Two years. Two years since his father died. Two years since he banished Gwen for her betrayal. Two years since Morgana left. And two long years, ruling the Kingdom of Camelot with Merlin at his side.

It's almost hard for him to admit, but he is ridiculously happy with his life. Arthur Pendragon is happy. Not happy because of a slaughtered sorcerer, a smile from a pretty maiden, a day off work, a plan gone well, or even a week without chaos. He's just happy. His circumstance has changed so much throughout his life that he almost forgets who he is half the time, teasing Merlin across the banquet hall instead of listening to the 'thrilling' stories the King opposite is telling him and sneaking down to the kitchen late at night for the Cooks spiced wine, but he just doesn't care. He's the King, who's going to tell him off?

Well, Merlin tries. But he's not very good. Arthur usually ends up drifting away halfway through, muttering something about going to find Gaius for a hangover cure. And it was on one of those particular occasions, when he was seated uncomfortably on Gaius's rough, wooden bench, waiting for his headache cure to take effect, when he first noticed Sir Boast-a-lot.

Dark haired and pale eyed, Sir Boast had become a regular talking point amongst the other knights, having seemingly appeared out of nowhere but somehow shaming each and every one of them in a very immasculine battle of wit, childish jibes at the helm. Gwaine had suffered perhaps the worst verbal attack, having the scars of his fathers death written across the courtyard in a few short words, and the implications of his recent conquest apparently obvious around the torn hem of his new tunic.

But Leons recent injuries had taken their toll on them all, and their sparring triumphs had suddenly dwindled to one good match a session. Arthur needed a knight, and here he was. A ready made warrior with credit to his name, and his own manservant to take care of him.

Despite having spent a night in the dungeons for his impromptu speech concerning the real relationship between the King and his manservant, he was granted an audience the next morning and went on to beat even Arthur himself in the joust. Proving himself to be worth of both sword and horse, he and his servant, John, were given accommodation in the smaller village outside the castle, a fully fledged Knight of Camelot in less than two days. Even Merlin was impressed;

'I can't believe Sir Boast beat you! No one ever beats you! And you haven't even punished him…'

'Sir Boast reckons you need a better horse…'

'I heard Sir Boast telling John that he definitely prefers the food in Camelot to Meldor…'

'Sir Boast doesn't seem to sleep much, do you think I should tell Gaius…'

And, although it took a while, and several 'gracious' apologies from John, Arthur and the Knights gradually began to accept Sir Boast as one of their own, even going as far to invite him to the tavern occasionally, and although he usually refuses, the previous night, after some firm yet gentle persuasion, he agreed to go.

Which was how he ended up sitting next to the hopelessly oblivious Arthur, clutching his head and muttering soft curses under his breath.

'So…' Arthur murmured, having finally clued into the groaning presence beside him 'good night out?' Laughing slightly at the violent scowl thrown at him, he took another sip of water and said quietly 'Don't worry, you get used to it. The Knights, meaning Gwaine, have a rule that you can't judge a person until you've seen them drunk, so unless you did what is known as a Merlin, you'll be just fine'.

A thin eyebrow was raised at his comment, and his usually effusive said painfully 'What did Merlin do?'.

'Took one swig of ale, danced on a table and fell in a chicken coop…' a tiny quirk of the lips 'He then proceeded to make his way up to my room where he fell asleep on my floor, wearing nothing but the court jesters hat…'

'Oi!' both men looked up suddenly at the interruption, regretting the decision instantly as pain exploded behind their eyes, and unable to move, let alone complain, they let Merlin continue his rant. 'Arthur, you swore you'd never tell anyone about that! It was more than one swig thank you! Gwaine forced about half the tavern down my throat, and Percival wasn't much better. Standing there all muscly and intimidating in front of the door. I had to stay! And it was your fault for making me go out with them anyway! You were all 'it'll be good for you. Talk to other people once in a while!' And I don't even remember the hat bit! You must've made it up…'

A sudden cough from Sir Boast shut Merlin up immediately as his trained eye took in the tell-tale hangover signs, and, after reaching silently for a large wooden bowl on the side, he sat down next the man, checking his eyes and pulse as he did.

A few hours later the Knights had been summoned to the castle grounds for a mid morning training session, excluding Sir Boast, who'd been ordered to sleep off the suspected alcohol poisoning by a less than impressed Gaius and an utterly shame-faced John.

But Arthur had been called away to a meeting at the last minute, so the Knights were instructed to simply warm up and await his return, but it was an unusually hot day, and many of them were still a little sore from the previous night so had taken shelter in the armoury for a while, leaving Owain on look out whilst they talked. Unsurprisingly, the talk turned Sir Boast-a-lot.

'Did you hear him last night? Mouthing off about that griffin?' 'Griffin? He told me it was a bear!' 'Yeah, well I swear he said it was a dragon! Massive wings, he said! Teeth longer than his body!'

The others scoffed at Elyans remark, muttering amongst themselves for a minute before Bedovere said challengingly; 'Where would he even find a dragon that size? Uther went and killed them all, didn't he?'

'Exactly! And did you hear what he said about the map thing? How he can tell who owned it, how long they've had it, and the route they've taken from a single look? I mean, that's impossible!'

'Impossible, no. Improbable, Sir Bedovere, yes' came a smooth voice from behind them.