Merlin Oneshots

11. Happy... birthday?

In a land of myth and a time of magic, the destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young boy, his name?
Merlin.

Merlin rushed down the slim hall of the servants' staircase, muttering expletives under his breath. Arthur had him doing chore, after chore, after chore for missing the entire previous day off to go to 'the tavern' - of course, he'd actually been kidnapped by Morgana. Again. But he wasn't going to tell Arthur that. It was getting a little ridiculous at this point. It was only around 9 am but he'd been working non-stop since 4 am, he'd only had an hour of sleep because he'd been too busy polishing Arthur's armour to realise it was 3 am.

Merlin was so exhausted that he'd almost forgotten it was his birthday. Almost. Not that he was going to say anything, Merlin was never too fond of birthdays anyway. It was a waste of good food and money, and so they never really had them back in Ealdor, not to mention the fact that the only person he ever celebrated with was Will (They would play games all day in their secret tree house, the ultimate hideout).
Besides, if he were to use the excuse then he'd be asked of his age, and there was no way in hell that Merlin was going to reveal that. Still, he kept track each year. He didn't know why he did it, it just happened subconsciously. He realised he could probably get time off for announcing it, he just didn't need the attention. He'd told very little people of his birthday, and even less of his age - so few people knew, that Merlin could count them on one hand - Not even Gaius knew of the exact date.

As Merlin plucked Arthur's clean jacket from the kitchens, he heard said King screech his name. He quickened his pace, finding the King only down the hall.
"Merlin! Where have you been?!" Arthur sighed, exasperatedly.

"I was doing the chores that you told me to do, Clotpole." Merlin rolled his eyes, dangling Arthur's freshly pressed jacket in front of his face.

Arthur pursed his lips and gently snatched the jacket from Merlin's hand, "Right, well, I suggest you fetch the horses. We're going hunting." Merlin only groaned, could today get any worse? Arthur smirked at his reaction, "We'll be gone for three days so ensure that you pack everything." Ugh.

"Yes, Sire. I'll go prepare the horses for your slaughter trip." Merlin muttered bitterly and stormed off before Arthur could retort.

***

"Merlin!" Gwaine grinned as he spotted said boy tacking up the horses.

"Gwaine!" Merlin grinned, looking up from the horse's girth strap.

"You need any help?" The drunk cocked his head.

"If you don't mind." Merlin sighed.

"Princess got you working hard then?" Gwaine asked as he began to tack up another horse.

"Yeah, I've been up since before first light and he's had me doing almost every chore he could think of." Merlin yawned.

"Mate, I'm always here to help... unless I'm hungover." He chuckled.

"It's fine, I can handle it." Merlin shook his head.

"You look like the living dead." Gwaine cocked a brow.

"I don't look that bad." Merlin huffed indignantly. 

"Merlin. Yes you do." Gwaine deadpanned.

Before Merlin could reply, a shout from behind them caught their attention, "Merlin!" Said servant rolled his eyes before spinning on his heels to face the blonde bimbo.

"Yes, Arthur?" Merlin quirked a brow.

"Aren't you done yet?" Arthur had his hands on his hips and almost reprimanding.