Seated outside of her workshop, grateful for respite from the arduous labor that smithing required, Guinevere managed to sip water she had collected from the well earlier that morning. The liquid trickled down her throat like a waterfall, and she savored each drop. After drinking all that she was able, she then placed the ladle back into the bucket, and tipped her head back to rest against the wooden wall behind her.
All around her, the steady noise of the lower town served as a backdrop for her thoughts. Easily, she could have slept there, if she were inclined to do so. However, Gwen didn't think much of sleeping on the job. Mustering up enough determination, the former servant to the crown turned future queen rose from her spot, intending to go back to her work. However, urgent hoof beats clattered behind her, giving the woman enough reason for pause.
In this section of the kingdom, very few owned horses, as it was not practical with such limited space to reside. If there were stallions amidst this section of land, then they would have been from the castle, or another portion of Camelot.
Shortly, her curiosity was sated as none other than Merlin rode directly up to her place of business. Without even so much as a greeting, he had dismounted and began tying up his horse to a nearby post. Garbed in laymen's clothes, despite the distinct mount he had ridden in on, he looked like an everyday person, just stopping in for a visit.
Self consciously, Guinevere wiped her hands against the fabric tied round her waist. It was a bit strange, but after the disaster that was her visit last Samhain, she felt ill mannered at best, were she not to give him this common courtesy, at least.
Shortly after he had made certain his horse was all set, she found his eyes locked onto hers.
"Hello Guinevere."
The measured way her name came out, she wondered what exactly the nature of his visit would be. No one but Elyan had bothered to come visit her, and even those meetings were sparse. Their lives followed such divergent paths, which only allowed for visits in between the ways in which they spent the majority of their days.
"Hello Merlin. What brings you this way?"
A sheepish grimace embedded itself into Merlin's facial features. His eyes looked pleading, as if they were asking for something which she may or may not wish to give.
"I was hoping that perhaps you might fashion something for Arthur. From what I hear, you're the best blacksmith around."
The words tumbled out rather quickly, and Gwen was surprised to hear such a compliment from him, given the reception she had last received in his presence. Gone was the defensive man she had been last met with, and there before her was the countenance of someone she had once known before, long ago. If she were one to hold grudges, then perhaps she would've said no. However, given that she and Merlin were friends before Arthur was ever a whisper in either of their minds, she wasn't about to turn him away, even if the way he had acted before had hurt her.
Granted, she understood, to a certain degree. If the timeline she had been given were true, then the relationship between Arthur and Merlin at that point had been relatively new. Her arrival would have given him reason enough to doubt, even if before she had returned, their union was solid.
"What did you have in mind?"
Even though she knew that she wasn't about to bid him farewell, it gave her a momentary bit of satisfaction to act noncommittal.
"A ring."
Now, she understood. No one else could know of this, and it was smart to come to her, because he knew that she wouldn't tell a soul.
"Of course. Describe exactly what you would like, and I'll do my best to have it finished within a fortnight."
So he did, and she had to admit it was a thoroughly thought out gift. The hardest part would be the engraving, but this project presented her with a challenge, and it was something that she would be daft to shirk off. After all, if the King was seen wearing her craftsmanship, then that would do wonders for business.
"Well, I think I've got it all," she said, running over what he had vocalized, whilst she read through the list she had rendered onto the poorly made parchment below her.
"Thank you, Gwen. How much do I owe you for the trouble?"
Gwen mentally stifled a laugh, as he began pulling out a pouch which undoubtedly held more than she would see in a month's earnings. Despite being tempted, even just for a second, she shook her head to decline the offer.
"Not a thing, Merlin. Allow this to be my gift to the both of you. A blessing of sorts, if you will."
Merlin scrutinized her for a moment.
"Are you sure?"
Gwen knew she did well for herself. Her ability to maintain her business said as much. However, given who she was and the curiosity she presented, there were those wary of allowing her to be the one to fashion their metalwork. A bit of extra coin wouldn't hurt her, but on principle, she wouldn't take the crown's money. Not for this, at least.
"Yes, I am."
Nodding towards her, he slipped the pouch back within the folds of his trousers.
"Alright, thank you, Gwen. You're too kind," he responded, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck.
Although their business had concluded, with all but the salutation left, he still did not seem as if he were ready to leave.
"Merlin, is there something else?"
Glancing towards her, Gwen could read the uncertainty in his expression.
"How are you Gwen?"
The question wasn't exactly what she had been expecting, but still, as she did with every other task before her, she rose to the challenge.
"I'm well, Merlin. Thank you for asking."
A tentative smile formed on his face.
"That's good to hear, Gwen. I'm pleased that you're still around, you know. I'm," he paused, before looking at the ground then back up again, "sorry, for the way I acted last year. I hope you can forgive me."
Although still hurt, the echoes of the woman whom used to hold him in the highest regard, couldn't help but see that he did mean what he said. Still, the residual pain stung, as it was wont to do even after all this time.
"Thank you, Merlin. Now, off you go. I will see you in a fortnight."
Merlin nodded, then biting his lip in what seemed to her like apprehension. If he were about to respond, he must have thought better of it, because he nodded shyly before moving to the side of his horse. Easily, he slung himself atop the mount, and soon was off in a minute's time.
This left Guinevere to her thoughts, and the commission she had already begun to wonder whether or not she should have accepted at all.