It was only after sorting through Arthur's papers that Merlin realized how much he didn't actually know about Arthur's duties. He had thought he knew what Arthur did and how he did it. After all, Merlin helped him file his papers, sorted through the important and the unimportant ones, occasionally wrote speeches for him, and prepared him for each day as prince regent. Surely holding down the fort for a couple of weeks shouldn't be that hard.

And it was true, Merlin was good at sorting out the important papers from the unimportant ones—most of the time. He was good at writing speeches—that half the time served only as outlines for Arthur. He was half-decent at scheduling, though half the time, Arthur had to correct him as Merlin had overestimated the political importance of one function and underestimated the political importance of another.

Merlin groaned and thumped his head down on Arthur's desk. There was one inherent thing he lacked for this job that he didn't think he could ever make up. Arthur had an innate understanding of Camelot, of what made the processes run and kept the people happy and healthy and loyal to him. Arthur had earned the love of his people through his hard work and sacrifice.

And Merlin? Merlin wasn't even from Camelot. Sure, he understood nature, magic, destiny, physical health, and servantry better than Arthur, and his different perspective made him able to give Arthur good advice, but that didn't mean Merlin would make a good king. He didn't want to be king. Would he appreciate a higher-ranking position? Yes, he would. Did he want to be recognized for the magical work he used to save Camelot? Yes, he did. Did that translate to "I want to be the king of Camelot"? No, it freaking did not!

Gwen stepped into the room, chuckling. "You look lost, Merlin."

"I didn't want this! I don't know what to do! How does Arthur do this every day?"

"He's been trained for this role since birth," Gwen said. "You just got it today. Give it some time."

"I don't want time, I want Arthur to take over," Merlin said. He picked up a paper. "Look at this. The Camelot Poetry Festival invites the Pendragon family to make a speech inaugurating the event on Jupiter's Day this week. Uther obviously can't go, and Arthur is too young at the moment."

"I guess that leaves you," Gwen said.

Merlin struck a wide smile. "How about you, Gwen? I bet you love poetry."

"What, because I'm a girl? Don't you remember, I'm not a Pendragon?" Gwen pressed.

"But you will be!" Merlin protested. What did it matter that Arthur hadn't proposed yet? He would eventually, and that was all that mattered.

Gwen blushed. "We don't know that."

Merlin rolled her eyes. "You have true love's kiss with him. How could he not choose you?"

Gwen's blush deepened. "I think we're getting off the subject."

Merlin sighed. "Yeah. Think you could help?"

Gwen pulled up a chair and sighed herself. "I can do my best, but I make no guarantees."

Merlin grinned. "It's good practice for when you become Arthur's queen."

"Shut up," Gwen said. "Or I won't help you."

"Arthur's rubbing off," Merlin said.

Gwen shoved him. "Stop it. You're as bad as Elyan."

Merlin chuckled. "All right, all right." As Gwen bent over the papers, he whispered, "True love's kiss."

Gwen kicked him under the desk.

MERLIN

Words swam in Merlin's head. He stumbled down the halls. All he wanted to do was collapse in bed. It would be nice to have a bath as well, but he didn't fancy hauling any water, so that wouldn't be happening. He wrenched open the door to Gaius's chambers.

"What on earth are you doing in here?" Gaius asked.

"You're joking, right?" Merlin asked. "I live here. These are my chambers."

"Not anymore, they're not," Gaius said.

"Very funny." Merlin plopped himself down on the nearest table. "What's for dinner?"

"Your dinner isn't here. It's in your chambers," Gaius said.

"These are my chambers," Merlin said.

Gaius stood firm, staring down at Merlin.

"Gaius?"

"You're the prince regent now," Gaius said. "You have far better chambers now, my boy."

But Merlin liked his chambers. This wasn't fair. Stupid Arthur and his stupid gestures of friendship. "What about Arthur?" Merlin asked.

Gaius sighed. "I'm afraid he's been returned to his own chambers."

Merlin's heart thumped. He had to be so scared, all alone with no one to comfort him. "Alone? And you let them? He's just a baby!"

"No, I'm not!" Arthur said indignantly. His voice was muffled.

Merlin spun. Tiny Arthur popped out of a barrel in the front of Gaius's chambers.

"I wanna practice magic!" Arthur climbed out of the barrel and ran to Merlin's room, emerging with the staff.

Merlin groaned and kneaded his forehead. "Arthur, not today."

Arthur stomped his foot. "You promised!"

"It's too late. I'm too tired." Merlin was well aware they were just excuses, but he didn't know the first thing about teaching magic. Especially when that magic had to be channeled through a highly explosive staff. "Maybe tomorrow."

"That's what you said yesterday!" Arthur protested. He stomped his foot again. "I command you to teach me magic. Right now!"

"I'm the prince regent at the moment, so I currently outrank you." Merlin's temples throbbed. He stood up and took hold of the staff. "Let go, Arthur."

"No!" Arthur braced his feet on the floor and tugged. "You let go! Teach me magic!"

"No!" Merlin said. He tugged back. "Let go, Arthur!"

"Nooooo!" Arthur screamed.

They both tugged at once. The staff jolted. Magic flew out of it into Merlin's bedroom.

They dropped the staff as one. Merlin bolted into the bedroom. His bed was on fire, and on the bed was Sir Bear, blazing away.

"Oh no," Merlin said. He held out his hand. "Nanraebrof!"

The fire died. Merlin snatched up Sir Bear. Half his head was burned away, and the rest of the body was scorched black. His mouth went dry. Maybe Arthur wouldn't notice.

Arthur screamed, which melted into tears. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" He bolted out of Gaius's chambers, slamming the door behind him.

Merlin stood staring after him, unable to move, his heart pounding and his legs growing a tad shaky. "Oh, no," he repeated.

A/N: I didn't actually use old English…I just wrote forbaernan backwards. I was lazy.