A/N: I was looking through some old documents, and found this. I had totally forgotten I'd written it! XD Brief one-shot about the night before Arthur's wedding. This was even before my first fanfic, My Demons Lay in Wait, so sorry if it's a bit unpolished. I didn't feel like fixing it up. :) Can be considered ad AU cause Lancelot's alive. Hope you like it! :D

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Arthur let loose his booming laughter and slammed his mug against the hard oak table, sloshing the foam lingering on its edges onto the table. He ignored the sound of Merlin, his manservant, sighing at the sight of the mess he would have to clean. Let the depressing sod stew over by the window. Tonight was Arthur's last night of true bachelorhood. True, he'd been involved with Gwen for a long time now, but tomorrow was the wedding. Arthur knew that after this night, he would be a married man. A married king, with a queen! A lovely, smart, caring, wise…

"Hey, Arthur! Try not to drool on yourself," Elyan shouted. Arthur laughed along with all the rest. Arthur had gone to Elyan about a month and a half ago to ask for permission to propose to his sister. Elyan had been delighted, offered his congratulations, and then, with a cheery grin, threatened to cleave off Arthur's manhood if he didn't treat Gwen like she deserved. Arthur had wholeheartedly assured the man he wouldn't.

And he'd meant it.

They all sat in the huge room, spread out across the rectangular table. The sounds of their drunken foolery echoed throughout the chamber. The moonlight from a single window high up the wall didn't penetrate the warm candlelight. A few servants, including Merlin, watched quietly from their respective corners. Happy to watch the amusing drunkards until they were called upon to refill mugs, or be sent on some other errand. The five most trusted knights of Arthur's surrounding the rather large table all followed suit, and guzzled down the rest of the burning liquid from their cups.

Sir Leon, who was not very well known for holding his liquor, released a loud belch into the night, and slumped in his chair, no longer conscious. They all sat in shock for a moment, their mouths formed into wordless "O's", and then became helpless to their laughter. Gwaine laughed so hard, wheezing and convulsing, his mouth wide open but with no sound escaping it, that he dropped his newly replenished mug and spilled its contents all over the oak wood table.

This time, Merlin audibly groaned.

Arthur realized that he himself was also quite inebriated as it became very hard to focus on any one thing in the room. The laughter was starting to make his stomach hurt, which made him laugh even harder. He laid his head on the table, shaking and waiting for his giggles to subside. Suddenly, a shrill sound pierced his head, and something buffeted his scalp and rushed by. Arthur yelped and flailed his arms about, losing his balance and screaming in alarm as his chair fell backwards with him in it. Arthur scrambled onto his feet, and was met with the sight of a stumble-footed Percival standing on the long table, waving his sword clumsily at the chandelier where a small bird rubbed its beak on the inside of its wing,

"Don't worry, my king!" Percival yelled, his words slurred and sarcastic, "I will protect you!" Poor Gwaine was sent into more peals of laughter, and collapsed to the floor barely breathing, tears streaming down face. Arthur normally would have been ashamed by his foolery, but he was far too intoxicated for pride. Arthur picked his chair back up, and fell into the chair, burying his face in his arms on the table and trying to slow his rapid breathing and laughter. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder and lifted him back off the table. Arthur tried to focus his vision then let out a delighted cry as he saw Merlin trying to mop up Gwaine's mess,

"Merlin! You sour, simpering sod, come over here," he hooked his arm around Merlin's neck, and delighted in his protests as Arthur proceeded to give him a deep, long noogie. Merlin wrestled out of his grasp, and smiled at him,

"Clotpole. What kind of king gets so drunk, so easily?" he said, and appearing very amused, resumed his cleaning. Arthur howled with laughter, not sure why himself,

"Oh, Merlin! How would you know? You've never drunk!" Sir Percival spoke up, having indulged himself more than all of them and sitting sideways on his chair; his massive legs dangled over the armchair. Merlin scoffed and finished sopping up the spilled ale,

"That's a lie," he said lamely. Arthur pretended to look impressed,

"You see that, gents?" he said, gesturing around then looking back at Merlin, "Merlin has drunk before. He just proved it!" This normally wouldn't have been so funny, but all the knights doubled over, anyhow. Merlin rolled his eyes with that "so above this" look, but then startled Arthur by grabbing one of the many filled mugs on the table. Merlin raised a condescending eyebrow, and without another word thrust his head back and pressed the mug to his lips. He drained the contents in four huge gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down pronouncedly as Arthur and the knights watched in awe. Finished, Merlin slammed the mug back onto the table, smacked his lips and let out a satisfied sigh, followed by a proud smirk,

"There you are. Any other challenge you want me to effortlessly conquer?"

…

Truth was, it hadn't been effortless. The sudden intake of so much alcohol left Merlin dizzy and somewhat nauseous. It was all he could do to not grab the edge of the table and slowly make his way underneath where he could puke in privacy. The knights recovered from their initial shock, and rang out with their sloppy applause.

"Bravo!" Yelled Gwaine, who had recovered enough to speak, "Bravo, indeed. Here!" he proclaimed, grabbing another mug and thrusting it in Merlin's direction, "Have another," Merlin was quite certain that his face had turned a deep shade of green. He did not feel obliged to risk losing his dinner.

"No, thanks. I should probably get back to-"

"Merlin!" Percival, who rankled a bit at Merlin's success, hollered, "Come now, it wasn't as if you were doing anything," Normally, Percival was the least teasing of all the knights. Usually, he would have seen this wouldn't turn out good for Merlin, and would have let him escape. However, Percival was roaring drunk at the moment, so Merlin decided that what Percival normally did and didn't do was irrelevant.

"Merlin," Arthur suddenly spoke up, seeing that Merlin was making no move to take the cup from Gwaine, "I order you to take the mug," he finished. He'd unsheathed his sword, and was trying to hold it steadily a few inches in front of Merlin's nose. He was obviously trying very, very hard not to laugh. Drunken prat.

"Fine," Merlin said impetuously. He snatched the mug from Gwaine, and with a herculean effort managed to down it all. Actually, it didn't taste quite so bad this time, and there was a pleasant, light-headed sensation in his skull. It was around his third and fourth helpings that Merlin realized, quite distantly, that there was no turning back now.

Merlin was vaguely aware that he was singing. He also couldn't help but notice that he was on a tabletop, though he was quite unsure of how he got there. He told himself it didn't matter, in fact, he was quite certain in a bleary, offhand way that no matter what he did at this point, it would turn out for the better. He felt giddy and perfect, and he knew the world was giddy and perfect. The other knights, including Arthur, were all laughing and hanging off each other. Percival and Elyan were both red in the face and struggling to breath as they took turns rubbing things in Leon's hair, including candle drippings and ale.

Arthur and Gwaine sang along with Merlin, and there was a shout of encouragement all around as Lancelot leapt up on the table to join him. The two shouted with joy at each other, and locked arms to perform an on-the-spot dance routine. Merlin was having a grand old time when Lancelot's leg seemed to tangle around Merlin's ankle, and he felt himself begin to fall.

Well, in his current state, the solution to his problem was obvious. Teetering on the edge of the table, arms flapping wildly like a falling chicken, Merlin pushed off with his foot and went soaring in the direction of Gwaine's back. He shouted gleefully, and enjoyed the moment of weightlessness just before landing piggy-back style on Gwaine's back. Gwaine let out a loud "oomph!" and just managed to remain standing from the sudden collision. Though he wasn't sure why, Merlin found this very amusing as Gwaine hoisted Merlin farther up his back, responding to the situation like a truly trained drunkard.

"Charge! Thou shalt fall ye mighty foe!" Merlin yelled, pointing over his own shoulder in the direction of the door. Gwaine, all too happy to play along, turned around, laughing and with a helplessly giggling, quite intoxicated Merlin riding on his back. His face then colored with a fear he wouldn't have dared show in front of bandits, Morgana, or death himself.

"Gaius!" he exclaimed, seeing the old physician standing disapprovingly in the doorway. Gwaine frantically released his hold on Merlin's legs, and the young manservant fell to the floor with a loud high pitched yelp and a grunt of pain.

"Oi!" the inebriated boy shouted indignantly. Gwaine pinned his arms against his sides and bowed deeply to Gaius. Staring at the floor and without moving, Gwaine lifted one arm and pointed in a random direction,

"Percival did it! He made Merlin drunk!" Percival yelled some blustering, incoherent denial, which sent Merlin into ridiculous peals of laughter. Gaius's face was a simple mask of slight "aboveness" and mild irritation. One of his eyebrows was raised alarmingly high.

"Oh, don't mind me," he said loftily, then gestured slightly at Merlin, "just make sure he wakes up in his own bed in the morning," Gwaine, whom Merlin could see from his view on the ground looked disturbingly pleased, lifted both his thumbs, still bent over, and nodded his head vigorously at the floor,

"Will do!" Gaius rolled his eyes, and then left. Merlin, with the sudden desire to be spontaneous, reached his hand inside his jacket, sat up, and then pulled his arm out with a flourish, a swarm of bright, white butterflies appearing from nowhere. Merlin made a mock astonished face, and fell back to the ground, suddenly dizzy. Apparently, magic didn't mix well with alcohol. Merlin craned his neck to see the lovely little things escaping through the high window, where the bird had come from earlier, and then left through after Percival's attempts at "felling" the beast. Merlin was surprised to see Arthur, his mug raised dramatically towards the butterflies in a kind of salute, was sobbing and yelling,

"Go! Be free!" Merlin would later say that he laughed so hard he lost consciousness.

…

When Merlin woke, he felt as if Arthur had been obliged to let the knights practice jousting for a day with his head as the target. Not daring to open his eyes, Merlin felt around, and was relieved to feel the scratchy sheets of his own bed. But, why did he have such a blasted headache. Had he been poisoned, again? Where was Arthur? Suddenly panicked, Merlin jolted awake and immediately cowered back under his covers as the light singed his eyes and made his stomach roil.

"If you don't get up soon, you're going to be late," a voice, Gaius' voice, stated in a matter of fact sort of way. Merlin didn't feel up to words quite yet, so he just let out a soft moan. Merlin could just feel Gaius' eyes as they gazed at the heavens.

"Merlin, did you hear me?" Merlin wished Gaius would just leave and let him wallow in his misery,

"Ugh. Late for what?" he said, hoping to get his guardian out as soon as possible.

"The wedding, of course," Gaius said. Merlin might as well have been struck by lightning, the way he jumped and scrambled to his feet.

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A/N: Soooo, did ya think it was funny? :D Please Review and tell me what you thought!