Miniature Manatee

Uther wasn’t entirely sure why he thought asking the servant was a good idea.

Past patterns have shown the boy was unreliable, ridiculously dull, and incredibly clumsy. It was a miracle he had a job still at all. Uther was rather impressed with his son’s patience on the matter. However, despite the aforementioned shortcomings, Uther had still asked. He just... had to ask.

“Where’s Arthur?”

He shouldn’t have asked. Not when the servant in question was covered head-to-toe in soot with leaves in his hair and a questionable green substance coating his jacket. Normally, Uther might have inquired as to why this child thought it prudent to walk around in his castle in such a state... but given the time limit he was currently under, decided to put that on hold.

There was a second where Uther thought he might have to ask again since the boy stopped in his tracks completely, turning slowly to look at Uther with blank eyes.

“Probably dying again,” He said, completely deadpan. “I’m on my way to fix that now though. He’ll be ready for the feast.” He said and with that, spun around to march back down the hall.

Uther hadn’t been sure what he had been expecting. The boy really was hit in the head too often, wasn’t he? A shame. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose before also turning in the direction the servant had gone. The feast was in an hour and while Uther had no idea where his son actually was, there was still a smidge of hope that the damned fool might lead him to Arthur.

This hope was immediately dashed when he found himself outside of empty room. Well, empty aside from the two servants. The boy... Merlin, right? Uther was pretty sure his name was Merlin. Merlin walked over to where the other was wringing out a cloth and without a second of hesitation pushed the other back.

Uther froze - momentarily stunned as he tried to consider his next course of action. He wasn’t really one to go about breaking up peasant fights, but the boy really was being a bit.... uh, aggressive. So aggressive, in fact, he had pulled a knife from seemingly nowhere and held it close to the other servant’s throat.

“Where is it?” He asked darkly and grabbed the servant’s ear, “Tell me or so help whatever God you believe in because I will cut you to pieces.” He warned.

Right. Uther should intervene. He was just about to order the idiot to release him when the servant gave a snide laugh.

“Oh?” He asked, licking his lips as he squirmed under Merlin’s grasp, “It appears to be working then, is it? Alined was worried the enchantment wouldn’t hold.” He clicked his tongue and gave a sigh of feigned sympathy. “I do wish I could help you but... alas. I have no idea where the locket is.”

Uther should not intervene. Partly because his brain felt as though it had stopped working and partly because (as it turns out) the serving boy wasn’t as off-base as Uther had foreseen. Merlin was muttering something under his breath, a hint of warning in his voice when Uther decided his help would actually be needed if an enchantment was involved.

“Cut off a finger,” He advised, crossing his arms over his chest, “That will get him to talk.”

Merlin paused to glance over his shoulder as the other servant squeaked in alarm.

“Hi,” Merlin greeted and turned back to the man, “Which finger?” He asked and the servant’s eyes widened. “Sorry, but I did receive a direct order from the king-”

“Under the prince’s bed!” He shouted and Merlin narrowed his eyes, “I swear. It is. It is, please. Don’t-” He spluttered out as Merlin stepped back and watched as the servant (was he even a servant? Uther would have to look into that) fell to the floor in a blubbering mess. Slowly, Merlin turned to look at Uther with a tilted head.

“Well?” Uther asked with slightly raised arms, “Go on. The feast is in an hour.”

There was a pause in which Uther could see the consideration morphing into wariness at Uther’s appearance, but it was pushed away a second later. He wasn’t entirely for sure what the next course of action was, but admittedly Uther was a little curious as to how this gangly, untrained child planned to handle the situation.

“Alright,” he decided and left the room. Uther followed, calling for guards to arrest the man still wailing on the floor as he stalked down the hallway. After a rather awkward trek into Arthur’s chambers Uther watched as Merlin knelt on the floor.

“You know,” Uther commented, “Maybe if you did your job better you might have noticed that sooner.” He said. Merlin straightened up with a silver locket in hand to glower back at him. Uther wasn’t sure he had ever been glared out so intensely by someone who wasn’t about to be executed. Before he could reprimand him on the matter, Merlin got up and slammed the locket on the table.

“If I was focused only on cleaning Arthur’s chambers then he would have died months ago.” He said as he opened one of Arthur’s chests to peer inside. Uther sniffed.

“You should have reported this incident to the knights. It is their job. Not yours.” He pointed out, “What on Earth made you think my son’s safety is your concern?”

“When you hired me for saving his life.”

...alright, even Uther had to admit that was a solid argument.

“And what do you know of breaking enchantments?” Uther asked, quickly changing the subjects, “Magic is not a toy to be tapered with. We need-”

“Would you mind holding this toad for me?” Merlin asked and scooped up a grayish glob of a creature and dumping it into his hands. Uther was about to start shouting in outrage when a strange, overwhelming realization fell over him.

“This... this toad... it... is it...?” He began, lifting the toad up so it was eye level with him. Merlin grimaced.

“I believe so.” He said and turned back to the locket on the table as Uther tried (and failed) to comprehend that Alined had somehow turned his son into an amphibian. Merlin was kneeling by the table, muttering something lowly with his back turned before standing up with a satisfied nod... and slamming one of Arthur’s maces onto the table. “Ah... damnit.” He said when he missed (leaving an impressive scratch in Arthur’s table) and hit it again.

This time the locket shattered. Uther turned back to the toad only for the toad to simply croak at him. Merlin blinked and tilted his head with his brows furrowed. From the other side of the room there was a crash and some loud screeches.

Neither moved.

“I think I may have handed you the wrong toad.” Merlin finally said. Uther stared.

“And just how many toads are typically in my son’s room?” He asked. Merlin shrugged. “You are truly terrible at your job,” he said, half in awe and half in... well. Actually. No, it was in complete awe. The boy gave a slight gesture towards the other room.

“Toads aren’t generally at the top of my priority list.” He said flatly. Uther didn’t know what to say to that so he settled for simply tossing the toad at him and marching to the connecting room to find Arthur looking around wildly.

“I... where...?” He spluttered and blinked rapidly, “F-father?” He managed and  stood up to grab his shoulder in baffled confusion. “I... there... there was a bird.” He whispered, “I don’t know what happened.”

Uther wasn’t really sure what to tell him. Luckily, he was saved by Merlin leaning against the wall and clearing his throat.

“Sounds like a bizarre dream,” He mused, “Gaius said that sometimes happens when you have a high fever. Delusions and what not.” He explained. Arthur stared blankly at him.

“I was... sick?” He said finally and shook his head, “But... I felt fine and... I was in the armory, wasn’t I?” He asked, looking around the room again. Merlin clicked his tongue.

“Yeah... you fainted. I had to carry you up here.” He said. Arthur stared at him. “What? I keep telling you I’m strong.” He smiled and Uther wondered exactly how many times Arthur had been told that (incredibly obvious) lie. He had no proof, but Uther was fairly certain a breeze just might kill this commoner. Surely he would fold like a leaf under Arthur’s weight.

“I... see...” Arthur said and looked down at his hands, “A strange dream indeed.” He repeated and ran a hand over his face, “I should get ready for the feast.” He said finally. Merlin nodded.

“I’ll get your clothes-” He said and was silenced by Uther walking over to grab his arm and steer him away.

“A word,” He said over his shoulder to where Arthur was watching them with growing confusion, “...what was that about a bird?” He whispered and Merlin grimaced.

“Ah, well, that was just... you know. Some fun for me.” He said. Uther squeezed his arm harder, “Listen, if he didn’t throw things at me so often I wouldn’t feel the need to reciprocate with childish behavior.” He said.

Dear God. Dear God. Dear God.

“Do you not plan on telling him the truth?” He snapped back. Merlin wrinkled his nose.

“Uh... no. I don’t think he would take well to finding out. Do you think we should?” He asked. There was a pause. While Uther was absolutely going to burn the prisoner and potentially (no, definitely) wage war against Alined... there was no need for Arthur to know... all the facts. After all, he wasn’t sure how the people would take to learning their prince had been chased around by a bird as a toad.

“Not a word.” He finally said and let go of him. As he spun away there was a muttered ‘you’re welcome’ under his breath, but Uther ignored it. Instead he walked over to where Arthur was eyeing the mace on the ground with suspicion.

“Father,” He greeted as Uther placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, “I’m sorry if I haven’t been present during these negotiations-”

“It is of no concern,” Uther said solemnly and Arthur’s brows raised slightly, “I doubt any of your diplomatic skills would have saved us from Alined’s vices.” He said. A hint of a smile played at Arthur’s lips as he nodded. “I do have... one request for you though. Can I trust you to not ask questions on this matter?” He asked. Arthur tilted his head.

“Of course, what is it you need?” He asked. Uther smiled. He didn’t miss the earnest tone lying underneath the words. A habit Uther had tried to iron out of him since a child, but even after years it still occasionally peeked out.

“That servant of yours...” He began. Arthur’s shoulders tensed under his hand. “Never sack him,” Uther said and let go to lightly clap the side of his arms.

“Um, I... if that is your wish?”

“And for the love of Camelot, Arthur,” he continued, “Stop throwing things at the boy.”

“Wh-? I never meant him any harm!” Arthur spluttered out, looking equal parts horrified and bewildered. “Was he injured? I swear that was never my intention-”

“No, no. He’s fine,” Uther scoffed, “And remember, no questions. Perhaps in many years you will understand why.”

It sounded foreboding and stoic, sure. In truth, Uther simply was trying to keep his son from encountering anymore birds. He got the feeling that this situation was no isolated incident. He had known the serving boy had been an ally against magic, of course... perhaps Uther had underestimated just how great of an ally he could be.