10 SIGNS OF UNREQUITED LOVE
3.
Unreasonable Jealousy
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"I hereby declare the council meeting open."
Every year the king of Camelot requested that all his noble subjects joined him in court to discuss the matters of state from economical and political perspectives. Every year the generals and the courtiers came into conflict and then spent five days trying to resolve the issues. This year was no different – the pressing matter concerning everyone, noble and common alike, was the poor seasonal harvest and the approaching winter.
This was also a chance for the king to guide and educate his son and heir in the aforementioned matters of state, hoping that when the day came for Arthur to replace his father he would be ready and have enough experience to know how not to repeat his father's mistakes.
The problem was that today Arthur was nowhere to be in sight.
As the members of council looked over the list of proceedings, Uther approached his son's manservant, the one with big ears, and uttered two words: "Find him."
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His footsteps could be heard down the hallway as he made his way to the meeting. Arthur had spent the entire night preparing for this morning, trying to make up for the time he had wasted in the past on other then more pressing matters – such as training the new recruits, rebuilding and strengthening the citadel walls after the latest attack on the lower town, the list could go on.
Sometimes Arthur questioned his father's responsibilities, seemingly of a lesser amount than his own, as most of the King's time and efforts went to collecting taxes followed by the opposition against magic and promotion thereof. But then the prince remembered that he was a responsibility himself, and thus it was really unfair of the son to judge his father. The king was many things, but lazy was not one of them, and no one could accuse him of such leisure. Just because Uther had retired from the army after over twenty years of military service, it did not mean he was an unworthy leader.
The problem with staying up all night was that no matter how many papers he had gone through and how well he had prepared, the prince was now exhausted. When it was time for dressing and washing up, Arthur barely recognised his reflection in the glass. His face was pale, there were shadows under his eyes, and no matter how hard he tried he could not muster a smile or even a resemblance of a pleasant face. The guards outside his door were the first to witness their prince's more than usual short-tempered mood this morning.
His footsteps could be heard down the hallway as he made his way to the meeting. It was much too early for the noblewomen to be up, but their husbands were up greeting the king's heir as he passed by them in the corridors. No smiles, or nods of politeness were spared on their account as Arthur simply marched on with scrolls of reports pressed under his arm.
Only when he turned the corner of the north wing, did he halt mid-step.
His face remained impassive and yet Arthur felt annoyance and apprehension building up inside. If he had the strength to do so, he would have rolled his eyes, but as it was, he simply could not find the energy to roll his eyeballs.
Approaching him, she finally looked up from the floor and gave him a carefree but shy sort of smile, what he now recognised as a typical one for Guinevere.
"Good morning, my lord", she curtseyed. His annoyance at the slight rise in his heart beating was soon forgotten, and instead Arthur found himself feeling grateful for the quiet and harmonious tone of her voice, soothing his headache. This morning she wore a different dress of a green shade, a colour he usually would associate with Morgana's silk gowns. Hers was different however. Instead of layers upon layers of transparent satins with elaborate golden décor and a piercing green tone, Guinevere's dress was of a simpler cut and made out of simple cotton, the green nuance was toned down and felt rather warm and neutral, reminding Arthur of the leaves during spring – not yet as bright as those of the summer season. There was no gold glittering or jewels lightening up her olive skin this gloomy morning, instead fresh red flowers adorned her dark curls, gathered in a low careless bun, and a simple ribbon hang loosely on her hips gathering the flowing fabric.
Somehow this ordinary green gown matched the grey morning sky and together made a beautiful pairing in perfect harmony.
He must have been staring at her, his face too tired to hide its pensive expression with that of a nonchalant. Thankfully though, the young maid was far too modest to even begin to imagine the prince of Camelot contemplating her pretty features, mistaking his silence and lack of reaction to her greeting as that of a sign of poor health.
Humble Gwen took this quiet moment to inspect the blond nobleman more closely. He did look pale: his skin, his lips… she blinked away … his eyes had no glittering in them, as, she was shamed to admit she noticed, he usually had.
"Are you feeling quite well, my lord?" His eyes were now staring at the worn out bronze coloured ribbon around her hips, and he swayed on his feet. Gwen urgently stepped forward, her free hand ready to catch him if needed.
Arthur noticed her sudden movement and looked up with a slight shake of his head: "Huh?"
"Are you well, sire? You look somewhat pale if I may be so bold to point it out."
Arthur noticed how with her so near his face could suddenly overcome the greatest of obstacles, the prat inside of him, and grant her a slow smile. "Yes, I am quite well, thank you, Guinevere." At such a close proximity he noticed how her hair was a bit damp, probably from the morning dew as she collected herbs that now lay carefully arranged in the basket she was carrying. "Just a sleepless night."
This seemed to put her at ease and she took a step back, nodding. He assumed that she knew something about not being able to sleep because of duties weighing down on your shoulders.
"Of course, you must have had a lot to do preparing for the council today." She gave him an almost grateful smile, as if to thank him for doing his best to look after his people and taking on the burdens that came with the power held by the Pendragon family. She looked down into her basket and chose a rather ripe, red apple, before giving it to him: "Please take a fruit, you need the essentials in it for your health. May hap it will help you to get through the meeting and then, if I may advise you, you ought to rest before the feast this eve, my lord."
The feast! Oh, he had forgotten. It seemed Morgana's maid was doing a better job at organising him than his own servant, who was paid to follow through unlike her.
"Thank you." Arthur took the apple, smiling at the sight of a blush spreading on her cheeks as their hands touched for a brief moment.
"It's nothing, my lord. Have a good day." She pulled back, curtseying, and stepped past him, continuing on her way.
When he could see her retreating figure no longer Arthur looked down at the apple in his hand. He did not know why, but he felt warm and at peace now. He knew that for some unknown reason, he would remember this morning for many days to come – this gloomy grey morning, and her pale green gown.
No this wasn't simply an attraction as was the case in the past with other pretty maids. Nor was it a crush like the one he had on that odd visiting lady Sophia, with whom he had, till this day, no idea what happened.
Arthur felt that finally, after so many years under basically the same roof, Morgana's friend was becoming his friend – no longer influenced merely by Morgana's rather low opinion of his merits Guinevere was now making her own judgement of him, and Arthur wasn't sure whether or not that was better. After all, what if she concludes that he's even worse than she thought before.
It was the very fact that he cared so deeply about her opinion of him that convinced the prince, friendship may be, but something else came with it – he only had to put his mind to it and figure out what?
Looking down at the courtyard his good mood shattered like one of the mirrors Morgana once threw at him after his usual fit of teasing. The friend occupying his thoughts this morning was met by a fellow servant – his former servant, Gregory – again, who it seemed was trying to lessen her own burden and take the fruit-filled basket from her hands. At first Guinevere resisted, shy as usual coming up with excuses, which rather pleased their royal observant, however, it seemed Gregory had acquired quite a strong will during his employment under the prince, and did not take no for an answer.
Green was now the colour he felt most attuned with, and it had nothing to do with her wearing a green dress. Well, perhaps something, he gathered, as he imagined the same blush on her cheeks while her fellow servant complemented Gwen on the new fabric. Of course from such a distance he failed to hear the rather uncomfortable laugh Gwen gave her companion. Arthur didn't see how inside the castle she took her basket back and simply wished Gregory a good day, nor did he see disappointment spread on Gregory's face. If he had, then perhaps he would have remained in a better mood.
But then, the Crown Prince of Camelot was not exactly famous for his patience and subtlety. What he was famous for was the way he snapped at his manservant, who just so happened to show up at that precise moment.
"Arthur! What are you doing standing here?"
No reply.
Merlin came closer, noticing the tense stance of his master and the narrowed eye look he gave someone in the courtyard, though the only ones Merlin could see down there were two old women and the butcher making his daily delivery to the royal kitchens.
Merlin's eyebrows fused together in confusion.
"My lor-"
"Is courtship among the staff of the castle common?"
"Ehm, well sometimes."
"Sometimes? What kind of an answer is that?"
"I don't know. Yes, I guess." Merlin replied surprised to see his master now glaring at him. "Arthur-"
"You work for me, and that being so, you will use my proper title, Merlin."
Oh, great, he was stuck with the prattish Arthur today. Merlin sighed: "My lord-"
"What!"
"You are late, your father has sent me for you."
"Well then why didn't you say so?" Arthur pushed his way past Merlin stalking toward the council room.
As they walked down the hall fellow servants gave Merlin questioning and sympathising looks, while Arthur mumbled something about him being "useless" and "incompetent".
Two hours into the political proceedings, Merlin couldn't help but stifle a yawn as he swayed on his feet.
It was a strange day. Arthur was exhausted and therefore short-tempered and much too serious than usual, not to mention his snapping at poor Gregory, who was also late for the meeting. This behaviour was indeed out of the ordinary as even the King gave him a look of discomfort. Gregory seemed quieter than usual, which might have had something to do with the way Arthur kept glaring at him.
And to top it all off, Merlin had a headache and could feel his stomach craving food, as he had to take care of Gaius' leech-tank instead of taking breakfast this morning.
Maybe he could ask Gwen for some fruit, she always had the best apples… very much like the one Arthur kept rolling in his hand.
Merlin frowned.
A strange day indeed…
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AN: I'm sorry for the long wait. Let me know what you think…