Arthur fiddled with the sleeve of his dress shirt as he scanned the room again, absently watching as servers and nobles floated around the space, sowing gossip and intrigue in equal measure. Feasts were always a place rife with political scandal, but Arthur's mind was decidedly distracted from the festivities of the night. Instead, part of his mind mulled over the progress of the first day of the peace talks. Posturing and grand speeches dominated the afternoon, but an ounce of solid word or substance had yet to be uttered. Uther had reminded him that it would likely proceed with such a deliberative and pompous air but simply breathing in a room choked with thinly veiled lies and half-hearted civility was enough to suck the life out of the young prince.
"If you touch the end of your sleeve one more time, I will see to it that the next few days are absolute misery for you," growled Uther, cutting into Arthur's thoughts. Arthur quickly checked the hand that had been impulsively moving to said sleeve the whole night.
"Yes, Father," Arthur replied, dipping his head in quiet obedience. He had managed to make himself mostly presentable for the night but hadn't realized that he had pulled a shirt that was too small until he was halfway down a hallway, cape splayed out behind him as he jogged to reach the courtyard on time. And of course, there hadn't been a convenient break for him to change between then and the feast and so he was left to live with his fashion faux pas for the night.
Merlin would have known, came the thought to his mind. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile as he shifted in his seat to reexamine the room. He wouldn't deny that the other half of his mind- perhaps more than half at this point - had been quietly turning over the ideas of respect and Merlin. Gwen's advice had been solid, and Arthur saw no reason not to follow it, but implementing that advice was harder than Arthur had anticipated. What exactly would he have to do to prove to Merlin that he would respect him? That he wouldn't lose himself to whatever odd impulse seized him that fated night after training?
Arthur grabbed a fork and began to push a rather wilted grape around his plate. One thing he knew was that he would continue to call him Merlin. It might seem insignificant, but Arthur felt it worth repeating; he would never define Merlin by his station and would give him the common respect of using his name. Of course, he harbored a secret hope that perhaps such treatment would convince Merlin to drop honorifics before Arthur's name as well but had a feeling that would be a much more involved task. He sighed as he realized that it was a selfish request, too.
Focus on Merlin, you lout. Not yourself. As the grape continued its now perpetual path around the plate, another idea struck Arthur: he would ask Merlin for advice. Truth be told, he had done it times before, but it was always roundabout, as if Arthur felt foolish asking his manservant to help him with any matters other than what shirt he should wear. But time had proved that Merlin possessed an underlying propinquity to wisdom and asking him forthright would prove that he thought the man's opinion mattered. Satisfied with the idea, Arthur speared the grape and popped it into his mouth. He had to stifle the impulse to pull a face as sour juices spilled over his tongue and a decidedly slimy texture seemed to sit captive between his teeth. He quickly gulped down some ale with as much dignity as he could muster.
"I think that would be a wonderful idea, don't you, Arthur?" came the question, laced with that particular brand of disappointment that meant Arthur had missed something important. As his eyes refocused on reality, Arthur took in the situation. An eager looking, elderly noble to his right waited expectantly, eyebrows raised as he smiled. Arthur could feel the dark look emanating from his father to his left and knew that he was supposed to deliver some sort of answer to the man. Coughing to allow himself a moment of composure, Arthur turned to fully face the aging noble.
"I think that is a positively brilliant idea," smiled Arthur, softening his eyes and hoping that his statement would carry enough boyish enthusiasm that the old man would forgive the hiccup as a typical, yet forgivable, moment of youth. Arthur doubted whether it was necessary to provide any other answer than a simple "yes" as the man enthusiastically clapped his hands together, momentarily startling a servant to his right.
"Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous!" rasped the old man, creases deepening by his eyes as he smiled wider. "I haven't been on a proper hunt, in…oh, well I don't know how many years. Let me see…" he trailed, and Arthur had to strain to keep his smile from falling into a grimace.
"Don't think you can get out of this," said Uther menacingly from behind. Arthur once again offered a quick nod. He knew it would not be the most pleasant of hunts, but he also valued his life and knew not to cross his father.
"Thirteen!" declared the noble loudly, and Arthur covered his jump with an enthusiastic nod of his head. "Thirteen years. With my good friend Bennett. Or was it Barrett? Bartleby! Bartleby!" snapped the elder, and a man who seemed to have all life and enthusiasm stripped from him emerged.
"Yes, master?" came the lazy and slow reply, and the two seemed to descend into a one-sided conversation. Arthur took another healthy sip of his ale. He lifted his eyes as he did so, searching for a scarf in a scarf-less place before his gaze found and settled on Merlin. He was smiling as a group of servants laughed around him.
At least he's having fun, Arthur thought with jealousy.
"Bennett!" came the enthusiastic reply of the man next to him, the expressionless servant resuming his post behind their chairs. "It was most definitely Bennett."
Arthur turned, nodded, and smiled as he motioned for a serving boy to refill his glass. Tonight was going to be a long one.
"I told you. I don'need any of your help," insisted Arthur as he felt someone hoist him bodily from his chair.
"Yes, you do. Now stop whining," replied Merlin.
"I'm not whinin'," Arthur insisted again.
"Yes, you are! You're- I'm not arguing with a drunk man. Come on. Walk."
Arthur reluctantly agreed. He didn't know how it had happened, but one minute Arthur was drowning in the most dull conversation he had ever borne witness to and the next, Merlin suddenly appeared, and that made Arthur happy. In fact, it had been some magic words from Uther that had made it happen. Arthur had vaguely heard Uther say something about "everyday" and "I gave you this job" and "you should be grateful" and then poof! Merlin was there.
"Poof!" Arthur said, before quietly laughing to himself.
"At least you're a happy drunk," sighed Merlin as he took hold of Arthur's elbow to steer him out of the main hallway.
"I tol' you," Arthur began, raising a finger in Merlin's - or at least what he thought was Merlin's - direction. "I'm not…drunk."
"Riiight," Merlin responded dubiously. "And I'm the prince of Camelot."
Arthur shook his blonde hair. "No," he began forcefully, stopping to draw himself up to his full height. "I'm-"
"Yes, yes," said Merlin, quickly cutting him off. "You're the prince of Camelot. Silly me."
"I'm the prince of Camelot," Arthur echoed as he once again forced his uncoordinated body into motion. "You are…my…uh…"
"Manservant?" supplied Merlin as he propelled Arthur past an equally inebriated noble.
"Yes. You're my manservant. Who is very good at picking out shirts."
Merlin snorted a laugh.
But Arthur froze as a thought hit him, sending Merlin momentarily off balance. "No! You're not my manservant!" Arthur quickly backtracked. He had said something wrong. There was something from earlier... What was that thing he had been thinking about? The thing Gwen had told him? It was important. Very important. What was it...
"What do you mean I'm not your manservant?" asked Merlin, as Uther had just reminded him that he very much was. "What else could I possibly be?"
Arthur thought long and hard. He knew the answer. It was…it was...
"RESPECT!" bellowed Arthur. Gwen would be sooo proud of me right now, he thought in triumph.
"By the gods, Arthur!" said Merlin, scrambling to quiet the suddenly vocal prince. "I'm glad you know your words, but why on earth do you feel the need to yell that? And what does that even mean?"
Arthur stared at Merlin. He knew what he had to do. It was like a mission. A quest. He had been on those before. Read about them. He knew how to do this. Bracing himself, he stopped, putting both hands on Merlin's shoulders as he looked him in the eyes.
"Merlin," he began with a confidence that only alcohol could elicit. "You are my friend. My bestest friend," he declared as he shook the man with sincerity."So-" he continued, oblivious to Merlin's bemused expression. "I'm going to give you a day off ev'ry week."
A-HA! I did it! THAT is how you show respect. A day off! I'm a bloody wonderful prince.
Merlin blinked. "If you said something like this to me normally, I'd call you drunk," he said, sighing as a small smile started to twitch at his lips. "And here you are."
"A bloody wonderful prince!" Arthur happily declared.
"Yes," agreed Merlin, rolling his eyes in good humor. "A bloody wonderful prince. Now, please, let's keep our hands to ourselves and our voices down so I can get you in bed, okay?"
Oh, no. thought Arthur. Oh, no no no no no.
"Pffft!" Arthur started, trying very very hard not to laugh. Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't-
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Aaarthur?" he said slowly, drawing out the name in a way that hinted that he really didn't want to know what came next.
Oh, bloody hell.
Arthur lost it. He barked out laughter like a jackal, belly laugh ripping from his ribs and bouncing off any nearby surface. He steadied himself as the world increased its spinning around him, hand sliding against the solid wood of a wall.
Oh, but Merlin can be such an idiot sometimes!
"That's it. Bed. Now," ordered Merlin. Surprisingly, Arthur felt himself pushed only a few more feet before the heavy wood of his doors swung open to reveal his room. We walked a lot! he registered. Merlin continued to push him towards the bed; Arthur kept laughing.
"You just-" Arthur spluttered, attempting, and failing, to keep himself from laughing. "You just said that-"
"I really don't need to know what you think I just said," muttered Merlin to himself as he pulled the covers of the bed back. "But I highly doubt that'll stop you."
"-pfft!- that you were going to get me in bed." Arthur roared anew at the joke, leaning on a bedpost for balance. Merlin paled slightly.
"Oh, Merlin!" sighed Arthur as his laughter subsided, plopping himself on the bed. "You are so stupid! You would just have to-"
Wait! protested a small part of Arthur's brain. You can't tell him that. That's a secret.
"Shhh!" Arthur shushed himself, giggling at the sound his teeth made. Merlin shook his head as he handed Arthur a glass of water.
"Just drink this and go to bed, yeah?" he said, clearly exasperated and out of energy to humor the drunken prince.
Arthur frowned. He knew that tone. Merlin was angry. Now he felt bad. Obligingly, Arthur took the water and downed it in a matter of seconds, splashing a few drops on his shirt before finishing it off with a satisfied "ahhh!" Merlin rolled his eyes.
"Remember that you have a hunting party in the morning," said Merlin as he eased the boots off of Arthur's feet. Looking at the already half asleep man, he determined that was as much as he would be able to help. "Good night."
"G'night, Merlin," replied Arthur, snuggling himself into a pillow and sighing happily. "Thank you for helping me."
Merlin paused at the door and risked a glance back, but the prince was already blissfully passed out to the world, little smile still lingering on his face.
"You're welcome," he replied uncertainly before he slipped out the room and closed the doors.
Author's Note: Disclaimer - I am a complete teetotaler, so I have zero clue how to write drunk people. So please point out what you felt did and didn't work; I know it was rough, so I'm all ears! Also, I'm not 100% on how exactly to use the word "propinquity." I know how I want it to work, but if you read that part and it made you cringe, please let me know. And finally, shout-outs to mersan123, Pancake lover101, and dudewheresmywand for reviewing the last chapter! Y'all are the bestest! :) To all of you who have faved/alerted or are just stopping by, hugs to all of you, and thanks for reading!
Housekeeping: Next chapter might be short as I try to figure out a bit of a time/canon issue I'm in (I put myself further back than I intended), so that is something I'll have to address at some point. Also, I almost added in the scene I have for the next chapter here, but I didn't want to make this too long and choppy. But would y'all like longer chapters? I can't promise anything, but I can certainly make the effort if you do!