Chapter 17
Gwaine has been drinking a fair bit, enjoying his time in Camelot beyond what I would like of him, but it's not unusual, or anything I haven't seen before. I try to talk into reason, saying he doesn't have money to buy the pickled eggs.
"Gwaine, please. You need to stop," I say to him, feeling horrible for trying to control him after having such a great day. But I don't know he's going to pay for all this.
"It's fine, Ellie," he drawls out drunkenly. "These are my friends! Another round on me boys!" The group of men around him cheer. My forehead thuds against the table, knowing I don't have any power over him right now.
"I need help," I mutter. "I'll be back!" I say to him, struggling to be heard over the sound of the men's cheers. Gwaine waves at me, another tankard handed too him. This is the only side I don't miss to him. It wasn't that he was a horrible person while he was drunk. It was just the fact that he saw it as an escape, one he doesn't want to give up. One that I can't drag him out of.
I rush out of the tavern, clambering all the way back up to the castle. I debate my options, finding them slim to none but I figure Merlin would be the best choice, considering Gwaine is fond of him.
I almost sprint up to his and Gaius' chamber, not wanting to leave Gwaine alone for too long, banging the door against the wall as I open it.
I rush in, Merlin and Gaius at the table eating their dinner.
"Merlin! I need your help." I pause as I scan over Gaius. He has something green splattered over his face. "Gaius?"
"Just Merlin's dinner," he dismisses as Merlin gives a sheepish smile.
"Ok." I shake my head, bringing my attention back to Merlin. "I need your help. He's not listening to me."
"Arthur?"
"No, Gwaine."
Xx
I lead Merlin down to the tavern, opening the door. It's like it is perfectly set up for our arrival. Gwaine slams a tankard on the table, wobbling around as he gets off his seat.
"Merlin!" he exclaims, hanging off a stranger's neck. "Meet my friends!"
I walk over to the innkeeper. "Could I have his bill please." He huffs, handing the literal page of items over to me. My stomach drops, reading over it. I silently hand it over to Merlin who reads over it in disbelief.
"Did you drink all this?" he asks the drunk.
"With some help from my new friends!"
The tavern cheers again. "He doesn't have any money," I say to Merlin. "I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen."
"I can't afford this either," he says.
"I know, but I didn't want to go to Arthur. He's going to murder me if I do." My fingernail becomes an outlet of my growing stress, sticking between my teeth. "Let's just get him out of here before he can spend anymore."
"How?"
As though an answer to our prayers, a heavy thump echoes throughout the tavern. We look over to where Gwaine used to stand, finding him unconscious on the floor. I send a silent thanks to the gods as Merlin and I walk over to drag him up and hour of the tavern.
He's heavy, full of alcohol and regret for the oncoming morning.
With an arm over each of our shoulders, we slowly make our way back up to the castle with only a few minor mishaps. My side with the wound burns, not having so much pressure on it since before it happened but I keep that to myself.
Just before we get inside the castle, Gwaine regains consciousness, making our job a little easier. I send another thanks to the gods since we have a few flights of stairs and I love Gwaine too much to just let him tumble down them.
I kick Merlin's door open.
"You two are the best friends I've ever had," he stammers, still drunk.
"You seem to have quite a few," Merlin muses. The three of us laugh, Merlin and I more-so at Gwaine rather than the joke.
"I'd love to see Arthur's face when he gets that bill," he says, sitting on the bed.
"You seem to think we have some type of immunity against him," I snort, sitting down next to him. "And you probably will since we're not taking the blame. I'm writing your name on it."
'Oh, come on Ellie, he's a Prince and your friend. You'll both live."
"Right. What with you and nobles?" Merlin questions. I simmer down a little, resting my hand on Gwaine's knee, already knowing the story.
"Oh, nothing. My father was a knight in Caerleon's army. He died in battle, leaving my mother penniless. And when she went to the King for help, he turned her away."
"You didn't know him?"
"Just some stories I've been told."
"Yeah, I know how that feels. I met my father just briefly before he died."
"Why?"
"He was banished."
This whole conversation makes me realised just how much I miss my own father. Soon it will be around four years.
"What had he done?"
"Nothing," Merlin replies. "He served the King."
"But the King turned against him? That doesn't surprise me."
"Arthur's not like that," Merlin defends. It makes me all the more glad that I never accepted the title of Lady when I had the chance. Gwaine's idea about nobles has been ingrained in him so long, I fear he would see me differently.
"Ha! Maybe. But none of them are worth dying for, heh?"
He leans back, aiming for his pillow but he hits his head against the wall.
"Gwaine!" I exclaim worriedly but the boys laugh. I shake my head at their antics, joining in. "I'll come see you tomorrow. Maybe I won't have my head anymore. If you want it, you'll have to find Arthur."
"I'm sure your head is going to stay right where it belongs, Ellie," he sniggers, closing his eyes.
Merlin and I leave the room and I hand the bill back over to Merlin.
"You're his servant, you get to give this to him."
Merlin sucks his lips, reading it over in disbelief again. "He's going to have all our heads."
"I'd rather him take them then the innkeeper. At least Arthur might feel guilty after a while."
"Please, his only regret would be that he has to find a new servant," Merlin snorts but pauses in thought. "He might see that as an upside actually."
"Maybe you could just slip it into his stuff, hope he doesn't notice what it's for," I suggest. "Or we could steal the money."
"No thanks. Wait…how do you know Gwaine anyways. I hadn't introduced you yet."
"Oh!" I exclaim, not realising he doesn't know. "Turns out you were rescued by the same man I was. That's the Gwaine. The one I travelled with for five months."
"That's him! I see why you liked him," he laughs, glancing back at the door. "That makes a lot more sense. He was asking if I knew an Ellie working in the castle. I had no idea who he was talking about."
"Yeah, he decided that nickname and I couldn't get him to stop. I hope Arthur likes him enough."
"He doesn't seem to like Arthur."
"It's not Arthur he doesn't like. In fact, I think he does but that whole noble thing is stopping him from realising it. They were civil enough when they met again today."
"How were they?"
"Fine, I think."
"Really? Arthur wasn't…" he trails off and I don't know what his insinuation is aiming at.
"Wasn't what?"
Merlin blinks, shaking his head. "Never mind. I just thought that if Arthur knew about you knowing Gwaine he might've reacted."
I shrug, thinking back to the meeting. "Reacted? Not anyway special," I recall.
Xx
"Good morning, Sire," I announce, opening the window curtains. "Merlin is running late and asked me to get you up. He's just grabbing your breakfast."
Arthur groans, the sun hitting his eyes, but no complaint leaves his mouth. He sits, up, pushing to covers off his body to stretch. I force my eyes to keep ahead of me.
"Wait, Merlin usually says rise and shine, doesn't he?" I ask aloud in my own thoughts. "Rise and shine!"
"Why he is running late?" Arthur asks, walking over to his wardrobe, pulling over a red shirt. How surprising.
"I think Gaius needed him for something. Not sure really but he was running pretty quickly."
"Typical," he mutters.
He saunters over to his desk, looking over the paperwork that was left out last night. As I walk past it, my eyes catch the tavern bill, resting neatly on top. My eyes widen as I bend over to pick up some fallen clothes, chucking them in a washing basket for Merlin to take later. My ears twitch, hearing a paper crinkle in his hands.
The door opens, Merlin entering through, still scampering.
"Sorry. I know, I'm late." The warlock puts the Prince's breakfast tray down on the table.
"Not at all," Arthur replies. Well, that isn't the answer Merlin or I are expecting. I almost drop the basket in shock.
Merlin eyes him, taking the basket from my hands. "Good."
"Sure you're alright? You're not sick, unsteady, about to burst into song?" He questions, interrogating the boy. I sigh, catching onto what he's insinuating.
"No, why?"
The sound of the paper crinkling reaches my ears again and I purse my lips, already knowing exactly what is about to be read aloud. And by the looks of it, so does Merlin.
"Fourteen quarts of mead, three flagons of wine, five quarts of cider…"
"I can explain."
"Four dozen pickled eggs."
"It was Gwaine," I say. "I couldn't stop him."
"He couldn't pay for it," Merlin adds.
"So you two said I would," he prompts, incredulous. I scratch the back of my head, wincing at the situation bestowed upon us. Damn you, Gwaine. I would say he's more trouble than he's worth but, he is in fact, worth it.
"Mm. You know, if we hadn't the innkeeper…he would have all three of our heads," Merlin defends.
"I fail to see the downside," Arthur deadpans. I stride up closer to his desk putting on my best puppy dog eyes.
"Arthur, please. He saved your life, and he's saved mine. We wouldn't have asked if we had the money on us, but we'll pay you back."
Arthur leans forward, glaring at me intensely. Instead of answering, he gets out of his seat, walking over to his locked cabinet. I straighten in surprise, wondering if the puppy dog eyes actually worked. I've never tried to use them before.
Merlin and I watch silently as he unlocks it, pulling something out. Turning back around, he chucks something through the air. I grab it on instinct, beaming as I feel the weight of coins.
"Thank you," I say, bowing my head.
"As for your repayment, you'll be cleaning some boots," he says, smiling sarcastically.
"Fair enough," Merlin grins.
"For the entire army," Arthur adds. Our smiles drop a little, but I shrug my shoulders. It really could be worse. Merlin nods, sucking his lips.
'I'll get right onto it," he says, leaving. I sigh, thinking about the line of boots to clean, on top of all my normal duties. At least Gwaine is going to be helping.
"Do you need anything else, Arthur? Before I go clean boots?"
Arthur shakes his head, leaning back on his desk. "Were you with Gwaine last night?" he asks, bringing the conversation somewhere entirely new.
"Yes," I sigh. "I did try and stop him but he's the type of man to do what he wants."
"No," he says, a small laugh escaping. "I can see that. You care a lot for him, don't you?"
"Of course," I nod. "He took care of me. I honestly don't know how I survived on my own out there." My own throat bubbles in laughter, thinking about the time that seems so long ago. "I owe him a lot."
Arthur nods slowly, crossing his arms. "If you don't mind me asking… are you two…?" I don't answer for a moment. Not because I don't know the answer, but I get lost in thought. Everything from Leon, to leaving, Gwaine, the kiss, coming back. Then ending things. What would have happened if I stayed with him? If I never came back to Camelot? I think my entire life would be different.
My eyes flicker to the Prince, realising I haven't answered. He's the reason I'm here. And that reason goes beyond duty.
"I understand," he says, smiling tightly. I open my mouth, shaking my head.
"No! No… sorry, I was just thinking," I blabber. My stomach drops, the blood rushing to my cheeks. "I'm going to go pay the innkeeper. Thank you. Again."
I leave sheepishly, clutching the coin sack tightly in my fist. I answered no, but it sounded pathetic. I don't have eyes for Gwaine, or anybody else. Gwaine is just…there. He's somebody that I could just be myself around, almost like Castor. But I see Castor as my brother. Gwaine is a close friend.
I shake my hands in the air, trying to physically rid myself of the thoughts. Venturing down to the tavern, I gloomily walk up to the innkeeper.
"For the drunk last night," I say, chucking the coins on the counter. He takes them, pocketing it.
"I won't be serving him unless I see the money first," he grumbles in a warning.
"Should've done that in the first place," I remark, unable to hold back the snark. The man glares at me, so I roll my eyes, taking my leave.
I walk back through the castle, searching around for wherever Gwaine and Merlin have gone off to. They would have to collect everybody's boots; a feat in itself. I don't have to look long, two men walking with wheelbarrows rounding a corner, full, of boots. I let out a breath of laughter, closing my eyes as I shake my head, walking up to join them. Gwaine looks disgruntled, sneering at the wheelbarrow.
"How's your head?" I ask, walking between them.
"You should know that I can handle my liquor," he shoots back.
"Oh, I don't mean from the liquor."
"Then what?" I smack him up the back of his head, sending his long brown hair up, adding more tangles. "Ow!"
"Serves you right," I huff. "Four dozen pickled eggs?! How did you even think you were going to be able to pay for it?"
"I always manage to get out of these things," he replies, still holding that go-lucky attitude. I shake my head again in disbelief, turning to Merlin.
"Five months of this I had to put up with," I say, shoving a thumb over my shoulder. Merlin sniggers.
Xx
My hands cramp in pain, scrubbing hard on the very last boot in the pile.
"Just one mark," I grunt, rubbing over this one spot of dirt. Gwaine and Merlin are just as tired as me, but they've already had their complaints so it's my turn. The dirt lifts and finally the boot is ready to be polished. I hand it to Merlin, sighing in relief. I try to drop the brush, but my hand is cramped in place. "Gwaine?" I cry softly, holding the hand up to him. "Help?"
Gwaine, who finished moments before laughs quietly. One hand wraps around my own while the other pries away the brush. The brush comes out easily enough, but my fingers are still curled. He pulls at my fingers, stretching them out. I groan in pain, biting my lip.
"Better?" he asks, flexing my now loose fingers around. I nod, stretching them myself.
"Thanks."
Merlin sighs loudly, falling back as he finishes the very last boot. "Finally."
Xx
Gwaine has taken the responsibility of returning the boots to their owners, letting Merlin go back to his normal job. I offered to help Gwaine, but he refused. I think he feels guilty about the whole thing. Not wanting to go back to sewing which would only be painful for my hands, I follow Merlin around like a lost puppy.
He leads us out to the training grounds where Arthur has called for him. We sit at the table, keeping the training weapons out and ready. It's interesting to watch, considering there are a bunch of knights around that I've never seen train before. Some are good, some are worse than I expected.
Leon and Castor make their way over, dressed in their normal cloaks and chainmail, not training.
"We heard about the man that saved Arthur," Castor says, resting on the table. "How'd the Prince take to being rescued?"
"Considering it was by another man, not too bad," I retort, squinting as the sun hits my eyes. "Actually, the man who saved him was the same that helped me."
"What do you mean?" Leon questions.
"When I left Camelot. Gwaine. It's the same man. I'll introduce you guys when he's about, he's amazing with a sword."
"The one that taught you? Saved you from the guy in the tavern?" Castor queries.
"Travelled with him for five months," I add in answer. Castor nods impressed.
"Where is he now?" Leon asks.
"Returning everybody's boots," I snort.
"Ah, so he's the unlucky bastard," Castor sniggers.
"Merlin and I had to help too," I say, glancing at the silent warlock. "My hands are still cramped."
"You look like you need a bit of practice," Sir Oswald comments to Arthur who has been attacking a practice dummy.
"Ah, you think so?"
"I know so," Oswald retorts. Just the way he says it creeps me out. As though Arthur is taking the statement a lot lighter than it was intended. Arthur gestures 'game on' and Merlin hands the knight a sword.
I watch curiously as the two fight. Oswald has a much more ruthless style, not as trained or precise as Arthur.
"You're rusty. You're not as quick as you used to be," Arthur muses, seeming amused but the other man is anything but.
"Still quick enough to hit you," he growls. For a moment, my worry grows. I'm afraid that he actually wants to hurt Arthur.
"I thought you were left-handed?"
"Yes. I am." He swaps the sword into his left hand. "I just wanted to give you a chance. Why don't we make this more interesting? 50 gold coins first clean hit."
"Make is a hundred," Arthur counters, quickly blocking Oswald's attack. The fight seems to be over in a blink of an eye, with Arthur pinning the knight down, tapping his chest with his sword. "You can keep your money."
Arthur leaves and Merlin walks over to pick up the sword Oswald dropped. I try to hide my smirk, somewhat proud of Arthur for that, especially since I had no like for the other knight. He just seems off.
"What are you smiling about?" Arthur asks, taking a sip of his water as sweat starts to pool on his face and neck. I lick my lips, gazing at him.
"Nothing," I say, looking away. "You know Oswald well?"
"Somewhat," he answers, looking back over at the man. "He's different from what I remember though." I hum, remembering the left-hand. That isn't something you just forget.