Swish, swish. Huff. Swish. Swish, swish. Sigh. Swish, swish. Swish. "Bugger."

Merlin did his best to ignore the almost dramatic mutterings of the prince as he cleared the table from breakfast, but after they'd gone on for more than five minutes, he was starting to think that Arthur was waiting for him to comment.

"Wardrobe malfunction, sire?" he spoke up, earning him another sigh in response as Arthur came out from behind the changing screen. The Prince wasn't often one to worry so much about how he dressed – that was more his father's thing, and Arthur didn't exactly parade around in royal attire when he didn't have to. But today was a special occasion. Some obscure lord and lady were paying a visit to the citadel and there was a feast being held in their honor, and as they were set to arrive this morning, Arthur had to look at least presentable. Merlin had been in charge of clearing the prince's schedule, making sure that there was someone capable to take over training the new recruits for Arthur, assuring that he knew who was coming and when and what meals were to be taken in the Great Hall and when he had to be in the square… of course, with how late the prince was running, now, Merlin wondered if he'd heard any of it. He supposed it didn't matter – he'd get blamed for any tardiness on Arthur's behalf, anyway. At least the prince was mostly dressed, now; all he seemed to be struggling with was his jacket, which Merlin found odd, honestly. The servant could tell it was a new one, because usually the prince would just request his brown leather vest and be done with it. This new jacket, Merlin hadn't laid his eyes on before. It was of rather fine make; colored the Pendragon red with some fancy gold stitching done to hold the buttons in place, it certainly looked like something that Arthur would normally be quite pleased with.

Except it was about two sizes two small.

Biting back a comment about how Arthur should cut back at feasts, Merlin half-grinned and spoke. "Who sent you that?" he asked, wondering why Arthur had bothered so long with the thing that obviously didn't fit.

"Sir Bedivere. Apparently his wife made it."

Merlin nodded, and his gaze went back to the stitch work. "Well, she seems to be a good seamstress."

Arthur gave his servant a flat look, reminding him of the size of the thing.

"Is she?" he asked, before tugging the jacket off rather roughly. Merlin half put his hands out in protest to Arthur tossing around the well-made article like that, but he was a spoiled, arrogant prince and would do what he wanted. "Fetch me my brown vest, would you?" Arthur requested, and Merlin dropped what he was doing at the table to do as requested. He helped Arthur manage his arms into the vest and tied the front of it up for him.

"There you are, sire, ready to go. You're due in the square in five minutes."

Arthur hummed a contemplative noise, his gaze returning to the new jacket that he had discarded on the floor. Merlin's eyes followed his. "Should I do something with that?" he asked, waiting on Arthur's instruction or dismissal.

"I don't care," Arthur said. "It doesn't fit."

"Seems a waste to just throw it out, though," Merlin said, and then the servant caught Arthur looking at him. "What?" he asked.

Arthur shrugged. "You can have it," he decided, heading for the door. "It'd probably fit a twig like you."

"What- really?" Merlin asked, scooping the jacket off the floor to evaluate it for himself. Well, the style certainly wasn't bad, and the color wasn't too garish... Arthur stopped in the doorway, and Merlin looked up to him for his confirmation.

"Are you deaf, Merlin?" the prince intoned, though there was no real bite as much as there was a smile hidden somewhere in Arthur's voice. "Yes. Take it," he said. "You'd need something suitable to wear to the feast tonight, anyways. Don't be late, by the way, someone has to ensure my cup doesn't run dry."

Merlin blinked, struck dumb for a moment. "I- right. Of course, sire. I'll be there."

Later that evening, at the feast, Merlin found himself standing behind Arthur's chair, to his right as per usual with a pitcher of red wine in his hands. The Prince was not talking as animatedly as his father was to their guests, who were seated between them, but he was present for the conversation, nodding where needed and chipping in a few words of his own every once in a while. And so, he was sufficiently distracted enough to not notice that Merlin wasn't wearing his new jacket. The servant got away with it for a good hour, until Arthur's cup was starting to look empty for the third time, and Merlin had to once again weasel his way between Arthur and Camelot's head knight, Leon, to get to it. And that was an awful lot of large man to try and get between. As Merlin wasn't the most graceful person in the world, he bumped into Arthur's shoulder as he leaned to refill the goblet, which in turn caused the prince to look away from the conversation between the visiting noble and his father to Merlin. The small smile that had been on his face as he listened to his father recount one of his favorite battle stories faded as he surprisingly took note of Merlin's attire.

"You're not wearing the jacket," he said, and Merlin was shocked, because not only had the prince noticed, but he seemed… almost disappointed. Merlin cleared his throat a little and offered a short and quiet explanation, as at feasts, servants were meant to be hardly seen and never heard.

"It didn't fit," he said, and Arthur nodded a little.

"I knew it was way too small, for any grown man—"

"Er, no," Merlin said, somewhat embarrassedly. "It's too big." By that point, Arthur's cup was full again and Merlin could retreat back behind Arthur's chair, though he did not miss the incredulous look the prince gave him.

'Well,' Arthur thought. 'I'm going to have to fix that.'