As soon as he heard the words "garland competition" fly out of Merlin's mouth, Arthur knew it was going to be one of those days.
Waking up on the cold floor in a tangle of sheets and his manservant's neckerchief in his mouth wasn't Arthur's notion of an ideal morning. Lately, Merlin had been getting more and more creative in his methods of rousing Arthur. And Agravaine was smirking more than usual, which never meant anything good. By the time Arthur pulled on a fresh shirt, he was convinced some changes needed to be made in his administration.
The speech on polishing armor was dull. Arthur was certain Merlin had composed it just to bother him.
"You're awfully jolly," Arthur accused, still rubbing sleep from his eyes while Merlin bustled around his room like a demented dragonfly, fetching his robes and ceremonial sword in a flurry of motion. If he shuffled his feet any faster, Arthur was convinced Merlin would lift off the ground.
"Don't tell me you aren't looking forward to the contest," Merlin drawled, passing a neatly pressed shirt behind the screen to Arthur. "Everyone's worked really hard on their garlands – the least you can do is show some support. They're your subjects, Arthur; let them see how much you appreciate their creative efforts."
"At least I'll be spared from your creative efforts, Merlin," Arthur replied in a self-suffering manner. Shouldn't he have better things to do like, oh, run the kingdom? But with a sigh, Arthur supposed Merlin was right yet again (which irked him to no end). He did love his people and if being thoroughly interested and involved in the feast preparations meant judging a garland competition as well, then so be it. Arthur wanted to be a good king – he wanted to connect with his people. This was just another step to achieving the rapport he had always wished for.
Merlin gave him a funny look as Arthur stepped out from the screen.
"What?" Arthur asked.
"I've entered the contest too, Arthur."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, "You are such a girl, Merlin."
Merlin looked slightly offended and draped Arthur's red cape over his shoulders with a little too much force. The two walked side by side on the way to the large audience chambers, Merlin reading off a giant scroll of rules and judging guidelines (what to look for in a nice garland). Arthur stored the information away but told Merlin to shut up after the twentieth pointer.
Ten garlands were artfully draped over ten wooden chairs to display their lovely leaves and trimmings.
"The people made these garlands?" Arthur asked Merlin from the corner of his mouth.
"Well, the people in the castle did," Merlin replied. "The villagers don't have time to make garlands, Arthur." He didn't roll his eyes, but Arthur knew could hear it in his voice.
"Oh and I suppose you've somehow found time to do one? No doubt you've been shirking your duties while you design fancy arrangements of ribbon and leaves and other girly things."
Merlin huffed and bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the insult. He'd wait until they were in private.
"Well then, let's get started," Arthur said, taking a seat on his throne. Merlin hovered beside him and the court fell silent.
"Good morning," Arthur began. He cleared his throat. "Um, thank you all for applying your creative energies into such nice decorations. The feast hall will look great, I'm sure, with these garlands. The winner will…" He paused and motioned to Merlin who unfurled the scroll again and pointed to a line of Merlin's chicken scratch. "Have their garland hung on the table of the royal family." Arthur paused and drew his brows together. Royal family? There was no more Morgana and no more Uther, so that left an awkward dining experience with Agravaine. Great. Arthur added this to his list of why this day was going to be the most awkward one of his life.
Clearing his throat again, he continued. "I shall judge the garlands according to their aesthetic appeal and their scent." Scent? Arthur glanced at Merlin and Merlin indicated a subscript on the scroll – yes, the garlands were in fact scented. "Oh great, I have to smell these things too," Arthur mumbled to Merlin. Merlin gave him a sympathetic smile.
Arthur motioned for the first garland to be brought forward for his appraisal. It was made of pine boughs and the scent was pleasing enough. Arthur frowned at the yellow ribbons knots along the garland. Whoever had tied those must've had swollen fingers or something – probably a kitchen maid or a squire, Arthur assumed. He noticed several red and orange things were sticking to the garland, held on by the sap of the branch. Arthur grimaced and moved onto the next garland.
It was … erm, dead. Or burnt or something. Gold coins were tied all over the garland. It had a smoky scent to it and Arthur was certain he wouldn't want something like that hanging at the front of his dining table. It was rather charred. He poked it and a little piece crumbled away beneath his finger. No, definitely not a winner.
The next garland was made of cedar and it smelled wonderful. Red and blue fabric had been tied onto the garland at irregular intervals, giving it a rather tacky look, actually. Arthur snorted. But there was something about it… Arthur couldn't quite lay his finger on it.
Arthur frowned at the fourth garland entry. It wasn't even a garland. A heavily scent of alcohol clung to it and there were upturned tankards and bottles stuck onto the little twigs that jutted off the main branch. How this managed to pass as a garland, Arthur hadn't the slightest idea. Just the sight of it could put a man under the table. Merlin, who was hovering over Arthur with the scroll of instructions (should the king need reminding), looked a bit green in the face.
Arthur liked the next garland. It was made of yew boughs and had small, decorative ornaments attached to the branches in purple, yellow, and teal. Arthur leaned in to sniff it and pulled away immediately. It was not something he was keen to dine in the vicinity of. Whoever had constructed that garland must have dragged it through a pit of charcoal or manure.
The next garland looked plain creepy. It had been slicked down with some sort of paste or gel, making the leaves black and shiny. Arthur wasn't keen to hazard a guess as to the identity of its creator. Agravaine coughed in the crowd and Gaius took a hasty step away.
Garland number seven was made with flowers and … colored bottles. "What is this?" Arthur asked quietly, holding up one of the bottles. The bottle was attached to the garland with a string and held a blue liquid - Aconite. Merlin shrugged, "I most definitely wouldn't use it to flavor your lunch, sire."
Arthur raised an eyebrow and set the bottle with its string back down. Whoever had made that garland had no concept of the word dangerous potions in reach of small children and inquisitive manservants. But it was colorful. Arthur liked colors.
The next garland was a log. A huge log. A very, very heavy looking log that had nails pounded into it in some sort of pattern. Alright then. Maybe he could hang pictures from the nails? Arthur nodded to himself. It had a certain beauty all to itself.
Garland number ten was covered in feomorroh snakes. "What the hell is this?" Arthur asked.
"Sire, that one was delivered to the castle during the night."
"I see…"
Nodding carefully, Arthur returned to his throne to think. The court members looked appreciatively at the array of garlands and the knights flanking the room watched the king as he made his decision. Merlin hovered near Arthur, passing him the scroll, but remaining silent. Arthur needed to concentrate. This was a tough decision to make – tough in the sense that none of the garlands were very… Arthur grunted and squinted at the list.
Which garland should he choose as the winner? Minutes passed and still the king had not made up his mind. The court was growing restless when finally, Arthur rose.
"Third place shall be awarded to the garland with the colored bottles. It shows creativity and the use of colors is nice."
Gaius stepped forth and bowed deeply. "I am most grateful, sire."
Gaius? Arthur plastered on a smile to hide his misgivings at the implications of the dubious bottles.
"Erm, it's splendid, Gaius."
Arthur glanced around the court again. Who else had entered the competition?
"Second place goes to the garland with the yellow ribbons," Arthur announced, a little warily. "It was prepared with care and it smells nice."
"Yes!" Sir Leon darted forward, bowing. Arthur's smile faltered.
"You made this garland, Sir Leon?"
"I did, sire."
"It's excellent."
"Thank you, sire," Leon replied sincerely. He stood off to the side near Gaius grinning proudly. Arthur gave him a funny look and shook himself.
"First place goes to the red and blue garland. It's intriguing and the choice of material was well made." No one stepped forward. "Don't be shy," Arthur said.
"Sire?" Merlin tapped his arm. He had stepped forward, but the king hadn't noticed.
Arthur turned a blank face towards his manservant. "Y-you?" Merlin nodded. "Uh, congratulations, Merlin." Turning back to the court. Slightly strangled, "Merlin is the winner."
There was a round of applause.
For the rest of the night during the feast, the garlands were displayed around the hall. Merlin's garland hung at Arthur's table. Gwaine looked utterly dejected that his garland hadn't placed, and Gwen and Elyan looked rather disappointed that their joint garland hadn't won. ("I knew we shouldn't have made it in the forge! All that smelly coal, Elyan, what were you thinking?") Agravaine refused to speak with Arthur for the duration of the feast and the king noticed that his uncle had applied extra gel to his hair for the occasion. Gaius was allowed to eat at Arthur's table since he was an esteemed member of court and somewhat of a fatherly figure to the king now that Uther had passed on. Merlin stayed by Arthur's side thorough the feast, silently pleased that Arthur had chosen his garland. But in the back of his mind, Merlin could hear Kilgharrah bemoaning his own loss. ("The coins, Merlin, they were symbolic. How could he not see his destiny in that garland?")
The garland with the snakes was tossed out the window and later that night, a great thunderstorm blew up. In Arthur's chambers.