A/N: Well, it's not my usual stuff. Borderline crack, really. But hopefully still readable. There are about a million things I should be doing- homework, studying, writing for other stories- but I did this instead. Ah, procrastination. Enjoy. (IDOM)

(P.S. Kudos to whoever catches the Shrek reference)

Work Cut Out For a Warlock

Well, it had certainly started as a normal enough day. Merlin had gotten up a little late, as per usual. He'd scraped Gaius' attempt at oatmeal out of the pot (with some struggle- a physician does not always a good cook make) and swallowed it down, like always. He'd woken up Arthur, dodged various projectiles from said king, which was nothing new. Then things had taken a little bit of a change.

Arthur had wanted to go out for a ride, with only himself and Merlin for company, with no valid reason. He didn't want to hunt. He wasn't going on a magic rampage. He didn't want the company of the knights; in fact, he wanted the whole pointless exploit kept a secret. This would be odd by itself, not to mention that Arthur was king and it hardly seemed prudent for him to take on any form of solo mission with his status.

Then, if possible, things got weirder. Arthur dragged Merlin to some druid ruins. Then, to top it off, he spent hours simply walking around, silent, examining the rubble. Any time the warlock tried to speak, he was silenced by the agitated king, so he eventually gave up and watched the king wander around in a frustrated silence. After a good while of this, without a word of explanation but with the grim determination of an enlightened man, Arthur packed up and the duo went back to Camelot. The king dismissed his servant upon arrival and spent the rest of the afternoon locked up in his room, doing only heavens knows what.

By dinner time, Merlin wanted an answer for his friend's erratic behavior, and he was determined to get one. So, platter full of food held in one hand, it was with much determination and a good mindful of stubbornness that Merlin marched to Arthur's quarters hours later.

"Dinner," Merlin stated, sweeping into the room without knocking and letting the platter clatter on top of the table.

"Mmhum," Arthur muttered, not looking up from his desk.

"Arthur?"

No response.

"Arthur."

Nada.

"ARTHUR."

Still nothing.

Now borderline worried, Merlin hurried over to the king's desk.

"You're not sick, are you? What are you working on anyw-"

That got a response from the king.

"Nothing, Merlin," Arthur snapped, sweeping the papers under one arm. "Go pour the wine."

"I didn't bring you any wine," Merlin responded drily, more than a little irritated now. "The last thing you need with your behavior today is alcohol." He expected a retort, or in the very least he expected to have to dodge something, so he quickly backed away from the desk, but to his surprise the answer brought no anger from Arthur.

Instead, the king ran one weary hand over his eyes and let out a long sigh. "You're right, Merlin. I'm sorry. You deserve an explanation."

"I'm- what?" The warlock spluttered, sitting down heavily in a chair by the table. "Did you just apologize?"

"There are going to be some changes around here, so I may as well tell you first. Try to keep an open mind about it, okay?" Arthur requested, standing up and circling the desk to look down at his friend.

"Ok-ay…" Merlin said skeptically. "Go on." He'd be the first to admit he hadn't expected an explanation this easily.

"I've been tossing this idea around in my head for a while now," the king began. "I know it's a little… unorthodox… but what if magic isn't all evil?"

Merlin was glad he was sitting down, because he would've collapsed if he hadn't. "What?" He squeaked, sure he'd heard wrong.

"I know, I know," Arthur rushed, "but just hear me out." It was all Merlin could do to nod in mute amazement.

"See, the druids have magic. But they never attack. We always attack them. And even when we do, they don't ever really fight back. They just flee. And they've never rallied to take revenge on Camelot- it's always a renegade or two who attack. So I got to thinking about the past few years, and it just all added up. I think the evil we fight is just a small percentage- granted a vocal one- of the magical community." Arthur was pacing now, hands clasped behind his back as he spoke. He was talking quickly, like he was afraid he wouldn't get to finish.

Merlin couldn't have stopped him even if he wanted to. He felt like a statue.

"So, I went to the druid ruins just to make sure. You know, if I found a war room, or an arsenal of weapons or anything, I'd know I was wrong. But I didn't. That was what convinced me I was right. So-" here Arthur broke off to grab the paper he'd been bent over earlier- "I'm drawing up a five-year plan to legalize magic. It should be done in about a week, and then I can present it to the council. What do you think?"

Merlin felt dizzy. "You're… you're legalizing magic?" This was more than he'd ever dared to hope for. He would be free! Finally, after all these years, to be himself! "Arthur-"

"I know it's radical," Arthur interrupted hurriedly, misinterpreting Merlin's hesitation. "But you said you'd have an open mind, remember?"

"Arthur-"

"And it would be fairer to everyone, you know-"

"Arthur."

"Maybe magic is kind of like a sword, y'know, and it's the user-"

That was where Merlin drew the line. No way was Arthur about to use that line on him of all people. "Arthur. Let me talk." The king, for once, listened.

" I think it's great," Merlin grinned, his voice cracking slightly. "Really, really fantastic. I can't even tell you how much-" he broke off, composed himself, and carried on. "You're about to make a lot of people very happy." Arthur sagged in relief.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

With that settled, Arthur sat down at the table and pulled his dinner towards him. After all, he was famished.

Merlin had decided to tell him. This was it. He was going to do it. With Arthur's new opinions… yes, it just might work out after all. Ever since their talk a few days ago, Merlin had been on cloud nine. Elated was putting it simply. He barely had room for nerves, even now as he walked towards the king's rooms.

"Hey, Arthur?" Merlin poked his head in, and found the king where he'd been last time- by his desk. "Could I speak to you for a moment, please?"

If Arthur noticed to formality of Merlin's tone, he didn't say anything.

"Of course," he affirmed, not looking up from his work. "What do you need?"

"Well…" Merlin began, then hesitated. He felt the nerves now, whatever his previous mood. "I just wanted to tell you…" Just say it. Get it out there. If you stop again you'll never say it.

"I'm the sorcerer you've been looking for, sir. The one you need."

Merlin actually jumped at the words. What?! No! Where had that come from?!

"I'm sorry?" Arthur asked, his full attention now on his manservant, one eyebrow raised. "You're what?"

"I didn't say that," Merlin spluttered, face red.

"No, he didn't. I did." From the doorway materialized a short man wearing a ridiculously big hat and long cloak. "Invisibility is but one of my many abilities, my lord."

"Ah," Arthur said, leaning back in his chair. "You must be Herron. I was wondering when you'd show up."

"I am here whenever you need me, my liege," the man accompanied his boot licking with a sweeping bow. Personally, Merlin thought his true power was balancing with his atrocious hat on his head.

"Arthur, what's going on?" Merlin hissed, eyeing the small intruder with dislike.

"Well, I'll need a court sorcerer to help me, won't I? So I'm doing interviews."

"You're what?" Merlin cried, spinning on the king. "Interviews? With people like him? Just look at him Arthur, he's clearly compensating."

"He's a sorcerer," Arthur said calmly.

"He's a jester! All he'll be able to do for you is party tricks!" Merlin complained.

"Now, now Merlin. No need to get petty. What do you know about it anyway?"

"What indeed," Merlin grumbled, stalking towards the door. "Have fun with your 'interview'."

The door closed with a very unsatisfying, slow thud behind him.

Things quickly went from bad to worse. As it turned out, watching Arthur sail uncharted waters alone was just as frustrating as practicing illegal magic. Especially since he was doing it wrong.

"I've finally decided on a punishment for you," Arthur said one evening, a week after the Herron incident.

"A punishment," Merlin echoed drily.

"Yes, for your rudeness to our guest."

"I hope you don't mean hat boy," Merlin grumbled.

"Herron, yes," Arthur confirmed, a slight smirk on his face. In Merlin's humble opinion, he was enjoying himself far too much. "Since you seem to love sorcerers so much, from now on you'll conduct the interviews. Maybe it will help you become more tolerant towards magic."

"Arthur!"

"I want the top three candidates in a month's time. Here's the list of who has an appointment so far," Arthur added, tossing Merlin a scroll from his desk. Then, picking up his crown, he was walking out the door. "I'm headed to my meeting with the council. Good luck, Merlin."

Letting the scroll unroll, Merlin watched in desolation as it rolled across the floor. Two rolls of names written in tiny script- perfect.

Two weeks. Two weeks Merlin had spent coped up in a tiny stone room, interviewing useless idiots one right after the other. Every now and then he'd stumble across a rare ounce of talent, but it was uncommon. Most of the talented magicians were still in hiding, hesitant to trust the king's decree.

Besides, Merlin was the best of the best, so what was the point? Not that he could tell the king that. Since passing his decree, step one of his plan, Merlin hadn't seen hide or tail of his friend. Kept busy by his advisors, and Merlin locked away giving pointless interviews, it didn't look like he'd have a chance anytime soon, either.

"My name is Yeltin," declared the newest arrival.

"Mmhum," Merlin hummed, crossing the name off the list. "Okay."

"I am a magician of esteemed status!"

"Okay."

"A druid of high talent!"

"Sure." They were all of high talent. It didn't mean anything. In the corner, Gwaine stifled a laugh. The knight had been posted to ensure the oh-so-helpless Merlin's safety. His sanity, on the other hand, was on its own.

"I am more powerful than even Emrys - perhaps you've heard of him?"

That got Merlin's attention. "Emrys?" He echoed, surprised. Surely even his luck wasn't thatbad. Destiny hated him.

"Yes," Yeltin said, obviously pleased at having the name recognized. "His power is minute compared to mine!"

"Really." Merlin wasn't one to throw his weight around, but these interviews were exhausting, and he was in no mood for this. "Prove it."

Gwaine looked startled by the challenge, but didn't object. He was probably curious despite himself.

"I will!" The man declared, sweeping to his feet. One flashy spell later, and all the torches in the room flared up so flame licked the stone ceiling. It was the eighth time Merlin had seen the spell preformed that day. Even Gwaine, whose magical knowledge was limited, didn't look impressed.

"Right. I'll be sure to mention you to the king," Merlin lied. Yeltin left, looking pleased.

"Well," Gwaine chuckled. "He was certainly full of himself, wasn't he? But that Emrys guy he mentioned might be worth looking into."

"Don't worry. You're looking at him," Merlin said flatly.

"Good one, mate," Gwaine laughed, thumping the warlock on the back. "This lot does make you feel like anyone could be magical don't they? NEXT."

"My name is Odai! I am a magician of high talent…."

It wasn't until his month was up that Merlin finally saw Arthur again. Called to his chamber to report his progress, Merlin had never been more relieved. Finally he had a chance to end this.

"Ah, Merlin! Perfect timing, for once. Maybe those interviews did you some good! Who do you have for me?"

"Me." Merlin was past being nervous. Past scared. He was exhausted, irritable, and feeling more than a little cheated. "Make me your court sorcerer. That lot has no talent."

"Sure, Merlin," Arthur snorted. "Seriously, who do you have?"

"I am serious. I'll do it."

"Right," Arthur rolled his eyes. "The thing about Court Sorcerer, Merlin, is they actually have to be a sorcerer. Surely even you could figure that out."

"I am a sorcerer."

Arthur paused, as if sizing up his manservant, before saying with all the eloquence of a king:

"Well, why didn't you just say so?"