Author's Note: I got to wondering about the fact that Merlin ends up in the stocks quite a bit in series 1, but never in any of the other series. This is my filling in the gap about what might have happened to stop Merlin ever going to the stocks again.

Arthur's week had grown long and boring, a monotonous litany of complaints and crises having resulted in multiple meetings with advisers and nobles and soldiers. When Merlin informed him a messenger had come by to say his father wanted him to discuss some skirmish at the border between Cenred's soldiers and Camelot's knights, he'd despaired. More accurately, he'd thrown a petty tantrum, chucking a goblet across his room. Merlin had narrowly ducked.

"Hey!" he called out. "I'm not the one who wants your backside in the council chamber!"

Arthur, petulant and perturbed, crossed his arms over his chest. "I need to get out of here."

Merlin leaned down to pick up the goblet, grousing inside. When did he ever get a break? Always cleaning or polishing or collecting herbs or scrubbing leach tanks. What he wouldn't give to sit in a meeting for an hour or two.

"Lord Varin has a daughter, doesn't he?"

Merlin looked up from placing the goblet back on the table. "Oh no. I know that look. No. Not again."

"Come on, Merlin."

"Last time you did that you about eloped."

"Last time, I actually cared. This is an excuse."

"Yes, but you'll tell me to make the excuse to your father!"

"If you think of a better excuse, he won't put you in the stocks."

Merlin's sour expression proclaimed the likelihood of that outcome.

Arthur laughed and walked over to him, clapping his shoulder. "Practice makes perfect? Look, you do this, and I'll give you two days off."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Promise."

Merlin considered. The stocks weren't that bad. An hour or two of enduring rubbish and then two days of freedom. He sighed. He could never resist Arthur's cajoling anyway. When he begged like this, he felt more like a friend than a royal, and if anything, Merlin knew friends should be loyal. "All right."

Arthur grinned, swiped some fresh flowers from the vase on the table, and vanished out the door to enjoy a long ride and the company of a woman.

Merlin steeled himself before entering the throne room. He'd put this off as long as he could. Most of the council had arrived. He drew in a long breath, already rolling his shoulders in anticipation of an hour in the stocks. Be convincing this time, he counseled himself, but doubt undermined his confidence.

Merlin pushed the door open, striding across the room. One or two nobles sent him a cursory glance, then continued their conversations. Merlin paused when he reached Uther standing at the head of the table and bowed.

"Where's Arthur?"

Merlin swallowed. "Erm..."

Uther's brow furrowed. "Don't tell me he wasn't informed."

"He was. At least, he was supposed to be. The message came, about the meeting I mean, but, eh, Arthur wasn't in his room."

Uther pinched the bridge of his nose. "But you were."

"Yes, sire, but I only saw Arthur for a moment this morning and I just, forgot to tell him. He went riding, but I can go find him for you." Merlin stared hopefully at the king.

Uther lowered his arm, and his cold eyes about froze Merlin to his bones. Merlin could feel his wrists already manacled. "When I named you Arthur's manservant, I didn't think I had chosen a simpleton with a memory like a sieve."

"I apologize, sire. I can do better." Merlin dipped his head in submission.

"I'm not sure you can without a little incentive."

Merlin looked up. "Eh..."

"If it were up to me, I'd let you go now, but seeing as you've saved my son's life twice over, I'll be merciful."

Merlin bit his tongue to keep from blurting out that he didn't consider the stocks exactly merciful.

Uther clasped his hands behind his back. "I recall another lapse of memory on your part. Do you know Cenred's men have attacked ours?"

"Y-es," Merlin answered haltingly.

"And this means..."

"Eh..."

"That we might soon be at war."

Merlin stared. His mind whirled back to a conversation several months ago and he gaped.

"Stop gawking like a fish. Guards!"

Thank you, Arthur, you selfish prat! Merlin muttered sarcastically in his head as heavy hands grasped his arms.

Arthur smiled to himself as he let go Lady Joye's hand after escorting her back to her rooms. The day had been just what he needed—bright, sunny, and refreshing. Maybe he'd give Merlin three days off, just to show his appreciation.

He sauntered back to his chamber, sighing in satisfaction as he opened the door. He frowned when he discovered no lunch on the table. Ah, of course. The stocks. He chuckled. Merlin must have failed to convince his father again.

Arthur glanced at the fruit bowl on the table. Its contents were mainly fresh, but he spied one squishy peach. He picked it up and made for the hall. He couldn't help but think to poke a little fun at his manservant's expense. He imagined how Merlin would scowl at him, then he'd confess it all a joke and inform his manservant he had an extra day off, and Merlin's face would alight with the grin that reached his eyes, and all would be well between them once more.

Arthur made his way to the village square. He caught sight of the bowed raven head. Poor Merlin. He really shouldn't insist the servant lie for him, but it didn't seem to cost the boy too much. He never complained about it afterward, anyway. Those who enjoyed tormenting unfortunates in the stocks had vanished by now, tired of the game, but they'd left their evidence on his manservant.

Arthur halted several meters away. The solider guarding the stocks nodded to him, and Arthur nodded back, then smiled. The guard didn't return it. Oh, well. Must be one of the stodgy ones his father picked for this kind of thing. He noted several villagers had stopped to stare at him. He grinned cockily at them, then aimed and let his fruit fly. It hit dead on, splattering against the crown of Merlin's head. There was no response. Arthur frowned.

"Oi! Merlin!" he called out.

The head moved, slowly craning up to look. Arthur's eyebrows met in confusion at Merlin's pained features. You'd think he was used to this by now. Arthur approached.

"Crick in your neck? Leg asleep?" he taunted.

Merlin replied quietly. "No, sire."

"What is it then?"

"Nothing."

Arthur turned to the guard, put off by Merlin's mood. "How much time does he have left?"

The guard glanced up at the sun. "Almost done, my lord."

"I'll wait."

"Just go." Merlin's tone brooked no argument.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're sore over this?"

"I'm not."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. He turned his attention to the guard once more. "Can't you let him out?"

The guard checked the sky again.

"He's learned the lesson by now."

"Indeed." The guard unlocked the manacles around Merlin's wrists and released the stocks' hold. He held fast to Merlin' upper arm as the servant stiffly straightened. "I will take him to Gaius, my lord."

"Clean up and then come find me, Merlin," Arthur commanded, deciding to tell him in private about the extra day off.

The guard looked at Arthur incredulously, breaking his stoicism. "If I may speak openly, my lord."

Arthur creased his brow, but nodded.

"I do not believe your servant should attend you until tomorrow."

Arthur laughed. "Is that so?"

"Sire." Merlin's voice was quiet, and he patted the guard with a hand as if placating him. "I'll bring your dinner when I can."

"He doesn't know," the guard exclaimed with sudden understanding.

Merlin squeezed the guard's arm in warning, but the soldier glared at Arthur and swung Merlin around. Merlin grappled with him, but the guard won, pulling up Merlin's shirt.

Arthur's stomach dropped at the same time his heart leaped into his throat. Angry red lash marks laced Merlin's back. None seemed to have bled, but it made no difference to Arthur who now noticed the coiled whip attached to the guard's belt.

Arthur recovered himself, putting on the air of nonchalance he'd perfected over the years. "How many?"

"Ten, my lord."

Arthur took this information in. He had seen whippings. Sometimes those in the stocks received them if the crime was heinous enough, but Merlin's supposed transgression shouldn't have warranted this.

Merlin pulled on his shirt and managed to get it back down. "I'm fine. I want to go to Gaius now."

The guard was stayed when Arthur gripped Merlin's arm. "I'll take him."

Merlin made to pull away, but Arthur's grasp became iron as he supported him, moving back to the citadel.

When they reached the privacy of a deserted hall, Arthur stopped. "What happened?"

Merlin actually laughed. "Isn't that obvious?"

"You know what I mean."

"I told your father I forgot to tell you about the meeting, that's all."

"And he..." Arthur gestured at his manservant's back, "ordered this?"

"Well, it's a time of war, you see, or almost."

"A time of war."

"He did warn me. I guess I should have remembered."

"Warned you?"

"Yeah, when you went off with Sophia. He said if it were a time of war and I'd forgotten to tell you about the patrol, then, eh, I'd've been flogged. I thought he was just trying to scare me, but I guess not, huh?"

Arthur didn't return Merlin's smile. "Let's get you to Gaius," he mumbled.

Arthur remained impassive as he perched on Gaius' bed while the physician looked his ward over. Merlin sat at the table, occupying the same bench as Gaius who had mixed some concoction together, then dipped a cloth into it.

"Berimund did it?" Gaius asked.

Merlin nodded at the name of the guard who had stood watch at the stocks.

"A good man," Gaius muttered. "Uses a more delicate hand when it's needed."

Merlin smiled, then winced when Gaius dabbed the cloth against one of the welts. "Ow. Do you have to press so hard?"

"I'm being as gentle as I can, Merlin," Gaius assured.

"And that stuff stings."

"It'll bring down the swelling."

"But no possibility of infection?" The question came from Arthur.

"No, sire," Gaius confirmed. "There are only minute places of broken skin. Not enough to bleed but a few drops." He looked back at his ward. "You haven't told me how you managed to get yourself into this situation."

Merlin's eyes flicked over to Arthur then back to Gaius. "Forgot to tell Arthur about a meeting with the king."

Gaius tilted his head and his right eyebrow crinkled, a sign he didn't quite believe what he was hearing. "I see. I don't think such a thing deserves a flogging, does it, sire?"

Arthur kept his reply even. "Not usually."

"Then..." Gaius prompted.

"It was just one too many times forgetting, I guess," Merlin explained. "This is incentive to remember."

"Is it?" Gaius asked.

Merlin shrugged and grimaced at the pain the gesture caused.

Arthur stood. "You have the day off, Merlin."

"I don't need it."

"Merlin. Obey for once."

"But, Arthur..."

"Obey!" Arthur ordered loudly as he left the room.

Arthur found his father finishing a late lunch.

"Arthur," Uther greeted, gesturing to a chair.

"Father." Arthur sat slowly down.

"You missed a meeting."

"I'm aware of that."

"I must ask your forgiveness."

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh?"

"I should have taken greater care in assigning you a manservant. However loyal your current one is, he doesn't seem to care much about your role as heir to the throne."

Arthur didn't respond. His father thought all those times in the stocks meant Merlin was an inferior influence.

"I can find you another."

Arthur spoke quickly. "He has saved my life."

Uther nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose we can send him away with a reward."

Arthur blinked at the logic. Whip a boy for forgetting a meeting, but then send him away with a reward. "I am sure in time Merlin can improve, especially after today."

"Perhaps." Uther sighed. "You know he had to be flogged."

Arthur nodded tightly.

"I have found that sometimes the whip can teach faster than time."

Arthur balled his fists under the table. "But did his failure merit such a punishment?"

Uther brought his hands together and tapped his lips with his forefingers. "This meeting was vital, Arthur. Cenred is a threat. You have a role in the coming events to prevent war. I needed you here."

Arthur didn't answer, but was already resolving to never miss another meeting again no matter how bored he was.

Uther leaned back in his chair. "If you are willing to put up with him, then he may stay. As you say, he has shown his willingness to protect you even if he isn't so sensible."

Arthur's expression never changed despite his thought that Merlin may have protected him, but he had certainly failed to return the favor.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur snapped when Merlin appeared in his chambers.

"Dinner," Merlin said as he set a tray on the table.

"I told you to take the day off," Arthur protested, rising from his desk.

"I'm not an invalid," Merlin growled.

Arthur stood next to Merlin at the table. "You're not wearing your jacket."

"So?"

"You always wear it."

"Not always."

"Usually."

Merlin fixed him with a "please stop talking about this" gaze. "I'm better," he insisted, moving away to the laundry basket.

"Get out, Merlin."

Merlin angrily stuffed a shirt in the basket. "Stop! Really. Just stop. It's not like it's going to scar or anything. It hardly hurt."

Arthur stomped over to grab Merlin's wrist, forcing him to look at him. "It was my fault."

"I agreed to cover for you."

Arthur let him go. Merlin headed with the basket to the door.

"Merlin," Arthur called after his manservant.

"What?" Merlin asked, his tone exasperated.

"It won't happen again."

Merlin laughed. "Just keep thinking that, Arthur." He left the room, wondering how soon the prince's words would be disproved.

But they never were. The stocks lost their favorite occupant from that day forward.

And years later, when Merlin was hiding the truth once more for the sake of Arthur's vanity, trying to punch another hole in his belt, and he told the king to think of something pleasant, and Arthur replied, "You in the stocks?", he smiled in the midst of his task. And Arthur smiled at himself in his mirror. Because both of them knew such a thing wasn't ever going to happen again as long as they lived.