Gwen, the miracle-worker, showed up a couple of hours later with a lunch fit for a nobleman, not a prisoner.
"How on Earth did you get this down here?" Merlin asked as he appreciatively eyed a thick slice of ham.
"I have my ways," she smirked, which probably meant she had brought the guards a similar spread to buy their compliance.
Merlin picked up a piece of fluffy bread – the good stuff, made of the finest flour. "Where did you even find the time?" he said around his mouthful.
"It's not like sewing keeps me incredibly busy," Gwen quipped. "Besides, I'll always make time for you, Merlin. I thought you could use a little cheering up."
Merlin grimaced. "You could say that…"
Gwen sat down next to him on the bench. "Are you all right? Is it true he nearly cut your head in half with his sword?"
"Came pretty close, yes," Merlin muttered and rolled his shoulder. "Luckily, nothing a bit of willow bark and rest can't make better." Gaius had quickly made his way to the dungeons after Merlin's arrest and had brought him something for the pain. (Naturally, he had also presented Merlin with a variety of disapproving eyebrows for going on a full-blown rant right into the face of the King.)
"He should know better than to train with you, especially without giving you a helmet or body armour," Gwen continued with a frown and Merlin was gratified to see her displeasure at Arthur. He deflated a little, though, when she added more sternly, "Elyan said you called him an ass?"
"Inconsiderate, self-centred ass, to be exact," Merlin replied as he picked over the cheese. "Called him mad, too."
"Just mad?"
"Might have been bloody mad…"
"And all of that in public?"
"Mhm."
"Oh, Merlin…"
Merlin promptly lost his appetite at her chiding tone. He sighed and put down the cheese. "Look, I know it's bad. He's the King now and I can't walk around insulting him in front of the likes of Sirs Galahad and Lamorak." Who were just two of the handful of knights that had always been Uther's men through and through, and who would undoubtedly have spread the word around court by now about young King Arthur being unable to keep his wayward servant in check.
Gwen put a hand on his knee and squeezed it. "I'm sure Arthur knows you didn't mean it."
"Oh, I meant every word of what I said," Merlin retorted. "He's been insufferable for weeks, and he very nearly struck me dead, Gwen!"
She grimaced, conceding the point even when she ventured, "Still…"
"Yes, still," Merlin agreed and pushed the tray to the edge of the bench. "I was just so angry and stressed! Everyone keeps pushing and prodding at me, expecting me to know things, expecting me to act a certain way, expecting me to solve their problems. It's exhausting! And Arthur doesn't even see how much I'm doing for him. He graciously granted me fifteen minutes of his precious time so I can get the steward off my back and that's it. Not a word of appreciation! Nothing new there, I suppose. But lately, he's been such an incredible pain in the ar—"
"Insulting the King, Merlin? Again? Really? What has it been, all of two hours?"
Merlin cringed. Arthur was standing outside the cell, washed and out of armour, arms crossed and glowering through the bars. Merlin immediately ducked his head. Just his luck.
Next to him, Gwen got up and curtsied. Clearly, she had got the message about Arthur's recent coronation. To Merlin's surprise, though, she spoke up in his defence next, "Don't be so hard on him. He's in pain."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Oh, is he now?"
"Yes," Gwen replied and her stance turned just a bit defiant, "from where you hit him with a sword!"
Arthur, Merlin was satisfied to see, shuffled a little on the spot just then. "He had a shield…"
"You should know better," Gwen replied firmly. "Merlin isn't a knight. He isn't even a squire. He's your manservant. You shouldn't be using him as a training dummy in the first place!" She paused. "Your Majesty." She managed to make the honorific sound like part of the scolding.
Arthur promptly looked at his feet and grumbled something about Gwen taking sides.
Gwen huffed a little, then left the cell to approach Arthur. She hesitated before settling a hand on his shoulder. "Go a little easy on him? He's really been working hard for you."
Arthur glanced to the side, looking just a little petulant, but seemed to mellow considerably when Gwen quickly scanned their surroundings, then placed a kiss on his cheek and added, "I'd appreciate it."
She winked at Merlin through the bars and was gone. Gods, but Gwen was a treasure!
Arthur let out a sigh, then entered the cell. Merlin looked at him warily, hunching his shoulders a bit, though he had to bite down on a little grin when Arthur's eyes fell on the small feast Gwen had brought down for him. The King opened his mouth as if to comment on the ham and cheese, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he crossed his arms again and stared Merlin down. Clearly, he was waiting for something.
"Court etiquette demands the person of higher rank address the lower-ranking party first," Merlin finally pointed out.
"Ah, yes. Because you're such a stickler to protocol, sitting in the presence of the King and hurling insults every chance you can get," Arthur replied drily. "Besides, I already addressed you. You didn't reply."
Merlin shrugged, then hissed when that irked his shoulder.
Arthur saw and at least had the decency to ask, "Is it really that bad?"
Merlin considered playing it up to make Arthur feel guilty and thus more likely to be lenient, but decided he was a better person than that. "It'll bruise. Nothing I can't handle."
"No need to be such a girl about it then," Arthur huffed.
"No need to be such a prat about it, either," Merlin retorted, then bit his lip when Arthur's glare returned full-force.
"Do you actually want to get whipped?" Arthur snapped.
Merlin cringed. Arthur wouldn't do that to him, would he? Merlin swallowed as he took in Arthur's dark expression. "No?" he ventured.
Arthur's glare intensified. "Please no, Your Majesty," he said pointedly and Merlin forced himself not to make a quip just then. This was serious.
"Of course. I apologise, my lord," he said instead and bowed his head.
"For more than that, I should hope," Arthur replied curtly.
Merlin let out a long breath, then straightened up on the bench and fixed Arthur with a look. "Listen, Arthur, I know I made a mistake. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I shouldn't have insulted you where everyone could hear. Believe me when I say, I don't want you to lose face in front of your men by making it look like you can't keep your servant in check. You are my King and I do respect you." Arthur acknowledged all of that with nothing but an infuriatingly vague humming noise, which promptly had Merlin add, "Even if you did very nearly kill me today."
Arthur's glower dampened considerably at that last bit. He uncrossed his arms, too, then cleared his throat.
"Merlin," he said, and Merlin was jolted by the sudden shift in his tone. Arthur's voice sounded much softer than before. "About that… I should have been more careful, but I was so riled-up..." He shook his head at himself. "It was too close a call. For a second there I even thought…" He trailed off again and cleared his throat again. "What I'm saying is, Guinevere is right. I can't treat you like a trained knight. I made a mistake that might have cost your life and I'm sorry."
Merlin immediately perked up at that. An actual, heart-felt apology! This was more than he would have expected.
"However," Arthur continued more darkly and Merlin hurriedly wiped the pleased little smile from his face, "you did disrespect me. Yelling at me out there, on the training field? Cursing at me in front of the knights? I know it hasn't escaped your notice that you are a servant and I am the King! What were you thinking? Do you have any idea what that looks like to the nobles of the court?"
Merlin bit his lip. Yes, he had messed up royally there. He got up from the bench. He really should be trying to adhere to protocol, especially after Arthur had deigned to apologise for a change.
With a proper, low, respectful bow, he said formally, "I sincerely apologise, Your Majesty. I was entirely out of line. Please forgive me." He meant it, too. In spite of all the things going on between them, the last thing he wanted was to embarrass Arthur or undermine his authority.
When his head came back up, Arthur's face was calm and statesmanlike, and he was studying Merlin so intently, Merlin ended up averting his eyes. It wasn't usual that Arthur could unnerve him, but he looked so confident and, well, kingly just then that deference felt natural. It didn't help that Arthur kept him in suspense for what felt like a full minute before finally saying, "I accept your apology."
Merlin chanced a glance. "And my punishment, sire?"
"Honestly? I don't know." With that, Arthur lost his regal poise. He rubbed a hand over his face, then pinched the bridge of his nose for good measure, before finally stepping forward and sinking down on the bench himself. He patted the spot next to him in invitation and Merlin plopped down.
"The whip is out?" Merlin asked hopefully, belatedly realising he might only be half-joking.
Fortunately, Arthur grimaced. "Please. You know I could never."
"Good to hear."
Arthur threw him a sideway look. "You're lucky that people are used to your insolence. I all but encouraged it for years. Nobody is honestly expecting me to make an example of you. Besides, the general opinion seems to be that, while you were way out of line, the King might have also acted in a way that was… unbecoming. Extenuating circumstances, if you will."
Merlin dared to chuckle a little. "I take it it's not a good look for the monarch to carve up his defenceless servant like a roasted pheasant."
Arthur snorted. "No."
"I do seem to remember a certain prince bludgeoning a peasant with a mace, though, and nobody bat an eyelid…" Merlin had hoped to further lighten the mood by evoking the memory, but Arthur's amusement abruptly vanished.
"Yes. A young prince can do a lot of things and not lose public favour. The King, however… one wouldn't want to give the impression he was unhinged. Or going mad, like his father."
Merlin felt his cheeks flush at Arthur's last words. "Arthur, you know I didn't– When I said that I wasn't implying–"
Arthur held up a hand. "I know." He ran the hand through his hair. "It's not due to what you said. I've been on edge lately. The knights know it, the lords know it." He paused, then admitted in a low voice, "I'm having trouble asserting myself. Your outburst will primarily be seen as a failure on my side. A symptom, if you will, of my own weakness. I haven't exactly been shouldering my new responsibilities with all the dignity befitting a King, and the court has taken notice. My uncle has been commenting on it every chance he can get."
Merlin bristled at that. He made a point of leaning forward and seeking out Arthur's eyes. "You're a great king, Arthur," he told him firmly, trying to throw as much conviction in those words as he could. "I'm proud to be serving you."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Proud to be serving an inconsiderate, self-centred ass?"
"Yes." At Arthur's incredulous look, Merlin snorted a little. "Look, we both know you've been the worst kind of prat recently, but I realise it's the stress. Kingship is taking its toll. You're working too hard."
Arthur looked at him for a long moment. "As are you." Merlin couldn't help but smile at the unexpected acknowledgement, which seemed to encourage Arthur to add, "I heard the other things you said, too, you know. Between the blatant disrespect and unacceptable insolence, you did have a point. It's not only my job that has changed and you've been trying your best to be a good manservant to me and keep on top of your many duties. I see that now." He paused, then added quietly, "Being King… I couldn't do this without you by my side, I hope you realise that?"
"I am not going to quit," Merlin told him firmly, hearing what Arthur hadn't said, then admitted, "Though sometimes, I feel like it's all too much. Like it's crushing me." And Arthur didn't even know the half of it - their shared destiny, Merlin's magic, the guilt over Uther's death, hells, Lancelot's death… Merlin ran a quick hand over his face as a sudden wave of emotion tried to get the better of him.
"Tell me about it," Arthur replied and lightly bumped his shoulder into Merlin's side. Gods, but Merlin so dearly wished in that moment that he could tell Arthur about it – about all of it. Still, that little show of commiseration helped immensely.
On a whim, Merlin dared to lean against Arthur and the King let him, perhaps needing some support of his own just then. For a minute or so, they sat in comfortable silence as a deeper sort of understanding settled into place between them, smoothing over the rough edges of the past weeks.
Finally, Arthur got up. "Here is my verdict: You're to stay in the dungeons overnight as punishment. I expect to see a formal apology in front of the nobility when I hold court tomorrow."
Merlin gave him a weak smile. "Will I be expected to walk on my knees before Your Majesty?"
Arthur let out an amused huff. "Let's hold back on the genuflecting for now. Some regular bowing and scraping should suffice. You think you can manage that without further embarrassment to either of us?"
Merlin nodded, growing serious as he promised, "Yes, sire. Of course." While he wasn't exactly looking forward to it, it wasn't as much of a hardship as Arthur might think, publicly acknowledging that he respected Arthur's authority. Besides, they both knew he was getting off too lightly.
"After that, you will return to your duties and we will speak no more of this matter. Understood?"
"Yes, my lord."
Arthur eyed him for a moment longer, his face softening in a way it rarely did for Merlin. "Do you need anything? For your shoulder or…?"
Merlin smiled up at him, warmed by Arthur's concern. "Thank you, but between Gaius and Gwen, I'm all set."
Arthur's eyes moved to the laden tray still sitting at the edge of the bench. He smirked, then added sardonically, "In that case, try not to make yourself look too comfortable while you're down here. You are supposed to emerge from the cell a humbled and changed man."
Merlin grinned. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will make sure to appear properly contrite come morning."
When Merlin was freed the next day and brought to the throne room, his shoulder was stiff and tender, but nothing he couldn't handle. He did his share of bowing and humbly begging forgiveness before the throne, the King graciously granted him clemency after a stern lecture, and while a couple of courtiers muttered unhappily under their breath, nobody appeared to be genuinely surprised that Merlin remained in the King's favour.
As it turned out, though, Clive would not let Merlin get off quite so lightly. The former manservant seemed to have spies all over the castle, one of which – a servant boy – approached Merlin before noon with the ominous message that Merlin was expected in the lower town for a talk. Merlin was of half a mind to ignore the summons, but ended up at the cartwright's house that night after all, once he was finished with his duties for Arthur.
Sure enough, Clive was already waiting for him, and he had prepared a proper dressing down, too. By the time he was done telling Merlin just how badly he had messed up, he was all but cowering in the kitchen chair with ringing ears and somehow felt worse than when the King himself had chastised him for his behaviour.
"Well," Clive finally said when he had calmed down, "let's discuss how to prevent something like this from ever happening again."
"It would probably help if I had less to do," Merlin sighed. "I've already had two jobs before all this, between Arthur and Gaius. Three, if you count the fact I have been doing a squire's work on top – which, coincidentally, was part of what triggered this whole mess!"
Clive leaned back in his chair, stroking a thoughtful finger over his chin. "I see." He hummed to himself as he considered the point, then said, "I fear you'll have to start delegating."
"Delegating?" Merlin asked. "I can do that?"
Clive tilted his head. "It would of course be preferable if you didn't, but given your unusual position working for two masters and the King's particular expectations… There must be some tasks you could entrust another person with."
Merlin figured Clive had a point. He was still mulling over the idea of delegating when he passed Gwen's house on his way back, and suddenly stopped dead in his tracks when an idea struck him. He turned on the spot to approach the door.
Gwen, fortunately, was still awake and happy to see Merlin, though she immediately started to look suspicious when Merlin settled down at the table and said, "My dearest, loveliest Guinevere."
"What do you want?"
Merlin tried for his widest, most charming smile, "Didn't you say you were bored, working for the royal seamstress?"
"I wouldn't call it bored, exactly…" Gwen replied carefully.
"Unchallenging, then?" Merlin prodded.
"I reckon one could say that." She narrowed her eyes. "What is this about, Merlin?"
Merlin leaned forward. "How would you feel about being the royal manservant's official right hand?"
Gwen stared at him. "There is no such thing."
Merlin shrugged. "We'll make it a thing, then. Clive told me I need to delegate – and that I should use my proximity to the King to my advantage. I'm sure if I ask Arthur about it, he would appoint you in a heartbeat."
Gwen raised an eyebrow. "That would be blatant favouritism."
"So what?" Merlin retorted. "He loves you. I don't think he could blatantly favour anyone more than that. He intends to make you his Queen."
Gwen scowled. "First of all, he never said anything of the sort to me." At Merlin's sceptical look she insisted, "He didn't. Besides, even if he did, that would be exactly why he shouldn't be going about making up court positions for me. It's not a good look, Merlin!"
"So you don't want to do it? Not the least bit interested in the running of the royal household?" Gwen averted her eyes in a way that let Merlin know he should push, "Come on, Gwen! You were a maidservant for years, working right at the heart of the court, organising a lady's schedule and so forth. You know the castle inside out. The other servants adore and respect you and would gladly follow your lead. I myself keep running to you whenever I'm out of my depth to get your advice. It's only fair that you'd finally be paid for all that, in respect as much as in coin. Besides, you can't tell me stitching curtains is in any way fulfilling. Your potential is absolutely wasted in the sewing room!"
Gwen picked at her sleeve. "Well…"
Merlin grinned. "I knew it! Think about how brilliant this would be, the two us working together, like old times!"
But Gwen was already holding up a hand. "If," she said firmly, "you want me to seriously consider this, there can be no whispering into Arthur's ear while serving him dinner. You need to go the official route."
"The King is the official route!"
Gwen shook her head. "No, he's not. He might have the final say in the matter, but staff appointments are handled by the steward, first and foremost."
At that, Merlin immediately baulked. "Well, that's that then," he said. "There isn't a chance in all hells that Lord Wesley of all people will approve a request like that, coming from me."
Perhaps it had been a stupid idea anyway. He didn't want Gwen to feel like he was inventing a job to be able to foist off his work onto her, either.
And yet, the thought of killing two birds with one stone, freeing himself up by delegating tasks to Gwen and thus giving her a fulfilling job in the process, wasn't so easily banished from his mind. Sure enough, Merlin ended up in the library the next evening, where he scoured the shelves and searched Camelot's records for information. Luckily, Geoffrey of Monmouth had long given up on trying to shoo Merlin away and simply told him to lock up before he retired to his chambers.
By midnight, Merlin had found something promising. Suddenly feeling much more confident about his idea, he dared to walk right up to Lord Wesley's office the next day.
The steward, however, only took one furtive glance at the information Merlin had written up nicely on a thick piece of parchment he had nicked from Arthur's desk and said, "Completely out of the question!"
"But there's precedent, my lord," Merlin argued. "It clearly states in the records that the post of seneschal was a respected position in the royal household for a century!"
"After which it had fallen out of use, with the responsibilities falling to the steward and the King's manservant respectively," Lord Wesley retorted.
"The post could be revived!"
The steward glared at him. "That would add a paid position to the roster. Where should this money come from, out of your wages? Out of my stipend?" He scoffed, "Are you even aware of what you're proposing here, boy?"
"I am proposing to improve upon the running of the royal household, my lord," Merlin said firmly.
"The only improvement that needs to be made at this time is that you quit being such a lazy, disrespectful little whelp and start taking your responsibilities to Camelot and the King seriously!" Lord Wesley barked.
If Merlin hadn't recently spent a night in the dungeons for disrespecting his betters, he might have snapped a little just then. Instead, he ground out, "You won't even consider my proposal, my lord?"
"I considered it. I rejected it. Now get out of my sight, or I will report you to the King for your insolence." He smirked. "I am sure His Majesty will be less lenient with his punishment this time around."
Merlin gritted his teeth, but gave the barest hint of a bow before he left the steward's office in a huff. Oh, how much he wanted to strangle this odious man!
He should have gone to Arthur with this. The King knew Merlin was overworked – Merlin had yelled at him about it at the top of his lungs – plus he would do anything for Gwen, of this Merlin was convinced. But Gwen wanted Merlin to go through the official channels, didn't want Merlin whispering in Arthur's ear – for appearance's sake.
Two days later, Merlin was busy sorting through some paperwork Arthur needed to read before the next day's audiences, when a thought occurred to him. No whispering, no. Official channels only. There was a plan…
That night, Merlin returned to the library to do some more research. He had to be perfectly prepared for this to work, he knew that much.
Merlin was brimming with restless energy all the way through the next household convention. Just as the steward was about to wrap up the meeting, Merlin spoke up.
"Lord Wesley, if I may raise another topic before the convention ends?"
The steward glared at him. "Nobody here needs you to waste their precious time, boy."
"My lord, after reading up on the rules concerning the household convention, it is my understanding that any member here has the right to put an item on the agenda if he or she so wishes. Just last week, Captain Kendall here raised an issue about Lord Parson's upcoming stay, and you allowed him to speak." He nodded at the head of the King's personal guard.
Lord Wesley narrowed his eyes. "I suppose," he conceded. "Well, make it quick, then."
"I'd like to officially propose the idea of reviving the post of seneschal at Camelot. It is my belief–"
"Not this again," Lord Wesley interrupted him. "I already told you, I will not grant your request."
"I have a right to present my idea to the convention," Merlin insisted. Some of the other members nodded or murmured in agreement.
"I don't care," the steward returned. "I have the final say in the matter, and I already told you, your idea is ludicrous and a testament to your lazy ways!"
Merlin had not expected a different outcome. In fact, he had bet on Lord Wesley's stubbornness. But he could not let the steward know that, so he put up a fight.
"You refuse to let me bring this matter to the attention of the convention, my lord?" he asked.
"There is nothing to discuss," Lord Wesley replied haughtily. "Give it a rest, boy." He pointedly looked at his papers. "I declare this meeting closed."
But this wasn't a setback where Merlin was concerned. If anything, it was a victory, as it opened a new, entirely official approach to the matter at hand…
Just one day later, Merlin was standing at the edge of the throne room just below the dais, on top of which sat Arthur. He was all but lounging on his throne, listening to petitioners. After hearing and arbitrating more than a dozen petty arguments between various lords, craftsmen and farmers, the King was doing his best not to look like he was about to fall asleep.
He jerked up, though, when the herald finally announced, "The King will now hear Master Merlin, the King's manservant."
Merlin left his designated spot at the side lines to approach the throne, catching Gwen's eyes in the process. She frowned back from her place in the crowd, having no idea why Merlin had asked her to attend today's hearings. Merlin had only told her he would need her help.
He gave a perfectly protocol-abiding bow before the King, then looked up expectantly, suppressing a smile when he saw Arthur just keeping himself from gaping a little.
"Merlin," he managed at last, completely bypassing protocol himself when he added, "What on Earth are you requesting an official audience for?" Some of the courtiers murmured or chuckled at that, Merlin's recent disgrace yet unforgotten, but Merlin did not let that faze him.
He schooled his features and inclined his head. "For official business, of course, Your Majesty."
Arthur raised his eyebrows, but he straightened on the throne, before once more adapting the airs of King Arthur, ruler of Camelot, by giving Merlin a very regal sort of wave. "Very well. State your business, then, Master Merlin. Your King is listening."
Merlin, having never heard Arthur use his recently earned title even once, immediately felt bolstered by Arthur's official tone. "Thank you, sire. I'm here to seek arbitration from Your Majesty."
Arthur looked interested enough. "Regarding?"
"I have recently approached our esteemed steward, Lord Wesley, in the matter of reviving a dormant position in the royal household. I raised the issue in a private meeting, but he rejected the idea outright. When I attempted to discuss the matter at the weekly household convention this Wednesday, he would not allow it, though it is my right as member to put an item on the agenda."
Arthur considered him for a moment. It was clear he was taking the matter seriously. He nodded, then glanced into the crowd. "Lord Wesley. Approach."
The steward stepped out of a group of courtiers. He glared at Merlin for good measure before bowing to the King.
"Is it true you denied Master Merlin the right to speak at the convention?"
"Your Majesty, I am appalled the boy has decided to waste the King's precious time with this matter," the steward replied with another glare for Merlin. "His proposal was ludicrous. The members of the convention are all busy people who cannot afford being held up by the foolish whims of a servant boy."
Arthur, Merlin was gratified to see, frowned at that. "The servant boy you speak of is, in fact, the manservant to the King and has as such, I believe, earned the title of Master, has he not, my lord steward?"
Lord Wesley's face soured, but he inclined his head respectfully. "Of course, sire. Be that as it may, Master Merlin's idea was without merit and did not need to be discussed at the convention."
Again, Arthur did not look particularly happy with the steward. Merlin had bet on this and felt his heart picking up speed when he realised his plan was starting to unfold as he had hoped. Arthur was all about fairness and handling matters in a way that he perceived as just. Merlin had anticipated the King would take issue with Lord Wesley's refusal to let Merlin speak.
"I can hardly believe Master Merlin would bring this matter here now if it wasn't worth considering." He looked at Merlin. "What's your proposal?"
"It is my belief the royal household would benefit from the revival of the post of seneschal, my lord."
Arthur tilted his head. "I've never heard of it. I take it you have looked into this matter before taking it up with the steward?"
"Of course, sire," Merlin replied. "Half a century ago, the seneschal was a permanent and esteemed member of the household in Camelot. The post was filled by an experienced and trusted servant capable of assisting the steward in the smooth running of castle business by taking charge of minor disciplinary matters, different organisational tasks and so forth." Merlin retrieved his research from his jacket. "May I approach to provide Your Majesty with the details?"
Arthur beckoned him close and Merlin handed him three pages of parchment with a half-bow. Arthur gave him an appraising look and the barest hint of a curious smile before looking at Merlin's research. To the King's credit, he actually took his time to give the notes more than just a cursory glance.
"Your handwriting is as atrocious as ever," Arthur teased him when he was done, much to the amusement of the court, then added more seriously, "The content, however, is well-researched. Why would you have this post revived, then?"
This was the most important part of the audience. Merlin had prepared for this – arguing his case in front of the King. "As Your Majesty knows, I myself am not only working as the King's personal manservant, but also act as the royal physician's assistant and have been standing in as Your Majesty's squire on many occasions. While I'm of course honoured to have been bestowed with such vast responsibilities—" Arthur raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, clearly unsure if Merlin was being sarcastic. "—it would only make sense to reallocate at least some of the tasks to a servant appointed as seneschal."
"Your Majesty, if I may," Lord Wesley spoke up. "The boy is clearly scheming to try and foist off his work on somebody else. Surely you would not condone such lazy ways?"
Arthur, again, looked rather displeased with the steward. "Is there any particular reason why you insist on speaking of my manservant in such a disrespectful way, my lord steward?"
Lord Wesley's ears went a little pink. "I apologise, Your Majesty."
"Besides," Arthur continued, "you yourself have repeatedly brought your concerns to me, saying that Master Merlin here seems to have trouble keeping up with his numerous tasks. Would reviving this dormant position not resolve the very issues you keep raising in our meetings?"
"Actually, as Your Majesty might remember, what I said was–" He stopped himself when he realised just what Arthur thought of being questioned in front of the court. He quickly switched tactics. "If the boy—" Merlin bit down on a grin when Arthur glared at the steward. "If Master Merlin does indeed find himself with an unsurmountable amount of tasks, why not give up on his position as physician's assistant?"
Merlin was prepared to defend his post with Gaius but as it turned out, Arthur had him covered. "No, I wouldn't want to deprive Gaius of his help. They've been an efficient and reliable team for seven years."
The steward hesitated, then dared to suggest, "Perhaps if Your Majesty took on a squire—" He stopped when Arthur held up a dismissive hand and the steward promptly closed his mouth, looking chagrined at being cut off.
Merlin was actually surprised just how badly the man was fumbling through this audience. Clearly, Merlin had taken him completely by surprise. On top, he didn't know Arthur like Merlin did. He was expecting the King to react like Uther, perhaps, and had clearly underestimated Arthur's esteem for Merlin as well.
To be honest, Merlin hadn't expected quite as much serious consideration from Arthur himself and had prepared for a much tougher battle, but then, something had settled between them ever since the incident on the training fields and their subsequent heart-to-heart.
"Master Merlin," Arthur addressed him just then, as if to prove Merlin's point, "I don't consider your request unreasonable. In the face of your vast duties, it does seem logical to appoint somebody to take on those you can easily part with." He paused. "I am wondering, did you have anybody in mind for this post of seneschal?"
Merlin could have hugged him there and then, though he knew he still needed to be cautious. "I didn't think it was my place to suggest anybody, sire," Merlin said, though he hoped his pointed look was conveying a different thought all together.
Sure enough, Arthur smiled. "It can't hurt to hear your opinion. If we are to revive the position, it would be somebody you would have to work closely with."
Merlin nodded. "There is indeed somebody that I think has the necessary skillset, somebody who has ample experience serving the royal family and is familiar with the running of the household." At Arthur's impatient tilt of the head, Merlin turned towards Gwen and only just suppressed a proud grin. "I speak of Guinevere, sister to Sir Elyan, formerly a lady's maidservant and caretaker of the late King."
Arthur placed a strategic hand in front of his mouth just then, but Merlin knew him well enough to know he was hiding a pleasantly surprised expression.
Meanwhile, Gwen was throwing Merlin a look that Merlin wasn't sure whether it was meant to convey I am going to kill you or I am going to kiss you, but she dutifully stepped forward to curtsy before the King when Arthur called her name.
"Guinevere," he said. "Would you be willing to take on the responsibilities of seneschal and thus take over part of Master Merlin's duties were I to appoint you to the post?"
Gwen folded her hands before her. It could have given her a nervous or meek appearance, perhaps, but Merlin thought it made her look confident and capable instead.
"If Your Majesty believes me to be a suitable candidate, I'd of course be honoured to accept the position, sire," she said.
Arthur didn't bother hiding his satisfied smile then. "Very well. Lord Wesley?"
The steward looked about ready to throttle Merlin and Gwen both, but kept himself in check enough to give a polite, "Yes, sire?" in response.
"In your opinion, is there any reason why I shouldn't grant Master Merlin's request and appoint Guinevere as seneschal?"
To the steward's credit, he wasn't a man so easily defeated. "There is the question of the funding of such a position."
"I believe the royal coffers will allow for one additional expense," Arthur assured him, all but making the matter official. "I trust you will make suitable arrangements and present everything to me for a final sign-off, my lord steward?"
It was then that Lord Wesley knew he had well and truly lost this battle. With a heavy note of resignation, he dipped his head, "As you wish, Your Majesty."
Merlin and Gwen thanked the King, who promptly stood, announcing he was finished hearing petitioners for the day.
Gwen immediately took Merlin aside. "You're impossible!" she chided him, all the while smiling widely.
Merlin grinned back at her, "Told you, all we needed to do was ask Arthur. No whispering involved, either."
She swatted at him, then said, "You were great, do you know that? So well-articulated and confident, arguing your case before the King."
Merlin scratched at his neck as he felt his ears go a little hot. "Well, it probably helps when the King in question is your friend."
Gwen clapped her hands together. "I've got to say, I didn't want to get my hopes up when you first proposed this, but I'm so excited about this job." She gave Merlin a meaningful look. "You were right. I am bored to death in that sewing room. It's mind-numbing."
They left the throne room, making plans, only for Merlin to realise he actually had to be attending the King and hurried off. Luckily, Arthur was not impatiently tapping his foot when Merlin showed up in his chambers to help him with a wardrobe change, but was sitting at his desk, going over yet more paperwork.
"So sorry to keep you waiting, sire," Merlin said anyway as he approached him.
But Arthur was smiling when he looked up. "Done celebrating with Guinevere?"
Merlin grinned. "Please! Drinks are in order. We're having a proper celebration tonight."
"As you should." Arthur looked back down at his papers. Merlin considered the conversation done and had already half-turned to go and fetch Arthur's clothes when the King added, "You handled yourself quite well today. You're learning, navigating the court, using your new position to your advantage... I was impressed."
Merlin turned back around to stare at him. Arthur still wasn't looking at him, very intently studying the curved writing on whatever report he was holding, all the while never moving his eyes.
"Thank you, sire," Merlin said, not bothering to hide the delighted grin slowly spreading on his face. "I hope it was fine I didn't warn you about this or anything, but I didn't want— Well, Gwen, really, didn't want to give off the wrong impression…"
Arthur nodded. "I wouldn't have done it any differently. It was a matter to be handled in public and you argued your case well. Nobody will think this was in any way underhanded." He chuckled a bit and finally looked up. "Funnily enough, your, ah, little outburst probably helped. The entire court already knew you were up to your ears in work. If anything, they think I jumped at the solution to prevent another public shouting match with you, not to bestow any unearned favours on…" He trailed off.
"Gwen will be brilliant as seneschal," Merlin replied, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm. "And it'll be good practice for her, having a hand in running the royal household."
Arthur averted his eyes. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing," Merlin said. "It's just, when I was doing my research, I found an interesting fact about the household convention. Apparently, the steward is not usually the one heading the meetings."
"Oh?" said the King.
"It's the Queen."
Arthur still wasn't looking at him, his head now stubbornly turned aside to look out of the window. But he was doing a poor job of hiding his happy little smile just then and Merlin decided nothing more needed to be said on the matter.
"By the way," he added, "I want to thank you for defending me to Lord Wesley."
Arthur glanced at him, then waved him off. "He disrespected you for no reason. It was time he was told off."
"Still. It meant a lot to me."
Arthur smirked. "Just don't expect me to call you Master Merlin all the time now."
"Of course not, sire," Merlin replied drily. "You are the King of Camelot and may address your subjects as you please."
"Glad we're on the same page here, idiot," Arthur replied with a cheeky grin, then stood. "Now hurry up and get me into my clothes. We're running late… again."
The following Wednesday, shortly before the household convention, Lord Wesley took Merlin aside in the grand chamber. Merlin immediately braced himself, fearing the worst. But to his surprise, Lord Wesley only gave him an appraising once-over, then said in a grudging tone, "Well played, Master Merlin."
The steward never called Merlin boy again.
notes: About the worldbuilding: I realise a steward and a seneschal were probably the same household position but, you know, artistic license and all that! Also, the whole fifteen minutes going over Arthur's diary in the morning thing is 100% inspired by the episode The Secret Sharer later in the season, in which Merlin tells Arthur his schedule for the day (garland competition and guild of harness polishers anyone?). I thought about a title for Merlin for a while and I feel Master was the best medieval-y term for a peasant of some importance. I guess it has a bit of a tradesman vibe and of course there's the fact that Arthur is Merlin's literal master, but I liked it all the same. I also believe the King would address Merlin as such during official business, just as he calls other lords "my lord" or knights "Sir X". I am actually surprised Gaius didn't have a title in the show, but then he was made a freeman fairly late in his life, too, even though he seemed to be an esteemed court advisor… canon worldbuilding is so strange sometimes!
I had a blast writing this story and dearly hope it was an enjoyable read. If so, please consider leaving a comment below. :)