Disclaimer: Don't own BBC Merlin. Sorry Kids.
Arthur had just finished peeling off his armor when the horns sounded. His head whipped up and he barked, "Wash bin, now- no time."
Merlin flew across the room, grabbing a medium brown tunic and Arthur's vest along the way. The Prince splashed the water over his face and raised his arms to help Merlin change his clothes. When his golden head popped through the top, he whipped it around, sending droplets everywhere. Merlin blinked at the water in his face, and dashed for the dragon belt while Arthur pulled on his vest, straightening it on his shoulders.
"Fast is better than slow, Merlin!" he yelled with agitation, as Merlin unwound the belt from a sword.
Freeing it, Merlin took one end in each hand and bear-hugged Arthur's waist from behind, securing it in record time. Arthur hooked a hand around Merlin's neckscarf and hoisted him up, dragging him behind.
"Hey!" the manservant skipped behind him, clutching at the material around his throat, making sure it didn't choke him. Arthur released when they came to the stairs, and together they rushed down to the courtyard.
Suddenly in the blinding sun, Merlin lifted an arm to shield his eyes, and surveyed the scene quickly.
"That one," Arthur pointed out discreetly, as they hurriedly made their decent of the last staircase, "is Prince Devon. Do as he asks or it'll be the stocks, I can promise you." Merlin followed the direction and spotted the young man, obviously a few years younger, but easily as tall as himself. He rode a white mare, decked in the colors of house Adamarr, silver and violet. His straight-backed posture evoked at once a sense of arrogance that Merlin observed without relish. He had a head of bouncing brown curls, a round face that still had not lost all of its baby fat, and a pair of eyes that betrayed his childish appearance. They were dark, and searched, hawklike, about the courtyard. When they landed on Arthur, he broke into a fantastic grin, and vaulted off his horse with alacrity.
"Pendragon!" He yelled, much too loud for the short distance between the two.
"Prince Devon. I trust you've been faring well?" Arthur smiled after a glance from his father.
"Better than you, it seems," he boy snorted, gesturing to the yard, "I've got a place like this for just me. Father has to send word when he wants to have dinner!"
"Yes... well..." Arthur cast about, unsure what to say. Suddenly he remembered, and pulled his manservant in front of him, almost as a shield. "This is Merlin. He's my personal servant, and will attend to your every wish during your stay, here," he said. Devon's eyes ran the length of Merlin's thin form and back, again. "Any problems, come to me, and I will sort it personally."
Merlin met Devon's gaze and at once felt a spark of something... other. But then the Prince had blinked and smiled that impish grin, turning to pull a giant pack off the back of his horse. He hoisted it onto Merlin, who thankfully reacted in time to catch it, and stumbled backward a few steps.
"Good. You can take that to my room, for starters!" Merlin's gaze narrowed at Arthur's retreating back, who looked more than pleased he'd shaken the boy, and was now conversing with King Adamarr and his father. Prat.
"Well get a move-on!" Devon shouted in his ear, and strutted up the steps behind Merlin.
Author's Note: These will likely be this short. I like Devon. XD