Callouses | Merlin, Arthur/Gwen | G | set during S3 (part 2 of 2)
Gwen nodded and hurried off, and Merlin did the same. He was disappointed to find that Gaius was out of his chambers, being that he definitely wanted advice about amnesia. However, he had to settle for leaving a brief note explaining his whereabouts, before shoving a bunch of things into his pack and heading for the stables to get horses readied for himself and Gwen. By the time he reached the gate, she was walking over from the direction of her house, clad in trousers suitable for riding and with a bag of her own.
Jory was slumped over in the front of his cart and snoring. "Jory?" Merlin nudged him. It took a few tries, but finally, their guide sat up with a series of grunts and snorts. Peering blearily at Gwen for a minute, he finally shrugged to himself.
"Right, then. This way."
He barely gave them time to mount up before clicking his horse into gear; it would seem that once he was awake, he was ready to move.
"Where are we going?" Gwen called over.
"This way," Jory repeated, as if that answered her question-- and that was all he said for the duration of the ride, save for complimenting how quickly Gwen got the fire going when they stopped for lunch. Camping out that night was much the same, with Gwen and Merlin reluctant to converse too much when Jory was keeping himself to himself-- even though they still had no idea where they were headed. They were aware of the general direction and would be able to find their way home, which was all that mattered.
Toward the end of the second day, a village came into view. "Here we are," Jory called, then promptly went quiet again until they rode into town. He pointed out a cottage that appeared to be in serious disrepair at the end of the road. "He's down there. And I hope he's yours, 'cause he don't know a milk stool from an udder. Don't think he'll last long on his own."
"Well, thank you for bringing us here," Gwen said. "We will see to it that you're amply rewarded."
He nodded. "That's good." With that, he turned his cart and moved off toward what was apparently his cottage. Merlin and Gwen exchanged a an amused glance before continuing down the road.
"Oh, my," she said softly, as they neared the ramshackle cottage. Merlin's jaw dropped.
Arthur was digging the most crooked furrows either of them had ever seen, in what was apparently a garden. He was covered in dirt and not getting very far, and was visibly frustrated.
Dismounting at the portion of fence that was standing in front of the property, Gwen and Merlin picked their way over. "Arthur?" Gwen asked carefully.
When he first looked at them, it was with a confused blankness, but surprise suddenly washed over his face. "Guinevere!" He smiled happily. "Merlin." Glancing down at the spade in his hands, he pondered it for a minute, before taking in the whole, small farm. "What am I doing?"
"We were told you got hit on the head. Nobody knew whom you are, yourself included," Merlin told him.
Arthur touched his head. "No, I think I understand that. I even remember setting this up. It's the 'why' I'm not clear on."
Gwen bit her lip. "You're a farmer, Arthur."
He stared at her. Then, with a laugh, he admitted, "I am."
"And you're rubbish at it," Merlin decided, shaking his head.
Without warning, Arthur tossed the spade at him, which Merlin managed to bat away. "It's a good thing you're here to show me how it's done, isn't it?"
"That's not what I meant," Merlin muttered.
"I think it's time for you to be a prince again," Gwen smiled, slipping her hand into Arthur's. "Come on, let's get you back to Camelot."
Gwen nodded and hurried off, and Merlin did the same. He was disappointed to find that Gaius was out of his chambers, being that he definitely wanted advice about amnesia. However, he had to settle for leaving a brief note explaining his whereabouts, before shoving a bunch of things into his pack and heading for the stables to get horses readied for himself and Gwen. By the time he reached the gate, she was walking over from the direction of her house, clad in trousers suitable for riding and with a bag of her own.
Jory was slumped over in the front of his cart and snoring. "Jory?" Merlin nudged him. It took a few tries, but finally, their guide sat up with a series of grunts and snorts. Peering blearily at Gwen for a minute, he finally shrugged to himself.
"Right, then. This way."
He barely gave them time to mount up before clicking his horse into gear; it would seem that once he was awake, he was ready to move.
"Where are we going?" Gwen called over.
"This way," Jory repeated, as if that answered her question-- and that was all he said for the duration of the ride, save for complimenting how quickly Gwen got the fire going when they stopped for lunch. Camping out that night was much the same, with Gwen and Merlin reluctant to converse too much when Jory was keeping himself to himself-- even though they still had no idea where they were headed. They were aware of the general direction and would be able to find their way home, which was all that mattered.
Toward the end of the second day, a village came into view. "Here we are," Jory called, then promptly went quiet again until they rode into town. He pointed out a cottage that appeared to be in serious disrepair at the end of the road. "He's down there. And I hope he's yours, 'cause he don't know a milk stool from an udder. Don't think he'll last long on his own."
"Well, thank you for bringing us here," Gwen said. "We will see to it that you're amply rewarded."
He nodded. "That's good." With that, he turned his cart and moved off toward what was apparently his cottage. Merlin and Gwen exchanged a an amused glance before continuing down the road.
"Oh, my," she said softly, as they neared the ramshackle cottage. Merlin's jaw dropped.
Arthur was digging the most crooked furrows either of them had ever seen, in what was apparently a garden. He was covered in dirt and not getting very far, and was visibly frustrated.
Dismounting at the portion of fence that was standing in front of the property, Gwen and Merlin picked their way over. "Arthur?" Gwen asked carefully.
When he first looked at them, it was with a confused blankness, but surprise suddenly washed over his face. "Guinevere!" He smiled happily. "Merlin." Glancing down at the spade in his hands, he pondered it for a minute, before taking in the whole, small farm. "What am I doing?"
"We were told you got hit on the head. Nobody knew whom you are, yourself included," Merlin told him.
Arthur touched his head. "No, I think I understand that. I even remember setting this up. It's the 'why' I'm not clear on."
Gwen bit her lip. "You're a farmer, Arthur."
He stared at her. Then, with a laugh, he admitted, "I am."
"And you're rubbish at it," Merlin decided, shaking his head.
Without warning, Arthur tossed the spade at him, which Merlin managed to bat away. "It's a good thing you're here to show me how it's done, isn't it?"
"That's not what I meant," Merlin muttered.
"I think it's time for you to be a prince again," Gwen smiled, slipping her hand into Arthur's. "Come on, let's get you back to Camelot."
Reply
Leave a comment