Chapter Text
Arthur didn’t know when it began, but suddenly, he felt like his world had changed. One morning, he couldn't care less what his useless manservant did, and the next, he felt like his world revolved around Merlin.
Seriously, Merlin, of all people, his lack of agility in hunts caused him to lose his prize and his disregard for ranks even with the King. How was he supposed to act normal around his manservant when all he could think about was how his eyes seemed to sparkle gold at some moments or how he wanted to reach out and intertwine their fingers when their shoulders brushed?
There were two problems with this situation: there was no way Merlin liked him back, and if he did, he was below Arthur’s rank. Not that Arthur cared about ranks after his brief time with Guinevere before Lancelot came back, and Arthur decided to step away after he saw them look at each other. Gods above, he wanted what they had. However, he did not know how to communicate his feelings to Merlin. Merlin was the one who helped him woo Gwen, so how was Arthur supposed to know what to do? And there's still the fact Merlin only saw him as a royal arse he was made to take care of. Arthur didn’t make things better for himself with their first interaction either. He still winces when he remembers almost taking Merlin's head off with a mace, but he was really impressed the man had the guts to threaten the Crown Prince of Camelot.
So Arthur did what Arthur knew best.
“Mer-lin,” he yelled, looking for the manservant. He had been gone all day, most likely at the tavern, like Gaius always told him. Merlin never wanted to go to the tavern with the Knights, though. I guess he prefers drinking by his lonesome, Arthur thought. However, Merlin was by his side in a matter of minutes.
“Where were you?”
“Out.” Merlin said with a tone.
“Out where?” Arthur inconspicuously inquired.
“Gathering herbs for Gaius.”
“Gaius said you were at the tavern.” Arthur smacks him in the head, regretting it the moment after it happens. Before he could stop, he says, " We've Been at the slow gin, haven’t we?” He inwardly cringes as his manservant soothes his head.
“Why must you always hit me?”
“I'm not hitting you. It's mere horseplay.” Nice save, Arthur. They continued to bicker until getting to Arthur’s chambers, where he started listing chores for Merlin. “I need you to wipe the floors, polish my armour, sharpen my sword, and get me lunch, preferably chicken and some sweetmeats.” Yes, his secret plan was to woo Merlin with chicken. Merlin replied, “Are you sure you need all that food? By the looks of it, your belt can't take any more holes.”
“Are you calling me fat, Merlin? Because I am not fat.”
“No, I'm just saying you should lay off the sweetmeats, sire.”
“Just get me the damn chicken. And get me ready for training!” Arthur restrained himself from throwing a goblet at Merlin. Merlin laughed as he got Arthur dressed. The small touches between them sent Arthurs's heart racing, and he had to come down before a blush crept on his face and gave it all away. By the end, he was red in the face and blamed it on the heat outside.
Training went smoothly until the Knights decided to head to the tavern to buy drinks. The one day Arthur decides to woo Merlin, Gwaine finds him and convinces him to join the Knights at the tavern. Arthur was not mad at all. So, if anyone saw him grumbling as he drank his tankard of mead, he would deny it in a heartbeat.