Chapter 34
I have definitely gained some weight, a prospect I am not mad about as I know full well where it came from, and I enjoyed every second of it. Once the food had become available again, I stuffed my face with anything that looked semi-pleasant.
Which leads to today where I turned my nose up at breakfast, the thought of eating anymore is disgusting. I tie my belt-like corset, the knots not falling in line with the dent marks after a year of use, a way I measured my weight without a scale. I had been interested to see if the diet and activity of my daily life here would affect it but up until now, I had barely fluctuated.
A little fullness doesn't hurt anyone.
Tonight, Merlin and I are going to the tavern. I had to plead with him to come with me, especially after Gaius had divulged that he gets drunk after a lick of alcohol, a sight I am dying to see.
I spend the morning down in the town, chatting for Gorham who I haven't seen in awhile after everything going on. We sit over some tea, gossiping about the city's rumours.
"And I hear that Thomas boy has declared his love for Penelope," she divulges, taking a long sip of her tea. I gasp and my jaw drops.
"But Thomas is about to get married to Daphne," I counter. I had never met these people, but I sure do feel like I know every part of their lives'. Gorham has been in Camelot almost all her life and she has come to know many of the people and she and I would spend hours chatting about the drama.
"I know," she remarks, nodding with a tilted smile. "Young love is always painful," she muses, leaning back into her chair. I take a sip of my own tea, a hot herbal flavour that I can't identify but my throat loves it.
"Always?" I query, eager to hear why she believes this to be so. I had yet to experience the pain of heartbreak and it isn't something I look forward to. Not that I often think about it, but in reality, you either get married or break up here.
"Oh yes," she effuses, waving her hand. "Young people like yourself will always experience pain before you reach your happy-ever-after. And that's if you ever get it, I certainly didn't."
I think back to Leon, analysing our relationship. He had said that we are officially courting, not that I really understand the process of it but I suppose it's the same as dating. We've had our up and downs but we both communicated well and enjoyed the company of one another. Did he think of marrying me? I certainly had imagined the idea, like any other girl. But on the other hand, we haven't even said the three terrifying words. Do men even think about things like this? Had he lain in bed, fantasising like I have?
I am surprised that I am even an option for him since I bring no logical gain for him. No land, dowry, money. Am I destined to be rejected? Gorham is a wise woman and I have always taken her advice before, yet to prove me wrong.
Before I let her words truly sink into me, I change the topic, asking of her sun which she begins to natter on about, sharing his tales of travel. But the damage is done and a sense of unease builds itself in my head, the first true doubt about our future. I am a low-born, a serving girl and he is a nobleman, a knight of Camelot and one of the finest there is. Where do fit in? People might think less of him because of me, damaging his reputation he's worked so long for.
After letting Gorham rant on her as long as she pleases, I big her farewell and thank her for the tea. I exit her home back onto the busy pathway of the main streets, stalls erected and plenty of goods to buy. I browse along them, my gaze drifting over everything I see. The goods vary from food, clothing, shoes, weapons, and jewellery. One vendor has a small stall, a few glass boxes on the surface in front of him. I glance down, seeing the silver jewellery inside. I go to move onwards but one piece catches my attention. I push through the crowd, eyes locked on the piece. I reach the stall, getting a closer look at the necklace. It is a single silver chain that leads to a dark green emerald jewel, encased by a teardrop styled piece. My fingers delicately brush against the glass as I admire it. I'd never been one to fancy jewels but I am entranced by its elegance.
"See something you like?" the vendor asks. I break eye contact with the necklace, smiling at the man. He can't be older than thirty, a handsome man with black straight hair. I blush as though caught in an intimate moment.
"Y-yes. The emerald one," I stutter out, glancing back down. The man nods knowingly.
"It's my favourite too. Made it myself about two years ago and couldn't bear to part with it," he laughs, scratching his neck. "But I thought it'd be better with someone who would wear it and not store it in a satchel for the rest of their life," he admits.
"I can see why you'd hate to part with it," I muse. I exhale, asking the dreaded question. "Look, I probably can't afford it anyway, but how much is it?"
"Thirty gold," he states. "It's a steep price but it is worth it for this beauty."
I swallow sadly, knowing it is way out of my range and that I would likely never see it again.
"El!" somebody calls. I turn around, seeing Castor in his full knight wear walking forwards.
"Afternoon Castor. What are you doing down here?" I greet. He looks as chirpy as normal, a boyish smile planted on his face.
"Running away from training. Arthur was trying to kill us today, Leon and Torj are still stuck up there," he says, flexing his back as though stretching out. "What are you looking at?" he peers over the stall, down at the jewellery. "Necklaces? Didn't think you were into those things," he muses. I shake my head.
"No, the emerald one just caught my eye," I mention, touching the glass again. "It's way too much for me though," I lament, tearing my gaze away. Castor's nose shrivels up at it.
"It is pretty but you don't need it," he compliments.
"Flattery will get you nowhere," I chide, walking away from the stall. My mark burns, soft and warm making me smile internally at the strengthening bond. Castor follows me like a puppy. "And running away from training won't get you in their good books either."
"They're training with blindfolds, so I highly doubt they even saw me leave," he jokes shaking his head. "I know I do some stupid things but fighting with a sharp sword blind ain't one of them."
"First of all," I laugh. "You're picking up my speaking habits. And second- blindfolds? Are you serious?"
He nods ferociously. "I don't understand how they do it"
"I want to watch," I declare, changing my direction of path to the training grounds. Castor groans, mumbling something about getting in trouble but I don't pay him any mind.
We pass by Gwen's house, my mood dampening for the third time today as I remember that only a few weeks ago her father was executed under Uther's command, sentenced with treason. Gwen has been devastated ever since but she continues to work, holding her hate against Uther at bay for the sake of her life.
We venture to my usual spot at the training grounds, a seat overlooking the grassy area. Merlin is there, watching Arthur as he battles a knight. Sure enough, he is blindfolded but the other knight isn't. Arthur moves skilfully and instinctually. A born fighter, a fact nobody can argue with. He wins by knocking his opponent's sword away from his hands.
Leon is standing in the small crowd of knights, talking with Torj and another man but steps forward to challenge Arthur. Both men put on their blindfolds, readying themselves. I watch anxiously for the first few seconds but quickly realise that both men are skilled enough to handle the challenge.
"Castor." I call.
"Hmm."
"Would you ever marry someone that isn't a noblewoman?" I press him, somehow managing to keep my tone light and airy. He thinks for a moment.
"Me? I would if I met the right one. Most men stick to nobility, including Torj and most of the knights because of the stigma and the gains. You know the usual money and land stuff," he offers. "It's uncommon but not unseen for a knight to marry a woman of lesser standing but it can hurt his image depending on the woman."
I don't answer for a while, just taking in his words. I was right in my assumption before, that I wouldn't be the best woman for him. I watch him fight, almost on equal terms with the Prince. A sad smile graces my lips. I have been so happy, and all that just turned upside in a day. Arthur wins, removing his blindfold and Leon congratulates him on his victory. Merlin trots forward, taking the Prince's sword as he takes a break.
"I'll see you later," I state, turning away.
The rest of the day is spent sulking, my mood not recovering from this morning's continuous depressing moments. But tonight I will be going to the tavern to drink my sorrows away. I call out 'enter' as somebody knocks at my door. Merlin opens the door, dressed no differently than usual.
"Are you ready?" he asks. I am also not dressed that differently from my usual attire; after all, it is only the tavern. I nod, grinning at him.
"Let's go," I exclaim. Merlin laughs at my enthusiasm, letting me pull him along by the sleeve.
The tavern is just as it usually is on a Friday night, alive and musical. I had come before through the weekdays and it isn't the same, a more sullen and relaxed atmosphere. Still clinging to Merlin's jacket I pull him over to the barkeeper.
"A gallon of mead," I exclaim, shoving the money to the man. I'm determined to have a goodnight, a have the worries of today shoved from my head forcibly by alcohol. The barman huffs, taking the money and getting my order.
"A gallon?" Merlin asks uncertainly. "I don't think we need that much."
"You may not but after the day I've had, I certainly do," I retort, snorting unattractively. We wait for the jug. My eyes slightly widen at the size, realising it's going to be too heavy to carry. I glance at Merlin's arms, which are almost as thin as mine. However, whatever is there must be lean muscle from working for Arthur as he picks up the jug, placing it on an empty table nearby. I don't miss the small groan he lets out, making me giggle. I grab two tankards, slamming it down on the table.
"Let's do this."
Gaius' words could never have been truer; Merlin was absolutely drunk after two whole drinks. In comparison, Leon would be slightly affected after five and Torj who is a notorious drinker wouldn't start showing the signs until he had his tenth of the night. We are much over our sobriety limit, a fact that the people of the tavern have taken advantage of. Merlin had been drunkenly singing, more so screaming than anything else and I had joined in to try and keep him in tune which was a hilarious but fruitless effort. The people of the tavern slammed their drinks against the tables chanting at us to sing. Merlin, with no regard for self-containment, dragged us both onto our table, stomping our feet, singing loud and merrily.
"In the boozer
you're a loser
if the dice you're shaking.
You'll get hurt
and lose your shirt,
sit there cold and quaking.
Lady Luck, your gifts are bad,
you trick us, then you make us mad,
make us gamble, make us fight,
and sit out in the cold all night.
'Brrr!' The naked loser moans,
when he's cold and left alone,
shakes and shivers as he groans:
'I wish I could be
asleep under a tree
With a hot sunshine warming my bones.'
But now let's roll the dice again
and win some drinking money!
Who thinks about November's rain
while it's still warm and sunny?"
It is a song I had heard many times here, the words ingrained in my mind so we sang them as loud as our voices would allow. The tavern cheered on, joining into our chant. Our arms encircled, dancing around on the tabletop. At the end, we jump down, sweat gathering at my neck and back. It is the night I need, our gallon of mead now empty.
Merlin walks me home, although I think I'm the one babysitting him. He stumbles over the slightest bump in the road. The cold air of the night comes like an unwelcome guest and while it does nothing to sober me or the warlock it drags down the mood from the warm and bright tavern environment.
We reach my door, Merlin entering in with me, plunking down on my desk's chair. I kick off my shoes, swan diving onto my bed. Thoughts I don't want coming back to me, all the night's effort wasted in the moments just before sleep.
"Merlin," I sniffle. "I do-don't think I should be with L-Leon." The warlock looks at me, completely perplexed at my sudden confession, one he is not prepared to deal with sober, let alone drunk.
"Why would… you say… that?" he slurs.
"Because I'm not n-noble," I murmur, my own words slurring together slightly. "I would be b…bad for his reputation, and he's worked so h-hard to be where he is. I can't take that aw…away," I hiccup, tears already wetting my cheeks in my short declaration. Merlin stumbles from the chair, moving to sit beside me on the bed.
"Leon," he says, taking a moment to think. "Leon is a good… man, and you are a good woman." His words come out slightly jumbled, his tone dropping and raising in odd places. "If he cared about that he wouldn't be…courting you."
"But I care about it," I cry, wiping my eyes with my shoulder. "I don't want him to be loo-looked down on. He's one of the… best men I've ever know-n."
Merlin's only answer for me is snoring worse than Arthur's. He's sprawled out on my bed horizontally, taking up most of it. I use my foot to shake him awake but he doesn't budge. It's not physically possible to carry him all the way back to his chambers but I cannot share a bed with him. I slide off my bed, pulling Merlin's shoes off and placing them at the foot of my bed. My eyes are still red and sore but my cries dwindle down into occasional sniffles. I pull the cover on my bed down to wrap him up burrito style, an image I giggle at.
Leaving my shoes I tiptoe to Leon's chambers, the only place I can think of unless I want to take Merlin's bed. I open his door quietly, expecting him to be asleep but instead he's leaning up against the wall, looking out through the window. It isn't ridiculously late but most of the castle is asleep by now. He hears me entering, head-turning.
"There's a Merlin in my bed," I state, stumbling over to him. He frowns in confusion but draws me into his arms, stroking the back of my head.
"Why is there a Merlin in your bed?" he asks as though I am a child. I shrug, digging my nose into his chest. "Do you want me to get him out?" he asks, a typical man trying to come up with a solution. One I appreciate though but I shake my head.
"No, he's out cold," I mumble through his shirt. "I just want to go to sleep."
"Okay," he agrees softly. "You were at the tavern weren't you?"
I nod. "Merlin is fun when he's drunk."
"Maybe you invite me next time?" he offers but he doesn't sound offended, more so sounding like he enjoyed the idea of seeing a drunken Merlin.
"Yeah. I know you are leaving early tomorrow, that's why I didn't bother you tonight." I take in a deep breath of the familiar scent, closing my eyes to give into their heaviness.
"I don't have to drink. I just want to look out for you. There are some dirty men in those places," he grunts. "Come on, let's get you to bed." He picks me up over his shoulder, placing me back down on his bed. I shuffle, kicking the blanket from underneath me to pull over my shoulders. Leon lies down next to me, saying something but I don't hear it.