Arthur doesn't know who brought out the strong spiced wine after all the older noblemen and -women retired; he has half a mind to banish them to the stocks for causing the current mayhem in the banquet hall.
Said mayhem is presently attempting the jig with Guinevere and failing miserably. Arthur rolls his eyes as the mayhem — yes, Merlin — laughs, braying like an ass as he nearly topples to the floor, bringing Gwen down with him.
Arthur ought to put a stop to this, the raucous singing and dancing going on, but rarely do servants, squires, knights, and dainty young ladies (not Morgana) ever forfeit their status for a night of merriment. And earlier, Merlin had made a fool of himself dancing with the Lady Isabelle; when ever would Arthur get to see a sight like that again?
Merlin, sweaty and flushed, reedy arms and legs all over the place, hair a wild mess and those bloody ears — Arthur snorts as the admittedly sweet sounds of Merlin's (braying) laughter and song float over to where he's standing, leaning against a wall far away from any wily hands conspiring to draw him into the fray.
Gwen throws her arms around his buffoon of a manservant once the jig finishes; Merlin hugs her back, tender and affectionate as he's never been with Arthur (and Arthur will be bringing this up with him later tonight — let's see how gentle he is with Arthur when he's half gone on wine). Gwen pecks Merlin on the forehead and leaps into the next dance. Merlin fondly watches her let her hair down with Sir Leon, and thankfully turns down the next offer he gets; Arthur might have combusted from secondhand embarrassment on his behalf otherwise.
He's smiling to himself at the thought of Merlin stumbling into a bunch of people in his miserable attempt to move his body rhythmically — well, not that kind of rhythm — when a voice stirs him out of his reverie.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Merlin asks in a drawl, grinning and leaning against the wall next to him. It takes a minute for him to cool down.
"You are awful at dancing, really," Arthur says. "Like the Giant Squid floundering on land."
"I keep asking you to teach me, but you're the one who never obliges, my lord."
"I don't want to deprive myself of the spectacle you create throwing yourself at everything with two legs, that's all," Arthur retorts, avoiding Merlin's keen, amused gaze.
"And I s'pose I wouldn't get to see you so jealous."
"Jealous," Arthur scoffs, but he's already curling his fingers around Merlin's and holding on tight. "As manservant to the prince, you belong to him and everyone knows it."
"Except the prince himself, sadly," remarks Merlin.
Arthur throws an annoyed glare his way, but Merlin merely pulls him into a hug, far more affectionate than the one he'd given Gwen, not that Arthur would admit it. "No one's watching," he whispers. "Please let me."
So Arthur doesn't bother to struggle and allows Merlin to sway them side to side, completely out of step, in their private little world. He sighs as Merlin grows steadily clingier, and when Merlin undergoes the natural conclusion to a night of immoderate drinking, he simply brings out a handkerchief and wipes his mouth with it.
No eyes track their exit from the hall; no eyes see Arthur's arm secure around Merlin's waist as Merlin ambles beside him, his head resting right over Arthur's heart.