A/N - I might do Merlin's perspective of this at some point, but for now it seemed to work better with just Arthur's.

I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think!

(I still don't own 'Merlin' but I can dream, can't I?)

-JKelly

Ineptitude

n. - lack of skill or ability

Arthur had never met a more inept servant than Merlin.

Lord Cenwyn was an important visitor to Camelot. A dignitary of the Order of the Slaugh from the Far Western Lands who was in Camelot to sign a treaty between their kingdoms, impressing him may well be the difference between making a staunch ally or a sworn enemy, and as such, the King had decided that the Crown Prince's own manservant would be assigned to look after him.

Arthur, of course, could have told his father that this would turn out to be a terrible idea. While Merlin's particular brand of cleaning was good enough for Arthur, who wasn't particularly bothered by the odd smudge or cobweb, and he rather enjoyed the distinct lack of respect that Merlin showed towards him when they weren't under the watchful eye of the king, he had been certain that Merlin would have great difficulty behaving in the way a 'proper' servant should for Lord Cenwyn. Even if he somehow managed to perform every one of his tasks to perfection, Arthur had been sure that at some point, Merlin would give in to the urge to make a sarcastic comment or snarky remark.

It was after one such remark had caused Lord Cenwyn to angrily request Merlin's immediate execution in front of the entire court that Arthur found himself on his way to the guest chambers with the intention of making peace.

He had to admit, Lord Cenwyn was certainly an odd character. The way that he sometimes spoke made him seem as though he wasn't used to spending much time with others, like he'd been holed up alone in a castle somewhere for the last fifty years. Still, that was really no excuse for some of the things that Merlin had said about him. In front of the court, including Arthur's father, Merlin had accused Lord Cenwyn of having 'died hundreds of years ago' and being 'literally a malicious spirit resurrected', which was frankly ridiculous even for him. It had been a close thing between Uther ordering Merlin's execution just to please the Lord and his listening to Arthur and Gaius' rapidly concocted story about some bad rabbit and a delirium-causing fever.

Arthur took a deep breath to compose himself before knocking on Lord Cenwyn's door. When he received no response, he knocked again, louder. After the third time, he pushed open the door.

Whatever he had been expecting to see, it wasn't this.

Merlin stood in the middle of the chambers, looking rather frazzled, while the dust that hung thick enough in the air to make it difficult to see across the room began to settle on the surfaces. Lord Cenwyn was nowhere to be seen. Upon hearing the door open, Merlin turned his head rapidly in Arthur's direction like a startled deer.

"Art-"

Any greeting or explanation that Merlin may have been trying to convey was lost amongst a series of coughs and splutters as Merlin breathed in the dusty air.

"Merlin!" Arthur hissed. "What have you done!?" Shaking off his initial shock, he held his breath, strode into the room, grabbed Merlin's arm, and pulled him out into the corridor.

"I know that you're not the best servant out there, Merlin, but surely even you couldn't let a room get to this state! Honestly, if this is the sort of thing Lord Cenwyn's been getting from you, I'm hardly surprised he wanted to have you killed…"

"Arthur, you don't understand-"

"Oh, I think I understand well enough. You were mad at Cenwyn and so somehow deposited all this dust into his chambers as some sort of idiotic revenge."

"No, Arthur-"

"I suppose you have a better explanation?"

"I...actually, no. You're right. That's exactly what happened." Something about the statement didn't quite ring true for Arthur, but he was too pleased at being proved right to examine any misgivings too closely.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

"Merlin...aren't you supposed to be in the dungeons, 'recovering from your illness'?"

"Um…" Merlin looked away shiftily, clearly feeling guilty.

"Did you really escape the dungeons specifically to get revenge on Lord Cenwyn, breaking about twelve different laws in the process?"

"Probably a few more laws than that…" Merlin mumbled. In the interest of not having to re-arrest his best friend, Arthur chose to ignore him.

"You really are an idiot. A total imbecile. A complete and utter moron!"

"Ok, Arthur, I think I get the idea."

"I'm not sure that you do! You broke out of the dungeons to get revenge on a visiting lord. Do you even understand the sort of trouble you'll be in if you get caught?!"

"If I get caught? You mean you're not going to turn me in?"

Arthur only glared at Merlin, slightly hurt that his friend thought he would just turn him in to his father, after everything.

"Oh don't worry Merlin, we haven't finished talking about this. You are going to be cleaning out the stables for a month, and the stocks have been looking a little empty recently...but I'm not turning you over to my father. After what happened this morning, I think he really would have you executed, and I don't have the time to train up a new manservant right now." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and took some calming breaths. It was clearly going to be up to him to get them out of this. He just needed a plan...

"Merlin. If you can get out of the dungeons - which you shouldn't be able to, by the way - then I'm sure you can get back in. In the meantime, I will find a decent servant to clean this room, and inform Cenwyn that there has been an outbreak of woodworm in the main guest chambers, so he'll have to be moved across the hall."

"You, uh, really don't need to move Lord Cenwyn. He's gone." Merlin had the decency to look slightly sheepish at his confession, but it did little to temper Arthur's immediate panic.

"What do you mean he's gone?"

Merlin glanced back at the dust covered room.

"I mean he's...gone. I don't think he's coming back."

Arthur stared at Merlin for a moment, and then it clicked.

"He's already seen the room and left Camelot, hasn't he. Merlin, you may just have started a war between the Order of the Slaugh and Camelot! There's no chance of getting him to sign the treaty now…"

"Oh," exclaimed Merlin, "the treaty! That's not a problem Arthur, he already signed it."

"What?" Arthur couldn't help but feel that this would have been useful information to know several minutes ago.

"Yeah, hold on…" Merlin inhaled a final lungful of clean air before delving back into the dust-filled guest chamber again, where he seemed to root around for about a minute. When he emerged, covered in even more grime than before, he was holding a dusty parchment that had Camelot's ideal treaty terms on, a signature from Lord Cenwyn, and the seal of the Order of the Slaugh.

"How…"

"Just my natural charm and wit, I suppose."

Arthur looked at Merlin appraisingly.

"Good work, Merlin."

Merlin grinned and shrugged his shoulders, causing a cloud of dust to billow up around him.

"Now get back to the dungeons before anyone notices you're missing."

"Ah...alright then." Merlin turned to leave and began walking down the corridor, leaving a trail of dust behind him.

"And Merlin? Dust yourself off would you? You're getting it everywhere."

Merlin only grinned wider.

"No problem Arthur."

Arthur had never met a more inept servant than Merlin. But maybe, just maybe, there were other areas that he was skilled in.

Arthur just hoped that one such hidden talent was sneaking into castle dungeons, because if he was caught, he was fairly sure he couldn't explain this one to his father.

In fact, he was left with the distinct impression that he didn't really understand what had happened himself.