"Merlin!"
The court sorcerer of Camelot jumped guiltily and groaned. He'd been so engrossed in the new spell he was working on, he'd failed to hear the king approach. "Sire?"
Arthur, momentarily distracted, couldn't drag his eyes from the row of potted plants hovering in mid air. "What the...?"
"Ah, a new battle strategy I'm devising," the warlock returned, managing to keep a remarkably straight face.
"Death by...flowerpot?" Arthur drawled.
The warlock laughed. "Why yes, Sire. Allow me to demonstrate." He waved a hand languidly, and several flowerpots whizzed towards the king's head from different directions, forcing him to take rapid evasive action. As the king ducked, the vessels collided with the force of a small exploding bomb, generating a shower of pottery shards and soil throughout the warlock's comfortable new chambers.
Arthur rose slowly to his feet and regarded the warlock with an expression of amazement, mixed with curiosity. Merlin coughed awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Sire, I..."
"Shut up, Merlin."
There was a long silence, while Arthur mused that this development was very convenient for his purposes. He needed Merlin out of the way for a while. Suppressing an urge to laugh, he addressed the warlock sternly. "You clearly have too much time on your hands, and I intend to put that right." He paused for effect before continuing with a malicious grin. "You will report to George at once. I believe there is some brass that needs polishing."
"George? Brass? You have got to be joking!"
"Are you daring to question your king's commands? After George is finished with you, you will go to the stables and muck out my horses...without magic. That should keep you out of trouble for a while."
Merlin stared open-mouthed, uncertain if the monarch was being serious or not.
"Oh yes, I mean it, Merlin. Now!" As the warlock trudged towards the door in disbelief, the king delivered his parting shot. "When you have done all that, you will make yourself presentable before reporting back to me. I have an important errand for you." A tremor seemed to go through Merlin, and he experienced some difficulty in holding his temper and biting his tongue. Well aware that the warlock would have loved to throttle him at that moment, the king waited until he heard Merlin's receding footsteps before doubling up with laughter.
...
Several hours later, Merlin, freshly bathed and changed, but still feeling moody and recalcitrant, presented himself to the king. He knew his feelings were irrational. After all, he himself had begged Arthur to be allowed to continue with his normal duties, but the king had insisted that as Court Sorcerer, his days of servitude were entirely behind him. So why did he feel so resentful now? Perhaps it was because Arthur had taken such delight in punishing him...and then, today of all days, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
Arthur looked up from the document he was perusing. "Have you completed all your tasks satisfactorily?" he asked.
"I have, Sire," the warlock replied, carefully maintaining a neutral tone.
Arthur quirked an eyebrow. "Without the use of magic?"
The warlock hesitated. "Well..."
"I would have expected no less," Arthur smirked. Standing up, he addressed the warlock again. "Follow me."
They made their way through the castle, with Merlin's bewilderment and anger growing with every step. He took the opportunity to berate the king for his perceived unfairness, but Arthur, unperturbed, declined to respond. As they approached the Great Hall, the guards threw the doors open, revealing the hall bedecked with festive decorations, and a lavish banquet laid out for a great throng of people. The king spoke softly in his ear. "You were saying?"
As Merlin surveyed the room, he saw that all his friends were there, and at the front, next to the queen, stood his mother. Her welcoming smile brought a lump to his throat and a tear to his eye. Feeling choked, he ran to embrace her, overjoyed at her surprise visit to Camelot. As the musicians struck up a familiar tune, he turned to the king in amazement and mouthed a silent thank you. Arthur punched his arm lightly and clapped him on the back. "Happy Birthday, my friend."
Merlin's eyes misted over again, but he responded in kind. "Will you stop doing that? I've told you that's only for knights."
"Knights, did somebody mention knights?" Sir Gwaine strolled across the room and pushed a goblet into each of their hands. Arthur raised his to make a toast.
"Ladies and gentleman, we are here to celebrate the birthday of our court sorcerer, Merlin, without whom many of us wouldn't be standing here today..."
Sir Gwaine, fearing a long speech would delay the festivities, and totally oblivious of protocol, interrupted without hesitation. He winked at the warlock as he raised his goblet. " To Merlin!" he slurred.
"To Merlin!" came the responding chorus.