'What in Heaven's name happened in here?' a loud voice demands. Merlin veers up, battles with blankets and sheets for a moment while blinking against the sunlight now streaming through the open window. He sees the silhouette of the King outlined against it, looking down at the ground. It takes a few seconds of sheer panic before realizing what exactly Uther is doing in his bedroom. No not his, Arthur's.

Which ever way you look at it though, being alone with King Uther is not how Merlin likes to start his day.

'What do you have that servant of yours do all day Arthur? Honestly… And where is he now? You should have been up and dressed an hour ago. Ulridien and Elvira will be here shortly.'

'Yesm'lord,' Merlin mumbles, knuckling his eyes to a wider state of wakefulness. The King presses his lips together and looks from the pile of clothes on the floor, to who he thinks is his son and back again. 'Don't tell me it is going to start all over again. You're not going to worry about what to wear like a girl, are you Arthur? You are the crown prince, and if you decide Elvira is who you want, she should be the one to be honored, not the other way around. And where is that servant?' he demands.

'Not quite sure Milord,' Merlin says, inching closer to the edge of the bed. 'I'll go looking for him right away.'

'You'll do no such thing!' Uther tells him indignantly. 'A prince going to look for his servant? I haven't heard the like! What is the matter with you boy!'

The King stomps toward the door, throws it open and yells; 'You!' to someone invisible to Merlin. 'Go fetch that useless excuse for a prince's servant will you!'

Merlin's fingers burry themselves into his hair and he cringes at the thought of Arthur being dragged out of bed by one of his own guards.

Uther closes the door again. He is pinching the bridge of his nose as he turns around to face Merlin. 'Now,' he begins, his voice that sort of forced calm someone might use on a particularly obnoxious child. 'You are going to get dressed -in something decent but that doesn't yell 'I'm trying too hard'- then you are going to join me in the throne room where we will await Ulridien's arrival. You are going to make polite conversation with both of them and let's just agree today is not the day you find your wife, all right?'

'Yes, father. Absolutely. Today, is not the day.'

'So we agree on that?' Uther's eyes widen a bit in wonder, not expecting so much compliance from his son.

'Beyond all doubt. Not today.'

'Good. Your servant can clean up this mess in the meantime. And tell him to report to the kitchens after that, they can use all the help for today's banquet.' Uther is about to walk away again when the door opens and a guard strides in, his hand on the scruff of what he believes to be Merlin's neck.

'Here he is Sire,' the guard tells them, giving Arthur a little shake. 'He was still asleep. Had to drag him out of bed Sire. He had the nerve to demand what I was doing.'

'Did he now,' Uther looks the boy, who is visibly fuming and red faced, up and down. 'Maybe a morning in the stocks will teach him some manners.'

'As you wish Sire,' the guard agrees, grabbing a tighter hold and making for the door again.

It last about five seconds, the thought. Five, beautiful seconds in which Merlin imagines poetic justice being served for all those times he had to wash rotten vegetables out of his hair. But-.

'No wait!' Merlin says, stumbling out of the bed now, arms flailing, tripping over his words as well as his feet. 'I eh- I need… Merlin, to eh- help. Now, this morning. Father. I mean-. Yes. Help.'

'Very well,' Uther makes a dismissive gesture with his left hand, the guard lets go with a shove and both men stride out of the prince's quarters.

Merlin and Arthur stare at each other, speechless while Arthur rubs his neck. After a short, loaded silence, they both burst out at the same time;

'He dragged me out of bed-.'

'I'm so sorry, I meant to wake up early and come-.'

'And then he pushed me around-.'

'But the bed is so comfortable and-.'

'Then he watched as I got dressed! Making snide remarks!' Arthur's voice rises steadily as Merlin's quietens.

'I just couldn't help it, and then your father was here and-.'

'And then he squeezed my neck all the way up here-.' Arthur yells, throwing his hands in the air.

'I could hardly tell him no-.'

'I had to rub feet!' Arthur yells, stabbing a hole in the air with a raised finger.

Again they fall silent at the same time, casting uncomfortable sideway looks at each other.

'Thanks for… you know.' Arthur is the first to break it again.

'What?'

'You know… Not letting them put me in the stocks.'

'Oh.' Merlin tries to not look guilty. 'You're welcome. You would have done the same for me, right?'

'Yes. Right, absolutely.' Arthur clears his throat. 'So, we have to find a way to undo this. It is becoming more and more ridiculous.'

'Eh, yes about that.'

'What?' Arthur moves closer and Merlin doesn't like the look on his face so he retreats a few steps.

'Eh, you have to eh - well I mean, me - as you, have to go and wait for King Ulridien and the princess in the throne room.'

'What? When?' Arthur steps closer.

'Well, now.'

'And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?' Arthur says in a low, slightly threatening voice, still advancing.

'You were to eh… clean up this room and-.' Merlin swallows hard and tucks in his chin, eyes fixated on the nose that is now nearly pressing against his own. 'Go to the kitchens and make yourself useful.'

'But I-,' Arthur splutters in a high voice, turning to the window. 'Am the crown prince! I do not work in kitchens!'

'I know,' Merlin tells him with a pained look on his face. 'And the staff thinks I'm useless enough already without you going down there and making it worse!'

'What?'

'No I mean, well-. No, I do mean… you wouldn't have a clue what to do, would you? And they'll think even worse of me and…'

'I-,' Arthur points a finger in Merlin's face. 'Am better at anything you do. How hard can it be? Scrub some pots, carry some dishes. I fight wyverns and gryphons, I hunt boar and protect our lands from sorcerers. I can carry a plate around a hall!'

'Eh. Good.' Merlin says frowning doubtfully, eyes a little askew as he tries to keep track of the pointy finger. 'So… what do I do?'

'You,' Arthur hisses, the finger still in his face. 'Sit. You eat. You drink. You keep-your-mouth-shut. You do not talk to Elli. You do not look at Elli. You do not even notice she is in the same room, you hear?'

'Wow. She must have had some effect on you…'

'Merlin!'

'All right, all right! I say nothing, I eat, I drink. Got it. Life of a prince sure is a burden…'