A/N Soooooo, yeah. It popped into my head. It's pretty useless, but fun to write and good practice. I tend to get so caught up in analytical essays that I forget how to write creatively, so it's good to occasionally do a one shot. I might turn it into a big kid story if I have the time and the muse, but really it's just a little snippet and will probably stay that way. I hope you enjoy, and do please leave your thoughts. Like I said, creative writing is my kryptonite, so I'd love some advice on how to make it read more smoothly, and all around be more enjoyable.

Thank you much.

No, I don't own Merlin. Nor do I own the image. I found it via google search an do not take credit for it.

Merlin opened the door to Arthur's chambers hardly a crack, half expecting a shoe to come flying at his head. Or a dagger. Or perhaps a more personal approach: a sword at his neck. Instead, he spied a sliver of Arthur sprawled pensively in his chair, and inched the door wide enough to step hesitantly though.

Arthur sat in his semi-throne of a chair, knee bent up and chin resting heavily upon it, face set contemplative and morose. He did not show any sign of being aware of Merlin, though experience had long since taught the warlock how subtle his hunter's instincts could be.

"Sire," Merlin croaked, voice hoarse with despair, "is there anything you require?"

At this, Arthur's eyes trailed to gaze at Merlin, and his jaw set. As Merlin fidgeted, returning Arthur's stare even while wringing his hands, the silence stretched on, seconds to minutes to stifling tension that had Merlin twitching, until Arthur exhaled harshly through his nose, leaning back and returning an empty gaze to the table in front of him.

Another moment. Merlin thought that perhaps Arthur's reaction to the earlier events of the day was to forget that Merlin had ever existed, and felt a ridiculous amount of relief when Arthur finally spoke.

"When I was bitten by the Questing Beast," Arthur noticed Merlin's flinch, and filed it for later questioning, "I told my father not to worry, that I wasn't going to die." Still, he stared at the table. "I told him that I thought I had someone looking after me, protecting me from harm."

In his peripheral, he watched Merlin glance down guiltily, though a small smile graced his lips, and he could not help but feel his own lips twitching in response, dire situation be damned. Trust Merlin to be both proud and guilty of the same thing.

"He replied that I could very well be right. He told me that on my journey to becoming king, I would need a guardian angel."

Here, Arthur finally turned his head toward Merlin, blue orbs snapping to stare intently at his manservant.

"Are you my guardian angel, Merlin?"

Merlin tensed in surprise. This...was not how he expected this confrontation to go. His thoughts returned briefly to the anticipation of his face meeting a throwing knife, but he smiled wryly at his king, and began to hope. He would still have to suffer an inquisition at Arthur's hands, and the trial in front of the court(for of course Merlin couldn't come out privately. It had to be so very public), but...

"Of course I am."

So yeah, they could deal with the details later.

A/N I told you it had little point. A moment in the lives of Arthur and Merlin. Thank you for reading.

Primary concerns: This was actually twice the length, but I cut it to preserve the tone and impression of the piece. Good call? Also, I'm afraid it may not flow well. Thoughts?