A/N: Once again, I was AMAZED at the response of the last one-shot! And – celebration time! – this fic has reached the 100-review marker – I don't think I've ever had over 100 reviews for a mere 10 chapters before – thank you guys SO MUCH! :) Here's the next one, enjoy (and review)… XD This takes place sometime during the third season and is (obviously) Arthur's POV. :)

Also, starting now, I'm going to start changing the genres and characters based on each one-shot to make it a bit more explanatory. :) Unless you guys would rather me keep it the way it is, and I won't... so if you have an objection to the genres and characters being changed with each chapter, let me know, and I won't do it again. :P Enjoy! :)

Sesquipedalian

Chapter Eleven: Hobbledehoy

hobbledehoy, n.
(HAH-buhl-dih-HOY)
An awkward, gawky youth

There's something about Merlin; I just can't put my finger on it.

Honestly, looking at him, one would think that there is nothing interesting or mysterious about the idiot – I certainly didn't when I first met him. There's nothing about him that suggests he has any secrets, or even the mental capacity to keep a secret. Something I've reminded him of on a regular basis, mind you. "You can't hide anything from me, Merlin."

I would have never guessed that someone like Merlin would have the guts to stand up to me. Sure, when he first approached me, he challenged me, but that was because the idiot had no idea who he was. I was sure that once he found out I was the crown prince of Camelot he would see sense and treat me with the respect my title demands. But he didn't.

It's strange. Merlin will come up with the most profound and – I'll kill anyone who tries to tell him this – wise comments and encouragements at the most crucial of times. Despite the fact that I'm constantly berating him, teasing him, calling him an idiot, he stands by me, has faith in me, and doesn't hesitate to tell me so. That's another thing – Merlin says what Merlin wants to say, not what is appropriate for him to say. Sometimes he'll be sarcastic and annoying – well, almost all of the time, really – and other times he'll get this look in his eyes like he's disappointed and he'll seem to be genuinely disappointed in a decision I've made – and that, for some reason, seems to affect me more than my father's disapproval. Why, when I could care less about what Merlin thinks about me?

And then occasionally he'll come out and say something that is so foreign coming out of his mouth it leaves me nonplussed. It's like he has this… almost… understanding of things, a wisdom that not even he fully comprehends. There was that time right after I had been miraculously cured from the Questing Beast's venom that Merlin had approached me. His eyes had been sad and he looked like he had been crying. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, why he looked like the weight of the whole world rested on his scrawny shoulders, but I didn't. Instead, I told him that I decide when we need to talk, not the other way around. Not that it did any good. Merlin never listens to me, and that day was no exception.

But what really stood out in my mind about our conversation was the way he spoke. He was grave, solemn, but also a bit – just a bit – teasing. He said that if I ever got another servant to promise that he wouldn't be a bootlicker. I'll admit that the wording of what he said after that really bothered me, almost as if he was not planning on being around much longer. "I'm happy to be your servant… until the day I die."

When the dragon attacked Camelot, there was a similar situation. This time I knew he'd been crying – and while I'd felt like shedding a few tears as well for having lost what I perceived to be Camelot's last hope, I'm still unsure why the dragonlord's death affected Merlin the way that he did; he was nearly hysterical when I found him holding Balinor's lifeless body – but he still put aside his own feelings and tried to give me advice. I got the feeling that he was resigning himself to something – just what I still don't know. At the time I thought it was to the fact that I, well, we, were more than likely going to die during this venture. But now… could there have been something else to it?

The fact that Merlin willingly picked up a sword – which he can't use to save his life anyway, the idiot – and resolved to go with me to fight the dragon, knowing that he would more than likely die in the process still baffles me. I always call Merlin a coward and an idiot, but the way he so solemnly tried to advise me, the way he stood by me – still stands by me, in fact – is both touching and confusing. I can't help but think: Why?

Perhaps the instance that most stands out in my mind is when he spoke to me before the battle of the siege on Camelot began. He told me that this would be a day that would be remembered for all time… The words of encouragement he spoke were so kind, so… dare I say it? … wise. It was almost as if in that moment, the dorky, awkward young man that's been my servant for two years had been replaced by someone with more power and experience than I could ever imagine.

He'll say something about how I'll be a great king, or how he'll always be loyal to me, or that he's not scared because we will win this battle. It comforts me. It also unnerves me.

It's always like that – Merlin will say something with a confidence I normally can't discern in him, his eyes will be hard and determined and painfully loyal to me, and his words will create a warmth, almost a cocoon of protection around me during the battle or whatever else it is that I'm to be facing and I never fail to come out the victor.

And then, in the blink of an eye, the moment is gone. His strangely wizened face is replaced with that idiotic grin of his and he's not the mysterious Merlin anymore, but simply Merlin (or as I like to call him, Merlin).

Still it's kind of unnerving to know that something so brave and seemingly strong, almost wise lives behind the usually blank and idiotic blue stare. Merlin's not exactly "hero" or "wise man" material, what with his gawky, gangly limbs, thin torso, lean face, and pale complexion. He doesn't stand out in a crowd, he's your average awkward teenager. But sometimes – just sometimes – when you look into his eyes, he's so much more.

I'm not sure I want to know the cause of his occasional wisdom. Then again, sometimes he's such a puzzle that I want to demand to know everything. Sometimes it's painfully obvious that he's hiding something – maybe even something big – from me, but the next moment, he'll grin that stupid smile and he'll be back to the hapless idiot.

For now, I'm content with the level of knowledge I have about Merlin. Most of the time he's not Merlin the Mystery but Merlin the Moron, and I can live with that, even if on those rare occasions he says changes my whole view of thinking…

Someday, I'll find out the truth. But for now, I think I'll have him muck out my stables just for making me ponder his strange ways while I should be doing other, more important things. Yes, I believe I'll do just that; I can hear the idiot bumbling toward me now, so –

"Merlin!"

For now, this is the way it should be.

A/N: What did you think? Hopefully you enjoyed it as well, I know I focused more on the "wise" factor than the actual "hobbledehoy" description of Merlin but I wanted Arthur to try and figure out how something so contrasting to Merlin's seeming idiocy could co-exist with such a hobbledehoy. Please review and let me know if it was to your satisfaction. :)

NEXT TIME – floccinaucinihilipilification – Uther doesn't understand the bond between Arthur and Merlin. (This chapter will be dedicated to the anonymous reviewer randomfan for suggesting it!)

I'll update as soon as I can! :) Please review!

~Emachinescat ^..^