*Stares at the word count* Wow, I wrote something short... on purpose... How the hell did that happen?!

Disclaimer: All the wonderful characters of Merlin belong to the BBC. I'm just playing.

-1How Arthur Found Out

As Arthur stood in the doorway to his manservant's room, he knew he should be angry. In fact, he really had a whole range of emotions he could potentially choose from at the moment: anger, betrayal, disappointment, annoyance, disbelief, anger...

The problem was that the Crown Prince of Camelot wasn't quite sure what exactly he should be angry about; that his rather useless manservant, Merlin, could do magic and hadn't told him (he also wasn't quite sure why the 'hadn't told him' part made a difference, but apparently it did), or that he was using magic to do his chores whilst he happily napped on his bed.

And Arthur really wasn't prepared to address the issue that Merlin could do magic - not to mention polish his armour with magic - in his sleep.

He'd been in the midst of a Great Manservant Hunt, which had taken him around the entire castle - or possibly just from the stables to his chambers, where he'd discovered Merlin missing, and then to the physician's rooms. Gaius wasn't in, but that wasn't anything unusual. The Royal Physician was often out tending to his patients both inside and outside the castle walls. So, he'd waltzed straight through and up the stairs to Merlin's room.

He didn't knock. He was a prince and princes didn't need to knock. Unless the room belonged to either Morgana or his father, or possibly any other visiting noble and it would likely be rude of him to enter the rooms of one of his knights without knocking... Well, it wasn't as if Merlin ever knocked, so Arthur didn't see why he should.

Of course, not even being trained to kill since birth had prepared him for the sight of his armour dangling in mid-air as a rag shined it to perfection, or to see a disembodied brush dipping itself into a pail of soapy water and then proceeding to scrub the grass stains from his breeches, or to watch as invisible hands simultaneously cleaned three pairs of his shoes.

And then in the middle of all this bustle was Merlin, peacefully sleeping away as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

Well, at least one thing was official: his was definitely the laziest servant in all of Camelot.

Now that the initial shock had begun to fade, Arthur had to admit the whole thing was rather anti-climactic. He'd seen what magic could do: he'd had a sorceress destroy the cliff he was standing on in order to kill him, he'd swung his sword at a griffin and watched it shatter to pieces and he'd heard plenty of stories of evil sorcerers and enchantresses from his father...

He'd never thought he see magic - the root of all evil, according to the king - used for something as ridiculously mundane as cleaning boots. Somehow, it made it hard to be frightened of it. Not that Arthur was ever scared. Arthur was a brave knight of Camelot, who was always courageous and never, ever scared of anything. Especially not of clumsy, idiotic manservants... who secretly could do magic...

Suddenly, the truth hit Arthur with full force. His eyes narrowed at the deceptively angelic form on the bed.

His manservant, Merlin the Idiot, had managed to keep something this big a secret from HIM, Arthur Pendragon, the Crown Prince of Camelot and strongest of the Knights of Camelot. Well, now, that just wouldn't do.

Arthur smirked and walked out of Merlin's room, quietly closing the door behind him. He'd just have to tease and torture his friend until he burst and did something spectacular - such as lighting Morgana's skirts on fire. Then he could gloat about what a horrible actor Merlin was and how he'd known all along.

That was the moment the prince realized he trusted Merlin more than he'd thought he did. Because, somehow, he just knew that Merlin would never use his magic to harm him or anyone within Camelot.

Half-way down the stairs leading from Gaius's rooms down to the rest of the castle, Arthur suddenly stopped. Merlin, he realized, may not ever intentionally mean harm towards anyone, but he did have this rather annoying habit of being incredibly clumsy...

Arthur shook his head, determined not to get paranoid about this. Perhaps, magic was the one thing Merlin was actually good at.

The next day, Merlin would wonder why his master kept eyeing his perfectly polished armour suspiciously, as if expecting it to suddenly come alive and eat him.