She Watched Him from the Window
By MySoapBox
Thanks everyone for your patience and thanks to my beta angleinthecrowd.
In the last chapter…
"I haven't seen Gwen in two weeks," Arthur answered.
"That makes sense, now with Morgana gone."
"Where is Gwen?" Arthur asked. "What does she do now?"
"I saw her a few days ago working in the kitchens," Merlin offered. "She said she helps out there sometimes."
"I think it's time we had a nice big feast; one that would require every servant of the castle to attend. Don't you?"
Merlin smiled again. "Yes, my Lord. I think a feast would be just the thing."
The head cook's youngest daughter tugged at her white cap as she scurried around the boiling pots and piles of produce and carcasses. Half the castle staff had been working in the kitchen for days, making it quite a challenge to move around. Turning the corner, past the brick ovens, she saw the woman she was seeking, standing at a table pushed up against the far wall; the woman's distinctive bronze skin was unmistakable, even from the back.
"Miss Guinevere," the girl called as she approached. The hissing and banging of pots drowned out her voice. "Miss Guinevere," the girl called out again; this time she was close enough to tug on the woman's limp skirts.
Guinevere turned to her, wiping the sweat from her forehead. The tired look on her face was one the girl had seen many times on her father's face after a long day's work.
The girl tried to remember her message. "Father says he needs two more pots of turnips, right away!"
Guinevere sighed, a deep long breath, and then tossed the turnip she held in her hand into a pot. "How many of these things can they eat? We've never made so many before."
"Father says this is to be the biggest feast since the crowning of the prince," the girl offered.
"Even then, I didn't spend three days in the kitchens."
"What Uther wants, Uther gets," the girl said shrugging her arms. "That's what father says."
"Uther. Ah. If Uther orders it, then we must obey." There was an edge of sarcasm to Guinevere's voice.
Not knowing what more to say, the little girl turned and scurried off, leaving Guinevere alone with her vegetables.
Guinevere picked up her knife and reached for another of the round white and pink roots. Three days she had worked, from sun up to sun down. In the summer, the air in the kitchens was always heavy and thick, but combining that with so many people made it insufferable. Just two more pots, she said to herself. She had made it this far, she could do two more.
"And why are you not dressed yet?" She heard a familiar voice ask. She turned to see Merlin, dressed in his bright red steward's costume. The ostentatious puffy hat over his large ears made him look absolutely ridiculous.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about," she said.
"Well you can't serve in that," Merlin said, indicating her clothing.
She looked down at her stained apron and work dress. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying. "Oh, I'm not serving tonight," she said. "As soon as I'm done with two more pots, I'm going straight home to my bed."
"You're what?" Merlin seemed surprised.
"I'm going home to a relaxing cup of tea and a soft bed," she explained.
"Oh, no you're not," Merlin said. He grabbed her arm, but she jerked it out of his hand.
"Oh, yes I am. I've been up to my elbows in turnips since sun up."
Merlin started to fidget, the way he always did when he was anxious. "You can't!" he said.
Normally she would care more about her friend and why he was acting so strangely, but at this moment it was all she could do to not collapse. The idea of a good night's sleep is all that had kept her going for the past few hours, and now Merlin wanted her to work the rest of the night? "I most certainly can!" she said, her voice had an edge. "Perhaps Uther thinks some feast for some hundred year old battle is worth making the whole palace staff work their fingers to the bone for a week. But I do not!" She knew that her exhaustion was putting more passion into her words than she intended but she didn't care. "And since when do we celebrate the Battle of Essex any way? In all the time I've worked in the castle, I've never heard of it and neither has anyone else I've talked too. And to make all these people….all these good people… work so hard, and go without sleep, just so he can have some sort of…party! It's just…" She was starting to lose steam now. "It's just not fair, that's all." She turned from Merlin and back to her table full of pots and turnip tops, wiping away a tear she hoped he didn't notice.
She dispatched another turnip before she felt Merlin's hand on her shoulder.
"Gwen."
Merlin had whispered her name and the word sent a cool shudder through her body. It was not unpleasant, but refreshing, like a drink of cold water on a hot day.
"Maybe I shouldn't say anything…" He paused and Guinevere turned her head to hear him better. "…I know you're tired, but I think it would mean a lot to Arthur if you were there tonight."
Her stubbornness melted just a little at the mention of Arthur's name.
"Arthur has plenty of waiting staff," she said evenly. "Why would he have need of me?" She picked up another turnip as if the answer to the question didn't mean the world to her.
"Um…" Merlin shifted from side to side. "Arthur's been…um…a little under the weather lately."
Guinevere whirled around to face Merlin, the paring knife still in her hand. "Arthur's sick?" she asked. She made no effort to hide the concern in her voice.
"Yes, yes, very sick," Merlin said, stepping back.
"Why did no one tell me?"
"Well," he squeaked, reaching out and pulling the knife gingerly from her fingers, "I would have told you, but you know Arthur…"
"He can be a bull-headed prat," Guinevere supplied.
Merlin continued as if he hadn't heard her. "…he doesn't want anyone worrying about him…"
"Too stubborn for his own good."
"…He'd be mad if he knew I told you..."
"It's a good thing you did."
"…So you won't go mentioning it to him, will you?" Merlin smiled at her expectantly.
"I certainly will!"
Merlin's smile dropped.
Guinevere continued, "How pig-headed! How selfish! The crowned prince of Camelot neglecting his health. All for his stupid pride!"
"Exactly why I want you to serve at the feast tonight."
"I'm not going to serve!" Guinevere declared.
Merlin seemed disappointed. "You're not?"
Guinevere thrust her finger in the air. "Arthur should go right to bed! It's the only sensible thing to do."
Merlin reached out at pushed her hand down. "No, no, he'd never hear of it. But you…you, Gwen, can keep an eye on him. Stay close to him all evening. Make sure he eats lots of warm soup and vegetables."
Guinevere put her hands on her hips. "He could just as easily eat warm soup in his chambers."
"But you know how important it is for him to keep up appearances. Uther would never hear of Arthur spending the evening of the feast in his bed. If he must attend at least you could help him not get any sicker."
"I could make sure he doesn't sit in a draft," Guinevere conceded, "and that his soup is extra hot." Maybe she couldn't make him go to bed, she decided, but she certainly could see that he was well cared for.
"Yes!" Merlin agreed, a grin filling his face.
Guinevere reached behind her and untied her apron. "Well, what are we waiting for? I need to go get dressed!" She threw her apron down on the table and hurried out the door, her turnips forgotten.
To be continued
