Arthur sat up in bed, staring at his manservant.
Something was different, something he couldn't quite place his finger on.

Had he cut his hair?
What a girlish thought.
No, that wasn't it.

New clothes?
No, he was wearing the same things he always did: brown jacket, trousers, blue tunic, and that ridiculous-
Wait, no, the neckerchief wasn't there.

Should he even ask?
Honestly he was a bit curious.

The king cleared his throat.
"Merlin?"

The servant turned to him with an inquisitive look.
"Yes?"

"What happened to your neckerchief?"

Merlin glanced down as if to assure himself that said garment was actually absent.
"Nothing's happened to it, I'm simply not wearing it."

"Ah."
The young man continued folding Arthur's laundry as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Normally he would have just let it go, but for some reason he just had to know.
"Any particular reason why you're not wearing it?"

Merlin regarded the blond as if he had just proclaimed his secret love of drinking mead through his nose.
"Does there have to be? I really don't see why this is such a big deal, Sire."

Arthur was undeterred.
"It's just that- well, you're always wearing the ratty things. Even at my wedding! I assumed they held some sort of meaning to you or something."

The idiot snorted at him. Snorted!
"Been watching my wardrobe that closely, have you?"

He plowed on before Arthur could object.
"I don't always wear one, only most of the time. It's simply a matter of practicality, really."

He paused briefly to place a stack of garments in the cupboard.
"I took it off on the way here because it was a bit too hot."

"What on earth is practical about those shabby pieces of cloth?"

"Oh you'd be surprised- let me give you a demonstration."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red scarf before plunging it into the nearby pitcher of water.

Arthur looked on in confusion as his friend twirled the cloth into a sort of rope, then yelped as Merlin performed a deft wrist maneuver and snapped the wet material into the king's unprotected chest.

"Merlin!" He yelled indignantly, massaging the stinging skin.

"If you had gotten out of bed when I woke you you would've been able to avoid that."
The servant said without apology.
"Now get up and get some work done."

And with that the servant turned and ran out the door, narrowly avoiding the pitcher that was thrown after him.