Arthur isn’t sure what’s going on but something is. On Monday, Gwaine is ill, which isn’t unusual because he’s usually hungover. The oddity is Gwaine isn’t in his room or the tavern nursing his hangover in one way or another.
On Tuesday, Leon can’t train due to a sprained ankle. He’s back to training the next day. The next day, Elyan’s sidelined by stomach trouble. Thursday Percival is absent. Friday it’s Lancelot.
Arthur sneaks away from practice on Friday to figure out what’s going on. He follows the sound of voices to the armory.
“Widen your legs,” Lancelot instructs.
“I am,” Merlin whines.
“It’s about balance.”
“This is torture. Just get it over with.”
There’s some grunts and pained sounds. Arthur isn’t sure what’s happening but he doesn’t like it. He shoves the armory door open.
Merlin, dressed in armor that Arthur’s outgrow, is sparring with Lancelot. They both have maces though Merlin’s hangs limply at his side while he rubs a sore spot on his shoulder where Lancelot just hit him. Both men turn quickly when Arthur enters.
“What are you two doing?”
“Sparring,” Merlin answers as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Which it is, when looking at the scene.
“Why?”
Merlin huffs. “It was meant to be a surprise.”
And three weeks later when Merlin manages to disarm a bandit and wield his sword, Arthur is quite surprised.