Quick Info: This is post-reveal, but pre-legalization. Arthur is king and knows about Merlin's magic; the kingdom does not. That's 'bout all you need to know :)

Drabble 17- Aftershock

When Merlin's magic had been revealed, he hadn't thought much about Arthur's choice of words. It'd been a blur of disbelief and incredulity, to anger and yelling, to exhaustion and finally (finally) acceptance. However, later he thought about Arthur's wording often.

There were several things to be said that each stuck in Merlin's memory, of course ("You lied to me… you actually lied to me. For years," to "You're my friend, I won't light you on fire."), but one deceptively normal insult of Arthur's had stuck with a special tenaciousness, and it often made itself known once deeper, darker concerns had quieted themselves.

"You can't be magic, you're too clumsy."

Something about that seemed odd to Merlin, but for a long time he couldn't put his finger on what it was. When he finally did, he wasted no time in confronting Arthur about it.

Merlin walked into Arthur's room holding a broom and bucket full of soaps and cloth, but without the intention of actually cleaning anything. Arthur barely looked up from his desk at the creaking swing of the door, just mumbled a greeting and continued scribbling away.

Merlin resorted to kicking the door shut behind him before unburdening himself, dropping his supplies onto the table with a clatter. Out of habit, he shot one last cautious glance over his shoulder at the door; then a few muttered words and a flash of gold saw the cleaning supplies come alive.

Merlin could feel the weight of Arthur's eyes on him, his actions finally distracting the knight, but the king didn't object so the warlock carried on. The broom set across in a sharp, neat dance across the floor, while the rags busied themselves with soaking in the soap and polishing the armor.

"You don't usually do that while I'm in here," Arthur said after a long moment. Merlin glanced over at him nervously, but the king didn't look particularly upset (although he was perhaps a little pale, but next to the harsh midday light streaming in from the window it was hard to tell). He said it as if simply stating a fact.

"If you want me to stop, I will," Merlin ventured, just in case, but his friend dismissed the offer almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"It's about time I got used to it, anyway," Arthur assured him. Merlin could definitely see he was a little pale now, but still felt gratitude surge through him at the obvious effort his friend was making to normalize Merlin's magic.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the magic scrub away, before Merlin turned his attention back to Arthur.

"Arthur, I've been thinking"- here said king snickered, but Merlin hurried on before Arthur could comment- "and I was wondering what you meant when you said I couldn't be magic."

"What?" Arthur frowned, finally tearing his gaze away from the dancing supplies. "I would have thought it was fairly straightforward."

"You said 'you're too clumsy to be magic'," Merlin clarified.

"Why is that strange? You trip over thresholds."

"Well, doesn't it imply that you need a certain amount of skill to be a magician?"

"I…" Arthur began, and then stopped, his eyes narrowing. "Wait a minute."

Merlin quickly took a few steps back, just because Arthur's hand was fairly close to some very throw-able looking items, and Merlin was in no hurry to get acquainted. That wasn't to say he was going to abandon his argument, however.

"So, by extension-" He carried on, before being cut off.

"Merlin-"

"Since I'm magic-"

"Merlin."

"Doesn't that mean you think I'm skilled?"

Arthur put his head in his hands and shook it slowly; whether from exasperation or dread Merlin couldn't tell.

"Merlin," Arthur mumbled, his words muffled slightly by his hands, "just because I have a certain amount of respect for the enem- ah, former enemy- doesn't mean I don't still think you're a clumsy idiot."

"But you do think magic requires skill," Merlin persisted. "So, really, me telling the truth improved your opinion of me."

"I didn't know you were so desperate for my approval," Arthur said dryly, now leaning back in his chair in a manner that was definitely exasperated. Merlin ignored the comment.

"Admit it, Arthur- I impressed you," Merlin said smugly, crossing his arms with finality. Arthur scowled.

"You're impressively dense, that's what you are," the king grumbled. "But yes, I suppose you impressed me a little- Don't give me that look, Merlin, it took you years to do."

Merlin's smug grin remained locked in place. Behind him, his cleaning supplies finished up their work and returned to Merlin's bucket, falling limply against the battered metal with a hollow, wet clang.

"It that all?" Arthur asked, finding his exit and seizing it. "Because the stables need to be mucked."

Merlin's smile quickly did a one-eighty. "But I can't do that with magic. It's too public."

"Exactly," Arthur smirked, nodding pointedly to the door. "Have fun!"

It wasn't until later that the king realized the Merlin had likely brought up the subject at all to distract the king from the magic and make it all the more easier to accept.

What could he say? He was impressed.