Extension (aren't they always) from Season 3 Episode 7 (I think), "The Castle of Fyrien"... Let me know if it's worth continuing. Ciao xx


There was a knock on the door.

"Guinevere!" Arthur started, not expecting her.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't just turn up like this…"

He graciously invited her in, strolling over to rest against the window.

"Everyone's talking about your marriage to Elena." Oh by all means, remind me of what I'm trying to avoid, Arthur grumbled mentally with an audible sigh. "I know you said that it isn't what you wanted…" he heard Gwen go on. You think? Marrying that…uncouth thing whilst my heart belongs to another?

"And I also know that you can't always have what you want. I know that very well." Gwen got all choked up, causing the blonde to glance over in empathy with his friend.

Arthur let loose another sigh. "Is what I want really all that insane?" he questioned, frustrated that so much suffering was caused by the stifling traditions meant to support Camelot, rather than doing the present opposite.

"Yes Arthur." I suppose she's right. How could I be in love with a servant? It's completely improper. But…I can't help how I feel. "From anyone's perspective apart from…yours and mine."

she knows? And…she doesn't care?

"It's completely insane."

Ouch.

"Then I'm happy being insane. Do you know what's better than being miserable?" he asked her, dark, soft hair a prominent feature in his mind.

"She won't make you miserable," Gwen told Arthur, not sounding quite entirely convincing or certain. "She's got a good heart."

"As do you." Arthur shot back, not wanting to miss out on a chance to comfort his friend who'd been hurting since her father's death, try as she might to hide it.

"We both know it can't be." I know…doesn't mean I can't long for it though…

"If I marry her, what will he do?"

Arthur saw Gwen tense, confusion spread over her features. "He?"

"Merlin, of course." He gave her a puzzled look, wondering what she must have been talking about.

"I…I was talking about u-us. About our love…"

He couldn't help it. The shocked snort just flew from his mouth in a rip of sound. Us? Our love? She thinks…what?

"Arthur?" Gwen's eyes were filling with tears, and whilst he regretted hurting her it was better than finding out later.

"Gwen…Guinevere…there is no us. I love…I want…Merlin. I thought you knew that, I thought you knew what we were talking about." Trying to be gentle, and with the soothing manner in which one would approach a frightened horse, Arthur approached the now openly weeping girl.

It was too late. His hip bumped into the table and it scraped across the floor, tearing apart any semblance of calm he'd managed to imbue. Gwen fled from the room, sobs echoing down the corridor.

With a frustrated sigh, Arthur threw a goblet down to the floor in irritation, flopping on his bed whilst trying to figure out how best to deal with this.


Merlin saw Gwen running from Arthur's room crying, and heard the consequent and oh so familiar clang of one of his freshly polished chalices being flung against stone. Stupid prat probably did the noble thing and try to let the maidservant down gently in favour of Princess Elena, but broken her heart instead. Right thing to do for Camelot and all that load of horse manure.

Still. Was it really necessary to take it out on his gleaming silverware? Git.

Merlin pushed open the door to the prince's chambers, eyes narrowed and on the lookout for any more of his hard work flying around or getting scratched up. With a dismissive grunt towards Arthur's form on the bed, the young sorcerer grumbled as he picked up the goblet, now resplendent with a massive dent in one side and a scratch through the royal crest.

"Fix it, would you, Merlin?" Arthur's voice groaned at him from the other side of the room.

With a flare in his magic that made his eyes burn gold and fireplace leap a little higher, Merlin whirled on his friend. In a deceptively calm voice, he asked, "Arthur, how long do you think it takes to polish a fork?"

Arthur snorted at him, guessing with a smirk on his face that it'd only take 5 seconds to wipe it down.

Narrowing his piercing gaze even more, he then asked, "And how long do you reckon it takes to polish a goblet, then?"

"10, maybe? I really don't care, Merlin, just do your job."

Merlin threw a fit. It took a full minute to properly polish a fork after being cleaned and dried, approximately 5 minutes to do a goblet, paying special attention to the nooks and crannies imbued in the metal of the design. But to fix a dent and a scratch through the ornamentation? Hours. Hours for a single bloody goblet that stupid Arthur Pratdragon deigned to through at the floor in a mantrum. Hours that he could spend doing any number of the dollophead's other menial tasks. Hours of work with no recognition and no gratitude.


Arthur was getting mildly amused. Merlin's entrance had provided him with some other focus than feeling sorry for poor Gwen, a rather riveting distraction as the boy babbled about polishing crockery or whatever whilst his eyes blazed a furious blue, lips parting prettily as they formed the insults and complaints hurled at his royal personage.

Wait…Pratdragon? MERLIN!


To (maybe) be continued :o Review? Pretty please?