A/N:
Thank you so much, everyone, for the fabulous reviews for the last chapter. I've been completely blown away by the responses to this fic so far. So happy you all like it. A big thank you also to those of you who reviewed as guests (to whom I couldn't reply) - your words of encouragement mean so much to me :O)
Okay, so a small reprieve from the angst in this chapter, but don't worry angst-fanatics...more is on the way soon *grins evilly*.
Disclaimer:
Merlin is lovely
Merlin is good
Merlin's not mine
T'would be good if it could!
Chapter 4
"Arthur, you were supposed to be getting him to talk, not scaring him away!" Gwen was trying, and miserably failing, to keep the frustrated censure from her voice, as she and the King sped through the castle's long corridors.
"Don't you think I'm aware of that, Guinevere?" Arthur growled back angrily, then he came to a stop. Gwen bumped into him with a small yelp. "Sorry, I..I didn't mean that." He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips.
Gwen's mouth quirked into a little smile, though it only lingered for a few seconds. Once he had welcomed a concerned Gwen to join him in the dinner he had little or no appetite to enjoy, it had not taken Arthur long to recount the entire conversation he had had with Merlin; short as it was. Gwen, in turn, had described her brief encounter with the very distracted and rather upset-looking manservant in the corridor, and this had been enough to convince the King that they should immediately set out to find and confront the raven-haired young man together.
"Come on," Arthur said, "Merlin usually has his evening meal with Gaius around now. If anyone could persuade Merlin to stay and listen to what we have to say, then Gaius can, and I want to catch him before he does his rounds." Still clasping Gwen's hand, Arthur pulled her with him, as he began striding again towards their destination.
Reaching the heavy oak door, Arthur only hesitated a moment before knocking three times. He could vaguely hear the gentle echoes of the knocks resounding in the room beyond, but after waiting a few more seconds, there was no acknowledgement from within. Dropping Gwen's hand, he turned the handle slowly and followed the door's path inwards.
"Gaius?" he called, as he stepped into the room. Gwen was a step behind him, as he made his way further in, looking all around him for any sign of human activity, but finding the room eerily quiet. Even the fire in the hearth had died down to a pile of ash and a few burning embers. Arthur stopped in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips, and looked around him at the familiar, organised chaos.
The physician's chambers had always been something of a sanctuary to him, for as long as he could remember. This was the place he had come to to get comfort for his wounds - the mental as well as the physical ones. Numerous times - as a young lad obviously, because only children and girls cry, after all - he had found solace in the elderly man's embrace, when his father's had been denied him. Many a pleasant hour had been spent learning about astronomy, geography and history, with Gaius as the ever patient mentor - even friend - providing a break from his father's relentless training schedules, in his aim to turn his son into the warrior who would defend his kingdom, and only then make him proud.
In his teenage years, his visits here had dwindled, until he only came when he needed his physical wounds patching up. These had been lonely times - his only friends noble sycophants and bootlickers. Until Merlin came to Camelot. In those few short years, his life had changed so significantly. He knew he wouldn't recognise that arrogant youth, who had challenged an unarmed but plucky peasant (he had only just met) to single combat, in a public place, just to impress his so-called friends. Now, he couldn't imagine how empty his life would be without Merlin's cheeky retorts, bare-faced honesty, and occasional pieces of oddly wise advice. Well, come to think of it, he could; the said young man having given him a taster over the last month. And he didn't like it...not one bit.
Giving his head a shake to clear it of its precious maudlin thoughts, Arthur headed over to the steps leading up to Merlin's bedroom.
"Merlin?" he called tentatively, as he knocked on the door. When no answer came, he opened it, and walked into the small, plain room. A frown blossomed on his forehead that continued to deepen as he looked around the empty chamber. He couldn't ever remember seeing it looking so neat and tidy. From the day that Merlin had moved in there, it had always been littered with a strange ensemble of items: from dirty socks to half-brewed potions to nearly completely melted candlesticks. Arthur's heart clenched at a sudden, horrified thought, and striding across to the windowsill, he wrenched the chest there open. But to his relief, it was not empty. And Merlin's travel bag, too, lay looking like a discarded animal carcass, in the corner by the chair. Well at least that was one thing - he hadn't left in a fit of pique. But then, where was the idiot?
"Arthur?" Gwen's voice drifted in from the main room. Giving the space one last, quick scan, in the hope of divulging any clues, Arthur stepped back through the door, to find Gwen waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs; a piece of paper in her hand.
"What is it?" he asked, but instead of a reply, Gwen simply placed the paper in his hand. Sitting heavily on the top step of the stairs, dreading what he might find out, Arthur read the short note. When he looked up at Gwen again, his face held a resigned frown. "So there's no use waiting around here to talk to Gaius, if he's not going to be back for hours."
Gwen tilted her head in the direction of the table at the side of the room, "Merlin hasn't eaten his dinner, again," she said. Arthur looked over at the table as well, and rolled his eyes at this latest evidence of his servant's lack of self-preservation. "Did you find anything in his room?" Gwen interrupted his thoughts.
"No," he replied. "But I've never seen it so...neat. It's almost as if..." His voice trailed away, and he pinched the bridge of his nose."
"As if, what?" Gwen asked, when Arthur left the sentence hanging for too long.
Arthur sighed heavily and looked up into her eyes. "I don't know, Gwen. But I have a really bad feeling."
Gwen felt her heart clench, and couldn't suppress the small shudder that shook her momentarily, as if a Dorocha had just collided with her soul.
Arthur got up, and absentmindedly dropped the note on the nearest table, before walking back towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Gwen asked, turning to follow him.
Arthur paused at the door, and turned to look back at her, "We're going to find Merlin," he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
"But where?" Gwen couldn't keep the exasperation from her voice. "He could be anywhere."
"We'll split up. I'll check the taverns and get Gwaine and anyone else I can find to help. Then I'll check the battlements. You search the armoury, the kitchens and the laundry room - he might still be catching up on his chores. We'll meet up here in two hours. Maybe if we've had no luck, Gaius will be back by then, and he might have a better suggestion."
Gwen gripped his arm, and smiled affectionately at him. Reaching down to gently grip her chin, the King placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. And then he was out the door, and heading for the nearest exit to the courtyard. Gwen, only a step behind, turned in the opposite direction, aiming for the armoury, in the bowels of the castle.
"So essentially, what you're trying to say, Princess, is that you couldn't even have a simple chat with your best friend without screwing up, and now he's disappeared?"
Arthur swallowed hard and glared down at Gwaine for a moment, before he let out a relenting sigh and sank onto the bench opposite. The two empty tankards in front of Gwaine clinked noisily, as the King's fists thumped the table hard. "Yes," he admitted, through gritted teeth.
"So then, you'll concede that my idea was better?" Percival, beside the long-haired knight, smirked at this. The gentle giant had been filled in on the subject of his friends' early-morning meeting, following his return to the city with the rest of his patrol unit. He was only too happy to join his mates in drowning their concerns for their young servant friend, with a couple of swift ones down the Rising Sun.
Elyan, sitting next to the King, rolled his eyes and lifted his tankard to his lips to take a swig of mead, and thereby prevent himself from taking up his earlier argument with his friend. Gwaine was on his way to being comfortably soused anyway, and he was just...Gwaine.
"So what's the plan now?" the rogue knight asked, folding his hand round his nearly-empty third tankard, and lifting it to his lips.
"We find Merlin and confront him together," Arthur replied. Safety in numbers, he thought, and they couldn't do any worse a job at worming the truth out of Merlin than I did! He raised an eyebrow. "That is, if you're not too wasted to stand and go for a walk."
"Hah!" Gwaine erupted, scornfully, "I was only just getting settled in...I'm not the lightweight Merlin is."
The other knights grinned at this, though with a slightly wistful twinkle to their eyes; reminded of the last time Merlin had gone drinking with Gwaine. He had managed to get himself in a fist fight, with two burly men - of questionable moral beliefs and hygiene practices - after only two tankards of mead. He had been late to work the next day, sporting a huge black eye, a slight limp, and 'the hangover from Hades', as he had called it. Arthur had been livid; Gaius, reprehensive; Gwen, concerned; Gwaine, mildly impressed; and the rest of his friends, highly amused. None had wasted the opportunity to ensure the experience was not brushed under the carpet and forgotten too quickly. Not that Merlin had particularly minded the ribbing they had given him. His ability to take his knocks, and join in with the laughter – even when he was the subject of it - was yet one more thing to add to the list of 'things they missed about old Merlin'. The Merlin who had not forgotten how to smile, or share a joke, or throw a witty retort at their good-hearted teasing.
Gwaine tossed his head back and drained the tankard, before slamming it back on the table and standing up; his eyes only slightly glazed, but his legs remarkably steady.
Arthur shook his head with a slight grin, and pushed himself to his feet, closely followed by Percival. "Great, you cover the lower town taverns, I'll go back to the castle and check the battlements."
"I'm liking this plan more and more," Gwaine's smile widened, as he rubbed his hands together.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "We're meeting Gwen back at Gaius' in an hour or so, so you'd better get on with it, Sir Gwaine."
Gwaine made a face at the King behind his back, then turned to Elyan. He hadn't moved from the bench, and was staring into his drink, a pensive expression worrying his brow. "Coming, Elyan."
Elyan looked up and bit the inside of his cheek, "I'm starting to wonder if this is such a good idea." He frowned at Gwaine's look of exasperation. "If Merlin wants to be left alone, maybe we should."
"Fine, stay here," Gwaine flicked his hair behind him, and took a step towards the door, "I'm Merlin's best friend anyway. Everyone says so." Arthur and Percival shared an amused look, and followed Gwaine out into the street.
Percival and Gwaine were just discussing which tavern to try first - which mostly depended on which served the best mead, with the least boorish clientele, and the most voluptuous serving wenches, when the door to the tavern banged open again. Elyan stepped out, securing his sword to his belt. "Someone has to make sure you don't get waylaid on the mission, Gwaine," he said, in answer to Percival's raised eyebrow.
"I'll have you know..." Gwaine began, but was cut off by an impatient Arthur.
"Okay, let's just get a move on, shall we, we've got a lot of ground to cover."
"Right," Gwaine said, and turning Percival and Elyan with a push of their shoulders, he began walking in the opposite direction to the King. "See you in an hour, Princess," he called back over his shoulder with a sneer.
Arthur's only response was a small growl, as he began to jog back towards the castle, wondering for the umpteenth time whether it had been too much of a spur of the moment decision to knight the dipsomaniacal ruffian.
