A/N: This story takes place right after 5x04, where Merlin rescues Mithian and the team. Slightly AUish I would say.

Chapter 1

"Are you listening, Arthur?"

"Hmmm? Of course, Guinevere."

"Oh? And what was I saying exactly?"

Arthur glanced around the dining hall, which was currently in a cacophony of drunken knights, disapproving advisors, and an amused royal father and daughter, all celebrating their recent victory over Morgana's latest plot to overthrow Camelot. In the midst of this clamor sat his clumsy, incompetent, maddening servant, Merlin, who at times seemed both flustered and pleased. He sat at the dining table for perhaps the first time in his life, right beside Princess Mithian—a seating arrangement that elicited a perplexed frown from King Arthur.

Shaking his head slightly, Arthur forced his brain to think of whatever may be the most recent concern of his lady wife. With a rotating hand drawing his thought from the air, he said, "I'm sure whatever color you choose for your Samhain gown would you suit you quite well."

Guinevere stared at him for a beat.

"Or…maybe this is where I shut up, apologize, offer you a day of romantic escapades with just us, and ask you to graciously repeat yourself to my undeserving clotpole ears?"

She smiled. "Clotpole?"

"Courtesy of Merlin's wordsmith prowess. I'm quite honored actually: he has a whole list of words he uses just for me. I swear most of them he made up, but he insists they are idiomatic, whatever that even means. I mean, how does a servant even know that word, much less how to use it in a sentence? I must speak to Geoffrey to corroborate its existen-"

"Arthur," Gwen said, indulgently. "Actually, Merlin was who I was talking about."

At that, Arthur looked at her with his full attention. "Oh?"

"Yes. I mean look at him." The two royals turned their heads toward their current topic of interest. Merlin was whispering something to Princess Mithian. In a rather too familiar way, Arthur thought.

Gwen continued. "This is the first time I've seen him enjoy a celebration rather than serve at it. And sitting next to our guest of honor…from everything you told me, and from what I've heard about his heroics in the past few days, not to mention his unwavering service and loyalty to you for all these years, perhaps it is time we should consider a change in his position."

But at this point, Arthur was no longer paying attention, as he had just witnessed Princess Mithian unashamedly giggle at whatever Merlin had said, surreptitiously touching his hand.

Arthur had to stop himself from gaping. "Do you see that? How, how is that possible? She, she looks like she may be…" Arthur shuddered, "Flirting with him."

Gwen giggled. "So?"

Arthur looked at her like she had turned into a troll right there and then. "So, he's Merlin."

Gwen sighed, perhaps a tinge too wistfully. "I can see the appeal," she said, with a little secretive smile.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at her. "Is there something you need to tell me about my servant, Guinevere?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Only that he has certain…qualities that appeal to the fairer sex."

"And what exactly are these qualities and how would you know about them?"

"Come now, I've been his friend for awhile, and I've seen this castle as both a servant and royal. Nothing much gets past me. There's been many a servant girl and noblewoman alike who turn her head when he walks past."

"Are you sure we're talking about the same person?"

"And beyond that, it's his kind heart, generous spirit, astonishing bravery, and sharp wit that's gotten him a whole host of admirers."

"You can't be serious…" Nonetheless, Arthur took the moment to study Merlin further. He had certainly filled out his baggy, well-worn clothes in the past few years, his shoulders broader and his arms wired with a quiet strength. Princess Mithian sure seemed to notice this increased definition, her hand lingering on his bicep or chest at points of emphasis in her story-telling.

And Merlin had improved in the training field, Arthur admitted begrudgingly. He was no longer a rather amusing target, but a man who could hold his own in a round, at least for a little while before Arthur turned his full strength on him. I suppose after all these years he could not help but soak up some swordplay techniques, but exactly when did this happen? Arthur wondered. How did he go from cowering fool to cutting down a man about to take Arthur's life without so much as a hitched breath?

The man had always been brave, Arthur would give him that. He had called out Arthur the very first day they met, despite the fact that Arthur was fully armed and a stone heavier. But Merlin had been brave and seemingly weak, and now he was what? The hero of the day? Maybe this was what was really bothering Arthur. He was used to being the savior, the one whom people turned to for help, the one whom people heaped praises on. Tonight, however, Mithian was clearly showing her appreciation to Merlin, and multiple knights had walked over and clapped him on the shoulder, offering him a toast. There was clear pride in Gaius's eyes, and even King Rodor, the princess's father, looked at him with an inquisitive appreciation. God, he already had the king wrapped around his finger...

"Perhaps there is more to my servant that I realized…"

"Yes, and that is why I think we should offer him—"

But Arthur's attention was once again elsewhere. There was something that had inextricably shifted in this last mission. Some new understanding, that was at once shocking and oddly familiar. Unexplainable circumstances explained by an unbelievable amount of luck. And they only seemed to happen when the servant was around. How in the world had Merlin survived all these years without a piece of armor or sword to his name? And what is with all of those falling branches that just so happen to save them at the most opportune time? Or God, the cave-ins? So many cave-ins. And don't even get started with the Dorocha incident or the perfectly timed earthquake or…or his unworldly wisdom. How does a servant, especially one as young as Merlin, obtain a wisdom that could make even the most accomplished scholars jealous?

Merlin had always seemed the weakest of them, and yet he had faced the toughest of foes and most impossible of circumstances without blinking an eye. At those moments, he walked with a confidence that bespoke a powerful man, unfazed and determined. Many a time, he had been the one that pushed Arthur, the best swordsman in the kingdom, to face the unbeatable enemy. Arthur had marveled at that bravado. And yet, it wasn't bravado. Merlin's was a confidence that expressed a surety that one only saw from someone that had supreme mastery in a skill, such as a fine-tuned warrior or an innate virtuoso. That made no sense, however, considering that there wasn't a tree root in existence that didn't defeat Merlin in a battle of positional supremacy. He just didn't have any skills that could justify such unerring confidence. Though the juggling was rather impressive, Arthur duly noted.

Something didn't add up. The events of the past few days had brought Merlin's enigmatic qualities out in full display. Merlin was a puzzle that Arthur had been unable to solve all these years. Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin. But, he had never turned his full attention to it either. Princess Mithian would not be the only royal watching a certain manservant closely.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I was inspired but how adorable Merlin and Mithian were in that episode. I mean, isn't it a little crazy that she instinctively went to Merlin for help, instead of Arthur, the "save the world" type of guy, as Gwen would say? I was also quite dissatisfied at how little the characters acknowledged/appreciated Merlin's quite impressive heroics and decided that need to be remedied! More coming up - perhaps even from Mithian's POV!