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The One Where Arthur Finds Out Exactly Why Merlin is Such a Bad Manservant

A Chandlure Trainez One Shot

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The evening saw Merlin and Arthur quietly sitting in Arthur's chambers. Merlin was sat by the fire, making glue, while Arthur was at his desk reading over several parchments worth of paperwork that his father left for him.

Merlin lightly dipped his fingers into the pot, his fingers grazing the glue bubbling inside. He pressed his fingers together and pulled them apart, noting the resistance. It would have to do for now.

He pulled his fingers out and rubbed them along the leather of his shoe, completing the action several times until the edges were coated liberally in the sticky matter. With a sigh, he pressed the stiff leather back over the sole and picked up the needle and thread he had laid beside him on the stone floor in Arthur's chambers.

Merlin leaned close to the fire to see the holes in the sole and began to resew his boot clumsily. He wished that it had broken earlier in the day when he could have gotten Gwen or one of the seamstresses to fix it for him properly. As it were, despite his best efforts, it was beginning to look like a blurry-eyed four-year-old had been sewing it.

"Merlin!"

Merlin jerked, stabbing himself with the needle in his hand. He threw the needle down as he sucked on his injured finger, glaring up at the back of the prince's head. "Yes, Sire?"

"Go get water for a bath." Arthur hadn't bothered to turn around at his desk to look at Merlin. His eyes still focused on the parchment in front of him.

Merlin looked down at the boot that he was mending in his lap and sighed heavily before glaring up at the Prince. "Now?"

"Yes, Merlin, now." Arthur scoffed.

"I need to finish this first." He blindly felt around on the floor for the needle, wincing when he once again pricked himself. Gingerly holding the needle between two fingers, he continued to sew the leather to the sole, glowering when the thread had slipped from the needle. "Ugh!" He would give anything for some privacy so that he could use magic. It would still turn out like crap, but at least he could make a quicker job of it.

"You're my manservant–"

"As observant as ever, Sire," Merlin said dryly, squinting as he struggled to put the thread through the eye of the needle. The fire and various candles did not give off as much light as Merlin would have liked, but he wasn't in the mood to walk around the cold stone floor in just his socks.

"Just buy yourself a new pair tomorrow at the market. Borrow a pair of mine until then," Arthur motioned towards his cabinet, where several boots sat at the bottom of it.

"Why hadn't I thought of that?" Merlin asked sarcastically. "I can just go down to the market and buy a new pair, so simple!"

"That's what I am saying!"

"I'll just go down to the market with all the money I have. I might even be able to get a new shirt and pants while I am at it!" His tone was bright, but the sarcasm wasn't lost on Arthur. "Shall I pick you up something while I am there, Sire? Don't worry, it's my treat. I just have so much money lying about!"

Arthur turned in his chair and studied the agitated man in front of the fire, eyebrows raised.

Merlin paid him no mind, focusing instead on retreading the needle. He had finally gotten the thread through the eye, only for it to fall out again a second later. "You have got to be kidding me," he hissed, throwing his boot off his lap in frustration.

Merlin roughly ran his fingers through his curls, pulling on the ends in frustration. A flush of shame ran across his cheeks, down his neck, and to his ears. With the needle still in his hand, he shut his eyes tightly and closed his fist over it and the thread, waiting as the needle threaded itself. He let out a slow breath and opened his eyes, staring into the fire. Nothing was going right, and the Idiot Prince wanted to make believe that buying anything was in the realm of possibility for Merlin.

"Merlin."

He looked up, shocked to see that Arthur had moved to sit beside him on the floor. He studied the prince's face. Gone was the aggravated glare that typically adorned his face. In its stead was a look of unadulterated concern.

"What?"

"Have you been sending all of your pay home to your mother?" Merlin's eyebrows knitted in confusion as Arthur continued. "If there is anything your mother needs…"

"What?" Merlin rolled his shoulders and shook his head, "Arthur, what are you–"

"As the lone male of the family, you certainly must help support her, but you need to keep enough to see to your needs."

Merlin turned back to the boot in his lap and continued sewing as he tried to wrap his head around what Arthur was saying. Nothing made sense- not that it usually did, but now even less so. Merlin was beginning to suspect that Arthur had taken one too many hits to the head during his practice session with the Knights earlier that day.

He finished up the sewing and bit off the remaining thread before shoving his foot back into the boot and wiggling his toes. It was tighter than the right one, but he would be able to make do with it. Now that he has sewn the boot, he might be able to fix it better with magic once he gets back to his room. "I'm confused…" Merlin admitted after a minute of studying his boot.

"That is nothing new," Arthur quipped.

Merlin rolled his eyes and stood up from the floor, brushing off his pants and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Have you been hit in the head? How am I supposed to send anything to my mother?"

"From your salary, Merlin!" The prince drawled, jumping up to his feet as well. "Honestly, I am beginning to suspect an actual mental infliction."

"What salary?" Merlin scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "It's such an honor to serve the great Prince Arthur that there is no need for payment." He didn't mean for his tone to sound as bitter as it did and immediately felt guilty at the look of hurt that flashed across Arthur's face. "Arthur, I–"

Arthur shook his head, "Merlin, I need you to be serious for a minute. Have you been getting paid, yes or no?"

Merlin shook his head, "No." He crossed his arms over his chest as he studied Arthur's face as it got angrier and angrier. "Wait… am I supposed to get paid!?"

Arthur shook his head, "This makes no sense. All the servants get paid," he huffed out a breath of annoyance and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Merlin."

"Are you sick?" Merlin asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

"I'm serious, Merlin! I didn't know that you haven't been getting paid, you should be, and it is only because of my neglect that you haven't been." Arthur groaned, "You've never asked Gwen?"

"I did," Merlin admitted. "I knew she got paid, but I just assumed that was because she was employed here longer and that Morgana actually liked her. I assumed my payment was me being allowed to live in the castle and under the protection of Camelot."

"No– and I like you!" Arthur growled.

"Why, Sire, I'm flattered," Merlin batted his eyes, ducking when a goblet went flying towards his head.

Arthur closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose. "You are afforded the protection of Camelot and a place to stay, but you also have more privileges than that. The least being that you are actually paid to work." Arthur shot him a smirk, "Even if you are the worst manservant ever."

Merlin, who had walked over to Arthur's bed to fluff the pillows, threw one at the prince, slapping him directly in the face. "Sorry, Sire. My hand slipped." He stared, wide-eyed, as Arthur picked up the pillow and began to slowly walk towards him, eyes menacing.

Merlin held up his hands placatingly and moved, only to trip on some of Arthur's nightclothes and fell onto the bed.

Arthur, seeing an opening, jumped onto the bed and started slapping Merlin in the face with the pillow, stopping only when Merlin was able to get a foot on his thigh and shove him off the bed and unceremoniously onto the floor.

Warily, Merlin peeked over the edge of the bed and stared down at his disheveled prince. "You okay there, Sire?"

Arthur breathed heavily and jumped back onto his feet before throwing himself on the bed beside Merlin's head. "What are your official duties?"

"I'm your manservant. Are you quite sure you weren't hit on the head?"

Arthur shoved at Merlin's shoulder, "Tell me a rundown of your duties."

Merlin shoved off his boots and pushed himself more onto the bed, wiggling until he was comfortable. "I wake you in the morning, pick out your clothes, dress you, clean your bedding and clothes once a week, bring you breakfast, lunch, and dinner, take down notes, help you write and edit your speeches, clean your room, do your shopping, accompanying you on hunts, muck out the stables, walk your dogs, bring you your bathwater, deal with you in general..."

Arthur gave a huff of disbelief.

"What?"

"I think I just solved the puzzle as to why you are such a crap servant."

"Hey!"

"Merlin, you should have the other servants do many of those things. That is literally their job. It's what they are in the castle for!"

"...I don't understand." Merlin raised on an elbow so that he could look at Arthur better. "Isn't that what I've been doing?"

"Your job, your actual one, is for you to serve me. You can't do that if you have all of those chores. When I tell you I need them done, I mean that I need you to tell the other servants to do them!"

"Oh…" Merlin's eyes widened, and he shot up excitedly. "You mean, I don't have to clean your dirty socks? Why has no one ever told me!?"

Arthur chuckled, "I honestly thought you did the laundry because you got off on it."

"On what?"

"Washing my dirty socks."

"You're such a clotpole," Merlin puffed through a laugh.

Arthur sighed and got to his feet, "Come on. Get your boots on. We have to go deal with something."

"Now?" Merlin whined as he sat up and slipped on his boots. "It's late." He sighed heavily and followed Arthur out of his chambers and up the nearest stairwell. "Where are we going?"

"The Steward."

Merlin stopped in his tracks and shook his head, "Can we not? He hates me almost as much as Cook!"

"Why? What did you do to Amos?"

"Nothing!" Merlin protested, wincing as his voice echoed through the stairwell. "He hates me because I serve you. From what Gwen says, I was 'expedited' past his son or something."

Arthur snorted, "Don't get me wrong, George is a much better manservant than you, but I wouldn't survive more than a week with him as my manservant. The man makes jokes about brass for god-sakes."

"Now, that's a guy that gets off on your dirty socks," Merlin muttered darkly, causing Arthur to cough back a laugh.

They stepped onto the landing of the tower of the steward's office and quickly walked through the corridors, stopping to allow the guard to open the door before Arthur walked into Amos' office.

"You're here pretty late, Merlin." Linus grinned down at him. "Bad night at the Tavern?"

Merlin snickered and shook his head. Linus knew as well as the other Knights and guard that Merlin was rarely, if ever, at the tavern. It had become an inside joke between Merlin and them that started because Gaius wasn't as quick on his feet as he claimed to be.

Merlin leaned against the wall and smiled up at the guard. "Doing okay?"

Linus snorted, "You and the Prince are the only people I've seen all day."

"Miss the drama?" Merlin teased.

"Invariably," he said dryly.

"Merlin!" Arthur called from the office.

Merlin pushed off the wall and indicated at the office, "Well, listen in. I'm sure you'll get some entertainment from what is about to happen." He strolled into the office, hands in his pockets. "You called, Sire?"

"I'm not in here for my health, Merlin."

"Of course not, Sire," Merlin said, blinking at him. "You don't do anything for your health. The extra notch in your belt tells us that much."

Linus hid his laugh behind a cough, his shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

"Amos," Arthur turned to the steward after throwing Merlin a dramatic roll of his eyes. Official duty or not, Merlin would be mucking out the stables tomorrow for that comment.

"My Lord," Amos bowed slightly to Arthur, glaring past the Prince's shoulder to Merlin, who merely stared at him blankly, biting back a smile.

"When did Merlin start under our employ?"

"I-I'd have to check the ledger, Sire."

"Merlin?"

"Twenty-eight and a half moons, give or take a week or so." Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. "Gaius would have more accurate records. I'm not the best at keeping track of that stuff."

"Twenty-eight moons, Amos." Arthur ground out, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Sire?"

"Would you care to explain to me why Merlin has been under my service for over two years and today was the first time that he heard about any of his privileges, the fact that he has a salary, and what his job entails?"

"S-s-sire…" Amos seemed frozen in his spot, his eyes wide with disbelief. Whether it was because he got caught or because Arthur was coming at him with much more anger than one would typically warrant, given the situation involves a servant, no one could say.

"Get the employee accounts. I want to look at his account, and I'm sure Merlin would like to see how much he has to withdraw."

Amos bit his lip as he turned away from them to the bookcase behind his desk. He brushed his fingertips across several spines before stopping at a bright red book and pulling it out. He took a deep breath and went to the index before flipping to the middle of the book, where Amos had written Merlin's name at the top of the page.

The steward turned the book around, and Arthur and Merlin leaned over the desk to study the book. Merlin couldn't hold back the gasp of shock that left his mouth at what he saw.

Under his name, across pale yellow were three columns, all with dates and the continuing addition of amounts. There had to be over a hundred entries on just that page, and it continued onto the next one.

"I've never seen so much money before," Merlin muttered to himself, his eyes continuing to scan across the page.

Arthur studied him, a frown crossing his face. "Add a half-pound raise to his salary every month, and make a separate expenditure account for clothes and everything else he might need to serve me- add five pounds to that account to start, and an extra pound every six months."

"Sire!" Amos objected. "He will make more than I do!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Your point?"

"Arthur, that is way too much!" Merlin said, holding out his hands. "What I have on that page is already more than enough."

Arthur studied him for a moment before turning back to Amos. "Also, make sure you give him back-pay for being Gaius' apprentice. I don't see his pay listed here for that."

"We don't pay apprentices!"

"So, if I look at George's payroll, he will not have been paid for any of the apprentice work he did last summer?"

Amos sputtered, his eyes bulging.

"Two pounds a year is his salary for being an apprentice. While you are doing that, make sure that Gaius' expenditure account is refilled. Merlin said that they have been having difficulty buying the ingredients they need to best care for everyone. That is completely unacceptable."

"Of course, my lord."

"Arthur, that really is too much. I can help Gaius buy ingredients with my pay."

Arthur shook his head, "That money is yours. I'll worry about what Gaius needs to help Camelot."

Arthur fell silent and watched, arms crossed over his chest, as Amos corrected the accounts to Arthur's instructions. Once the man finished, Arthur nodded his head. "Thank you, Amos."

"Of course, Sire."

"One more thing before you may retire for the evening. Merlin will report to you tomorrow for orientation to the customs and routines of his job. That includes, but is not limited to, his salary, expense account, and privileges and responsibilities, as well as what he may or may not give to the other servants to do. I also want you to make a schedule for him. It should list the times and days he works for me, the times and days he works for Gaius, and, at least, a day off once a week."

"Yes, Sire. I will have him at noon tomorrow with all of that prepared."

Arthur gave him a stiff nod before shoving Merlin out the door in front of him. He stopped and glared at him once more. "Oh, and, Amos?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"I will be going through all of the records, and if in the future there is any neglect on your part, there will be dire consequences."

"Yes, Sire."

Merlin and Linus smirked at each other as he gently closed the door behind him before heading back with Arthur to his chambers. They were silent, both of them thinking about what occurred with Amos.

When the door to Arthur's chambers closed, Merlin let out a breath, "Arthur, thank you." Merlin rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "You've no idea how much this'll help."

"Think nothing of it," Arthur said dismissively. Keeping his back to Merlin, he walked over to the window and watched as the citizens of Camelot readied themselves for bed or a night at the tavern. "At least now I'll have a halfway decent servant."

"You are such a Clotpole."

AN: First Merlin Fanfiction I have ever written! It's both an exciting and nerve-wracking experience.

What did you guys think?

Keep it classy, make good choices and I hope to see you soon!

Chandlure