Boxing Day
Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Albion, heir apparent to the throne of Camelot, and the once and future king of Britain, tossed the shovel of horse manure into the cart that would take it to the fields to be used as fertilizer. Arthur stewed and muttered as he shoveled on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas. He thought Boxing Day might be fun when his father first announced it on Christmas Eve.
It was at the court gathering for the late night service of the New Religion, that King Uther made an announcement from the pulpit.
"I have recently received a Christmas Letter from my older brother, King Constans of Kent, in which he describes a Kentish custom done on Boxing Day that seems to be amusing fun. On that day, certain members of king's court trade positions with subordinates for a day. He says everyone has quite a laugh. I have decided to try it here on Boxing Day. So, instead of giving certain servants Christmas boxes, the court will give them their jobs, for a day. Here are the changes I've decided upon."
Arthur, being crown prince, heir apparent and all, thought it might be amusing to sit on the throne for a day, handing out judgments, and being addressed as 'Regent.' Only the true king could be addressed as 'Majesty.'
"First of all, Gaius is excused since he is the court physician and he may be needed in an emergency," Uther began. "The maidservant Gwen will be head librarian and Geoffrey will be her assistant. I will be a mere knight for the day and Morgana shall be acting Regent in my stead."
Oh, piffal, thought Arthur. Well, at least I get to order Father around for a day as one of my knights. That should be fun.
"And lastly," Uther continued, "Prince Arthur shall trade jobs with his manservant, Merlin."
Merlin did a herculean job of not breaking out in a very wide grin.
"WHAT?" the prince blurted out. "FATHER, YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!"
"Arthur, please lower your voice, we are in a church," Uther admonished. "And I am perfectly serious. You will do the jobs he normally does. And may I remind the court that there are to be no reprisals afterwards, by anyone."
"Sire, how long will this reversal of positions last?" Gaius asked.
"From sunup on Boxing Day to sunup the following day," the king replied.
Arthur had silently fumed through the remainder of the service. Arthur fumed through Christmas. He knew what sort of jobs he made Merlin do. He knew he was in for it. And he was right. It started at dawn with a page knocking on his door to inform him that Merlin required his services forthwith.
"Forthwith," Arthur muttered as he dressed himself in some of his old clothes. "I'll give him forthwith."
Arthur entered the court physician's quarters to find him preparing to make his morning rounds and trying desperately not to giggle.
"Do you find something amusing, Gaius?" he asked.
"No, sir. Now if you'll excuse me, I have rounds to make," Gaius replied and hurried out the door. Arthur could hear him laughing down the corridor.
"Arthur, there you are, my good man," said an overly cheerful voice from the opposite doorway.
"Yes, I'm here, Merlin. What do you want?"
"My room is a bit untidy and needs to be cleaned, so, hop to it," Merlin ordered.
Arthur walked to the doors threshold and stopped dead. His jaw dropped open as he looked around the room. Untidy? It was a horror! There were clothes all over the floor, dirty dishes on the table, and an unmade bed. This was deliberate, Arthur was sure of it.
"You did this on purpose!" Arthur said, pointing an accusing finger at Merlin.
"Arthur, this is what I often find in your room. You're my role model," Merlin answered.
"Oh, I'm not this bad," Arthur said.
"Yes you are," Merlin replied. "Now, don't forget to change the bed linen and take the dirty things to the laundry, along with my dirty clothes. You can wash them later. I'm going to have breakfast."
"What about my breakfast?" Arthur asked him as he started picking up things.
"You can have breakfast after you've finished," Merlin said. "Now get cracking."
Two hours later, as Merlin was relaxing in Gaius' comfy chair, eyeing the shelf where he hid the book of magic, Arthur emerged carrying a bundle of dirty clothes in one hand and dirty dishes in the other.
"Did you remember to sweep?" Merlin asked him. Arthur rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh, but down the clothes and dishes, grabbed a broom and went back inside Merlin's room. And Merlin smiled quietly to himself.
When Arthur finished sweeping the floor in Merlin's room, he picked up the clothes and the dishes and sternly informed Merlin, "I'm taking these to the laundry and the kitchen and then I'm having breakfast."
"Of course, of course," Merlin agreed. "But be quick about it and don't dawdle. And hurry right back." The last bit he added as Arthur stormed out of the room. Then Merlin broke into gales of laughter. This was going to be fun, no matter how miserable Arthur made his life after this, he was going to enjoy this opportunity for all it was worth.
After dumping the dirty clothes in the laundry room, Arthur went to the kitchens. He was told by a spit boy where to put the dirty dishes. Arthur then asked where he could get breakfast. The boy pointed to a large pot on the hearth and a stack of bowls. Arthur went to the pot and peered inside.
"What is this stuff?" he exclaimed.
"It is oatmeal, sir," said Aurelius, the chief cook. "It is breakfast."
"Where's my usual breakfast?"
"I was told by his majesty that you are to eat what the servants eat. And that is oatmeal," Aurelius explained.
"What did Merlin get for breakfast?" Arthur demanded.
"He was sent a tray of bacon, scrambled eggs, cold chicken and chamomile tea, sir."
"Eggs? You never sent me eggs," the prince whined.
"You never ordered them, sir," the cook replied. "Now, would you like breakfast, sir?"
The oatmeal wasn't as bad as he thought it would be after he added a bit of salt, honey and blueberries. And there was also fresh bread and honey butter, and tea to wash it all down.
Arthur was reluctant to return to Merlin's room after he finished breakfast and decided to hide. But where? Getting an idea he hurried to the library room. Gwen and Geoffrey would let him stay there.
T T T T T
"No, you can't stay here, sir," Gwen told Arthur as she walked by with an armload of books. "You are Merlin's servant today, and just as I wouldn't let him hide here, I can't let you do it. It's only fair, sir."
"Geoffrey can't you do something?" Arthur pleaded.
"I am Gwen's assistant, sir. It is for her to say," the librarian replied as he put books on a shelf.
"Besides, we are very busy," said Gwen. "I'm trying to put this place in some sort of order, sir, and I can't have you underfoot."
"Gwen, please, I can help you," Arthur begged.
"No. Sorry," she said.
Dejected, Arthur left the library and headed for his own room. He would lock the door and stay there. He would tell anyone who knocked that he was ill. Arthur open the door to his chambers to find Merlin sitting in his chair, with his feet on the table.
"There you are, my good man," Merlin said, still overly cheerful. "Now that you've had a good, sustaining breakfast, you can get down to some real work. I believe my horses need mucking out and my saddle needs to be polished." Technically, they were Arthur's horses and Arthur's saddle, but Merlin was sure the prince wouldn't mind cleaning up his own property.
"Merlin," Arthur said dangerously.
"And when you've finished that," Merlin said ignoring him, "you can come back here and muck out this place. And don't forget to do the laundry."
"Oh, Merlin, you are so going to regret this," Arthur told him.
"Remember, the king said no reprisals afterwards," Merlin reminded him. "Now, off you go."
T T T T T
So, here he was on a bright winter day, shoveling dung. Arthur had worked up a sweat in the heavy clothing he wore to keep out some of the cold. At least it hadn't snowed. When he finished, he got his saddle and a jar of wax and began polishing. As he rubbed the tooled leather, Arthur began to think about all the work he made Merlin do. He'd never considered how hard it was or how much of it there was to do. Arthur supposed he could be a bit neater around his room. He could at least throw all his clothes in the same corner. And that breakfast wasn't much to sing about. He would seriously do something about it.
When he finished polishing the saddle, the tidied the stall and headed back to his chambers. As he walked along a corridor, a familiar voice behind him said, "You there, wait a moment."
Arthur halted and slowly turned to face Morgana with a smirk on her face. "Please take this note to Merlin." She held out a folded sheet of parchment, wax sealed with her own signet. "There's a good lad," she said as he took it, then tossed him a coin. "And here's a groat for your trouble." A groat was the smallest denomination in the kingdom. Arthur could plainly hear her chuckling as she walked away.
In his chambers, Merlin was still there, sitting at the window reading one of Arthur's books.
"All done with the mucking, I see," Merlin said. "Well, have a bit of a wash, 'cause you smell. I've ordered some soup. That should warm you up."
"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur said. "That was very kind of you."
"Think nothing of it, my good man," Merlin replied cheerily.
Arthur found there was still some water in the bucket he used for washing that morning. "I almost forgot. There's a note for you from Morgana on the table," Arthur called as he cleaned himself.
Merlin find the note and broke the seal. As he read it, an evil smile played across his face.
"It seems Madam Regent would like me to dine with her tonight," he said as Arthur dried himself.
"You're not wearing any of my good clothes," Arthur said immediately.
"Don't worry, I'll wear my own good clothes," Merlin told him. "And you will be waiting on me?"
"I suppose," Arthur said as he tucked into the hot soup.
"You know, since this is a special day, Boxing Day," Merlin posed. "I think my servant should dress special too. I think he should wear the official ceremonial robes of the servants of Camelot."
"I am NOT wearing The Hat," Arthur said as he ate. The Hat was a ridiculously colorful, showy, feathery, ostentatious chapeau, that Arthur had made especially for Merlin to wear with the official ceremonial servants robes at official dinners. Everyone at court knew of The Hat. The Hat was famous.
"You have to," Merlin countered. "It part of the whole ensemble, isn't it?"
"Well, yes….but," Arthur hesitated.
"But nothing. You'll wear The Hat," Merlin ordered.
"I categorically refuse," Arthur protested, the soup forgotten.
"And I say you will," Merlin insisted.
"And I say I won't," Arthur countered.
"You will." "I Won't." "Will." "Won't." "WILL!" "WON'T!"
"I'll take it to the Regent," said Arthur. "Fine," Merlin agreed.
T T T T T
In the Audience Chamber, Morgana, as acting Regent, sat in state. Uther, in the clothing of a knight, stood to one side. Apparently, he'd drawn guard duty. Arthur and Merlin stormed in, each in a huff and began appealing their cases at the same time.
"Whoa, gentlemen, one at a time, please," said Morgana. "Merlin, you first."
"Madam Regent, I have ordered my servant to wear the official ceremonial robes when he waits on me at dinner with you tonight," said Merlin. "And he downright refuses."
"You got that right," said Arthur. "I will not wear The Hat."
"Did you not say that The Hat was part of the official livery?" the Regent asked.
"Well, yes, but that was different," Arthur said.
"Because it was your servant who had to wear it?" Morgana asked.
"Because it was Merlin who had to wear it," Arthur corrected.
"Well, now that you are his servant, I decree that you will have to wear The Hat with the rest of the outfit," she announced.
"WHAT? Father, do something!" Arthur cried. Uther had turned his back to the rest. Although that was a gross violation for a guard, Uther didn't want his son to see how hard he was laughing.
Uther faced his son. "Why do you petition me?" he asked between chuckles. "I'm just a knight."
"So that settles it," said Regent Morgana. "Next case."
T T T T T
Merlin dressed in his best clothes for dinner that night. He had kept The Hat with him to his room lest something unfortunate happen to it. In other words, he didn't trust Arthur. The servant-for-a-day met Merlin in his quarters, dressed appropriately in the official ceremonial robes of the servants of Camelot, to escort his "master" to dinner in the Great Hall.
"Here you go, my good man," Merlin said as he handed Arthur The Hat.
"I wish you'd stop calling me that," Arthur said through his teeth. The Hat seemed different to what he remembered earlier. "What have you done to The Hat?"
"It was looking a little poorly, so I perked it up a bit," said Merlin.
"You've added feathers!" said Arthur, horrified.
"Yeah," Merlin replied with glee. "I think it looks more impressive now, don't you think?" The Hat had three more yellow feathers, five more red, another brown, and two more peacock eyes. "Now, put it on. I don't want to be late for dinner."
Arthur angrily plopped The Hat on his head. Merlin straightened it a bit and fluffed a couple of feathers. "There's a good chap," he said. "Suits you." Arthur fumed.
Merlin, Arthur, and The Hat proceeded through corridors that seemed to be more active than usual at this hour. Evidently, word had gotten around the castle that the crown prince would be wearing The Hat on his way to dinner, and everyone wanted to get a look. Arthur noted that some stared open-mouthed as they passed (idiots); some covered their amused grins with their hands (you're fired), a few looked embarrassed for him (good people); two actually fell on the floor in hysterical laughter (two beheadings, check).
Besides Morgana and Merlin, the dinner also included Gwen, Geoffrey, and Gaius. Uther, who had actually taken dinner with the knights in their barracks earlier, stood guard behind Morgana's chair. It was an interesting meal. As it turned out, Arthur was the only one serving the table. There were attempts at polite conversation in between the giggles, chuckles, snickers, chortles and titters as Arthur waited on them.
Finally, Arthur had had enough and addressed the table. "Okay, get it out of your systems."
Immediately, the table erupted into loud gales of laughter and guffaws. Merlin and Gwen had tears running down their faces, Morgana was holding her side, and Geoffrey and Gaius were doubled over. Even Uther was leaning on the back of Morgana's chair, laughing.
Presently, the laughter started to subside as the diners caught their breaths and wiped their eyes.
"I'm in pain," gasped Merlin.
"Arthur, that hat is truly a monument to bad taste," laughed Morgana. "It should be enshrined."
"In all the time I've worked here, I don't ever remember that hat being part of the official ceremonial robes," Gwen giggled.
"It's not," Arthur admitted. "I had it made especially for Merlin. It was a joke."
"It looks like the joke is on you," said Uther, smiling at his son.
After that, the rest of the dinner went smoothly with Arthur serving and the occasional giggle escaping. Arthur escorted Merlin back to his room (ignoring the people in the hallways), and helped him prepare for bed. He put Merlin's clothes away in the wardrobe and turned down Merlin's bed.
"Will there be anything else?" he asked.
"No," Merlin replied. "You can go, my good man."
"Good night, Merlin," Arthur said.
"Good night, Arthur," he replied. "See you in the morning."
T T T T T
Back in his chambers, Arthur undressed himself and put on a warm robe. He put away the official ceremonial robes and was about to put The Hat away when there was a knock on his door and King Uther entered.
"Father, is there something you wanted?" Arthur asked.
"No, I just came to say good night, son. Did you enjoy Boxing Day?"
"No, I did not and you know it," Arthur said.
"I know," Uther nodded with a smile. "And there was a lot of hard work to do, wasn't there? Work that your manservant and the rest of the staff do everyday, every year without complaint….well without much complaint."
"I knew that," said Arthur.
"But now you understand what that means, because you've done some of the work yourself," Uther pointed out. "What are you going to do with The Hat?"
"Bury it? Burn it? I really don't know," Arthur answered.
"You could wear it again," Uther suggested.
"Oh, no. I'm never wearing this thing again," said Arthur. "Everyone was laughing at me."
"And that hurt your pride? Uther questioned.
"Of course it did, and there was nothing I could do about it," Arthur replied.
"Are you sure it was your pride that was hurt and not your ego?"
"What do you mean?" the prince asked.
"Arthur, when your pride is hurt, the kingdom is hurt and the people are hurt. When your ego is hurt, it's just you that is hurt," Uther explained. "A good king has to know the difference, and he has to know when to take offense and when to ignore it. Getting laughed at by your people hurts only your ego. And let me tell you, as a king, the people will laugh at you if they find the need. Oh, not to your face, of course, but they will laugh. If you can't handle that, you won't make a good king."
"I think I understand, Father," Arthur said.
"Good," Uther said and smiled. "Sleep well, son."
"Good night, Father."
Arthur put The Hat on the table and went to bed. As he blew out the last candle he decided to get a box made for The Hat. He would wear it every Boxing Day, from now on. It would be his Boxing Day Hat. But first thing tomorrow, he had to do the laundry.
THE END