"Merlin," a voice called out, pulling him from a good dream. Something involving swimming in a cold stream on a very hot day. Flowing down the river with the rapid rush of water.

"Merlin!" the voice called again, much more urgently.

It was enough to rouse him, rubbing his eyes as he sat on the edge of his slim bed. "Yes, yes," he said, his voice still scratchy, "I'm up."

"Get a move on, boy," Gaius said, opening his bedroom door. He was already dressed in a burgundy robe, his silver hair combed. He gave Merlin a kind smile.

Merlin did his best to return it. Gaius had been nothing but accommodating since he had arrived a few weeks ago.

Getting out of bed, he rushed to wash up and dress, brushing his hair into some order. He could smell the oatmeal cooking over the fire, his stomach rumbling, but he tried to ignore it as he said good bye to Gaius. No time to eat now.

The castle was large, with servants like himself rushing along the many corridors. They nodded or gave quick greetings, no time to stop to chat. He headed for the kitchen first.

A few minutes later, he was running up many stairs with a heavily laden tray. Arthur's room was in the highest and grandest part of the castle, with the King's and Morgana's room nearby. Here, there weren't as many servants in the corridors.

Carefully balancing the tray with one hand, Merlin slowly opened the door. It was prone to creak, a loud irritating noise. He sighed in relief when it let him through silently.

He set the breakfast tray down, and took a second to catch his breath. The room was pretty much as he had left it last night. Beside the banked fire, there was a wooden armchair. A book, a fine crystal goblet and a wine jug rested on the small table beside it.

Merlin opened the heavy drapes on the leaded glass windows, letting in the early morning sunlight to see the room more clearly. The curtains around Arthur's four poster bed were drawn, so he knew it wouldn't bother the slumbering man inside. Soon, the fire was roaring, heating the space. The food was laid out on the table, and everything tidy.

"Um, Sir…," Merlin said softly, drawing back a curtain on the bed. This was still an uncomfortable task, waking the Prince. Seeing him asleep, his hair messy against the pillow, tangled with the bedcovers. Completely unguarded. His mouth was slightly open, his face relaxed.

There was no doubt the Prince was a very handsome man, in the prime of his life. His skin was clear and lightly tanned from spending time training outside, his blond hair shiny. But he was even more attractive as his eyes slowly opened, such a pure blue. His gaze found Merlin's, and changed from sleepy to awake.

"Good Morrow, Merlin," Arthur said, sitting up, and rolling his shoulders, stretching his back. The bedclothes slipped to his waist, his rumbled nightshirt with the string fastenings drawn loose and showing a fair bit of his chest.

"Um, Good Morrow to you as well," Merlin replied, pulling back the other bed curtains. Distracting himself from watching as Arthur got up and did some more stretches, before slipping behind the changing screen.

It was usually quiet during this period, the Prince needing some time to fully wake up. By the time he'd used the chamber pot, splashed his face with water, and dressed, he was usually alert enough to start teasing Merlin while eating his breakfast.

"You call that making a bed?" he joked, gesturing with his knife before stabbing it in to a chunk of apple.

Merlin had been leaning over the bed to pull the sheet in place. He glanced up, trying his best to not roll his eyes. "You have made a lot of beds in your time, Sir?"

Arthur grinned, catching his sarcastic tone. "No, but I've certainly seen servants making mine over the years."

"This technique seems to work for me," Merlin said, standing up to scowl down at the half-made bed. What error had he made now? This was getting quite tiresome, being thrown into this job without his consent and then being criticized about how poorly he did it.

Arthur chuckled, chomping away on his apple. "But I'm sure yours isn't this large. Most servants walk around the bed, pulling the covers into place at each corner."

Grumbling to himself, Merlin followed the directions, and did find it easier. "Why does a single man need such a large bed anyways?"

"Because I am the Prince," Arthur said, reaching for a platter of cheese, but wincing slightly. "And I'm not always in it alone."

That statement made a dozen questions pop into Merlin's brain, but none of them seemed appropriate to ask. Instead he came to stand behind Arthur. "Your shoulder is bothering you again. Do you want me to…"

"Yes. If you could…," Arthur said quickly.

A couple days ago, Arthur had been moving stiffly, and Merlin had instinctively put his hands on his right shoulder and kneaded into the tight muscles there. Arthur had initially tightened up in shock at his touch, but then relaxed into it. He had even exhaled in relief, as Merlin's strong fingers worked out the knot. Merlin had gotten the feeling that he had overstepped his role in doing it, though.

He felt relieved that Arthur agreed to it this time. His hands worked into the muscles, gently at first, and then more firmly. He had learned the techniques from his mother. As she had aged, she often suffered from a sore back.

Touching Arthur was completely different. His shoulders, upper back and arms were heavily muscled from his years of sword practice. It took longer to find the tight areas, and work them out. By the end, Merlin was massaging Arthur's neck, and the Prince's head was tilted down. Merlin's hands brushed against his soft hair often. He was tempted to push his hands into it.

The thought drew him out of the task, and he stepped back, clearing his throat. "Um, I think it's time to get you ready."

Arthur got up, walking to the window as he rolled his shoulders again. Merlin was pleased to see the motion was more fluid.

There were many steps to preparing Arthur each morning. First, there was a padded red tunic that went down to his thighs, and Merlin tied it snugly in place. The heavy chain mail was next, followed a belt with it's sheaths for the dagger and sword. Attaching the plate armour last, the heavy pieces covering his right arm and shoulders. It was amazing Arthur could walk, let alone fight, for hours, under all that weight.

Arthur was always quiet during this, his eyes distant, automatically changing his position to allow the pieces to be put into place. Merlin wondered what he was thinking about during this time, as he made sure the pieces were laying properly, and were securely attached. Was he mentally preparing himself for the upcoming gruelling exercises?

After Arthur left, Merlin sighed, looking around the room. He still had so much to do each day. He finishing tidying up the room, and carried the breakfast dishes down to the kitchens, grabbing a fresh baked roll for himself. He ate it quickly as he made his way outdoors.

An hour later, he had finished feeding the hounds and Arthur's horse, and mucked out his stall. He brought cold water and food to the practice yard, watching as Arthur ran through some archery drills with his knights. They took a break, and Arthur walked over to Merlin.

Pulling off his helmet, Merlin could see Arthur's hair was soaked with sweat. It was no wonder he guzzled down the water, replacing what he had lost. There was fruit, bread and cheese, and Arthur made it all disappear.

When Arthur went back to his drills, Merlin took the tray back to the kitchens and carried the lunch tray up to Arthur's chambers. As a servant, you quickly learned to never go any where without carrying something. He set out the food, covered with domes, and started heating up some water over a big fire. He put a large old sheet over the floor.

When Arthur returned from his morning exercises, Merlin had him stand on the sheet as he removed the pieces. Often there was dirt, grass and leaves imbedded in the chain mail, and the sheet caught it all.

Stripped down, Arthur stepped into the wash basin and sat on the bathing stool, close to the fire. Merlin always passed him a cloth dipped in warm water right away, and Arthur spread it over his lap to cover up. It was a quick bathing process, with Arthur lathering up, and Merlin rinsing him clean. Merlin washed his back, and his hair. It was strangely intimate, digging his hands into Arthur's soapy, wet hair, and scrubbing over his scalp. Arthur's head tilted back, his eyes closed. Relaxed under his touch, his nearness, even though he was almost naked. He turned to give Arthur time at the end to stand and wash his more intimate areas, and then passed him towels warmed by the fire.

Arthur dressed in his most casual clothing then, a tunic and trousers. Merlin towelled his hair and combed it out, allowing it to dry while Arthur ate his lunch.

Afterwards, Arthur headed to his bed for a rest, the curtains pulled closed to make it dark and quiet. Merlin cleaned away the bath things, and took the lunch dishes and laundry downstairs. He was able to eat a quick lunch then. By the time he got back to the chamber, it was time to rouse Arthur from his nap.

Arthur never complained, knowing his duties, and headed down to the great hall. He sat at his father's side, learning the role of the King. Presiding over disputes, negotiating with other leaders, planning meetings with his staff.

Merlin was still busy during that time. He cleaned the armour and chain mail for the next day, and set out the clothes for the evening. He was just grateful there was a laundry in the castle, so he didn't have to handle cleaning three sets of clothing a day. He often checked on Arthur, bringing him wine and refreshments, running errands for him. If he was lucky, he could steal away to his own room for an hour or so with Gaius, helping him with his experiments and preparing medicines.

"Who is dining with you tonight?" Merlin asked, as he helped Arthur into a heavy embroidered doublet, and fastened the small buttons that ran down the front. "You don't usually dress up this much."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "The King's newest shipment of potential wives," he sighed, tugging the cuffs on his linen shirt to show below the doublet.

"The King is marrying again?" Merlin joked, picking up a hairbrush.

"Wives for me, you idiot," Arthur said, his affectionate tone taking the bite out of his words.

Merlin liked that Arthur played along with his banter. They spent too much time in this chamber, alone, together, to allow it to be awkward.

"Wives! How many do you think you'll need?"

Arthur smirked. "Well, ideally, one for each day of the week… but the Church seems to frown on that type of thing."

"You can apparently have many wives, but not all at once. Sequentially," Merlin quipped back, finishing with brushing Arthur's hair and stepping back to assess how he looked.

He looked like a Prince. The doublet was a deep indigo, with gold embroidery and piping, tailored to fit Arthur's torso snugly. His matching trousers were tucked into black boots. A slim black belt encircled his trim waist, and a heavily bejewelled dagger hung at his side.

"Will I do?" Arthur drawled, making Merlin jump, caught looking a bit too long.

"Um, yes, I guess. There's only so much one can do with fine clothing," Merlin said with a shrug.

Arthur grinned. "Now don your own uniform. I need you nearby to keep my wine goblet full. It's the only thing that will make this evening bearable."

-A/N: Ack! This is my first Merlin story, so please be gentle. I've watched the whole series but I haven't rewatched it many times/studied it like I often do before writing fanfics. Please excuse my errors.

-This is only 3 short chapters long, and it's complete. I'll be posting the rest soon.