Things Merlin Isn't Allowed To Do (According to Prince Arthur)
14: Forget Important Details Before Tournaments
It's another cloudless perfect sunny day. Another day full of chainmail-, helmet- and sword-polishing. Another big lot of foreign knights, and many of Camelot's own, and hordes of fans coming to crowd the streets. Another great tournament.
It's the fourth tournament since he first arrived in Camelot. Out of those four, only two could be considered normal, without any assignations or strange deaths or enchanted shields. And Merlin can only keep his fingers crossed that this tournament will have no abnormalities, hell-bent-on-revenge sorcerers/evil knights/badass people in general who wants Prince Arthur dead, because it'd be a nice change for Merlin to be able to stand in the sidelines and cheer for his prince rather than having to rush out and save his life every five minutes.
The prince stands still so that Merlin can put on his chainmail, fasten all clasps and lay the red cape over his shoulders. He's not talking much, but loudly opposes Merlin's statement that the prince is nervous, of course; he never gets nervous, because he's a Pendragon and Pendragons never get nervous, and Merlin's worried gaze or fidgeting hands does not make him any more nervous. Merlin's getting better at this, Arthur notices. He finishes dressing the prince in full armour in just a couple of minutes, a definite improvement. But Arthur gives him an impatient look as he steps away. "Aren't you forgetting something, Merlin?"
"What?" The look grows sharper, the hint of a raised eyebrow. "Oh!" Merlin exclaims, realization dawning. He leans in and kisses the prince gently, murmuring, "Good luck." as their lips part, the prince's hand resting on his lower back.
Immediately Arthur looks pleased and calmer, more collected, and holds himself straighter, much like a warrior who knows he shall win the upcoming battle. Which he will. "That's better."
And with clear certainity, the prince hefts his sword and steps out of the tent, onto the area into the crowd's excited cheer, with Merlin's support at his back – he'll do everything to win and become champion this year. It's got nothing to do with Arthur's pride … or that he wants to impress Merlin. No really, it hasn't. Honestly.
()()()
After a week, Prince Arthur wins the tournament and is named champion for like the sixth or possibly seventh time in a row. Nobody seems surprised. Nor does anyone seem surprised when Prince Arthur has a small celebration of his own in his chambers with only his manservant as company, because it's the only company the prince really wants or needs. Well, maybe the rather mortified guard who is sent by the king to fetch the prince that next morning and catches a glimpse of the bed and said guard walks around permanently blushing for another week. But, other than that, nobody really minds.