Arthur sat at his desk, busy with some boring paperwork. Occasionally he would run his hand through his hair or scowl at an unfortunate inkblot. The fire and the candlesticks gave the room a flickering, orange glow, making it seem warmer than the cold night it actually was. Sitting in a wooden chair across the room was Merlin, dutifully (or as dutifully as Merlin could get) polishing Arthur's collection of boots.
Arthur stopped writing and regarded his servant for a minute. The man, for he was most definitely a man, was tall and painfully thin. Messy black hair hung in his startling blue eyes. He scrubbed ferociously at the boots, sometimes biting his lip when he came across a particularly stubborn stain.
If you had asked Arthur a week ago what he thought of Merlin he would have said "Yep, that's Merlin. Terribly incompetent, unexplainably loyal. What you see is what you get." Of course, a week ago Arthur had not been so frustrated with his manservant that he had been forced to go down to the court physician's chambers to look for him. He had not looked through a small hole in the door in order to ascertain whether his servant was there. (Arthur was not planning to 'prank' his servant. 'Pranking' is not dignified and certainly not fit for a prince.)
A week ago Arthur had not seen his manservant magically causing objects to fly around his small bedroom.
Arthur sighed and looked grimly at another inkblot. He didn't usually make this many mistakes on paperwork. He looked up. Merlin was still scrubbing away. This couldn't go on.
"Merlin."
Merlin's tousled head popped up. "Yes?"
"What are you doing?"
Merlin blinked. "I'm polishing all of your boots." This was said with more than a touch of sarcasm.
"I mean why are you doing it like that?"
"Like what?"
'Without magic,' Arthur thought to himself.
Arthur sighed. He trusted Merlin with his life. What right did he have to pry into another man's affairs? Merlin had been hiding this secret for so many years, and, to be honest, Arthur could understand why. But didn't Merlin trust him? And how was he supposed to get a straight answer out of the man?
"Merlin, if you had magic, and this is all hypothetical of course, would you tell me?"
Merlin lost the power of speech for several moments. Finally he spluttered out, "I'm sorry, what?"
"Just answer the question."
Merlin pondered it for a moment. "Um, are you talking about me, personally? Or just if I was some sorcerer?"
"You," Arthur answered, shortly.
"I, well…no, I wouldn't."
Arthur blinked. "Really? I mean, we've known each other for years. You wouldn't trust me with that kind of information?"
Merlin looked to the side. "Well, I guess, if I were a sorcerer, I wouldn't so much be worried about you. I mean, especially because of how long we've been together, like you said. And you're not really as heavy-handed as, well…I guess I would be more worried about Uther."
"Telling me doesn't mean telling Uther."
"No, but I wouldn't want to put you in a position between your father and myself, hypothetically."
"And what if I said I would never tell my father about you, hypothetically?"
"I…" Merlin seemed to choke a little. "I would be surprised." Merlin furrowed his brow. "Why are you asking all of this?"
"Oh, no reason."
Merlin gave Arthur a look that suggested more understanding than he was letting on. "Alright. Anything else you wanted to ask me?" The mischievous smile was back.
"Yes. Knowing that I wouldn't tell my father and that I wouldn't, in fact, tell anybody, if you did hypothetically have magic, would you tell me?"
"No," Merlin said, surprising Arthur again.
"No? Why?"
"Because…Because…" Merlin trailed off. His eyes were fixed on the bedroom window. "Because people look at sorcerers and magical people differently. Like they're not even people. Or that they're dangerous. Or…or…just differently. If I did have magic, hypothetically, I wouldn't want anyone to know just so that…so that nothing would change."
"I see."
"You do?"
"Yes. And, I think, if you did have magic, I wouldn't change the way I looked at you one bit."
"What? But…but you're…" Merlin spluttered, his hands white against the boots he clutched. "Why not? You've always…in the past…and…and you…"
"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, about magic and…other things. Thank you for answering my questions."
Merlin mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "Well, we wouldn't want you thinking too hard." He started scrubbing at the boots again. Arthur looked back down at his papers.
"Arthur?"
Arthur looked up. "Yes?"
"If I did have magic and I told you that I did, hypothetically, would you seriously not change your opinion of me at all?"
"Of course not," Arthur said, simply.
Merlin bit his lip and looked down, deep in thought.
"Arthur…"
"Yes?"
"I just wanted to say…thank you."
Arthur just crinkled his lips in a smile and looked back down at his paperwork.
The evening dragged on and the candles flickered. Merlin finished his final boot and Arthur added his final flourish on his papers. It was time for Merlin for leave. Instead of just letting his servant go, he walked Merlin to the door. Just as Merlin was about to go, Arthur touched his shoulder.
"Merlin, is there anything you want to tell me?"
Merlin looked at his feet. Then he looked up and smiled. "Honestly, Arthur, I think you know everything you need to know already."
"Do I?"
Merlin nodded. "Hypothetically, of course."
"Of course." And then Merlin was gone.
Arthur leaned heavily against a wall and chuckled. He and Merlin were going to have a very interesting conversation the next day.
The wind whispered around the castle walls. And, if you listened very closely, you could hear the faint laughter of a prince and his manservant.
