Morning dawned over Camelot as a gangly, dark-haired young warlock strode whistling through the castle. The day promised to be a good one. Or, at the very least, it promised to be better than the last one, which, Merlin had to admit, was not actually all that hard.
The previous day still ricocheted around his head in the form of what Merlin suspected was a mild concussion. As often happened, some disgruntled fellow had dreamed up a hare-brained plot to murder the king, Merlin had gotten wind of it, and magic had made its inevitable-and highly illegal-appearance. The only thing Merlin had to show for his involvement was an obnoxious ringing in his ears. Nevertheless, he grinned and whistled as he walked to work. King Arthur remained safe due to Merlin's magic, and Merlin's magic remained secret due to his own exceptional skill and discretion.
Or so Merlin liked to tell himself. The truth was that Merlin's magical escapades remained secret mostly because of Arthur's continued belief that his manservant was an incurable drunkard who spent most of his free time, and a good deal of his other time, in the tavern. Merlin never understood why his guardian, Gaius, chose to explain his charge's absence to the king in this manner, but it worked, so he let it be. He only hoped Arthur would not decide to punish him by throwing things at his aching head.
Merlin opened the door to Arthur's chambers and stuck his head in, ready to withdraw should any projectiles be forthcoming. No heavy objects came hurtling towards him. He took this as a good sign and stepped all the way inside. Arthur stood at the window, back to the door, fingers drumming pensively on the pommel of the sword hanging at his side.
"You're dressed," Merlin observed, stupidly.
"Yes, Merlin." Sarcasm laced the king's voice, but his face expressed little as he turned to confront his servant. "I'm not completely useless. Although," he continued pointedly, "I do know some people who fit that exact description."
"Well." Merlin attempted a chuckle. "I'd hate to be them."
"Yes. I would too."
Arthur stepped slowly towards him and Merlin braced himself. When no blow fell, he cracked one eye open and peered up at Arthur. He decided not to push his luck and bit back several smart comments, opting to meekly await any further admonition.
"All right, spit it out. Where were you yesterday?" Arthur spoke quickly and Merlin knew he expected a quick answer. Unfortunately, it was always difficult to determine how much Arthur knew or might suspect. Merlin decided to play for time.
"What, Gaius didn't tell you?"
"Gaius told me that you were in the tavern."
Merlin sighed. At least it wouldn't be too hard to fake a hangover today. "I wish I could deny it," he began dramatically, "but Gaius was absolutely-"
"I sent Gwaine to fetch you," Arthur interrupted. "You were nowhere to be seen."
"Well," Merlin spluttered a bit, struggling to think on his feet, "you know me. Can't hold my ale. Went home pretty quick." He attempted a rueful grin.
"The bartender said you hadn't set foot in there all day."
Totally confounded, Merlin stood with his mouth slightly agape.
"Furthermore-this is the really interesting bit, you'll love this-he had no idea what Gwaine was talking about when he mentioned your previous visits to that establishment. What do you make of that?"
Merlin swallowed. As much as he disliked the tavern excuse-it gave a rotten impression-it had been a convenient one. And if he couldn't preserve it, he'd have to come up with a new one on the spot. He swallowed again, hating himself for what he was about to say.
"I've...I've been paying him off," he muttered.
"What?!" It was hard to tell whether Arthur was about to laugh or become furious.
"I-er-I've been paying the bartender to cover for me. Just in case, you know, you decided to go looking for me. Which you did! So I was right!"
"And," Arthur cut off his ramblings, "you've just blown the whole thing by confessing it to me. You really are a complete idiot, Merlin."
"Yes, sire." Merlin inclined his head.
"You're a marvel, Merlin," the king continued to muse out loud. "I often wonder if you can possibly be a stupid as you seem."
"Yes, sire." Eager to escape the situation, Merlin seized a hamper of laundry and made for the door. "I'll just go take these to be washed."
"Merlin!"
"Yes, sire."
"Those are clean."
Merlin closed his eyes, pursed his lips, and turned back to face Arthur. He set down the hamper, then straightened up and flashed his most winning smile. "Just testing you!"
Arthur was not amused. "Go muck out my horses."
"Yes, sire." Relieved to be free to go, Merlin turned and opened the door. Just as he was about to slip out, something heavy struck his head.
"And polish my boots, Merlin!"
