I'm so sorry for the late update. Between the holidays, finals, and a bit of the dreaded writer's block, this chapter is way, way overdue. And it's a short one. *Throws out chapter and runs away*
Step 3: Perfect the Art of Excuses
Even when hiding your magic, there are times it must be used. And when you are off using magic, you miss other things. Say, your job. Or dinner. Even if you are essentially a hermit, at some point, you will be missed. So excuses are key.
If you are often "skiving off your job" (aka: saving the prat's ungrateful life), then you need a variety of excuses. Some of mine have not been exemplary, while others should be used as a reference to formulate your own. For example, "Looking for woodworms" does not go over terribly well. "Gathering herbs for Gaius" is a very good one (though there is the slight chance I may have overused it).
Excuses are the bread and butter of hiding magic. Missing from work? Oh, I was out gathering herbs. Get separated from the rest of the group? I got lost. Battling to the death with a priestess of the old religion? I was visiting my sick mum. See? Easy.
"Merlin. Merlin. Merlin!"
Arthur threw something at the wall, then waited for a few seconds. Huh. The clot wasn't just dawdling. He was late. Grumbling, the prince climbed out of bed and padded over to the table. Nope, no breakfast. After ringing the service bell, which a prince should never have to use, George brought his breakfast up and served him with precision befitting a King. George was the perfect servant; demure, accommodating, always on time, precise, and boring. Arthur was so bored.
The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion, with George attending to his every need. Arthur was definitely not worried about Merlin. He wasn't worried that the clumsy oaf had fallen and broke his neck. Or kidnapped. Not at all.
Dinner came and went without any sign of Merlin. Only when it was time to turn the bed down did the oaf decide to show up. Arthur, who was reviewing troop movements for Camelot's borders, caught a glimpse of a blue neckerchief out of the corner of his eye. Of course he promptly threw a shoe at the blur of blue.
"Did the great Merlin finally deign to show up for work?"
No response. Arthur looked expectantly at his manservant, who was rubbing his head and picking up the shoe. "Well? I trust you have a good excuse?"
The boy still said nothing, merely made a face and mimed something or another. Or just flapped his arms. One could never tell with Merlin, the boy was prone to flailing about. "Use your words, Merlin. I would absolutely love to hear your excuse before I send you to the stocks".
Arthur was rather pleased with his own intellect. Merlin hated the stocks. Even the mere threat of them would lead to bellyaching about the unfairness of a servant's life and Arthur in general. But still no response came. Finally, the elven boy's face appeared in front of his. After nimbly snatching Arthur's quill and paper, the dolt wrote something in the chicken scratch he called handwriting and shoved it in Arthur's face.
I lost my voice you prat!
Arthur grinned. Oh, this was too good to be true. Raising one eyebrow, he sent his best smirk at the manservant. "Fantastic! So I'll get a couple days of peace and quiet? Without your constant yammering?"
Merlin glared at him and scratched something else.
One week, Gaius says. And I will be sure to make my thoughts known in other ways, your royal highness.
Arthur thought for a moment. "Why were you late, then? Your voice doesn't affect any part of your job description. In fact, you might actually get your work done without the distraction of incessant blabbering".
Another glare. Then, the daft servant's face slowly contorted into that sorry expression he called a smirk.
Was unconscious earlier today. Gaius said he sent George to attend to you. Did you miss me?
As if. Arthur's life was much calmer without the obnoxious idiot bumbling through it. Arthur frowned at the servant. Because of the previously mentioned idiocracy. Definitely not because he was worried about an illness that could render its victim unconscious and without a voice. "Of course not. George is the perfect servant. You, on the other hand, are nowhere close. What I would like to know is how you managed to lose your voice and be rendered unconscious in such a short amount of time? I saw you last night and you were perfectly fine".
Merlin hesitated.
I may have accidently tasted one of Gaius's experiments instead of my dinner. But it was on the table and looked like milk. Not my fault.
All Arthur could do was laugh until Merlin stalked away, clearly fed up with the prince. As the servant pouted down the hallway, Merlin smiled to himself. Arthur never needed to know the voice loss was in fact a curse. Another evil sorcerer broke into the castle last night to assassinate Arthur, though this particular sorcerer was not bright enough to avoid Merlin's magical alarms under the castle. Now, he just needed to tell Gaius what excuse he gave Arthur. If he didn't, the old man would probably tell him Merlin was in the tavern again. The man had no imagination.