Callouses | Merlin, Arthur/Gwen | G | set during S3 (part 1 of 2)
Camelot was in an uproar. Arthur was missing, had been for days, and they were no closer to finding him now than when he first disappeared. Whilst the knights combed the width and breadth of the kingdom, Uther was meeting with every landholder in the kingdom, in case one of them had heard something from their peasants.
Merlin was passing the throne room, despondent and exhausted from aiding in the search efforts, when caught the tail end of a peasant being turned away by the guards.
"I'm telling you, I can help!"
"And I'm telling you to talk to your lord, so he can tell the king. If you do not leave now, you'll be thrown in the dungeon," one of the guards snapped. "King's orders."
"Fine!" The man stepped back, flinging up his hands. "But you can't say I didn't try." As he spun around and marched down the corridor, Merlin heard him muttering under his breath. "...dollophead don't deserve to get his son back..."
Merlin caught the man's arm. "Do you know of Prince Arthur's whereabouts?"
The man stared at Merlin's grip on his sleeve, only speaking when Merlin dropped it. "I might do, but the king don't care 'cause I actually work to put food on my family's table, instead of having it brought to me by--"
Whilst it was understandable, Merlin interrupted. "I care." The man eyed him, apparently undecided. Merlin held his gaze. "And I care about Arthur. And, I know what it means to work hard." He held out his hands to prove it, which were definitely not those of a pampered noble. "Please, if you know anything that could help us find him, tell me."
After another minute of internal debate, the man nodded. "All right. I can do more than help you find him-- I can take you straight to 'im. 'Least, I'm pretty sure it's him."
Merlin was willing to give it a try, but he still asked, "'Pretty sure'?"
"He don't know his name or aught-- took a knock to the nut." The man rapped his knuckles against his head to demonstrate. "But, he talks all proper and looks like they say he looks like."
That would explain why there had not been any word from him. "Well, my name is Merlin, and I would appreciate if you would show me where Prince Arthur is." He stuck out his hand.
"All right, Merlin." The man shook his hand. "I'm Jory. My cart's waiting out by the gate."
"Give me a few minutes to pack a bag?"
Jory agreed to meet Merlin shortly, and Merlin rushed toward the physician's chambers-- nearly bowling Gwen over when he went tearing around a corner.
Catching her arms to steady both of them, he exclaimed, "Sorry!"
"Merlin! Where on earth are you going in such a hurry?"
Since Jory had not been positive it was Arthur he was talking about, Merlin hesitated to say anything to Gwen. The shadows under her eyes spoke of having lost too much sleep, and the way distraction floated around her like a mist made her worry obvious. If this did not turn out to be Arthur, Merlin would hate to get her hopes up, only to be dashed. On the other hand, if it was Arthur and Merlin had said nothing, that would keep her in this state unnecessarily. Hesitantly, he said, "I... may have news about Arthur."
"How? Is he all right?"
Merlin winced and held up a hand. "It might not be him, Gwen. There's someone fitting his description, who's lost his memory. I'm going to see what's going on."
Gwen stepped back and stood straighter. "I'm going with you."
Merlin wondered if he should argue, then decided against it; although, one problem occurred to him. "How will you get leave from Morgana? I don't think we should tell her. You know, in case it's not Arthur." Actually, in case it is Arthur, because if he's lost his memory, that would be too much of an invitation for her to try something. Not for the first time, he wished he could just be forthcoming about that whole situation, but knew that was impossible.
Gwen murmured her agreement. "I'll say... I've had word from a sick friend, and would like to go see to them. Her. I doubt Morgana will argue with that."
"All right. Pack quickly; we're meeting by the gate as soon as possible. A man called Jory's waiting."
Camelot was in an uproar. Arthur was missing, had been for days, and they were no closer to finding him now than when he first disappeared. Whilst the knights combed the width and breadth of the kingdom, Uther was meeting with every landholder in the kingdom, in case one of them had heard something from their peasants.
Merlin was passing the throne room, despondent and exhausted from aiding in the search efforts, when caught the tail end of a peasant being turned away by the guards.
"I'm telling you, I can help!"
"And I'm telling you to talk to your lord, so he can tell the king. If you do not leave now, you'll be thrown in the dungeon," one of the guards snapped. "King's orders."
"Fine!" The man stepped back, flinging up his hands. "But you can't say I didn't try." As he spun around and marched down the corridor, Merlin heard him muttering under his breath. "...dollophead don't deserve to get his son back..."
Merlin caught the man's arm. "Do you know of Prince Arthur's whereabouts?"
The man stared at Merlin's grip on his sleeve, only speaking when Merlin dropped it. "I might do, but the king don't care 'cause I actually work to put food on my family's table, instead of having it brought to me by--"
Whilst it was understandable, Merlin interrupted. "I care." The man eyed him, apparently undecided. Merlin held his gaze. "And I care about Arthur. And, I know what it means to work hard." He held out his hands to prove it, which were definitely not those of a pampered noble. "Please, if you know anything that could help us find him, tell me."
After another minute of internal debate, the man nodded. "All right. I can do more than help you find him-- I can take you straight to 'im. 'Least, I'm pretty sure it's him."
Merlin was willing to give it a try, but he still asked, "'Pretty sure'?"
"He don't know his name or aught-- took a knock to the nut." The man rapped his knuckles against his head to demonstrate. "But, he talks all proper and looks like they say he looks like."
That would explain why there had not been any word from him. "Well, my name is Merlin, and I would appreciate if you would show me where Prince Arthur is." He stuck out his hand.
"All right, Merlin." The man shook his hand. "I'm Jory. My cart's waiting out by the gate."
"Give me a few minutes to pack a bag?"
Jory agreed to meet Merlin shortly, and Merlin rushed toward the physician's chambers-- nearly bowling Gwen over when he went tearing around a corner.
Catching her arms to steady both of them, he exclaimed, "Sorry!"
"Merlin! Where on earth are you going in such a hurry?"
Since Jory had not been positive it was Arthur he was talking about, Merlin hesitated to say anything to Gwen. The shadows under her eyes spoke of having lost too much sleep, and the way distraction floated around her like a mist made her worry obvious. If this did not turn out to be Arthur, Merlin would hate to get her hopes up, only to be dashed. On the other hand, if it was Arthur and Merlin had said nothing, that would keep her in this state unnecessarily. Hesitantly, he said, "I... may have news about Arthur."
"How? Is he all right?"
Merlin winced and held up a hand. "It might not be him, Gwen. There's someone fitting his description, who's lost his memory. I'm going to see what's going on."
Gwen stepped back and stood straighter. "I'm going with you."
Merlin wondered if he should argue, then decided against it; although, one problem occurred to him. "How will you get leave from Morgana? I don't think we should tell her. You know, in case it's not Arthur." Actually, in case it is Arthur, because if he's lost his memory, that would be too much of an invitation for her to try something. Not for the first time, he wished he could just be forthcoming about that whole situation, but knew that was impossible.
Gwen murmured her agreement. "I'll say... I've had word from a sick friend, and would like to go see to them. Her. I doubt Morgana will argue with that."
"All right. Pack quickly; we're meeting by the gate as soon as possible. A man called Jory's waiting."
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