A/N: Thanks again to all who have reviewed and/or put this story on alert. And without further delay – more angst!
Chapter 4
Merlin sat at the table with his mother, eating a rather watery vegetable soup and complaining.
"Eight days! I've been here eight whole days without a single word from Arthur. What could be taking him so long?"
"Merlin," said Hunith calmly, "Eight days isn't really that long."
"What, one day to talk to Gaius," Merlin went on, "you know, get the whole speech about how" here Merlin dropped into a fair imitation of Gaius' voice, "magic is like a sword, neither good nor evil, it's how one wields it that determines how it is used."
"Merlin!" protested Hunith.
Merlin continued on as if he hadn't heard. "Another day to think about all the help I've given him, all the times I saved his life, and maybe another day to realize how much he misses me because he can't get dressed or wash his royal socks without me. Write a quick note – Come Home Merlin – who needs eight days for that?"
"Eat your soup," said Hunith with gentle exasperation. "Maybe it's not as easy for Prince Arthur as you think. He does have to worry about breaking his father's laws, you know. He might decide it's safer for you to stay here."
"I know," said Merlin somberly, lifting another spoonful of soup from his bowl, "but even that decision shouldn't take eight days! This waiting is killing me!" He ate in silence for a while. He had to admit, he'd missed his mother's soup while he was in Camelot. It was delicious.
"Maybe," said Hunith, "he just wanted to make sure you got a nice long vacation with your old mum before calling you back to work." They grinned at each other, the tension broken. Merlin collected the dishes and began washing them. Then he went outside to see if any of the villagers needed any odd jobs done.
Merlin had discovered that, unlike when he was a boy, now he seemed to fit in here in Ealdor. He didn't know if it was because he had come back with Arthur, Morgana, and Gwen to fight Kanan and his men, or if it was simply because he was an adult now, but people seemed to respect him and accept him without question as part of the community. Merlin still kept his magic secret. But he spent his days helping people, doing whatever needed to be done (with occasional judicious use of his gifts). Yesterday he had helped Old George fix a leaky roof. The day before that he had worked in the fields. Today Edwina, a widow with four children, was sitting in the sun outside her front door with a large basket of mending, so Merlin pulled up a chair and began to help her.
"Merlin! What are you doing?" Edwina cried in surprise as he took a shirt from her basket.
"Mending this shirt," replied Merlin easily. "Unless you'd rather I darn those socks over there."
"You darn socks?" Edwina was holding her mending close against her chest in shock.
"Darn socks, fix leather boots, sew seams, mend rips, fix chain mail, attach buttons…Prince Arthur is always needing something repaired, and he usually needs it done ten minutes ago!" Merlin laughed as he selected a needle from her pincushion and threaded it. "Trust me, Edwina, I know what I'm doing." After a few stitches, he gave her a conspiratorial grin and said, "Do you want to know the best thing about doing the royal mending? You can do it with your friends, and there's always great gossip to share!" At her gasp, he gave her a wink, and began regaling her with a few outrageous stories about court life. Within a short while, there was a whole group of women around and in front of Edwina's door, each with her own basket of mending, laughing and talking as if they were at a party. Hunith was there, too, sewing quietly, watching her son enjoying himself. She was so proud of the man he'd become.
The children knew it first, running up the road to tell the adults. "A rider's coming, a fancy rider!" Merlin jumped up from his chair, vaulted over the mending baskets, and raced down the dirt road to meet the rider. Surely this must be it!
The horse and rider came into view, both decked out regally in Pendragon colors. Merlin's heart was pounding. Would it be a formal summons, then, with all kinds of fancy words and seals? Or would Arthur just have written him a regular friendly letter, saying he could come home now, that everything was fine? He was beside himself with anticipation.
The rider stopped in front of Merlin. "I have a message for Merlin of Ealdor," he said stiffly.
"I am Merlin," he replied, reaching out his hand. Good, his voice hadn't shaken. Oh, but his hand was trembling. Damn! Stay calm, breathe… The messenger handed over a folded piece of parchment, affixed with Arthur's personal seal. Merlin took a deep breath, broke the seal, opened the parchment, and eagerly looked at the message inside. He read it again. He stared at it, uncomprehendingly. It was only four words: Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur.
Merlin couldn't breathe. He kept staring at those four words, willing them to change, to mean something else. Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur
"Is there a reply?" the messenger asked.
Startled, Merlin looked up. "What?" Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur
"Is there a reply?" the messenger repeated. Merlin shook his head. The messenger wheeled his horse around and rode away.
Merlin walked slowly back to his mother's house, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur Of course he had known it was possible that Arthur would tell him not to come back, Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur but he'd never really believed it would happen that way. Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur He belonged in Camelot. Arthur needed him. Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur And now, just like that, he could never return, and Arthur had given no explanation whatsoever for his decision. Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur
Merlin found himself on his bed, still holding the message, the letters bleeding and the words running together as raindrops fell on them. No, not rain, tears. He was crying. And suddenly his mother was there, holding him the way she had when he was little, and Merlin was sobbing as if his heart would break, because maybe it had, and his whole world had fallen apart, and he had failed at his destiny, and the only reality he had left was Merlin, I'm sorry. Arthur.
xxxxx
concrit welcome