"Bad News" (Rose)
The new morning passes as many of them do. Though, I will say things are at least twice as entertaining with Gwaine around. I believe he has already given Gaius a small heart attack today, and it is hardly noon.
But I appreciate the distraction and companionship he provides. It helps me to forget just how much of a hole Merlin leaves behind when he goes to work … or anywhere for that matter.
Today is especially amusing because Gwaine has insisted that he help me do the washing. I can only compare this experience to witnessing a goat attempt to flip through the pages of a book with its hooves.
"What are you doing?" my laughter nearly brings me to tears as suds are flying about our heads.
"I'm getting the gook off this shirt!" Gwaine resumes jaggedly sliding the fabric along the bottom of the wash basin.
"Gwaine," I fight containing my laughter to speak, "That's not gook, it's a button."
He immediately protests, "No, it's-" then drops as he pulls it from the soapy water. "Oh … That is one ugly button."
"Don't tell Gaius that. It's his favorite shirt," I laugh once more, taking the garment from him to hang until it dries.
"How unfortunate for him," his expression contorts into one of distaste.
"I hope you do not think me out of place for saying so, but," I introduce my coming statement, "You are exactly the kind of person I pictured my brother would have been, had God granted me a brother."
"Oof," he feigns a hit to the chest. "I've been put on the same plain as a family relation. My hopes of winning you over with the ballad of my bubbles have burst."
"I'm serious," I laugh softly.
"Who says I am not?" he teases. "Nevertheless, I take this declaration to heart, but only in the sense that I am honored by it."
"Good," I smile. "Now, if you would please remove the gook from these rags."
"You've never said the word gook before today, have you?" he laughs.
"Sadly not," I return to my spot on the floor. "But I shall hereafter."
"You shall what?" Merlin's head pops through the front door.
"Merlin!" I rise to my feet out of reflex, still laughing as I brush the hair away from my face with my wrists, since my hands are covered in Gwaine's bubble ballad. "Not that it isn't wonderful to see you, but what are you doing here?"
"I'm actually here with some bad news," he says as he steps into the chambers.
"Oh no," my spirit falls. "What's happened?"
"Arthur received Gwaine's bill from the tavern last night," he scrunches his face to indicate Arthur's response.
"Uh oh," Gwaine sucks air through his teeth. "And?"
"Well … You'll have to see your punishment to believe it," Merlin declares vaguely.
Gwaine peers over at me. "Gook?"
"Gook," I comment knowingly, leaving Merlin looking entirely confused. I'm sure the Prince has some sort of degrading and tedious project in mind, but I don't verbally express this due to Gwaine's pre-existing disdain of nobles. "Good luck, boys." I call after them as they bid me farewell.
The air now fills with loud silence, and I feel more alone than ever.
"She Can" (Merlin)
"Arthur is a thoroughbred little braggart," Gwaine huffs as he shoots daggers with his eyes at the boot sole.
"Why?"I question with a smile.
"For making us do this," he retorts annoyedly.
I tilt my head in thought, continuing to work away at the crusted leather. "I think it's fair."
He ceases all movement. "For the entire army?" he gestures to the gapingly long line of boots in front of us.
"If you admitted your father was a knight, you wouldn't have to," I say pointedly.
"Maybe," Gwaine admits. "But I'm not making the same mistakes he did." He picks up another boot and begins brushing at it. "Anyway, my father always treated his servants well."
I pause. "You didn't know him."
"Well, I like to think that he did," he states. A slightly tense silence settles between us. "What about yours?" he asks as he casts his eyes downward.
"No, he didn't have any servants," I shake my head. "He didn't have- well, anyone."
"When did he die?" he questions further.
"About a year ago," I ponder. "I just wish I had the chance to know him better." My head swirls at the thought. "So much he could have taught me."
"But you did get to meet him," Gwaine attempts to brighten the mood.
"Yeah," I consider.
"If there's one thing that I learned from my father's life is that titles don't mean anything. It's what's inside," he whacks my arm with the scrub brush, "That counts."
"Ow," I lean away from him. "So, I suppose you do agree with Rose after all."
"About what?" he quizzes.
"Ah, that's right. You did say you would be too drunk to recall what she said," I laugh.
"What was it she said?" his tone softens greatly. The inner part of me sets on edge with a twinge of jealousy, though I know I have no real reason to be upset.
"She said that whether a man is noble by birth or not, it is his actions that ought to determine his worth in the eyes of another," I say, my mind leaving traveling to wherever she is.
"She's quite the lady," he muses.
"Yes," I respond rather too quickly. "She is that."
"You like her," he says plainly.
"Wh-" my mouth seems to fail to move. "Where'd you get an idea like that?"
"Come now, Merlin," he says in a dauntingly teasing tone. "We are both gentlemen here."
"Well, one of us, anyways," I joke back.
"You shouldn't discredit yourself in such a way," he remarks, quick as a whip. "Anyhow, it may as well be written across your face."
I feel my eyes widen with horror. "Is it really that obvious?"
"You hear her name, your eyes brighten. When you speak of her, your voice becomes distant, like you're no longer on the same planet. And when you see her- Well, let's just say I'm thoroughly surprised you can stand upright," he shoves me playfully.
"That makes two of us," I puff, feeling a strange sense of relief being able to share this with someone else.
"I'm happy for you, my friend," he pats my back.
"Well, don't be too over the moon just yet. I don't think I see much of anything in our future," I turn my gaze to the ceiling with a sigh.
"And why on earth not?" he presses.
"It's complicated. She's- she's special, that's all. Someone that special shouldn't be wasted on someone like me," I switch my attentions back on the unpolished shoes, as if they are suddenly the most interesting thing in existence.
"She definitely is special," Gwaine nods his head in agreement. "But so are you, mate."
I smile, "Thanks."
"For what it's worth," he adds. "I think you mean a great deal to her."
"That does seem to be the case," I catch myself smiling at the notion. "But all the same, she's so caring with everyone that crosses her path. I can't think myself different than anyone else."
"You may not," Gwaine says, "But I think she can."
My heart nearly leaps out of my chest. "Yes," I say with suppressed delight, almost to myself. "I suppose she can."