Thirty Six
Arthur tries to ferry Merlin out of Camelot. He tells him it's too dangerous to be here if Eldric suspects him. Tells him that Eldric will tell Uther. That he'll be killed.
But Eldric hasn't acted at all. He's keeping his distance. Just walking around with that smug knowing grin. Arthur's tearing his hair out, because, despite the danger, the horrible, terrible, looming danger...
Merlin refuses to leave.
He's scrubbing the floor; the grating noise of the hard bristled brush scraping up and down over the flagstones is starting to get on Arthur's last nerve. He's pacing up and down, worried scowl firmly in place. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch... dunk. The brush goes in the bucket, and Merlin swirls it around in the soapy water with a gloop gloop sound. Then... Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch...
"Merlin!" Arthur growls, and the serving boy looks up, brush frozen in his hand, and a surprised look on his face.
"Arthur?" he's so innocent, so naive to the danger, just carrying on like nothing wrong and that he couldn't be dragged away in chains at any moment.
"Arrgh!" Arthur cries, throwing his hands in the air, and flopping like a limp rag on the red coverlet of his bed. Scritch scratch scratch. Scritch scratch scratch. Merlin carries on scrubbing with a shrug, until. "Merlin!" comes the cry, "just... go somewhere... ok?"
"Go?" Merlin frowns.
"Just... get out! Ok! Your driving me crazy! Just..."
There's a loud knock at the door, and Gwaine's voice hollers;
"Arthur!" Arthur rolls his eyes, and calls Gwaine in. "Brought you your practice sword back from the field, you left it out there...Oh! and your father's called a audience in the great hall tomorrow morning. He's knighting one of the new knights." Arthur sighs and pulls himself into a sitting position to receive the sword. "Right, I'm done for the day then... to the tavern!" Gwaine cries with a grin, and starts towards the door.
"Sir Gwaine?" Arthur calls him back, and the knight spins on his heels to face him.
"Arthur? You need something?"
"I... yes. Take Aaron here with you will you?" Gwaine looks down at Merlin with a frown.
"Take him?"
"That's what I said Gwaine."
"To the Tavern?" Gwaine's eyebrows knit with a confused frown, because he fully intends to get rip-roaringly drunk, and Arthur appears to be suggesting he take this boy with him too, this boy who so much seems to remind him of... Gwaine shakes his head. Never mind. He was gone. And not coming back. Right?
"Yes... he's getting under my feet, And... Just, go. Attend to me later, alright Aaron?"
"Yes, Sire." Merlin nods with a confused, slightly upset frown, and quickly empties his water bucket out the window, then stashes the bucket and brush in a cupboard. When he turns, Gwaine's staring at him with a suspicious look, his mouth curving slight with a frown.
"Sir Gwaine?" Merlin asks, and Gwaine shakes himself, eyes focusing roughly, and grins.
"Aye, Aaron was it?" Merlin nods "Right! Come with me then lad, I'll show you a good time! See you Princess!" And Gwaine drags the boy away by the arm.
Merlin looks back over his shoulder, eyes pleading. What have you put me in for Arthur? They cry.
"Now there was this onetime..." Gwaine begins to ramble, Merlin's arm clutched tightly in his grasp as he pulls him away and out of sight.
Arthur can't help but laugh.