Thanks to mydoctortennant, TheAngelGirl1992, s11235 and ruby890 for reviewing! Your reviews helped write this chapter so I hope you like it

Arthur sat up groggily, wondering why his bed was so hard and his room was so small and shabbily furnished. It was really only suitable accommodation for a servant, but certainly not for him. He then realised why the room seemed strangely familiar.

'Merlin?'

Nobody answered him, but he heard soft snoring drifting through the door. He marched towards it, and flung the door open so forcefully that he caused it to ricochet off the frame, and almost slam shut again. A muffled 'oh?' issued from the room, and he opened the door more carefully, to find Gaius looking irritably at him.

'You don't have to break the door down to wake me up. You can just shake me.' Arthur opened his mouth, closed it again and blinked a few times.

'What am I doing here? Where's Merlin? He really is the most useless manservant I have ever come across.' It was Gaius' turn to blink at Arthur.

'What are you talking about? Did you have another one of those dreams where Prince Merlin's your servant? You really need to start living in reality.' By this time Arthur's eyes were almost popping out of his head, and he spluttered a few times and swayed on the spot, reeling.

By the time Gaius had managed to convince Arthur that he was Merlin's manservant, the sun had risen. Gaius looked alarmed when he glanced out of the window.

'Quick, you don't want to keep the Prince waiting!' Arthur still looked shell-shocked as he stumbled out of the room, and Gaius had to hide a secret smile.

Merlin was just beginning to realise how unrealistic his plan was as he was rummaging in Arthur's wardrobe. He had spent a while trying to find Arthur's smallest tunic and tightest jacket, and even then they were about five times too big for him. He sighed as he looked down at himself. His legs looked even more spindly in Arthur's baggy trousers, and even though the sleeves on the tunic came above his wrists, it still looked shapeless. Merlin looked around for help, not really expecting to find anything, but spotted a long cloak on the back of a chair. Trying it on, he smiled in relief. This would hide the fact that nothing actually fit him until he could persuade Gwen to create a new wardrobe. He knew that Arthur usually had breakfast with his father on the last day of the week, so made his way down to the throne room, feeling apprehensive. What if the enchantment hadn't worked? What if Uther considered Merlin impersonating his son as an unforgivable act of treachery? What if he ordered him to be burnt on the stake, or worse, hanged? By the time Merlin was outside the throne room, he was trying to control the trembling that had built up inside him; a suppressed mixture of nerves and anticipation. He stood outside the doors for a few moments, and then he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before venturing into the room. The King was sitting at the head of a long table, and looked up as Merlin came in.

'Where have you been? It's nearly mid-day, and you're breakfast is going cold.' Merlin's brain could only register the fact that Uther hadn't called in his guards to arrest him, and he sank down into the comfy chair gratefully. The King was looking at him questioningly, and Merlin realised that he was still waiting for an answer.

'It's my servant; he forgot to tidy my room, so I tripped over my boots…and banged my head, and I've only just regained consciousness.' Merlin ducked his head, so the King wouldn't see the blush that was spreading rapidly across his face. He couldn't possibly swallow that story; Merlin was a terrible liar, but when he finally dared to glance upwards, the King was nodding his head.

'That servant of yours, he gets more inept every day. I wouldn't put it past him.' Merlin ducked his head again, so the King wouldn't see him silently laughing, then Gwen brought in a plate full of meat and vegetables. Merlin could not stop a wicked smile spreading across his face at the thought of what Arthur would be having for breakfast. She winked at him as she set the plate in front of him; Merlin whispered a 'thanks' and gave her a small smile, but he was sure she had seen it. As soon as the King was settled with a third helping of breakfast, Merlin started eating with unwonted enthusiasm. The King looked up from his plate and raised his eyebrows.

'Remember, Merlin, we are royalty; we don't eat like servants.'

'Yes…father,' he replied, the word feeling strange and unfamiliar in his mouth. The King didn't seem surprised; apparently, he wasn't too close to his son. Merlin took care to eat carefully after that; to savour every mouthful so he wouldn't anger Uther.

'Sendred is paying us a visit tonight. There has been rivalry between our kingdoms for many years now, so I trust you can make a good impression.' Merlin blanched, and immediately lost his appetite. He wasn't expecting a test this early on. He'd hardly had a chance to get used to being a Prince, and now he was being thrown in at the deep end. He was sure that Sendred would see right through his pathetic disguise. Even the enchanted Uther could see something was amiss. He was looking at Merlin strangely.

'Are you alright? You've gone very pale.' Merlin was surprised at such an uncharacteristic show of concern.

'I'm fine, just a bit nervous about meeting Sendred.' Uther smiled warmly at him, and Merlin was taken aback. How strong was his enchantment?

'Don't worry about it. You'll most likely have to sit through a couple of speeches, and if you do have to speak you can just give your opinion. Nobody can hold you responsible for that.' Uther looked out of the window, and then added: 'You had better be going; your manservant will be waiting.' Merlin got up and left, trying not to walk too fast, or look too suspicious. He couldn't understand why Uther was being so affectionate, but then realised that Arthur was probably not the best son to have conversations about feelings with. He would never admit he was scared or upset, but Merlin had opened up (though unintentionally) to Uther, and had admitted he was nervous. Although Uther was first and foremost a king, he was also a father, and wanted a good relationship with his son. Merlin felt stunned at this breakthrough, and felt a new burst of confidence. Maybe this plan wouldn't be so difficult after all.

Arthur had just managed to get his head around the fact that he was not a prince any more, when Merlin walked through the door. He had a long list in his hand, and was reciting tasks for Arthur to carry out:

'…and then you can tidy my room and polish my armour-'

Arthur couldn't suppress a snigger at the thought of skinny little Merlin collapsing under the weight of all that armour he was pointing at. He was far better at fighting; he doubted Merlin would be able to move with just the chainmail.

'Is something funny?' Merlin was raising an eyebrow quizzically at him.

'No, sire,' replied Arthur, barely keeping a straight face.

'Okay, then you can make my bed and muck out the stables.' Arthur's smirk disappeared. It had just occurred to him that, no matter how ridiculous Merlin looked in armour, he would still have to do all the work. Merlin was in charge. This thought left him with a sour taste in his mouth as he walked out of the room. He couldn't be a servant, partly due to the fact that he had no recollection of ever being a servant, but he would have to bide his time until he thought of a proper plan. In the meantime, he would watch Merlin making a fool out of himself at fighting practice; that would cheer him up.

An hour later, Arthur was heartily regretting his decision to be rude to both Merlin and Gaius. He had refused to work at first, but Gaius was adamant that he would get no lunch until he had done some chores. Arthur was starting to wonder if he would ever fully regain the use of his limbs; he was built for fighting, not this endless and monotonous scrubbing. He had kept up a steady string of complaints since he had started working, but Gaius had gone out to deliver supplies and it was no fun complaining to yourself. He decided that he had well merited a break, and then remembered that Merlin would be at fighting practise, and grinned evilly to himself. Now he would get his vengeance.

As Arthur grew closer to the field, he was surprised to not hear the clangs and clashes of swords, and the occasional swearing when a knight (or Merlin) got injured for being too careless (or useless). Instead, he heard quiet conversation, and the occasional bout of laughter. Arthur walked more quickly; curious to find out what was happening. As he peered around a nearby tree to see the occupants of the training ground, he was greeted with an unpleasant scene, and gritted his teeth, grinding them together loudly. The field's occupants were lying on the dewy grass, their swords abandoned carelessly beside them. What was more irritating, however, was the fact that they all seemed to be having the best time of their lives. Sir William was chortling at Sir Pellinore's joke, and Merlin's face was lit up like a flambeau as he chatted animatedly to Sir Leon. With a start, Arthur realised that he had never seen Merlin smile; when Arthur was around, Merlin's eyes were dull and tired, and the set of his mouth was tense and angry. He could not imagine a greater contrast with this mental image and the relaxed, laughing man he saw before him, and felt an unfamiliar force twist his gut. With a shock, he realised it was guilt, but then he heard what Merlin was saying and the unwelcome sensation soon disappeared.

'He was snoring like a pig, and dribbling all over his pillow-'

Merlin had to stop for a moment to stop the violent giggles shaking his frame. His typically pallid face was a shiny red, and tears of mirth were dribbling down his chin.

'-and then- and then I had to put a cloth round his mouth to stop him waking up the whole castle-'

Merlin doubled up as a new thought occurred to him. Arthur had never realised how girly his laugh was.

'-or leaving a trail of dribble all over the floor-'

Now Leon had joined in the infantile giggling. By this point, Arthur was literally shaking with anger. His left eye was twitching, and his hands were clenched with the tendons standing out; he imagined his fingers around Merlin's neck to relieve him of some of his ire. They were obviously talking about him, but Merlin's stories were absurd. Arthur knew that he would look the same in his sleep as at any other time: devilishly handsome and noble, and he did not snore or dribble! Despite his self-restraint, he could not stop a low growl from escaping his throat; Merlin's head twisted round sharply to seek out the source of the disturbance.

'Don't worry; it's only my manservant,' he explained. The knights laughed, and Merlin smiled, savouring the feel of the word 'manservant' on his tongue. Arthur scowled at the small gathering; how dare the knights not be loyal to him, the true prince! He had half a mind to fight Merlin. His honour had been seriously tainted, but he had no chance while the knights sided with his servant. He would have to bide his time, and wait until he was alone. As he passed Merlin, he whispered a quiet warning so only he could hear:

'I'll get you back for this.' It was only six words, but these six words were sufficient in draining all the blood out of Merlin's face. When Arthur had got out of the immediate vicinity, he looked back. All the knights were still guffawing heartily, but Merlin was standing a little apart from the rest. The man's face was ashen, and his eyes darted around like a hunted animal's. Despite all the merriment surrounding him, Merlin looked terribly lost, small and alone.

Merlin made his way back to his new chambers, feeling his heart do a somersault every time a servant appeared around a corner. By the time he had made it into the room, he was shaking with a mixture of dread and relief; he had half believed that Arthur would be waiting in an otherwise deserted corridor demanding a fight to the death. After a while, he heard a knock on the door and squeaked in terror.

'Merlin?' He sighed in relief as he recognised the voice. 'It's Gwen. Are you alright?'

'I'm fine, thanks.' Merlin's fear had been replaced with embarrassment. He couldn't believe he'd squeaked with Gwen within hearing distance, and groaned before inviting her in.

'I've just come to see if you need any help...um...you know...getting ready.' Gwen blushed slightly and looked at the floor.

'I mean...do Arthur's clothes fit and everything?' she clarified, obviously knowing the answer before he opened his mouth.

'Well...I was actually going to ask you about that, Gwen.' Merlin admitted, feeling slightly self-conscious. 'Do you think you could alter them slightly, please?' Gwen smiled reassuringly.

'Of course I can, Merlin. I mean, not everyone can be as strong and muscular as Arthur.' Gwen looked aghast as she suddenly realised what she had said. 'I mean...not that you're not strong...um...I'm sure you are-' Merlin interrupted her uncomfortable stumbling with an understanding smile.

'It's alright Gwen.' She beamed gratefully at him. Merlin had never realised just how pretty Gwen was; not striking like Morgana, but sweet and attractive.

They chatted comfortably while she adjusted Arthur's clothes, that first moment of awkwardness gone. After she had done, Merlin thanked her for the help, and peeked nervously into the mirror. He was pleasantly surprised by his new outfit; it looked smart, and made him feel more confident about the number of people he would now have to deceive. He could only hope that Sendred hadn't met Arthur before.

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