At Gaius' insistence, Merlin had taken a second day off of his duties to recover from the trials of the past week, and those days of rest had done wonders for his physical health. By the afternoon of the second day Merlin's fever and cough had disappeared and even the aches and pains he'd suffered at the hands of the durocha had abated significantly; but by then the young man was bored to tears.
Gaius had been insistent that Merlin was not to undertake any task more strenuous than helping him prepare several new batches of medicine, which meant that the youth had spent long hours doing things like crushing rosemary and watching vervain steep in hot water. At one point, he was processing rosemary, stirring the steeping mixture, sorting through a bunch of yarrow to get rid of any bruised leaves and thinking Honestly, I'm beginning to smell like the kitchen garden!
While Merlin was definitely feeling better, emotionally he was still struggling to accept Lancelot's passing. Though it had only been a few days since Lancelot's death, and he knew it would take time to put his grief aside, Merlin felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Every action he undertook reminded him of his friend and it seemed he was never far from tears. Fortunately, Gaius' gentle demeanour and kind gestures had done much to comfort the young warlock.
That evening, after the two men had finished their meal and Merlin had washed the few dishes they had used, the servant poured another cup of tea and placed it in front of the physician together with a fruit scone left over from breakfast.
"What's this?" asked Gaius, looking up from a scroll that he had been intently studying.
"I just wanted to thank you for your patience with me over the past days. I know I've not been the easiest person to get along with and … well … thank you," said Merlin as he placed a small pot of blackberry jam on the table at Gaius' right hand.
"Oh, my boy, you are most welcome. I know it's been hard for you, and I am so sorry for everything you've been through." Reaching out, Gaius broke the scone and handed a portion to Merlin. "Here, I think you deserve a treat as well."
Smiling slightly, Merlin took the scone and quickly devoured it. Brushing his hands together, he said, "I think I'll head to bed. Good night, Gaius."
"Merlin, just to be sure – you are going to return to your duties tomorrow, correct? Now that the fever and the aches are gone, I'm presuming you're feeling well enough to rescue Arthur from the clutches of George?"
Gaius' jest warranted nothing more than a tiny snort from his young ward. "Yes, Gaius; I'll be back to my regular duties tomorrow," said Merlin as he mounted the steps to his room. "I'm sure Arthur will be pleased to rid himself of George's efficient ways," he added as he closed the door behind him.
To the closed door, Gaius whispered, "Sleep well, Merlin."
The next morning, Merlin was up early and after having picked up Arthur's breakfast from the kitchens, he quickly made his way along the corridors to the prince's room. It was still relatively early and Merlin had the halls to himself, for which he was grateful. He wasn't feeling up to speaking to anyone just yet.
Receiving no response to his gentle knocks, Merlin pushed open the door and entered Arthur's chambers. The curtains were closed, shrouding the room in a dim light. From the lump in the middle of the bed and the soft sound of breathing, it was obvious Arthur had not heard his manservant enter.
Merlin carefully placed the tray of foodstuffs on the table that stood in front of the window and looked around. George had obviously taken excellent care of both Arthur and his chambers during Merlin's absence, for not a boot was out place and the desk held only two small piles of parchment.
Merlin turned towards the window and grasped the long, red drapes in his hands. Standing there, running the expensive fabric through his fingers, Merlin immediately saw in his mind's eye the scene from several days earlier: He had been standing to Arthur's right, Lancelot's dragon cloak neatly folded and resting on his flat palms with the knight's sword laid across the crimson fabric.
Merlin could still recall the texture of every strand of the woollen cloak on his fingertips and the drapes that he held at present felt exactly the same. The young warlock bowed his head and stemmed the tears that were threatening to spill down his cheeks. Taking a long, silent breath, Merlin straightened his spine and then flung the drapes aside, letting the bright morning sun fill the room with a golden light.
The sound of rustling fabric and the aroma of warm bread served to rouse Arthur from his sleep. Pulling the covers over his head, the prince clenched his eyes shut and sighed. Another morning of George's unfailing enthusiasm and fawning; Arthur wasn't sure he could face it again.
Then, without warning, the blankets were unceremoniously yanked towards the foot of the bed, letting a draft of cold air swirl over Arthur and cause his flesh to break into goose bumps. With eyes still closed, Arthur slid down the bed, hands flailing in a useless attempt to locate his bedcovers. A familiar voice said, "C'mon Arthur, it's time to get up," and the blonde's eyes whipped open to see Merlin's welcome presence at the side of the bed.
"Merlin," said Arthur, almost joyously, as he sat up and scrubbed his hands through his hair. "You're here! It's good to see you." Realizing that his words may be taken as caring, Arthur quickly backpedalled, "I mean … how are you feeling?" he asked as stood and made his way towards the table and his breakfast.
"I'm fine, Arthur," responded Merlin as he proceeded to straighten the bedclothes and plump up the pillows. "Oh," he added as he stood and turned towards the prince, "thank you so much for the dinner you sent for Gaius and me. It was very kind and we both appreciated it."
Looking up from the piece of warm bread that he was presently drowning in honey, Arthur smiled at his servant and said, "Well, I really did it for Gaius, you know. I figured that if he had to spend the entire day bowing to your every whim, it wouldn't be fair to make him cook as well!"
Merlin smiled slightly at Arthur's jest; despite the other man's words, he knew that Arthur truly cared for his wellbeing.
"Knowing George, things were completely under control during my absence," said Merlin as he opened the wardrobe to select Arthur's clothes for the day. A long groan sounded from the table as Arthur reached for his goblet.
"Under control is one way to put it," the prince said. "Or you could just tell it like it is and say that he completely took over any and all decisions with regard to my wardrobe, my food, the appearance of my chambers and the state of my armour. It was a nightmare!" Arthur sighed slightly and added, "I am glad you're back, Merlin, but truly – are you okay? And I don't mean the cold or whatever it was that laid you low. Have you recovered fully from the durocha's attack? I mean, you obviously only got a glancing blow because you're still around to tell the tale, but …."
"I am fine Arthur, really," asserted Merlin. "I just needed a few days' rest, is all."
Arthur studied his manservant closely. While it was obvious that Merlin had indeed shucked off the remnants of the attack, it was also apparent that the younger man was still not up to snuff. He was pale-looking, with dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes. "And … well, I'm sorry to bring it up but … what about what happened with Lancelot? How are you doing with that?"
On hearing his friend's name, Merlin felt his shoulders start to curl up towards his ears and he felt tears beginning to make themselves known … again. Stiffening his spine, Merlin purposely lowered his shoulders and blinked rapidly several times. "I will be all right, Arthur. It will take some time, I know, and it all feels a bit raw still, but … I will be fine. Really."
Arthur smiled sadly at his manservant; the pain Merlin was carrying was there for anyone to see, but it was also apparent that Merlin really did not want to talk about it right then. "Of course, Merlin; I don't doubt it. But, if you ever feel the need to talk, I'm always available. Lancelot was my friend too."
Giving the prince a rather watery smile, Merlin whispered, "I know. Thank you, Arthur."
The two men were silent a moment before Arthur cleared his throat and said, "Well, I've got a busy day ahead of me. I've got a council meeting shortly and then I have to speak with Leon about the new batch of trainees … and I've got to find some time to spend with my father. It seems likely that I won't require your assistance, Merlin, until early this afternoon, when I need to be on the training grounds."
"All right, Arthur; I'll look for you then. While you finish eating, I'll set your clothing behind the screen."
Once Arthur had dressed and rushed out of the room, shoving one last piece of honey-soaked bread into his mouth, Merlin looked around the room. Really, George had done an exceptional job keeping Arthur's bad habits under control: there were no clothes crumpled in the corner, or thrown over the back of one of the several chairs scatted about the room; his boots were polished and set in pairs beside the wardrobe; even the floor was shiny and clean!
All that was left for Merlin to do was collect the remains of breakfast and return everything to the kitchens. Then he had to complete several small tasks for Gaius before meeting up with Arthur again later in the day.
Merlin had returned the breakfast tray to the kitchens and was heading along the passageway towards the main staircase when he heard a voice calling his name. Turning around, he saw Leon coming towards him, with a smile on his face.
"Merlin!" he said as he stopped in front of the younger man and clasped his arm in greeting. "I heard from Arthur that you were not well these past two days. You look a little pale still, but how are you feeling? Are you fully recovered from the durocha's attack?" From the look on the knight's face, it was apparent that he had been concerned about Merlin's welfare.
Smiling slightly, Merlin said, "I'm much better, Leon; thank you for asking. I think it was a combination of the effects of the magic and Lance …" His voice caught. Quickly clearing his throat, the servant continued, "… and standing out in the cold a couple of days ago."
With a sympathetic grimace, Leon squeezed Merlin's shoulder and said, "I understand, Merlin. Well, I am happy to see you up and about in any case; Arthur has been an absolute bear." Glancing around to ensure that no one could overhear them, Leon added with a grin, "I honestly thought that at one point Arthur would take to hiding in my wardrobe just to get away from George! I've never seen him spend so much time in the lists as I have these past days!"
Merlin snorted slightly at the thought of Arthur cowering in the other man's room and said, "Well, you don't have to worry about that any more, Leon. I'm back to my duties and hopefully my return will mean Arthur can stop haunting your rooms."
"I appreciate that, Merlin; I truly do. I mean, Arthur is good fun but at some point I really do need to get some sleep. Well, I've got to get to the armoury and take a look at the new trainees that arrived yesterday. With luck, they won't all be whiners … but I hold no hope. I'll see you later, Merlin. Just remember, take care of yourself and don't overdo it on your first day back to work."
"Thanks Leon, and I'll take care," said Merlin as he watched the blond stride confidently along the hallway towards the castle armoury. With one last small gesture towards the young servant, Leon disappeared around a corner.
Gathering his thoughts back from where they had strayed, Merlin pulled himself together and hurried along the hall, down the wide steps that led to the courtyard and made his way across the paving stones. He had several stops to make for Gaius, one of which was at the glassmaker's booth to pick up some vials the physician had commissioned. Knowing his tendency to be slightly clumsy on occasion, and not wanting to risk carrying around the delicate glass bottles longer than necessary, Merlin decided that he'd leave that errand for last and instead turned towards the kitchen gardens to gather up the mint and feverfew that the physician had requested.
Merlin stepped through the small door that led into the kitchen gardens and pulled it firmly shut behind him. After taking a few steps along the path, the young man stopped and looked around. All he could see was the lush green of growing plants and he was happy to note that he was the only person wandering the garden paths.
Merlin sighed deeply and then, raising his face towards the sun he took in another deep breath. For the first time in days, a real smile appeared on the man's face. Here was the smell of green, growing things; here was the smell of life. Opening his eyes, he let his gaze flit over the feathery tops of carrots, by-pass the tall plants laden with beans, and bounce off the stiff green tops of the leeks, simply enjoying the view. He let his sight rest momentarily on the fruit trees in the far corner of the garden – there were apple, plum and his favourite, the wild cherry trees.
The warlock was sorely tempted to steal a few cherries for himself, but they were not quite ripe and he could still recall the one time he'd gorged himself on unripe cherries. He'd been ill for days and his mother had been quite upset with him. Mind you, he'd only been eight years old at the time, but it was a lesson well learned.
Instead, Merlin let the small bag he was carrying slip from his shoulder as he made his way towards the herb section of the garden. It was his favourite place in the entire garden. Long raised beds held mint, sage, chives, thyme and rosemary plants amongst others. To one side was another section that held lavender and vervain, while a smaller bed located in the far corner held the plants that were so useful in Gaius' medicines.
Merlin carefully retrieved several handfuls of both the mint and feverfew that Gaius needed and after carefully placing them in his satchel, he swung the bag over his shoulder and headed back towards the door set in the tall stone wall, but not before snatching a few early strawberries off one of the plants.
Though warm from the sun, the berries were tart on the tongue and Merlin's nose wrinkled as he chewed and swallowed the few berries he'd stolen. Popping the last berry into his mouth, he was struck with a memory.
Not two weeks earlier, he'd been in the garden collecting some herbs for Gaius, and Lancelot had followed along to keep him company. The two men had enjoyed a few moments of relaxation; Merlin slowing gathering up various plants and leaves and Lancelot simply wandering along the paths, delighting in a few moments of quiet. When Lancelot had made his way back to Merlin, he opened his hand to show four tiny strawberries.
"They just fell into my hand," joked the knight as he popped one into his mouth.
"Well, it would be a shame to let them go to waste," responded Merlin as he took two and quickly bit down. Then he spluttered at the sharp taste that filled his mouth. "Lancelot," he choked out, "they're not even ripe yet!"
Lancelot grinned at his companion. "Well … they're almost ripe!" he said as he cheerfully ate the remaining berry.
Merlin smiled sadly at the memory and then a wave of melancholy overtook him. A tear slipped down his cheek as he realized that never again would he enjoy something as simple as eating strawberries with his friend.
Hitching his bag higher on his shoulder, Merlin determinedly pushed away his dark thoughts and continued on with his errands. He made a few medical deliveries and then stopped at the blacksmith's forge to commission a new pair of scissors for Gaius – they were his prized possession, but they had been used and sharpened so often that they no longer held a keen edge.
His last stop was the glassmaker's. Stepping into the small building, Merlin was struck anew at the glassmaker's talents; not only did he make the small vials that Gaius used for his medicines, Alan was also an artist and had, on occasion, created some beautiful glasses and vases for use up at the castle. Laid out on a small table was a collection of about twenty vials of various sizes; these were presumably the goods destined for the physician's use.
"Good morning, Merlin," called Alan from his work space, which was visible at the back of the hut. "You've come for Gaius' order, I presume? Just give me a moment and I'll help you wrap everything up."
"Thanks, Alan. I appreciate the help," answered Merlin as he began pulling some soft cloths out of his satchel and laying them on the table. Alan shortly appeared at his side and the two men quickly had all the vials safely wrapped and stowed in Merlin's satchel, nestled up against the herbs.
Once the last wrapped package had been gently placed in the bag, Merlin picked it up and, holding it close to his chest, looked up at Alan and said, "Thanks. Gaius will be very glad to receive these."
"My pleasure," responded Alan. "Be careful on your way back to the castle," he added. Merlin smiled slightly and as he turned to leave, Alan said, "Merlin … is everything okay? You're not getting sick are you?"
"No, no, I'm fine Alan," said the warlock as he looked town at the table top.
"It's just … well, you seem rather pale and your eyes are bloodshot … and..." Realizing what he had said, and knowing the close friendship that existed between Lancelot and Merlin, Alan quickly bit off the rest of his sentence. Looking closely at the young man standing in front of him, Alan saw that what he had taken as an indication of illness was rather more than that. The pale look and red eyes meant so much more. "I'm sorry, Merlin," said the glassmaker in a low tone as he saw tears in other man's eyes, "I didn't mean to upset you."
Merlin sniffed slightly and said, "It's okay. I'll be okay." But his rapid breathing told a different tale.
Alan rounded the table and, grasping Merlin's elbow, said, "Merlin, you know that there is no shame in mourning the loss of a friend, right? I know how close you and Lancelot were. He was a good man and will be sorely missed."
"Yes, he will. Thank you, Alan," whispered Merlin as he once again gathered his bag close and headed out the door.
Watching Merlin make his way slowly along the path towards the castle gates, Alan could only hope there were some at the castle who would recognize that Merlin was in pain and would be able to help him through these difficult days.
Later that same day, Merlin was standing at the edge of the training grounds watching Arthur and Leon putting the new trainees through their paces. While the small group of teenagers were not as hopeless as Leon had feared, they were certainly a long way from being competent. Merlin really should have been sharpening the few swords that were hanging in the rack, but watching the group of young men flailing around with blunted swords was much more entertaining than work.
Watching the group and listening to Leon and Arthur blister the air with their harsh, but well-deserved, comments Merlin did not hear Percival and Gwaine come up behind him.
"Merlin," said Gwaine as he clapped the other man on his shoulder, "it's good to see you! How are you?"
Jumping from fright, Merlin turned to the two knights and laying his hand over his racing heart, said, "Gwaine, don't do that! You scared me nearly half to death!"
"Sorry, Merlin," said Gwaine with a grin, "I thought you heard us." The dark-haired knight was just about to say something else when Arthur's bellow from the grassy sward had him rushing towards two youths who had collapsed on the ground in a tangle of limbs.
"No, don't move!" yelled Gwaine as he approached the young men. "What did you do?"
Merlin watched the goings-on in front of him with a distant look, not really paying attention to what was happening on the grass. He was lost in his thoughts again. Percival, in the meantime, stood quietly at the warlock's side, dividing his gaze between the training grounds and Merlin. The servant sensed the large man standing at his side, but was grateful for his silence. Then, in a low voice, Percival said, "I miss him too."
Shocked out of his contemplations, Merlin turned to Percival and spluttered, "I … what … what was that?"
"I miss him, too," repeated Percival. "Lancelot. He was there for me in my darkest hours and through his friendship and a great deal of nagging, he brought me out of myself and encouraged me to live again. You know that my family was slaughtered by Cenred's men. I was lost and despairing when he found me. But his friendship – well, everyone's friendship – helped me heal and carry on."
Merlin stared at the big man, amazed. He was sure he'd never heard Percival speak so many words at one time.
"I know how close you and he were," Percival continued. "And believe me when I say I understand how hard things are for you right now. But don't forget, you've got plenty of friends who are worried about you and want to help. All you have to do is ask."
Merlin swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat at Percival's speech. He was touched by the kindness in the other man's voice and words, and with his voice cracking from emotion, he said, "I know … it's just that … well … thank you, Percival. I appreciate your words so very much."
With a small smile, Percival gently nudged Merlin's shoulder and said, "Why don't you come to my chambers after tonight's meal? We'll have a drink and toast Lancelot's memory."
"I'd like that very much," said Merlin.
"I'll see you later then. Meanwhile, I'd better get in there and give Leon a hand with those striplings. I think he's got his work cut out for him!" Percival then strode onto the training grounds, turning to give Merlin a smile before Leon noticed him and put him to work.
Merlin sighed to himself, and then reached out to grab one of the dulled swords. He had work to do, and as Gaius had once told him: hard work is a balm for the soul. Merlin could only hope those words would prove to be true.