Chapter Twelve
Arthur woke up to a bright and beautiful morning, which made him all the more miserable. He wished there was some way for him the control the weather in Camelot as he pleased. 'That would be perfect,' he thought.
If Arthur would have had control of the weather on this particular morning he was certain the sky would be filled with a tempest that would shake the castle to its foundation with its fury and hurt. Instead, Arthur rolled over with a moan and clenched the bunched piece of red cloth even tighter in his hand. Heaving a deep sigh, he brought Merlin's scarf to his face and inhaled the familiar scent. Having previously been worn around his former manservant/almost boyfriend's neck it was permeated with pure eu de Merlin.
It had been three days since his fight with Merlin in the alley, and Arthur had not exactly been fairing very well. He had refused his father's efforts to find him a new manservant and was spending his days alternating between moping about his chambers and storming about them pounding the walls and breaking things. He hadn't tried to find Merlin again. Somewhere inside of him he understood Merlin's point. One day, Arthur was going to be king and it was his duty to produce an heir. Arthur understood, but he'd be damned if he was simply going to accept that sitting down. At this moment, his feelings for Merlin were what were real to him and he couldn't deny it.
He took another inhale of the scarf that he had found so carelessly discarded in the alley. Wondering if Merlin was missing it, he closed his eyes. He could picture Merlin standing there, right in front of him with this exact scarf wrapped so perfectly around his slender neck. Wouldn't half of his outfits be completely ruined without it? Arthur certainly wasn't going to return it, however. It was his last memento of the shortest and sweetest romance of his life.
Could he even consider it a romance? It had been so short. Just a few blinks of an eye and few stolen kisses and then it was over. Was that why Merlin had found it so easy to let go? Had it been too short to really mean something to him? Arthur had no way of knowing and with a frustrated groan he flopped over onto his stomach. To him, it hadn't really felt short at all because even if they hadn't been kissing and such for long, he had felt so close to Merlin for so long. As he lay there, he realized that he had never felt so close to anyone in his life as he had to Merlin. He felt as if they had been in a relationship for years, rather than days.
He was splayed upside down all across his bed when he heard a timid knock on the door and the swish of air as it opened.
"Arthur?" A familiar voice called.
"Gwen?" Arthur asked, startled. Stuffing the precious scarf under his pillow he sat up hastily. "What are you doing here?"
"The king sent me to look after you." She said with a blush. "He said if you wouldn't accept another manservant he would stop sending them - men, that is."
"Ah," Arthur sighed. He remembered what Merlin had told him, 'Maybe you should talk to Gwen? You know she talks about you all the time'. Well fine. If that's what Merlin wanted, that's exactly what he would get.
