NOTE: This is meant to be a silly, crack ficlet.

For the Love of Arthur's Armour

After the tournament Merlin sat by the fire and spread the chainmail across his lap, studying it closely. By now he knew Arthur's armour like the back of his hand and could easily spot any dents and snags. In no time at all his eyes came to rest on the latest damage, a long tear along the side that had occurred when the lance belonging to Arthur's opponent had glanced off his arm.

Arthur hadn't been very hurt – there had been a bit blood, but the cut was fairly shallow and should heal quickly – but his armour had suffered. Merlin ran his fingers carefully over the damage, minding the jagged edges of the mail, and heaved a sigh.

"Don't worry," he assured it. "You'll be all right in no time." A few words and some glowing eyes later and the chainmail was as good as new. Its rings were repaired and clean once more and it even seemed happier from its perch on Merlin's knees. Prouder. More confident. Utterly content.

"There," Merlin said, smiling and giving it a pat. "All better now."

"Were you just talking to my chainmail?" said a voice dangerously close to his ear.

"What? No!" Merlin leapt to his feet and spun around, knocking the mail to the floor in the process. It landed in a sad heap, and Merlin immediately crouched down and scooped it up with a quickly murmured apology.

Arthur was watching him with an incredulous look on his face. "You did! You just apologised to it!"

"No, I didn't!"

"You're caressing it," Arthur said with a look of disgust. Merlin glanced down and saw that it was true, he was petting the chainmail as if he were trying to comfort it after its fall.

"I didn't– I mean–" Merlin shook his head, flustered. "This isn't what it looks like, Arthur."

"I really don't want to know what it looks like, Merlin," Arthur said, stomping over to his chair. "It's just a bit of a shock to walk into one's chambers and find one's manservant whispering sweet nothings to his armour." He folded his arms and glared at Merlin, well on his way to a dangerous sulk.

"I wasn't–" Merlin stopped and looked him. "Wait – are you jealous?" When Arthur didn't reply he laughed gleefully. "You are! You're actually jealous because I was paying more attention to your armour than to you!"

Arthur's look was thunderous. But he didn't deny it.

Merlin slowly walked over and carefully set the armour on the table. Then he came to stand beside Arthur and very gently rubbed Arthur's side where he knew the lance had struck.

"Is that better, sire?" he asked after a moment.

"Well," Arthur sniffed, looking somewhat placated. "It's a start."

Merlin bit back a sigh and cast a longing glance at Arthur's chainmail. At least it didn't talk back...