A/N:
Wow, what a fantastic response I got for chapter 1. I don't believe it (no pun intended, Mr Wilson)! Thank you so much to all of you who favourited, followed and reviewed. To those of you, signed on as guests, and therefore to whom I couldn't reply, thank you from the bottom of my heart as well. You guys all inspire me :O)
Again, please don't feel you have to review, if you'd rather not. But if you do, please feel free to be honest.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin...Shine does...lucky so-and-so's!
Chapter 2
Gwen was in a hurry, as usual. Despite the fact that she no longer had a single mistress - following Morgana's betrayal, coronation and coup – and she no longer had to attend the late Uther, there always seemed to be too much to do, for anyone who needed her help. Whether it was gathering laundry, or fetching ingredients from the market for the head cook, there were too many jobs for too few hands; they had lost so many in battle after battle that the city had been scarred by. Not even servants were spared in the conflicts. Many had been caught in the crossfire, whether as innocent bystanders, or willing participants, defending their homes and families. Many more had fled the city, having decided that travelling through bandit-infested forests, to move in with relatives and friends in faraway villages, was preferable to living in a city that seemed to get very little reprieve before the next strife was upon them.
Every morning, Gwen would report to the castle's head of staff for that day's assignments, and every night, she would go to bed; exhausted but happy. She still had a job - albeit not as Morgana's handmaiden or Uther's nurse - so she could still be useful, and have a roof over her head. Not only that, but she had a man who loved her and she loved him, even though they had to remain careful about how they displayed their affections. Okay, so their kisses in public may be fleeting pecks, and they daren't spend too much time together alone, for fear of tongues wagging...not that she really cared anymore, but Arthur had only recently become King, and had many disapproving nobles to placate, before he could truly do as he pleased.
Yes, all in all, life was good. Well, all except for the fly in the ointment that was her best friend. Gwen couldn't prevent the tiny frown from creasing her forehead, at the thought of the raven-haired young man. He had become something like a little brother to everyone she cared about: Elyan, Gwaine, Percival and all the other knights, but especially Arthur; even though he was so loathe to admit to his closeness towards, what everyone else surreptitiously referred to as, his 'best friend'. She thought back for a moment to the events of that morning, when they had had their very early, impromptu meeting - in Gwaine's quarters, since he was still nursing a substantial hangover, and it was the one place where they could guarantee they wouldn't be disturbed by a certain young manservant.
"I don't know," Gwaine said with a sigh, his hands cradling the steaming cup of tea he had hoped would clear his head, but which only seemed to make it seem fuzzier, and his thoughts harder to grasp than a greased trout in a bowl of jelly. "It just feels wrong, plotting against him like this."
"Oh come on," Elyan drawled. "Are you seriously telling me you haven't been watching him like a mother hen?"
Arthur snorted at this, and Gwaine looked like he was about to protest he was neither a mother hen nor Merlin a chick, but Elyan hadn't finished.
"We all know the only reason Bedivere sliced you in training yesterday is because you couldn't keep your eyes off him."
Gwaine bristled at this, "I hope you're not suggesting..."
"I'm not suggesting anything, other than you care about Merlin as much as the rest of us, and you're as worried about him as we are. Hence why we're here, trying to decide what to do about him."
"But what can we do?" Gwen asked with a heavy sigh. "We can't force him to eat or sleep, believe me I've tried."
"You forced him to eat?" Arthur asked, incredulously, eyebrows raised at the image of Gwen tackling the much taller man, and shovelling food between his teeth.
"No," said Gwen in frustration, "I said I tried. I had a word with Megan."
Arthur shuddered inwardly, as an image of the heavy-set and over-bearing head cook of Camelot's vast kitchen came to mind. Even Kings were entitled to be afraid of something, when suitably motivated, and a woman, armed with a rolling pin, with arms strong enough to give Percival a fair fight in a wrestling match, and a voice that could boom all the way from the armoury to the training field, was motivation enough!
Gwen continued, "She's always nagging Merlin to eat more, and bullying him with food, so I figured if anyone could scare him into doing it, she would."
"And?" Elyan asked, after she paused for too long.
Gwen shook her head. "No good - she told me yesterday she's seen neither hide nor hair of him for the last week. I think he's purposely avoiding her."
"And I've tried getting him to catch up on his sleep, by giving him the night off," Arthur added, pleased to see it draw an affectionate smile on Gwen's soft lips, "But he still looks like he's been up all night the next morning. Gods, but what is he doing with his spare time?"
"You mean, apart from catching up on all the chores you keep piling on him, Princess?" Gwaine sneered, only marginally joking.
"He's my manservant, Sir Gwaine," Arthur growled back, "he's supposed to do whatever I tell him to...it's his job."
"Oh come off it, your highnessness, I'm not the first person to notice how hard you are on the kid, and I certainly won't be the last!" Gwaine had put his cup down, in order to bang the table with both fists, making Gwen jump with a gasp. He looked at her apologetically, but then returned to glaring at the King. "It's like you're constantly trying to punish him for something. Breathing, perhaps?"
"I am not!" Arthur snapped, folding his arms like an admonished child, and leaning back in his chair, to which Gwaine tutted. Arthur looked around at the others, hoping for some support, but they all looked away from his gaze, fidgeting uncomfortably in the ensuing silence. He looked back to Gwaine, who raised a smug eyebrow.
"Well this is all very revealing," Arthur said eventually, taking back some control over the discussion, "But we're allowing ourselves to get diverted from the subject of our meeting: what are we going to do about Merlin?"
The room grew quiet again, until Gwen eventually spoke. "Well one thing's for sure: the subtle approach doesn't seem to be working. We'll have to try something more...direct." She caught the gaze of each of them in turn. "One of us will have to make him tell us what's wrong."
Arthur shook his head. "I don't know, Gwen. Merlin's not really the 'sharing all his secrets' type. And anyway, maybe he just needs to be left alone, to iron out his problems by himself...usually works for me." He shrugged.
"Um, well, actually," Gwen began, twisting her hands together in her lap. "If anything's bothering you, Arthur, you generally take it out on a training dummy."
"Not always. Sometimes, I-"
"...pummel us on the training ground for several hours," Elyan suggested, a small, sly smile turning the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, but I have to-"
"...more often than not, bash Merlin about with a sword..." Gwaine cut in.
"...or a mace..." Elyan added, looking at Gwaine, who nodded in confirmation.
"...or a goblet..." Gwen put in her contribution, with wry smile, to which her co-conspirators snickered.
"...until he's a quivering wreck!" Gwaine finished.
At this, Arthur raised a finger and drew in a breath, ready to utter an indignant protest, until he caught a glimpse of the knowing, smirking faces surrounding him, and swallowed the words back down. He looked round at them with a hint of contrite in his eyes, before looking down at the hands he had folded in his lap. "Sometimes, I don't," he said at last, in a mildly plaintive voice, that sounded not unlike a five-year-old that had been admonished for breaking a pot after horsing around. "Sometimes I go hunting."
"Huh, dragging Merlin with you," Gwaine said.
"He doesn't mind," Arthur rebutted, folding his arms across his chest, as he leaned back in his chair.
"Apart from all the moaning, you mean?" Elyan said, with a chuckle.
"And the bickering, you two do," Gwen said, glancing sideways at Arthur.
"Now hang on," Arthur said, raising his voice, his face hardening, "whose side are you on?"
"MERLIN'S!" they all shouted.
"And so, are you," Gwen laid a gentle hand on his arm.
Arthur gave her a sad smile, before lifting her hand from his arm to his lips, and placing a soft kiss on her fingers. Gwen returned the smile, holding his gaze, until Gwaine interrupted with a loud - and rather slurpy-sounding - bit of throat clearing. Arthur frowned at him, but didn't let Gwen's hand go, pulling it over to rest beneath his own on his knee, instead.
"So, what you're all trying to say is that Merlin's moodiness is my fault, because I bully him; is that it?"
"Maybe," Gwaine said, at the same time as Gwen offered:
"No, of course not!"
The two looked at each other, and Gwaine rolled his eyes, before turning away, reluctantly conceding the point.
"Okay, perhaps not entirely," he said, then quickly added, "but you could be a bit nicer to him."
"I am nice!" Arthur protested, eyebrows raised along with his voice.
"One thing...name one 'nice' thing you've done for him recently," Gwaine said, raising a finger to emphasise his point.
"..."
"Exactly!" the rogue knight said, folding his arms and legs as he leaned back in his chair; a triumphant grin slashing his face in half.
"Uh...I was about to say that only yesterday, I helped him carry my armour back from training," Arthur said.
"Oh, you mean that spare helmet?" Gwaine said.
"That you made Merlin go all the way back to your room for," Elyan added.
"...Because your usual one had a big dent in it," Gwaine continued.
"...After you threw it at Merlin and missed," Elyan pointed out.
"...Because he didn't have time to polish it," Gwaine said.
"...As he was up all night polishing all our boots."
"What are you two, some sort of double act?" Arthur burst in, flinging his hands in the air.
"You made Merlin polish all the knights' boots?" Gwen turned to Arthur, shocked; pulling her hand back from under his.
"It was his punishment," Arthur said, his voice rising nearly an octave.
"For what?" Gwen asked with a small frown.
"Bringing my breakfast late..."
"Arthur!" Gwen admonished.
"...for the third morning in a row," he said, trying to justify himself.
"No!" Gwaine said, slapping his palm to his own cheek, feigning shock. "How dare the bad servant withhold vital nourishment from the underfed King! Why, you must have been wasting away in that time, sire."
Elyan put a hand over his mouth to stifle a snigger, and lowered his gaze to the floor, avoiding the King's glare just in time.
"Might even have to start using the original holes on your be-"
"I think that's quite enough, Gwaine," Arthur said with a small growl. "You forget who you're speaking to."
"Erm, maybe we should get back to the topic of this conversation, anyway," Elyan suggested calmly.
"Yes, well," Gwaine continued, with a flick of his hair, "We still have no idea why Merlin's not been the life of the party recently. For all we know, it could be something entirely simple and easily dealt with, like...oh I don't know...a girl or something?"
"A girl?" Arthur said with a disbelieving sneer.
"Well, why not? He's a man, isn't he? And not a bad looking one - though not as gorgeous as me, of course!" A collection of eyes around the table rolled. "Maybe he just needs the advice of an expert?"
"Well that rules you out then, doesn't it," Elyan retorted with a smirk.
Gwaine blatantly ignored him. "And I've got the perfect solution." All eyes turned to him with anticipation. "There's this new barmaid at the Frog and Duck," he indicated a voluptuous female form with his hands, to which Gwen pouted and sighed. "All he needs is a few drinks to relax him and-"
"Is that really your answer to everything, Gwaine: get drunk?" Elyan said exasperatedly.
Gwaine looked blank. "Works for me."
"Figures!" Elyan said bluntly.
"Meaning?" Gwaine rounded on his friend.
"Okay, if you two could stop snapping at each other like a couple of old sows," Arthur cut in sarcastically, "We could ask an adult to handle this."
Gwaine looked like a sulky child. "But that idea was one of my best - I've been thinking about it for at least the last ten minutes."
"Wow, you managed to coax that inebriated brain of yours to do something other than find the next drink and ogle women for once?" came Elyan's sarcastic remark, to which Gwen giggled behind the hand she had raised to her mouth.
"Ha ha, you can be so funny, when you're not sticking your head up the your own sanctimonious ar-"
"GWEN, suggestions?" Arthur bellowed through gritted teeth.
Gwen frowned, twisting her mouth to one side, as she thought hard.
"Maybe Gaius knows something we don't?" Elyan put in.
Gwen shook her head vehemently, her curls bobbing around her shoulders. "I've already tried asking him. Gaius doesn't know what's wrong with him - not for want of trying - and is consequently as worried as we are. Apparently, we're not the only ones Merlin no longer wishes to confide in." Doleful eyes all round suddenly found the surface of the table riveting to behold.
A bang of a fist to the table drew gasps from the three, who looked up to their King's tight-jawed face. "This is ridiculous!" Arthur said irritably. "I should be able to have a conversation with my own damn servant, if I want one! I'll talk to him tonight, and he WILL answer me this time." He banged his fist on the table again, to emphasise his point.
Three faces stared back at him, with expressions ranging from anxiety to incredulity. "What, you think I can't talk to my own frie...manservant?"
"You were right the first time, Princess," Gwaine drawled with a half-smirk. "He's your friend - just you remember that!" He waved a finger at Arthur's face.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Arthur said, angrily, rounding on the rakish knight.
Gwen put a hand on his arm, "Arthur, please. Just promise me you'll be gentle with him, that's all?"
Arthur looked at her indignantly. "Aren't I always?" He ignored Gwaine's derisive snort.
Gwen sighed as she drew herself out of her reverie, and hefted the basket of laundry higher on her hip. She wondered, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, whether Arthur had had the opportunity to speak to Merlin yet - given how the dark-haired man was avoiding company as much as possible these days - and how he had got on. They had arranged to meet again in the morning, to discuss what he had - hopefully - found out, but tomorrow seemed like far too long to wait for his report. She hoped he'd at least had the patience to allow Merlin to let all his woes out, and finish speaking, rather than cutting him off with his usual brash, bravado silliness (typically involving calling Merlin a girl, punching him in the arm, or sending him off to do another chore, that could in all honesty wait until a more appropriate time, just so that he could avoid dealing with emotions that were higher than ground level). Not for the first time, Gwen cursed the luck that had bestowed Arthur with an absent mother and a father who had the emotional range of a hairbrush, and who had done his utmost to pass on his skills in the field to his only son.
The dark-haired maid increased her pace, and rounded the next corner, only to be sent flying by a flash of brown, blue and red. Gwen gasped as she dropped her basket, and fell to the floor. The man stumbled, but managed to prevent himself from falling in a heap as well, by dropping the bucket he held, and grabbing onto a conveniently-placed windowsill. After steadying himself, he reached down and hauled the girl to her feet, stuttering apologies. He looked up for the first time then, and on seeing who he had barged into, he blushed and lowered his eyes.
"Err sorry, Gwen," he mumbled, and immediately turned away, to begin picking up and roughly folding the laundry items that had escaped Gwen's basket.
"I..it's okay, Merlin, I..." Gwen looked at his face a little longer, and cut herself off. Were those tear tracks down his pinched cheeks? It had been a while since she had had a close look at him, and to say she was shocked at the sight of his moist, dark-ringed eyes was an understatement. And his skin seemed even paler than usual, as if all the colour had been drawn out through his eyes; leaving a vacant pool. Her heart clenched with sympathy for her friend's malaise. "M..Merlin, are you alright? Is there anything I ca-"
"I'm fine, Gwen," Merlin cut her off sharply, with a large sniff; still avoiding her gaze. "Just...um...coming down with a cold, is all." He looked down at the basket he still clutched in his arms, and shoved it to her chest. Her hands automatically came up to grasp it, while his fell limply back to his sides.
"You know you can always talk to me about anything that's bothering you," she said, cautiously, putting on her most empathetic smile, despite her growing concern. How could his mood have sunk this low?
"Um, thanks," Merlin said, fidgeting from foot to foot, and pulling at the fraying cuffs of his sleeves. He raised his head and gave her the briefest of smiles, that barely twitched the corners of his mouth, but travelled no further. "Sorry, gotta go...um...things to do for the King." And with that, he was gone, like a hunted deer.
Gwen stared down the corridor after him, her mouth hanging open, until he rounded the next corner, and disappeared from view. That did it; she couldn't wait a minute longer to speak to Arthur about what had gone on in his little heart-to-heart with Merlin - if he had even had it - never mind until morning. It was obvious from Merlin's face that something had happened - she wasn't buying that cold-coming-on lie for a second - and she had a horrible feeling, clenching at her stomach, that Arthur had spoken to him, and things hadn't gone entirely to plan.
Looking down, she realised that in his haste to get away, Merlin had forgotten his bucket. With a heavy sigh, Gwen bent to pick it up, shifting the basket higher on her hip to balance herself. She hurried down the corridor towards Arthur's chambers.
