Summary: While Merlin and Arthur are visiting Ealdor, Arthur agrees to help with the manual labor. He regrets it instantly...
"It's not going to kill you, Arthur," Merlin coaxed. "Hard work breeds a harder soul. It's a proverb."
"There is no way in hell that's a proverb. You just made it up."
"I didn't, actually." Merlin grinned. "Everyone here does it all the time."
"They're peasants," Arthur pointed out petulantly. "They're meant to do this kind of work. I'm a prince, I'm meant to manage the people and kill things that pose a threat to the kingdom."
"You could use a sword, if it would make you feel better."
Arthur glared. Merlin raised his eyebrows innocently. "What? Think of it as... getting rid of a threat to what feeds your kingdom."
"Merlin, this isn't even my bloody kingdom! We're in Escetia if you hadn't noticed! And I hardly think toiling in the sun all day with nothing but tiny green fiends as an enemy is going to help feed anyone. What is the point of it, anyway? It's not bothering anything! I'm starting to think half the work peasants do is to ward off the boredom in their life, and has nothing to do with actual necessity."
Merlin went into a long, exaggerated coughing fit, throughout which Arthur thought he heard words like "Round Table," "equality," and "hypocritical prat."
Arthur kicked the dirt gloomily. "Look at this. There are loads of things growing. If they're growing anyway, what's the point?"
With the kind of patient tone used with children, Merlin said, "Because they steal the nutrients the plants need. And they could choke the actual vegetables if they aren't taken care of."
Sighing and groaning, Arthur spent the next half hour stooped over in the garden, the blood rushing to his head so he stumbled every time he stood up.
"I hate weeding," he mumbled when he'd finished five rows.
"Yep," Merlin agreed, "only forty more to go."
This story is a manifestation of the thoughts I had while forced to do some weeding earlier. My mother insisted it "builds character." Indeed. Especially since the garden was so muddy I almost sank to the core of the Earth. It was kind of a life-and-death situation. Now, I don't find the activity nearly as horrendous as Arthur, but I decided I might as well torture him this way. :)