My most hugest thanks to xtremefrolicker, PaperSpades and MirrorMyThoughts, for your lovely reviews which spurred me to write a second chapter. Especially to MirrorMyThoughts for faving! You give me happy squeals. Also to the other 48 people who read this little drabble. ^^

DISCLAIMED

George woke just before dawn out of habit, lifting his head wearily from his bed of…straw?

Straw. Stables. He grinned. He was a stable boy now! With a little happy sound, he let his head flop back to hit his makeshift pillow with a thump. Grinning up at the rafters above him, warmth from the horses below keeping him cosy, life was good.

George drifted in a kind of doze for a while, till the sharp sound of the door opening below woke him properly. Peering through the gaps in the floorboards, he saw his uncle – a great big bear of a man – stalking through the stables, searching for him.

"George?" He grunted, looking around. "Where are ye, boy?"

"Here." George smiled and waved as his uncle looked up and scowled good-naturedly.

"Found yerself a bed then. Clever lad. Now then, come on down an' we'll see what kind of a stable boy ye make."

George nodded and scrambled to the ladder, jumping down it quickly. Before he could blink, his uncle set him to work mucking out, feeding, turning out, grooming and checking the tack. And that was just to start with.

George whistled happily as he ploughed through the heavy workload, leaving his uncle standing to one side, scratching his head in confusion. "In all me days," He declared, "I ain't never seen a stable boy on 'is first day so 'appy."

"Anything is better than being Arthur's manservant." George confided, and his uncle threw back his head in a full-throated laugh. A knock on the stable door halted the exchange, and George grinned as Merlin's head poked around the side, wracked with confusion and nerves.

"George?"

"Yeah." George nodded. "He ask you to muck out Hubert?"

Merlin nodded unhappily and sloped over like he was walking to the gallows. George laughed, and his uncle raised his eyebrows and turned away slowly. As he passed his nephew, he clapped a hand on his shoulder and bent to whisper in George's ear, "Get rid of the lanky foal quick. You got work t'do."

"Yes, sir." George nodded as his uncle walked away. He ran a critical eye over Merlin. The older boy was tired, and his eyes had a certain hollow look that could only be gotten by having abuse thrown at you and being forced to ignore it. George pulled a sympathetic face. "It could be worse." He offered, leaning his broom up against a pillar and walking over to Merlin.

"How?" The tall boy asked despairingly.

"Well…" George hesitated, then brightened. "Did he bring your mother into it?"

Merlin's eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head dumbly. George smiled.

"Well then, he must like you for saving his life."

"That…" Merlin said disbelievingly, "Was him liking me?"

George nodded. "Afraid so. Come on – Hubert's not so bad once you get on his good side. Here –" He took an apple out of his pocket and handed it to Merlin. "Give him this and he'll be fine. You know horses?"

"Only farm horses." Merlin admitted.

"Well, thoroughbreds are just as big, but snobbier." George told him. "More often'n not, a horse's personality suits its rider. So think of Hubert as a stuck-up prince, and grovel."

"Grovel?" Merlin pulled a face.

"Yep." George steered him to Hubert's stall, where the large, dark gelding was glaring down his nose at them. "Walk in slowly, and hold out the apple."

Merlin nodded uncertainly and did as he was told, edging in at a snail's pace, holding the fruit out at arm's length. Hubert stretched out his neck suspiciously, and pulled his lips back over his huge yellow teeth. Suddenly, quicker than lightning, he sank his teeth into the apple, and Merlin's fingers.

Merlin yowled and his other hand came up to smack Hubert upside the head sharply. The horse was so shocked, he dropped the apple. Outside the stall, George was wearing much the same expression.

Merlin glared at the horse. "Think that's funny do you? Well don't try it again, or I'll hit you harder. Now," He bent to pick up the apple and held it out to Hubert, maintaining his glare the whole time, "Go on."

Hubert still looked surprised as he took the apple slowly from Merlin's hand, as if expecting Merlin's other hand to hit him again. When it didn't, he munched on the apple, still looking quite shocked. He'd probably never been smacked in his life.

George swallowed, regaining his power of speech. "Wow." He managed to gasp. "Well, erm…right then, you'd better blow in his nose, teach him your scent and that…"

Merlin didn't look away from Hubert as he did as George suggested, then straightened and backed out of the stall, turning to George with a grin. "Well I think that went well."

George just gaped at him.

Merlin walked past him, nursing his sore hand. "Think Arthur'd be that easy to deal with if I gave him a whack on the head?" He turned back to George, his grin faltering at the other boy's dumbstruck expression. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," George snapped out of his reverie and shook his head, "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" He puffed out his cheeks and blew out in a long whistle. "Blimey. I've never seen anyone stand up to Hubert like that. He's almost as bad as Arthur – like rider, like horse – but…phew." His eyes held a new respect for Merlin as they regarded him in a fresh light. "I reckon you'll be fine as Arthur's servant. If Hubert's taken to you so fast, and like horse, like rider…"

Merlin's face split into a huge smile. "You really think so?"

George nodded honestly. "Yeah. Wow. Come on then," He shook his head, getting back to business. "You'd better start mucking him out…"

Merlin nodded and turned around, only to trip on the broom George had leaned against the pillar minutes before and land in a tangled heap of knees and elbows, flat on his face.

"Well," George said dryly, "That's if you live long enough to get through the morning."

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