A/N: Most of the time, I like to steer far away from something as non-canon as this. But I thought, hey! What the heck! Besides, it was a muse taking over, and I had no means of fighting back. So, anyways, please enjoy this entirely uncharacteristic (for me as a writer) oneshot!

...

Merlyn stared with mindless, abject horror at the sight in front of her.

The shirt was caked with an unimaginable assortment of grime. A mixture of what looked like mud and dung and sweat somehow stunk as if it was much, much more was now seeped into what once had been a light, cotton jerkin.

What little hadn't dried into an unmovable paste was dripping onto the floor in a steady rhythm of sickening splats. The dried clumps of filth had gathered up the folds of the fabric, creating the illusion that it was now about half as long as it had once been.

Astonishingly, Arthur managed to maintain a semblance of arrogance as he stared defiantly back at his maidservant. He looked awful, sweaty strands of his hair plastered to a dirt-obscured face, where blue eyes shone daringly through the black mud, and red, flushed skin. Scratches and cuts littered his filthy arms and torso, as well.

"What?...How?...You?...What the hell did you do?!" Merlyn struggled to shriek through her frustration, hands balled into fists at her sides, visibly shaking.

Arthur thrust the shirt forward, and Merlyn spotted inflamed, puckered flesh on his palms, recognizing what would be very many nasty blisters in the morning.

"I need you to clean this," he said, "I'll need it for training in the morning."

Merlyn was aghast, and scoffed, staring at him incredulously,

"It's midnight!" she cried, sweeping her arm to indicate the fact that they currently stood inside her chambers, bathed in the dark of night, save for the small candle flickering sappily at her bedside. Moonlight filtered in through the lone window on the wall to her right.

And then, realization dawned upon the both of them.

What little light there was illuminated Arthur's topless form, causing shadow beneath every protrusion, and penetrating the complicated crevices of his physique. His trousers were weighed down with moisture, slipping past one side of his waistline to expose the skin of his hip.

Merlyn felt the heat crawl up her neck and radiate from her face and the tips of her overly-large ears, and she saw a similar effect come over Arthur, whose eyes suddenly went wide with embarrassment, no longer staring at her face.

Merlyn let out an involuntary squeak and turned her back on him, crossing her arms over her chest, where the thin fabric of her nightdress blew against her frame from the cool, gentle breeze whispering in from outside.

Overcome with humiliation, Merlyn stuck her hand out behind her, and waggled her fingers expectantly,

"You'll have it by morning!" she choked out.

"Y…Yeah" Arthur said, his own voice emanating discomfort. Merlyn fought not to flinch as he plopped the disgusting garment into her open palm.

An awkward silence passed.

"Get out," Merlyn said.

"Yep," Arthur replied hastily, and Merlyn heard him cry out a bit as he stumbled his way from the room, accidentally running into her dresser in his desire to flee.

The door closed behind him with audible enthusiasm, and Merlyn groaned in her despair, falling face forward onto her mattress, and moaning into her pillow.

...

A/N: So...yeah. Don't know where that came from. But! Tell me if you liked it. :D Honestly, I had a lot of fun. XD Would you like me to do a second part to this, showing it briefly from Arthur's perspective? Thanks for reading!