As Merlin poked his head around the door one more, he was greeted by the lone figure of Arthur leaning heavily against one wall, knees bent slightly and one gloved hand rubbing
tiredly across his face. With a deep sigh, he turned suddenly and caught sight of the pale face watching him from inside his chambers. 'Merlin!' Clearing his throat uncertainly, Arthur
strode towards the boy, arms folded pleasntly behind his back but a frown forcing his eyes to narrow slightly. 'You're certainly looking better!' Gently pushing him back into the room,
a tight smile pulling at his lips, Arthur began to babble suddenly about the events of the previous night, all the things Merlin couldn't remember and probably didn't want to.
'…And then you suddenly sat up again, shouting something about Gwaine and peasants arses' or something, it was quite amusing really. Then you passed out again, and I couldn't
very well move you then, could I? You just had to go and be so stubborn and heavy…' Merlin smiled ruefully but said nothing. Catching his eye, Arthurs faced loosened considerably
and said, a touch softer this time, 'well…you know, I suppose people have to be nice to their servants once in a while, they might revolt otherwise and then where we would be? ' He
knew Arthur didn't really want an answer but there was still the tension in the air, the unspoken friction passing between them unpleasantly, the subtle clenching of his fist at the
word 'servant'. Yes, he was still Arthurs servant, he was still the big eared idiot who could barely lift a sword let alone weild it, and he was still the peasant boy who'd grown far too
comfortable in the stocks, but he'd become so close to being more than that. The words 'I choose you' should've rung in his ears, the immense pleasure of finally being chosen rather
than forced, the oppurtunity to actually be something, be someone of importance to Camelot, but they were crushed and swept away by the cruel mantra of 'worthless servant', the
stinging pain of 'you think that you're my friend but you're not!' and worst of all, Arthurs one chance to be honest and true to him blown away by written words and, in Merlins eyes,
an absense of heart. Which is probably why he answered with this; 'Where would you be? Oh I don't know, dressing yourself, cleaning for yourself, acting like an adult for once?' A
menacing glint flew into his eyes as he growled 'writing your own speeches?'.
He flinched. Merlin had risen, hackled raised like an angry dog, scar stretching angrily as he spoke, and, towering over Arthur, he'd delivered the final blow. He knew the air hadn't
cleared and he knew why, but somewhere in the back of his head, a little voice began cried 'ungrateful boy! You let him sleep in your bed! You took care of him! He should be thanking
you, not accusing you!'. Merlin continued to glare at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, hot breath skimming across the top of his head until suddenly 'Merlin, stop, you're behaving
like a child!' Ok, he thought, so maybe that wasn't the most tactful repsonse… His point was proven when Merlin suddenly span on his heel, coating tail lightly whipping the side of
Arthurs face and made to leave. 'Merlin, are you really going to keep walking out on me everytime I try to make conversation? What do you want? Do you want me to get down on my
knees and apologize to my servant for making him sad?' his voice seemed to have adopted a horrible mocking tone without his permission, but now he'd started, he couldn't seem to
stop. Apparently Merlin shared this problem as soon they were nose to wounded nose in the middle of the room, bellowing into each others faces;
'Not just a child, a spoilt jealous child!'
'Better than a stuck up, arrogant fool!'
'Fool am i? Oh you're one to talk! How did you get that scratch again? Trying to pick a flower?'
'Do you actually think when you talk? Or have you got someone censoring it behind my back?'
'How dare you talk to me like that! I'm the King of…'
'Yeah, the sodding King of Camelot, I know. Gwen knows. Gaius knows. The horses probably know. We all know, but we don't care so you can stop pulling rank on us whenever you feel your ego needs a boost!'
'I ought to throw you in the dungeons by your ears! That's if theres a cell big enough for them!'
'Getting personal now are we, Arthur Big Belt Pendragon?'
'Don't they teach respect in Ealdor, or are you just deaf to any intelligent noise thrown at you?'
'Well I certainly don't hear any from you! How many royal tutors quit because of you? 8? 9?'
'At least I had tutors. At least I had money enough to keep me out of that pig sty you call a home!'
'Don't you dare! Don't you even dare talk about my home!' Merlins face had turned scarlett with rage, and Arthur noticed with a sharp spike of vindictive pleasure that his fist was clenching at his side.
'What're you gonna do? Throw a hay bale at me? Get daddy to hit me with a broken broom handle? Oh wait…' He pulled the corners of his mouth down in mock dismay, the pent up anger streaming from his lips and spiralling out of control; '…he can't, can he Merlin?'
