholar said, rising from his chair to bow. "How may I help you?"
He looked surprised, and rightly so: it had been years since the last time Arthur had been in there.

Arthur tried to look nonchalant as he strolled between the shelves. "I'm, er, looking for a book," he said.

Geoffrey nodded and looked at him expectantly. Arthur desperately tried to think of something to tell him, but with no avail. "Which book?" Geoffrey asked.

"Well, I'm... I'm not sure exactly," Arthur replied. He glanced at the nearest tome, an old leather-bound thing without a title. This wasn't what he'd planned at all.

His idea had been to get into the library while it was empty, find the book he was looking for and get out without anyone ever knowing he'd been there. Now he was starting to see the flaws in this. For example, he doubted he'd be able to find a book titled 'How To Woo Your Manservant'.

"Could you give me a description of this book?" Geoffrey asked. "Is it a book about combat?"

"No, not combat," Arthur replied, shaking his head. There were many rolled-up scrolls along with the books. Arthur wondered if there was some way of finding out about their content without having to unroll them one by one. "More about... knights," he ventured.

Geoffrey's brows furrowed. "Something like a history of the knights of Camelot? Or perhaps a genealogy?"

Arthur had no doubt that the man knew all the books in the library and would have been able to help him, but there was no way he could ever admit he was looking for a book about...

"It's not for me," Arthur said suddenly. "It's for Morgana, she asked me to get her a book." He complimented himself for the brilliant idea that would save him from embarrassment. "She asked for something about romance. A book, er, with knights falling in love with someone and trying to woo them. Or something like that."

All right, save him from most of the embarrassment. Arthur felt his face burning up and he looked at Geoffrey anxiously, trying to figure if his lie had worked. "It's not a book I'd read," he insisted. "I'm just getting it for Morgana."

Geoffrey nodded, stroking his chin. "There are several such books in this library," he said. "Do you have any preference on the author?"

"Morgana didn't say anything about that," Arthur replied with emphasis. "Any of them will do."

Geoffrey, still nodding to himself, got up from his desk and disappeared behind one of the shelves.

"It's not often that this book is brought out," he said. Arthur heard the sound of rustling paper and books being shuffled. "I think it's a pity, the story is famous and the miniatures of this version are exquisite. But of course the King wouldn't have anything to do with it."

Arthur laughed. "Yes, I can't see my father ever reading a romantic story."

"On the contrary," Geoffrey's voice came from behind the shelf. "He was quite fond of this book. It was originally a present from him to the Lady Ygraine."

Arthur's eyes went wide. His father never talked about his mother, never even mentioned her. Arthur knew that he'd loved her dearly, but she'd died young and her father still mourned her. That was all Arthur knew about them, and it was strange to hear Geoffrey mention it so casually, to think of his father getting a present for his wife.

He was still surprised by this revelation when Geoffrey reappeared carrying a slim volume reverently in his hands. "Here it is, sire," he said handing it over.

Arthur took the book carefully, tracing the letters embossed on the cover. This had been his mother's.

"I hope the Lady Morgana will enjoy it," Geoffrey said, bringing Arthur brusquely back to reality. He had to get back to his chambers before Merlin returned from Gaius's. "It's the tale of the White Knight who fell in love with the daughter of..."

"Yes, I'm sure she'll like it," Arthur said quickly, hurrying out of the library.

Geoffrey gave him one last sweeping bow before returning to his work.

It would have been too much to hope that Merlin hadn't got back yet. Today Merlin seemed set on acting like a perfect servant, which to Arthur meant that he was being a bloody nuisance. He couldn't even yell at Merlin for being too good at his job. (All right, he could, but courtship-wise it would be a poor move.)

"There you are," Merlin exclaimed. "Where did you run off to?"

"Nowhere," Arthur lied, hiding the book behind his back. "I went for a walk. You were taking too long, I got bored."

Merlin made a face. "I was gone for a few minutes only, I was as fast as I could," he complained.

"You're still slow," Arthur insisted in his best 'because I say so' tone. "Did you get the potion?" he added before Merlin could answer back.

"Yes, kind of," Merlin replied. Arthur was about to ask what he meant by that when Merlin added, "Take off your shirt," and his brain effectively froze.

Arthur made a strangled sound that could be best be described as, "Ngh?"

He had given quite a lot of thought to Merlin after realizing that he liked him, and a good part of those thoughts involved the removal of Merlin's clothes, or his own, or both. In that regard this was a good development, so much that for a moment Arthur thought he might have been dreaming. (He probably wasn't, not unless this dream was providing him with a very realistic injured shoulder.)

Still, for decency's sake it was better to check that he hadn't misheard Merlin's words before jumping him. Arthur really didn't want any misunderstanding in these circumstances.

"Shirt?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes," Merlin confirmed. "Gaius would have come himself, but he was busy and anyway he said that not even I can mess this up."

Which wasn't exactly what Arthur had been expecting, and he thought he didn't want to have to think of his sex life and Gaius at the same time ever again.

"Gaius?" Arthur repeated. He had the faint suspicion that he was turning into a parrot but Merlin wasn't making any sense at all.

"He gave me this salve," Merlin explained, holding up a jar fill of what Arthur thought was greenish mud. "He told me to put it on your shoulder, it'll heal better than with a potion."

"Oh," Arthur said, crestfallen, and since there didn't seem to be anything else to say he took off the shirt and tossed it into a cupboard along with the book.

He had to admit (to himself, not to Merlin) that it was nice to sit back and have Merlin spread the salve on his shoulder. Merlin's fingers were nice and cool, more delicate than he would have given him credit for.

This didn't stop Arthur from being enormously disappointed at the fact that Merlin was still fully clothed.

"Better now?" Merlin asked and Arthur nodded reluctantly.

"You've got some mud on your cheek," he told Merlin. Before the other could wipe it away he reached out and smeared it across Merlin's face with a smirk.

Merlin glared at him. "It's a salve, not mud," he said, rubbing his face with his sleeve.

"Same difference," Arthur replied. "Pass me my shirt."

"Sure, where did you put it?" Merlin asked, looking around.

Arthur remembered just in time that he had the book hidden under the shirt. (He'd have to do something about these distracting thoughts of Merlin.)

"On second thought," he said, rushing to claim the shirt and push the book further back into the cupboard, "I'm still feeling poorly. I think I'll go back to sleep. Thanks for the salve," he added awkwardly.

Merlin nodded. "You're welcome. I'll be outside if you need me," he said.

Arthur didn't really fancy the idea of Merlin being outside his door at all times, ready to burst in at the most inopportune moment ever. "This shirt needs washing," he said, tossing it to him.

"But it's clean, I've just washed it yesterday," Merlin pointed out, turning the shirt around.

"No, it's not," Arthur replied. "There's, er, there's mud on it."

"All right," Merlin said. "It shouldn't take me long."

"Actually," Arthur said, "the rest of my shirts need washing too."

Merlin pulled a face. "What, all of them?" he asked.

Arthur thought about it. "Pretty much, yes."

Once Merlin had left, carrying with him the better part of Arthur's wardrobe, Arthur took the book out of the cupboard and sat down at the table.

He'd never read a love story before so he didn't have any basis for comparison, but it seemed to Arthur that the characters were all downright stupid.

The hero was a knight who fell in love with a mysterious lady in a forest and decided to abandon everything to become her champion. Arthur thought he'd have a few choice words for any of his knights who tried to ditch their prince and their kingdom to follow a strange lady into a forest.

That aside, the lady herself wasn't much better. She was a real nightmare at first, poking fun at the knight and telling him to leave her alone, but she immediately changed her mind as soon as he wrote her a poem praising her beauty. To be honest she seemed quite vain to Arthur. The book went to great lengths to describe her beauty but never said anything about intelligence.

On the whole, the story was a disappointment. Maybe it was good for those who liked that kind of tales, with rhymes and poetry, but for Arthur it was about as useful as... well, as something not useful at all.

To begin with, Arthur had no intention at all of writing a poem praising Merlin's beauty. He was bad already with prose, and anyway what was there to praise? Merlin wasn't all that good-looking. Yes, Arthur wouldn't have minded to see him shirtless, but that didn't mean anything.

Arthur tried to think of what to write. 'Dear Merlin, your ears are huge and you're way too tall and lanky. I don't think you're completely ugly. Fancy a snog? Love, Arthur.' It didn't rhyme, but Arthur doubted that was the problem here.

It sounded ridiculous even in his mind. The rest of the book was similarly unhelpful. The mysterious lady was happy to swoon over her knight, who in turn spouted more poetry. Arthur gave up halfway through and just flipped through the pages looking at the illustrations.

---

Lunch with Uther was never very entertaining, but today the King was being particularly sullen, spending all the meal in silence and occasionally glancing at the papers piled up next to his plate.

"You could at least put those away while you're eating, you'll ruin your digestion," Morgana said after Uther actually put down his fork, asked for a pen and started scribbling something on the margins of a piece of parchment.

"She's right, father," Arthur added. "You don't need to worry, my men have it all under control."

Uther looked up and glared at him. "Midsummer's night is sacred to the old religion," he said, "and sorcerers believe that it makes their magic stronger."

Morgana rolled her eyes. Arthur knew this speech by heart, having already listened to it several times in the past few weeks. "I know, father," he said as patiently as he could. "I have posted extra guards at the gates and told them to be careful with who they let through, and the patrols will be doubled tonight..."

Uther nodded his approval. "Yes, we must be extremely careful," he said. "We can't let any of those who practice magic inside the city. Excuse me," he added getting up, "I need to speak with the guards that will be on duty tonight."

"Aren't you going to finish...?" Arthur said, but Uther had already left. He shrugged and gestured for a servant to clear away his father's plate.

Morgana sighed and relaxed in her seat. "He always gets so worked up about these things," she said.

Arthur turned back to his roast pork. "You know he's like this," he said between bites. "Father's just trying to keep order."

"Yes, I know what he's doing," Morgana replied.

Arthur was surprised at the bitter tone. "Are you angry at something?" he asked.

"Why would I?" Morgana asked back, viciously stabbing a piece of potato as if she had a personal grudge against it.

"Morgana, you can tell me," Arthur said, barely suppressing a smile. He had a good idea of what this could be about.

"It's nothing, really," she said without looking up.

"Come on, Morgana!" Arthur teased. "You're terrible at keeping secrets."

"Which secret would this be?" she asked.

Arthur smiled knowingly. "I think you're angry because Uther has forbidden you to leave the castle tonight," he said. "Were you looking forward to the festival this much?"

Morgana gave a small laugh. "Yes, that's it," she said. "You read me like an open book. Oh, this reminds me of something!"

She leaned forward and smirked. Arthur's smile died on his face. Nothing good ever happened when Morgana smirked.

"It was very nice of you to borrow that book for me," she said.

"Morgana, I have no idea what you're talking about," Arthur replied. He took huge gulps from his goblet, mostly to hide his face. Why, why, why? He should have known that nothing good ever happened from involving Morgana in anything. It wasn't worth it, especially for the sake of a useless sappy book.

"Pick a better excuse, I know everything," Morgana snorted. "I met Geoffrey this morning and he told me. So, when are you going to give me the book I never asked for?"

She was still smirking in a way that was awfully unladylike, taking full advantage of the fact that they were alone and Arthur had no chance of escape.

"I, er, thought you'd like the read it," he said, carefully avoiding her eyes.

"I'm sure," Morgana smiled. "What was it called? The tale of the white knight and... who else?"

"'The Ballad of the White Knight and his Fair Lady'," Arthur replied absent-mindedly. Morgana laughed, making Arthur's face flush with embarrassment at the thought he'd actually gone and memorized the bloody title.

"It must be a fascinating read," Morgana said. Arthur stared at the tabletop wondering what the odds were that she'd choke on her wine. Failing that, he could stab her with a fork.

"I don't know, it's not my kind of book," he replied half-honestly. How many other people knew? How long before Morgana told everyone and made him the castle's laughing stock?

"I'm more surprised that you're reading at all," Morgana said. "Don't worry. I know why you're suddenly so interested in romance stories," she added.

The reassurance had the effect of making Arthur's insides squirm uncomfortably. He pushed away his plate. "What?" he said nervously. There was no way Morgana could know about Merlin, not even if she was a witch.

But then again this was Morgana, whose apparent mission in life was to find new ways of tormenting Arthur. "I think it's sweet that you're trying to do something romantic for your... mysterious beloved," she said with something that was suspiciously like a giggle.

Arthur groaned and buried his face in his hands. "You knew?"

"Come on, everyone in the castle knows!" Morgana exclaimed. "I think your father suspects something too..."

Arthur made a strangled noise. "And he hasn't told me to drop it yet?" he asked incredulously.

Morgana shrugged. "He probably thinks it's just a passing fancy. But knowing you both as I do, I think not."

Arthur didn't want to ask, but since it had come to that he had to know. "Does Merlin know too?"

"Of course he does," Morgana replied laughing. Arthur's heart skipped a beat. "I thought the two of you had talked about it."

Arthur shook his head. "I just... I don't know how to tell him," he confessed.

"Just tell him, how difficult can that be?" Morgana said in a matter-of-fact tone. "More importantly, how are you going to win her back?"

"I don't know," Arthur said, then he realized what Morgana had said and frowned. "Sorry, what do you mean?" he asked.

"Gwen has been pining for weeks, poor thing," Morgana said, ignoring his confused expression. "It's about time you did something about it!"

Arthur laughed nervously at the misunderstanding. "It's not me she's pining after," he said. He was about to explain about Lancelot when he stopped, thinking that if Gwen had kept him a secret it would be rude to tell Morgana.

Morgana didn't seem inclined to listen to Arthur. "I know that she's been pining after someone, and I know you've been pining after someone," she said with a smug smile. "I warn you, I won't forgive you if you break my maidservant's heart."

"All right, it's just as you said," Arthur said. If Morgana wanted to tease him, this was much better than telling her that he fancied Merlin. "Since you know everything, what do you think I should do?"

Morgana leaned forward conspiratorially. "What about getting her a present?" she suggested.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Is this the best you can come up with?" he said. "It was the first thing I thought of."

"And?" Morgana asked. "Did you get Gwen something?"

"No," Arthur admitted. "I couldn't think of anything that, er, Gwen might like."

"You're lucky you can count on me," Morgana smiled. "I know her better than anyone else."

Arthur didn't comment on that.
"Which kind of present would you suggest?" he asked instead. "I was thinking about flowers, but..."

"Flowers are too common," Morgana said dismissively. "Everyone always gets flowers. I always get flowers. They're nice, but they don't mean much."

"Well, this isn't about you," Arthur retorted.

"I'm not saying Gwen wouldn't like flowers," she said. "But if you want to make an impression, you've got to get her something else. Something special."

"Like what?" Arthur asked, interested despite himself.

"A nice dress," Morgana suggested and Arthur had to suppress a groan. This wouldn't be of any use to him. "Or maybe a piece of jewellery. Something in violet, perhaps, she likes the colour," Morgana added.

"Thank you for your help," he said. He pushed back his chair and got to his feet. "I've got to go, I'm very busy today."

"Like father, like son," Morgana murmured. "Will you at least keep my suggestion in mind?"

"Yes, of course," Arthur lied. "I'll, er, let you know how it goes."
He wasn't particularly thrilled about making Morgana his confidant, but it was better than keeping her in the dark and having her spy on him.

She waved him goodbye with a smug, self-satisfied grin, and Arthur felt certain that Camelot's gossip mill would soon start working. But he was glad he'd talked to her.

Giving Merlin a dress was out of question. Arthur sincerely hoped that the one time when he'd caught Merlin with a dress was just an accident. There probably was some explanation for that. It wasn't as if he honestly believed that Merlin wore woman's dresses in his spare time, not really, it was just something he'd said to wind Merlin up.

At least he hoped that was the case, because the alternative was disturbing. Or so he thought until he tried to picture Merlin in a dress, at that point he started having entirely inappropriate thoughts and had to rush back to his room and splash some cold water on his face while thinking of anything but Merlin's collarbone.

A dress was definitely out of question. Still, Morgana had a point, and Arthur only needed to think of something that would be special to Merlin. He felt confident he'd be able to think of something since he knew Merlin just as well as Morgana knew Gwen. Or so he thought, until with a pang of guilt he remembered about Gwen and Lancelot.

If Morgana was a decent person (which she totally wasn't, not with the way she'd enjoyed Arthur's discomfort about their conversation) then Arthur might have felt sad for her. She thought she knew Gwen so well but Gwen hadn't even told her about Lancelot.

Arthur wondered if Merlin kept any secrets from him. Not stupid things like skipping work or stealing Arthur's food, it was easy enough to get Merlin to blurt those out. Did Merlin have someone he like? And if he did, would he tell Arthur about it?

Sometimes Arthur forgot that Merlin was his servant and not his friend. This was Merlin's fault, since he was the one who kept ignoring the protocol and talking out of line, but he was so good at forgetting his own place that he made Arthur forget too. And now Arthur had gone and fallen for him, which only made everything more complicated than it was already.

This aside, Arthur was sure he knew Merlin quite well, maybe just not as well as he thought. Granted, Merlin rarely talked about himself. But the two of them did talk a lot. Most times it was just Arthur hurling abuse at Merlin who replied in kind. But they still spent a lot of time together. Arthur would be able to think of the best present ever before the day was over.

---

"If you could have anything at all, what would you ask for?" Arthur said.

Merlin, his arms full of Arthur's clean laundry, raised an eyebrow in his best imitation of Gaius and thought about it.

"Some help with this would be appreciated," he suggested, holding up the load in his arms. Not that he really expected Arthur to actually get up from his chair and help folding his own shirts and socks.

Predictably, Arthur just pulled a face. "It was a serious question, Merlin," he said, sounding annoyed as if Merlin was not only being inexcusably dim, but was doing so on purpose.

"Mine was a serious answer too!" Merlin complained, setting down the laundry on the table with perhaps more force than what was strictly necessary. One of the shirts on top of the pile slid off and fell on the floor. Arthur rolled his eyes.

Merlin bent down to pick it up and tried to brush it surreptitiously, hoping it hadn't got dirty. It was very delicate linen and he'd hate to have to wash the cursed thing once more. "You just don't realize how much work I have," he told Arthur.

"So if you could have anything you wanted, you'd ask to... quit your work?" Arthur asked. "Stop being a servant?"

He seemed oddly serious about it, which made Merlin pause for a moment. Arthur had been acting strange in the last couple of days, first forgiving Merlin for slacking off while on the job, then actually saying 'thank you' twice in the same day. And now this question.

It was almost as if Arthur was trying to be nice, which was a worrisome idea because it meant that Arthur was about to ask Merlin to do him some big favour. Probably something that involved lying to Uther or risking his neck or both.

"I didn't say I wanted to quit," Merlin said carefully. "Wouldn't want to be out of a job."

Alternatively, Arthur might have been enchanted. Merlin wouldn't have been averse to some spell that could make the prince less obnoxious than he was. Maybe there was something in Gaius's salve.

"Good, I wouldn't want to be out of a servant either," Arthur grinned. "Even one as lousy as you. Can't you fold that properly?"

Merlin sighed and smoothed some of the creases in the linen shirt. Definitely not enchanted to be nice, then. So much for trying to be a good servant.

"You still haven't answered my question," Arthur insisted.

Merlin chased away the first idea that came to his mind (asking for Arthur to be less of a prat) and thought about it. He had a good idea of what he'd wish for, but there was no way Merlin could mention lifting Camelot's ban on magic without Arthur starting to ask questions.

Telling Arthur about his destiny and the magic without Arthur freaking out and arresting him was very high on Merlin's wish list too, but it was better to put that off for the time being. Especially since Merlin still hadn't figured out if Arthur was angry at him or not.

Arthur tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. "Come on, Merlin, it can't be that difficult to think of something you wish for!"

On the other hand, thinking of something that wouldn't get him executed was almost impossible. Merlin settled for the first thing that came to his mind. "Then I suppose I'd ask for the evening off," he ventured.

"Really?" Arthur asked, surprised. "You could have anything, and all you can think of is slacking off?"

He sounded more amused than annoyed, or so Merlin hoped. "Today's Midsummer," Merlin said by way of an explanation.

"Yes, I know," Arthur snorted. "Some kind of pagan festival. I was busy all week, I had to change all of the patrol schedules."

"There's going to be a spectacle in the lower town," Merlin went on, "and everyone will be out in the streets..."
A sudden attack of wisdom stopped him before he mentioned that he wouldn't be able to join the celebrations because he had to attend to the needs of a certain spoiled prince.

Arthur looked at him and frowned. "You want to go?" he asked. Merlin nodded eagerly. He very much wanted to and envied Gwen who didn't even have to ask Morgana to get Midsummer's night off. Merlin hadn't even tried asking Arthur, assuming that if he asked Arthur he'd just be told that idiots didn't get time off or something along those lines.

"Sure, you can go," Arthur said, immediately rising quite a lot in Merlin's rankings of favourite people.

"Thanks, Arthur," he said grinning wildly, the pile of clothes in front of him completely forgotten. He couldn't wait to tell Gwen.

"I'll come too," Arthur added. Merlin's smile froze on his face. No, Arthur was definitely a prat. He was reaching new levels of prattishness. He was going to great lengths to find out what Merlin wanted and then ruin it for him. That was nasty, even for Arthur.

Merlin blinked. "But, er, it's just a commoners' festival," he said without much hope. "It'll be boring."

"Can't be that boring," Arthur replied with a smug smile. "You want to go. You wouldn't want to see something boring."

"I like boring," Merlin said. "Boring is so much better than dangerous. Or scary. Or deadly. Or anything I get while you're around. It's nothing to laugh about!" he added. Maybe it was funny for Arthur to fight monsters, he was the one with the shiny sword and more brawns than brains, but Merlin was the one who had to save him all the time when he got into trouble.

Arthur, infuriatingly, didn't stop laughing. "What's the problem? You wanted to go, we can both go."

"I've changed my mind," Merlin said quickly. "I don't think I want to go to the festival after all."

"Too late, I already made up my mind," Arthur said with a grin. "We're going. Make sure my red jacket is clean."

Merlin gestured to Arthur's clothes. "But I've just washed about half of your wardrobe today!" he pointed out.

"Good, you can wash the other half before tonight," Arthur replied.

Merlin groaned. This was going to be the worst night ever.


Second part.