It was Christmas time and the castle was busy and noisy as everyone prepared for the holiday. Merlin, of course, resented this as Arthur forced him to work twice as much than he usually did. Irritated and exhausted from the other chores he had performed earlier, he lazily assisted another servant with hanging velvet sashes on the walls.

But, as clumsy as Merlin was, the stool he had been standing on decided to tilt to the side as he reached upwards and caused him to fall over onto the cold, stone floor. He swore when he landed, the servant he had been helping (Perry... or something) rushed over to him.

"Are you alright?" maybe Perry asked.

"Yes, I'll be fine," Merlin assured, sitting up with a wince. "A visit with Gaius should be all I need."

Perry (or maybe it was Percy) nodded. "That was the last of the sashes, sir, you are no longer required to assist me."

Merlin sighed with obvious relief and pulled himself up. He sent Peter (maybe that was his name) a small smile.

"Could you tell the prince where I've gone, um..."

"Quincy," the servant replied.

(Oh well, he was close enough.)

"Right," Merlin said awkwardly.

"I'll be sure to tell him," Quincy assured before walking off.

Merlin watched the boy walk off before turning and limping to Gaius's chambers. Unfortunately, that was when he literally ran into Prince Arthur. They collided with a clang (that being the sound of Merlin's head against Arthur's chest-plate) and the injured manservant fell back to the floor. Merlin groaned in pain and held his head.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked with a raised brow.

Blinking away stars, Merlin managed to focus his eyes and look up at the prince.

"I was going to see Gaius," he explained,. using the wall to help himself up.

"Um, no, you're not. You need to polish my armor again, do my laundry, bring my supper, and prepare my bath. And be quick or I'll have you cleaning the stables," the prince threatened.

Merlin frowned. "Well, you're being more of a prat than usual."

Arthur made a face before sighing. "Arrangements for the festival had been changed. A dozen noblemen have just accepted our invitations and now we have to change the entire seating chart and cook more food for the feast, and we have to prepare more chambers for our guests to reside in. And I do have to look presentable, but that's not going to be possible if you don't do your job, Merlin," he said.

The manservant rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll do my bloody job. It's not like I'm in pain or anything, sire," he mocked and grumbled angrily to himself as he limped back to Arthur's room.

"Merlin, wait," he heard.

For a moment, the manservant felt a flicker of hope that the prat would actually let him go get some ice for his small injuries.

"You forgot my armor."

Four hours later, Merlin was back in his own room, feeling like he needed a wash as well. He had applied salve on the bruises on his head and backside (with the help of Gaius of course) and was now deciding to take a well earned nap. He had three layers of blankets wrapped around him and the fire burning downstairs provided him some heat. Merlin hated the cold. But of course, as he had just gotten cozy, his door opened and in came a rather upset looking Arthur holding out his armor.

"What, the hell, is this?" he asked, waving the objects in his manservant's face.

Merlin peered over his cover at the prince and furrowed his brows. "Uh... that would be your armor, sire," he replied stupidly.

"Yes, but look at it," Arthur practically yelled.

Merlin sat up on his elbows and took a good look at the armor. He could see a blurred smear of something he couldn't define on the side of the chest-plate. That certainly wasn't there when he had polished it. Four hours ago.

"I have no idea what that is, but it looks disgusting," Merlin replied with a squint.

For that comment, Arthur hit him upside the head. "I know that you idiot. What I want to know is why it's still on my chest-plate."

"It wasn't there when I was polishing it," he defended himself.

"well, it is now," Arthur threw the object onto Merlin's bed. "Clean it."

The manservant gave him an indignant look. "I will not! I spend four hours-FOUR HOURS-doing all those chores you told me to do and I will not spend another hour polishing your damned armor when I can be nice and warm under my covers for a very well-earned nap." And with that, Merlin covered himself with his blankets and waited for Arthur to leave. Of which, he didn't.

The prince merely sighed and pulled the blankets off of his manservant and threw them to the floor.

"Merlin. Up. Now," Arthur demanded.

And after a moment, the young sorcerer did.

Merlin didn't know why Arthur disliked him so much. Or, he assumed it was dislike as the prince constantly bullied him into what he wanted him to do. Hell, he even found enjoyment in throwing things at him. And because of this, many others often give him sympathy, and you know what? He doesn't want it! He just wishes for a bit more appreciation.

So, as he polished that disgusting smear long into the night, he looked out the window of the armory and right at a beautiful star that seemed to outshine the others. Now, Merlin was never one to believe that wishing upon a star would actually work, but he was getting desperate. He closed his eyes for a moment and uttered a quiet wish under his breath.

"I wish for Arthur to respect me a little more and maybe give a damn about me for once," he muttered.

Merlin then peeked an eye open before opening both and sighing. He felt absolutely ridiculous wishing for something out right impossible. He then returned to polishing Arthur's armor.

xxx