Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Summary: (OneShot) Merlin cursed himself for his cowardice. Was he that pathetic? It had worked on Gaius, why wouldn't it work on Arthur? 'Come on,' he encouraged himself, 'it isn't that difficult.' What could possibly go wrong? 'I could die...'
AN: I don't know, I wanted to write something light and this is what happened. I hope it will be enjoyed because I am fully aware that writing humour isn't my strong suit. Please read and review. Constructive reviews will help me become better at this!
This is a repost of the story 'Fired'. I had the lovely Sesshouluver help me out and she did a lovely job :) Thank you!
When Merlin entered Arthur's bedchambers, he exhaled in disbelief. He had cleaned this only this morning. He had left Arthur sitting at his desk an hour ago! One hour! How Arthur had managed to completely wreck the room was beyond Merlin's comprehension. The covers of the bed lay carelessly on the floor, clothes were scattered across the room and there were swords. Swords! Arthur never brought swords into his room. No doubt he needed Merlin to clean and sharpen each and every one of them.
Perhaps now wasn't the best time for his test, not with all the sharp objects lying around. The swords may be blunt but they could still hurt. Merlin wanted to know, however, needed to know. He had already tried it on Gaius earlier this week, but to be fair, the old man was hardly a challenge. What Merlin needed to know, was whether he could perform under stress, fear even.
Today, this very moment, Merlin was going to find out.
The Prince looked up expectantly. His blue eyes narrowed on seeing Merlin's hesitant behaviour and when his servant remained silent, he rolled his eyes, annoyed.
Merlin pressed his lips together. Perhaps today wasn't the perfect day after all. What if he failed? What if what he was doing was completely idiotic? Yep, Merlin thought, it was completely and utterly idiotic. But he really wanted to know if he would be able to use magic on Arthur without the Prince realizing it. He really wanted to know if he could use that one spell he had discovered only a week ago.
He reminded himself, however, that he was Arthur's servant and that it would be best if he kept his job. How else would he be able to protect the prat from all other threats? Failing in the spell would most certainly get him fired, which was just the best case scenario.
"Never mind," he smiled. He cursed himself for his cowardice. Was he that pathetic? It had worked on Gaius, why wouldn't it work on Arthur? 'Come on,' he encouraged himself, 'it isn't that difficult.' What could possibly go wrong? 'I could die...'
"Merlin," Arthur called back his attention, his eyes still nothing more than two narrow lines, "What is it, because I haven't got all day."
He would do it, no turning back, just throwing himself into the lion's den.
"I want to tell you something," Merlin started, connecting his blue eyes with the Prince's, "And you have to promise me that you won't freak out."
Arthur said nothing. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms before his chest.
"I mean it, because I know how hot headed you can be and in the end, you'll just regret it. I know I'm just a servant, but admit it, you like me and there is no shame in it. So what I am going to tell you, might be a shock, no, will be a shock. I guess that in the end-"
"Merlin," Arthur said sternly, interrupting his servant's inane babble that apparently would lead to something in the end.
"Right," Merlin smiled sheepishly, "I am..." he took in a deep breath, "a warlock."
This certainly wasn't what Merlin had expected. He had anticipated anger, fury, yelling, raging, shouting and cursing. Yep, that was about it. Instead, Arthur simply eyed him dangerously. "A warlock," he dragged out the word in disbelief.
Merlin lifted his hands in a what-can-I-do-about-it-manner. His sheepish smile faded when Arthur rose slowly, his lips pursed together.
"You're Merlin," he said, "You are an idiot. You're a clumsy, useless servant."
"One who has magic, but whatever," he quickly added when Arthur shot him the darkest gaze he had ever produced in his life. And then Arthur reached for a nearby sword and pointed it dangerously at Merlin.
"You," he snarled, "Are fired! You're a bloody sorcerer!"
"Warlock," Merlin corrected him.
Arthur lunged at him with great speed, his blunt sword held tightly in his hands, but Merlin's eyes flashed golden as the words 'Angophio' escaped his lips. The Prince halted, a short blank expression filling his face before confusion took its place. Slowly, he turned to look at the sword and then at Merlin.
"What am I doing with this sword," he asked as he tried to make sense of the situation, "Why am I pointing it at you?"
Merlin wanted to sigh with relief. His spell had worked! He had performed the magic under stress. Arthur had forgotten all about the previous few minutes. Merlin felt rather proud of himself for having achieved this.
He flashed Arthur a great, wide grin as he lied smoothly. "You just told me I had to sharpen it," he said, "because you wouldn't even be able to kill me with it properly. I had to sharpen all these swords."
Arthur eyed Merlin in suspicion, but then he cleared his throat and straightened his back as he said, "Of course, I remember telling you that."
"Are you sure?" Merlin asked, knowing he was pressing his luck here.
"Yes," Arthur half growled, "Now do as I tell you and sharpen these swords."
"Yes, Sire," Merlin grinned and turned around, starting to gather all the weapons. There was one thing this experience had taught him: he definitely wasn't going to tell Arthur about his magic just yet.
- The End -