Author's Note: This is a short(ish) story set in a universe in which I might or might not write more. The setting is modern, but with rather archaic structures as far as masters and servants are concerned. Merlin is ten, Arthur is twelve.

Enjoy!

Part I

"How do I look, Gaius?"

Gaius straightens the collar of Merlin's sweater, brushing away an invisible piece of lint. "Very handsome, my boy."

Merlin smiles. The blue sweater is a little loose around the shoulders, and its right cuff has been mended with yarn just a shade too dark, but it is still the best sweater Merlin has ever owned. Gaius took it specially from Arthur's Wardrobe of Uncool Clothes. That wardrobe has existed ever since Arthur turned twelve last spring, and it is full of clothes that are too babyish, too girly or too shabby for Arthur to wear (but which, for some reason, must still be kept in his room).

Merlin's new hand-me-down sweater falls in the shabby category, with its mended cuff. There's also nothing written on it, and Merlin knows that clothes without writing are uncool by default. All the Muggle kids wear clothes with printed brand names, the larger the better.

"And no using that word, Merlin," Gaius says, reading Merlin's mind in that uncanny way of his. "I told you."

"Gilli uses it," Merlin says.

"Well, Gilli gets punished every other week, doesn't he? I'm not sure he's the one to set an example."

This is true. Gilli, who is fourteen and "doesn't give a shit", got caught reading Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince in broad daylight. Merlin, who is ten and quite scared of getting disciplined, has only ever seen the battered copy of The Philosopher's Stone that Gilli showed him behind the garden shed. It was a bit disappointing, actually. What with all the fuss and the official ban, he expected it to be blood-red, with pictures of slaughtered Muggles and marching wizards on the cover. But 'Harry Potter' (on the cover, at least) was just a shy-looking boy with a dorky haircut who seemed about to be run over by a huge red engine. Not very spectacular for a subversive and dangerous book.

"Now," Gaius says. "Let's go over the protocol one more time."

Merlin groans. "Not again, Gaius."

"Merlin," Gaius' face is very serious. "I'm just trying to make sure that you don't get into trouble tonight. It's your first official function, and you know how important protocol is."

Protocol, Merlin knows, means remembering what he can do and say, and more importantly, what he can't do and can't say. It isn't always easy. There are so many things that are forbidden to them.

"Sorry." He knows Gaius is only looking out for him.

"It's fine, my boy. Now, the Master and his guests will be having dinner in the Bordeaux Room. You..."

"...will attend Arthur and the others," Merlin says dutifully.

"Merlin," Gaius sighs. For a moment, Merlin is confused – he is supposed to serve Arthur, Morgana and the younger guests at tonight's official dinner. Gaius told him so himself. Then he remembers.

"Oh – it's Master Arthur tonight."

"Yes, Merlin," Gaius says in his patience-is-a-virtue voice. "Please make sure that you don't forget. How do you serve the soup and the main courses?"

"From the right," Merlin says, wondering again why anyone would care.

"And dessert?"

"From the left."

"And what about drinks?"

"From the right. Water glasses are to be kept filled at all times; for everything else, wait until they ask for more," Merlin recites.

Gaius nods approvingly. "And what did I say about talking?"

"I should only speak when I'm spoken to, and be polite and respectful, even if Arthur is being a prat."

"I certainly didn't say that. Merlin, do make sure that you're on your best behavior tonight. It's the first time Uther's presenting you at a function, and he'll be keeping an eye on you."

For a moment, Merlin has an image of himself in a display case, being 'presented' like those old swords and maces in the entrance hall. But then, they're like a million years old and worth a lot more than Merlin.

"I will," he promises, and Gaius looks slightly less worried.

"Good. Now, after dinner everyone will retreat to the drawing room-"

"With the big Christmas tree?" Merlin interrupts, excited. Usually, only senior servants like Gaius are allowed in the drawing room. All Merlin got was a glimpse when he helped Gaius carry the table decorations for tonight's function, but what he saw must have been the largest and most magnificent Christmas tree ever.

"Yes," Gaius says patiently. "You'll see it tonight. But Merlin, make sure you don't get distracted, all right?"

Merlin huffs a little. He doesn't get distracted. It's just that boring things don't hold his attention for too long - things like cleaning windows or picking up Arthur's room. Only because Gaius caught him staring at the clouds and thinking up a story about riding a dragon, or trying out Arthur's Xbox doesn't mean that he is easily distracted.

"Merlin," Gaius says, and Merlin remembers that they're supposed to go over the protocol.

"Um, what were you saying, Gaius?"

Gaius sighs, as if he's just proven a point. "After dinner, everyone will go to the drawing room. There will be some musical performances by the younger guests-"

"Does Arthur have to play his violin?" Merlin asks, biting the inside of his mouth to suppress a giggle.

Gaius clears his throat meaningfully.

"I mean, Master Arthur."

"No," Gaius says, and for a moment his lips twitch, as if he, too, is biting back a laugh. "His instructor suggested that the young master should practice some more before performing in public."

Merlin grins. "A lot more. It still sounds like he's killing a howler monkey." Gilli said that, and Merlin thought it was the funniest thing he'd heard in years.

"Merlin. What did I say about showing respect?" Gaius sighs, and Merlin knows that it's one of those 'rhetorical questions' that don't need an answer. "After the musical performances, we will serve mulled fruits and custard-"

"Can I have some, too?"

"No," Gaius says. "And don't let me catch you sneaking some, young man!" At Merlin's disappointed face, he softens, as he always does. "I'll save you some of the custard for later, all right?"

Merlin beams. "All right."

"We're going to clear away the dishes, and then it's your turn." Gaius' face turns very serious. "Now, tell me step-by-step how it's going to go."

"The Master's going to make an announcement, and I'm going to go stand in front of the fireplace-"

"Before that."

"Oh!" Merlin blushes; Gaius told him at least a thousand times. "I'm going to take off my serving apron and give it to you."

"Please don't forget, Merlin. You don't want to embarrass Uther in front of his guests."

Merlin shakes his head; no, he doesn't want to do that. Gaius picked out the new sweater specially so he'll look respectable in front of all the gentlemen and ladies. "I won't forget, Gaius."

"Good. Now, after you've taken off your apron..."

"I'm going to go stand in front of the fireplace and wait for the Master to – to lower the controls." Merlin swallows at the thought. His controls have only been lowered a few times – when he went to the clinic to be tested, and twice so he could practice for tonight. The feeling is like nothing else he has ever experienced; like a cold sip of water on a hot summer's day, more intense even than the heady rush he felt when he secretly tried a sip of sweet wine in the kitchens. He feels terribly nervous at the idea of all those people watching him, and yet it's all worth it to have his magic freed one more time.

Gaius nods. "And then?"

Merlin grins happily. "I'm gonna rock their socks off!"

Thwap. Gaius' hand collides with the back of his head – not painfully, but hard enough to wipe the grin off Merlin's face. "Merlin! Do not let anyone hear you talk that way, you understand?"

"I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant. But if you say anything like that in front of a Natural, all they're going to hear is a powerful Sorcerer child threatening them."

Merlin rubs the back of his head. "I wasn't threatening anyone," he says, trying to hide the wobble in his voice. "I – I wasn't, Gaius."

"I know, my boy," Gaius says with yet another sigh. "But you have to understand, things are different now. You'll be watched, and you can't afford to slip up."

Merlin nods. He knows things are different, ever since he came back from the testing clinic a year ago. The Master never so much as looked at him before, and now he wants Merlin to perform at his official Christmas function. Merlin got new shoes, a new haircut, and Gaius was given permission to pick any of Arthur's old clothes for Merlin to wear. Uther even came to watch Merlin practice, looking at him as if Merlin was a particularly shiny vintage Porsche (the kind of which Uther has five in his garage, and only allows the senior caretaker to touch).

"If Bayard sells after this, and I don't see how he couldn't," Uther said, "I'll have Gaius take you to London and buy you whatever you want. What do you say to that, lad?"

Merlin bowed and said 'thank you, sir', as was expected of him. Later, Gaius explained the whole Bayard thing to him. "He's the head of a rival company Uther has been trying to buy out for years. If Bayard sees that Uther owns a Sorcerer as powerful as you, he might reconsider."

Merlin doesn't quite understand why this Bayard person would sell his company because of Merlin's Christmas performance, but Gaius is usually right about these things. Uther even asks him for his advice about business matters.

Merlin hasn't forgotten what Uther said about London, though.

"Gaius?"

"What is it, Merlin?"

Merlin bites his lip, plucking at a loose thread on his mended sleeve. "D'you – d'you think he'd let me get a dog?"

Merlin has wanted a dog for ever and ever. A big, shaggy one he can take everywhere and cuddle up to at night, when he remembers the clinic and is scared of falling asleep because of the nightmares.

Gaius doesn't look too enthusiastic. "You and a puppy, I don't know how I'm going to cope. Stop picking at your sweater, Merlin, or the cuff is going to fray."

Merlin beams. "You think he'd let me?"

"I suppose if Bayard sells, the Master will get you one hundred and one Dalmatians if you want them."

"Huh?" Merlin shakes his head. "No, I just want one. A big one."

"Then that's what you should think of tonight," Gaius says. "Think of your dog, and don't slip up."

Merlin nods. It's a good idea, as Gaius' ideas usually are. If he thinks of his dog, he won't get distracted. "I will. I'll do a good job, you'll see."

And suddenly Gaius pulls him into a hug, the way he only rarely does. "I know. It's just that I worry about you, my boy."

Merlin leans against him, thinking of his mum and how she used to hug him. Sometimes remembering her makes him sad, but not today.

"It'll be fine," Gaius says, and Merlin nods.

It's Christmas, after all.

###

It all began with Merlin and Arthur's Epic Monopoly Fight. It wasn't their first disagreement, nor their first squabble about Monopoly, but it was certainly their first Monopoly fight of such epic proportions.

Arthur was in a bad mood and even more of a prat than usual. He declared himself Head of the Bank, and took £ 50 whenever it was his turn – his salary, he said. When Merlin declared himself Financial Advisor and asked for a salary of his own, the Head of the Bank refused because of "tax deductions". Merlin knew that Arthur was making those up. But Gaius had admonished him again and again that he wasn't supposed to get cross with the young master, and so Merlin gritted his teeth and didn't start a fight.

Until Arthur decided to steal Park Lane,that was. Merlin had already bought Mayfair, and won Park Lane fair and square, when Arthur announced that he was going to take both streets for his own.

"Why?" Merlin sat open-mouthed, watching in disbelief as Arthur tucked the two cards under his side of the board. "I bought those! I gave you the money!"

"Yeah," Arthur said. "But legally they're mine."

"What? No they're not!"

"Are, too," Arthur said, with a shrug as if Merlin was being stupid. "Everything that belongs to you is legally mine."

"What, just because you're Head of the Bank?"

"No," Arthur said. "Because I'm a Natural and you're a Sorcerer. You belong to my family, and everything you own belongs to us."

It was only the thought of Gaius' disapproving face that kept Merlin on his chair. "That – you – that doesn't mean you can cheat, you prat!"

"It's not cheating," Arthur said in his most annoying know-it-all voice. "It's the law."

"It's not the law for Monopoly!" Merlin yelled.

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

At that point, Merlin forgot all about Gaius, lunged across the table and grabbed the two cards. "IS NOT!"

Arthur jumped up, scattering Monopoly money all across the table. "GIVE THOSE BACK!"

"No!" Merlin knew an attack was coming, and dodged it, the two cards pressed firmly to his chest. "They're mine, I bought them!"

"You didn't! Freaks can't buy things!"

Merlin wasn't sure what had happened next, only that it involved punching, kicking, a bitten hand (Arthur's), a bloody lip (Merlin's), and two ripped Monopoly cards. Eventually, Gaius pulled them apart.

"Merlin, what did you do?"

"He cheated," Merlin said, refusing to give in to the tears that were crowding in his throat. He was so angry. "He took Park Lane, and I bought it! It was mine!"

But then he noticed that neither Arthur nor Gaius didn't seem to care much about Park Lane, or even the blood that was dripping from Arthur's hand and Merlin's lip. They were both staring at the ceiling.

"Merlin," Gaius breathed.

Merlin looked up. The entire Monopoly game – the board, the bank, the money and the houses – was stuck to the ceiling as if someone had climbed a ladder and glued it there. But of course that was not what had happened.

Somehow, inconceivably, Merlin's magic had gotten free.

To be continued...

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