"I was thinking of sending Amber to Camelot." Muriel said as she wiped down the counter. "There's no future here, running a tavern."
Arthur looked up from the tankard he'd been staring into, thinking about all the revelations in his life over the span of two days. "Camelot?"
"I spoke to Gwen. She says that if I am sure, she's sure she can find Amber a position in the castle."
"She's a little young," said Arthur.
"Well, then, perhaps you could keep an eye on her." No longer wiping the counters, Muriel leaned against a wall, her arms crossed as she looked at him. "For a man who was so eager to find out who he was, you're running away from it pretty fast."
"You're sending Amber away just to make me go to Camelot?"
Muriel snorted. "I don't care that much for you, Kay. But I care about Amber and working in the castle will give her more opportunities than staying here. Since King Arthur took the throne, it's not just nobles who get to be promoted in the castle."
Arthur huffed, then took a long drink from the tankard. "You think I should go to Camelot."
"I don't know why you're not. You're finally close to discovering who you are and suddenly you're running scared."
"Can you keep a secret?" Arthur asked after a moment. Perhaps Muriel would understand.
"I kept your memory loss a secret, didn't I?" Muriel tossed the rag into a bucket, then crossed her arms again. "What is it?"
"I'm King Arthur of Camelot."
"And I'm Queen Guinevere," said Muriel with a shake of her head. "Have you drank too much mead?"
Arthur darted a look round the tavern just to make sure they were alone. "I really am the King of Camelot and Gwen is the Queen. Gwen – Guinevere?"
The stunned look on Muriel's face was almost amusing, but the weight of being king to a land he barely knew led Arthur to down the rest of his drink. He liked Gwen a lot. The moment he first laid eyes on her in the smithy, he'd been smitten. And when she'd talked with him that night, revealing that they were married, he'd been happy. He would get to know her again and she would fill in the blanks of his memory, and they would continue to live as a family.
Only, as it turned out, things were a lot more complicated than that.
"If you truly are the King of Camelot, then you need to return. Camelot needs you."
Shoving the empty tankard towards Muriel, Arthur let his frustration get the better of him. "What do you think will happen? That I'll waltz back into Camelot and somehow solve all her problems? No one seems to understand that I don't know how to be king."
"Gwen and Ambrose – surely they will help you."
They would, Arthur knew. But they would also expect things of him, things he didn't know if he could deliver. The potential that he would be, at best, a disappointment or worse, detrimental to a kingdom Gwen loved fiercely, made him feel slightly sick.
He felt Muriel's hand on his. "In all the time I've known you, you've never been a coward and you've always done the right thing."
He stood, pulling his hand away. Already the weight was wearing him down. "Those were the easy things, Muriel. Come, I'll help you close up."
As the cold night air swirled around him, Arthur leaned against the rough stone of the tavern's wall. Muriel hadn't said anything else as they closed up the tavern. When she went to her room, Arthur wandered outside – for fresh air and with the foolish hope that Gwen would be there, waiting, despite how their talk had ended earlier.
She wasn't there, probably back in her room getting ready to leave Helb.
With a sigh, Arthur settled himself on the bench. It would be so easy to stay here. There were many things he could do in the village. And he liked the small village defence group he was putting together. He closed his eyes and thought of Gwen. It was so easy to picture her face.
He might not want to be king, but he suspected losing Gwen would be something he'd regret forever.
Slowly, Gwen placed her clothes into her bag. She'd been in Helb for almost three days and with a three day journey back to Camelot, they couldn't afford to stay on much longer. Soon, the council would start to ask difficult questions and it wasn't fair for Leon to have to bear the brunt of that, even with Merlin magically checking in with them periodically. Merlin hadn't said anything in response to her flat retelling of her conversation with Arthur aside from hugging her tightly. The next day, she pleaded sickness and stayed in the room, occasionally looking out of the window, hoping to catch sight of Arthur. But he too stayed away.
"All packed?" Merlin stepped into the room, his brow furrowed.
"Yes. Have you settled up with Muriel? Is Amber all ready?"
"Yes to both. Muriel packed us some supplies for our journey. Are you sure we should be travelling with Amber?"
Turning to fuss with her bag, Gwen nodded. "Muriel wants Amber to have a better life in Camelot. I know how that feels. It's why my father got me that job in the castle."
"Are you ready to leave?" Merlin reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want to say goodbye -"
"Gwen, Merlin." Arthur stood at the door, his presence immediately making the room feel even smaller.
Her heart sank. She didn't want to say goodbye. She wanted to slip off quietly and forget she ever came to Helb, forget about all the foolish hopes she'd secretly carried. Still, years of being queen meant she was able to smile and greet him warmly.
Then she noticed he had a pack with him.
"You're coming?"
Shrugging, Arthur looked away. "Something like that. I know Merlin's a powerful warlock and all but really, he looks like he'd faint at the first sight of blood. I'll escort you and Amber at least to the border."
"I heard that!" Merlin spun around to face Arthur. "You have no idea what I can do to you."
Arthur straightened at Merlin's words, his hand immediately going for Excalibur. "I'm not afraid of your magic," he said.
Gwen's eyes flew to Merlin whose good humour had faded quickly. "You should be," Merlin said, a hardness in his tone "Your sword is no match -"
"You're free to ride with us," interrupted Gwen quickly. "I'm sure Amber will be pleased."
Distracted, Arthur stopped glaring at Merlin and turned his attention back to Gwen. "She's nervous and very excited. Thank you for doing this for her."
"It's nothing much," said Gwen, trying to sound calm in face of confirmation that it was Amber he was riding to Camelot for. What had she sunk to, being jealous of a young girl?
He stepped closer. "It's not nothing. I heard you tell Muriel you'd personally look after her."
She could feel the heat from his body, smell his familiar scent, the one that had finally faded from her sheets weeks ago. His fingers brushed gently across her cheek and she looked into his eyes. "She's young and will be without her family. It is the least I can do."
His fingers stilled and he cupped her cheek. Giving in, Gwen allowed herself to lean into his touch. "I can see why I love you," he murmured as his eyes darkened. She wondered if Arthur could hear her heart thumping.
Something fell over, crashing onto the wooden floorboards.
Merlin grinned sheepishly.
"We'll set off in an hour," said Arthur briskly, moving away from Gwen. "I'll see you at the stables."
At their murmured agreement, he left the room.
"No memories and he's still acts like he's king," grumbled Merlin, picking up the book he'd dropped.
She stilled at Merlin's words. "That's the problem isn't it? The fact that he can't remember anything. That's why he won't return to Camelot."
The look Merlin gave her articulated the obviousness of her statement.
"We just need to get his memory back. Surely -"
Merlin took a step back, arms raised. "You want me to use magic on Arthur?"
"I - " she faltered. As much as she trusted Merlin, she still found it difficult to trust magic. "I don't know. Would it be dangerous?"
"I've only ever done temporary spells on him. Anything more permanent -" he trailed off, letting her fill in the blanks herself. "But perhaps, he just needs something jolt his memory. Something familiar. And maybe we'll discover why he's back."
"You still don't trust him."
"I don't trust his return."
AN: The chapter is a little short. Sorry.