Chapter 11 [Grand Hall]

For the previous three turns of the hourglass, Mithian had overseen the preparations. She'd rolled up her gown's sleeves and strung up some garlands herself. She'd also directed Merlin, Britomart and Gawain (who was sent in that direction by Gwen for some mysterious reason) in their efforts in that regard. She made sure that every speck of dirt and dust was off the floor. Her eyes dealt with the wooden pieces' and floor's shine. Her nose took a deep whiff of Cleanliness' pleasant scent. Pride for her friends and love puffed up in her chest.

"I'd say we outdid ourselves, Milady," Britomart declared. "We're a great team."

"Glad to hear you're giving someone else credit for a change," Gawain sassed.

"Even you, you Oaf," the maid added. "Do you see now? You can do things other than with a weapon or a pint in your hand."

Gawain sighed. He ground his teeth. "Yak, yak, yak….Hey, Merlin, think she's trying to tell me something?"

Merlin coughed. He glanced over at Mithian. I don't know. Is Britomart saying something?

His Princess' eyes sparkled back at her. Might be. She smiled. Her heart warmed. She felt so light that she might float off of the ground. "Britomart is complimenting you. Perhaps you might take it as much."

"Indeed, Princess Mithian," Britomart concurred.

"Finally!" Gawain exclaimed.

"That is if you act your age. You do see what happens when you work and act like an adult? You are duly complimented, Sir Knight," Britomart jabbed. Even if her eyes twinkled and her heart skipped a beat, she wasn't about to resist shoveling out a dose of tough love (or getting the last word in for that matter).

Gawain rubbed his forehead. "I help and get the lecture anyway? Seriously?" He rubbed his forehead to deal with the discomfort starting there. "Maybe a break might be in order?"

"Perhaps." Mithian conceded a shrug. "Still, Sir Gawain, a well-balanced life is a good life. There is more to it than just battle, wenching and tavern trips. You are a loyal friend both to Merlin and me. I only speak this to your betterment. I care."

Gawain exhaled with effort. "Yeah well, life isn't worth living without a bit of enjoyment every now and again. Eh? Hey, Merlin, maybe you might want to jump in, Mate?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. He knew better than to get between Britomart and his friend. Moreover he wasn't about to pick an argument with his Princess. "They enjoy life, Gawain. They just know themselves. We all need certain things."

"Certain things?" Contemplation fired up its furnace burning up a storm within Gawain's brain. He pondered the point for several heartbeats. Then Sarcasm forced a cough from his chest. "Need certain things." He smirked and nodded. "I knew it."

"Know what?" Merlin wondered.

"Yeah. You've got the look. You're showing the same thing that the Princess shows around Gwen. Yup." Gawain laughed. "You are so whipped."

"Whipped? What?" Merlin puzzled over his friend's meaning. Then Realization dawned the full meaning in his mind. He stared. "AM NOT!"

"And they say Denial's just a river in Norway." Gawain's eyes sparkled. Satisfaction twisted his mouth into a wide grin seeming to sprout canary feathers from its sides.

"Have you lost what's left of your mind?" Britomart snapped.

"Nope. I just know the signs, Brit." Gawain folded his arms across his chest. "Servant magic boy there is whipped."

"Gawain!" Merlin glanced around. "You know how stuff echoes around the castle! It is a secret!"

Gawain sighed. While he knew Merlin was right, he hated to give up that point. Still it was only a minor concession. "Whatever. Mith's still got you so twisted around her finger…."

Mithian snorted. "And how is that? We love each other. Perhaps and I say perhaps if you were to find such a person that could care and guide you, you might understand. And the 'Nile' is in Egypt not Norway."

"Is there a female Hercules to accomplish such a labor or teach you proper geography? The wonders would never cease," Britomart observed. She slapped the irreverent knight across the side of his head.

"OW! Hey!" Gawain complained.

"My Lady, I believe we need to fetch some more supplies. Perhaps you both can handle things from here?" Britomart supposed. She curtseyed. Then she grabbed Gawain by the hand. Her eyes narrowed much as a mother might discipline a recalcitrant child. "Come along. Now."

"What supplies? We're set and…oh yeah…" He coughed again. "More whipping. Got it." He turned to Merlin. "Just take it like a man. And…oh yeah…do plenty I would do."

"Gawain, I think you'd better quit while you're ahead," Merlin advised.

Britomart yanked the knight out of the chamber and down the passage. Still her efforts didn't stop his protests from echoing back to their ears in the very way Merlin had mentioned earlier.

"Princess, I…" Merlin bowed his head. His cheeks flushed from Embarrassment's prompting. "I just wish he wouldn't say that."

Mithian rubbed his arm. "He cares. He knows he can get you to react. Just take it as such." Her hand gently squeezed his; fingers interlocking with his too. Her eyes met his. "Is it so bad that we learn from each other?"

"I never said that. Princess, as you said, we love each other and…." He stopped himself short. Once again, his cheeks flushed. However, from them, Contentment's smile broke through Embarrassment's clouds. His eyes went wide.

Her eyes watered with Joy's tears; the latter dribbling down her cheeks. "You said it."

"I did…I really did." He peered deep into her eyes, through them and into their Link. He dove deeply into Emotion's fountain. Almost like a child being baptized in a Nazarene service, his skin tingled and heart soared. Amor's waves warmed. Bliss' ripples kissed his brow and calmed him. Resistance drained away down an imaginary grate in its side.

Now you know. Now you understand, Emrys. Camelot may have been your first service. Now though, it is time for deeper understanding. Now you have arrived to your new service. You are home truly now, the triple goddess instructed.

Home? What? I… he hesitated.

You love Mithian, do you not? It is a simple yes or no, she demanded.

I do. But politics and …. He bit his lip. Habit stopped his admission short.

Such things matter little. Man's practices and achievements are like sandcastles before the unending tide. They rise from the sand. The ocean's waves batter them. The structures are worn down and eventually fade from view. To think such achievements will last forever are but Vanity's whims, Emrys. At the base of anything comes the bond between man and woman. Arthur of Camelot needs to look ahead from your bond. So you shall from his as well. Guinevere will guide him. And as for you…

I have Princess Mithian, he realized.

The respect for her is a welcome trait, Emrys. Practice and maintain such an example. Humility, even among equals, is truly the hallmark of respect and love. I feel that she has a request for you. I will let her make it rather than tell you myself. Now you understand where True Duty lies. Treasure it and her, she clarified before going silent.

Mithian laid her lips upon his cheek laying Amor's gentle strokes across that canvas. As with him, her heart stirred accordingly. Her feet felt as if they weren't touching the ground. Her lungs could barely draw breath. The special glow in his eyes held Adoration's grace….

…special grace for her and her alone….

…as she was now his and his alone….

Her Merlin, his Mithian…..

He embraced her. Forgetting all else, he laid her lips upon hers. He didn't care about anything or anyone but her. He wanted to feel, touch and hold her. Class didn't matter. Rank didn't matter. At that heartbeat, even Camelot or Arthur didn't matter.

Only Mithian and her future registered on him.

She melted into his embrace. Much as Aladdin would glide on his carpet's delicate wool over the harsh desert, she floated on the warm breezes fully insulated from Reality's crushing vices. Her lips pressed back against his returning their offering and extending it for several heartbeats more.

When the moment had passed, he gasped. "Wow."

"It is amazing. Isn't it?" Her eyes twinkled. A wide smirk spread across her face. "We know now. Don't we?"

"Yeah we do. I do. Princess, I know I seem like I don't want it but…." he started.

"I know you do, Merlin. You were being careful. That's a good thing," she assured him. "Still there is something I need."

He nodded immediately. "Anything."

"There is the distinction between public and private. At court or, for the most part, here…" She held out her hands to encompass the entire chamber for effect. "…here, we should maintain appearances and distinctions. Here we are still Princess and servant…at least for now. In private, however…." She drew close to him once again. She looked into his eyes. "In private, no titles, no ranks or distinctions."

"No…?" He wondered what she was getting at.

"In private, please drop the title. I am simply Mithian with you, my Warlock and Prince. You are not my valet here. Here you are my equal, my partner and my love. Father knows and has faith. You should have it too," she requested.

"Mithian." His tongue fumbled with the new address for her. Habit hobbled his speech. His brain struggled with the notion. Still his heart assured him that all was well. Her eyes provided a welcome perch for his to alight upon and call home within their wonders. "Mithian…it sounds right."

"As Merlin has always for me, my Prince." She kissed him again sealing their pact. "Now come. We shouldn't linger much longer. Tasks still remain before tonight's feast."

"The feast. Right." He remembered to drop three steps behind as Custom demanded.

She ground her teeth but understood. She led them from the chamber and into the passage beyond. Still she exulted in their grand moment. Now they stood a step closer.

Gaius slipped from the shadows. He'd arrived at the chamber several heartbeats earlier. As he drew up to the door, he'd stumbled upon the couple in their ecstatic moment. The Eyebrow arched. Now he had confirmation of the brewing romance. He frowned knowing what he'd have to say. He knew what he'd need to do before Merlin got himself exiled, killed or worse.

He turned and headed back toward the chambers. At some point, there would be a lecture to head off a crisis.

Count on that…..