Everybody was in a cheerful mood that night. The great dining hall was full of life - the long oak table nearly cascading with the fruits of the people's labor. Wild boar, pheasant, quail, baskets or bread, and pots of stew; there was so much food it was almost impossible for the people seated around the expansive spread to know where to begin. As the delicious smells permeated the air, Merlin sighed in exhaustion. He stood beside King Arthur, pitcher of water in hand, ignoring most of the dinner conversation. Actually, no - he ignored all of it, because he was so tired, he didn't think that it was even possible for him to even pay attention. His muscles still ached from training with the knights. Holding a heavy shield and supporting it under thunderous blows did that, he guessed. Despite his pleas, training always turned into a game in which the knights tried to see how long it would take each one of them to knock him to the ground. It was about as fun as it sounded. And it wasn't just that. Merlin found himself bored of mucking out Arthur's horses, polishing his armor, cleaning his room - it seemed like it was the same thing every day, nothing ever changing. Arthur this, Arthur that. What he wouldn't give for a nice long -

"Merlin."
"Er- Merlin jolted out of his trance. He looked over at Arthur who happened to be frowning at him. Merlin quickly composed himself. He wondered if Arthur had said his name more than once and that was just the first time he'd happened to hear it. He hoped not. "Yes, sire?"

"More water," Arthur said, pointing. He eyed Merlin quizzically when he didn't respond right away. Finally getting the message, Merlin lifted the pitcher, but found that he was trembling way too much and before he knew it, the whole thing had slipped out of his hands and water had spilled all over the table, of course not one drop getting in Arthur's glass.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled, unable to control himself. Yes, it was a banquet, yes, he was the king of Camelot, but Merlin's incompetence was ridiculous sometimes. "What is wrong with you?"
Merlin spluttered out an incoherent sentence. He felt like such a fool. This had never happened before. He was usually so careful at banquets - he never made mistakes like this.

"I'm just tired, my lord," Merlin said. Well, wasn't that the truth.

Arthur glared daggers at him. "Tired," he repeated.
Merlin sighed. Of course, he knew that his remark would be met with annoyance from Arthur - when didn't that happen? As Merlin went to go refill the pitcher, he wished that things could be different. He wished that Arthur didn't have to think of him as nothing more than an idiotic servant with no talent to speak of. He wished…He almost wished that Arthur could know who he really was.

But that could never happen. Merlin knew that much.

He was walking back to the dining room with more water now when he saw a girl. She was staring at Arthur in a sort of seductive manner that made Merlin a bit nervous. He wasn't really sure why. The girl - Merlin supposed that she was a servant from the visiting kingdom, something of that nature and nothing more. But past experiences caused him to be wary. He watched as the girl poured Arthur a new glass of water. When she had finished, she looked up at Merlin. It was almost as if she knew him. And then, all of a sudden, her voice was inside his head.

Emrys.

Shocked, Merlin dropped the pitcher of water for the second time that night. The girl simpered at him, her green eyes laughing. The clatter caused Arthur to look up, but not before taking a sip of his drink.

How do you know me, Merlin tried to ask, but the girl was already turning her back, leaving him standing there, slack jawed.

Arthur meanwhile, shook his head. "Idiot," he mumbled.