A/N: I feel like I should apologize for not publishing last week. But maybe that's because I'm a chronic apologizer. Oh well—either way, I feel bad for not posting last week, but hopefully this chapter will be good enough to make up for it. And a quick note—the poem/song in this chapter is mine. Yes, it's a Shakespearean sonnet and yes, I'm aware that it's not in iambic pentameter. This is because although I'm a lit geek, I really don't like the flow of iambic pentameter; it just sounds wrong to me. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter, despite my poem's lack of iambic pentameter. ;)
As usual, I don't own Merlin (although if I did, I guarantee I'd be the happiest girl on earth); it's the property of BBC/NBC/SyFy/Arthurian legend writers.
She moved too gracefully for a servant—no one would believe for one moment that such a girl had spent her life within the walls of Camelot. Arien was rich, cultured, and strong—qualities that were not present in sheltered women. Einar was pleased that he'd been selected by Sargon before Uther had learned of Sargon's…activities. Everyone who had ever told him that his charm could only get him so far would be proven wrong.
He strode nonchalantly in her direction. "You're looking quite fresh, even after last night," he remarked, trying to keep flirtation out of his tone.
"Well, it's my job," Arien responded briskly, barely looking at Einar.
"I wonder, Arien," he began. When he saw that he held her attention, he continued, "I wonder which is colder—the stone walls of Camelot or your heart."
She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm sure that anyone with honorable intentions would find both of them most inviting," she informed him levelly, beginning to walk away.
"Wait!" he called after her, grasping her fingertips before they slipped away. "Arien, you seem…enchanting, and there is but one thing I want from you—"
"I know what you want," she snapped, pulling away from him. "A girl you can come crying to on the nights when 'my solitude is too heavy and my bed too empty.' I refuse to be that—for you or any other man."
"That isn't what I meant at all, Arien," he murmured humbly. "I want to understand you—as a person and as a woman. The word in Camelot is that you've been a traveling bard for the past several months. Would you care to tell me of your adventures?" he asked.
Perhaps he's not a self-seeking pig, Arien wondered. There's no harm in speaking with him.
"Very well," she began. "My first real adventure was in the fifth town I went to…"
Merlin managed to glimpse Arien over the enormous stack of Arthur's laundry he was carrying. She was talking quite animatedly with a knight. He must've been relatively new; Merlin couldn't recall his name. "Arien!" he called, attempting to wave at her.
She said something to the man she was talking to before hurrying over to Merlin. "Good Lord, if the wind blows the wrong way, you'll fall over! Let me help you with that," she said, taking some of the dirty clothes from his arms. "I see that some things never change," Arien added wryly."
"Nope," Merlin responded with as much goodwill as he could muster. "Who was that you were talking to?" he asked a moment later.
"His name's Sir Einar and apparently he's quite new here in Camelot. At first, I thought he was just looking for a woman to tumble when he wasn't otherwise occupied, but I think he might be worth talking to," Arien told him.
"Oh," remarked Merlin, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"If we weren't carrying the prince's clothing, I think I'd elbow you right now," Arien said playfully.
"Why?" Merlin asked, feigning innocence.
She nudged his ankle with her foot. "You know perfectly well. There's nothing there, Merlin."
"Not yet, you mean," he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear.
"Consider yourself lucky that my arms are full."
"So, Arien's back in Camelot," Arthur said theatrically. "I wonder…just how long will it be before she falls back into your arms?"
"Doesn't seem likely," Merlin replied nonchalantly. "I'm fine without her and she's…looking at other people."
Arthur's brow immediately furrowed at Merlin's cavalier attitude. A year ago, he'd been so deeply in love with Arien that he had spent almost all of his free time with her; when she left to become a bard, Merlin had been completely miserable for the best part of two months. It was impossible that he would so easily accept her loving another man. "And who is this fellow?" Arthur inquired.
"Some new knight. Sir Einar, she told me," Merlin replied, grinning with innocent malice.
No words could describe how shocked Arthur was. "So you're telling me that Arien of Greendale, the love of your life, the beat of your heart, your other half, is flirting with a knight of Camelot…and it doesn't bother you?" he wondered.
"Not a bit," Merlin responded lightly.
Arthur shook his head. "If you think you're going to find someone else with…oh, functional eyes and a brain who fancies you…well, think about it, Merlin."
"Who said I needed someone? We're not all insecure little prats like you who need a woman to run to if we get nicked by a sword!" Merlin defended himself.
Arthur's eyes flashed momentarily. "At least I'm capable of being in a position where I'd get 'nicked by a sword,'" he retorted.
"That's because I know better than to go picking fights," Merlin replied.
"Really? Then how would you explain our meeting?" Arthur inquired.
Merlin shook his head, wondering how he could always lose these arguments. "Moment of stupidity?" he suggested.
"And how would you explain the rest of them?" Arthur asked his servant.
"I'm only like this around you," Merlin answered.
"Ah. This makes your romance with Arien a bit more plausible. But I honestly can't believe that this doesn't bother you a bit," Arthur pondered.
"It just…doesn't!" Merlin replied, exasperated.
"I'm sure it will, eventually," Arthur muttered.
Merlin, not hearing what his master had said, went back to work.
"Thank you so much for doing my job for the last few days," Aurelia said gratefully to Arien, who had just gotten home from a long day of work.
"You're pregnant. Tis a lot of work, carrying around someone so helpless that he or she couldn't live without you. Besides, it gives me a bit of an excuse to remain here for a while. Barding is lovely, but…sometimes it is not the best thing if one wants to know people," Arien replied.
"And who would these people be?" Aurelia inquired slyly. "Merlin?"
Arien laughed. "Actually, I was not thinking of anyone in particular. I simply miss being around people with whom I can actually converse."
"What are things like between you and Merlin, by the way?" Aurelia wondered, acting as if Arien hadn't said anything.
"How they should be—normal. We've just sort of…fallen into a natural friendship. This feels like how it's supposed to be," Arien replied, a satisfied smile lighting up her face.
Aurelia shook her head. "Just wait. I predicted it correctly last time; I'm perfectly capable of doing so a second time," she remarked.
"Unless your pregnancy is addling your mind. It happens, you know—I've seen it a few times with my own mother," Arien stated lightly.
"If you're suggesting insanity—" Aurelia began.
"Of course not!" Arien replied playfully. "Why would you ever even think such a thing?"
A week and a half.
Nothing.
Two people (and everyone who had nothing to do with the situation) were perfectly fine with it; things could continue to progress like this for the rest of their lives and they would be perfectly complacent with everything.
Three were baffled—two for righteous reasons, the other for nefarious purposes. These three would never speak—not until something changed with the first two—for better or worse, whichever one happened to come first.
Merlin's life had improved ever since Arien had returned to Camelot. Her presence took away some of the loneliness that had been plaguing him since Balinor's death. Arien had never known what it felt like to lose a parent, but she'd seen her own share of tragedies; knowing this made it easier for Merlin to confide in her. They spoke quite frequently—not nearly as often as they had before Arien had left Camelot, but they would walk together in the corridors of Camelot from time to time, speaking of the daily occurrences of their lives.
When they decided to spend an evening in one another's company, more serious subjects were discussed. Yet nothing more than friendship was present.
Until one night, when Merlin returned to Gaius's tower after an especially thought-provoking conversation with Arien about why awful things happened to undeserving people. Her words echoed strongly in his mind.
"If we all lived easy lives, we'd all be horribly weak. Tribulation is what it takes to strengthen a soul. I'll be honest—the first month after I left Camelot was probably the hardest time of my life. I constantly regretted my decision to become a bard, but I made it. It felt like I was being constantly stabbed at the beginning, but I was able to work past that—and we're both better off because of that. I know that barding has taught me quite a bit about life and…I can see that you've changed as well—you're stronger because of all this, Merlin."
At that moment, her fingers had brushed his cheek—not tenderly enough to be called a caress, but with enough meaning that it could not have been an accident. He brought his hand halfway to the place where she'd touched him before stopping himself.
He would not put himself through this pattern of loss again. Now that his feelings for Arien were returning, Merlin believed that something would take her away—either death or her love of barding—and he did not want to lose someone else.
Although she'd never shown anything more than platonic interest in anyone else…even Sir Einar. She rarely spoke of him and Merlin assumed that there would never be much of anything between those two.
Arien had changed in the past year, but Merlin knew that the change would have happened eventually. She wasn't different; she was more fully herself. The light that he'd always loved about her now shone even more brightly, making everything else that Merlin saw look dim.
He couldn't help it. Love wasn't "magical," at least not to Merlin—his magic had always been something that he could control.
If he had been able to control love, Arien never would have left to begin with.
Freya would've stayed in the bounty hunter's cage to be put to death, never to know the simple kindnesses of one desperate soul assisting another.
He would not be pondering this if he controlled love.
Arien's life was a pool of joy. She was in her favorite place in the world with some of the people she cared most about…and she had the freedom to stay or to visit other nearby towns in order to practice her barding skills. Overall, the people of the towns she visited were quite enthusiastic about having a bard in their presence; they listened to her songs and stories avidly and were often curious about her life.
At least I have happy tales to tell them, Arien thought every time someone asked her about the current state of her life.
Many people asked her if she had "someone special" waiting for her. Her response was standard. "I have several special people who are always happy to see me…though I do not have a fellow who is anything more than a friend."
Inevitably, her mind always turned towards Merlin when she thought of love—he was the only one with whom she'd truly had a relationship. Those feelings were a part of her past; though there was a chance her feelings would change, Arien knew that a happy life without love was completely possible.
Today, Arien was taking over Aurelia's duties. She hummed quietly to herself as she strolled towards the kitchens when someone unexpectedly touched her arm. Turning around, she saw Sir Einar.
"Arien, you haven't been around as much lately," he said suavely.
She wasn't completely sure why, but something about Sir Einar made her highly uncomfortable. "I am just doing the work of my friend. She's been rather preoccupied lately, so I offered to help out a bit. That's why I am absent some days and present others," she clarified.
"How kind of you," he murmured. "What is it you do when your friend is working?"
"Well, I do a bit of barding—nothing exceptional; just traveling around Camelot, and—cheese" she suddenly stopped as Merlin approached. "Hi!" she exclaimed, waving to the prince's manservant as he passed by.
Merlin, who was carrying Arthur's armor, smiled in Arien's direction. "Can we talk later?" he asked.
"Of course. See you then!" Arien called to his back.
This occurrence greatly disturbed Einar. Merlin was obviously too important to Arien. This needed to change immediately. "Would you care to dine with me tonight?" he suggested, hoping that she would break her plans with the manservant for him.
"No, I'm afraid I'm busy. And…don't bother asking me again. I simply have too much to do—there is no time to spare for dining with strange knights." Her distaste for him snuck into her tone. This would never work—unless Einar modified his plan.
Arthur had seen it—the change in Merlin that he'd been anticipating for approximately two weeks. His servant was losing focus, staring off into nothingness, and had been in the stocks more than normal. Contrary to what one would expect, the prince was pleased with these developments because they meant that he had been correct.
Merlin was in love with Arien.
"So, Merlin…when do you plan on telling her?" he asked his manservant one sunny afternoon.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Merlin responded neutrally.
"Really? Merlin, you're constantly losing focus, your work has redefined 'mediocrity,' and you've been in the stocks more times than I'd care to recall in the past few days. You've only been like this once before—the last time you were swooning over Arien," argued Arthur.
"There must be some point to all of this," Merlin commented, though he was relatively sure of where Arthur was going to take this conversation.
"Oh, there is. You were so sure that you didn't need love because you are so incredibly strong—and just look how quickly it changed. You're ready for her to swoon into your arms, gaze up into your arms, and tell you of how she thought of you every time she was lonely, aren't you?" Arthur inquired.
"It's not exactly like that," Merlin responded. "I just…want her to know right away this time."
"Then go and speak with her. It's really not that difficult, Merlin," Arthur explained. "Especially since you've done it before."
"I'm perfectly aware of how to tell her," Merlin said rather harshly. "And I'm going to do it tomorrow night."
"Oh, I see. Are you feeling threatened, Merlin?" Arthur wondered.
Merlin didn't answer.
"All the more reason to hurry up…" Arthur trailed off, his tone mysterious.
"The maple tree grows strong and tall;
In the forest it hast e'er stood
Eternal green; its leaves ne'er fall
Upon the floor of this fair wood."
The sound of Arien's song greeted Einar as he walked into the tavern. He had followed her when she had left Camelot, knowing that this would be the safest place to do what needed to be done. If anyone were to catch him in Camelot…it would be the end, not only of his vengeance, but of his knighthood and his life.
Her passion for barding was evident in the concentration that barely furrowed her brow as she focused on singing the correct words and playing the correct notes on her harp. Her sweet voice liltingly sang the next verse, flowing forth to create a metaphysical song. Einar listened intently. If he was going to execute revenge so quickly, why not enjoy it a bit? He could already hear that voice, melting into sighs over him.
And it would all be his.