Chapter 1

Camelot

What woke Arthur was something truly unexpected. It wasn't pillow pulling, blanket snatching or heinous morning optimism. It was a soft footstep and the almost silent sound of plates being set against a wooden table. It wasn't Merlin.

He opened his eyes, staring at the sideways figure of a nervous servant. The young man fidgeted for a second, before setting down a goblet as well and giving a slight bow.

"I'm sorry m'lord, I didn't mean to wake you." With another hurried bow the servant took quick half steps towards the door.

"Wait." Arthur barked. The servant looked frightened and Arthur sighed and flashed him a quick prince like smile. "Where is Merlin?"

"He um, he, well, Sire. He quit. He came down to the servant's quarters and said that you wanted a new servant. I though you knew?"

Arthur sighed again. "He can't actually quit." Could he? "Would you get me some clothes." He threw off his covers and stood up, he felt well rested. He wondered why it was such an unwelcome feeling. Though, honestly, he knew why.

Merlin.

He knew what he said was bad but, had he been wrong to think Merlin would just come back without him giving a proper apology?

Obviously he had.

A Day Earlier

"Rise and shine, sunshine!" The familiar over bearing voice woke Arthur up from his sweet, sweet sleep. He ignored it.

He heard Merlin's footsteps stomping over to his bed. "It's a lovely day Arthur!" The servant said with a hint a mischief in his voice. Arthur grip tightened visibly on his pillow. Merlin paced off and clanking noises followed. "What have you been doing in here, it reeks like burnt herbs! Oh I swear, you spend more time asleep then you do learning how to rule your country you dollop head!"

Arthurs eyes snapped open. "I swear you spend more time at the tavern the more you're needed. Where were you last night, I wonder, when I sat through boring meetings with no fidgety servant to serve me." He hissed, steel in his voice.

Merlin glared back, "I wasn't at the tavern." It was true, he had spent the night trying to convince a renegade sorcerer that killing Arthur just wasn't worth it. He had gone to bed pleased with his persuasion ability. Now he was putting them to the test again.

"Merlin you don't need to lie about that! I already know." Merlin just looked on annoyed. Arthur had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, in the wrong bed, and on the wrong planet, it seemed. A mood that so rarely graced the prince that it turned Merlin's sour in mere seconds.

"I'm not lying Arthur! I do more then you think I do." Perhaps Merlin's persuasion wasn't all that good actually, and the still stinging bruise that covered his right side was proof of that. He hadn't slept well either, hardly slept at all, and Arthur was upset because he didn't have time to entertain him during some boring meeting.

The shared nasty mood was evident for both parties. Smart level-headed people would back away slowly and resolve to forget this ever happened. Smart-level headed people didn't get into these 'I'm in a bad mood, you're in a bad mood, you're the root of all my problems and I'm the root of all yours' type fights.

"More then I think you do! Merlin it's your job to scurry around quietly and, god forbid, invisibly while catering to my every whim before I decide to whim it!"

"Oh, well that makes total sense your highness! I'd need to be a drunk or a sorcerer to be able to see your whims before you had them. OH, actually, wait, I already am a drunk."

When Merlin didn't end any more of his arguments with dollop head Arthur knew this fight had gone to far a long time ago. But he found he couldn't stop. Heat of the moment, pride, anger, Monday morning, more meetings waiting for him a few floors down, this is everything he would blame his words on.

"Merlin you're a totally useless servant. You can't do anything right and you spend so much time at the tavern I'm beginning to think that keeping you around will tarnish my name. A servant who knows his place is much more valuable then a servant who can't admit he's a drunk! You can either learn your place or you can sober up in the dungeon for a month. My father was right about you not being worth the risk to save." There was a pregnant pause as his words caught up with his brain. When Arthur realized what he said and bit his own tongue so hard he drew blood. He didn't go back on his words; he wasn't sure he could.

Merlin just stared, Arthur saw the hurt flicker across his pale eyes. Then pain, a cold and deep hurt that told Arthur he had gone too far.

"I quit."

"You can't quit."

"Fine, I'm going to spend the rest of my pay on ale and get so drunk that I die in an ally and you will be forever known as the prince whose servant got so drunk he couldn't tell his bed from a cobble road." The words tumbled out quickly and breathlessly. He wasn't shouting, he was talking, like what he was saying was perfectly normal Merlin thing. It wasn't, this whole fight really wasn't like either of them. It was strange. The heated mood had taken a hold of there surroundings so fast and disappeared so quickly it was like magic.

Merlin turned and stalked towards the door.

"Merlin wait." Arthur shouted, his voice tainted with an anger that was simply taking to long to fade. Merlin waited, hand resting on the door. "I'm-" He didn't finish, he couldn't. That wasn't something a prince said to his servant. Merlin wasn't just a servant though, Arthur wanted too say it but something was stopping him. Merlin still waited though, giving him a chance to build courage, or destroy some of his pride.

He hated how even after there worst fight ever Merlin could still read him like an open book. And he still had the patience and loyalty to wait. The moment passed, and his pride hadn't caved. Merlin let out a breath, a shaky one, and left the room.

Arthur slowly realised he had spent the entire fight lying in his bed and felt suddenly rather silly. And very, very sad.

Present Day

"Why did I say that! Why did I say any of it?" Arthur was pacing the small confines of Gaius's chambers. Gaius watched him intently, listening too him as he explained what had happened the night before. "I wake up today and Merlin's still gone, you haven't seen him. You don't think he actually…" He didn't finish the thought let alone the sentence.

"If I may, Sire, the fight was uncharacteristic of the both of you. It is strange that you both grew so angry so quickly, Merlin certainly does not have a quick temper. Perhaps sorcery could be involved? And Sire, have no worry of Merlin getting that drunk, he would have stumbled home giggling and completely ignorant of the reason he went out in the first place before he was drunk enough to do anything remotely stupid," he paused. "I think."

"You think? Though Merlin did mention an odd smell in my room now that I think about it, what would the point of a spell that just make me and Merlin argue."

"Perhaps it was a poultice then and it is true that he did not return home last night. I thought that he was with you, Sire, knowing about the argument makes his absence much more troubling. Perhaps it was to get you to distrust Merlin, so he could be taken, it is well know that you two are close. I can check for signs of sorcery at a later time."

Arthur's reply was interrupted by a sudden squawking and a burst of pink launching itself from the railing above them. The pink landed on Arthur's head and a sudden bout of shouting and squawking and flailing ensued.

"Stop!" Gaius shouted, and instantly Arthur stopped his shouting and the pink demon settled down on Arthurs head.

"What manner of demon is latched onto my skull?"

Gaius chuckled and reached above him, plucking it from his head. It was a chicken, a very pink chicken. It was glaring down Arthur like he had just murdered his entire family. Arthur remembered the chicken he had had for supper and glared right back.

"A farmer stopped by earlier, said that half the chicken farmers he knew were dealing with some colourful chicken this morning. He was worried it might be some kind of disease so he brought me a chicken to look over."

"Is it some disease?"

"No, intriguingly it is not a disease, someone took the time, and wasted a fine sum, and dyed the chickens pink."

The chicken, with it's evil eyes, was bright pink everywhere but the head. Which made sense since they didn't want to drown the chicken. "That does seem like a waste of time." The chicken stuck it head out and jutted its chin before leaping out of Gaius arm and right back on Arthur head. It settled right down.

"It's fond of you Arthur."

"That's great," he mumbled. He reached up to take the chicken down but it pecked his hands with murderous ferocity. He elected to allow the animal to stay on his head for a little. He had bigger things to worry about then pink chickens. "Do you have any idea where Merlin could have-"

He was cut of by another demon squawking and banging about.

"Gaius, you wouldn't happen to have a fancy hangover cure would you? Cause that boy of yours and his new friend out drank me like it was there life mission. I've never seen that servant actually come to the tavern and get drunk, ever, but last night was whoa." The brown haired knight stumbled into the chambers and plunked down into a chair, rubbing his head and squeezing his eyes tight. If a man like him had a hangover, then the possibility Merlin was dead in the gutter just skyrocketed.

Gwaine opened his eyes, staring at the scene before him, or more likely just the chicken. The chicken stared back.

"Am I actually still drunk, or is the prince of Camelot wearing a pink chicken on his head?"