Part 11
Two days had come and gone in the blink of an eye.
Two days of Arthur knocking – later banging – against the wooden door asking and then demanding to be let in. To know if Merlin was alright, to let him or Gaius treat his injuries. But Merlin refused stubbornly and in quiet protest by keeping the ante-chamber locked. On the second day the prince's attempts had become more weary and sporadic, his voice ragged from to much fruitless begging to get a reaction from Merlin, telling hi to „at least eat something, for heaven's sake".
Nothing.
It felt almost like his first weeks in the castle. Hidden in that room, separated from the outside world. He also felt like he was dying.
Two nights without sleep to keep the nightmares at bay. Before je used to dream of the deep waters of home, the darkness close to Avalon where he'd been protected by his kin. Now he was feeling the connection slowly ceasing as well as the breath of the immortal realm in his chest. There was not much left and when it was gone, what would happen then?
New tears welled up in his eyes and Merlin let them falls because there was nu use to be strong anymore. He'd never cried before he was stolen away from home. Crying was for mortals, for humans. Not for a creature like him. Still, it felt good.
A gentle rapping on the other side of the door startled him. Arthur's latest demand to talk to him had been a few hours ago. The sun was just about to set, though he couldn't see it from his small window.
Steeling himself for Arthur's pleads or orders Merlin was already covering his ears when a soft voice, definitely not Arthur's, spoke to him.
„Merlin?" It asked. „Are you there?" It was Gwen.
„You're probably busy but I was hoping you would have a little time for me." Gwen was visiting him, probably on Arthur's orders. Merlin felt his stomach turn into knots tangled by growing fury. Since the prince couldn't achieve anything he'd bribe Merlin with sweet Guinevere and the second he opened the door the royal prat would barge into the room to drag him outside. Turning away from the door Merlin hugged his legs tightly to his chest, determined to block everything out. Unfortunately Gwen's tactics where better than he could expect. Minutes ticked by without another word, though he could hear her move behind the wood that shut her out. Even her breathing flowed over to him getting louder every time. And then she spoke his name in that tone. One so heavy with sadness, laced with longing and overshadowed by concern that Merlin was rendered unable to keep up the pretence.
„Just so you know," she continued seemingly deflated, „this wasn't Prince Arthur's idea. He came to me, yes, to ask for advice but it was my wish to speak to you. I wanted to see you. Make sure you were alright." She had become barely audible towards the end and Merlin was straining to understand the last words. So much, he unconsciously had gotten up from the bed and pressed his ear against the door, his hand already turning the key while the other one was pressing the handle simultaneously. Guinevere's face came into view, her expression a mixture of surprised relief and the delight of seeing him alive and on his feet. Sadly it only lasted for a moment until she took a closer look and a shadow fell on every positive emotion showing Merlin just how pathetic he must look. He wanted to take a step back, telling her to leave, when she flung her arms around him burying her face in the crook of his neck.
„Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry..." She started to mumble against his skin. „What this bastard did to you and I could've stopped it if I'd just kept an eye out for you. „A sob forced itself from Gwen's throat and the next thing he knew his arms hugged her tight to his chest while he could feel her tears tickle down his neck.
It took Gwen a while to gather herself and become aware of the situation. But even when her tears stopped she still held on, her hands stroking Merlin's back to comfort when she felt that he wasn't willing to let go just now. Only after releasing her of his own volition, looking confused and almost scared of his actions, did Gwen dare to take her arms away.
They ended up on the bed, since there was no other place to sit. Merlin's body automatically curled in on itself, tense, his fingers digging into the covers. Gwen sat down gently, leaving a few centimetres to spear between them. The tension and air of rejection around Merlin made her slightly nervous, she had to force her jittery leg to stop. It was clear that she had one chance for this conversation to go right.
„I want you to know that I'm here for you if you should need someone to talk to. Or just to listen." Her hand found its way over to his side, hoping to stir in Merlin the craving for comfort from before. But he kept on ignoring it while staring out of the window at the cloudless spring sky.
Her words echoed in his head. She wanted him to talk to her. Gwen had understood him before, when he hadn't said a word and now he actually could. Talk. About everything he wanted. About-
„What did you see, Gwen?" His voice was still scratchy, not the low soft rumble he was used to. More like an old man's rusty mumbling after having spend to much time in his study breathing dust. A bit like Gaius'.
If Gwen had noticed anything she didn't let it show. But either way her dark brown eyes had gine round in awe for it was her first time to hear him speak at all. Especially without his magic playing tricks on her mind. There was a rustle of fabric when she adjusted her position to turn around and study his profile. He'd probably taken her by surprise. And somehow it bemused him.
„W-what did you say?" She stuttered, a little breathless, not well at hiding her astonishment. He gave her some time by slowly angling his body towards hers. Their eyes met and Gwen was gaping at him, making him smile involuntarily.
„I said: What did you see?"
Gwen blinked, finally processing the question and still not understanding it. „What did I see when? What do you mean?" Merlin turned completely around to face her, his mouth barely suppressing a smirk now.
„What did you see when I sang at the feast? You were there, weren't you?" He could make out the exact second Gwen realised what he meant. She suddenly sat back, her eyes lowering to take in the bedsheets as if they had become very interesting. Biting her lip she took a moment to answer. „Oh, I, uhm, it was nothing special, you know..." With a shrug of her shoulders she tried to dismiss the question but Merlin was having non of it.
„How can it be nothing special? When the song gives you a dream of something you desire? It must be special to you at least." Without thinking about it he shuffled into her space. „Come on Gwen. What was your dream?" Merlin wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, trying to lure her to trust him with all her secrets. When Gwen raised her eyelids shyly to spare him a glance her cheeks flushed a bright red.
„You're insufferable." With a growl she shoved him away. „Good, I'll tell you but don't you dare ridiculing me for it."
„I wouldn't dream of doing that." Merlin chuckled, his ears red from amusement. In an attempt to hide her nervousness Gwen grabbed her skirt, delicate fingers kneading the fabric firmly. She cleaned her throat.
„Good, so, when you sang, I...it was quite overwhelming. It was like being suddenly bathed in waves of sunlight. All warm and comfortable and peaceful."
The smirk on Merlin's lips had diminished while Gwen's eyes had gone distant upon reliving the memory. Her voice became a soft hush filled with the happiness felt in the past. Never had Merlin, or probably any siren to that day, have any chance to be told what it was like to be enchanted. To be touched by this power. Very person who had ever come across it had drowned. Having somebody speak so fondly of the experience let an unexpected warmth spread in his chest.
"And through this light," Gwen continued, "I saw someone heading in my direction." She seemed to grow even more flustered, the distance in her eyes becoming slightly less as if she was becoming aware again that somebody was listening to something so personal. Merlin didn't push her to go on. Instead he was fixating his friend's blissful expression with curiousness and wonder alike. "He was wearing armour and...and a red cloak. Like the knights of Camelot. And he was handsome. Skin in the colour of caramel and his hair combed back in a dark wave. It was brown like those treats you can get at the market sometimes. Yeah..." She breathed in deeply and let air flow out of her chest in a long sweet sigh, completely enthralled by the picture of a man her mind had given her. "His eyes as well." Gwen said. "I've never seen such beautiful eyes. Just like chestnuts." Slowly she had started to angle her body away from Merlin, leaning backwards to practically melt into the wall, her gaze wandering to the ceiling. Still, it was not what she saw. Merlin mirrored her posture and tried to imagine the picture she was painting. It was hard to envision the illusion his magic had triggered in her mind. Her face and voice alone told everything.
"Those eyes, Merlin. Heaven, I wanted to gaze into them for the rest of my life. And when he began to talk it was pure bliss." An undefinable sound left her mouth and her hands raised from the mattress for a moment just to fall back in the next, as if she had given up on her ability to grab what she had seen. "His voice was so warm and soft...almost...I can't describe it... maybe like lavender oil mixed with honey dibbling down my skin." The words were pushed out between giggles that became louder by the second echoing in the small room like hundred little bells. It was obvious that Gwen had slipped finally into her own world, bathing in her memories of this dashing knight. For Merlin those men he had encountered upon his arrival posed just another thread. Seeing them through Gwen's eyes and hearing what a mortal girl fancies was quite a strange experience.
"So, what did he say?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper since he didn't want to startle Gwen from reliving her dream.
"He said..." A lazy grin began to creep over her face, giving her an almost drunken expression, while her hands lay down over her heart. "He told me that he'd been searching for me throughout all the kingdoms because I'm the woman of his most desired dreams. That I was divine to him, like a goddess he came to seek in times of need. And then," her face was practically radiating with heat, "he asked if I'd marry him." A high pitched sigh left her mouth, the weight of it literally dragging her down onto the bed to hide her face in the covers. "Oh Merlin," she mumbled, her voice muffled through the thick fabric, "it was the most wonderful thing I've ever dreamt."
Captivated by the way Gwen told every detail, the story sweet on her lips, Merlin hadn't even noticed how he'd gone on all fours and ducked his head to catch every shred of it. Not long and it became obvious that she wasn't entitled to continue on her own. Thus, he started nudging her shoulder in an attempt to get it out of her but Gwen only looked up stupidly her eyes clouded by the memory.
"You have to tell me the rest of it!" He demanded. "What rest?" Confusion was mixed into her question. The brown curls of her hair were completely tangled, a result of the hair-band coming loose by writhing around. Now they framed her face in a wild manner, letting Gwen appear even more addled. Merlin pouted and poked her shoulder again.
"Your answer, of course! What dud you say?" The question was full of excitement.
"Uhm, nothing. I answered nothing."
"What? Why? I thought he was the knight of you dreams."
For whatever this made her laugh all of a sudden, the bed shaking with her trembling body.
"What's so amusing?" Merlin demanded slightly irritated, but Gwen only waved her hand dismissively while struggling to calm down.
"It's just, you're so invested in this. It's adorable, that's all. But I have to disappoint you. I said nothing because that's where the illusion ended...when you stopped singing."
"Oh." It was a weak respond. Merlin sat back and eyed his friend up and down. Gwen didn't seem to be upset about the abrupt end of magical scene, still he wondered if she would ask him to sing again. Just to be ably to restore what had been lost. Of course he would deny her the favour since he had no power over what she saw. An altogether different dream could come to her or the original scene could be rewritten, making her doubt what she already had. After all there be no satisfying conclusion to it. He could sing until exhaustion caught him and Gwen would die of starvation and thirst. The dream only ends when life and soul are gone, but here in Camelot it would have no possibility to reach the siren's domain. Without direction it would roam freely, probably unsatisfied, restless and, as a consequence, disturbing the natural spirits all around them. The soul would stay, unable to leave and find peace. It was no death he wished upon his friend. First lost in a dreamworld
until lost in the world of the dead. Actually, Merlin didn't wish for Gwen's death at all.
They both sat in companionable silence not truly noticing how the sun was slipping further behind the horizon and the room became much darker, until they hear a door falling heavily into its lock. Gwen's head whipped around to find Merlin's gaze and he couldn't quite hide the anxiety in it. Footsteps dragged through the room outside his door, slow and loaded, revealing that the body they were supporting shouldered a heavy weight. With their approach they made Merlin's breathing quicken. But the dreaded knocking never came. He hadn't been aware of how strongly his muscles had tensed when Gwen's hand closed around his biceps to shake him slightly.
"Everything's fine, Merlin", she whispered. "He promised he wouldn't push you anymore and he'll keep to his words."
He looked at her, her face half hidden in the shadows, but still being able to make out the sincerity in her eyes. Merlin nodded once but keeping her gaze suspended for a little longer. Gwen's grip loosened to stroke his arm a few times, then she glanced towards the door. Slipping from the bed she faced Merlin for the last time.
"I have to go now. I stayed of my duties for to long. Good thing I got orders from the prince." She chuckled quietly. "And Merlin, by the way, you have a nice voice." Betting an eye at his gaping expression she turned around and was gone the door slowly closing behind her. He could already hear her addressing Arthur when finally a tiny smile tucked on his lips.
Arthur had tried to keep himself occupied during Guinevere's visit to Merlin. He was aware of the fact that it would be impossible to get Merlin to wear the collar again without forcing him, which had almost made him refuse the maid's request.
When she had approached him around noon, his meal in hands, she had seemed wary of how to bring the matter about. Arthur knew very well how ill-tempered he could get when frustration ate at him. And frustration it was that plagued him along with worry and fear. Considering that it had been very brave of Guinevere to state her request in the most patient voice while still urging him to approve, to give in and just let her deal with it. Of course Arthur didn't actually need anyone to deal with anything. He was the Crown Prince. The situation was well under control. His manservant was under control. If he only had been able to get close to him just once after their last conversation. Only a glance, a touch to his forehead to make sure he was well.
Arthur groaned burying his face in hands as he was walking down the corridor towards his room. Though he had washed he still felt a bit sweaty but the exhaustion that came with drilling the knights until sunset didn't feel satisfying this time. He was lacking concentration and due to his usual discipline paired with a strict training regimen they had made him suffer the mistakes in every bone. At least the thrumming in his muscles distracted from the dull ache in his chest.
Dread had started to grow there since the feast and just wouldn't abate. Not with the accusing words still replaying in his ears. And it was growing again, with every step he took towards his chambers. It was mocking him. The door Merlin had shut on his face two nights ago. The door that he won't open even when Arthur lowered himself to begging. And he had been begging with all his heart to a magical creature. What was he thinking?
Before drawing a remotely reasonable explanation he reached his room, revealing a slightly upset looking Guinevere who was just shutting the door to the ante-chamber. The maid started when she raised her eyes and found herself in front of the prince. Taking a step backwards she hurried to curtsy in the appropriate manner.
"Your Highness, I didn't expect to see you back so soon."
Instead of acknowledging the comment he gestured towards the table, getting himself a cup of water when he sat down.
"I dismissed the knights early."
"So was the training to your satisfaction then?"
Her question made him almost choke and let him cough up some lukewarm water. How long had it been here? Shouldn't have Merlin brought in a new jug- Arthur stopped dead in this train of thought. Stupid.
"No", he said huskily. "It wasn't any good today, so I put an end to it." He could hear the maid edging closer to the table.
"I'm sorry to hear that", she replied sincerely. "Do you need anything from Gaius to lessen the pain in your muscles?"
Arthur smiled a little over the question. She was always so caring. He knew it had been a good decision to accept her help when it came to Merlin.
"Yes, thank you. That'd be very helpful. But before you leave, please..." His throat felt suddenly even rougher, closing up by itself, making it difficult to voice his plea. "...please, I must know..."
Guinevere obviously noticed his discomfort because she nodded, thus keeping him from having to speak Merlin's name. It had been hard these past two days. Always filled with regret and the feeling of a problem unsolved.
"Of course, My Lord. May I sit down?" she asked quietly but with confidence.
There was a bit of embarrassment on Arthur's side for not having thought of offering her a seat earlier. Spinning around he mumbled words of confirmation and pulled a chair out from under the table. She sat down gracefully, her face serious.
"As you have permitted I've spend some time with him", she began after Arthur had seated himself across from her. Anticipation pulled his body taut like a bow-string.
"He didn't want to open the door at first. But I think that was 'cause he thought it was you." It took her a second to realise what she just said but when she did Guinevere's eyes grew double in size. Her mouth was still moving though no sound came out while she was trying to find the right words.
"Please, forgive me, My Lord, I don't know what I'm saying", she stammered, holding a hand in front of her lips and looking quite flustered.
"No, don't be sorry. You are right. He won't talk to me. That's-", Arthur had to take a breath, "that's why I was thankful for this favour." When he looked up she met his eyes unwavering, her own shining bright and full of sympathy.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know..."
"It's alright. I just want to know how he is."
Blinking a few times Guinevere seemed to gather her thoughts. Her hands folded in her lap, her eyes falling to the same place.
"As I said, I talked to him for some time. Physically he seems to be better. But he didn't...he didn't want to talk about anything that happened."
"How could you not talk about it? What good does it do when he's finally speaking with someone and you let him avoid the most important issue?"
The look the maid gave him upon those words could only be described as suspicious and Arthur couldn't understand why. He wanted to help Merlin; he thought that much was clear. Guinevere sighed.
"Sire, please forgive me my boldness but despite the circumstances of his coming into your services I consider Merlin a friend. For that reason I didn't press the matter and respected his decision to keep the details to himself."
Arthur felt a bit dumbstruck. It appeared she was angry with him. The hard lines that had suddenly been forged into her usually tender expression indicated as much. Also she was fidgeting, letting Arthur know she was not done yet. He swallowed a reply to urge her to continue.
"Guinevere, it seems you have some more to say."
"I...I didn't visit him to interrogate him." She kept her eyes trained on her hands which had come up on the table, her voice a little softer again. "I went to him to offer comfort."
"It was no interrogation I wanted from you." The words came out of their own volition, trying to defend his actions on the spot. Reaching for his blond strands Arthur started to tug at them, exasperated. "But what else can I do when he doesn't talk?" he spilled gripping his hair with even more strength.
Before he actually managed to rip anything out Guinevere's small hands took his and brought them down on the table's rough surface, keeping them there with a light touch.
"Talking about it isn't helping him, right now. Especially when he's being forced. He had been made to do things through violence before, and I'm sure, or so I hope, you don't want to take after those who did it. Am I right, My Lord?"
He refused to look up, just fixing his eyes on her dark, slender fingers holding his hands down, which were so much bigger and lighter but as worn as hers. Suddenly the title felt wrong coming from her, when she was the one teaching him a lesson.
"Guinevere, call me Arthur." He finally raised his head and caught her biting her lips. "Please", he insisted, making her take a deep breath.
"Very well, Arthur." His name sounded so tender on her lips compared to how his father would say it. "What I'm trying to say is, give him time and let him come to you. And when he does you'll be there. Not with questions or accusations but with an open ear and heart. The same things you would give your subjects when you become king."
Her words drew another smile from him and he didn't hold it back. She was right. There was no use in pushing Merlin until he got a reaction from him. Merlin didn't trust him anymore and not respecting his wish to be left alone wouldn't improve the situation. A warm feeling flooded his chest, a mixture of thankfulness and new hope. Arthur got up and took Guinevere's hands into his, ignoring her surprised look.
"Thank you, Guinevere. For being honest with me. Not everyone would dare to do so and I appreciate it. If there's anything I can do..."
"Your High- Arthur", she interrupted him, smiling herself now, "as long, as you care for Merlin and let me visit him again, it will be all I'd ask of you."
"Of course, any time." Only then he let go of her, a bit embarrassed by his own actions. But if Guinevere noticed she didn't say anything. Taking a step back the maid gathered her skirts in hands and curtsied. She fell back into her official manner of addressing him and said:
"I will be on my way back to the Lady Morgana then, Sire."
"Do that. I've kept you far too long."
"Not longer than necessary. And Arthur?"
"Mh?"
"You may call me Gwen, if it suits you." Shooting him a last glance she was gone from his chambers the sound of her footsteps growing more distant by the second.
Arthur sat back down on the chair he had occupied before, starring about the room. Nothing could be heard from the ante-chamber and maybe Merlin was asleep. He wished him to be.
"Now, that we have reached a decision regarding the water-well repairs in the lower town let's come to the last point on today's agenda."
Uther nodded towards his advisor Monmouth signaling him to continue.
"Your Highness, the last topic to discuss is the compensation that must be provided by King Bayard of Mercia for the harm inflicted upon Prince Arthur's manservant through Prince Hunter of Mercia."
Arthur, who was sitting next to his father, as always, glanced towards the heavy doors knowing that Bayard and Hunter would be let into the council room at any second. Usually both of them as well as their entourage would have been gone by now. A part of the Mercian guests, Lords, Ladies and their servants had already left. Bayard had been furious about the whole affair, he probably still was.
All over the castle he could be heard constantly raging about their treatment of being held like prisoners until the decision could be made. It was needless to say that in order to avoid things getting more heated he and his son had recieved every comfort a royal guest could wish for. Arthur would have rather seen both of them locked in the darkest and dirtiest dungeon Camelot could provide. Sadly he had no say in it and it didn't matter anymore. Today he needed to focus on getting the council's approval.
"King Bayard and Prince Hunter of Mercia!" announced one of the guards when the wing-doors opened catching everyone's attention. Father and son walked in stiffly towards the long end of the table while two of Uther's advisors cleared their chairs.
"Please, sit." Uther addressed them, pointing at the now empty seats.
The sour expression on Bayard's face was enough to tell everyone in the room his thoughts on the matter. Hunter on the other side looked wary of his surroundings. Arthur was convinced that Bayard had assured his son that he had nothing to fear, that the whole affair was ridiculous and just a matter of status and Camelot's honour being hurt. He might have told him that they were going to buy themselves out of this mess. And Bayard would be right in his prediction because that was the usual way to deal with the situation.
Unfortunately for them Arthur would not let them get off the hook so easily. For what he had done Hunter had to suffer and Arthur would make sure of it.
Staring both of his visitors down he waited for his father to continue. Uther was sitting back in his chair, seemingly in leisure, but there was a sharpness in his pale eyes that betrayed his relaxed posture. The king was not relaxing. He was reinforcing roles and status. And Bayard caught on to it quite fast, straightening his back while Hunter stayed almost as perceptive as a loaf of bread still slumping in his seat.
"Prince Hunter of Mercia! The crime you have committed is clear and the accusation supported by evidence" announced Uther in an authoritative manner. "You molested and harassed a member of this household to the extent that they are not able to continue their work properly. In the business of ruling every day must follow an impeccable schedule. Every disturbance causes a waste of time and resources, which is now the case. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Hunter's expression was priceless, Arthur thought. The Mercian prince hadn't even dared to take his eyes off the floor until now. Upon being addressed by Uther himself, who spoke his name as if he was spitting out something foul, his head snapped up. Ogling the ruler he looked like a rabbit caught in a trap.
"Ah, I-" he stammered but Bayard cut him off before the situation was worsened through mindless babble.
"My son has been made aware of his unacceptable behaviour and regrets his actions sincerely. He will be given time to reflect on them after our return to Mercia." Bayard intervened, one of his arms holding Hunter's like a vice to keep him quiet.
The prince didn't seem like he was regretting anything but being caught in the act. But of course words weigh more than honesty between kingdoms and what weighs even more between kings was wealth. Bayard knew that.
"As an apology and compensation towards Camelot I am ready to accept any punishment that is deemed suitable in the council's eyes."
Arthur glanced at his father, scanning the man's face for any clues to his reaction regarding Bayard's obviously rehearsed speech full of polite lies. Uther wouldn't believe any of it, being too practised in matters of diplomacy and court talk, as well as knowing his counterpart too well. His unimpressed demeanour indicated as much. As he angled his face in Monmouth's direction his half-lidded eyes emphasized his boredom.
"What is the appropriate compensation in that case?"
The advisor and librarian got his cue and fumbled with his papers, getting up again. He cleared his throat, sounding like a stack of scrolls rustled by a breeze.
"In a case like this, Your Majesty, it is usual to either gift the damaged party with 500 furlongs of farmland or to pay 500 golden coins."
At this Bayard tensed immensely, making clear to Arthur that the stated amount had neither been expected nor was the Mercian King willing to pay. Mercia's wish to compete with Camelot had always been great but never obtained. 500 of anything would be a lot for the kingdom if not too much. Fortunately Arthur was keen to help.
"My I speak, father?"
Heads turned towards him as soon as he spoke while eyebrows were raised in surprise. No wonder. The punishment had already been discussed before the council had even started and Arthur hadn't objected then.
Arthur could feel annoyance radiating off his father but there was also a certain curiosity. Uther nodded his approval after a short hesitation. Bracing himself for the coming conversation Arthur got up. This could either go his way or back-fire.
"Honoured council, though the decision regarding the stated crime has already been made and how to handle it has been long written in Camelot's laws, I would like to suggest a different procedure this time."
An excited murmur went through the room gazes leaving him and wandering to Uther, who's interest had been sparked considering how he was leaning forward, one hand on the table.
"Tell us why you had that change of mind, Arthur."
"Despite what happened Mercia is still our esteemed ally and it is not my wish to weaken them by taking from them."
He could sense Bayard's eyes digging into his head trying to reveal Arthur's intentions. But he stayed calm. "Furthermore the victim is my manservant and I consider him my subject and myself as the offended party. Thus I should be the one to choose."
When a few council members opened their mouths to raise objections the Crown Prince held up his hand to stop them. The moment was crucial. "I am aware that this is unusual. So I want to give Prince Hunter the opportunity to influence the outcome of his trial."
Phrasing his suggestion like it was a generous, offer Arthur kept his eyes on Hunter. The bastard had been staring at him since Arthur had started talking, his face full with distrust. Arthur held his gaze.
"I propose that Prince Hunter and I measure our worth and talent in a sword fight. If he wins he is free to leave without penalty. All of his actions will be forgiven."
"And if you win?" Bayard cut in.
"If I win the decision of his punishment lies with me."
Arthur didn't wait until his father called the meeting to an end. His proposal, though accepted, had raised a small controversy between the council-members. When Uther agreed byarguing that Bayard had approved of any punishment picked by the court the latter took the sentence grudgingly on behalf of his son.
Hunter was too stunned by the developements to properly react. Various discussions broke out around the table but Arthur payed them no attention. Without throwing their two guests another glance he excused himself and walked out into the hallway.
The sun had climbed the sky in the last few hours, turning morning into noon. Walking through the citadelArthur filled his lungs with fresh air. The smell swirling in it promised an early summer. Servants were crossing the yard joking with maids while a group of guards was standing on a shadowy patch laughing loudly about a tale that was being told among them. Arthur knew he should go over to reprimand them but they were radiating so much joy. A trait that seemed to be missing from his daily life more and more. He couldn't bring himself to do it.
Arthur knew Merlin wouldn't answer when he knocked on his door. Still he felt his confidence shaken when the attempt was in vain again and the room stayed stubbornly silent. But this once Arthur didn't lose his temper to urge Merlin to come out and finally obeyed his command. He had only come to tell him something. Something he hoped would be to a siren's pleasing.
"Merlin? It's me, Arthur." Cursing the small tremble in his voice he rubbed a hand over his face. Nervousness climbed up his throat, numbing it. His tongue felt useless.
"Listen, I didn't come to...I only wanted you to know that today the decision for Prince Hunter's punishment was made." He strained his ears in hope to pick up something, any kind of noise from the other side of the door. Anything that would indicate Merlin was hearing what he had to say. But he wasn't granted his wish.
"I know you don't care for honour," he continued a little disheartned. "But I do. And I challenged him to a swordfight. He has to face me and when he loses,thatI will make sure of, I'll decide his final punishment."
Arthur licked his chapped lips trying to gather more spit in his dryed-out mouth. Putting his hand on the rough surface in front of him he leaned in closer as if to make absolutly certain that Merlin would pick up the last bit of information he was going to tell him. "My decision will be yours, Merlin. I'll grant it to you. You, as a siren, may not care for the honour of men but I'm certain you're interested in revenge. And I'll get you your chance, that is my promise."