Alaia Skyhawk: Here it is! Enjoy :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Music: The Forged Seal (Merlin OST)
"Whom History Won't Remember" Episode: N/A
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Chapter 10: The Meaning of Manners ~Part 1~
It was actually nice to be back to his usual routine, dashing into the kitchens, cutting to the front of the lines for the various items as his position allowed him to do, and then making him way through the gauntlet of the corridor outside without losing the contents of his now burdened tray. And then leaving behind the manic crowding of the most-used passages, for the completely deserted calm of his personal shortcut.
Merlin smiled to himself, making his way to Arthur's chambers with the man's breakfast. Yes, it was good to be back to normal, and not be stuck doing twice the work for two different people because one of them didn't know the prince hadn't actually left the city.
He winced a little then, remembering the price he'd paid for that secret. Cleaning the leech tank had been as vile as he'd expected. Next time he was asked to do that, he privately swore to himself that he would make up a spell to do it, and then wait for Gaius to leave on some errand and 'clean' the horrid item while he was out. If he found out he'd cheated, well, it wasn't like there was anything worse than the leech tank that the physician could give to him to do instead. Arthur already held ownership over the next worst thing, mucking out his personal stables.
Merlin sighed to himself, thinking about that. It had been a while since the prince had given him that chore, since it had been a while since he'd been annoyed enough with him to make him go do it instead of leaving it to the stablehands. With that in mind, it was probably a good idea behave himself for a while.
He arrived at Arthur's chambers, picking up the clinking sack of items he'd dropped off outside here before tackling the kitchens. He then opened the door and entered quietly, aware that an injured and castle-bound prince could be a cranky one.
Arthur didn't so much as twitch under the covers on the bed, as Merlin set down the tray of food and inched over to the curtains. The servant then opened them by increments, slowly increasing the amount of light in the room before then creeping over to the fireplace. He'd already left a fresh supply of wood next to it last night, which he gradually added to the embers within the grate and encouraged them to catch light with quietly whispered word. Let Arthur wonder why his present servant never had trouble getting the fire going in the morning, when all his previous ones usually had to rake the embers around for several minutes before a decent blaze took hold.
That task done, Merlin now slunk over to the prince's bed, leaning over it cautiously to assess and consider just what method he should use to get him up without putting him in a foul mood... A tough task considering Merlin couldn't really recall any of the ways he'd ever used not putting him in a foul mood.
So he opted for the only approach he could think off... He actually acted like a normal servant, one that didn't sarcastically retort to half the things his master said.
He cleared his throat, clearly not used to doing it this way.
"My Lord? Your breakfast is ready."
The softly spoken words at last got a twitch out of Arthur, who rolled over without opening his eyes.
"I'll be up in a minute, Bern. Get my clothing ready."
"Bern?"
Merlin gaped at Arthur, immediately horrified that in being polite he'd been mistake for the prince's former boot-licker. That reaction must have been evident in the tone of his exclamation, because the prince then opened his eyes to see who it actually was stood next to the bed.
He blinked and stared for several seconds, before abruptly sitting up and wincing as he jolted the wound in his side.
"M-Merlin! I uh..." He hesitated for a second, obviously embarrassed. "Just get my clothing ready."
The servant slowly turned, still offended despite his previous resolve not to put Arthur in a bad mood, and replied curtly.
"Of course, Sire."
He stalked over to the closet beside the dressing screen, starting to roughly rummage through the contents while Arthur got up and walked over to the table. Seeing Merlin's reaction to the error, he then quietly got on with eating his food. The servant had actually decided to treat him today, bringing a slice of honey bread in addition to the usual porridge and fruit. He must have been in a good mood, before being mistaken for Bern had put him in such an irritated one.
Arthur watched Merlin from the corner of his eye, remembering what Gwen had said to him. Was he really so oblivious at times as to how much he could offend people? Oblivious to how rude he could be? Well if the way Merlin acted towards him a lot of the time was any indication, given the man had no qualms about expressing displeasure at being overloaded with extra chores at the late in a day, then he'd just gone and done that now.
All of a sudden, he felt rather awkward.
Arthur hastily finished his food, starting to get up when he was stopped by Merlin bustling over and pushing aside the tray.
"Stay sat, I have another job to do this morning." Merlin picked up the sack of things he'd brought in, emptying it onto the cleared part of the table and revealing them to be fresh cloths, bandages, and dressings, and jars of varying kinds that he set the right way up. "Gaius told me that since I was partly responsible for you getting hurt, because I went along with your plan to compete anonymously, that I should make myself useful in treating your injury. I have to clean your wound and change the dressing every morning and evening until it's closed enough not to need it anymore."
Arthur stared at him, either side of having his nightshirt hauled up over his head.
"You're going to be tending my wound?"
Merlin picked up a small set of clippers, a miniature version of those used by farmers to shear their flocks, and cut the blood-caked bandage that encircled the prince's torso so he could remove it. It was beyond being boil-washed and salvaged for future use.
"He made all the medicines, I'm just the one using them." He then opened the first jar, soaking a cloth with some of the pungent liquid it contained and briskly but gently started to clean the wound and the skin around it. "He said that since he played no part in you getting the injury, as he would never have approved of what you did, we both have to take responsibility for it."
Arthur, rather stunned, remained still as the servant now began to apply an ointment to the wound and place a new dressing over it.
"He said that?"
Merlin nodded, now starting with securing the dressing with a length of new bandage.
"Yes." He finished securing the bandage, and helped Arthur to his feet. "Now you can get dressed."
He proceeded to begin clearing up the bloodied bandage he'd removed, and the other bits of paraphernalia, while Arthur went to the dressing screen. Pulling on his socks and breeches wasn't a problem, but when it came time to get the shirt on the wound in his side proved to be one.
Just about to bark out a command for assistance, Arthur then paused as once again Gwen's reprimand from the other night intruded on his conscience. The result was a much quieter and polite request.
"Merlin, could you come here for a moment... please... I can't get my right arm into this shirt on my own."
The other side of the screen, at the table in the other part of the room, Merlin jolted upright and turned to face his direction. Did Arthur just say 'please'?
"Excuse me?"
"I said could you come here for a moment, please. I know you're busy, but I need help getting into this shirt."
Feeling as if the world had suddenly gone crazy, Merlin went over and did as he was asked, even going so far as to doing up the shirt's laces once it was on.
"Do you need help with anything else, Sire?"
Arthur shook his head, now picking up his boots.
"No, thank you. I can manage."
Once again Merlin stared at him, before walking away to clear up the breakfast things and take them back to the kitchens. A please and a thank you? Had Arthur hit his head or something?
Still utterly perturbed by the whole thing, Merlin came back from the kitchens and cautiously peered into the room before entering. Almost as if expecting the previous good manners to be some sort of joke made in preparation for having chores heaped on him the moment of his return. But no, Arthur was at his desk reading through the reports that had been left for him during his 'patrol' to the north. Since he couldn't train or go riding until Gaius gave him the all clear, there wasn't really much else he could do.
He didn't look up when Merlin entered, although he did speak to him.
"It's just the usual chores today, Merlin. And if you could please see to it my jousting armour is returned to the armoury, you can clean it when you have time. If you get all that done before evening, then you may have the afternoon off."
Merlin slowly advanced across the room, truly starting to think the prince had suffered a concussion or something.
"Is that all, Sire?"
Arthur continued to read the letter he held, and nodded.
"Yes, that's all, Merlin. Thank you."
Merlin didn't move for several seconds, until he decided not to risk his sudden good fortune turning sour. Cleaning the armour took moments, since the armoury was empty and no one expected him to be there cleaning armour the prince purportedly hadn't used. Stowing it in the secure side-room, where all gear belonging to king and prince was stored when not in regular use, was also easy. Seeing as being Arthur's servant he was privy to where the servants' key for it was hidden for his and Uther's servants' access to it.
That done he went and got fresh bedding, the floor of Arthur's chambers didn't need washing because he'd scrubbed it the first night the prince had stayed at Gwen's house. Bedding changed and the dirty sheets taken to the castle laundry, he then went to muck out the stables because right now things felt so utterly strange that he needed it to jolt him back to reality.
He got there and found that the stable had already been cleaned, and with Arthur having been 'absent' for the last four days there was little else to do in 'regular' chores. It was true, most of his time was usually spent running around on random errands that Arthur came up with as the day went by. Or failing that was spent doing the same thing for Gaius if the physician knew he had spare time. But after the way he'd been worked to the bone by both of them during the time of the tournament, there was no way Merlin was going to go back to the physician's chambers and be loaded with errands by him.
Merlin went and got his tack, and saddled Bitan without any real conscious thought about it. Ten minutes later and the horse was pounding along a trail through the woods with the warlock atop him. One of them revelling in being out while the other tried to clear his head.
They stopped by a stream, Merlin letting his horse forage on bushes while he sat himself on a rock near the water. He had no clue what had caused the sudden change in Arthur's behaviour towards him, but he did know one thing... He didn't like it one bit. It was boring and downright unnerving.
He returned to Bitan and rode back to Camelot, grooming the horse and cleaning the tack in time to get Arthur's midday meal to him without being late. In fact Arthur hadn't so much as moved from his desk when his servant arrived with the food, and he simply looked up before getting to his feet.
"Ah, thank you, Merlin. Are all your chores done?"
Merlin set down the tray, eyeing the prince as he seated himself.
"...Yes."
"Very good, then as I said earlier you may have the afternoon to yourself."
The warlock clamped his jaw shut on a sarcastic response to that, with one major thought running through his head. While the prince had never openly admitted it, the two of them were friends and that was why they kept testing each other with sarcastic remarks and threats of foul chores respectively. Calling each other prat, or idiot, or clotpole, or moron. It was their little game, their way of breaking the rules of subservient courtesy that everyone seemed to think a prince and his manservant should stick to. And so long as Arthur kept up this totally unnatural politeness, that game had come to a shuddering halt.
Merlin let out a sigh, before throwing his hands into the air in irritation.
"Ok, just stop this. Saying please and thank you to me is nice, but seriously you're freaking me out." Arthur paused mid-forkful, and Merlin continued. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather you be a prat than like this. You're going to drive me crazy before the end of the week if you keep this up."
Arthur slowly set down his fork, staring at his servant in surprise before a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and his old and amused tone of superiority returned.
"Oh really?"
Merlin nodded and smiled.
"Yes, really. You're boring when you're polite."
The two of them continued to regard each other for several long moments, before the prince became both serious and distantly thoughtful. He then smiled, the same smile of unspoken friendship that his servant presently wore.
"Then perhaps you could help me with something."
Merlin raised an eyebrow.
"And that would be?"
"I said I would do something for someone, but I didn't. I want to keep that promise."
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Alaia Skyhawk: So what could it be? You can probably guess, but you'll find out next chapter anyway XD