Beta read by the wonderful Caethes, who manually put in all of the em dashes for me.
Story idea by dollopsheadsandclotpoles on Tumblr. Used with permission. :)
...
Merlin shook out Arthur's tunic. After inspecting it, he tossed it into the corner of the room with another pile and surveyed the rest of the mess scattered about the floor.
Twenty-three more articles of clothing to go.
How on earth did Arthur even manage to wear all of them?
Well, Merlin wasn't going to waste the time bending over to pick all of them up when they were just going to end right back on the floor tomorrow. If he kept on doing this, he was going to be the youngest warlock in history with back pain issues.
Putting his hands on his hips, Merlin ran through the spells he knew.
Before he could utter the first word, the door to Arthur's chambers flew open, and Arthur himself marched in, giving Merlin a heart attack.
While Merlin recovered in a coughing fit, Arthur looked around, frowning. "I thought I told you to clean this up yesterday."
Pulse still racing, Merlin kicked another tunic under the bed. "I did."
"It doesn't look like it."
"Hard to shovel out the sty with the pig still in it." Merlin snatched a pair of socks off the floor and inspected the toes and heels for holes. He wished Arthur weren't so hard on them. All of his fingers were covered in tiny red welts from stabbing himself over and over again while mending them.
Arthur harrumphed and crossed the room to his desk, where he dropped the papers he was holding. "Since that's your opinion of me, you should be glad to hear that you're being reassigned. My father wants you to serve one of the visiting princes."
"Reassigned?"
"Temporarily."
"Oh, thank goodness. You wouldn't last a day without me." He said the words lightly, but a tiny worm of worry began gnawing at his stomach. What if something did happen to Arthur without him there to keep an eye out?
Arthur scoffed. "Hardly. I'm going to enjoy every minute of it. You, on the other hand…"
Merlin narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Prince Avor is a very distinguished and respectable guest."
But there was a glint in Arthur's eye. It was the one that appeared when he told Merlin something was going to be "fun" or "easy" but ended up being "more work for Merlin" and "fulfilling for Arthur's sadism."
Prince Avor was going to be a homicidal, megalomaniac nut.
…
Prince Avor was not a homicidal, megalomaniac nut, and somehow, it was ten times worse than if he had been.
Merlin knew how to deal with homicidal, megalomaniac nuts — usually with some variation of thrash 'em, threaten 'em, or thwack 'em on the head with the nearest available heavy object.
What he did not know how to deal with was an overly polite, non-prattish prince.
"Oh, thank you so much," Avor said as Merlin handed him a spare handkerchief. He blew his nose like a mouse, folded the piece of fabric into a square, and neatly tucked it into his pocket. Looking down at the paper on his desk, he let out a little sigh. "I have not read my speech for tonight," he mused.
"Do none of you princes know how to read?" Merlin joked as he started pulling out Avor's outfit for the feast that night with Uther and throwing various articles onto the bed.
Avor's forehead wrinkled into a frown. "That's…not very nice."
What on earth?
"Why would I not know how to read?" Avor asked. Unlike Arthur, who would have thrown in some colorful language with that kind of question, Avor seemed genuinely puzzled.
"I was — it — never mind." Merlin gestured at the bed, which was covered in a mishmash of clothes. "Here are your clothes for the feast. Do we want to get dressed now or later?"
"My lord," Avor corrected absentmindedly. "Yes, now will be fine. Thank you."
Merlin was going to scream.
If Merlin had thought that George was bad, Prince Avor made him look like an ogre.
…
"I don't understand," he groaned to Gaius later. "Every other word out of his mouth is thank you. I asked him if he wanted me to punch another hole in his belt — you know how that one goes — and he told me he appreciated the concern I put into his wardrobe! The concern I put into his wardrobe, Gaius."
"Perhaps he was being nice?" the physician suggested as he stirred a pot on the stove.
"That's the point! I'm not that great of a servant, and he's a prince. He's not supposed to be nice." Merlin faceplanted onto the table. "I've got at least another week of this."
Gaius raised an eyebrow to himself.
…
Arthur was feeling rather proud of himself.
Merlin often took him for granted. Out of all of the stuffy nobles whose servants he could have been, he'd landed a fairly cushy job with Arthur. Not that he ever showed appreciation for it.
A week or two under Prince Avor's management would do him some good. Normally, Arthur did everything he could to avoid Avor's company (usually by a precisely timed hunting trip), but since it was out of his control this time, he was going to make the most of it.
Over the next few days, he saw very little of Merlin and altogether too much of Prince Avor during various meetings and meals. When he did catch sight of his manservant, Merlin's face was impassive. When Arthur tried to make eye contact, he ignored him.
Arthur would bet ten gold coins that he was dying of boredom.
Prince Avor flicked his fingers in Merlin's direction, and Merlin moved forward to listen to what the royal wanted. Then, Merlin looked at Arthur and smirked.
Arthur's blood started boiling.
Was Prince Avor making fun of him with Merlin without him?
…
"Hello, Merlin."
With a swear, Merlin dropped the basket of dirty laundry he was holding and raised his hands like he was going to slap him or something. "Arthur!" Lowering his arms, he frowned. "What are you doing here?"
"This is my castle. How is it with Prince Avery?" Leaning against the wall, Arthur crossed his arms, trying to make his appearance as nonchalant as possible.
"Avor? Everything…everything's fine…" The confused expression slowly cleared from Merlin's face. "Oh, yeah, in fact, he's the best master I've ever had."
A muscle close to Arthur's eye began twitching. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah, he hardly gives me any work and lets me go early." As he crouched down to pick up the spilled laundry and toss it haphazardly back into his basket, Merlin grinned. "I've been enjoying his company a lot, you know. I think he wants to hire me when he leaves Camelot. Honestly, I wish he could stay here year-round."
Arthur barely heard the last part.
Prince Avor. Hire Merlin. When he left Camelot.
"Well, I've got to go," Merlin told him cheerfully. "The laundry doesn't wash itself."
"Of course." Numbly, Arthur allowed Merlin to pass him.
Prince Avor. Hire Merlin. When he left Camelot.
Arthur thought the ruddy well not.
…
He cornered Gwen in a hallway with her own basket of laundry. "Have you heard any rumors?" he demanded.
"Oh, hello, Arthur." Balancing her basket on one hip, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Rumors about what?"
"Merlin."
"Oh, no, not particularly. Merlin did mention how much he was enjoying working for Prince Avor, though. Why? Is something wrong?"
"No," Arthur ground out through gritted teeth. "Everything's just fine. I just remembered that I have something that I need to attend to. Good evening." He whirled on his heel and marched off.
If Merlin thought he could just abandon Arthur, he had another thing coming.
…
On the way back to his rooms, he ran into Morgana.
"Arthur — I heard your manservant is leaving Camelot with Prince Avor, and — Arthur? Where the blue blazes are you going?"
…
The next morning, Prince Avor's entire envoy rolled out of the gates of Camelot, leaving nothing but dust and Merlin behind them.
…
"I heard a rumor," Merlin said as he polished the teapot sitting on Arthur's table.
Arthur briefly glanced up from his papers. "Oh?"
"Yeah. Some of the other castle servants told me that Prince Avor was ordered to leave Camelot by you."
Arthur snorted. "Well, that goes to show you, Merlin, that you shouldn't be listening to unfounded gossip."
"Right." As he continued to wipe the same blasted spot on the teapot's spout, Merlin grinned like an idiot.
"Furthermore," Arthur continued, ignoring him. "It's an abominable pastime."
"Oh, I understand completely."
"Your time would be better spent doing something else."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Mending my socks."