Warnings: Prattness.

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Arthur been through a lot with the idiot. The duo had accomplished a lot in the name of what the lanky male repeatedly called "destiny."

They had conquered Albion together. Brought back magic! (He could sense his father roll in his grave right then.) Even managed to get Morgana to stop smirking.

Because it was destiny.

However, after a point, it just had to stop.

"Merlin…" the royal grumbled, watching as the dust settled in the air and his friend proceeded to move more giant rocks with his mind.

And not just any old rocks, the begrudged blond remembered. No! The idiot had made Arthur take him all the way across the bloody ocean to get these rocks. These particular rocks that Merlin insisted he needed. Rocks that looked like…rocks.

"French rocks," the royal recalled, glaring at the massive stones.

And why couldn't the idiot simply choose from the plethora of perfectly fine rocks in Albion? Or, better yet, in Camelot?

'Cause it's destiny,' the proclamation from the warlock rang in the king's ears.

The royal pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

Yes, destiny. More specifically, Merlin's destiny.

Well, Arthur had had it about up to here with Merlin's destiny. Merlin could shove his destiny where the sun don't shine!

"Merlin," the once and future king drawled out, " These are rocks."

The warlock poked his head out of the side of the one of the stones, dust settling in his hair and face. In an imitation that would have made Gaius proud, the pale youth quirked an eyebrow.

"Arthur, I thought we already been through this-"

"Rocks, Merlin," the King repeated, eying the tall stones as if challenging them to a knight's dual. " You couldn't get giant, dull rocks somewhere not across the goddamn ocean?"

"No," the other youth glared, dusting off all the dirt that settled onto his clothing. The king watched as the annoying idiot sauntered over to stand beside him, hands on his hips, with a the legendary grin bards will be singing about for ages to come.

"I had to get them from there because-"

"It was destiny," the royal finished for him." Yes, yes, yes Merlin. I am aware of all of your destinies by now. However, have you ever stopped to wonder if destiny was wrong?"

The other's face suddenly grew ashen. " Arthur, destiny is never wrong."

"So then, what was the purpose of doing all this?" the royal inquired, continuing to glare at the massive megaliths. Really, they just looked like rocks. Rocks that had cost him a lot of money and time to drag across the bloody ocean!

Just then, a strange thought struck the blond, 'Are Camelot's rocks not good enough for destiny?'

"Can you," the royal began, waving his hand in the air in a strange gesture. The ex-manservant blinked back. He never did learn those hand signals.

"Can you…make another one of these…?" Arthur gestured towards the stones.

"A stone circle, Arthur?"

"Yes. Can you make another one?"

The warlock scratched his jaw, pondering. He studied the stones for a moment, before his gaze returned to the king. " I thought you didn't like the stones," the other youth pouted.

"I don't, which is why I want you to make another one, bigger, with stones from Camelot!" the king replied.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because it's not…"

"I am ordering you as King of Albion, Merlin," Arthur interrupted, gesturing towards the stupid not-from-Camelot stone circle his ex-manservant concocted. " To construct another bigger, better stone circle."

The king's red cape swished as took his leave, ignoring the strange grumbling sound behind him.

He was going to get that stone circle. 'Yes,' the monarch grinned. Albion was not about to be outdone by anyone.

Especially the French!

Weeks later, two massive stone structures stood atop a chalk-grassy hill. One in the shape of a circle, and the other in the shape of a word which what archaeologists in the future could only translate as: "Prat."