Summary: As Arthur, Merlin and the knights set about rebuilding Camelot after Morgana's defeat, a short break in their work gives them time for chatting up girls, philosophising and swapping tips about women. Banter and bromance...Lots of it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: This story started as a bit of banter between Merlin and Arthur to help me with some writers block and grew a bit. It was supposed to be a quick one-shot but it's turned out to be a two-parter instead. Reviews would be lovely.

Watching the girls go by

Merlin felt relief rush through his body as Gwaine took a firm hold of the stone, grunted and took its weight from him, turning quickly to swing it on to Percival who stood next in line. His chest heaving, Merlin scrunched up his face in disgust as he watched the newly-made knight lift the stone from Gwaine's hands with ease before sauntering the last few yards to the pile as though he were carrying a pillow rather than a considerable section of the East Wall.

"Makes it look easy, doesn't he?" Gwaine muttered from his hunched over position, hands on knees.

Merlin didn't have the breath to answer so merely sighed, squinted a little and shook his head. Gwaine stood up straight and observed him a little closer.

"You sure you're alright? You don't have anything to prove, you know."

Merlin shook his head a little more vehemently. "I'm...fine," he insisted breathlessly. "Grand, in fact."

Gwaine looked unconvinced. Merlin fought off the black fog building on the edges of his vision and tried to sound a little more convincing.

"Could do this all day," he announced. He was going for 'nonchalant' but suspected the result was more 'kidding himself'.

Gwaine grinned and gave Merlin a thump of the shoulder which was nearly enough to finish him. "Right you are. Look out behind you."

Merlin turned and nearly groaned out loud as he saw the size of the stone approaching them along the chain. Maybe he could just create a distraction off in the distance and magic all of the godforsaken stones into neat piles ready for the masons before everyone looked back. Surely no one would suspect anything?

"Ready, Merlin?"

Lancelot, standing immediately to Merlin's right, was just about to turn to receive the next stone and was frowning at Merlin anxiously. Despite the good intentions of both his friends, Merlin felt himself bristle.

"I'm not a child you know!" he snapped and he shook his arms (surely they were at least a foot longer after this morning's labour?) to ready himself. "I can carry a stupid rock. Give it here."

Lancelot's eyebrows arched and he threw a mirthful glance across to Gwaine.

"You heard the man," Gwaine laughed.

Lancelot nodded and turned to his right to accept the stone from his neighbour. Merlin shook his head disparagingly.

"Maybe you knights aren't used to this kind of hard work," he scoffed, reaching out to take the stone Lancelot was in the process of swinging in his direction. "But us servants –Oof!"

All at once Merlin felt the stone come into contact with his stomach and his over-worked arms. His fingers gripped the rock insistently but his arms wobbled, his back gave way and seconds later he was sprawled on the ground, the rock beneath him and his fingertips beneath the rock. Gasping for air, Merlin felt his cheeks flush red. Please don't let many people have seen.

"Merlin." It was Arthur. Of course it was Arthur. "You really are utterly useless."

Merlin grimaced and managed to raise his head enough to see the Prince standing before him, his arms folded across his chest and a disgusted (and yet slightly jovial) expression on his dirt-covered face. Merlin let out a long sigh and started trying to wriggle his fingers free.

Within seconds he was on his feet, Percival and Gwaine having managed to hoist him up, but mortified and more than a little unsteady. They were all laughing, although everyone except Arthur had the good grace to try to hide it.

"There's a reason we don't have the girls do the heavy-lifting, you know, Merlin," Arthur observed snidely, swinging an arm over his servant's shoulders. "Perhaps you'd be more comfortable helping the recovery efforts by...I don't know...embroidering something?"

Merlin turned his grimy face to Arthur. "Very funny, Sire. Very funny."

Arthur looked set to continue his roll of humour when Lancelot interrupted, speaking in a low voice on account of the growing number of spectators.

"Perhaps a break might be a good idea, Arthur? Everyone's beginning to feel the strain."

To Merlin's surprise, the Prince nodded immediately. "Of course, Lancelot," he agreed, before turning to the crowd of workers, his arm still resting across Merlin's shoulders. "Alright everyone, we'll take a break while poor Merlin recovers himself. There's a lot of work still to do to restore the East Wall and we need to get it done before we can get back to the work in the lower town. So everyone make sure you get something to eat and drink. We'll start again shortly." He turned as if to go but stopped suddenly and grasped Merlin's shoulders from behind. "Oh, and if anyone comes across a spare embroidery hoop, be sure to let Merlin here know."

Merlin gave a smile which was something between a grin and a wince. Gwaine laughed out loud to look at him and even Lancelot had laughter glowing in his eyes. Letting out a deep sigh, Merlin turned to follow Arthur.

The Crown Prince and stubbornly-unofficial regent was clambering relatively gracefully up onto a section of the broken wall. As he seated himself he looked down at Merlin and grinned.

Seeing something friendly in the smile rather than snide and mischievous, Merlin grinned back.

"How about something to eat?" Arthur suggested.

"Sounds good," Merlin agreed, looking around for the implied items of food. It wasn't until he looked back up at Arthur that he noticed the raised eyebrows.

"Oh," Merlin mumbled. "You want me to get it for you. Right."

He tried to muster enough energy in his weary body to go looking for something for the Prince to eat. Every single muscle in his body hurt.

"Merlin." He looked around and saw Arthur stretching his hand down towards him. "Get up here and sit down before you faint and make an even bigger fool of yourself."

His smile returning, Merlin reached up and took a hold of the offered hand, scrambling inelegantly up to sit next to Arthur, nearly pushing the Crown Prince backwards off the wall in the process. Once he was settled, the pair sat in silence, examining the fresh blisters on their hands and watching as the strange collection of knights, soldiers and townsfolk who had been working on the repair effort sought a place to rest or simply sank to the ground in exhaustion.

It wasn't just today that had been hard work. In the short time since Morgana had been defeated there had been little time for rest. Much of the town had been destroyed and the many homeless were living in temporary billets set up within the walls of the citadel. Food was scarce and the crops which lay in the path taken by Cenred's army had all been destroyed, placing pressure of what supplies they had. Many were dead. Men, women and children had been slaughtered indiscriminately if they had not been able to hide, and the castle's guard had been decimated. A vast number of Camelot's knights had also been lost. Merlin would not soon forget the grief which had been plain to see on Arthur's face the first time he had called together those who remained, the missing faces clear in each man's mind's eye.

But they did not take long to mourn. Too many lives were at stake and Camelot's devastated defences had left the Kingdom incredibly vulnerable. Once Guinevere had been safely escorted back to Camelot, Arthur had set the entire population to work in earnest. Endless lists of tasks had been drawn up, priorities set and sacrifices made. Then everyone had followed their Prince's lead, rolling up their sleeves and setting to work.

Merlin turned his head a little and cast Arthur a careful glance. The Prince was leaning forward and holding his forehead in one hand, his smile gone. He looked exhausted. He had been spending his few precious hours of rest each night in Uther's chamber, dozing in a chair by the King's bed when he wasn't staring, blank-faced at his sedated father, his expression unreadable even to Merlin. He couldn't go on like this for much longer. Merlin looked away. Maybe he'd speak to Gwen about convincing him to get a little more sleep.

"We'd really better find something to eat," Arthur announced wearily, breaking in to Merlin's thoughts.

"I'll raid the kitchens," Merlin offered, already trying to encourage his body into a standing position. "What do you fancy?"

But Arthur shook his head. "Someone else can do it. Sit down."

Merlin let his muscles relax again. He wasn't going to argue. This was another thing that had changed since Morgana's defeat. Arthur had joked with him that first day about cleaning his boots, but he'd never actually told him to do it. Another pair of hands had done the job, and had continued to clean them each night. Maybe it should have embarrassed Merlin that the castle servants had absorbed many of his tasks with such ease (how did they make it look so effortless?) but as the end result was that Merlin rarely had to take care of any laundry and hadn't mucked out a stable or scrubbed a floor in weeks, he wasn't about to complain.

Spotting a girl walking among the workers with a basket of apples, Arthur called out to her, leaned down and took two from the top, passing one to Merlin. They crunched contentedly and squinted into the distance where a long thin line of people could be seen making their way towards the castle, laden with baskets and bundles of belongings: more refugees from the outlying towns.

"Where are we going to put them all?" Arthur sighed.

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. "You'll find somewhere, just like you did yesterday."

Arthur looked doubtful. "Eventually we'll run out of room."

"Yep," Merlin agreed, taking another bite of his apple. "But not today. Deal with today's problems today and tomorrow's problems tomorrow."

Arthur shook his head. "The impact of that great philosophical insight might have been greater had you not been spitting bits of apple as you talked."

Merlin grinned wider and wiped the offending bits of chewed up apple off Arthur's breeches with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Look at him," Arthur burst out after a short break of silence. "He just can't help himself."

Merlin looked in the direction Arthur was waving his apple core and saw Gwaine sitting on the other side of the path on a low crate and talking to the young woman who was giving out the apples. He was covered from head to toe in dust and hadn't washed properly in days but he was still giving her his most devilish smile.

Merlin let out a chuckle. "He can't even stand up and he's still trying his luck."

"Merlin, Gwaine could be two days dead and he'd still give it his best shot if there was a pretty girl standing near his funeral pyre."

Further sprays of chewed apple accompanied Merlin's shout of laughter. Arthur slapped his back as he started to choke and then the two returned to picking the last bits of white flesh from their cores.

"I ought to pull him up on it," Arthur observed. "It's hardly fitting for a Knight of Camelot."

Merlin snorted. "If you do, can I watch?"

"I won't do it," Arthur muttered with more than a hint of annoyance. "He'd up and leave and I can't afford to lose another good knight now."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Merlin said. "I don't think he's going anywhere, Arthur."

Merlin grinned as he watched Gwaine continue in his attempt to charm the young woman. He had maintained his defiant exterior over the last couple of weeks, breaking small rules for the sake of it and partaking a little too liberally of the mead. But only yesterday Merlin had observed him carefully brushing a thin layer of dust from his cloak, taking particular care over the crest which fell over his left shoulder. Gwaine might have had no interest in becoming a knight before, but Merlin suspected things had changed. Arthur's Round Table, this new Camelot they were starting to build together – this was something he could believe in.

As they watched, the train of refugees came steadily closer and within minutes they were wandering along the rough path which separated Merlin and Arthur on the wall from the rest of the workers. If they were weary from their journey they seemed to have taken heart at the sight of the castle and the rebuilding work going on, for they chattered loudly among each other, their eyes wide as they looked up at the turrets.

"I remember the first time I saw Camelot," Merlin pondered, watching the procession before them. "It took my breath away."

Arthur looked over his shoulder at the scorch marks which marred some of the stonework and the crumbling walls held up with hastily constructed scaffolding and sheer optimism. "It's not such a sight at the moment."

Merlin shook his head. "It's still magnificent," he declared.

"Excuse me." The voice came from the path and both men turned to look down at the young woman standing before them. She smiled nervously. "Sorry for interrupting, but do you know if they're taking people in? We've come such a long way and I don't know what we'll do it there's no room for us."

Merlin stared down at the girl as Arthur spoke to her, assuring her a place would be found for them somewhere. She had long blonde hair which was tied back with a thin strip of leather. Her face and hands were as dirty as her dress but underneath the grime you could tell she was beautiful. She looked tired but so hopeful. He grinned down at her.

"Where is it you've come from?" he asked.

"Miletha," she answered. "It's a small village near the border with Cenred's lands. You've probably never heard of it."

She was right on that score with Merlin, but he knew Arthur would be familiar with it. He knew every village and hamlet within Camelot's borders, along with their rough population, best positions for defence and crop production for the last million years. He was annoyingly proficient with things like that.

Sure enough, Arthur immediately assured her he knew the place. "I've heard there's not a lot left standing out that way. Were all the crops destroyed?"

The girl nodded. "Everything. We hid in the woods until they had all passed by. They burnt the houses and destroyed everything we had. We didn't know where we should go." They'd heard so many stories like this, so many accounts of death and destruction. "We couldn't believe it when we heard Prince Arthur had defeated them."

Merlin smiled. She had no idea who she was talking too, and it was little wonder seeing as Arthur looked just as filthy and exhausted as everyone else. "Yeah, that Prince Arthur," Merlin agreed. "He's quite a guy."

"I heard he took back the citadel practically singlehandedly?" the girl asked.

Merlin opened his mouth to set her straight but Arthur beat him to it.

"Practically," the Prince agreed.

Merlin threw his master a look of disgusted disbelief. Arthur grinned back at him shamelessly.

"It's just as well he's such a good warrior," Merlin interceded, tearing his eyes away from Arthur to lean down towards the girl and whisper to her conspiratorially. "'Cause he's a bit of a prat in every other way."

She let out a gasp of laughter. "Surely he's not that bad?"

"Oh, he is," Merlin assured her. "Arrogant, conceited, supercilious...Bigger head than you could begin to imagine. I heard he has portraits of himself hung all over the walls in his chambers!"

He saw Arthur open his mouth to protest but he suddenly seemed distracted by something as he looked at the girl, who was giggling warmly. Merlin couldn't believe he was getting away with it...or that their new acquaintance seemed to find him so funny. He decided to take the opportunity and run with it.

"I've even heard," he continued in a low and confidential tone, "that he says 'good morning' to his own reflection every morning before breakfast." Here he switched to his very best 'Arthur' impression. "'Good morning, Arthur, you're looking remarkably fit and virile this morning'."

As he grinned at the rosy cheeked girl he could make out Arthur glaring at him from the corner of his eye and guessed he was having to bite his tongue to stop himself responding. He was really going to cop it later. But right now he didn't care. It served the prat right.

"I can't believe that," the girl laughed, shaking her head. "Surely no one thinks that much of themselves?"

"Oh, you haven't met Prince Arthur," Arthur drawled, sardonically, causing Merlin to chuckle quietly.

The girl's eyes didn't leave Merlin's face. "So, you live here in Camelot?"

"Ah, yeah." He scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. The thought had suddenly occurred to him that this girl might be being so nice to him because she liked him. He was immediately painfully aware of Arthur's interest in the conversation. He threw him a quick glance and saw the Prince sitting back on the wall and grinning somewhat impishly. Blood flooded to Merlin's cheeks. He'd obviously been a bit slow on the uptake. "Yeah, I've lived here for a few years now."

"It must be exciting living in such a big, busy place," the girl said, reaching up to tuck a couple of stray locks behind her ear. Merlin found himself a considered the long line of her neck and coughed awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah. It's...big." Argh! He didn't seem able to string a sentence together all of a sudden. Over her shoulder he caught a glimpse of Gwaine and Lancelot on the other side of the path who had noticed his conversation and were sporting expressions much the same as Arthur's and smiling at him somewhat indulgently. He tried his best to ignore them and recover his power of speech. "It's a great place to live, I guess. Life's never dull, anyway."

The girl smiled again. "Do you live in the town?"

"No. I...uh...I live in here," Merlin replied, waving his hand in the vague direction of the castle.

"Oh," the girl breathed, obviously impressed. "You must be important. What is it you do?"

Merlin could feel his face burning red to the tips of his ears. How could he make warming Arthur's socks in front of the fire every morning sound 'important'? He searched frantically for the right words, aware the whole time that Arthur was sitting forward now and watching him intently, eyebrows raised nearly to the top of his stupid smug forehead. A thousand lies sprung to mind, but none of them would get past Arthur. "Oh, not important really. I'm just...well, it's like..." He let out a long sigh and resigned himself to the embarrassing truth. "I'm a..."

"An advisor," Arthur cut in. "Merlin's an advisor...of sorts."

Merlin's head whipped around to look at Arthur in astonishment and then back to the girl, who looked more impressed than ever. He laughed nervously.

"An advisor?" she asked. "Who is it you advise?"

Merlin opened his mouth but he had no idea what to say. This was all getting a little complicated. He threw Arthur a beseeching look, to which the Prince responded with a roll of his eyes.

"Prince Arthur," Arthur prompted. "Merlin's one of the Prince's advisors, aren't you, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded quickly, an unfamiliar surge of gratitude flooding through him.

The girl was shaking her head in surprise, her warm smile managing to coax one from Merlin in return. "Wow. So what's it like working with the Prince?"

"Well, Arthur's a..."

"Egotistical idiot?" Arthur supplied in a low voice edged with irony.

Merlin grinned broadly. "Arthur's a friend," he finished. "Of sorts."

The girl laughed lightly. "And here I was thinking I was talking to one of the workers. I never would have guessed I was in such illustrious company."

Merlin's smile faltered. He'd just risked another glimpse over her shoulder. Making their way across the path towards them, with Gwaine in the lead and all with amusement written across their faces, was a group of knights who looked set to make as much trouble as if they were a mob of mischievous adolescent boys.

Gwaine threw him a wink.

Merlin groaned. "Oh no."

A/N: If you want to see Gwaine & Co. doing their best to torment our poor Merlin in a very big-brotherish manner, part 2 should be up in the next few days. Cheers.