Thank you so much for the amazing reviews.I love them and I answer them personally. Sorry for taking so long updating. I know, I know...I really love writing, but lately I have been having problems in school( that, thankfully, I have overcome). Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 4 "Guinevere's advice"
Arthur leaned over the door, breathing heavily, while trying to overhear Merlin's conversation with Gaius. He only heard his name once and nothing more that he could make good use of. Giving up, he walked all the way to his room as fast as he could, ideas storming in his brain. He did not stop, and by the time he reached his chambers he was breathless.
He didn't know why he was panting that hard, if it was for the long distance he had just run or for the bizarre events in Gaius' chambers. His heart beat fast against his damp chest, and his face burned with heat. Only then he noticed he was soaked in water, and, randomly selection some clothing, he went behind his screen and changed, all that while avoiding that small place in his head that kept reviving what had happened. Eventually he jumped onto the bed, grunting, no longer feeling his surroundings. He could not notice the velvet cover or the big fluffy pillow under his head, he didn't remember if he had taken his boots off or if he was indeed in his room and not out there hunting any more. Many things were wrong with him at the same time. The usually warm sheets felt incredibly cold now at the touch with his skin; his head hurt like he had been his with a boulder; and, the most significant fact of all, a certain part of his body was showing a certain interest that was usually not shown except for a very different situation.
He closed his eyes tightly, trying to abate the images ravishing his thoughts. Merlin's wet shirt grazing his skin, his pink, moist lips, the way his legs fit nicely behind him, almost inviting him…
He turned in his bed. That was it, wasn't it? It was Merlin's fault. He was the one that had made him lean and try to…and try to… Dear god! He would have to berate him later for that.
His stomach twisted and he thought instantly of illness.
"Damn it. Now my father's going to forbid me from going hunting or something like that. All thanks to that prick." He cursed, deciding that all that went badly on that day had been his manservant's fault.
He heard a knock on the door. Sighing, for he already could guess what the matter was, he replied with a "Come in".
Prying through his right eyes, he saw a servant boy at the door.
"Sire, the King requests your presence at the throne room."
"Thank you. Tell him I'll be there in five minutes."
"Thank you sire" the boy replied, and left. Sighing once again, Arthur got up and walked painfully slow to the mirror, where he tried to make it look like he hadn't just been threatened by a wild boar or that he had to return to the castle with his manservant attached to his back while the skies drained all their water on top of him; A hard task that he promptly failed, so he resigned himself with just having his hair neatly done and headed to meet his father.
By the time he reached there, he had already revived the scene with Merlin about five times, all of them silenced with a very angry "Fuck!" that he hoped no-one had heard.
His father was currently alone, bent over some maps dimly lit by the flickering flames of scarce torches.
"Father." He said, hoping to be acknowledged. Uther didn't bother to look up, still looking mesmerized by a map of what Arthur thought was The White Mountains and limited to beckon him with a finger.
"I need you to undertake an expedition to a county in the White Mountains." He informed, not bothering for a greeting or any formalities of the sort.
Arthur was surprised with that sudden request. He had never heard about a county placed on Camelot.
"A county, your highness?"
"Yes, it is placed on a valley surrounded by the White Mountains, so it won't take more than two days to reach it."
"And what is the reason of this trip?" he asked, eyeing the maps on the table and finding that there was, indeed, a small county on that spot. It seemed to be composed only by the land on the valley crossed by a small river.
"Valhalla…" he read, seeing the tiny inscription next to the valley "What language is that?"
"That's the language they use in the home country. It translates as "feast of the dead"."
"Ha." Arthur breathed out, feeling tired. "What a strange name."
"I wouldn't advice you to laugh about it." His father told him, looking at him for the first time. He seemed a bit confused for a moment, and Arthur wondered if he was still as red as before, but since his father ignored it a just limited to continue talking, he paid no attention to it. "They have different believes from ours. They pray to….multiple gods."
Uther closed his eyes and his hand crawled on to the cross on his chest, or at least the bump on his shirt that indicated it. Arthur knew he was a religious man, probably because of what he called "magic freaks". He was too, to a certain degree. It was important to him, to know that, even if he was the king's son, he wasn't the most important thing, that royalty wasn't the most important thing. His people were the most important thing and he could not look after them all. He liked to know there was someone out there guarding him, guarding them. That there was an after, and that things weren't definitive.
"Of course, that is rubbish!" Uther spat, head down gazing at the maps. "But our ancestors believed that as well, and protected them!"
He paused, eyeing his son. Arthur knew he was supposed to agree with him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. After all, what rights did he have in forcing people on worshiping a certain god? Even if he would be a king, someday, he wouldn't want to be the kind that is forceful or oppressive; at least, if matters didn't tend towards the magic side. On that matter, he was suspicious, like his father.
"We will need a party of four knights." His father rasped, seeming eager to finish the meeting
"Yes, I will tend to the arrangements." He concluded, and made to leave once again.
"Oh, and Arthur…take your manservant. God knows our knights can't cook."
"Yes." He agreed, and his throat felt dry all over again.
*
"Merlin!" Arthur bellowed.
The warlock blinked, stopping the movement of the cleaning cloth over the shiny metal.
"You called, sire?" he asked, after looking up to a fuming Arthur and looking back at the chest plate with renewed interest.
"Yes." He answered, his voice seeming to contain ounces of anger "Four times, actually."
Merlin blushed. He had been so absorbed polishing the prince's armour that he had not noticed the blonde entering the armoury until he was literally on top of him.
"Oh. Sorry. You need anything?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and recollected.
"In matter of fact, I do." Arthur confessed, pausing for a moment and leaning against the door, still looking pretty menacing "I am going on a trip to a kingdom in the White Mountains next week to meet its king to reinforce our alliance."
Merlin turned around and, resuming polishing Arthur's armour, inquired, pusillanimously "How long will it last?"
"Oh, about a week and a half."
Merlin grinned. Over a week off! Of course, he would have to run errands for Gaius and he would still be at every nobleman in the castle's service, but he finally would have his well-deserved rest. Oh, how wonderful! Maybe he would even be able to learn some new spells and finally be at peace and ponder on what had happened two days before…
"You're coming with me." Arthur informed, eyeing him with a vacant and closed expression, his voice resolute.
Merlin dropped the chest plate with a clatter, and exclaimed "What?"
"I take it that you're not too pleased about it." Arthur said, with what he could define as being a very amusing tone.
"Oh, of course I'm pleased!" he blurted out, and tried to keep his next words as low as he could, for fear of an exaggerated reaction "Why wouldn't I love to wash the dirty undergarments of some random knights?"
Arthur limited to laugh, the bastard, before answering.
"Well, it is your job." He said, without even trying to give an apology of some sort, and, when Merlin tried to get up with a great dramatic effect and only managed to fall back on the floor, armour tumbling together with him, laughed harder.
The manservant got up quickly, red with anger and embarrassment, and made way to exit the armoury after putting the gauntlets, chest plate and helmet on its proper places.
"By the way…" started Arthur and Merlin tilted his head towards him, waiting for the prince to continue "Are you feeling better?"
Merlin immediately felt his cheeks get hotter. Just when he was trying to forget what had happened… It wouldn't be easy. After all, it had taken a whole day for that minor injury to heal, a day off, he might add. And a day without the prince had been enough to just start sorting his thoughts out.
"Yeah…" he replied, and added for what it felt like the one hundredth time "Thanks."
He then left the storage room, without giving time for the prince to talk again. The flush had already spread to his ears by the time he was finally in safe grounds, walking towards' his bedroom. Thanks to god, the only duty he had left that day would be seeing that the prince was well, and that would be only hours later. He truly didn't like avoiding Arthur, but that seemed the wisest decision by now. He knew what Arthur had tried to do two days before. He didn't want to confront him about it. Actually, just seeing Arthur made him want to flee from whichever chamber he was in; especially if they were alone. The situation he had gotten himself into was both awkward and the sort of thing that should be talked out of as soon as he could, but he tried really hard to convince himself that it had been no big deal. He tried to make it seem like it hadn't meant something to him, which was something both totally erroneous and ludicrous, but he had actually felt something right before Gaius had walked in on them.
He turned left on a passage and collided with someone. They smelled of metal and flowers, and it didn't take him too long to figure out that Gwen was the one that had fallen.
"Sorry, Gwen!" he said, and offered her a hand "I was distracted."
"Of course." She commented, taking his hand and getting up with a playful smile that Merlin didn't know she was capable of having. But the stunning effect of her confident stare was ruined when she added, quickly "Not that I am suggesting that you fall all the time! I mean, you do. But you're a nice boy." She concluded, her cheeks also seeming a bit red.
Merlin chuckled. "So I am a good boy?" he inquired, lifting an eyebrow, and Gwen frowned, though still quirking her lips a bit too up for a successfully grumpy effect. She then picked up the basket she was carrying and motioned him with a finger, to follow her. Curious, he obliged, and they strolled calmly through the castle, the only servants that weren't running or with any sort of haste.
"I heard you got hurt." She said, sounding too in deep-thought for it to be the beginning of a pleasurable talk.
"Yeah. I'm better now, though." He replied, rotating his ankle as if to demonstrate he no longer felt pain." And I'm travelling next week" he added.
"You don't sound too happy about it."
"Why do you say that?" he asked, almost too suddenly.
"I don't know. You just look a bit sad."
"This is the first time you've seen me in the last two days. How could you possibly have noticed that?"
Gwen suddenly stopped, under the light that shone through a stained glass window, on an alcove.
"So something did happen two days ago for you to be like that."
"Huh?" he brilliantly asked.
"Like you just said, I haven't seen you for two days, the day of the hunting trip, and you just admitted you were sad." Merlin nodded, not quite following Guinevere's line of reasoning "It's not difficult to deduce that, whatever happened on that day is the reason of your sadness."
Merlin just stood there, gaping stupidly at Gwen, and slowly realizing that Morgana really had a great influence on her maidservant and how alike they were becoming.
"Sit." She told him pointing to the little stone bench with her chin, and he did so.
Inhaling as much as air as he could, he told her what had happened in Gaius' chambers. The corridors were, thankfully, very quiet and by the time he had finished relating the events, no-one had passed. Merlin was starting to think Gwen had chosen that place on purpose with her amazing womanly powers of deduction and almost fore sighting.
"Are you sure Arthur tried to kiss you?"
"Yes."
She led her hand to her face, cupping it with a concerned expression.
"Do you think he fancies you?"
"No." he replied honestly, and she frowned.
"Then why would he do something like that?"
Merlin got up and threw his arms in the air, as if that would explain his situation.
"I don't know!"
"Do you want to find out?" she asked, and she didn't have the usual naïve and innocent tone to it.
"What are you thinking?"
"Morgana may have a plan…"
Merlin quickly hunched down where Gwen was sitting.
"No." he said, trembling a bit "Morgana must not know this; you should not know this. Please don't tell anyone." He added, resting his hands on her lap, the shadows growing stronger as the day ended, and creating darkness on the deserted corridor; shadows that he deeply hoped not to be any guards. She curled her hands on his, and smiled.
"Alright, I won't." she promised, and ushered him to get up "Now, let me go to Morgana, it is already this late and she needs her dress clean for dinner."
"Alright." He repeated, and grinned. He knew he could always count on Gwen, even she was this deeply changed by Morgana. She smiled at him again, and he realized she had not changed that much; only for the better. An idea crossed his head at the moment, maybe incredibly stupid and completely wrong, but highly probable. Maybe Morgana was the one Gwen loved. They did spend a big amount of time together, greater than the normal maidservant and mistress would, and they seemed perfectly happy by being at each other's side.
Noticing that he had not got much time to eat before going to meet Arthur, he left those thoughts aside and went back to Gaius' rooms.
They dined, with scarce talk and a very long time of staring and raising eyebrows until Gaius gave in to his inquisitive nature and asked what was wrong. Merlin, who had been torn between thinking about the relationship between the lady Morgana and Gwen and his own with Arthur, only shrugged, and said that he had had a heavy day of work.
Eventually, hours passed and Merlin was forced to go see the prince. By the time he reached the princes' chambers, in wasn't in a very good mood.
"Ah, Merlin." Arthur said, not looking at him.
Merlin nodded in silence and started dragging the sheets down, preparing the bed for Arthur. He plumped the pillows and folded the sheets as quickly as he could, while glancing alternately between the bed and Arthur. The prince was sitting on a chair, staring at the fire with a closed expression. Merlin knew that expression; Arthur wore it when he deep thought. Merlin wondered what the prince was contemplating. It couldn't be very serious, or he would have heard of it from the other servants; it couldn't be of any political sort, for the guards and knights were not agitated, despite the upcoming trip. He and his father seemed to be in good speaking terms…Then, what?
"The bed's ready, Arthur." He said, and the blonde broke from his state to peer at the warlock.
"Ah, yes. Hand me my night shirt." He said, and Merlin went to the cupboard and removed a white linen shirt. He then returned to the table and offered Arthur the vestment. Arthur took it, his brows furrowed, and Merlin didn't get why he was frowning. He got the right shirt, didn't he?
"Help me remove my clothes."
"What?" he asked.
"I said, help me remove my clothes. I am tired." Arthur repeated, now looking at the suddenly panting servant.
Merlin gulped and started doing as he was told, undoing the laces of Arthur's red shirt with painfully slowly. He thought that, maybe if he was careful, he wouldn't touch Arthur in any way more than necessary.
Arthur was clearly eyeing him; he could feel the intensity of his gaze on the back of his neck. Merlin paused on a trick knot- damn Arthur, always dressing with haste in the morning- and his finger accidentally grazed Arthur's chest. Merlin's breath hitched and Arthur shivered under his touch. The warlock did not dare to continue his task, and waited for the prince to speak instead.
"Y-You may go." Arthur said, voice low, and Merlin did not look at him and slid out of the room as swiftly as he could. He had goose bumps from that moment that had not subsidized, even when he managed to finally enter on his own room, passing by a sleeping Gaius- was it that late?- and falling on his bed, his heart thrumming in his chest, not helping him get any sleep.
Thank you so much for reading. Please review with your opinion. Good or bad, I want to hear it al!
Love,
Kironomi
