Disclaimer: Merlin does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I actually don't know if I want to make this more than just a one-shot. I feel like there is potential for another chapter, with an actual magic reveal and whatnot, so I'm considering it. I really like writing scenarios completely from Arthur's point of view, to attempt to grasp his utter obliviousness when it comes to Merlin.

Summary: Arthur has a talk with Merlin and his friend reacts quite oddly, if he had to say so himself.

If Arthur was going to be absolutely and utterly honest with himself, he would admit that he was concerned about his manservant. If only Arthur was so far willing to do so. However, since that was far from the case, Arthur would only tell himself that he was annoyed.

At first the king had only been mildly irritated, almost amused. Of course, however, as it progressed, with the lies and the excuses, at an exceedingly alarming rate, Arthur had taken it upon himself to remedy the situation. It was up to Arthur to have a stern speaking with Merlin regarding the manservant's actions.

"Merlin, there is a matter at hand that needs to be discussed," Arthur declared one evening when his manservant had walked in with his dinner tray.

Merlin raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed, as he set the tray down on Arthur's desk.

"Er, sorry I'm late?" Merlin offered, halfheartedly.

A pause, and Arthur tried not to frown. Mostly because Merlin was late. But that wasn't the problem at hand.

"No, not that. Though, it does concern that… Merlin, this is quite a delicate matter," Arthur forced down his irritation, well aware of how important it was to maintain patience.

Merlin frowned now, and Arthur waited for his friend to piece the situation together. It was absolutely and completely crucial for Merlin to be the one to admit he had a problem, and what it was. Arthur had read a book about how these intervention like procedures were to occur.

"Gwen?" Merlin questioned, cocking his head in an almost comical manner.

Arthur took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Merlin could sure be thick sometimes.

When the king spoke, it was in a somewhat restrained and controlled voice.

"Concerning you, Merlin." Merlin looked even more confused.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Arthur decided it'd be best to start over.

"Merlin, I know what's been going on with you, and we need to talk about it before things get worse, even dangerous, for you."

Ah, that seemed to have struck a nerve of some kind. Merlin lost some color in his face, paling considerably and his eyes widened a bit.

"You, uh, what?"

Now this was getting ridiculous. Arthur knew that Merlin knew exactly what he was talking about; there was no point in playing dumb. Maybe Merlin was just too used to playing dumb. Arthur wanted to voice that thought aloud, but felt it'd be a tad tactless.

"Merlin, I'm not playing this game with you. I just wish you'd have come to me earlier."

Merlin was almost ashen by this point, eyes wide and fixed on Arthur's own. Arthur wondered to himself how Merlin's eyes could be so impossibly blue.

"I…" Merlin's expression softened slightly, but there was still some kind of fear underlining his features and Arthur couldn't figure out if Merlin was concerned about his job security. It's not like Arthur was going to fire him for something like this.

Arthur was just worried.

"Listen, Merlin, I need you to be able to trust me on things like this. If you're going to be like this, I can't trust you."

Merlin looked a little desperate now, no longer as scared as much as he looked upset and earnest.

"I wanted to tell you, Arthur, I did. I just, I was afraid of- I just-" Merlin cut himself off, struggling a bit, and Arthur could understand.

It was always hard to admit aloud, especially to oneself, that there was a problem.

"We can get through this, Merlin. I'll even stop having wine offered during dinner, just to help with your temptation."

There was an relatively long silence followed by Arthur's sentence, and Merlin expression went from solemn to completely blank.

"Huh?"

Arthur let the frustration show in his tone, letting his fingers tap loudly against the edge of his tray.

"Your drinking problem, Merlin," Arthur said, stressing his manservant's name.

Merlin looked even more oblivious, and almost offended.

"What on earth are you talking about? I don't have a drinking problem!"

Arthur had thought they'd already passed the denial stage.

"Yes, you do," Arthur responded, frowning a bit at Merlin, who looked even more indignant.

"No, I do not," Merlin said, slowly.

"Yes, you do."

"What makes you think-"

"All the time you spend at the tavern!" Arthur exclaimed, in half a mind to get to his feet and maybe prod Merlin in the chest. "I understand you and Gwaine are close but this is getting ridiculous! Do you think for a moment I believe that those bruises you get are from knocking yourself out with branches and not drunken fights at the tavern? I am not an idiot, Merlin, so do not treat me like one."

Merlin had gone from looking affronted to just blank, lips parted a bit as he watched Arthur speak.

"…The tavern."

"Yes, the tavern, you fool."

"All the time I spend at the tavern," Merlin deadpanned, blinking once.

"Yes, all the time you spend at the tavern! And the fistfights you have been getting into – do not deny it, Merlin."

"Fistfights at the tavern," Merlin echoed, dully.

"Yes, fistfights and drinking all night and spending all your time there when you should be tending to me, or even Gaius, Merlin. This is getting ridiculous and it is very irresponsible of you. Not to mention entirely improper of the King's personal manservant to be a drunkard."

There. He had said it.

Merlin continued to stare at Arthur.

"…A drunkard," Merlin repeated, blinking again.

Arthur nodded, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back a bit in his chair.

After a moment of Arthur meeting Merlin's gaze steadily, the manservant seemed to slowly come to himself, straightening a bit.

"That's what this is about? My, er, time at the tavern? That's all it is?" Merlin asked, as though it was merely a triviality that Arthur's best friend was heading down a dark path that Arthur had lost many noble knights to.

"That is not all, Merlin. This is not to be taken lightly. You can't know where you shall end up, and what if you pick the wrong fight with the wrong bloke? You could get seriously hurt, Merlin."

Merlin let out a dry laugh, as if the current subject matter was almost amusing to him.

"You're upset because you think I am a drunkard," Merlin stated, in a voice bubbling with what seemed almost like hysterical laughter.

Arthur wondered if maybe Merlin was drunk as they spoke. He simply could not have this.

"I know you're a drunkard, Merlin. I have enough proof and I know enough. This has gotten out of hand and it must be resolved."

Merlin ran a hand over his face.

"Yes, sire," Merlin responded, and Arthur felt a rush of relief come from within.

"Really? No more nights spent at the tavern?" Arthur leaned forward, trying to keep the eagerness from his tone or show in his expression. See, anything was possible when you were king. "And more time spent accordingly, with polishing my armor and washing my boots?"

Merlin suddenly looked very tired and Arthur wondered, offhandedly, if maybe he should've left that latter statement out.

"Yes, sire," said Merlin.

Huh.

Merlin sounded quiet, resigned, and Arthur felt as if he'd missed something very important during their little altercation.

Arthur eyed his friend almost warily, wondering if maybe his manner of expressing concerned had been misconstrued.

"This is for your own good, Merlin," Arthur said, finally getting to his feet. Merlin gave a jerky nod, his gaze fixed on the corner of Arthur's desk.

Sighing a bit, and loudly, Arthur walked over to his manservant's side, dropping his hand to clap onto Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin nearly started, snapping his gaze up to Arthur's own.

"Er, yes, sire."

"I only mean well, Merlin. Because I care." Arthur paused. "Not that I have to justify my reasoning to you," he added, hastily.

Merlin looked at Arthur a little skeptically.

"Of course." Merlin's voice had taken on a dry tone.

"I don't want to lose you, Merlin. I know one too many who I've lost to good wine and matches in a tavern. Gwaine can take care of himself, but you, Merlin-" and here, Merlin gave Arthur a very sharp look that almost made the king want to backtrack, but since he was king, well, you know, "You, I'm not so sure about."

"Right, sire."

Arthur was getting sick of Merlin's dry usage of the word 'sire'.

"Well, that's all I wanted to discuss," Arthur said, rather lamely. His hand was still on Merlin's shoulder and the manservant blinked at him.

"Thank you for your concern, sire."

Arthur bristled a tad.

"Is something wrong?" He removed his hand from his friend, stepping back.

"No, sire." Like hell. "May I be excused now, sire?" Merlin mimicked Arthur's actions, stepping back as well.

Arthur frowned a bit and then glanced at his dinner tray.

"Well, I suppose." Arthur's eyes widened and he looked back at Merlin, lips parting in a question. "Where-"

"Not the tavern, sire. You can check with Gaius if need be."

Yeah, Arthur had definitely missed something.

"Are you alright, Merlin? You know I only-"

"Meant well, yes, sire. I know." Merlin hesitated, and Arthur saw it in the way Merlin's eyes flickered across the room, the way it tended to when the other wanted to say something. Arthur refrained from telling the other to 'spit it out', not when Merlin was in such a delicate state of mind.

"You may be excused, then."

Another pause and Merlin's eyes met with Arthur's own once more. Arthur was taken aback at the intensity of Merlin's stare, the utter contemplation in them.

"I will be back to take away your tray, sire." Merlin turned on his heel, heading over to the door, and Arthur felt lost.

Something had gone relatively wrong during their little discussion and Arthur couldn't figure out what it was.

Staring confusedly at the back of his friend, Arthur watched as Merlin opened the door and then stood at the doorway, not looking over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin said, quietly and with more resignation than words of such matter should be associated with.

Arthur nodded despite Merlin not seeing and it didn't seem that the manservant needed any acknowledgement of his words, stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Arthur stood in front of his desk for quite some time after that, dinner going cold, trying to assess as to whether or not that had been a gain or a loss.

It should have felt like a win, surely, but it felt as though Arthur had lost something instead.

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