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How to accidentally train your manservant
Merlin knew how to fight.
And he didn’t just know how to fight, he also wielded weapons with a talent and dexterity that matched and even exceeded most of the knights’.
When Arthur suddenly realised this, he felt like an idiot. It shouldn’t have been so surprising. Of course Merlin knew how to fight – he’d known that deep down – but until now that observation had been buried far down in his subconscious, and had not truly nor fully been put into words.
Today however, Arthur wondered how he had managed for so long to convince himself that Merlin was utterly inept at combat when – honestly! – Arthur himself had been the one training him for years.
Of course, those drills hadn’t truly be meant as such. Merlin had started off as a training dummy for Arthur, and with time had become stronger, faster, had acquired better reflexes and knowledge of armed combat, simply by watching and dodging Arthur. Then Arthur had taught him to block and defend himself, to better his combat stance, so that he could be a more realistic target, and if that accidentally meant Merlin could learn some tricks to save himself when confronted by enemies, even better! It was normal that Merlin had become better over the years, he knew that, it was just that he never fully and consciously realised to what extent!
The fact that his training sessions with Merlin and those with the knights never overlapped had doubtlessly contributed to this late realisation – be it Arthur’s or anyone else’s.
Today however, when he was trading blows with Sir Leon during training, he found himself thinking along the lines of ‘Merlin wouldn’t have left that opening’ or ‘Merlin would have known how to block that’. And the fact he had those thoughts troubled him more than expected. Leon was a far cry from being a squire; he was most likely his best knight. So why was there a little voice in his head constantly telling him that Merlin could have done better? How ridiculous!
No, there was most likely a better explanation. Merlin knew Arthur by heart, how he moved, how he fought, and he had only ever trained with Arthur, so he was probably able to anticipate Arthur’s moves better than anyone. He would no doubt be utterly lost when facing a different opponent.
True, however… Funnily enough, Arthur just wasn’t satisfied with that explanation. No, that could not be the only reason. He thought back to the last sessions with Merlin, concentrating on how Merlin fought, the combat techniques he used, and that was when reality hit him head on. Because not only had Merlin gone beyond the ‘moving dummy’ status long ago, but without noticing, Arthur had drilled him in defence and attack, had taught him all the armed combat techniques he knew, had taught him all he knew, had trained him like a knight.
In retrospect, it was obvious. When Arthur trained with Merlin, it was so his own combat techniques could be maintained and bettered, and that was why it was absolutely necessary for Arthur to have a training companion – a capable opponent – who could drive him into a corner and help him overcome his limits. And through an inexplicable miracle, Merlin had become that person and had stayed that person all these years, to an extent that the thought of finding a new, better training partner hadn’t even crossed his mind, because Arthur had never needed one. Merlin was perfectly able to help him improve.
“Sire?”
Leon’s voice pulled him back to the real world and he noticed how he’d stopped moving for a moment, eyes adrift, lost in thought. In the middle of sparring. And now all his knights looked at him in the heavy silence, perplexed. He lifted his eyes to look into Leon’s confused and worried ones.
“Is everything all right, Sire?” the knight asked.
“I need to check something,” Arthur told him, deciding right then and there.
He opened his mouth to call Merlin, and closed it just as quickly when he realised the man was just next to him, as if he’d accidentally called him with his mind, or if he’d guessed Arthur was about to ask him something and he’d already run over to him. Which all things considered was completely possible, actually.
“Merlin, go put on some chainmail,” Arthur ordered.
After he said this, an awkward silence fell on the training grounds. Everyone was watching him with apprehension.
“Me? You want me to put on chainmail? But it’s the knights’ training time, you’re supposed to be tormenting them!” Merlin complained, obviously not happy at the idea of being a training dummy outside the usual sessions.
Arthur rolled his eyes and tried to hide an amused smile. Like every other time Merlin showed, day after day, that he would never follow protocol and act like servants of the king were supposed to, he sent a silent prayer to the gods for bringing Merlin to him. Merlin would probably never know how much Arthur needed him in his life, and not as his manservant.
“You know you’re not supposed to contradict your king, right?” he said in a casual tone, lifting one eyebrow in question.
Merlin shook his head, pretending to think it over. “Never heard of such a rule…,” he said with an innocent expression, eyes sparkling mirthfully.
“And I’m sure you’ll forget that rule again in ten seconds,” Arthur said before stating once again, “Go put on some chainmail, and come back here, Merlin.” He felt the need to add the last bit, in case Merlin suddenly decided to interpret his order creatively.
“Yes, my Lord,” Merlin replied, bowing utterly wrongly with that special talent of his that showed his sarcasm towards any type of protocol.
It made you wonder how Camelot could have survived without drowning in diplomatic incidents ever since Merlin’s arrival, because of course the manservant didn’t make his allergy to protocol known to just Arthur, who couldn’t stop himself from protecting Merlin from the consequences of his insults that – while mostly involuntary – had more than once almost lead him to the gallows. Protecting Merlin from himself took up a significant chunk of Arthur’s daily chores. And yet he would never have wanted things to be any different.
Once Merlin had turned away to follow his order, the knights approached and looked at him insistently, visibly waiting for an explanation for what in the world he was thinking.
Arthur pretended not to notice; after all, he was king so he did what he wanted, first off, and he also wondered which of his knights would give in and openly question his intentions, forgoing protocol. Maybe he also did it to reassure himself that his knights were honest with him and didn’t hesitate to speak their thoughts aloud, especially when they didn’t agree with his actions. Arthur bet it would be Gwaine.
“Is there a specific reason you want to torture Merlin, Sire?” Gwaine asked, pretending indifference.
Bet won.
“I want to check Merlin’s combat skills,” Arthur answered.
“You train with Merlin all the time, don’t you already know what he is capable of?”
“I need a new perspective.”
The knights looked at each other, perplexed, but didn’t insist. It wasn’t like Arthur was going to hurt Merlin, right? And even if it turned out their king had indeed decided to hurt his manservant – no matter how unlikely that seemed – they were here and could stop him from going too far. At least it gave them the opportunity for a break in their drills.
When Merlin came back, clad like he usually was during their training sessions together, he automatically went to get a large shield so he could serve as a target for attack.
“You won’t need that,” Arthur said, stopping him mid-stride, and waved him over.
Once again everyone looked at him with confusion. Merlin obeyed anyway and put the shield down before coming over with bewilderment all over his face.
“If you wanted to kill me, I really didn’t have to go put on chainmail,” Merlin grumbled before halting, uncomprehending, when he saw Arthur was holding out his sword to him. “Oh wow, does that mean I get to strike and you get to run this time?” the manservant said while he took the sword with a big smile. “That’s an excellent idea, Sire. The shield is over there.” He pointed.
“I’m not the one you’re fighting, idiot,” Arthur countered, stepping back with a smirk. “Sir Leon, if you would?” he said in solemn tone, gesturing at the knight to walk over to Merlin.
A long silence answered him during which the knights looked at each other as if he’d sprouted a second head, obviously waiting for him to start laughing and telling them he was jesting. But Arthur only confirmed his words by sharply nodding at the two men. To be honest it was rather amusing to see them all so lost. He couldn’t wait for the faces they would make when they saw Merlin fight.
“Sire, you want me to spar with Merlin?” Leon asked, incredulous.
Merlin on the other hand just sighed and took up his position, having visibly come to the conclusion – rightfully so – that protesting wouldn’t help him. Coming from him, that was rather rare.
“Indeed. Merlin is much more able than he seems, don’t worry,” Arthur confirmed.
Merlin turned to him with lifted eyebrows. “Was that a compliment?”
“I only said you aren’t so incompetent and incapable of synchronising your limbs that you can’t actually walk straight, so yes, you could see that as a compliment if you want,” Arthur said, lifting a mocking eyebrow himself.
Merlin’s eyebrows fell back down. “Of course…”
He took position again facing Leon, who himself hesitantly lifted his sword, apparently still half convinced this was some kind of joke.
“Begin,” Arthur commanded.
The two opponents watched each other. Merlin was focused and ready to block any attack, while Leon noted with much surprise that his stance looked perfect, without openings, and that this didn’t seem to be by accident.
He breathed out, focusing. Arthur would never put Merlin purposefully in a life-threatening situation, he had to have a plan and be confident in Merlin’s abilities. And Leon trusted his king.
Leon attacked.
In spite of himself, though, his movement was tentative and contained, because he didn’t want to hurt Merlin.
Merlin swiftly dodged and his counter-attack was one absolutely perfect blow.
Their swords clashed.
Leon looked on, shocked beyond words, as his sword flew out of his hands and landed on the ground with a sound that, muffled as it was by the sand, echoed in the thick silence that reigned.
“What just happened?” one of the knights next to him murmured, and Arthur couldn’t hide the proud smile painted on his lips.
All the knights stared at Merlin and gaped, finding it hard to believe they had just seen Sir Leon – their leader in Arthur’s absence – get disarmed in one move by the king’s manservant.
Arthur’s smile gained warmth when he realised that, among all present, Merlin looked the most surprised by what just happened.
“As I said,” Arthur interrupted, breaking the silence, “Merlin is much more skilled than he seems, so don’t hesitate in your offence, Sir Leon. Start over.”
Once the shock had passed, Leon picked up his sword and took his place opposite Merlin, this time utterly focused. He had made the mistake of underestimating Merlin and doubting the king’s decision; he wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Seeing that Leon had clearly decided to face him seriously, Merlin shook himself and refocused, since he would have to give it his all if he wanted to last more than a few seconds. The only reason why he’d managed to disarm Leon was because he’d managed to take him by surprise, and that wouldn’t happen again. It wasn’t just by chance that Leon was the best knight in Camelot.
This time when Sir Leon attacked, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation.
Merlin lifted his sword to counter the blow.
Filled with pride Arthur watched as Merlin fought Leon off for a while. While he had first thought that Merlin would lose his composure when confronted with an opponent he’d never faced – since he’d only learned to fight the same person over and over – he was now swiftly disabused of that notion. After the first few seconds, Merlin had adapted without a hitch to Leon’s swordplay, unhesitatingly changing the habits he had learned fighting Arthur.
Beside him the other knights were getting fired up. Shouts of encouragements for both competitors soon started.
“Since when has Merlin been so good at sword fighting?” Percival asked, astonished.
Because not only did Merlin know how to fight, which in and of itself was a big surprise to the knights, but he was really good at it.
Where Leon clearly outmatched him in raw strength and endurance, Merlin compensated with surprising speed and agility, as well as displaying truly amazing reflexes. On top of all that, it became more and more clear as the seconds trickled by that Merlin was every bit as good as Leon when it came to swordsmanship.
The disbelief on Merlin’s face was slowly replaced by a gleeful smile as he overcame his own shock of being able to hold his own with a sword, and started to fully enjoy the fight.
Arthur joined the cheers by shouting advice to help the two men. Well, to be honest, he mostly aimed them at Merlin. All right, he aimed all of them at Merlin, but no one would dare remark upon it.
To be fair, in his defence, it was the first time Arthur could see Merlin use a sword from an outsider’s point of view, and this new viewpoint allowed him to see things he hadn’t noticed before up close, and he would be able to instruct Merlin better during their next training session.
In the end it was Leon’s experience that decided the match a few minutes into the fight, as he stayed his sword just before dealing the blow that would have been fatal on the battlefield.
“I yield,” Merlin announced, out of breath, sporting a large smile.
Leon straightened and lowered his sword, before granting him a clearly impressed smile while everyone else walked up to them to discuss Merlin’s achievement.
“I have to admit you are truly impressive, Merlin,” Leon declared with sincerity. “You would make an excellent knight.”
“And deprive Arthur of his favourite manservant? He would be lost without me,” Merlin immediately answered, absolutely not interested in the offer.
“Yes, I don’t want to think of what a nightmare that would be, my meals would be served on time and my armour would be where it belongs,” Arthur teased.
Deep down, he was relieved that Merlin didn’t show the slightest desire to leave his manservant position. He was right, Arthur would be lost without him, though he would never admit to it out loud.
Merlin held out his sword for him to take back, but Gwaine vigorously protested. “Wait! I want to fight Merlin too!”
Merlin lifted an eyebrow and turned to Arthur, waiting for his approval.
Not that he needed Arthur’s consent to make decisions, but since in this case Arthur seemed to know much more about his combat abilities than him— He still couldn’t fully believe he had managed so long against Leon, even though he should have had a clue since he fought Arthur on a regular basis during their drills, but funnily enough he’d never had the impression he was training— It would be wiser to follow Arthur’s advice and avoid getting unnecessarily injured.
Arthur stared back, a silent question in his gaze. Merlin shrugged, he himself didn’t really mind. Arthur finally nodded and turned to give his permission aloud.
The drills continued, everyone wanting a go at Merlin, until Arthur decided it was becoming too dangerous for him. He didn’t have as much stamina as the knights who were used to wearing their heavy armour continuously and fight in it.
So when a panting Merlin lost his sword to Lancelot, a determined Arthur walked over and declared this was all for today and that training was over.
He leaned down towards Merlin who had collapsed to the ground to regain his breath, and did his best not to look worried.
“Still alive?” he asked in a teasing tone.
Merlin only lifted a thumb as he continued catching his breath. Arthur frowned; a Merlin who wasn’t talking was either an injured or an ill Merlin. Luckily Merlin ended up answering him a few seconds later in a low tone for only Arthur to hear.
“I hope you don’t intend to do this again too often,” he said between two gasps, “because if you thought I was a useless manservant, you’ve got another thing coming—”
Relieved, Arthur smiled widely and even let himself laugh at the taunt. “If you have enough energy to complain then everything’s fine, come on, get up.” Arthur held out a hand to help him stand. And since he loved hearing Merlin complain, he continued once he was standing, “You don’t have time for a nap, I need my armour taken off, my clothes changed, my weapons polished, my dogs walked, my stables mucked out…”
As expected Merlin let out a very unmanly groan and began to complain with renewed fervour.
They headed towards the castle side by side, both having completely forgotten about the knights on the training grounds who watched them go, shaking their heads with indulgent smiles.
They would wait a little before following, because none of them really wanted to become the third wheel. And even they had followed in a group a dozen at time it wouldn’t change a thing – Merlin and Arthur had the singular talent of being able to transform anyone into superfluous wheels the moment they stepped into the same room.
In the months that followed, Merlin joined the knights’ drills on multiple occasions, and his progress was through the roof now that Arthur trained him deliberately.
Funnily enough, these events coincided with the emergence of a number of rumours. One claimed that Camelot’s servants shouldn’t be vexed because they were combat-trained alongside the knights. This was often told alongside the one that claimed the knights of Camelot were so strong it was near impossible to join their ranks, but that the candidates – including those of noble blood – who didn’t manage to reach their level could, if they were lucky, join the servants instead.
Merlin had shaken with uproarious laughter for hours after a young man had come forward to attempt to join the ranks of the knights of Camelot, and had added proudly that he also knew how to sweep floors and muck stables.