A/N: Hello dear readers, hope you're doing all right during these crazy times. My country is in a lock down at the moment, so I found myself with some time at hand ;) and wanted to write a bit non sciency stuff.

So, a Merlin fic, I thought. Why not? Be warned, though, I haven't watched the show in some time and have a lousy memory in general. So... there ya go. I'd place this in the fourth or fifth season. Not quite sure. Just go with the flow. The story centres around Merlin's and Arthur's relationship (non romantic, though). We'll have lots of other characters as well. Gwaine, Morgana, Leon, Gwen. No Mordred, though. Didn't like him all that much in the show.

Also, this fic is M mainly for descriptions of violence. It's the middle ages with sword fights and what not. Don't blame me.

Anyway, here's the prologue. You're of course very welcome to review or PM me. Without further ado, have fun!

Prologue

"Come on," Merlin said, grin on his face. "Up you go."

Arthur gave nothing more than an unintelligible grunt and Merlin chuckled as he ripped open the curtains, letting in bright sunlight.

"Merlin," Arthur grumbled and pulled the blanket over his face. "Go 'way."

"No," Merlin decided amusedly and pulled the blanket away from his friend. "You're already late as it is."

Clear blue eyes glared up at him and Arthur groused, "And who's fault is that?"

An innocent look painted on his face, Merlin shrugged his shoulders. Arthur's glare darkened and Merlin couldn't help it as his lips curved into a grin. As Arthur still made no move to finally get up from his four-poster bed, Merlin simply grabbed him by the wrist. Without warning, he pulled at the king and Arthur yelped as he tumbled into an undignified pile on the stone floor beside his bed.

"Mer-lin!" Arthur growled, furiously trying to untangle himself from the bedding. "I swear to God…"

Merlin had by now lost interest in the grumpy king and instead rummaged through his wardrobe. He pulled a white linen shirt from a stack and eyed it critically. Then he added smallclothes and dark breeches before he grabbed Arthur's red doublet delicately decorated with fine gold threads at the hems. That would probably do, Merlin decided and carefully draped everything over the folding screen at one corner of Arthur's bedroom. He turned around to the king and furrowed his brow. By now Arthur had at least managed to get up and rubbed a hand through his golden hair.

"What are you doing?" Merlin nagged. "Hurry up. Come on."

Annoyed frown on his face, Arthur grabbed one of his pillows and unceremoniously threw it at Merlin. Merlin, having seen that one coming a mile away, simply caught the pillow and flashed Arthur a wide grin. The king rolled his eyes at his servant and finally stepped behind the dressing screen.

"If I wasn't so tired," Arthur's muffled voice came from behind the screen. "I'd put you in the stocks for this."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you would, Sire."

Carefully, he arranged the king's breakfast on the table, a few slices of tender venison, cheese, white bread, and an assortment of fruits. Finally, Arthur emerged and, as Merlin noted, looked at least half-way presentable in his clothes. He munched on a stolen piece of apple as he mused that he'd have to get the king's red cape before they went to the council meeting. And the crown. Never forget the crown. Arthur sat down at the table and Merlin poured him some water.

"Are you prepared for the council meeting?" Merlin chatted away while Arthur ate.

"Sure," Arthur mumbled around a piece of bread. "The whole affair might bore me right back into sleep. I can only hope."

The warlock grinned at that. He gave Arthur a deep mock bow and quipped, "Don't worry, Your Highness. If that happens, I'll just chuck a pitcher of water at you."

The king threw him a stern look, though he was belied by the mirth dancing in his eyes. Arthur shrugged and sassed, "Well, if anything, that would at least stop the boredom."

"For sure," Merlin chuckled.

.+.

Arthur strode towards the council chamber while trying to ban the displeasure from his face. He must not have been that successful, because the servants he came upon quickly bustled out of his way after hasty curtsies and bows. Arthur crinkled his nose. He'd much rather jump on his trusted charger and ride out for a hunting trip. But, no, he had to sit around with a bunch of dusty noblemen. Barely, he managed to keep a sigh from falling from his lips.

"Really," Merlin told him dryly. "It's not that bad."

The manservant walked beside Arthur and threw him a chiding look. Idly, Arthur wondered if Merlin was aware that his insolent behaviour towards a king would've normally got him a flogging …if nothing worse. Just daring to walk right beside the king, instead of three steps behind, would be reason enough to throw him in the dungeons for a week. Merlin might know that, but had simply decided not to care. Arthur rolled his eyes. Who was he kidding? Merlin definitely knew. Tiredly, the royal pinched the bridge of his nose while the servant continued to shuffle on right beside him.

"The councilmen will drone on forever," Arthur complained and he did not sound whiney. Not at all.

Merlin threw him a grin. "Maybe you should've thought about that before you decided to be king."

"Who else would do it?" the king threw his servant a dry look. "Hm? You?"

Now Merlin pursed his lips in consideration. After a moment, he drawled right back, "Now, King Merlin. Does have a nice ring to it, no?"

Arthur threw him an unimpressed look before he cuffed him over the back of his head.

"Oi," Merlin complained, dancing a step away. "What was that for?"

"Yeah," another voice piped in. "What're you doing with our favourite little servant, there?"

Arthur suppressed a tired groan and, sure enough, just a few steps ahead, he found Sir Gwaine casually leaned against the corridor wall. An easy grin hung from Gwaine's lips as he gave the king an over-exaggerated bow. Arthur rolled his eyes. He would never question why Gwaine and Merlin were such good friends. At least Leon was there as well. The knight greeted the king with a swift bow,

"My lord."

Finally, someone who showed the proper decorum. Gwaine remained immune to Leon's good example. He threw the king a cheeky grin, stepped over to Merlin and slung an arm around the other man's shoulders. Smirk still in place, the knight asked,

"Did the big bad king bully you?"

Of course, Merlin painted a decidedly innocent look on his face. Jutting out his lower lip, the servant complained,

"He always does."

"Don't be such a girl's blouse," Arthur told him dryly.

The servant gasped and theatrically grabbed his chest, as if mortally offended. Gwaine laughed and Arthur was pretty sure at his expense. Even Leon chuckled softly. The king rolled his eyes. He really should chuck the lot of them into the dungeons. See if they liked that. Instead, Arthur turned to Leon and inquired,

"Did you talk with Percival?"

"Yes, Sire," Leon replied. "He'll take over training for today. I told him to have the recruits practice with the crossbow."

Leon, always concise and dependable. Typical military man, Arthur decided. At least one knight that wasn't an unruly ruffian. The king threw Gwaine a suspicious look, but the knight pointedly ignored that. Arthur gave up and simply continued his way to the council chambers. At least the other men followed, though still joking around. They had almost reached the entrance as Merlin once again stepped closer to Arthur.

"Here," the servant said and stuffed a roll of parchment into Arthur's hand.

The king frowned at him and Merlin grinned. "I wrote down the agenda of today's meeting. God knows, it's probably all slipped out of your head again."

Arthur looked down at the parchment in his hand and a small smile curled his lips. Sure, Merlin was a little pest, lazy and clumsy, but sometimes he had his lucid moments. Swiftly, he studied Merlin's handwriting. The servant had copied down all the important points. Very concise, although Arthur had only told Merlin about this in passing. There had been so much going on lately, he'd actually forgotten about half of it. Merlin hadn't, though, but had copied it down for Arthur.

"Thanks," the royal said softly and rolled the parchment up again.

Merlin just shrugged and waved a dismissive hand as if it were nothing. Finally, the king entered the council chambers. Instantly, a hushed silence fell over the assembled councilmen and all of them bowed deep to their liege lord. Arthur's heels clacked loudly on the stone floor as he strode over to his high-backed chair at the head to the long table. This time, Merlin had fallen back and kept three steps behind Arthur. His right-hand side felt empty without the servant.

Arthur sat down on the chair, cape falling regally around his shoulders. The councilmen once again bowed to him before they as well took their seats. Arthur had to stop himself to fidget on his chair. Did that really have to be so uncomfortable? he wondered, slightly annoyed. He couldn't see him, but Arthur knew that Merlin had assumed his place standing behind the king's chair, head bowed and a pitcher of water in his hand. Carefully, Arthur unrolled the parchment in front of him on the table. He'd rather die before he admitted it out loud but it was incredibly reassuring to know Merlin was close. His index finger lying on the first entry of Merlin's list, Arthur let his gaze wander over the nobles and convened,

"Thank you for attending this council meeting. I suggest we start right away." His gaze wandered to one of the lords who wore a garishly green coat. "Lord Baudwin, what news do you bring of the tax collection process? I hear some of the hamlets up north struggled this winter. Do they need respite?"

Baudwin stood up and gave Arthur a bow, twirling his hand in an overdone manner, while a self-important look hung from the old man's features. Arthur had to struggle to keep his sigh in. He swore, though, that he heard a soft snort coming from Merlin.

"Your Highness," Baudwin started pompously, one hand twirling his moustache. "I assure you, I work tirelessly to ensure the royal treasury will receive the coin that it is due. Why, I myself sent, like I always do, none but my best, most trusted men to travel to every village and hamlet to collect Your Majesty's taxes. Let me assure you, Sire, that I personally and very diligently oversee all of the steps of the tax collecting process. If there would ever be a village, however small, that struggles under the taxes which, by all rights, are Your Highness' God given right, then I would be well informed and I would not hesitate to-"

Baudwin droned on and on about what had been a simple 'yes' or 'no' question. Dear God, Arthur groaned inwardly while he kept all emotion but polite interest from showing on his face. If Baudwin continued like that, Merlin would have to throw that pitcher at Arthur after all, because he already felt drowsy.

.

Arthur had been right. Not that Merlin would ever tell the prat, though. The warlock suppressed a yawn. But, yes, this was indeed horribly boring. With blurry eyes, he watched Lord Cador and Sir Degore squabble on. The two men glowered darkly and seemed to have forgotten the presence of their king. Instead, they were busy yelling at each other. A screaming match would normally have managed to jostle Merlin from his drowsy state, but it was well known that Lord Cador and Sir Degore hated each other. Truly, it wasn't a real council meeting without those two trying to murder each other.

"I need more men," Lord Cador decided sharply. "It is as simple as that."

Sir Degore, face purple with anger, glared at the man. "And where do you suggest we take the additional soldiers from? Hm? They're not growing on the trees, do they?"

Wonder when harvest season would be, Merlin deadpanned. He must've whispered something along those lines out loud, because he could see the hint of a smile on Arthur's lips. Meanwhile, Lord Cador threw up his arms in frustration and snapped,

"So, what's your solution? Let that Saxon scum just wander about and raid my villages?"

Sir Degore drowned the other man in a vitriolic look and irritably crossed his arms in front of his chest. Like speaking to someone he deemed dim-witted, the knight slowly explained, "No, but need I remind you that you are the Lord of your lands? Thus, it is your responsibility to provide your people with protection. The crown is not obliged to jump to your rescue when you can't do your job."

"Preposterous!" Cador exclaimed, anger twisting his face. "I will not stand being insulted by you, sir."

Merlin watched as the lord now tugged at his glove, probably intending to throw it at Degore. Well, the servant mused, it wouldn't be the first council meeting that ended with a duel.

"Please," Arthur now spoke up, annoyed frown between his eyebrows. "Calm yourselves."

Both men turned to the king, although it didn't do anything about that belligerent glint in their eyes. There was a calm expression on the king's face. By the slight twitch at the corner of his left eye, though, Merlin could tell that Arthur was quite vexed. The royal still managed to keep all anger from his controlled voice as he said,

"It is indeed a lord's duty to protect his fiefdom and his people." Here Sir Degore threw a snide look at Lord Cador. Arthur ignored that and continued, "At this point Saxon pillagers might be an isolated problem, but we cannot risk it getting out of hand. So, in this case, the crown will make an exception and provide help."

The king turned to the commander of his army and arched an eyebrow questioningly. "Sir Leon, how many men can we spare?"

Leon narrowed his eyes in thought. It took him only a moment, before he replied briskly, "At the most, I could provide a section each of foot soldiers and archers, Sire. Fifteen men in total."

Arthur nodded and decided, "Very well. See to it that it's done. And Lord Cador, you will provide Sir Leon with all the information he needs for this operation."

The lord in question bowed and quickly pledged gratefully, "I will do so, Sire. Thank you for your help. It is much appreciated."

"Sir Degore spoke true," Arthur replied, warningly tinge to his voice. "Do not expect the crown to jump to your help every time you call, Lord Cador. Your fiefdom is still yours to protect."

Lord Cador bowed, mumbling promises to do just that, while still happy with the development. Sir Degore at least seemed to be mollified by Arthur's words as well. A small smile hung from Merlin's lips as he observed the proceedings. As much as Arthur could be a colossal prat, he had grown into the role of king nicely and the warlock couldn't help but feel proud of his friend.

.+.