Chapter 19

"High ho, high ho, it's off to work we go," I sing, adding the whistle to the end. Merlin, the poor thing, has been putting up with my nonsense singing all morning. I've just had this urge to sing random tunes that happen to cross my mind. "High ho, high ho, high ho."

The past few weeks I've been swamped with work, barely able to leave my room. There was only one night I wasn't tired and gathered enough energy to drag Castor off for a training session. Other than that, my fingers are the only things that have been working hard. That and my arms, lugging around heavy material.

Merlin and I are both carrying laundry baskets, both finally having a chance to do our own washing instead of waiting on the needs of everybody else. I beam, noticing the soft blue material of his shirt.

"You're wearing the shirt I made," I note, tugging the basket back up higher. "Does it fit alright?"

"Yeah," he grins. "It's really nice. I feel like I need to save it for a special occasion."

"I think doing our own laundry is a special occasion at this stage," I snort, pushing the door open to the castle washroom. "Let me know if any of your shirts need mending and I'll make a note to grab them when they're dry.

"Will do."

The next hour of our lives is spent scrubbing hard and playing harder. With nobody else around, we are free to muck around, splashing water at each other. I even twist one of my shirts over Merlin's head, dripping all the dirty water onto him. He gets his revenge, throwing soggy socks at my face which I fail to deflect. I gag, throwing them back at him.

By the time we leave, our whole bodies have a random assortment of wet patches and the floor is slippery enough that we have to tread carefully not to slip over, feeling sorry for the next people to enter.

A servant knocks into me as we round a corner, her head down.

"Sorry," she squeaks quietly and continues to walk around us to the laundry room. My eyes flicker to her chest, seeing a glint of green on there but she's already gone by the time I can open my mouth or even see where the green came from.

I've seen her around before, a quiet girl who doesn't really speak much but she's there. I shake my head, deciding that it's not worth the effort of thought.

"You alright?" Merlin asks.

"Yeah, just thought I saw something." I glance back but she's gone, the door already closed behind her. "Is Arthur busy tonight?"

"I don't think so. He has a meeting with the knights just before dinner but from what I know he's free. Why?"

"Might drag him out to do some training," I muse in thought. "I haven't been out much."

"I think he would like that too," Merlin replies. "He's been grumpy lately."

I pout, not wanting to fight with a grumpy Prince. "So, shouldn't I avoid him then?"

"Nah, I think he needs it. He hasn't had a break either. He won't be grumpy to you."

"Are you kidding," I scoff. "He yelled at me for doing my job once. I was literally putting his clothes away." I let out a breath of air, shaking my head at the memory.

"He was stressed then, not grumpy. Two different emotions," Merlin protests. "Besides, I'll make sure he gets his favourite dinner. That always puts him in a better mood."

"You're a legend, Merlin," I laugh. "Quite literally actually," I add in afterthought.

The rest of the day goes by slowly, with the anticipation of tonight since it's the only event I'm looking forward to. I swear that somehow, time has slowed down, and each minute becomes a second but maybe it's just because I don't have a clock.

I busy myself with a new dress for Morgana, who hasn't been causing us issues lately but I know it's only a matter of time before she and Morgause come up with another plan to bring Camelot's king to his knees. But of course, Merlin and I will be behind him, shoving the King back up with a long stick so nobody can see us.

After Morgana's threat on Merlin's life, we have kept her betrayal to ourselves, hoping that she will out herself. I have no idea if she's suspicious of me but every time I look at her, she has this glint in her eyes telling me that she does. It gives me the creeps just thinking about it.

The full moon is out tonight, not a single cloud to block it out. I smile out of the window, tightening the sword holster to my waist. Hopefully, this night will be as nice as the rest of today has been. I don't think anything could ruin it really.

A knock sounds at my door. Curious as to who would need me at this hour, I wander over. I open the door and Arthur is standing there, dressed in his chainmail.

"Arthur?"

"Merlin gave me a heads up that you wanted to train tonight," he says. Flabbergasted still I take a moment to respond.

"Oh, yeah! Good timing too, I was just coming to ask you," I joke, stepping out of my room. "You ready to go I presume?"

He nods so we walk down to the training grounds. I eagerly rant about the past few weeks, complaining about the pile of work I've had shoved on my shoulders before remembering who I'm speaking to. I apologise, realising he has a lot more constantly weighing on him, but he laughs it off.

We get our armour on and head over to the grass field. We start off working on a new sequence, one where we duck under an oncoming blade, using our elbow to throw the attacker off. It is hard to do, especially since I don't have the instinct urging me to move down and forward when a blade is aiming at my head. In fact, all I want to do is move backwards.

Arthur plays the offensive, letting me get a feel for it in combat after practising with air and dummies. We take it slow, using dulls blades for our own safety tonight. Arthur is anything but grumpy, which makes me wonder if Merlin just sees Arthur's usual state as grumpy now.

I get the hang on the movement, barging Arthur with my elbow. He doesn't fall to the ground, but it does knock if a few paces off.

"That was good. And an attacker that doesn't see it coming won't be balanced for it. You have speed, use it," Arthur compliments. "Now that you know how it works, let's try deflecting it."

We move onto footwork that I could use to move out of the way or keep my balance if I do get an elbow to the stomach. Arthur is much larger than me, forcing me to both move further to avoid him and quicker. Again, we start off slowly, building up speed and force as my confidence grows.

"Alright, now I'm going to come at you without holding back. Keep your feet light but sturdy, ready to move in whatever direction you need to." I nod, holding my sword ready to swing at his head.

I swing, knowing that Arthur is going to duck under it but I have no way to tell which way he's going to go, or whether he's going to elbow me from behind or as he's moving. All need me to move a certain way.

As predicted Arthur ducks, I watch his feet, but I take a moment too long to decide and Arthur's elbow rams into my right side. I gasp at the burning pain, my sword dropping from my hold, bouncing from the ground, so my hands are free to grab my side. He's driven the point of his elbow right into the old wound. My legs cave from under me, landing heavily on my knees. My face scrunches, trying to hold in both tears and screams of pain that radiates from the one spot throughout the rest of my torso.

"Elena!"

Hands cover my own on my stomach and around my shoulders as I tuck my chin to my neck.

"I'm okay," I say between my clenched teeth. "It'll pass."

Arthur sits on the ground, pulling me to his chest, resting his chin on my head as I wait out the pain. "I'm so sorry," he says, kissing my temple. One hand remains on my side, the other resting on the right side of my head, rubbing over my hair. If I wasn't in so much pain, my heart would be beating for a whole other reason right now.

Soon, it fades. It's probably only been two minutes, but it feels like half an hour. I'm going to have grass stains on my pants.

"Damn, I shouldn't have forgotten about that," I say eventually, managing a short laugh.

"I shouldn't have forgotten," Arthur protests. "It's my job to make sure the people I train don't get hurt."

"Technically, I didn't get hurt in training," I retort, not wanting him to feel any sort of guilt. "And besides, an enemy isn't going to think 'oh she's hurt there so I won't hit her'," I say in my impression of a thug. Arthur snorts, shaking his head.

"No, but I've probably just added on time until it fully heals, putting you more at risk."

"Merlin said you've been grumpy lately," I say, changing the subject, keeping my tone cool to not offend him. "Any particular reason?" Arthur scrunches his nose, his eyes wandering around the field.

"My father," he answers. "He's been talking about marriage and potential princesses that I could marry."

"You look horrified at the idea," I muse, giggling slightly but my stomach drops, hating the idea of Arthur marrying somebody. "Well who knows, you may meet a wonderful princess that you fall in love with. Your father did."

Arthur chews his cheek, thinking about it all. "I don't think I will," he says quietly, not meeting my gaze.

"And why is that?" I prompt, generally curious.

"Because I already have feelings for someone else," he answers immediately, finally meeting my gaze. "And I don't think they're going to go away any time soon."

Dread is a heavy feeling, like an anchor tied to you inside, dragging them down and out of your body. Is it Gwen? It would make a lot of sense if he lied because she didn't feel the same. You don't just get over somebody. Maybe it was one of the courtiers.

Envy grows inside me, replacing the dread but I quickly push it away. It's not my place and I shouldn't be mad at Arthur or the woman. I need to keep supporting him like I always have and always will.

"Have you told her?" I ask, swallowing my own feelings down.

"I've tried to but sometimes I think she just oblivious to it," he confesses, a small blush rising. "She just doesn't seem to recognise that my gestures are…romantic," he grits out.

"Sounds like Merlin of woman," I chortle. "He's oblivious that this other servant has a crush on him."

"Really?" Arthur laughs. "Which one?"

"Oh, you know, that blonde one with really long hair, petite, and looks like she's bouncing everywhere when she walks."

"Gabriella?" Arthur smirks. "How did you know?"

"Are you kidding, she stares at him during feast and councils. I can feel her stares and they're not even on me. But I do get a good few glares from her every now and then. She seems nice enough, but not Merlin's type. But of course, he's just-" I put on a blank face, waving my hand in front of it without reacting.

We break out into another bucket of laughter, my side twinging but it's worth it.

"She has feelings for someone else anyway," he says, sobering the mood again. I hold my sigh, confirming that it's Gwen.

"Well I'm sorry," I say, looking up at him. "You're a great man."

"You tell me that a lot," he notes, raising one brow.

"That's because you need to hear it," I counter, nudging his shoulder with my own. "It's getting late, we should go back to bed."

"You're right," he agrees, standing up, heaving me up along with him. "Ellie," he says suddenly. "Gwaine called you Ellie."

"Yeah," I laugh quietly. "That's all he ever calls me. I think it's 'cause I pissed him off the first time I introduced myself and it stuck. I used to hate it, but it's grown on me."

We put my armour away, bidding each other quiet goodnights as we part ways. My smile drops as soon as he's out of sight. I hate myself for feeling this way, but I can't help it.

I march back to my corridor, eager to be behind closed doors but not my own. I knock on Castor's door, hoping he's still awake. There's shuffling through the wood that gets closer and the door opens.

Castor is a dishevelled mess. His hair is sticking up in random places, his shirt hanging off one shoulder and his eyes are squinting. He rubs them, yawning dramatically.

"El?" he grumbles hoarsely. "What are you doing up?" I can't bring myself to answer, a sniffle escaping in its place. "Hey, hey," he coos. "Come here." He steps to the side, letting me enter and immediately I'm wrapped in his arms. I grab fistfuls of my shirt, crying freely into it.

My heart hurts so much and there's nothing I can do right now to mend it. My lips curl and I'm glad my face his hidden by his chest and the darkness of the night. I don't try to calm myself down, knowing that I would be able to maintain it for long and the whole process is exhausting already.

Castor doesn't say anything, just swaying me around his in room, waiting for me to speak first.

Finally, I get enough air to speak.

"I love him, Castor," I say, bringing my head back up to look at him. Even in the darkness, I can clearly see the shock on his face.

"You love him?" he reiterates. "Are you talking about Arthur?"

I nod, clenching his shirt tighter. "So much that it hurts. And he has feelings for Gwen still and I don't want to be mad at either of them. I have no right to be, but I can't help feeling this way."

"Oh, my poor sweet thing," he whispers. For once, I feel like the child. The younger sibling. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know how I'm going to look at him anymore. I feel like I'm going to break down every time now because I know."

"Are you sure it's Gwen he has feelings for?"

"Yeah, almost certain."

"But he didn't say her name?"

"No, but he implied it was her. He said she had feelings for someone else and I know Gwen loves Lancelot and Arthur had feelings for her before."

Castor doesn't ask any more questions and my eyes drop from soreness and tire. It's been a long night. I think I just need to sleep everything off.

"I'm sorry for waking you," I say. "I'm going to go back to bed."

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I just need to sleep everything off. I'm probably just overreacting to everything."

"I think this is a very valid reaction," Castor points out. "Maybe you should take a break from work for a few days. Tell Gaius that you're feeling sick."

"I'll think about it," I say, walking back to his door. And I will because I really don't know I'm going to look at the Prince until I get myself in order again. "Thank you. I didn't know who else to go to."

"Anytime."