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“Mer-LIN!!” roared Arthur, storming into Gaius’ house and looking like an angry bull - only much more dim.
What have I done now? Merlin thought to himself, while simultaneously telling Arthur “There’s something called knocking, you know.”
Arthur held up a sock. A bright red, slightly worn, very expensive royal sock.
“What? Do you want me to execute the sock?” Merlin mocked as Gaius rolled his eyes.
“Merlin, I need a pair of socks, not one of each! Where have the others gotten to? It’s like someone’s been sneaking in here and stealing the damn things!”
“Well, don’t ask me!” retorted Merlin. “I wouldn’t get anything for selling them!”
Arthur tilted his head in a dangerous manner. “And why not?”
Don’t say it. He’ll actually kill you this time. Don’t do it he thought to himself. Then he said “The whiff’s so bad it’d kill anyone who wants to buy them, everyone else within the next fifty miles and their cat!”
Arthur pointed the Royal Finger of doom and devastation at him. “I’m fed up to the back teeth of your cheek, Merlin!”
See, this is why I never asked you out. Merlin thought, really starting to get annoyed now. “My cheek!? That’s rich! You know, I bet you wouldn’t last a single hour without me!”
Arthur folded his arms, leaning forward until his nose was mere centimetres away from Merlin’s. “Bet what?”
Then Merlin got an idea. “If I win, you have to clean out the leech tank for me this afternoon!”
“And if I win?”
“You get to test that new weapon that was sent to you on me. What was it called?”
“The ‘Hurtinator’?”
“Yes! That!”
“I’m not using that on you! It’ll kill you!”
Oh. That’s surprisingly nice of him.
“I’ll just make you wear the formal robes of the Prince’s manservant again. Two months.
No! Anything but that!
“Wait… Make that three months. Do we have a deal?”
“Fine!” Merlin hissed. As Arthur marched out, Gaius came over and gave him a judgemental look.
“Don’t look at me like that!”
“Stop trying to get out of your chores!” Gaius told him, sternly.
Merlin simply rolled his eyes and went to the door.
“Where are you going?” asked a bewildered Gaius.
“To spy on Arthur. I’m not going to miss this!”
“Merlin, you aren’t going to cheat, are you?”
“Of course I’m going to cheat! I’m not going to wear that stupid outfit again!”
“Merlin!” said Gaius, aghast. “That’s incredibly dishonest of you!”
“Do you want him to have the satisfaction of winning?”
“...oh, all right then.”
. . .
By the time the pair of them had reached Arthur’s bedroom door, the Prince had gotten his head stuck in a jar.
“That was quick.” remarked a very concerned Gaius, moving to go in and help.
“He usually does this earlier in the day.” whispered Merlin, stopping him from going in and helping. As Arthur smashed his head against the wall, shattering the jar.
“He’s fine.” Merlin reassured Gaius. “He’s too thick for that to hurt him.”
The Prince then got a broom Merlin kept in Arthur’s room for emergencies like this, and started sweeping. It was clearly going to be slow progress, judging by how he kept sweeping them away from where he was trying to. Not wanting them to wait forever, Merlin muttered a spell, making the curtains fall down with a FLUMP! And a CLATTER!
Cursing loudly, Arthur completely lost his temper. He grabbed his sword and started hacking at the curtains. “WHY!? WHAT! DID! I! DO! TO! YOU! YOU! STUPID! CURTAINS!?!?”
And while he was doing that, Merlin did another spell that turned his bedsheets half-off the bed, duvet and pillows - and inside out!
Arthur let out a loud, pathetic groan upon seeing this, wondering what he had done today as he buried his face in his hands (it was a lot).
“Merlin,” Gaius chided. “I think that’s enough now.”
“I’ve only just begun! I’m going to set fire to his curtains next!”
Not wanting the castle to be burned down over something as trifling as a bet, Gaius entered the room. “Sire? Is something wrong?”
An expression of pure, unadultered relief crossed Arthur’s face. “Gaius! Thank God’s teddy bear you’re here! I need you to fetch a servant for me.”
“Any servant?” Gaius asked, tapping his chin. “Why not Merlin?”
An expression of pure, unadulterated embarrassment was what now crossed Arthur’s face. “Absolutely not! I’m not letting him have the satisfaction, and a Prince doesn’t clear out a muck tank!”
“Leech tank, Sire.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Whatever! Just get someone!”
Instead of doing what his future Lord and Master told him to, Gaius said down on the bed, arms folded. “Do you want the entire Kingdom to know you can’t spend an hour without a servant?”
Arthur paused. “Well… no.”
“Arthur, we both know Merlin’s the only one you can trust to keep this under wraps.”
“But he’ll be so smug! He’ll laugh at me!”
“Would you rather he laugh at you or all of Camelot?”
“...can I think about that?”
“Think about what?” asked Merlin, his arms folded as he leaned against the doorframe. On his face was plastered the smuggest grin you can possibly imagine in whatever universe you live in.
Arthur sighed, swallowing his pride (after about five minutes).
“Merlin.” he said at last. “Would you help me?”
Merlin leaned forward, a shit-eating grin on his face. “You’re missing a word.”
“Now?”
“No.”
“At once?”
“That’s two words.”
“Oh! I’ve it! Please!”
“Alright then,” smiled Merlin, guiding Arthur out of his room. “I’ll sort all this out, you get to scrubbing the tank.”
Arthur let out a sigh, glaring at the pair of them. “If you value your lives, don’t say a word.”
“Of course not, sire.”