Title: A Matter of Patience

Author: Takebuo Ishimatsu

Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin

Summary: Someone else is waiting for the day he can reveal his magic. Unfortunately, Arthur enjoys Merlin's attempts at lying too much to tell him so. Goes from pre-friendship all the way to definite Merthur. 3rd in series but can stand alone. Arthur's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

***Way, way after Opinion & Perfection & just past the ending of season two. Still haven't seen all of it, so please forgive any mistakes.***

Chapter Three: Waiting for Something More

He felt ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. And it was all his stupid manservant's fault.

He glared down at the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. It was old and battered, nowhere near the standard he had for his own clothing. It also had several spots here and there which he hadn't yet decided if they were part of the poor-quality cloth or stains. The sudden mental image of his servant completely missing his mouth while drinking seemed all too likely and he chose the latter option as being more probable.

He frowned for the umpteenth time that day upon realizing that Merlin had not only given him a raggedy old scarf, but also a damaged raggedy old scarf. Worst of all, it smelled!

Well, it didn't technically "smell." It smelled like Merlin, whom didn't smell bad himself, but it was an odor entirely improper for the Crown Prince of Camelot. And anyone else for that matter! No one but Merlin should smell like Merlin, never mind that one servant girl's attempt to get into the completely oblivious brunette's pants.

He wrote off knowing Merlin's smell as an unavoidable side-effect of having the other help him dress everyday for the past year. And he flat out refused to contemplate that his quick transfer of the horny servant girl was anything more than him trying to protect the idiot. After all, if she was so desperate as to sleep with Merlin, who knew who else she'd been with?

Now, as for Sir Percival…

"Sire, ten more men have fallen into The Sleep," Sir Caradoc said glumly as he approached.

Arthur nodded as he was snapped away from his evil plotting of revenge upon the young knight. For his own good, of course. It just wasn't proper to be that close to another man's servant.

He watched with no little amount of upset as the newly enchanted men were carried over to the already full wagons. Every night since they'd started on their trek to King Alined's castle, several of his men would fall asleep only to not wake up in the morning. It was clearly the work of the other's newly found sorcerer, the whole reason he'd felt it safe enough to break the treaty and declare war on his neighbors.

When the news had first hit Camelot's court, Arthur had been hard pressed not to laugh. So, Alined's sorcerer could conjure some winds or whatever other stupid tricks they were so pleased with? Arthur's sorcerer could defeat a dragon. Unfortunately, his laughter didn't last as it'd soon become apparent that Merlin was not different than any normal man when it came to fighting an opponent he couldn't find.

And thus he came to the reason he was wearing the hideous crime against the eyes of mankind his servant so affectionately called his "good luck charm."

Despite knowing how it would look to others, he'd graciously accepted the sorcerer's cloth token with nothing more than a few chosen insults directed towards his sense style, his sanity, and the other's eyesight in general. Honestly, he still didn't know why Merlin had stomped off after calling him a prat; he should be deeply honored that anyone would be willing to even contemplate wearing the thing! Even if it was "good luck!"

And really, he wasn't so certain about the "good" part, considering how often Merlin managed to spill something on others or himself…was that part of a potato sticking out of one of the folds? He glared at the offending white object before gingerly plucking it out and tossing it to the side. He then paled as he suddenly wondered if that was some unknown part of the magic and seriously considered picking it up and putting it back in.

Catching Caradoc shifting his eyes from potato to scarf and back again, he decided against it. Even if he'd just ruined the "good luck" of the object and it cost him his life, he'd rather die honorably (or rather, fall asleep) alongside his men than go around with a vegetable as part of his ensemble.

As if his feeling of ill-will had called out to him, and, considering it was Merlin, he wouldn't be surprised if it had, the lanky man came walking out of the nearby woods. Goofy smile in place, he appeared to be speaking quite amiably with his knight escorts, Sir Kay and…Sir Percival. Arthur glared at the latter and even across the distance he could see the other pale and make some excuse to his companions before darting off to the left.

In turn, Merlin saw him and started jogging over.

"I told you to stay with the others," Arthur snapped once he was within hearing range. Merlin shrugged, a direct order from the Crown Prince nothing in his mind.

"I came to give you this," Merlin held up a vile full of sky-blue liquid.

Arthur rolled his eyes, before holding out his hand for the sparkling object.

"You couldn't have sent someone else to deliver it?"

Upon realizing Merlin's entire contribution to solving the magic problem was a ratty old scarf, Arthur had promptly sent his servant to the very back of the army, where there appeared to be less enchantment going on. It would seem the closer they got to Alined's castle, the more likely one was to become ill. And now, just because it was Arthur and Merlin, it was probably nine times more likely for one or both of them to get ill out of all the men, never mind Merlin's "good luck charm."

"Well, I'm the physician's assistant, so I should be here to monitor the effects to make sure it works," Merlin said with such enthusiasm that Arthur was almost tempted to believe he actually knew what he was doing.

As it was, it was a known fact that by "physician's assistant," Merlin meant his medical expertise involved carrying Gaius' potions to patients. He frowned as his father's demands for him to return home rushed to the forefront of his mind. Last time his father had tried to keep him out of danger, he'd ordered Gaius to slip him a sleeping draught, quite ironically.

He gave the potion to Caradoc for safe keeping, fearful that his sneaky manservant might actually try to slip it in his drink if he thought it'd protect his Prince. He tried to ignore the other's crestfallen look, "I'm not unwell, you can send this back to Gaius," he shared a look with Sir Caradoc, one of those who knew about his previous potion problems, before he continued, "Take Merlin to the back camp and make sure he stays there this time."

"Yes sir!"

Merlin dodged away from the knight, a desperate look on his face.

"No! You need to drink it!" Merlin exclaimed and the two stopped to give him odd looks. Arthur felt that he knew what was going on.

"What is it?" he asked with false exasperation.

Caradoc held the vial up to examine the liquid carefully, but all he could give his Prince was a shrug.

"What is it?" Merlin repeated dumbly, looking from back and forth between the two with wide eyes. Arthur looked Heaven-ward, not that the sky or ceiling or anything else that had been above his head over the past year had ever given him much help in regards to the worst manservant in history.

"Yes, Merlin, I told you that I am well. So, what is it?"

"It's…um…for your…complexion," Merlin finally finished. Sir Caradoc's eyebrow rose to a height that would have put Gaius to shame.

"My what!" Arthur snapped.

All of the nearby knights halted in their work before turning to look at their Prince expectantly. A few of them went back to what they were doing upon realizing it was just Merlin, again. Others pretended to do the same while they practically leaned in closer.

"Merthur Moments," as they'd been so affectionately dubbed by Morgana, were becoming legendary in Camelot. At the rate they were going, Arthur wouldn't be surprised if people were still writing about them centuries in the future. As it was, he still wasn't quite certain why Merlin's letters got to go first in the combination. Probably just Morgana trying to annoy him.

"You're looking a bit pale, you see, and I thought I'd give you this to put some color back into your cheeks," Merlin said with a smile that was more on the "I'm silently laughing at you" side than friendly concern.

Several of his knights gave him a considering look, no doubt fearing he was coming down with some unknown illness and would drop any second. (He'd come to find that Merlin had the unfortunate ability to convince anyone anything about their Prince when he had enough enthusiasm to back him up.) Of course, others had their backs to him, and Arthur knew it was to hide their smirks. The Prince felt a flush coming on. He was going to kill Merlin, find a sorcerer to magic him back to life, and then kill him again!

"My complexion is fine as well, Merlin. Now go back to the far camp!" Arthur swiftly pointed towards the woods that he'd just come from, fearing he'd smack his idiotic manservant if he didn't do something with his sword arm.

Merlin gave him his kicked puppy look before slowly turning and starting back. Arthur narrowed his eyes; that had been too easy. As usual, his "Merlin sense" wasn't wrong.

"I was just worried what others might think, with you looking all pale and…scared," Merlin he said softly. Before the words even had time to fully sink in, the other took off and was half-way across the clearing.

Caradoc's mouth was twitching and the only thing saving Merlin from being skinned alive was Arthur's assurance that no one else had heard the parting remark. Or, at least, no one there was dumb enough to comment if they had.

"Should I bring him back to you, sire?" Caradoc asked politely.

Arthur put a hand to his forehead, wondering not for the first time if he'd accidentally dropped a baby down some stairs or beat an elderly woman to death or something similar in a previous life in order to have been cursed with the existence of Merlin. It was as if it was his very destiny to live out his days with the most annoying sorcerer known to man!

He let his hand drop and shook his head, pleased to note that two of his knights were already riding off to catch up with the other man and make sure he was protected. Not that Merlin even needed any protection, the stupid dragon-slaying little liar!

"Give me the vial," Arthur said in a rather resigned voice, while holding out his hand expectantly. Caradoc carefully handed it over, his amused look replaced by one of contemplation.

"You think…?" he whispered.

Arthur nodded and they both took a moment to examine the liquid, as if by staring at it long enough they would be told its secrets. Finally, the Prince just shrugged and swallowed all of it in one gulp.

Caradoc continued to look at him uncertainly, only just a few weeks ago having learned of Merlin's unusual gifts. Not that he distrusted magic in general, as he'd told Arthur that his sister had secretly been sent to live in another kingdom due to her "talents" many years ago, but anyone with half a brain would worry about something Merlin made. He winced as the memory of rat stew came to him.

"Well, I don't feel any diff-" Arthur's eyes rolled back into his head and he had the wonderful sensation of warmth flash throughout him before the world went dark.

O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O

Arthur groaned as he opened his blurry eyes, feeling a bit woozy as the world continued to spin for a moment. He saw a blur of black move towards him and he absentmindedly reached out to touch it. He smiled at its softness.

A few undistinguishable words later (magic, he realized as his world came back into focus) and he was treated to the sight of him petting Merlin's hair. He jerked his hand back as if stung.

Merlin smiled at him, "Well then, now that you're all better, I'll just be going."

Even in his state, Arthur managed to snatched onto his servant's ankle as he got up to leave, causing the other to come crashing down with a yelp. He then tried to crawl out of the opening but Arthur kept his hand firmly where it was. If Merlin thought he was going to let him sneak away while he was down, he didn't know his Prince very well.

Sir Percival poked his head into the tent flap, "Is everything all right?" He brightened as he caught sight of his Prince awake and looking rather lively, if his death grip upon his wriggling manservant was anything to go by, "Sire! You're well!"

His exclamation caused a few more faces to appear, all looking rather pleased that Merlin hadn't managed to kill him. Arthur mentally groaned as he suddenly imagined how the bards' tales would have gone:

O, Prince Arthur, the bravest man to ever be!

Even sorcerers and dragons were no match for he!

But instead slain by the worst manservant in history!

He was buried with a pointed weenie!

O, Prince Arthur, the bravest man to ever be!

He added that last part as he realized, rather uncomfortably, that he had a "morning" (what time was it anyway?) erection. He glanced at all the men staring at him before slowly shifting his eyes downward, managing to make it look like he was glaring at the brunette still lying pitifully alongside him. Luckily, he seemed to be piled with blankets, no doubt from them fearing he would catch a fever or something from Merlin's "complexion" potion.

"Do you need anything, sire? Water, perhaps?" Sir Kay asked softly, as if afraid that his Prince might shatter if he spoke too loud.

Arthur scowled at Merlin, who was pointedly looking in the opposite direction. The Prince knew it'd probably take him a year to live down the event. He, Crown Prince of Camelot, felled by a man who'd once needed rescuing from angry fire ants after he'd managed to trip himself into their nest. Arthur smiled wickedly as he remembered the look Merlin had given him after he'd pulled himself out of the lake they'd thrown him in.

Well, it'd gotten the ants off, hadn't it?

"No, leave us be. If I require anything, I'm certain Merlin would love to be of assistance, wouldn't you Merlin?" He gave the other's leg a sharp tug and the mop of black atop his servant's head moved back and forth as he nodded quickly.

His knights shared a look, not quite certain they liked the idea of Merlin even being allowed to sneeze within the vicinity of their Prince, but they didn't argue. Arthur wasn't quite certain he liked the idea either, but at the moment he had more pressing matters that were bothering him and he just wanted the others gone. It was one thing when they all woke up together when out on a hunt, it was another entirely when he was the only one scantily clad in his nightwear, lying helpless before others' eyes.

"Arthur, I…" Merlin slowly sat up and turned, keeping his gaze downwards, "I didn't mean…"

"You didn't mean to try and kill me?" Arthur finished in a sarcastic drawl.

Merlin's gaze shot up and he quickly began shaking his head, "No! I swear on my mother's life and my life and the stars and pixie dust and that apple pie stuff that you really like, that I would never try to hurt you!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the "pixie dust" but refrained from pointing out that regular non-sorcerer peasants probably shouldn't know that such a thing existed. If anyone asked him, he'd chalk it up to all of his servant's time with Gaius. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the "apple pie stuff."

"I know. It was an accident. Just be more careful next time," Arthur responded with absolute seriousness, trying to wipe off the semi-horrified, totally-self-hateful look his friend had acquired.

Merlin's face broke into a smile so bright that if captured, it could have lighted the whole of Camelot for a week. Arthur responded with his own small quirk of the lips, trying not to forget his annoyance with the other. Before the Prince could stop him, the brunette all but threw himself onto the other for a big hug.

"Merlin!" Arthur shifted and his servant jumped away with a yelp, eyes wide.

"I think I felt something under the blankets!"

"Wait! No!" Arthur reached out to stop him but was too late and instead ended up using his hands to cover his face so as to pretend Merlin wasn't wearing that amused smirk he just knew he had on.

"Oh." Merlin gently covered the other back up and Arthur peered through his fingers to see the other squeezing his lips together in an attempt not to smile.

"Don't. Say. Anything."

Merlin nodded his head with his best faux serious face on, though his mirthful eyes told an entirely different story. "I would never, sire!"

They sat like that for a moment, the Prince glaring at him through his fingers while Merlin maintained a stony face in the opposite direction, just gazing at the other out of the corner of his eyes. Suddenly the brunette's lips began to twitch.

"Soooooo, no formal introductions for Little Prince, then?"

"Merlin!" Arthur dived for the other and easily ended up on top of the laughing sorcerer. He seriously considered giving him a good knock in the mouth as he continued to snicker.

"I'm sorry, sire! Please don't spear me with your mighty sword!" By then he seemed to be having trouble breathing he was laughing so hard and Arthur thought it would serve him right to suffocate to death.

"If you don't shut it, I'm going to stick my 'might sword' right up your ass!" He snapped back irritably. Suddenly the tent grew deathly quiet and Merlin gave him a questioning look. Arthur groaned and rolled off the other as he realized just what he'd said.

"When we get back I'm going to have you put in the stocks for trying to poison me and I'm going to give everyone potatoes. Big ones," he threatened, trying to diffuse the awkward situation.

"Well, that's not very nice," was Merlin's brilliant comeback. Arthur snorted.

Honestly, he didn't see how the idiot had managed to turn the whole situation into something so juvenile. He was a male as well, and it wasn't as if Merlin hadn't seen it before! He was there when the Prince woke up, helped him in and out of his clothing every day, and even helped him bathe!

"Get me a cool cloth," he commanded. Merlin gave him a concerned look in response.

"Are you coming down with a fever?" He reached out a hand for his forehead, which Arthur swiftly knocked away.

"No, you idiot!" Arthur gave him an uncomfortable look before continuing, "I'm feeling rather hot."

Merlin's eyes drifted down to the tent in his pants before coming back to give the other a determined look, "I'm not helping you with that."

Arthur rolled his eyes and gave him a shove out the tent flap, "I told you I just needed the cloth. I don't need you."

Once he retrieved the requested item, Merlin just stuck his hand back in the entrance, as if fearful of what he might see if he came in all the way. Arthur rolled his eyes again, only briefly contemplating if he shouldn't be more embarrassed by the thought of Merlin knowing just what he was doing. The other was his manservant, after all. What couldn't they share? Surely his father and his manservant…he quickly shut off that train of thought.

After a few moments of "relaxing" by himself, he called the other back in, holding the cloth out towards him in his best regal manner. Merlin gave him a horrified look and gingerly took the object from him with only the barest hint of his fingertips touching it. Arthur smirked, deciding then it would fun to purposely be a "prat" for a moment.

"Clean that for me," he ordered nonchalantly, pretending not to be observing Merlin's very disgruntled look.

"Clean it? I'm going to burn it," Merlin whispered to himself before marching the offending object away from the blond. Arthur just shrugged and snuggled back down into his blankets. He felt rather tired again.

O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O O_O

Arthur stretched out his arms as he awoke and all but jumped out of tent when his hand made contact with unknown skin. His hand went instantly to where his sword should have been, but he found only air. He glanced back towards his unknown opponent with hidden worry.

Taking in the "stranger" now that he was fully awake, he forced himself to calm down as his brain finally caught up with the rest of his reflexes and he realized it was just Merlin, as usual.

He sighed, wondering if there was any other person out there in all of Camelot who shared their bed with a servant without the purpose of sex. He doubted there was, but, then again, he also doubted there was any other servant out there who just took it upon himself to be made comfy in his lord's room. Well, tent, technically, but he'd caught Merlin sleeping in his bed before so he decided the annoyed sentiment applied to his royal chambers back at the castle as well. However, considering how his armor had been polishing itself at the time of discovery, he'd never quite gotten around to reprimanding his idiot servant for lazing about where he shouldn't.

"Merlin, we really need to have a talk about your lack of proper decorum," Arthur drawled as he gently pushed the other's shoulder. Merlin didn't stir a bit, and the Prince rolled his eyes. "Merlin, get your skinny arse up!" Still his servant didn't seem to take notice of his annoyed master and said master was starting to get a little worried.

"Merlin!" He shook the other vigorously but it had no effect. Arthur frantically looked around the tent before catching sight of the nasty old scarf his friend was so fond of. He grabbed hold of it and quickly wrapped it around the other, hoping for Merlin's "good luck" to do something which apparently he couldn't.

Once again, Merlin didn't wake and Arthur suddenly remembered the potato he'd flung out of it yesterday. Could it be? With the idea only half formed in his mind, he darted out in only his pants, ignoring the odd looks he received from the knights guarding over his "sleeping quarters."

"Sire? Are you well?" Caradoc asked carefully, reaching out a hand but not quite placing it on the other. Only Merlin had the audacity to touch royalty without permission.

"The potato I threw out yesterday! I need it!" He didn't even look towards the knight as he continued his search of the grounds.

"Yesterday? Sire, it's been three days since you collapsed. Are you feeling ill?" Caradoc asked uncertainly, beginning to wonder if Merlin's concoction had addled the Prince's brain.

Arthur looked at his knight for a moment before shaking his head, "We'll speak of that later, right now I need to find that potato. Merlin's…he's not waking," he finished in a whisper. Caradoc's eyes widened and he began searching as well.

Of course, their odd behavior soon drew the attention of the others around them and after that all the knights were divided. All those that knew were sent to look as well while those that didn't were pointed over towards the outskirts of their camp to look for "Arthur's pendant."

"Sire, I think I found it!" Kay exclaimed with joy, holding out a nasty old potato towards his lord. Arthur broke out into a wonderful smile, just managing to grasp hold of the object as he heard a sleepy voice call out behind him.

"Found what?" All at once the knights turned to give incredulous looks towards the formerly "unwakeable" manservant walking towards them out of the tent before their eyes went back to The Potato, marveling at its power. Merlin followed their gaze and gave the object a skeptical look.

"Is that a potato?" he asked slowly, glancing at each member of nobility as if they'd lost their minds. It was in that moment that Arthur wondered if he'd not made a mistake and the scarf had been doing its job after all.

Everyone turned towards their Prince, who was still holding the vegetable as if it was the Holy Grail itself, wondering what to do next. Sir Kay began fidgeting and looking guilty, while the others seemed to hold their breath, wondering if this was the moment the truth became known to Merlin. Arthur took and let out a deep breath, looking directly into his friend's eyes.

"Merlin, there's something I need to tell you," he said with utmost seriousness. Merlin nodded uncertainly, no doubt feeling the charged atmosphere.

"You really need to start paying attention to the details," Arthur finished dramatically as he grabbed hold of the other's hand and placed the nasty old potato in it. He heard an undignified "huh" come somewhere from Kay's direction but he imagined from the shifting sound afterwards that his knights had pushed the confused lad to the back of the group, lest he give anything away.

For his part, Merlin looked as if he wasn't quite certain if he should be disgruntled to have his hand violated in such a way or amused with the whole situation. In the end, he seemed to settle on the latter and he gave his Prince and impish look.

"You've already said that, sire," he replied, holding the white object towards the blond.

Arthur pushed the brunette's hand back towards his chest, "Well, this time I really mean it. That was in that disgusting, ratty, ugly, offending, there's really not even enough bad words in the English language to describe it, scarf you happen to be wearing at the moment." He finished with a nod towards the cloth, but if he thought Merlin would be horrified, he was sorely mistaken.

Instead, his manservant got a contemplative look on his face, "You know, I thought I'd dropped something while at dinner the other day, but I couldn't for the life of me find it. Guess that must have been it." He shrugged as if having his own vegetable garden starting in various parts of his attire was nothing new. Then again, considering it was Merlin, perhaps it wasn't.

"Were you looking for it just so you could give it back to me?" Merlin asked in a way that clearly told everyone present that the Prince had just jumped to whole new heights when it came to being a "prat" in his book.

"You wouldn't wake up, so I figured I'd find you breakfast instead this morning," Arthur responded with a snap, hiding his fear behind his usual "annoyed Prince" mask. When he'd thought Merlin had fallen into The Sleep…

"Well, yeah, that's a side effect of the potion I made. You know when everyone thought I'd killed you? You're actually supposed to fall asleep, ironically, and that will make you immune to The Sleep. It's supposed to knock you out for a few days, actually, but with all the commotion, I must have woken up early. I told Sir Percival what I was going to do, he should have told you," Merlin finished with a frown pointed towards the knight, one of those on the far side of the clearing still looking for a nonexistent pendant.

Arthur was annoyed that Percival had been the one to gain Merlin's confidences while he was out and vowed to train the other like he'd never trained anyone before. He would be sore for a week after the first hour!

He had to admit, as a side note, that Merlin was certainly getting better at lying. Of course, no one pointed out that the Prince hadn't even twitched when the entire camp had been up in arms at the thought of Merlin accidentally killing him. And he'd apparently slept for three days while Merlin had only been out however long. Clearly, magic in one's blood did more than just give you a one-way ticket to the pyre.

"I see. Very well then, we'll have to make a plan as to how to administer it in a way that we'll have enough people awake to defend the camp while the others are sleeping," Arthur turned towards his closest knights before turning back towards his drowsy looking servant. "Next time you need to tell someone of your secret plan and I am not available, tell one of them." He waived towards the knights "in the know." Merlin gave him a weird look but nodded nonetheless.

He was about to turn back towards his men when a terrible thought struck him. If Merlin was actually telling the truth about the potion, and the potato clearly meant nothing to him as well, then what about the scarf? Had Arthur been going around with that monstrosity around his neck for a week for no reason? He felt fury building within him, believing Merlin had made him look a fool on purpose.

"Merlin, tell me the truth! If your potion is going to be our help, then why did you ask me to wear your 'good luck charm' for? If you've been playing a joke on me, I swear I'll-"

"My mother made it for me when I left for Camelot," Merlin whispered, gently playing with one of the ends. Arthur felt his anger leave in a great big whoosh, as if the air had been knocked out of him. Everyone knew how much the other loved his mother.

Trying to save face, the Prince responded, "So it's not lucky, then."

Merlin looked affronted, "It is!"

"Merlin, the first day you arrived in Camelot you were thrown in the dungeons, put in the stocks and we were all attacked by a sorceress. If that's your version of good luck, I can see why you're the worst manservant in history."

Merlin scowled at Arthur's mocking, "Oh really? Well, if that sorceress hadn't attacked then I wouldn't have been made your manservant in the first place! And if we hadn't managed to make such impressions on each other that lead to me being thrown in the dungeons and put in the stocks, then we may not have the same relationship we do now and I would be just another servant!"

The air grew tense again and all of the nearby knights gave some sort of excuse before darting off in various directions, leaving the pair alone. As amused as they may be by the numerous "Merthur Moments," everyone seemed to realize what they were talking about was private.

Arthur felt something stir within him at Merlin's confession, but he waived it off as pride or loyalty or something along those lines.

"So, you're saying, it's lucky because we became friends. Even for you, Merlin, that's pretty girly," Arthur ridiculed, but with no real heat. Merlin's lips turned upwards.

"I thought I was too lowly to be the friend of Great Prince Arthur," he replied cheekily. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I never said I thought we became friends, that's your own mistaken view of the world."

"Of course, sire," Merlin nodded with false seriousness before his face broke into a far too self-pleased grin. Arthur just sighed and marched off in the opposite direction. He had too many things to worry about at the moment than his idiotic manservant's misguided attempts to befriend those significantly above his rank.

Still, as he walked off, he couldn't quite decide what he was waiting for this time. He supposed he was waiting for the day Merlin's magic was known and thus he wouldn't look like an idiot in his attempts to help out in an area he had no expertise. Honestly, how was he to ever know what did and didn't come as part of Merlin's magic? The potato had seemed like a good idea at the time.

However, he also wondered, in a quiet, distant part of his mind, if he wasn't waiting for the day Merlin had rank enough to officially be acknowledged as something more than a servant. After all, while not nobility per se, Arthur had to admit, even he couldn't find fault with befriending the Court Sorcerer.

He just had to wait a little bit longer.

Posted 7/29/10

AN: Wow, this chapter really got away from me. I have no idea where half this stuff came from, but I think I like this chapter better than all the other Merlin I've written! What do you guys think?

Also, I know, I know! There's quite a few modernisms in it, but technically the show has them too, so hopefully I'm not too atrocious for throwing them in here and there.

Finally, I can't believe no one noticed! (Including me!) My original author's note stated that the first chapter of this story is pre-Opinion & Perfection however, it has come to my attention that that can't be possible since the whole point of this story is Arthur knowing & he clearly doesn't know in those two. So, I'll be changing that little note. Please forget it ever existed.