Chapter One

A/N: Warning: everyone is salty! There is literally so much sass and vinegar going on! You have been warned. XD

PS, for my HTTYD readers, I wrote this story to try and get back into the groove of things. Enraptured might go on hiatus for a while since I seem to be having some awful writers block for it (SO SORRY) but if any of you like Merlin...well...here you go 3

A cool, silvery light trickles in through the wooden shutters over the windows in court physician's quarters, casting bluish shadows over the work bench and short, wood table. In one of the small back rooms, the physician's young ward is sprawled face-down on his bed, mouth slightly ajar, arm dangling over the side with fingers brushing the floor. In his sleep, he mumbles softly in a strange, foreign language and all around him cupboard drawers sway open and closed, papers flutter through the air, clothes drag along the floor, all of which seeming to oblige to whatever incantations the snoozing sorcerer is chanting.

This is something Gaius has pestered him about endlessly, fretting and worrying that someone will barge in on him in his sleep and find things floating in the air around him. But Merlin has always pointed out that no one ever has and probably never will. Besides, he always reasons, he doesn't always sleep-chant. Only once, maybe twice a week...

However, as luck would have it, it's one of these supposedly 'rare' days that their front door is thrown open and an apparently anxious Prince Arthur comes barging in. There's an irritated scowl on the young prince's face as he stomps straight through the main room toward the door he knows hides his servant's bed.

"Oh Merlin!" Arthur grumbles not bothering to knock. Instead, he simply lifts his foot and quite literally kicks the door open. It slams against the wall on the inside of Merlin's room, jerking the young sorcerer awake so that the papers fall to the ground and the clothes stop dragging, but before the prince manages to get a look inside the dark chamber, Gaius comes hurrying in.

"Oh! Prince Arthur!" He gasps a bit breathlessly. "I was not expecting you, Sire." Even as he speaks the physician is taking nervous glances past his ward's master into Merlin's room, where the young man is now stirring tiredly, stumbling out of bed.

"Ah, yes. I do apologize, Gaius, for the intrusion... However, it would seem my lazy manservant has neglected to remember that I asked him to be in my chamber by first light." Arthur turns back to Merlin, who is yawning and rubbing his eyes, black hair stuck up on one side of his head. "Isn't that right, clotpole?" He growls in annoyance.

"That's still my word..." Merlin mumbles tiredly. "And, erm, sorry Arthur. I may have overslept..."

Arthur glares at him for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "Honestly, is there anything you're good at?"

Merlin has to fight the knowing smile that threatens to touch his lips and instead, he shrugs weakly. "Let me get back to you on that..."

Planting his hands on his hips, Arthur rolls his eyes and grumbles, "That's what I thought." He watches for a moment as Merlin sits down on a stool by the table and stretches his arms over his head, noticing with some mixed guilt and satisfaction that the bruise he got from their last hunting trip is still there on his shoulder. "You know, Merlin, any other prince might have you fired or even put in the stocks for neglecting your duties as you so often do."

"Then it's a good thing I work for you instead." He replies without missing a beat. Yawning again.

Arthur's eyebrow arcs upward and he folds his arms over his chest, staring in disbelief at the total lack of respect being shown to him. In a way, that's the reason he values Merlin so greatly as a more than just a servant, why he so often seeks his council and advice. Because, for whatever reason, the young man seems to have no care for the possible reprocutions of speaking his mind in front of the future king. On the other hand...

With a snarl, the prince picks up a spoon from the table and chucks it at Merlin's head, which he narrowly avoids. "Because I'm a merciful master, I will give you fifteen minutes to be in my chamber. A minute later and I'll have you in the stocks for a week, is that understood, you disrespectful prat?!"

Merlin turns to him with his trademark, annoying smile and nods. "Thanks for understanding, Arthur." He says simply, getting up from his seat to help Gaius with breakfast.

Grinding his teeth for a moment, Arthur huffs and them stomps toward the door, suddenly unsure of why he doesn't just fire the idiot. But he doesn't. Instead, he grumps all the way back to his chamber, where he supposes he'll have to fetch breakfast for himself.

"You really shouldn't speak to him in that manner, Merlin." Gaius protests as he closes the door, but Merlin simply smirks at him and nods his head.

"I know. But he'd get bored if I stopped, keeps him on his toes, you know?"

The physician chuckles as he stirs a pot of steaming liquid over the fire. Merlin reaches for the cupboard where the bowls are kept and takes two down, as well as some spoons. He hands them to Gaius, who thanks him and goes to serving the gruel.

While he waits, Merlin takes his usual seat at the table, stretching his arms over his head again, stiff back arching as he yawns. Relaxing back into his seat, he turns toward the pitcher of water he fetched last night and extends a hand. Eyes flashing amber, the young sorcerer smiles as the jug floats into the air, tipping over to spill water into two wooden cups, which levitate to the table once they're full.

"Merlin..." Gaius grumbles disapprovingly. His ward knows how he disapproves of magic being used for such mundane, unimportant tasks. He's about to voice his displeasure when Merlin says,

"I know, I know. But really, Gaius, it's important this time. I only have fifteen minutes after all." His pale face is lighted with a crooked grin and the physician can only shake his head and place the boy's breakfast in front of him.

"Then you'd better eat fast, who will clean my leach tank if you're in the stocks for a week?" Gaius teases, earning a sarcastic laugh from Merlin, who only takes a few bites before standing up to go to his room so he can dress for the day. His mentor's eyebrows go up at the sight of the bowl of gruel steadily rising up from the table to follow him.

When Merlin finally arrives at Arthur's chamber, exactly fourteen minutes later, he's dressed in a grey tunic and his usual red scarf, black hair pressing closely to his forehead as he attempts to straighten it with his fingers. Without knocking, he opens the door and steps inside, finding the prince just finishing with his breakfast.

Arthur smiles when he sees him. "Ah, Merlin, you're just in time to take the dishes down to the kitchen, fetch my armor from the court blacksmith, set up the training yard, and help me train for the upcoming tournament!" The prince sits back into his chair with a pleased smirk on his face at how tired Merlin looks just thinking about the full day ahead.

Swallowing his annoyance, Merlin only smiles back. "Of course, Sire." He teases, knowing it makes Arthur a little uncomfortable whenever his friend calls him that. "Will there be anything else?"

"Hmm." The blonde man taps his chin thoughtfully before hopping to his feet and shaking his head. "Nope, that'll be everything. I'll meet in the yard for training in ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Merlin echoes in disbelief. "You expect me get all that done in ten minutes?"

Arthur feigns realization and chuckles, crossing the chamber to where his servant is standing. "Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry. You're right." He reaches out to roughly squeeze the boy's cheek, causing Merlin to wince and force a tight smile. "What ever was I thinking? Perhaps ten minutes is too much time. Wouldn't want you getting lazy, now would we?"

The forced smile remains on Merlin's face but he grunts his 'agreement'.

"Or, should I say, lazier." Arthur pats his servant's cheek a couple times before backing off and heading toward the door. "I'll see you in the yard in five minutes then." As the door shuts, Merlin's upturned lips twitch and he curls his fingers into a fist.

"Or should I say lazierrrr..." He mimics sarcastically in a voice that is several octaves too high. Snorting in frustration, Merlin gathers the metal dishes into his arms and hurries out the door, silently wondering why he tries so hard to protect the arrogant prince. Oh yeah...because he's my 'destiny'. Sighing, he decides there's no way he'll make it to the yard in five minutes, Arthur surely knows that. Still, the longer he keeps his master waiting, the more Arthur is sure to pester him about his 'laziness' so he'd better get a move on...

In all, it takes about ten minutes for Merlin to leave the dishes in the kitchen and make his way to the other end of the castle, where the court blacksmith is hammering away at a red-hot sword, ready to bathe in the tub of cold water at the smith's feet. At the sound of his door opening, the man glances up and smiles at Merlin.

"Merlin," He greets happily. "Been a while since you've stopped by. Here for Prince Arthur's armor and weapons, I presume?"

"Yes." He confirms with a smile of his own. "Have you finished repairing them?"

"Of course, of course." The smith assures him, leaving the half-hammered sword laying on the bench so that he can disappear into the back room of the shop for a moment, coming back with an arm full of steel plate armor, a sword, and a dagger. All of which looks heavy even for the well-built, muscle-bound blacksmith. He deposits the armor into Merlin's thin arms and laughs apologetically when the young man staggers under its weight. "Sorry, would you like me to help you carry that down to him?"

"No, no, it's fine." Merlin tells him in a strained voice as he fights to regain his balance. Smiling tightly, he thanks the smith and heads for the door.

"You sure you don't want any help?"

"Nope, I'm actually much stronger than I look!" He calls as he nudges the door shut with his hip. Merlin stumbles down the hall and turns a corner, taking a moment to glance around and make sure the coast is clear, his eyes swirl gold and he lowers his arms, Arthur's gear magically remaining at his chest level. "Phew." He sighs, rotating his shoulders. The young servant easily strides down the hall, the heavy burden following him closely.

Merlin is just trotting down the narrow steps that lead to the yard when a familiar sensation tingles down his spine. Slowing to a halt, he pauses, searching his memory for what it means. However, he doesn't get long to think because a moment later, the voice floats through his mind, putting an end to his confusion.

"Merlin..." It's the dragon. His ancient voice echoing through the recesses of Merlin's head, making the young sorcerer slightly dizzy. "We must talk. It is quite urgent, come find me immediately."

Merlin chews his lip for a second. He doesn't really have time to go see him right now, what with him technically being over fifteen minutes 'late'. He wonders if the dragon can hear his thoughts like Merlin can hear his and focuses on his own consciousness, trying to project the message. "Um, exactly how urgent are we talking here because I'm currently very late for a long day of slavery under my 'destiny'."

He receives no response so Merlin can only assume the dragon's beckons are one-way. With a heavy sigh, the sorcerer pauses at the bottom of the steps. The training yard-and Arthur-are just outside the door. The dragon is all the way beneath the dungeon. But if this really is as urgent as the dragon says then he'd best not ignore it.

Frowning, Merlin turns to a storage closet behind the stone steps and extends his hand. Eyes flashing, he mumbles, "Aliese." The previously locked door swings open and a couple of brooms come tumbling out but he doesn't waste time on them. The gold doesn't get a chance to fade from his blue eyes before the cleaning instruments are standing up on their own and gliding back into the closet along with Arthur's gear. Closing the door once again, he mutters, "Learh fearnancai" and nods to himself at the sound of the lock clicking back into place.

Merlin draws away from the closet and steals a glance out the small window into the yard, where he can see Arthur lounging against a table, surely waiting for his servant to arrive. Groaning softly, Merlin hurries back up the steps, snatching an unlit torch from the wall on his way up.

Hopefully this doesn't take too long. He comments to himself. I'm already going to be his target during target practice, better not give him any more reasons to make a 'mistake'.

Merlin reaches the secret chamber below Camelot within a few minutes, making sure to close the iron gate behind him. He takes a few steps down the cracked, stone staircase before lifting the dark torch in front of him and saying, "Leohtbora."

With a crackle of energy, a plume of fire blooms to life atop the torch and the chamber is flooded with orange light. Merlin jogs down the steps, eager to find out what the dragon has to say so he can get back to his surely livid master.

However, the further he goes, the more uneasy the young magician becomes. The dragon never calls him on his own, it's always Merlin who has to seek him out for council. Not the other way around. Whatever this matter is, it must be very important.

And probably has something to do with Arthur.