Arthur

10:30 Get Merlin changed for the town hall, polish the armor and sword after training

Arthur walked back to his chambers with Merlin. It briefly occurred to him that he should technically be walking behind Merlin as his servant, but Merlin had long since stopped trailing behind Arthur and had seemingly always walked beside the king like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You've been holding back on me this entire time!" Arthur accused.

"What happened back there is not happening again." Merlin told him. And it wouldn't; he couldn't use magic when sparring with Arthur. He still didn't know of Merlin's magic and trying to repeatedly use it in close quarters such as sparring was certainly a bad idea.

"That was almost good. Or at least it would have been had you not fallen on your face. Why can't you fight like that during our training?"

Merlin huffed good naturedly. "There's nothing to fight for when we train. I'm in this challenge to win."

"Nothing to fight for?!" Arthur exclaimed in annoyance. "Merlin, I make you do those trainings so you don't die when you insist on following me into battle! You're fighting for your life."

Merlin shrugged. "I'm always risking that. This time there was something more important than everyday training." Arthur glared at him, appalled, as Merlin swiftly changed the subject. "The next task on my list is to hold the town hall. I need you to dress me and then polish my armor and sword. Luckily for you, I only used a training sword so it's blunt enough that you won't cut yourself." One surefire way to distract Arthur was to insult him so he would defend himself and forget the original conversation. And Merlin really didn't want to discuss why he never tried his hardest during their trainings. A sword wasn't very useful when he usually had to defend against magic.

"Merlin!" Merlin's distraction worked. "You're the one who injures yourself doing the most basic of tasks. It's a miracle you haven't lopped off a hand trying to polish my sword."

Merlin rolled his eyes as they approached the King's bedchambers. He ignored Arthur as he made a few more comments about Merlin's ineptitude and pointedly held his arms out so Arthur would get the hint and begin to remove his armor.

Ducking behind the changing screen, he reminded Arthur, "We put my ceremonial outfit on the top of the stack in the wardrobe."

"I remember." Arthur grumbled as he moved to get it. He had, in fact, not remembered. They (Gwen) had chosen a dark pair of trousers with tall, unadorned boots, and a jacket strongly resembling Arthur's favorite, but in a deep blue color. Arthur smirked, passing the clothes over the changing screen; this challenge finally gave him an excuse to get Merlin a nice outfit that he could then force Merlin to wear for formal occasions in the future.

Merlin fidgeted after Arthur helped him into the jacket.

"Merlin, you can't squirm like that. You need to look regal, or at least as regal as you could ever manage to look."

"I look fine! It's just that this material moves differently and I don't like it."

"Of course you would manage to not like the best fabrics money can buy." Arthur smoothed the fabric of Merlin's jacket, using it as an excuse to squeeze both the man's shoulders to get him to stop moving.

"Well I'm not the one who picked it out, so you can't blame me."

"I most certainly can. Now stop fidgeting, you need to leave soon to make it to the throne room on time."

"Yes, I'm aware, I'm the one that gets you there on time every week."

Arthur protested that claim, shoving Merlin out the door as he did so. Harold, who had been waiting at the door, trailed quietly behind the two, amused by their banter.

Despite the fast pace they took to get to the throne room. Arthur stopped Merlin in front of the doors. "Don't traumatize any of my citizens with your decision making skills."

Merlin grinned sarcastically. "Of course not, Arthur." His words did not reassure the rightful king.

Arthur trudged back to find Harold who he had lost somewhere on the way to the throne room. He criticized the servant silently. Who could get lost while following someone? After a moment he reevaluated his rhetorical question. Other than Merlin, who could get lost while following someone?

He found Harold two hallways back, chatting up another handmaiden. He really would have to have a discussion with Merlin about his choice of friends.

Thankfully, the handmaiden excused herself as Arthur approached and he took his chance to ask about his next chore. "Where can I find an oil rag? Is there one in one of the broom cabinets?"

"I don't know. We can check."

"Why don't you know, isn't that why I have you following me around? To tell me where things are?" Arthur asked. He wasn't harsh with his words, but it did annoy him slightly that Harold didn't know what seemed to him to be basic information.

Harold looked unimpressed; Merlin had taught him well. "I've—personally—never had to polish armor, that's all done by the knight's squires; Merlin is the only servant to polish and handle armor. We can check the armory, there should be a supplies cabinet there."

Arthur groaned. Harold didn't even know everything Merlin had to do day to day. How was he supposed to help Arthur if he didn't even know what to do? And, Arthur thought, Guinevere used to handle armor when she was a servant, it can't be that Merlin is the only servant to do it now.

They rushed out towards the armory at a brisk pace, only being stopped by one squire—Johnathan—who asked Arthur to take a few swords back to the rack. Arthur was really starting to get annoyed at the detours from doing his job, but he widened his only slightly fake smile and agreed to whatever was asked of him. He was just lucky that this time the request involved going in the same direction he was already going.

It took him much longer than he anticipated to find a single oil rag that he could use to polish Merlin's armor. By the time he made it back up to his chambers, he was behind schedule.

Harold offered no advice this time as Arthur rushed to complete this chore. It was blissfully silent and Arthur was grateful that he knew what he was doing; the first thing one learned as a knight was how to take care of your equipment. He let the repetitive movement melt away the frustration that had been building up all morning. Was this why polishing armor always seemed to be Merlin's favorite chore? Did he get this frustrated every day?

The breastplate, sword, and chainmail gleamed. It was gorgeous work and Arthur took a moment to admire it; he was proud and just a bit smug; he'd certainly get a lot of points for this. Or whatever system Gwen and Leon decided to use to determine the winner.

Once he had neatly stacked the armor and sword on the table in the back corner of the room—where it was supposed to go—he pulled out his schedule. Next he had to wash the floor. That meant carrying another bucket of water.

Arthur groaned loudly earning him a confused look from Harold.