Things That Merlin Isn't Allowed To Do (According to Prince Arthur)
5: Act As the Visiting Dignitaries' Manservant
Arthur has never found reason to dislike Prince Richard, the oldest son of the neighbouring King Lot. All right, yes - he admit that he's found a few reasons, like how the man is so incredibly polite that even bootlickers feels disturbed by it. He's also a good sword-fighter, good enough to rival even Camelot's lead fighter, knight and champion (which is Arthur, of course) which isn't pleasant for said champion. And king Uther is disturbingly fond of the foreign royal, always offering him to stay a bit longer - Arthur has a feeling Uther is trying to woo the bordering kingdom into a firm alliance through its prince.
So, yes, all right, he doesn't take particular liking to Prince Richard. The feeling is mutual so the simplest is for the two too simply avoid one another during the yearly visits to either kingdom.
But Arthur is a prince and shouldn't be bothered by such trifling things like who is the best at swordplay. An alliance with a powerful kingdom is more important than the fact that its prince is infuriating and aggravating and sickeningly polite (and Arthur still hasn't forgiven him for that duel two years ago).
So he takes a deep breath and reins his emotions, putting in a pleasant mask as he greets the prince. The prince replies good-manneredly, stretching out a hand and Arthur reluctantly takes it.
The mask however cracks when his father offers Merlin to serve the visiting prince during his stay. And prince Richard looks over at Merlin, who's just stands there smiling nervously (Arthur wants to call him an idiot for doing that) and nods and says, "Thank you, sire, it's an honour." and Arthur has a well-justified urge to kindly tell the man to go and get his own damned manservant because Merlin is his.
Unfortunately, King Uther is still present, so Arthur cannot say that. Out loud. In his head it's another matter. He proceeds to glare daggers at the other prince.
Merlin, the idiot, doesn't seem bothered when he's practically given away like a fine vase or piece of furniture. When he should be bothered. Arthur wants him to be angry and annoyed and complain, to walk up to him with certain steps and say that he doesn't want to work for the visiting prince. Instead, the servant just nods dutifully, and the king ("Father, what are you doing?" Arthur internally shouts) sends him off with prince Richard's luggage. The prince sees that the servant is struggling so he walks up and offers his help with a voice coated in honey and Merlin grins and says, "It's OK, I got it" but the prince insists and they end up walking side by side up into the castle, and the King watches it all completely unfazed.
Damn that fck&ch$#!, Arthur chants in his mind, glaring daggers at the other prince's back. (Among some other less kind, unsavory things as well.)
()()()
One week passes by like this:
Prince Richard is quite pleased with his temporary manservant. He might sometimes stumble, say the wrong kind of things - being far too honest than what most nobles would prefer - and come to work late in the mornings. But he does his duties without question, and with quality, and the prince finds he's very easy to talk to.
It's not difficult to share one's thoughts and it doesn't take long for prince Richard to understand how much Merlin likes to talk. Particularly about one certain topic, dreamy-eyed and smiling, and blushing when the prince remarks on it. Richard takes it all in a stride and finds it very easy to like the servant, be friendly with him and help him carry things through the castle. The two are seen often together, laughing as they go, and once, they walk past the royal chamber wing, Richard with a hand on Merlin's arm, and if King Uther hadn't timely passed by Arthur would have ignored all formalities and smashed the other prince's nose in.
Prince Arthur's temporary manservant is always on time, the meals are set up on the table like a picture every time and there's wine to breakfast, there's not a single spot of dirt on his armour or in his chambers and there's no unnecessary talk when the servant dresses him. In fact, there's no talk at all except when Arthur gives orders and the servant replies "Yes, sire." It would not be a surprise if it was the man's whole vocabulary: 'Yes, sire, no, sire, I'm not sure, sire, right away, sire.'
It's a perfect servant and he drives Arthur mad. He's not used to it that way, and he later realizes he doesn't want it that way. He wants to talk and banter and a reason to laugh; he wants to be corrected when he's arrogant or wrong, wants to be called a prat when he is one; wants the room to be a bit messy because Merlin knows exactly where he wants his stuff. With the new servant he can't find anything, it's all in the wrong places, all sorted and orderly.
In short, Arthur's going through hell and every time he meets Merlin, the servant keeps telling him how wonderful prince Richard is, how nice and kind and fair and awesome he is and he hasn't called Arthur a prat/clotpole/dollophead in a whole week.
Finally, Arthur's had enough.
For some reason, prince Richard doesn't look surprised when the gauntlet lands before his feet. He picks it up without hesitation.
"I'll see you in the arena, prince Arthur."
()()()
Uther isn't very pleased, of course. "What's this about?" he demands to know when Arthur announces he is to duel with prince Richard the following morning.
Arthur doesn't give a straight clear answer. He can't exactly say that the other prince is making claim on his property. So he settles for the not-really-a-lie about the other prince "insulting his person and his honour". It's not a reason for a fight, Uther berates him, but Arthur tell him anything more, and nothing can stop the fight since the other prince has accepted the challenge; it's irrevocable.
"If you lose..." Uther begins warningly, lifting a finger, once he's accepted that Arthur's going to fight like a boy in a brawl. It's strange that the king warns him like that; he should be displeased altogether. Although, he might be thinking of how Camelot's, and therefore his own, pride will be insulted if Arthur loses.
"I do not have the intention to."
()()()
The morning arrives crisp and bright, and Merlin is rather confused about it all as he helps Arthur into his armour: the prince won't have it done by anyone else. "I don't get it," the servant says, almost whining, "Richard hasn't done anything. Was it something he said? It's something like that, isn't it. Or you got into a silly fight and called each other names and now you both got to fight to regain your honour. That's it, isn't it?"
"Of course not."
"Then why are you doing this? Arthur, it's not a good idea. What if you get hurt or-"
"Merlin."
The boy rolls his eyes and by the gods, Arthur's missed this. "Shut up?"
"Yes. A brilliant guess. You've just been upgraded from from idiot to dummy, congratulations."
Merlin makes a displeased noise, wrinkling up his nose. "Something's wrong. You haven't been this snappy for months. Seriously, Arthur-" He's saying his name, not calling him sire or my lord, it's an immense relief to hear. "-You shouldn't do this. It's a bad idea. Prince Richard is pretty handy with the sword, I've seen him train. What if you get injured?"
"Merlin, just shut up and hand me my sword."
The servant mumbles something on his breath, turns around and presents the weapon to the prince. After a moment's pause, before Arthur can leave the tent for the arena, Merlin stops him, chewing his bottom lip. He looks strangely nervous, apprehensive, worried. The sight kind of warms Arthur's heart a bit. "...Be careful, all right?"
The prince nods jerkily, tearing his eyes away from Merlin's face.
"Yeah. Of course."
()()()
A surprising lot of people have heard of the event and gathered to watch. They fill the sidelines, a hundred unimportant faces and clapping hands. Arthur is entirely focused on the man in armour in front of him. Before they begin, Richard speaks above the sound of the excited crowd.
"Remember our deal. The winner gets the prize, unhindered."
Arthur growls from deep in his throat. He's going to win this. Over his dead body will he let prince Richard walk away from this arena victorious.
The king raises his hand, the champions get battle ready; the arm lowers as a signal to begin and their swords clang together.
Merlin has always been quite impressed by Arthur's skills, but also thinks the man is an incredible show-off. Usually, he fights with full grace and control and has an air of calmness about him. Today, he's full of unrestrained energy and though he's graceful, there's an unusual brutality to his movements, like he wants to chop his opponent to little pieces. Even if prince Richard is also a very good fighter, better than many of the knights that Merlin's seen, he doesn't seem to stand a chance against the ferocious prince of Camelot.
The servant finds himself cheering and grinning and clapping his hands one moment, the next crying out to Arthur, "Watch out!", the next worrying his lower lip when it looks like prince Richard is breaking through and gaining the upper hand. Sure, he likes prince Richard, he's kind and nice and funny, but Merlin can't imagine Arthur losing and he doesn't want the prat to get hurt.
The duel doesn't go on for more than a few minutes. Prince Richard react a millisecond too late and Arthur pushes him off his feet, places a foot on his shield so that he can't move and holds the tip of his sword against the man's chin, the metal pressing dangerously close to the skin.
"Alright, I give up," the other prince wheezes between sharp breaths for air.
Arthur looks at him warningly a little longer before stepping off and sheathing his sword - this might be a duel, but he can't kill the man, it's not like fighting a challenging foreign knight; it'd cause too many political implications and so on, and he looks a bit better when showing mercy. Prince Richard gives Arthur a strange look as he walks away without looking back. The crowd howls with happiness at seeing their beloved prince win (again: he'd won the last five or so tournaments held in Camelot in a row so his victory now isn't in any way unexpected).
"I knew you'd do it!" Merlin grins at him as Arthur crosses the sand and reaches the tent set up for him. The prince is too tired to reply at once, but a wide smile spreads over his face. Even though the idiot had spent a whole week following by prince Richard's feet, he still cheers for Arthur, still is proud of him. It was an incredible relief.
"Of course," Arthur retorts when he takes seat heavily and the servant begins to unclasp the armour. "What did you expect?"
"Prince Richard seemed like a tough challenge. The fight looked rather ferocious, and for a moment there he could've won." Merlin glances up at him, there's something shining in eyes, possibly admiration and/or pride. It might just be Arthur's imagination though. "But ... I'm happy you won."
"Yes, well," Arthur says awkwardly suddenly finding it difficult to express things, or more difficult than usual. He takes off his gloves, avoiding looking at the boy's face. "It was nothing. Once you're done here you can clean my armour, sharpen my sword and tidy my room."
Merlin doesn't say anything but smiles in that soft and knowing way - and Arthur realizes that the servant might not be as simple as he looks and might have had an inkling what this whole affair's about. The realization makes his pulse speed up, and his face flushes with embarrasment and pleasure combined.
He waves a hand toward the entrance of the tent. "Go do it then. And don't forget to bring me dinner!"
The smile stays plastered on Merlin's face for the rest of the day.
()()()
After that, the prince of Camelot never again allows Merlin to act as any visiting dignitaries' manservant. And he keeps challenging people who as much as look the wrong way at said manservant. King Uther can't for his life understand why his son as so adamant on this point, but the prince has inherited his father's stubborness. Nothing will make him change his mind. Ever.