General Disclaimer of Everything: I own nothing.

After another long day of washing socks, mopping floors, foiling Morgana's plans, cleaning armor, decoding Dragon riddles, collecting herbs, polishing boots, saving Arthur, and mucking out stables, Merlin felt tired. Very tired. So it was maybe understandable that he was annoyed when the alarm bells went off at midnight.

He staggered out of bed, wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and peered out the door; grumbling when he saw the commotion. Servants panicked and knights rushed towards the fight. The enemy was everywhere. Merlin tripped up a couple of the enemy soldiers as he worked his way to the throne room. These things somehow always ended in the throne room. He effortlessly dodged falling walls and flying rocks, fireballs and flailing swords. He was too tired to act clumsy. Wait, fireballs? Merlin looked up to see a sorcerer with flashing gold eyes lob another orb at one of the kitchen maids. Merlin pushed her out of the way and with a gentle shove of his magic made sure that the sorcerer fell to the ground. Five stories down. After breaking some glass. Amanda was a nice girl. Merlin was ticked off that Camelot was being attacked again. And that innocent people were getting hurt, again. Merlin spotted an abandoned chicken sandwich on a nearby table. Someone's interrupted midnight snack had miraculously not been trampled during the attack. He bent down and picked it up, dodging a swinging sword at the same time. Now that the soldier was off balance Merlin stuck out his foot, tripping him and sending him tumbling down the stairs.

Merlin was nearing the center of the commotion now. Several of Camelot's knights had been fighting to protect the throne room where the royal court was being held. Sir Leon was the only one left now. His comrades, several of the nameless and faceless knights that no one ever seems to miss, lay unmoving at his feet. He was backed into a corner, holding off four men. Merlin was certain at this point that Leon was immortal. Sir Leon had escaped more situations than Arthur and he had done it without the help of a destiny plagued warlock. Still, the situation looked a little desperate so he grabbed a sword from one of the fallen knights and gave Leon a hand. He stabbed two of the soldiers in quick succession. Leon finished his two and turned to thank his rescuer. He was shocked to see Merlin standing there, bloody sword in one hand and a chicken sandwich in the other, looking as unruffled as if he had come from a stroll in the garden.

"Merlin?" Leon gasped. He was panting heavily and blood dripped from his wounded leg.

"Arthur has been giving me private lessons for a couple of years now." Merlin said ruefully, by way of explanation. Leon winced. Two years of personal undivided attention from the king and anyone would have picked up the skills. If Arthur hadn't killed them first.

"You're wounded," Merlin said, sounding concerned, "you should wait here."

"It's just a scratch," Leon argued. He took a step forward, and found his leg give out under him. Merlin nodded knowingly.

"Don't worry about Arthur," Merlin told him, "I'll look after him. You just keep out of trouble." Leon looked into Merlin's serious face. There was an inner strength there. Something that Leon hadn't seen before. This wasn't the clumsy, foolish manservant. This was something else, something to be reckoned with. Leon found himself believing that Merlin could and would protect his king from anything. Merlin turned and stormed away, only pausing to drop the sword and pick up his blanket before he rounded the corner.

Leon was injured. And what was that on his blanket? Was that blood? Yes, yes it was. Great, something else to add to the to-do list. Now he was angry. With a sweep of Merlin's hand, the soldiers guarding the door crashed into the wall. He didn't feel the least bit guilty when they didn't get up again.

Merlin paused. He took a bite of his sandwich and thought about maybe putting on a disguise of some sort. If he just stormed in, Arthur and the knights would find out about his magic. The game would be up. Merlin decided that he was too tired to care. Arthur would have to find out about the magic eventually and maybe it would go over better if Merlin was saving his butt, again, when he found out. This would bring trouble but Merlin knew how to deal with trouble. The time for hiding was over.

Arthur tried to not go cross-eyed as he stared at the tip of the knife held level with his eyes. His Knights were disarmed and bound; glaring daggers at their captors. His Queen lay knocked out, motionless next to the throne. His uncle was a traitor. His sister stood before him, holding his crown, gloating. Arthur couldn't imagine the situation being worse.

Then the doors flew open and Merlin strode into the room. Armed and armored with a half-eaten sandwich and a rumpled blanket. Arthur groaned. Merlin who was a clumsy idiot that couldn't hold a sword right. Merlin who had taken Morgana's betrayal the hardest, moping for weeks. Merlin who was terrified of magic, always glancing away nervously whenever it was mentioned. Merlin, the brave fool who would gladly give his life for Arthur. But he was only going to get himself killed. Gawain, just to Arthur's right, moved suddenly, struggling against the ropes and trying to reach his best friend. Gaius, at his left, glanced at him worriedly. Lancelot, at his back, just sighed.

"Morgana," Merlin growled. Arthur shivered as those hate filled eyes turned away from him and towards his manservant. Morgana laughed.

Merlin threw the doors open with a gust of wind and stormed into the throne room. He looked and saw the predicament that his friends were now in.

"Morgana," he growled. The witch laughed.

"You should have stayed away, Merlin." She told him, "You will feel pain. You will beg for death before I am through with you." Merlin cut her off with a wave of the half eaten sandwich.

"Enough," He said viciously, "I don't want to hear your prissy little speech about taking Camelot, killing Arthur, bringing back magic, getting revenge, and bla bla bla. You never have anything original to say. No matter how many times we go over this, it won't change." The court was stunned.

"You come, or one of your minions, or some revenge seeking sorcerer, or heck, even an immortal monster or twenty. You try to cause trouble. You run into me. You fail. You'd think the word would spread." Merlin ranted, "But noooooo, you keep coming, causing trouble in the middle of the night and interrupting my sleep!"

"Your sleep?" Agravaine asked, "That is what you are so upset about? Not that your friends are tied up. Not that your King is about to die. That your sleep was interrupted? You are no doubt the laz-"

"No," Merlin cut him off with another gesture. Agravaine clutched his throat, as if his voice had suddenly stopped working.

"You don't have the right. I do the work of three men. If I'm lucky, if there are no attacks, no plagues, no idiot 'evil' sorcerers keeping me up, I get five hours of sleep a night. Five." Arthur winced. He knew that he sometimes kept Merlin late, but he hadn't realized it was that bad.

"Do you think I sit around doing nothing? I haven't had a chance to sit around and do nothing since the day I arrived in Camelot. I'm too busy running around after Arthur, 'Do this, Merlin!' 'Do that, Merlin!' 'Clean my socks, Merlin!' 'Muck the stables, Merlin!', and when I'm not running around after Arthur, I'm doing chores for Gaius, and when I'm not doing that I'm fulfilling my 'destiny'. Do you know how many times I've saved Arthur's life? I've lost count. Do I get any thanks? No. I have fought griffins, witches, bandits, and monsters. I have been punched, poisoned, pummeled, and pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to hide who I really am because if anyone finds out, I will be executed. Sometimes I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions I don't know which way to turn!" The knights were staring, slack jawed. Who knew that clumsy, insolent, cheerful Merlin had been bottling up so much.

"No more," Merlin shook his head, "I'm through with you and your stupid plots, Morgana. I'm tired of you always trying to kill Arthur. You know, every time you show up, you re-convince him that magic is evil and you undo months of my work."

"You're not Merlin," Morgana accused, "You couldn't be. Who are you really?" Merlin let out a low, hollow laugh.

"I am Merlin," he told her, "But I am so much more. You know the prophecies. I am the guardian of Camelot. I am the conqueror of life and death. I am both the first and last of my kind. The Druids bow before me."

"My destiny and my doom," Morgana breathed, "Emrys." Arthur was startled to see that his sister was afraid. Didn't she realize that Merlin was bluffing? There was no way that Merlin was a sorcerer.

"Will you submit?" Merlin asked, "Will you leave Camelot for good, and let me go back to bed?"

"I will never submit," Morgana cried, "Not to you!"

"So be it. But you have brought this upon yourself." Merlin jabbed his sandwich at Morgana, and his blue eyes flashed with gold. A flurry of sparks surrounded her and she was obscured by a cloud of mist. When it faded away, the witch was gone. A little silver fish wiggled on the floor, gasping. Merlin picked it up and dropped it in a pitcher of water. *

"Now, Morgana," Merlin told the fish, "You can't say I didn't give you fair warning."

Merlin really was a sorcerer. Merlin had powerful magic. His manservant, his supposed friend. The betrayal hurt more than Arthur wanted to admit. ** All this time, Merlin had been hiding, lying, plotting. He admitted as much. "Every time you show up… … you undo months of my work."

Merlin looked at them all. He laughed maniacally. "There is nothing you can do to stop me!" He proclaimed. Arthur knew that Merlin was right. The whole court of Camelot sat there, bound, unable to move. They were at Merlin's mercy; the mercy of a sorcerer. Merlin could do absolutely anything. Arthur's blood ran cold at the thought.

"I can go back to bed now and there is nothing that anyone can do to stop me from sleeping as long as I want to!"

Wait, what?

"Merlin," Lancelot ventured cautiously. Merlin paused.

"Yes?"

"Do you … think you could untie us?"

"I suppose so," Merlin said, "But I need something in return. I need a promise from the King." Arthur was about to protest that he did NOT make deals with sorcerers. Morgana le Fish stared at Arthur with beady eyes. Arthur swallowed, hard.

"Yes," Arthur sounded broken, "Anything you want, Merlin."

"Anything at all, Arthur?" Merlin's smile widened.

"A-an-anything. You have my word." The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. Everyone waited with bated breath to see what the sorcerer wanted. Lancelot had known about the magic, but dang, Merlin was scary right now. Gaius was afraid for a different reason. His eyes stayed glued to Arthur's face, watching his every move. Gawain was busy contemplating the new possibilities that a magical best friend provided. The good with the bad.

"I want… … and remember, Arthur, you gave your word… … I want the day off."

Merlin snapped his fingers and the ropes all dissolved. The court watched, stunned by Merlin for the third time that day, as the manservant slouched back to bed.

Sir Percival turned to Gaius. "You have to wake up that every morning? You deserve a medal."

* The name Morgana means 'from the sea' so I thought this was fitting. Besides, don't you think that Morgana le Fish is puny?

** What do you expect? Arthur is an idiot after all. It will take a while for it to sink in.