Arthur was almost unstoppable. And when that same Arthur got drunk, well, you just hoped he got drunk enough to be overpowered. Which was relatively easy, Merlin had found. Arthur had never liked banquets, when old men would talk about old times and even older ways. Wine on the other hand, he liked a lot. And so during said horrendous banquets, he drank like a particularly parched fish. Merlin, who simply had to stand holding jug after jug of wine, was always the one responsible for him. Not only because it was his job, but also because he tended to be one of the few sober ones left. So when old men became drunken old men, whose stories slurred and food was hurled across the room, Merlin usually decided it was time to go. Telling Arthur this though, was usually difficult. He insisted that Morgana wasn't covered in quite enough vegetables and that he had managed to finish his goblet of wine off yet, and the only way Merlin could get him back to his chambers was by literally dragging him through the castle. This wasn't particularly difficult, but Arthur seemed to be a particularly touchy-feely drunk. And it was hard to lug someone around when they would rub every tapestry, grab every curtain and door handle and feel up half the people you walked past. Not to mention the fact he would giggle hysterically and constantly utter phrases along the lines of "Merlin, you know I love you, don't you?" Which received numerous strange looks from the random guard or servant usually walking past, and making Merlin's cheeks redder by the second. Apart from this, Arthur was relatively easy to handle when drunk, as long as he was reassured that yes, Merlin did love him too, which made him grin like a Cheshire cat. He was glad Arthur never remembered this in the morning.

However, one fateful evening when a banquet had gotten particularly boring, Arthur had insisted Merlin get drunk too, so he could be amused. He practically force-fed the wine down Merlin's throat so often Merlin wasn't sure any more liquid would actually fit into his stomach. But by this point he didn't care, given that he and Arthur were currently crammed onto the same chair, flicking food at Gwen and shushing each other whenever Uther looked their way. So drunk were the pair, that when the inevitable food fight incurred neither wanted to leave, hiding under a table together with a plate of potato and a spoon and laughing so hard they could barely breathe. By about two, they were so coated with food they decided they just had to go and take a bath together. By three, they had realised one bathtub was far too small, and decided they would just have to go to the river. By four they had realised the river was "bloody cold!" and had returned through Camelot, one shirtless and the other bootless. By noon the next day, they had realised wine was a curse and should never be drank again under pain of death. The two woke up, both in Arthur's bed; both totally unclothed save for two rings, one on either of their ring fingers. So shocked were they by this, that both sat bolt upright, hit their heads together and fell off the bed. Merlin groaned.

"Arthur? Please tell me you're wearing clothes?" Merlin asked, eyes screwed shut and rubbing his head.

"I was about to ask you the same question." Arthur mumbled from the other side of the bed.

"Why are we wearing rings?"

"Again. I was about to ask you." Arthur retorted.

"Oh my god, you don't think we could've—"

"No, no of course not. No one in Camelot would ever…. Wait a minute. Didn't we go and find Gaius last night?"

"Eh…. Yeah we did. We found Gaius and then… Oh god."

"We got married didn't we?" Arthur said, sounding as if he would do anything to make it untrue.

"Eh… a little bit, yeah."

"God. Who seriously thought we were in our right minds to make that decision?"

"Where did we even get the rings?"

"I don't want to think about it." Arthur said. He had spotted their discarded clothes in the corner and stretched out to get something to put on.

"Maybe it doesn't count?" Merlin said hopefully, still rubbing his head.

"Of course it doesn't count Merlin. You don't really think Gaius could marry us do you? I mean he was drunk, but he wasn't that drunk."

"I suppose he could have though."

"No. Not to mention the fact we're both men, and you're my manservant."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right. My father would never let two men be married anyway; you know what he's like. I don't that can even happen."

"Maybe not."

"Anyway." Arthur stood up, having found his breeches. He looked down disgustedly at them; they were dripping wet and covered in mud. "No one can ever find out about this."

"God, no!" Merlin said, as Arthur chucked his clothes at him.

"We don't mention it to anyone. Ever. Understood?"

"Completely." Merlin agreed, "You don't think we…" Merlin looked down at the bed as he pulled his shirt on.

"Well if we did, no one will ever know. Will they Merlin?"

"Not a chance." Merlin said, smiling a little.

"What are you smiling about?" Arthur asked, glaring at him.

"Well, if we're married, doesn't that make me a Prince now?"

"We're not married!" Arthur said, looking incredulously at the young boy before him.

"Alright then." Merlin said, still grinning. Arthur sighed.

"Anyway. You have to clean my chambers, wash my clothes, change my bed, polish my boots, and everything else you can think of." Arthur pulled on the closest pair of boots that weren't caked in mud.

"Yes sire." Merlin paused for a minute. "Don't you mean our bed?" He grinned.

"Get out Merlin!" Arthur said, throwing one of his boots at him. Merlin laughed and went to leave when he stopped, looking confused.

"Lost the ability to function again, Merlin?" Arthur said as he retrieved his other boot.

"Eh… you haven't seen my boots have you?" Arthur looked down at Merlin's feet as he waggled his toes.

"Do I look like I've seen your boots? I can't even find the shirt I had on last night."

"Well, I'll go get another pair." Merlin said, heading towards the door.

"Yes, you do that." Arthur said as he opened his wardrobe, pulling out a clean shirt. His stomach rumbled in time to the steady pulsating pain writhing through his head. Maybe breakfast would make everything seem better. He was on his way through the castle when he passed Morgana in a corridor. She smirked at him, making him frown, and it wasn't until they were past each other she said; "How Merlin this morning, Arthur?"

"Oh shut up, Morgana." She laughed. Arthur rolled his eyes.