A/N: This is based on a few things but mainly – how Merlin got better at a sword.

Sort of set between Seasons 3 & 4.

And don't worry, I'm updating Other Version as we... Speak? Read? Write?… This was just a plot bunny that was jumping around annoyingly.

A Sorcerers Hand

"Again Merlin!"

The shout Arthur yelled across the training field made the manservant roll his eyes and try lunging for the training dummy again, but it only came out crooked and lopsided and the attack had no real strength behind it. "Stop hitting the dummy like a girl!"

Merlin turned and glared at Arthur. "I'm trying here!"

"Try harder, you idiot!"

Muttering under his breath about all the different types of toads he'd like to turn Arthur into one day, Merlin lunged with the sword again but it made no difference. His aim was askew and he couldn't control the sword properly. It kept flying all over the place.

Arthur stormed over and glared, "How the hell are you supposed to be the manservant to the Prince Regent of Camelot if you can't bloody use a sword!"

Merlin wanted to point out he was good at magic and had saved Arthur's life with it many times, but bit his tongue. "Don't know sire. I'll just run and hide behind a tree like I always do, then." He went to put away the swords but Arthur shoved him back in front of the dummy.

"No. You shan't. Try again." If Arthur was being honest with himself, a large part of what he was doing had to do with his constant fear that Merlin was always going to be injured whenever he was fighting and had no way of defending himself. He couldn't go and commission him armour because how the hell would that look?

But he could teach him how to defend himself.

But Merlin's skill was… Arthur didn't think horrendous began to cover it. His footwork was off and his aim… He managed to hit things but many of Arthur's squires could best him and some of them were ten. He wanted to smack his head and give up, but he was stubborn and a Pendragon and Pendragon's didn't give up.

"Why are you so hopeless Merlin?" Arthur snapped and it seemed, it was the final straw for his manservant.

"You know what? I have been injured once, scratched twice and kidnapped… that doesn't matter how many times." Merlin shouted at Arthur. "I think after four years of being your manservant, I'm doing pretty well for myself. In fact, I'm the longest manservant you've bloody well ever had and that must be a miracle somehow on my part. So seriously, I don't need all of this." He threw down the sword, embedding it in the grass and yanked a parchment from his shirt. "Now I have work to do for Gaius. He doesn't yell at me and make me feel like an idiot… all the time."

He turned and stormed off, heading out towards Darkling Forest and Arthur watched him storm off, not even stumbling as he went.

He sighed and felt bad for a moment, then ordered a servant passing by to clean up all the training equipment. He picked up Merlin's sword, planning to hand it to him in a peace offering, and went to… ugh… hem… um… *cough*… apologise… to his manservant, and followed him to where he normally picked herbs from.

He found Merlin standing next to a tree, scraping off some bark, muttering angrily as he did so. He either didn't notice Arthur's approach or did and ignored it. He had the parchment in his right hand, steadying it against the tree as his left hand used a knife to scrape away at the bark. "What are you collecting?"

Merlin turned and spotted Arthur and made a face. He turned back to the tree and kept scraping. "Oak bark. Its smoke has healing properties."

"Huh." Arthur leant against the closest tree. "Never knew."

"That's because you're an uneducated dollop-head."

"I'm better educated than you." Arthur snorted.

"Hmm. Really?" Merlin pointedly glared at him. "You didn't know this was an oak tree until I told you, did you?"

Arthur shrugged. "All trees are the same."

"Yep. Thought so." Merlin was collecting a whole fragment of bark, scraping around the corners and dislodging the top half of the piece.

After watching him work quite astutely, skinning the tree of its top layer like one would an animal, Arthur saw something that his manservant was relatively good at and wondered how he accomplished so much yet still couldn't swing a sword. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings." Arthur said, looking anywhere but Merlin.

The younger man stopped and turned to look at Arthur, a frown on his face. "What did you say?"

"I said… look, don't make me repeat it." The word 'sorry' felt like one of Gaius' potions in his mouth. "Just accept that I said it and come back and train."

"What, so you can yell at me?" Merlin rolled his eyes. "I get quite enough of that just working normally, thank you very much."

"Merlin." Arthur grumbled.

"I have to collect these things for Gaius before sunset anyway." Merlin said, waving the list around. "So… no." He turned back to his delicate work and Arthur, being fed up, snatched the parchment away from Merlin and tried reading it.

"Did Gaius write this with his foot?" Arthur asked, glaring at the horrible handwriting. "Gar-lic f-f-flower?" he tried to sound out the word, written in horrifyingly lopsided writing. "It looks like a blind monk tried to use a quill."

"Actually…" Merlin snatched the parchment back. "That would be my handwriting you're offending."

Arthur balked but saw the angry look on Merlin's face and quickly schooled his features. "Yes. Well… It's very… modern of you."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I know my writing is atrocious. Gaius calls it chicken scratch. I can't help it. I've sat and practiced for hours. That's as neat as I can get it." He started to peel back the bark and it came off in a large parchment sized chunk. He then lodged the knife back into the side of the bark to slowly cut away the underneath.

Arthur frowned and noticed Merlin was holding the knife with his left hand. He'd seen it before but this time it occurred to him what it meant. "Which hand do you hold your sword with?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged and answered, "My right… why?"

"Then why are you holding your knife with your left?"

Merlin looked down at his hand and then back at Arthur and shrugged. "I don't know really… I think I was just taught to do it like this."

"No… I've seen Gaius rip away bark. He does it with his right." Arthur spoke slowly as if talking to a child. "You write with your right hand too?"

"I'm right handed."

Arthur smacked his head and nodded for Merlin to finish what he was doing. He snapped off the last piece of the bark and slid it into his satchel then watched as Arthur beckoned him over to a small clearing. "Do something quickly." Arthur said and Merlin sighed, willing to comply if only to hurry things along. "Stand perfect still, both your feet together. Good. Now up straight."

Merlin did as he was told, feet stuck together by the ankle. "Now when I say run, bolt and when I say stop, come back to that exact same position. Alright?" Merlin frowned but agreed. "Now… run." Arthur ordered and Merlin lunged forward but a second later, Arthur called out, "Stop." With a slightly annoyed expression he stopped and straightened up, ankles glue together. "Alright… run. Stop." Merlin only got one foot forward before he was forced to bring his feet back together. "Run. Stop… Run. Stop." Merlin scowled.

"I knew it." Arthur grinned, noticing each time he ran, Merlin fell on his left leg first. He still had Merlin's sword from earlier in his hand and passed it over, pommel first to his manservant. "I don't have time for this." Merlin argued but Arthur shoved the sword closer to him.

"Humour me for one more minute." he waited and with a growl, Merlin took the sword in his right hand and stood in the stance he'd been taught. Arthur walked forward and switched the sword from Merlin's right hand to his left and rearranged his feet accordingly.

"Arthur…?" Merlin said, more than a little annoyed. "What are you…?" Arthur withdrew his own sword and stood across from him.

"Try and hit me now."

"But-"

"Just do it. I won't let you hurt me."

Merlin looked down at the unfamiliar grip in his hands but at the same time as being strange, it fit. He winced at the way the sword was comfortable in his hands and lunged forward in the first striking position. Arthur easily deflected it, but there was strength and aim in Merlin's grip. "Good." Arthur grinned. "Again."

The two men sparred for some of the afternoon, until the sun started setting and things got dark. "You're actually a descent swordsman, Merlin." Arthur laughed, beads of sweat on his forehead and Merlin stared at his hands, a little stunned and proud of himself. "You're just left handed."

At those words, Merlin dropped the sword like it burnt and flinched away. Arthur immediately frowned and went over to Merlin but he pulled away before he could put his hand on his shoulder. "You're left handed, Merlin. Not dying."

Merlin shook his head. "You don't understand…"

"No. No I don't." Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. "Explain it."

"I'm right-handed, Arthur… Just. Leave it at that." He went to collect the sword but Arthur put his foot on top of it to stop him.

"No you're not." he said, a little angrily. "How have I upset you now? I helped you figure out why your handwriting is so appalling and your swordsmanship is even worse. I've even given you an advantage. Rarely is anyone used to fighting a left-handed swordsman and they'll be expecting attacks from the wrong side. I swear, you're such a girl."

"During the Great Purge, people were suspected of magic if they were left handed." Merlin snapped. Arthur reeled back, surprised by the sudden change of attitude. "More magic users are left handed than right, non-magic users the opposite. There were people from my village… bounty hunters came, looking to make money from Camelot and the Purge… if they were left handed they were taken on the suspicion for having magic and the King paid a handsome reward. Will and I were taught not to use our left hand's for anything so I learnt with my right."

Merlin looked up at Arthur, his eyes pleading with him somewhat. "I'm not left handed."

The Prince took a hesitant step towards Merlin who looked like a frightened rabbit. He took another step when Merlin's shoulders relaxed then picked up the sword and lodged it straight into Merlin's left hand. "I haven't heard of anyone being executed for being left handed. Ever. A few of the knights are left-handed and none of them are on the pyre. I know Ealdor is different and I'm… I'm sure after my father ordered the deaths of those villagers, despite the lack of evidence, but I swear that won't be you.

"If you need to defend yourself against anyone, I want you to be prepared and I don't care what hand you use. If I ever find out you were hurt because you tried to use your right-handed grip, I'll kill you myself. Do you understand?"

Merlin smiled a little and nodded, looking down at the sword. "Gaius is going to kill me first though. I have none of his herbs."

Arthur chuckled and pulled Merlin into a headlock, dragging him along. "Don't worry. I'll make up some story about chores I gave you."

A/N: I know, I know… Merlin is right handed, but I was inspired the other day. My kid-cousin lives with me and I'm sort of his pseudo-parent and I was trying to do the right thing and help him with his homework. His handwriting was shocking so and me, (don't sue me, I'm nineteen looking after a nine year old) decided to tell him just how horrible it was. He cried, and then I realised he was holding his pencil all wrong and it kept slipping from him.

That was how we made the discovery, my cousin is left-handed and he only wrote with his right hand because that was what he was taught to do.

Nowadays, no one really cares about whether you're a righty or a lefty, but I know that in ancient myths, Left-Handed people were suspected of magic and sorcery so double that with Uther and the Great Purge… tada! Plot bunny.

Review please!

Much love,

Ithoughtslashmeanthorror.