Merlin looks absurd. He is cumbersomely holding a circular shield that makes him look even smaller than normal and a helmet. He looks as if he would rather be in the stocks. I haven't trained with anyone but my knight since Merlin's first visit to Camelot. His visit had a strong influence, and not only on my views on magic. It started out slow, as if gradually the blinders were lifted from my eyes.

I started with me noticing how the servants were actually treated. I never thought about servants. To me they were just there when I needed something. I didn't see them as individual people. However, a few days after Merlin left I saw a servant with a busted lip and bruises. It was obvious what had happened. No one seemed to notice or care. Generally I wouldn't have thought twice about it, but I couldn't help but think that it could have been Merlin with that busted lip. It then went from there. Every time I had to make a decision I would hear a small bothersome voice, which sounded oddly like a certain idiot, giving me guidance or calling me a prat. I started to think for myself and not follow my father blindly. I'm aware of his faults, but he is my king and most importantly my father. I would not be doing this, if it was anyone but Merlin.

Apparently, even though consciously, I did not recognize Merlin at first my subconscious must have. I would not have responded to him the way I did otherwise. That is why I'm training with him. I can be completely myself around him. Even after all these years. I don't know why, but I feel as if no time has passed. That frights me, even though I don't want to admit it, even to myself.

"Merlin, Ready?" I enquire

"Would it make any difference if I said no?" He grumbles as he puts on his helmet and pulls out his sword.

"Not really." I admit

I raise my sword and get ready to attack. I wonder if Merlin has improved any since we were children. He can't be any worse surely.

"Body… shield… body… shield," I warn before targeting each area.

Merlin clumsily tries to block each attack and fails.

"Head."

"Head? Ow," Merlin whines as I make contact with his helmet. Well he's not worse, but he sure has not improved any.

"Come on Merlin. You're not even trying!" I tease.

"Uhhh."

"To the left… right… left… head!" Merlin falls to the ground, whacking his helmet off.

"I've got a tournament to win." Not that Merlin is any challenge.

"Can we stop now, please?" He beseeches.

"That's just a warm up, but very well. You're braver than you look. Most untrained people would have collapsed after the first blow." I'm not getting any real practice in anyway, plus he looks as if he might pass out if I hit him in the head again. That's not a factor in my decision, of course.

"Also I believe that there are some stalls that need mucking out," I remind him.

"Now?" He sighs.

"No next week. Yes now," I lace my voice with sarcasm.

"Fine." He heads toward the stables, but not before I hear him mumble, "Why is it always the stables?"

I smile at the comment.

Walking over to the practice field I picture Merlin mucking out the stables. I suddenly realize that I have a powerful sorcerer mucking out my stables. I can't hold back my laughter.

"What's so funny princess?" Gwaine is looking at me oddly.

"Nothing Gwaine, nothing at all."

MERLIN

This is going to be awful. I'm holding a bulky wooden shield that weights a tonne. I have to wear a helmet that will block most of my peripheral vision and try to use a sword. Not only that, but Arthur the best swordsman in Camelot. Not that I'll admit this. His head is large enough without me adding to it. So this can only end badly for me. It doesn't help that the only experience I have with a weapon, besides magic, is that short time with Arthur when we were younger.

Speaking of the prat, he is standing in front of me, looking as if he's trying not to laugh. I must look as ridiculous as I feel.

"Merlin. Ready?" Arthur asks.

"Would it make any difference if I said no?" Of course it wouldn't make any difference to him. I pull out my sword already knowing his reply.

"Not really." He concedes.

Arthur raises his sword and gets ready to attack. I hate my life sometimes.

"Body… shield… body… shield," he informs and then he attacks.

I try to block each attack but Arthur easily gets over my defences.

"Head."

"Head? Ow," I feel my ears ring from the impact.

"Come on Merlin. You're not even trying!" Arthur taunts.

I have yet to try to turn anyone into a frog, but it's tempting to try now. Well it would be but I would like to keep my head thank you very much.

"Uhhh."

"To the left… right… left… head!" I somehow find myself on the ground with my helmet beside me. I was right. This is as bad as I thought it would be.

"I've got a tournament to win." Arthur complains.

"Can we stop now, please?" I'm already exhausted and the ringing in my ears has not stopped.

"That's just a warm up, but very well. You're braver than you look. Most untrained people would have collapsed after the first blow." Arthur admits.

I'm surprised by his response. I expected him to say no, not that I'm complaining, but I'm also taken back by the compliment. Maybe he's not such a prat after all?

"Also I believe that there are some stalls that need mucking out."

Okay, still a prat than.

"Now?" I should have known not to get my hopes up. Well at least it's better than training, not but much but still.

"No next week. Yes now," he states mockingly.

"Fine," I start towards the stables. "Why is it always the stables?"