Author's Note: Gwen's been sent away. Aggravaine is the favorite uncle at the time.

I do not own Merlin – this is fan fiction.

It was just another one of those nights when all seems peaceful, but it was only peaceful for everyone who wasn't a secret Warlock destined to save Camelot. Merlin sighed, feeling a bit sorry for himself, as he scurried down the servant's passage ways, through the public hearing area, and out a window. He barely could hang onto the grout that rest between the big shiny white stone work of the castle wall, but Gods forbid if he ever got caught spying on anyone using Arthur's window. He could be warm. He could be that much closer to discovering what it was he needed to know so that he could devise a plot, get to bed, and maybe just maybe wake up in time for breakfast before he ended this nonsense.

It wasn't long until he found himself underneath the window where guests of Uther's were discussing something that sounded like – well honestly – nothing at all that suspicious. Merlin wasn't impressed with them, but he couldn't afford to relax. He couldn't leave the future to chance. He had tried to live life one step at a time and take things as they come, or what ever Gaius was preaching on about, oh yah, patience, but no it would never be enough. Thankfully, he was nearly invisible in this disguise though and he was very proud of himself, even though he was pretty sure he had somehow picked up a flea or two.

He wrinkled his long nose while thinking of the vast amount of time he had been putting in just trying to keep the place tidy, but no Arthur had to be a pig. He had to throw things and make messes. He did it on purpose. He was a complete brat and a prat and tended to have the attention span of a fruit bat.

Ah, but only the Gods knew just how much Merlin felt anxious. It was hard enough saving everyone all the time without getting caught, but the hardest part was... He sniffled at the air and clenched his teeth. A reflexive tremble shook his frame as a heady scent of sweetness wafted over him. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was strong!

"Damn this form, the senses are extra sharp!" thought Merlin as he repressed running full out all the way home to hide under his bed.

He swiveled his head and listened. It was just conversation and honestly if these people were any good they would at least say what needed to be said. If they were innocent they should have the decency to say something interesting, but no! These royal types were so disgustingly predictable. The visiting King and his son were just chatting. They did not behave as badly as most, but they were just as dull and just as greedy. Most of the neighboring kingdoms that Uthur had some kind of agreement with had visited to "check in" on the stability of Camelot. Their conversation wasn't pleasant, the son wasn't good enough. He didn't measure up when compared to Arthur. Prince To Much Padding On His Ass wasn't trying hard enough! Same song, different tune or is it different song same tune? Merlin wasn't sure – nor did he care.

"So nothing is going on? No betrayal? No secret plan?" thought Merlin as he turned his body around on the narrow windowsill, his little bottom brushing against the glass. He paid no attention to the edge of the windowsill. He did not look down. Instead, he scurried along as quickly as he could, lost in his thoughts. Honestly, he was bewildered. It had been some time since there had been a secret plot against the kingdom and quiet, while nice, made him jumpy.

"I've polished the armor, mucked out the stables, and walked the dogs. I brushed down his jackets. I shined the buttons, mended the armpit holes, and washed all his laundry. His boots are clean, his floor is clean, his wardrobe is dusted, and his linens are changed. The fire is stoked. He has a night time snack and drink. I pampered the horses, checked their hooves, checked his riding gear, and sharpened his swords." Merlin went through his mental to do list as he raced towards home as he listened and sniffed almost hysterically as he ran. The truth was that going over his chores mentally calmed him a bit, a habit that he wasn't sure was all that healthy – however calm was the goal. The listing of his daily accomplishments extended into Gaius's extensive herbal yearnings and Merlin was quite the Botanical Bounty Hunter. His delicate frame swaying slightly as his legs sped even faster. His heart was racing. It really would not be good to get caught.

As he came up to a corner, he paused and nervously darted a few nervous glances left and right and left again. Something didn't seem right. He fought the urge to blindly charge ahead at full speed, and later – he would wish that he had. Unfortunately he had not looked behind him and did not expect a very sleepy but hungry Prince Arthur to grab him up by his tail and dangle him at arms length.

"It hurts! It hurts! Damn you Arthur, I already put you to bed! Why are you up?" squeaked Merlin with all his might as he twisted and turned as he dangled dangerously from Arthur's fingertips. The view was awful as well, from this distance, at this size, Arthur's nasal passages were huge.

"You are a pathetic looking rat. Long, thin, and just gawky," Arthur chuckled at Merlin who squeaked indignantly cursing Arthur out masterfully in rat. "Good news is, you are so skinny I doubt my manservant, no matter how hunger he gets or how low our stocks get, will serve you to me as soup, but the bad news is..." Arthur turned sharply and walked down a dark hallway.

Merlin considered biting his Prince, just for being an arse. He felt sick as the world went by way to fast and blurry for him to get a hold of where he was and of course, Arthur wasn't being careful or gentle.

"The bad news is, friend," Arthur smirked and Merlin bristled at the word friend, "You get to live in the dungeons and torture the criminals for me. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of toes and fingers to nibble on." That was the send off that Arthur gave Merlin before he threw him down past the stone steps into a pile of rotting hay.

Merlin didn't move even after the dungeon door had been shut. He DID remember to lay out Arthur's midnight snack, did the glutton already eat it and plan on raiding the kitchens? "How FAT was the PRAT going to get?"

Merlin sighed and not for the first time, wondered sincerely why the hell he even bothered with this anymore?

Merlin flung the curtains wide open to allow a glorious amount of sunlight into the royal chambers of Prince Arthur – The Toad, or rather was a toad in Merlin's dreams last night. A large, cool skinned, spotted, warty, toad. Fat. Slow. A toad made for target practice and the sky was filled with birds that eat toads. Falcons. Merlin woke up stressed.

"Time to get up, Sire." Merlin said as cheerfully as possible. "Lots to do. Lots of Princely things to attend. There are knights that need bullying. Maids that need flirting with, the servants need demoralizing, and of course - you need your exercise." Wincing slightly as he said exercise put even more emphasis on the word, but Merlin was more than a little angry with Arthur at the moment.

The Once and Future King grumbled, ignored his servant and rolled over.

"...I know it's tempting to stay in bed. Gravity is such a hard thing to fight, but fight it you must. It might end up the one thing you cannot defeat," Merlin voice was so brightly toned it was almost musical. He knew it would annoy Arthur and that he was risking getting reprimanded, but he was still angry about being tossed in the dungeons.

The servants long legs carried him to the side of his precious prince in no time, he looked at the mass of limbs, sheets, covers, and pillows without one ounce of pity. His eyes flickered briefly as he took hold of the mattress as he lifted. A satisfying, thump from the other-side of the bed rewarded him for his efforts as he rolled the royal out of bed.

"MERLIN!"

Merlin smugly stalked over to his target, "I see you remember my name, Sire. Welcome to the day. Your breakfast is slowly getting cold, Sire." His hands were hooked behind his back. Head straight but eyes were turned down – locked with Arthur's. The Prince scowled at his servant.

"You are NOT to wake me in that manner!" complained the Prince.

"Sire, your breakfast? After you feed, then you can start the demoralizing. You do need to keep your strength up. You wouldn't want to faint from the effort!" Merlin did not even bend to help Arthur off the floor. His tone was formal, colder than his forced cheery wake up tone. He pointed to the table with a long boney finger with an expression that someone in the room – stank.

Author's Note:

Takes Place during for 4th season - out of sync in order to feed the plot. Any non-cannon characters that show up are merely plot tools and will have short appearances. They are not permanent. I know, it sounds like a bad author's note - however I don't want anyone to anticipate more from a plot tool. Think of them as a guest star for an episode? I don't not own Merlin. Merlin is not my property. I will be buying the DVDs when they are available in a pretty box set. It is my hope that you enjoy this story - I worked very hard on this plot. Any and all feedback is appreciated - as my writing attempt here is experimental.