Once upon a time, there was a clotpole...
"MER-linnn..."
"Yes, sire?"
"Start the story properly, already."
"Yes, sire."
Arthur twisted a little in bed so that he wasn't facedown in his pillows but instead was leaning sideways on one shoulder. He fixed two steel-blue, Pendragon eyes on Merlin.
"Again."
Merlin sighed the long-suffering sigh of the prat-laden servant, and began again...
Once upon a time, there was a prince named Arthur who lived in a big castle in the land of Camelot. He was very blonde and very strong and very pratly...
"Pratly isn't a word."
"It is so."
"No, it's not."
"Is."
"Isn't."
"Is."
"ISN'T."
Merlin huffed in exasperation. "Are you going to let me tell the story or are you going to argue grammar with me all night long?"
Arthur yawned. "Story."
Once there was a prince named Arthur who lived in a big castle in the land of Camelot. He was very blonde and very strong and very, very awesome in his princeliness.
One day while bathing luxuriously in his princely, absolutely sparkling-clean quarters...
"You call this sparkling clean?"
"Hmpf. Not for lack of trying by his worn-out servant, that's for sure...Now. Are you going to stop commenting or am I going to have to quit like I have the last three nights?"
"All right, all right, I'll be quiet."
ANYWAY, bathing in his sparkly, clean quarters, he saw a vision of handsomeness in the form of a dark and mysterious warlock named Merlin.
"Oh come ON, Merlin!"
"If you get to be awesome in your princeliness, I get to be handsome. And mysterious!"
Arthur sat up, studied Merlin critically, then flopped back down.
"Fine."
"Oh! What are you doing in my royal chambers, oh warlock of handsomeness?" queried Prince Arthur.
"My voice is NOT that high."
Merlin gritted his teeth and glared at Arthur.
"I have come seeking your aid in a most terrible matter. Our kingdom is besieged by an evil knight with a horrible red nose and jingles on his helmet. Our children are terrified to go out in the daylight, and our adults are desperate to rid the town of him. This is our most desperate hour. Help me, oh princely, pratly Arthur; you're my only hope!"
"Of course I will aid you, oh warlock of ultimate Merlinness. But I need help as well. Could you polish my armor and clean my boots and shine my floor and wax my horses and cut my hair and feed me and go on all fours and..."
"I have never told you to wax my horses."
"...and save my princely hide every time I conveniently get a concussion so that you can do secret magic that I can pretend to know nothing about?"
"All right. As long as I get to cheat and do all those chores with spells."
"Psh!"
So the agreement was made. The very wonderful and blonde Prince rode out on his purebred horse that kicked all manservants in the stomach into the dangerous and dark forest, where he hunted off some poor unicorns, and into the mountains, where he stabbed poor, defenseless mountain goats, and onto the plains, where he proceeded to shoot everything that moved...
"So I can be wonderful and blonde but apparently I kill everything I see?"
Merlin smirked. "Don't you?"
"The unicorn thing, I'll accept, but I like hunting. It's fun!"
Merlin snorted. "Can I go on now?"
Arthur nodded.
Soon he arrived at the kingdom of Ealdor where the terrible and horrible knight with the red nose reigned. The amazingly royal Arthur whipped out his shiny, pointy sword, still coated in the blood of defenseless creatures...
"Oi!"
...And promptly coated it in the blood of the terrifying knight. Then he ordered the handsome and dashing Merlin to clean the sword and wash his socks and polish his boots and save his sorry...
"Whose ass is going to be sorrier here if you finish that sentence?"
...ass. And everyone was happy. And Prince Arthur of Camelot rode home on his servant-kicking horse and ate lots of meat and had clean socks forever and ever because apparently the handsome warlock Merlin decided it would be a good idea to work for him because SOMEONE had to save him from every magical thing that was out to get him. The End.
"That's it?"
"I did say The End, didn't I?"
"Ok."
"Did you like the story?"
Arthur yawned. "It needs more heroics from the handsome prince. More..." and Arthur waved his arms in the air in a lazy, half-awake, one-sided mock swordfight.
Merlin raised his eyebrows. "I am NOT doing that for you."
"I could do it. If you asked. Next time..." and Arthur rolled over on his pillows, preparing to go to sleep. "Get the light when you go, eh?"
"Yes, sire. Anything else?"
"Mm-mm."
"All right. Night, Arthur."
And Merlin left Arthur's chambers for the night, smiling because he had sort of enjoyed telling Arthur a story.
Not that he'd admit to it, of course.