A/N: Wow, I finished the first chapter of this faster than I thought! Anywho, this is the sequel to my Merlin fanfic entitled "May I?," so please read that if you haven't already. I doubt all of my updates will be this fast; I just started actually putting effort into this story when I learned that people actually wanted to read it, so the going will be kinda slow. The title of this piece is a line from the Snow Patrol song "The Golden Floor:"
Dark shape on a golden floor…
Sleeping planet with a molten core.
I thought it sounded cool, plus it fits the story (as you'll hopefully see later). Enjoy!
As usual, I don't own Merlin. Although I really wish I did. *sigh*
It had been months since she'd been in a city as big as Camelot. Arien was rather worried about the level at which her skills as a bard would be assessed while she was here, but she knew that she would never excel if she didn't challenge herself.
The past year or so had been a whirlwind of events that had made Arien feel more complete as a person. She'd seen quite a bit of the world, had rotting food thrown at her, been praised, and had almost fallen in love again. Remembering the last thing, she shook her head, wishing that those memories could somehow simply fly out of her mind via her ears. Her naïveté had tricked her into thinking that it was love at the time, but memories of a dear friend of hers from Camelot had helped her sort out the ordeal. And ultimately, that's most of the reason why I'm here, she told herself honestly.
Arien walked the streets of Camelot, heading towards the house of Aurelia, a friend whom she had stayed with during the months she had spent in Camelot. She knocked on the door and was greeted by the unfamiliar and unshaven face of a middle-aged man. "Whaddaya want?" he slurred.
"Um, a friend of mine lived here about a year ago. Her name was Aurelia—do you happen to know if she's still in Camelot?" Arien inquired, taking a step away from the man.
"Left months ago to live with some guy," the man mumbled.
Arien was almost sure who her friend had left her home for. "Thank you, sir," she said, already walking away.
Of course! I knew it; I even said it myself a few times! How could I be foolish enough to not think of it first? Arien chided herself.
The house she was looking for was not very far from Aurelia's. Arien was not as familiar with this location, but she found what she believed to be the correct door and knocked on it with almost unshakeable certainty. Aurelia would most likely be there—it was late enough in the day for her to be done with work. But it was not Aurelia who answered the door—it was a tall, lithe man with blonde hair. "Hello, I'm…ah, here to see Aurelia, if she's in," Arien stated.
"She is," the man replied. "But…may I know your name?"
"Arien the bard, formerly Arien of Greendale," she informed him cheerfully.
The man grinned. "Aurelia will be delighted to see you. Come in, Arien."
Arien followed him through another room and into the kitchen where a woman was diligently stirring the contents of a pot. "I'll take care of that," the man said to her, lightly kissing her head. "Someone's here to see you."
The woman turned around. "Arien!" she cried, embracing her friend. "I was hoping you'd return sooner, but I'm not about to complain now that you're here!"
"It's wonderful to see you, Aurelia," Arien responded—and she truly was overjoyed to see Aurelia. However, her friend's marriage made her wonder what else had changed. Aurelia and her husband, Omar, had taken their relationship very slowly, but Arien was well aware that in the year she had been gone, everyone in Camelot could have changed just as much as she had—or more.
When she saw the slight bulge near Aurelia's midsection, Arien realized just how much she'd missed. "How long?" she asked.
"I'm about six months along," Aurelia replied, practically glowing with joy. "After you missed the wedding, we hoped that you'd come back in time for the birth. Do you think you could stay that long?"
Arien smiled. "If you don't mind, I plan on staying here for a while. There are many things that I missed about Camelot."
"Was Merlin one of them?" Aurelia asked slyly.
"He was at first—very much, in fact," Arien confessed. "But time passed and…my feelings for him changed. After what we went through, I could never stop loving Merlin. I love him differently now, though—as I'd love a brother or a friend."
Aurelia frowned. She'd seen the relationship between Arien and Merlin. They'd both been so in love with one another; it definitely hadn't been something that could be left behind. Aurelia suspected that there was an unlit flame between those two—and plenty of oil and wood for it to begin.
Camelot was alive with celebration. King Uther had declared that there be a feast in honor of the restoration of the kingdom after the attacks of the Great Dragon, who had mysteriously escaped from his underground prison. There was food, dancing—and a ridiculous amount of work for Merlin. Although Kilgharrah was gone, Merlin couldn't force himself into a celebratory mood. He'd been dragging his feet for the whole celebration, eagerly anticipating the moment when everything would be over and he could go to bed—which looked like it would be relatively soon.
Merlin looked over at Arthur, who was talking to a young woman. Merlin had been positive that she didn't work in Camelot, but he'd caught glimpses of her walking around the hall tonight, taking on the duties of a servant. She reminded him of someone, though he was unable to recall who. "Merlin!" Arthur called, beckoning Merlin towards him.
He hurried over to Arthur, curious about who his master would be talking to. "I don't believe that an introduction is necessary," Arthur said to Merlin.
The woman turned to look at Merlin. "I hope not. It's only been a year," she added.
Merlin had recognized her the moment she'd turned around. "Arien!" he exclaimed, embracing her. She'd left Camelot about a year ago in order to pursue her dream of being a bard and had promised Merlin that she'd return one day. "I thought you forgot," Merlin admitted.
"Merlin, I couldn't forget you!" Arien promised him, looking up at him warmly. "I've just gotten so swept up in everything that there is to see that I didn't think of returning until recently. As soon as you're done for the night, we need to talk—I want to know about everything that's happened since I left."
Merlin glanced over at Arthur. "Go," Arthur told him. "But be ready early tomorrow."
"Thanks, Arthur," Merlin muttered, smiling. To Arien, he said, "And I'd love to know what the life of a bard is like."
"Oh, believe me, you'll hear," she replied, smiling mischievously as they walked away from the crowds. "But I asked first, so you get to tell me first. I don't care how long it is—I want to know even the most insignificant occurrences."
"Well, you've missed some…interesting things," Merlin began before telling Arien everything that had happened in the past year. When he began to tell her of Balinor, he felt his eyes grow wet with tears. "Sorry, didn't think it'd be this hard," he muttered, trying to discreetly wipe his eyes.
"It's all right," Arien murmured, embracing him. "This must be awful for you—having to come here and celebrate so soon afterwards."
Merlin nodded and blinked away the rest of his tears before finishing his tale. "Seems I picked the worst possible time to leave Camelot," Arien remarked. "Uther fell in love with a troll, Arthur nearly eloped with Lady Vivian, you became a Dragonlord, Aurelia is with child…there's no end to it all!"
"Oh, I'm sure something of interest will happen while you're here. It never stays quiet for long in Camelot," Merlin remarked lightly.
Arien sighed. "If anything does happen, I hope it's not quite as thrilling as what I went through when I was here last. That's…a bit more of a thrill than I want," she confessed, gently touching a spot on her left arm just above the elbow. "D'you still have the scar?" he wondered
"It's faded a bit, but…yes. I've learned to cover it up—when people notice that your initial is scarred into your arm, they want to hear a story and since I'm a bard…well, I'm expected to tell. No matter how personal it is," she explained.
"Is it always like that?" Merlin inquired.
"Usually," Arien began. "But it's unlikely that I'll see any of my listeners again and sometimes I…twist the truth a bit. The way I tell it, it sounds more like I was ambushed in a dark alley than captured by my deranged fiancé for half a week."
Merlin grinned. "The mark of a true bard. Do you have anything else of interest that happened?" he asked.
"Hmm, where to begin?" Arien pondered rhetorically. "The first thing I had to do was learn to play the harp, which isn't very exciting. Then, when I was good enough to play on my own, a number of things happened—I visited my family, learned to dance, almost let my emotions get the best of me, and learned about the importance of defending myself. What do you want to hear about first?"
"Start at the beginning," Merlin suggested.
"All right," she began. "Well, as soon as I was skilled enough to fend for myself, I decided that the first place I wanted to go was home, since I hadn't seen my family in months. That was less than two months after we—parted, and at the time, it wasn't easy for me. After I told my family about everything that happened, it got better—they told me that I had plenty of time to do as I pleased. I stayed with them for a few weeks before really starting my travels.
"I think the third village I stayed in after Greendale was my favorite—the people there were so kind! When I told them I couldn't dance, everyone in the inn took it upon themselves to teach me," she explained, smiling warmly at the memory. "That was what I used to motivate myself when things weren't so easy."
"What happened?" Merlin inquired.
Arien rolled her eyes and smiled a lifeless smile. "It hurts to talk about, but I can't use that as an excuse. You told me about Balinor and Freya—but mine is a different pain than yours," she clarified. "For a while, I thought I was enjoying myself more than I had since Camelot. Of course, I was involved with a master illusionist—Cadell.
"I met him the first night I was in Valdren. After everyone had tired of my singing and storytelling, we talked for at least an hour and I went to bed feeling loved. I remained in Valdren for over a week because of him—fool that I was, I thought he was looking for the same thing I was. But that's not what men seek when they romance a bard. When they do so, it's not true romance—only the…ah, physical pleasures that a woman can offer."
Arien was looking down, trying to collect herself. It had been several months since the Cadell incident, but she still felt like an ignorant child who had been cheated whenever her thoughts turned in his direction. Sensing her sorrow, Merlin wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. "It must be horrible, finding out that you've been used like that," he murmured.
Under his sadness, he felt anger boiling. How could a man dare to use Arien—or anyone—so flippantly?
"'Horrible' isn't even the beginning. When I realized what he had in mind, I left immediately." Arien paused momentarily and shook her head before continuing, "Never mind that—I left after the worst argument of my life. It made every time I fought with my brothers look pathetic—even worse than when I told you I was betrothed," she elucidated.
Merlin's eyebrows arched. "We weren't screaming at one another. And you never pushed me into a wall," she told him matter-of-factly. "It was awful, but twas better than keeping it inside and pretending that I would allow myself to be used like that. Since then, I've been stronger. That was the moment when I decided that I needed to know how to protect myself. Cadell didn't force himself upon me outrightly, but his actions opened my eyes. Other men have…a severe lack of self-control and spend their days waiting for young, unprotected women to take advantage of."
"Wow," muttered Merlin.
"Excellent choice of words," Arien replied with a quick grin. "I haven't been able to condense my experiences any more accurately than that."
He'd been watching her since the beginning of the evening. Her face wasn't a difficult one to pick out, especially when it took the place of Aurelia's. Arien was considerably more beautiful, which had been somewhat of a shock to him—her personality had been described to him in such negative terms that he'd subconsciously assumed that her appearance would be equally obnoxious.
Of course, he wasn't about to protest—his task would be all the simpler since Arien was so attractive. Pretending to love such a woman would come to him as naturally as breathing. However, her willingness to accept his advances would be a completely different thing, he realized as he saw her walk off with a dark-haired young man.
When he saw the man's face, he nearly laughed aloud.
Merlin? Prince Arthur's klutzy manservant? That is who I was concerned about?
He was vaguely aware of Arien and Merlin's romantic history; it was entwined with the scheme he was a part of. However, they'd only had a true relationship for about a month—not enough time to form a lasting bond.
He stood and waited, watching Arien leave the room with Merlin. Several minutes later, she re-entered alone. This was his moment. He walked swiftly towards her, brushing her hand with his as he walked by. She stopped and turned in his direction.
"Forgive me. I'm…it's late and I was not watching my step closely enough," he apologized.
"Twas only an accident, Sir; there is nothing to forgive," she replied demurely, curtsying.
She was being too courteous already. "I am Sir Einar, Knight of Camelot. May I have your name?" he inquired, taking care not to sound overly flirtatious.
"Arien, my lord," she told him, curtsying again.
Curse these formalities. "Well, Arien, I hope to see you again soon."
"Very well, my lord," she said, curtsying again before taking her leave.
Her heart's about as malleable as a thousand-year-old stone, he realized bitterly. She was not going to accept his advances easily; she was wise enough to understand that many men who spoke frequently with women below their station were seeking mistresses, not love. Einar was seeking neither. His purpose was one of revenge.
Arien quietly opened the door to Aurelia and Omar's house and tiptoed to the spare chamber she'd be staying in until she left Camelot or found another place to stay. She'd worked for Aurelia at the banquet, but found herself less exhausted than she normally was after a night of barding. Perhaps it was because she didn't have to pour her soul into her work—she only needed to accomplish what was expected.
Everyone in the kitchen had remembered Arien, which had made her feel appreciated until she realized that they all knew her name because of what was now known as "the bread incident." Of course it would be easy to remember a servant who managed to make bread explode—people like that were rare gems, Arien realized sardonically.
And then there was Merlin. She could tell he was different; the things that had happened to him in the past year weighed heavily on him. Before she'd listened to Merlin's story, Arien had felt quite sorry for herself—she'd let one love go and been used by another (who hadn't quite been hers to begin with) within the space of a year, which would seem like a tragedy to any other young woman.
After hearing what had happened to Merlin, Arien's sorrows over Cadell seemed foolish. Merlin had found someone whom he loved and could relate to…and she'd been taken from him. He'd played the role of a classic hero, doing everything within his power to save her. And Freya's still dead, Arien realized bitterly.
She felt no jealousy—after all, Merlin had been as free as she had to develop feelings for others. The only negative thing that Arien felt towards Freya was the fact that Arien could never give Merlin what Freya had. She was an ordinary woman; Freya, like Merlin, had had the gift of magic. Even if things change, he'll miss that, Arien realized. Quite honestly, I hope they don't.
Emptiness had been consuming Merlin's life of late. It wouldn't have been so awful if it had been in small increments, like it would be for a normal person. But I've never been normal, he thought bitterly.
First, Arien had left, which he'd eventually been able to accept—she was off doing something that gave her joy and his feelings for her had dimmed from love into friendship. Then Freya…
She'd made him feel so many things in their short time together; though their relationship had barely begun, he felt as if they'd loved more than many people thrice their age. Of course, that had ended all too quickly.
And lastly, Balinor. Merlin had been used to living without a father—the taunts and awkward stares that had accompanied him throughout his life were just another fact of his existence. He'd known the joy of having a father—only briefly, though, before it was snatched from him by some foul men. He would have rather heard of his father's death before knowing him. Even the few hours they spent in one another's company taunted Merlin—he'd just grasped what most people have for half a lifetime before it was snatched away from him.
Maybe things would change with Arien's reappearance. Perhaps this had just been one cycle of misery that would be reversed now that Arien had brought Merlin back to the beginning of it all. But I don't feel that way, he realized. And it'd only make me more miserable to pretend that I love her when I really don't.
Still. Arien had a way of bringing life and light to everything around her—and she seemed even more vibrant after living as a bard for a year. Besides, she'd experienced awful things—differently awful that what Merlin had been through, but it gave her more empathy than anyone else Merlin knew. She understood his feelings better than anyone else, which made her easy to talk to—even if it was only as a friend.