Lord Drien was handsome, Merlin had to admit it.
Tall, muscular, with tanned skin and thick, curly hair, a straight nose and grey eyes.
None of this meant he hasn't a horrible man.

It hadn't been so bad when Merlin thought it had been more like banter, the sort of things Arthur and he said to each other, but when after opening with:

"Well, ain't you a scrawny little bean stalk?", Merlin couldn't help but be put off by him.

"So," Drien said, shoving Merlin down the stairs to the dungeons. "What exactly do you do, boy?"

"I'm Prince Arthur's man servant, my Lord," Merlin replied, regaining his balance and trying to keep as little anger out of his voice as possible.

"Ooh, watch out, aren't you fancy? The crown Prince, my my..."

Merlin passed the guards sat in front of the dungeons, started explaining that Drien wanted a tour of the cells, but Drien shoved him out of the way to deal with it himself.

"Blimey," he said roughly as they walked into to dungeons themselves. "You really are a little suck up, aren't you?"

Merlin frowned.

"Excuse me?" He asked.

"Oooh, look at me, I'm the Prince's personal servant and I know everyone in the castle so I'll talk to the guards instead of the actual Lord, even though I'm just a servant..." He said mockingly.

"Well, to be fair, I do know everyone in the castle," Merlin pointed out.

"Hey!" Drien said loudly, pushing Merlin. "You address me as 'my Lord', you little scrat!"

Merlin bit back a retort but could've bring himself to reply without letting his temper take over his mouth, so he kept silent.

"Oi!" Drien grabbed him by the collar and shook him. "Answer me when I speak to you, you ignorant servant!"

"I'm not ignorant", Merlin said.

Drien roared with fury and slammed Merlin into the dungeon wall. His head cracked against the stone and Merlin's vision went a little fuzzy.

"Apologise!" Drien yelled. "Apologise for being a dirty little serving rat who should learn his place!"

"No!" Merlin shouted back, fury and pain radiating through him.
"No Lord of noble blood would treat a servant this way!"

Drien laughed.

"But that's the thing," he snarled, his face an inch from Merlin's, "you are just a servant, so no one actually cares how I treat you. Anyway, your King himself said to treat the staff here as my own, and this is exactly how I treat my own servants."

"Then you shouldn't be allowed to be waited on," Merlin spat. "Not if you think it's okay to treat people like this!"

Drien threw him from the wall to the floor, shouting curses at him. Merlin tried to get up, recieving a swift kick to the ribs. All the wind was knocked out of him, his stomach lurched and lay there wheezing as Drien kicked him again. Merlin tried to cover up, curling into a ball with his hands over his head, and Drien stomped on his hand. Merlin felt his fingers crunch and splinter and he screamed.

"You are nothing more than the dirt on our shoes; you and all servants. You should be beaten if this is usually how you behave!" The Lord yelled. "In fact," Merlin cracked his eyes open and could see a malicious glint in his eye, a twisted grin spreading over his face, "I reckon, for such insolence, I had better make up for you not ever being beaten, right now."