Truth and Legend (2/6)
This has been a long time coming. It ended up much longer than intended, and took many an edit to get to even this state. And I'm still not quite satisfied. but that's what you get for writing 44k! Anyway, I'd like you to meet Elaine. She's important.
Title: Truth and Legend
Author:
weepingwillow9
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, or this is what would happen
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Lance, Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, Elaine (OC), Linet (OC), Gareth (OC), Galahad (OC), Mordred, Gaius
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin/Lance/Gwaine, Morgana/Elaine, Lance/Elaine
Warnings: Sex, battles, attempted suicide, character death
Spoilers: This starts off sometime after Arthur's Coronation (Series Four Episode Three) but minus the events of Series Four Episodes One and Two - so Lancelot is still around. I like to think that the Cailleach became the sacrifice, anyway...
Rating: NC-17
Length: 44198
Summary: When the Lady Elaine arrives at Camelot, she sets off a chain of events that will change the Kingdom forever
Part One
“Arthur?”
“Merlin? Didn’t I just send you away?”
“You did, but Elaine needs a word, and I doubt she’d come if I weren’t dragging her.”
It wasn’t quite true. Merlin didn’t have to drag Elaine, just grip her hand back as hard as she was holding his. But she wouldn’t have come on her own, so it was accurate enough to suffice.
“You can come in, then.”
Arthur was sitting at his desk, rolling up the parchment that he was reading. He gestured Merlin over to the table, and he helped Elaine to sit.
“Do you want me to stay?” Merlin asked, hand on her shoulder.
“No, you’re busy. I’ll find you later, fill you in.”
Her smile was a little strained, but at least it was there. Her head turned as if to watch Merlin out of the door, but twisted back again at the sound of Arthur drawing up a chair.
“So, Elaine. How can I help you?”
She bit her lip, indecision weighing heavy on her. Then she sighed. Since Arthur knew there was a problem he wouldn’t settle without her saying something. It may as well be the truth.
“I have a son,” she blurted, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth.
There was a pressure on her fingers, tugging them away.
“Tell me what happened.”
And then it all came out. How she met Lance, how they fell in love, how he left just before she could tell him she was pregnant. The curse, the worries, and then the coming to Camelot to find Lance.
“But I miss Galahad. I can’t bear to be without him. I was wondering, if-”
And then her words cut off, because she couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer.
Arthur stayed silent for a while, still holding her hand, not quite sure what to do with it, or her. He didn’t do hugs, but if he did, well. She’d have been thoroughly hugged.
“If you want to bring him here, I wouldn’t object. That is, if you’re going to tell Lancelot?” She shook her head, gripping onto his hand, “Or try to keep Galahad secret? I could find you more extensive rooms, further from the knights.”
Her hold tightened again, and Arthur squeezed back, briefly, trying not to wince.
“You would do that? Arthur, I- Thank you.”
“It’s alright, Elaine. I- I think we’re going to get along, and I want to help. Besides, you did help to protect my kingdom, and- and Merlin.”
At the mention of Merlin’s name, Elaine’s slight smile grew into something a little more calculating, but genuine all the same.
“So, Arthur,” she said, “Tell me why my protection of Merlin matters so much to you.”
“Oh, you know. A good servant is hard to come by.”
He tried to laugh it off, but Elaine just frowned.
“Don’t you dare, Arthur Pendragon. Not after I told you all my secrets.”
He sighed, let his head lower, his face fall. He was vulnerable in that moment, defences down, and Elaine could have ripped him apart. But she didn’t want to. She just felt the sagging, through his lax grip, and followed his sigh as he exhaled.
“Arthur?” she prompted, and then it was like he couldn’t stop.
“I love him, have done probably since he stood up to me that first day. But he’s never shown any sign, and God, I was a complete arse to him, trying to push him away and stop whatever the hell this is, because I can’t, Elaine.”
“Why not?” she all but whispered.
“Because he’s a servant, and I’m the King, and if I said anything and he said yes, I’d never know if it was what he wanted or what he was giving me because I wanted it. Or worse still, he’d say no, and I don’t know if I could cope with seeing him after that. But I couldn’t get rid of him, he means too much by far. If he wanted this, me, surely he’d have given me some sort of sign.”
“Maybe he’s scared too. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s waiting on some sort of sign from you. Or maybe he’s been trying to show you, but because it’s you two you can’t understand each other.”
Arthur shook his head, slowly, letting go of Elaine’s hand to run his fingers through his hair.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m the King, I have more important things to be thinking about. I don’t need to be worrying about Merlin of all things every waking moment.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, and then she got up, feeling her way around the table to him, until she could reach her arms around him and hug him.
“You know what, I think Camelot is suffering because of this.”
“What do you mean?” His head snapped upright, and Elaine made sure to temper her voice with a little playfulness when she next spoke.
“I mean that you clearly don’t have your whole mind on the affairs of the land. So, basically, you and Merlin need to work out this thing between you.”
“Elaine-” he began, and there was a warning in his tone, but she just continued, finding his mouth and pressing her hand over it to shut him up.
“You start showing him you care. I don’t mind how. But if you don’t, Arthur, I swear I will find a way to lock you two in the same room until you’ve talked this through. Because I’m pretty sure he cares about you, and you’re only hurting each other like this. It’s not fair on either of you.”
Arthur made a sound like he was about to refuse, and then nodded.
“Alright. If you’re sure. You are sure, aren’t you, Elaine?”
She smiled, dropping her hand to his shoulder.
“I have never been surer of anything in my life.”
oOo
Later that afternoon, with Elaine sitting on her bed sharpening her sword, there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” she called, pausing in her work.
“It’s Gwen, my Lady, the King sent me?”
“Come in!” Elaine sheathed the sword, then turned in the direction of the door.
“What is it, Gwen?” she asked.
“Arthur says he’s readied your new rooms.”
“That was… fast,” Elaine said, a grin slowly starting to form on her face.
“It’s very good of him, isn’t it, letting you stay here for the foreseeable future and all of that,” and oh, that was not good at all, the slightly wistful sound to Gwen’s voice. Elaine hoped it didn’t mean what she thought it did, or if it did, that this was only some sort of passing infatuation. Arthur had confessed it to her himself; it was Merlin he loved, not Gwen.
“He’s a good man,” Elaine replied, trying to remain neutral, “A good King, and a good friend.”
Gwen just smiled, with an almost shy sound, half giggle, half sigh.
“Well, Arthur wanted me to show you to the rooms. They’re near to his, and he’s- He’s done something really lovely.”
When Gwen guided Elaine’s hand over the doorhandle, Elaine knew exactly what Gwen meant. The handle was made of intricately woven metal, different to every other door in the castle, so Elaine could find it herself. It was so thoughtful; so, well, lovely that Elaine had to see him.
“Where is he?” she asked, “Can you take me to him?”
“Actually, his rooms are just next door.”
Elaine gasped at the gesture of favour, and let Gwen lead her along the corridor.
“Arthur Pendragon, where are you?” It was a demand, and Arthur stood up, feeling guilty for some reason he couldn’t quite comprehend.
“Here.”
And then the breath was taken from him as Elaine flung her arms around him.
“Come here, you beautiful man!”
“Erm, I’m here?”
Elaine just laughed, kissed his cheek.
“Thank you! It’s wonderful!”
“The rooms?”
“Oh, I haven’t been inside. The door handle!”
Then the contact was gone, and Elaine was fleeing the rooms, laughing a little. And Arthur was left wondering, yet again, what to make of her.
oOo
She, Gwen, Gareth and Linet spent the rest of the afternoon moving Elaine’s possessions into the new rooms. When Merlin got wind of the move, he came to join them, dragging Gwaine along with him. Gwaine and Gareth got on immediately, trying to outdo each other lifting Elaine’s baggage, though there was little enough of it. They joked together, loudly, effectively quashing all other conversation.
It was only when all Elaine and Linet’s possessions were moved that Merlin had a chance to realise what the rooms meant. They were changed, the hangings on the bed different, the screen new, a servant’s pallet, a cradle at the foot of the bed that they’d convinced Gwaine was just there for storage. But it was still the same space - Morgana’s rooms.
Merlin couldn’t quite work out what that meant, if anything. Knowing Arthur, he probably just used the rooms out of practicality. They were spacious enough for a mother and child, and her servant. But subconsciously, there would be something else. Had Arthur admitted that Morgana was gone forever, or was this temporary? Or was Elaine a Morgana replacement? Or none of that?
oOo
That evening, they made their plans. Linet and Gareth were to go to Astolat, taking with them a letter written and signed by Arthur, as proof of his complicity. In only a few days’ time, Elaine would have her son again.
She was back at training the next day. The knights progressed well; not as good as her, of course, but that was only to be expected. She was blinded constantly, they relied on their sight the rest of the time. She taught them the nuances of sound, the ways to tell when a man was tiring or feinting from his footfall. She taught them on different surfaces, different spaces, teaching them to make out the echoes and gauge distances.
When she tried to teach Lance directly, he still shied from her.
“I think I know what your problem is,” Merlin told him, walking beside Lance as they made for the armoury, “It’s not that Elaine’s back in your life again, it’s that she’s so nice to you.”
As they walked, their shoulders swayed into each other. Merlin had only to lean a little, and he nudged Lance.
He didn’t reply, just looked thoughtful.
“I’ve seen your guilty looks. You should talk to her. Apologise.”
At that, Lance’s face lit up.
“Yes. I should, shouldn’t I? I haven’t been very honourable in my treatment of her.”
And there he was, Lance the knight, ever brave, ever chivalrous.
“Elaine!” he called, and with that was gone.
“Elaine, I need to speak with you.”
“Of course, Lance,” she said with a smile, “But I muddied my sword, I need to see to it in the armoury. Can it wait a few minutes?”
“Oh, it won’t be long, we can talk while you work.”
Elaine’s face fell, just a little. She shouldn’t have hoped.
“Of course.” Her voice was dead, but Lance was far too busy arranging his wording to notice.
“I wanted to apologise, for leaving you. And for avoiding you.”
“Oh, Lance, I’ve long forgiven you for both.” She laid a hand on his arm, squeezed just slightly, and he watched it warily.
“So, how’ve you been? What brings you to Camelot?”
Letting go of Lance’s arm, she took a seat in the armoury, scrabbled for a cloth until Lance passed her one, and started cleaning the sword. Mentally removing each reference to their child in her story.
“Well, after all your tales, I had to see for myself. Not see, because of the curse, but you know what I mean.” Her voice dropped, and she was a little wistful. “You always knew what I meant.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you, Elaine. I’ve changed since we last met.”
“So have I.”
He could see it, in the angle of her chin, the way she held herself. She was stronger, harder. Something had happened, but he couldn’t ask. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression, and there was so much between them. He doubted they could truly be friends again, knew they could never be lovers. He just didn’t feel the same way.
Maybe if he could see her eyes, bright blue, like Merlin’s and like Arthur’s, but even then. He’d loved her, but he hadn’t been in love with her.
There was a defiance in her stance, daring him to break the silence. He’d always liked that about her. But it was harsher now, turned on him rather than her parents, or the other knights.
“I should’ve told you why I left,” he said, guilt still welling up within him.
“You could tell me now?” Yes, she was as frightened as he, hesitant, not sure whether she wanted to hear. To have her hopes dashed this early, it would be terrible. He shut his eyes, because it would be hard enough to admit to without having to watch her.
“I left because what we had wasn’t real. I’m glad I realised that in time. We were just two people searching for something, kindred spirits. And we thought that what we were looking for was each other, but it wasn’t. I loved you, but not enough to spend the rest of my life with you. And I couldn’t condemn you to a life like that. And I was a coward, I couldn’t bear to hurt you, so I left.”
Elaine had stilled, head turned down.
“Elaine?”
He laid a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, batting him away.
“I- I think you ought to go.”
Her voice was close to breaking, he could tell. But he knew her. She’d never admit defeat, so he wouldn’t point it out to her. He’d leave her, quickly, find her someone to care for her. And then he could go to nurse his guilt, because clearly she had felt more than he had.
Looking back, she’d always admitted to more than him. The I love yous in the middle of the night had begun with her, not him. And it wasn’t because she was braver, like he had thought, but because she had believed more. Oh, he’d been stupid.
Merlin was hurrying down the corridor, obviously back with an errand from Arthur, so Lance called out to him.
“It’s Elaine. In the armoury. She needs someone, I’ve been stupid, and tactless, and I’ve hurt her again.”
Merlin pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as they passed.
“You told her the truth?” Lance nodded, “Then, you’ve done the right thing.”
Merlin took her in his arms and held her there, until she straightened and smiled again.
“I’ll just have to make him love me this time round.”
And again, Merlin couldn’t quite bring himself to knock down her hopes.
oOo
Every evening, Elaine knocked on Arthur’s door. She’d make sure to do it when Merlin was there, too, so she could encourage Arthur in his new attempts at flirtation. The real reason for the visits was Arthur’s map. She’d trace Linet and Gareth’s progress, counting down the days until she had her son in her arms again.
The first night went better than expected.
Elaine’s fingers lingered over the surface of the map like a caress, one on Astolat and her son, the other guided by Arthur from Camelot to where Gareth and Linet should have reached.
“That’s one day’s ride,” he told her, then fell silent.
“Do you have anything else for me to do, sire?” Merlin asked.
“No, that’s it for tonight, I think-”
Elaine just had to kick him. To Arthur’s merit, he didn’t cry out at all. Just winced a little.
“Arthur, are you alright?” Merlin hurried over, then stopped still, hovering a little too close to Arthur for his wellbeing. Elaine had to bite her lip to stop herself laughing.
“I think I pulled something in training today,” Arthur lied, and Elaine took the opportunity to grin over Merlin’s shoulder and mouth flirt, you bastard. Arthur couldn’t lip read, but he did get the general idea.
“Actually, it’s a spot I can’t quite reach, could you- I mean, if it isn’t too much trouble- There’s some ointment in the cupboard, I need-”
Merlin stared at Arthur. He’d seen Arthur facing certain death, and playful, and pretty much everything in between. But incoherent was new. Arthur blushed under the scrutiny, and while that was a sight that Merlin could look at forever he decided to save Arthur.
“I could apply it, if you like?”
Arthur merely gave him a curt nod, pulled off his shirt, and sat on the bed. Merlin grabbed the jar, scooped out a decent amount and started to rub it in. And this was a very bad idea. Arthur couldn’t quite suppress the quiet moans he let out, just from Merlin’s fingers on his shoulder. He was sure Merlin was going to notice something.
But Merlin was still convinced that Arthur was in pain, and wrote the sounds off as being due to that.
“Is this alright, Arthur?” he asked, voice lower than the occasion called for. Arthur thought he could just about float. “Does it hurt?”
“It feels… good.”
As Elaine picked her way out, she shot Arthur a smirk.
The second night, Arthur attempted a compliment.
He was guiding Elaine’s fingers over the map again, now closer to Astolat than to Camelot. The door opened, Merlin struggling in with some firewood. Elaine could hear his feet dragging, his steps heavy, falling against furniture. She shoved Arthur away from her and towards Merlin.
He gave her a quick questioning look, but Elaine just shooed him away.
The next thing Merlin knew, Arthur’s hands were next to his on the handle of the firewood bucket.
“Let me help you with that.”
If Arthur hadn’t already taken most of the weight, Merlin would have dropped the bucket in shock. Together they manoeuvred it towards the fire, and Merlin knelt to build up the fire. Arthur just leant back against the bedpost and admired the view of Merlin’s arse.
Elaine smacked his arm.
“Merlin… is that a new neckerchief?”
His head turned to face Arthur, slowly.
“No?”
“Oh. Well, it,” he gestured wildly, “Suits you.”
Elaine wished she could take the blindfold off. She could practically hear the click when Merlin’s jaw dropped.
“Thank you, Arthur,” he said, turning back to the fireplace.
Elaine pressed a delighted kiss to Arthur’s cheek on the way out.
The third day went better than even Elaine could have planned out.
“They should be in Astolat by now,” Arthur told her, though she already knew that.
“I saw you in Council today,” Merlin said.
It had been a hard day, filled with meetings with people who all knew their own field, but had come up with differing opinions on the problems Camelot faced. Camelot needed to strengthen certain borders, but that cost money, money that Arthur refused to raise taxes to find. Add to that problem the prioritisation of certain borders, and the risk of incensing conflict; Arthur had left with his head pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. Instead, he humoured Merlin and nodded. When his head fell he wondered if he might be allowed to keep it against his chest. It was so comfortable there, so heavy to lift. But Elaine would kill him if he fell asleep when he should be showing Merlin he cared.
“You were brilliant.”
There was no hint of sarcasm, just sheer admiration.
“I was?”
“You know you were, you arrogant prat.”
His voice was teasing, which Arthur knew and understood. As usual, Merlin knew exactly what Arthur needed - he was feeling less stressed already.
“Merlin, I don’t analyse my performance while I work. I do have more important things to be concentrating on.”
“Oh? I thought your ego was the most important thing in Camelot?”
Arthur laughed, because the most important thing in Camelot was standing right in front of him. His most important thing in Camelot, anyway.
“I happen to take pride in protecting the people of Camelot, who are the most important thing. That’s my job. I actually do the work I’m expected to, unlike some people I know.”
He took a few steps towards Merlin. Merlin’s breath caught, but Arthur didn’t notice. Elaine did, creeping behind Arthur and out of the door, in case she was in the way.
“You couldn’t survive a day without me.”
“Probably not,” Arthur admitted, and Merlin could almost think he heard something else in that voice. But not quite.
Merlin cleared his throat. He’d been far too close to doing something entirely inappropriate. Or admitting to something that Arthur would only laugh at him for.
“I’d best go, Arthur. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He ducked out of the door, quickly, leaving Arthur hurt and gaping.
oOo
Elaine always woke early, so it wouldn’t be hard to catch Merlin on the walk of shame back to Gaius’ rooms. But apparently that wasn’t to be. She hovered by her door, listening for Merlin’s recognisable footsteps, but there was nothing. An hour after dawn, she heard the sound she’d been listening for, but they were headed in the wrong direction entirely.
With a sinking feeling, she waited for Merlin to pass, knowing that somehow between them he and Arthur had ruined a very promising situation.
Then she picked up her book, and started off for Lancelot’s room.
Things were stilted between Merlin and Arthur that morning, their conversation limited to the purely functional. When Arthur announced that he would go to organise a patrol, Merlin was relieved. He didn’t turn his head as Arthur left, though Arthur was waiting for it.
oOo
There was a knock on Lance’s door, and he started. He recognised the knock, but it wasn’t one of the knights’, or Merlin’s. With it came feelings of something wonderful and hidden, but he couldn’t quite put a face to the pattern of taps.
“Lancelot?” Elaine called, and then the memories came flooding back, of the promises to visit each other’s bed, her quiet knock, not wanting to wake anyone other than him. Lance pulling her into his bed, cold from the corridors and the brief run across the battlements.
He got up, hurriedly, opening the door for her. He wondered what this was; a peace offering perhaps, or maybe just a refusal to believe that he didn’t love her.
“Elaine, come in.” Guiding her to sit on the chair, he let himself remember just what attracted him to Elaine in the first place. She really was beautiful, and as she sat she held herself with all the grace of the princess she was. Elaine took a breath, straightened her back, gripped onto her book. This was a practiced speech, and he wouldn’t interrupt her. He remembered well the consequences of interrupting Elaine.
“I won’t waste either of our time, Lance, I’ll say what I’ve come for. I’ll admit I was upset by what you said, but I understand why you left, and I will not hate you for it. Though I do wish you’d spoken to me, I’ve missed you.”
She took another deep breath, shuffling the book in her hands, playing with the weight of it.
“I’d like to still be friends, if we can’t be anything more. I- With the blindfold, I can’t see to read, and I remember how you loved to tell me stories. You had - have - a wonderful reading voice, Lance, and I wondered if you might read to me? It gets quite boring around the castle when everyone’s so busy.”
He was suspicious when she said that. She was planning something, he knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny her a little thing like reading. Lance still cared about Elaine; he didn’t want to lose her as a friend over something trivial.
“Sure, I’m free now if that’s alright with you.”
She handed him the book with a smile. One that would once have melted his heart.
“That sounds perfect.”
And he read, a poem about knights and fair ladies and fearsome beasts, and Elaine drank the whole thing in, settling down into the chair, relaxing into his voice, soothed by it. Between sentences he would glance up at her, watching as her edges smoothed, until the Elaine of right now and the Elaine of before overlapped and merged into one, where he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
oOo
The hovel was cold, shaded from the sun by the very rocks that guarded it. Moss covered, they stood a silent sentinel. Sometimes Morgana would lean against them, letting their cool seep into her bones, slowing herself until she felt them breathe with her. But now, she had more important things on her mind.
The servant she had paid off had sent word that her chambers were once more in use, and Morgana was curious.
She was always wary of her foresight. Sometimes it showed the truth, but often it led astray. It was hard to channel, and often clouded. But she had to see.
Morgana knew she was never going back, so she didn’t understand it at all. Her old rooms should mean nothing to her, and yet, a spark of something disturbed her heart at the thought that someone else was in them. But it couldn’t be regret, and it couldn’t be jealousy, because who would want to be around King Arthur?
She refused to think of it as anything more than nostalgia, but still she filled the scrying bowl with water, passed her hands over the surface, spoke the words.
It is the present moment, and there is a woman in the chambers, with her servant. The conversation cannot be heard, but it is of no importance. The woman’s back is visible, as she faces the window. She’s slim, in a deep purple dress, strangely with an armour plate covering her torso, and a sword hanging from her hip.
She turns, and her front is protected by a breastplate. It’s quite tight to her body, presumably to prevent weapons slipping up under it, and at the sight something wells up within Morgana. Arthur forbade her from fighting, and now he plays host to a woman who is clearly dressed for just that.
When the haze of anger fades, Morgana notices the blindfold. The cloth is embroidered, rich and beautiful, but it’s intriguing.
She needs to see more of this woman.
Morgana doesn’t go forwards very far in time. The next event that comes to her has the woman in bed, in just a night dress, but it’s not in Morgana’s rooms. It’s dark, and Morgana’s eyes take a while to get used to the lack of light. When they do, she recognises her own home, though much tidier.
The woman rolls over, sits up and smiles. Morgana is not a good lipreader, but she’s sure the woman says her name.
She doesn’t want to watch any more, but she has no choice. Once this vision has been let in, the flood gates are open.
The woman, smiling.
With a child on her hip, scowling and shouting at someone.
Protective, holding the child close to her chest.
Crying, her tears wetting the blindfold, soaking it dark.
Her eyes freed and clear, triumphant, bloodied sword in her hand, sky grey above her. Then, from nowhere, a sword. And her blood everywhere, her eyes widening in shock, mouth opening into a silent cry. She has enough strength left to kill the man who hurt her, but after that she drops her sword, sinks to the ground, and her eyes close…
Morgana took a step back from the bowl, holding her hands over her eyes in a futile attempt to un-See. But there was no return.
She’d never Seen that clearly for anyone but Arthur. Strange for a woman she had never met. But it would appear that they had a destiny.
Though this woman was on Arthur’s side, which couldn’t be right. Morgana consoled herself with the fact that it was only a possible future, and tried to forget what she had Seen.
Late at night, she woke with the memory of a woman’s lips under hers, soft but firm flesh under her fingers. And she didn’t know if it was a vision or just her imagination.
oOo
Elaine found Arthur that evening. Merlin wasn’t around. She got the distinct feeling they were avoiding each other.
“So,” she said, turned towards Arthur, taut and bursting with intent, “What happened after I left?”
She didn’t need to be in Arthur’s rooms. Linet and Gareth would have reached Astolat by now, would not be setting out until the morning. There was no movement to trace. But she was worried.
“I was thinking, maybe we should send Lance out to the Western border on patrol, just to keep him out of the way while Galahad settles in.”
Elaine stepped over to him and slapped his arm.
“Arthur! What happened?”
“I thought it was going well. I thought he might let me kiss him. Then he left.”
He fell back onto the bed, lying out flat on his back.
“There, are you happy now? Have I been humiliated enough?”
“Oh, Arthur, sweetie,” she felt her way over to the bed, sitting next to his hip and smoothing his hair, “You don’t really think that’s what I want. You’ve helped me so much, in turn I only want you to be happy.”
Arthur Pendragon did not do hugs. Hugs were not needed around him. But he pulled Elaine down, and it was more, well. Just not a hug.
“He was probably just scared, Arthur. Scared you didn’t feel the same. Don’t avoid him, you’ve got to run after him. Show him. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, and Elaine pulled him back upright.
“So, what are you waiting for?”
He rolled his eyes, laughing a little.
“I’m going, Elaine. And tell me what you think about the patrol later.”
She let herself out, smiling, because Arthur was just ridiculous.
oOo
Arthur went to Gaius’ chambers, because helping him was usually what Merlin resorted to when he was hiding from Arthur. He opened the door, uninvited, and true to form Merlin was there, relabeling bottles.
“Merlin, I’ve barely seen you all day!”
False cheer, and he was sure Merlin noticed it. But it didn’t matter, they were in the same room and that was a start.
“Yeah, been helping Gaius.”
“I can see,” Arthur said, taking a few steps over and examining bottles.
“He’s been really busy.”
“You know, Merlin, anyone would think you were avoiding me.” He didn’t meet Merlin’s eye, didn’t quite risk seeing the confirmation. Because he wasn’t quite sure why, whether the very thought of Arthur and kissing disgusted Merlin, or whether what Elaine said was true.
Merlin didn’t speak. It was enough.
“It’s… quiet without you.”
Another silence, but this one broken by Merlin. He couldn’t bear it any longer.
“What are you trying to say, Arthur?”
Their eyes met, and Merlin almost thought he saw everything he’d ever wanted in Arthur’s gaze. Arthur almost thought he could show it all. Every last ounce of love. But eyes were never quite enough for what he felt for Merlin. Nowhere near.
Merlin looked down, breaking apart, trying desperately not to hope. He was too close, this was why he’d tried to get some distance, it would never, ever work.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Arthur said, and he sighed, and looked away. Merlin couldn’t understand the wistfulness in Arthur’s voice, unless he really meant the opposite. But this was Arthur, there was no way, no fucking way that he wanted Merlin.
“Still, you should come back with me.” A request, not an order. Arthur left, and Merlin followed.
It was a start.
oOo
“Merlin, are you listening?”
He knew that Elaine had been talking to him, but not what about. He had been so distracted, so busy with thoughts of Arthur to care at all.
Their evening of teasing, what had it meant? What did Arthur want?
“I was asking you what you thought of Arthur sending Lance away on patrol.”
Oh, that. Well, he didn’t want Lance to go. It was too dangerous, and he liked to have the men he loved near to him, where he could protect them. But he didn’t think that Elaine would take kindly to that train of thought, and the revelation about their relationship that went with it.
“It’s up to you, Elaine. You know Lance will be fine.” A lie, of course, even he didn’t, “so it’s really all your choice. If it would make things easier, get Arthur to send him away. If you’d rather he were around for you to flirt with, get Arthur to keep him here. Or get Arthur to do what he wants.”
Elaine brightened at that, and smiled.
“That’s it. I’ll get Arthur to choose.” Because she really didn’t know what she wanted; she needed some time with her son, but she needed Lance to love her. She would have to keep Galahad secret from more than just Lance, so his absence was not necessary.
“Can you tell him? Please, Merlin.”
A ploy to throw them together, again. She really was transparent.
Or maybe she just wasn’t trying to hide.
oOo
After training, Elaine went to Lance’s rooms with him. He’d promised her another poem, and he lived up to his promises.
It was strange, but her company didn’t bother him at all now. He quite liked it, actually; they’d briefly been friends before sleeping together. She was kind, and smart, and brave. They talked about training, about the knights, the threats from across different borders. Lance told Elaine stories, of Arthur and the rest of the knights now, because he had exhausted his own. Elaine even had tales to share. Few, but it was more than most women had.
Before Lance knew it, they were beginning to fall back into a pattern. Just, without the touching and the kissing and the sex. It was nice, but it worried him. Elaine clearly wanted something he could no longer give. She couldn’t be allowed to hope for it. He wouldn’t break her heart again.
oOo
That evening, Arthur pulled Elaine’s finger back over the map.
“It’ll be slower going back, with a child,” he told her, kindly, still holding her wrist.
Merlin walked in.
“I’ve got your dinner.”
“Still haven’t learnt to knock, I see.”
“If I’d knocked, your dinner would’ve got cold. And you don’t like cold dinner.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. It was like Elaine could feel it; she hit him.
“Is there enough for two?” Arthur asked.
Merlin’s eyes darted to Elaine, apprehensively. She wasn’t after Arthur… though, to be fair, that didn’t mean that Arthur wasn’t after her.
“I didn’t bring another plate, but there should be, sire.”
Merlin’s voice was so concerned that Elaine huffed, smiled at them both.
“Bye, Arthur.”
Merlin frowned.
“Don’t worry about the plate, Merlin. You can just eat from that.”
Arthur waved at the tureen, and Merlin’s brow furrowed yet further. Elaine must have put Arthur up to this. He wouldn’t think of that on his own, surely. But Elaine’s face was pleasantly surprised as she left, patting his shoulder reassuringly as she passed so maybe… maybe not.
Maybe Arthur- but no. Arthur might be being nice, but that didn’t mean that he had to like Merlin. At least not in that way.
“I don’t have another spoon,” he said.
“Well, call for one. I want some company, and you are not running away.” Arthur punctuated each word with a wave of his spoon as he sat down. When Merlin made no move, he cocked his head, and Merlin ran to the door, grabbing the next passing servant. Who happened to be Gwen.
“Not sure what’s got into Arthur,” he whispered, “But he wants another plate and a spoon. And he won’t let me leave for it.”
Gwen giggled.
“On it.”
“Sit, Merlin.” There was the edge of a plea to Arthur’s voice, something entirely new, and Merlin would have quite liked to listen to it forever. He sat, though, tucking himself into the table.
“How was your day?” Arthur asked.
“You should know. You’re the one who sent me off on all those errands.”
There was a silence, and Arthur played with his spoon against the plate.
“Yes, well. Humour me.”
Merlin looked at him, trying to work it out.
“Well, I sorted out your laundry, got talking to Meg there, she’s lovely, from the west coast. Then I ran a few errands for Gaius, swept and dusted your rooms, finished in time to watch you in training for a while, undressed you and sorted your bath, got you lunch. While you ate I chatted to Gwen for a while, then I cleared away, and-”
“Woah, Merlin, alright, you were busy, I get it.” Arthur’s eyes had glazed over, and he was still a bit distant.
“But I hadn’t even got to the part with the mucking out the stables!”
Arthur rolled his eyes.
“I’m sure there are servants who have a worse lot than you, Merlin.”
“Yes, well. You could do something about it.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they’d just get paid less if there were more to help.”
Merlin hadn’t thought of that, and he nodded.
There was a pause, and definitely something he should be saying to Arthur. But the words were new, and uncomfortable in the back of his mind. The silence was worse, though, so he tried them on his tongue.
“How- how was your day?”
Easier to say than he’d thought. He only tripped the once, and Arthur’s smile was reward enough. His knee rested gently against Merlin’s, and neither of them thought to move.
“It was difficult. It started well, with training as you know, but then… Council was terrible, I’m being pressured from so many directions, and I don’t know what will cave first. And then Leon brought up Morgana.”
Arthur didn’t need to say any more. The downwards tilt of his mouth admitted what Arthur couldn’t bring himself to say, that he wanted his sister back. But he could never allow that. Her every mention was like a repeat of the betrayal, in miniature, and Merlin just wanted to hold him and soothe all the pain away. Now was not the time. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a time, but it was too soon, and too uncertain.
There was a knock on the door, and Merlin jerked his knee away from Arthur’s, guiltily, at the intrusion. He went over to the door, opened it, took the spoon and plate from Gwen.
“Thanks. You’re an absolute star.”
She blushed a little, waved her goodbye.
“Oh, finally,” Arthur said, “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get to eat tonight.”
Merlin forced himself to laugh, ladling out portions of the stew for both him and Arthur. Arthur broke his bread in two and passed the larger half to Merlin. His heart swelled at the gesture. Maybe.
“What brought this on, Arthur?” he asked, because he felt like pushing his luck. Somehow he knew it’d be alright.
Arthur shrugged.
“Just wanted to talk to you, I suppose.”
Merlin nodded.
“What about?”
“Anything. What do you want to talk about?”
Merlin frowned.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who sprung this on me. You find a conversation topic.”
Arthur looked panicked for a moment, trying to think of something, anything.
“Midsummer soon.”
“Hmm.”
“You looking forward to it?”
“Mmhmmm.”
Arthur gave Merlin a sidelong look. He was busily eating as quickly as he could.
“Merlin. You are allowed to take breaks between bites. You know, to have a conversation.”
Merlin swallowed. Arthur watched his Adam’s apple, which was just gorgeous as it slipped down the column of his throat, snapping back up again.
“Oh. Right.”
He carried on shovelling his food. Arthur took his wrist.
“Merlin. Stop. Tell me about Midsummer.”
“I’ll be serving at the feast, so I won’t get to join in then, but there’ll be a party for the servants later, and that’ll be fun. I’m not a great dancer, but I’ll be drunk enough in the evening to get by, I suppose.”
“Don’t you dare fall into the bonfire,” Arthur teased, “Anyone you’re saving the first dance for?”
Merlin tried and failed to contain the blush.
“I’m not after any of the girls. What about you?” he asked, changing the subject, “Got your eye on anyone?”
“There is someone,” Arthur admitted, eyes boring into Merlin. He had to look away; he was flushing again. Arthur seemed so earnest, but it was surely too much to be true. He couldn’t let himself believe something as absurd as Arthur reciprocating his feelings. Logic didn’t seem to be working on the tightening of his trousers, though.
“What do you think of Elaine?” Merlin asked, deflecting the attention again. He hadn’t forgotten his worry that Arthur was trying to seduce her, either, so there were ulterior motives. He needed to be sure, to rule her out.
“She’s great. Lovely. I hope she gets Lance.”
Arthur smiled, but the expression soured soon after.
“I worry about her.”
So, more like a Morgana than a possible wife. That was good. Very good.
“I worry, too. I don’t think she’ll get Lance, and I don’t want her heart broken. And I don’t think she’d take anyone else.”
Arthur smiled again, tapped Merlin’s ankle with his foot, and Merlin almost gasped.
“We can but try.”
They ate in silence for a while. Arthur wondered if Merlin could remove Elaine’s curse, if he would risk being caught to help her. But Arthur couldn’t ask - that would mean admitting that he knew. He’d never do that.
Arthur had had his suspicions. There were always poorly affixed light fittings and rotten branches around him when it mattered. Ever since Merlin came. At first he didn’t think anything of it, but Arthur wasn’t that stupid. He suspected a sorcerer, but didn’t know who. Merlin had been on the list of suspects of course, what with Lancelot’s forged papers, and Gwen’s father, and how Merlin had had the stamina to fight through a magical poison. But it was Ealdor that had all but proven it. And a fight with some bandits, when Arthur had turned to see Merlin’s eyes, golden and shining and really quite hot, that had clinched it.
Arthur had really meant to confront him about it. Of course he had. It was just that, every time he saw those eyes glow, he couldn’t help but think that he was witnessing something personal. Private. Like he was watching Merlin undress through a crack in the door.
There was a twinge, too, of something darker, that Arthur didn’t want to admit to. When he was being honest with himself, he suspected that it was betrayal. He wanted Merlin to tell him, but he understood why Merlin felt he could not. Still, he was hurt by the lack of trust. He would never let Merlin be hurt. Merlin meant too much.
If Merlin wanted to tell him, he would. Arthur would just have to wait for then.
While Arthur was having these terribly important thoughts, Merlin only wondered why Arthur was being touchy-feely (well, for Arthur) and whether Elaine was right, and had said something to him. Or maybe this was just a particularly nice phase. One that involved engaging in almost-footsie. Right.
Arthur’s foot touched Merlin’s again, and then his toes were rubbing circles into Merlin’s ankle through his boot. Merlin took another bite, waiting for it to stop, but it didn’t.
“Erm, Arthur? What are you doing?”
“Oh! Sorry, I- I can stop?”
He made to withdraw his foot, but Merlin’s chased after it.
“No, no it’s fine. It’s nice.”
“Oh,” Arthur said, and his smile was breathtaking.
oOo
Morgana watches the woman die a thousand times. Sometimes death’s a shock - she falls into the river, drowns, her lovely hair floating out in a halo around her, looking oddly at peace. Sometimes she faces it down, sword in hand. Sometimes she meets it, resigned, lets it take her. Sometimes she is incredibly brave, gives herself over to it. Sometimes she takes as many of the bastards as she can with her.
Lost within those visions are the ones where the woman dies old, in the arms of those she loves. Morgana doesn’t think that’s very likely.
That thought shouldn’t upset her as much as it does.
When Morgana woke up, she felt the cold tears on her face, refused to wonder why.
oOo
Training went badly, the next day. Gwaine got into some argument with Percival; nothing especially important, Arthur thought. He ignored them, like he usually did, left them to solve it between themselves. They both left the field early, and Arthur didn’t complain, just kept on sparring with Lancelot. Lance was on good form, he and Arthur evenly matched, and Arthur enjoyed it. The thrill of actually being in danger for once.
When they were too tired to continue, each having landed an equal number of hits and seeing no way for one of them to pull ahead, Arthur and Lance leant against the railing and watched Elaine and Leon fight. Elaine was vicious, unrelenting, and Leon gave as good as he had back. He was stronger, but she was faster, ducking under his blows and returning them full force. To begin with, Leon had gone easy on her, but now he swung his sword with his whole weight. They’d all been surprised that Elaine was a match for a knight.
Lance sighed, his eyes never leaving the pair.
“I wish I could love her. But I can’t.”
Arthur didn’t know what to say to that. He only watched as Elaine’s footwork had Leon tripping over himself, overbalancing, and ending up seated on the ground. She held the point of her sword to his neck, and smiled.
“Do you yield?” she asked.
“Yes,” Leon replied. He was slightly breathless, from the exertion of the fight presumably. But Arthur watched as Elaine held her hand out to pull Leon upright. He recognised the look on Leon’s face, having spent years trying to banish it from his own, and smiled. He’d tell Elaine about that later.
“Maybe, Lance, you don’t have to.” Lance smiled, and looked at Arthur.
“You think?”
“Oh, he likes her alright.”
With that, Arthur left for the armoury.
Merlin sat between Gwaine and Percival, a look of intense concentration on his face. Arthur could nearly have laughed at it.
“So, let me get this straight. Perce, you think Gwaine purposely tripped you.”
“And humiliated me in the process!”
“And Gwaine, you say your feet were nowhere near Perce.”
Gwaine simply nodded.
“Has it occurred to either of you that it might have been an accident?”
Gwaine and Percival looked at each other.
“Oh.”
“So maybe, next time, before you come to blows about it, think?”
Merlin laughed, ruffled Gwaine’s hair, and got up.
“Arthur’s probably done by now, I’d better go.”
Arthur chose that moment as his cue to step out of the shadows.
“That I am. And this armour needs unbuckling, Merlin.”
Arthur didn’t see the look that Merlin gave Gwaine, but he was sure it wasn’t in his favour.
oOo
That evening, Elaine was late. Merlin was quiet, just waiting for Arthur to say something, do something, maybe invite him to stay again. That would be nice.
But Arthur couldn’t. He had things to say to Elaine. Besides, he wasn’t sure where to go from where they reached last night. Well, he knew where he wanted to go, but not how to get there, much less how to tell if it was what Merlin wanted too. He’d never courted anyone properly, let alone someone as close to him, and as male, as Merlin. Didn’t stop him flirting, though.
“You’re really good at that, you know.”
“At what?” Merlin asked, turning to him, genuinely puzzled.
“I saw you in the armoury, with your King Solomon act.”
“Oh, that.” Merlin laughed.
“I was impressed,” Arthur said, moving closer. Merlin half expected Arthur to kiss him. Fully longed for it.
“Were you?”
“Yeah. Never thought someone as dim as you could work even a situation as simple as that out.”
And then he had to go and ruin it. Oh, Arthur could have kicked himself sometimes.
“Well, I never expected similar from you, and oh look, King Prat is actually doing a good job at being King.”
The compliment took the air from Arthur’s lungs, though he wasn’t sure why since he’d heard similar from so many others. So it was lucky that Elaine decided to knock at that precise moment.
“Sorry I’m so late, Arthur, just having this chat with Lance and the time flew!”
Merlin took that opportunity to slip out, and as much as Arthur wanted to grab him and force him to stay, he didn’t know what to say. So he let Merlin go.
“It’s alright, Elaine, do you want to see the map?”
He led her over, already knowing the answer, guided her fingers, showing her Camelot, Astolat, and where Linet, Gareth and Galahad would be.
“So, how are things?” she asked, squeezing Arthur’s hand before they pulled apart.
“I don’t know. I think it’s going well, and then one of us ruins it.”
Elaine laughed a little.
“Alright, it’s mainly me.”
“Just give it some time, Arthur. You both need a while to get used to it, yeah? Actually being openly nice?”
Arthur still looked a little wounded.
“I promise, Arthur, unless you’re even more of a dick than usual, you’ll be kissing him at Midsummer. Alright?”
For once, Arthur allowed himself to be comforted. Besides, the thoughts of Midsummer reminded him of what he was supposed to be talking to Elaine about. He smiled a little.
“You know, I think Leon likes you.”
“Leon?” she laughed, “Don’t be silly.”
“No, really! He does.”
Elaine just laughed again.
“What would he want with me? I’m cursed, worthless.”
Arthur took a step over to her, found her hand with his, and held it tightly.
“You’re brave, skilled, funny, kind-”
“And I’m damaged goods, I’m second hand. If he knew that, if any of them knew that, I doubt I’d get a second look.”
Arthur recoiled a little, hurt.
“You think I train my knights to think like that?”
Elaine smiled, took his hand again.
“No, Arthur. It’s just how the world works, and I think you’d change it if you could. The fact is, no man with any sense would take on another’s child. If they did, they’d get so much ridicule… I couldn’t ask anyone to do that for me, Arthur. It would be wrong of me.”
“What if you didn’t have to ask?”
“I wouldn’t take it.”
She let go of Arthur’s hand, let his fingers slide from hers.
“I’m sorry, Arthur. I know you want everything to be happy and right, but sometimes… sometimes we have to face the consequences of our actions. I got pregnant. Now I have to live with that.”
She turned away, only to spin back and pull Arthur into a quick hug.
“Thank you, though.”
oOo
Midsummer was only a week away. It always crept up on Arthur, though he could feel it in the stifling heat, could see it through the heat haze if he ever thought to look. But each year, he forgot. It was only when the kitchens were asking him what he wanted for the feast and the bonfire was beginning to be assembled on the flat strip of grass outside the castle walls that it sank in; Midsummer. Half a year gone, and all downhill to winter.
It was worth it though, for Midsummer night. There was feasting, or a few hours of drinking before the bonfire, in which time the servants would have their own party. And then dancing, around the fire. At the end of the night, you were supposed to take hold of your partner from the first dance, and kiss them. Arthur had never worked out why, but the tradition was entertaining enough. He usually sat out of the first dance, not wanting to show favour. Or to end up dancing with Morgana, when she was still around. He’d never really wanted to kiss her, for all he admired her beauty. She was too much like a sister, and now. Now, he’d give anything to have her back again, even if it meant having to kiss her. But it wasn’t to be.
The castle was filled with wildflowers, and Arthur let the sight drag his mind away from Morgana, moving it to happier things, hopeful plans. Usually he’d get Merlin to do something like this for him, but it would sort of ruin the surprise, so he got Elaine to cover for him at training and gave Leon the instructions to send out the day’s patrol. He took an old cloak from the depths of his wardrobe, wrapped it around himself and snuck through the lower town, out into the woods.
Arthur supposed that the wildflowers he picked might not have been perfect. He didn’t know anything about colour matching, or the meaning of plants or anything, but he doubted it mattered. Merlin wouldn’t know anything about that either. He bound the flowers with a ribbon, appraising them in his chambers. They looked a little scraggly, a little unloved, so he preened, rearranged them until they looked acceptable. He added a note, in a cursive script he hadn’t used since his childhood days, suitably unrecognisable as his handwriting.
No one was in when he let himself into Gaius’ quarters, thankfully, and he laid the flowers on Merlin’s bed. Before he left he was unable to resist at least piling the clothes on the floor into the corner, so there was a little space to move. Then he went to spend the rest of the day looking very ill on his bed, giving evidence to his lies.
When Merlin found the flowers, he didn’t recognise the handwriting on the note. The flowers weren’t neat enough for Lance, were too subtle for Gwaine. Merlin wondered, and couldn’t let himself hope.
Part Three
Title: Truth and Legend
Author:
weepingwillow9
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, or this is what would happen
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Lance, Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, Elaine (OC), Linet (OC), Gareth (OC), Galahad (OC), Mordred, Gaius
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin/Lance/Gwaine, Morgana/Elaine, Lance/Elaine
Warnings: Sex, battles, attempted suicide, character death
Spoilers: This starts off sometime after Arthur's Coronation (Series Four Episode Three) but minus the events of Series Four Episodes One and Two - so Lancelot is still around. I like to think that the Cailleach became the sacrifice, anyway...
Rating: NC-17
Length: 44198
Summary: When the Lady Elaine arrives at Camelot, she sets off a chain of events that will change the Kingdom forever
Part One
“Arthur?”
“Merlin? Didn’t I just send you away?”
“You did, but Elaine needs a word, and I doubt she’d come if I weren’t dragging her.”
It wasn’t quite true. Merlin didn’t have to drag Elaine, just grip her hand back as hard as she was holding his. But she wouldn’t have come on her own, so it was accurate enough to suffice.
“You can come in, then.”
Arthur was sitting at his desk, rolling up the parchment that he was reading. He gestured Merlin over to the table, and he helped Elaine to sit.
“Do you want me to stay?” Merlin asked, hand on her shoulder.
“No, you’re busy. I’ll find you later, fill you in.”
Her smile was a little strained, but at least it was there. Her head turned as if to watch Merlin out of the door, but twisted back again at the sound of Arthur drawing up a chair.
“So, Elaine. How can I help you?”
She bit her lip, indecision weighing heavy on her. Then she sighed. Since Arthur knew there was a problem he wouldn’t settle without her saying something. It may as well be the truth.
“I have a son,” she blurted, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth.
There was a pressure on her fingers, tugging them away.
“Tell me what happened.”
And then it all came out. How she met Lance, how they fell in love, how he left just before she could tell him she was pregnant. The curse, the worries, and then the coming to Camelot to find Lance.
“But I miss Galahad. I can’t bear to be without him. I was wondering, if-”
And then her words cut off, because she couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer.
Arthur stayed silent for a while, still holding her hand, not quite sure what to do with it, or her. He didn’t do hugs, but if he did, well. She’d have been thoroughly hugged.
“If you want to bring him here, I wouldn’t object. That is, if you’re going to tell Lancelot?” She shook her head, gripping onto his hand, “Or try to keep Galahad secret? I could find you more extensive rooms, further from the knights.”
Her hold tightened again, and Arthur squeezed back, briefly, trying not to wince.
“You would do that? Arthur, I- Thank you.”
“It’s alright, Elaine. I- I think we’re going to get along, and I want to help. Besides, you did help to protect my kingdom, and- and Merlin.”
At the mention of Merlin’s name, Elaine’s slight smile grew into something a little more calculating, but genuine all the same.
“So, Arthur,” she said, “Tell me why my protection of Merlin matters so much to you.”
“Oh, you know. A good servant is hard to come by.”
He tried to laugh it off, but Elaine just frowned.
“Don’t you dare, Arthur Pendragon. Not after I told you all my secrets.”
He sighed, let his head lower, his face fall. He was vulnerable in that moment, defences down, and Elaine could have ripped him apart. But she didn’t want to. She just felt the sagging, through his lax grip, and followed his sigh as he exhaled.
“Arthur?” she prompted, and then it was like he couldn’t stop.
“I love him, have done probably since he stood up to me that first day. But he’s never shown any sign, and God, I was a complete arse to him, trying to push him away and stop whatever the hell this is, because I can’t, Elaine.”
“Why not?” she all but whispered.
“Because he’s a servant, and I’m the King, and if I said anything and he said yes, I’d never know if it was what he wanted or what he was giving me because I wanted it. Or worse still, he’d say no, and I don’t know if I could cope with seeing him after that. But I couldn’t get rid of him, he means too much by far. If he wanted this, me, surely he’d have given me some sort of sign.”
“Maybe he’s scared too. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s waiting on some sort of sign from you. Or maybe he’s been trying to show you, but because it’s you two you can’t understand each other.”
Arthur shook his head, slowly, letting go of Elaine’s hand to run his fingers through his hair.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m the King, I have more important things to be thinking about. I don’t need to be worrying about Merlin of all things every waking moment.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, and then she got up, feeling her way around the table to him, until she could reach her arms around him and hug him.
“You know what, I think Camelot is suffering because of this.”
“What do you mean?” His head snapped upright, and Elaine made sure to temper her voice with a little playfulness when she next spoke.
“I mean that you clearly don’t have your whole mind on the affairs of the land. So, basically, you and Merlin need to work out this thing between you.”
“Elaine-” he began, and there was a warning in his tone, but she just continued, finding his mouth and pressing her hand over it to shut him up.
“You start showing him you care. I don’t mind how. But if you don’t, Arthur, I swear I will find a way to lock you two in the same room until you’ve talked this through. Because I’m pretty sure he cares about you, and you’re only hurting each other like this. It’s not fair on either of you.”
Arthur made a sound like he was about to refuse, and then nodded.
“Alright. If you’re sure. You are sure, aren’t you, Elaine?”
She smiled, dropping her hand to his shoulder.
“I have never been surer of anything in my life.”
oOo
Later that afternoon, with Elaine sitting on her bed sharpening her sword, there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” she called, pausing in her work.
“It’s Gwen, my Lady, the King sent me?”
“Come in!” Elaine sheathed the sword, then turned in the direction of the door.
“What is it, Gwen?” she asked.
“Arthur says he’s readied your new rooms.”
“That was… fast,” Elaine said, a grin slowly starting to form on her face.
“It’s very good of him, isn’t it, letting you stay here for the foreseeable future and all of that,” and oh, that was not good at all, the slightly wistful sound to Gwen’s voice. Elaine hoped it didn’t mean what she thought it did, or if it did, that this was only some sort of passing infatuation. Arthur had confessed it to her himself; it was Merlin he loved, not Gwen.
“He’s a good man,” Elaine replied, trying to remain neutral, “A good King, and a good friend.”
Gwen just smiled, with an almost shy sound, half giggle, half sigh.
“Well, Arthur wanted me to show you to the rooms. They’re near to his, and he’s- He’s done something really lovely.”
When Gwen guided Elaine’s hand over the doorhandle, Elaine knew exactly what Gwen meant. The handle was made of intricately woven metal, different to every other door in the castle, so Elaine could find it herself. It was so thoughtful; so, well, lovely that Elaine had to see him.
“Where is he?” she asked, “Can you take me to him?”
“Actually, his rooms are just next door.”
Elaine gasped at the gesture of favour, and let Gwen lead her along the corridor.
“Arthur Pendragon, where are you?” It was a demand, and Arthur stood up, feeling guilty for some reason he couldn’t quite comprehend.
“Here.”
And then the breath was taken from him as Elaine flung her arms around him.
“Come here, you beautiful man!”
“Erm, I’m here?”
Elaine just laughed, kissed his cheek.
“Thank you! It’s wonderful!”
“The rooms?”
“Oh, I haven’t been inside. The door handle!”
Then the contact was gone, and Elaine was fleeing the rooms, laughing a little. And Arthur was left wondering, yet again, what to make of her.
oOo
She, Gwen, Gareth and Linet spent the rest of the afternoon moving Elaine’s possessions into the new rooms. When Merlin got wind of the move, he came to join them, dragging Gwaine along with him. Gwaine and Gareth got on immediately, trying to outdo each other lifting Elaine’s baggage, though there was little enough of it. They joked together, loudly, effectively quashing all other conversation.
It was only when all Elaine and Linet’s possessions were moved that Merlin had a chance to realise what the rooms meant. They were changed, the hangings on the bed different, the screen new, a servant’s pallet, a cradle at the foot of the bed that they’d convinced Gwaine was just there for storage. But it was still the same space - Morgana’s rooms.
Merlin couldn’t quite work out what that meant, if anything. Knowing Arthur, he probably just used the rooms out of practicality. They were spacious enough for a mother and child, and her servant. But subconsciously, there would be something else. Had Arthur admitted that Morgana was gone forever, or was this temporary? Or was Elaine a Morgana replacement? Or none of that?
oOo
That evening, they made their plans. Linet and Gareth were to go to Astolat, taking with them a letter written and signed by Arthur, as proof of his complicity. In only a few days’ time, Elaine would have her son again.
She was back at training the next day. The knights progressed well; not as good as her, of course, but that was only to be expected. She was blinded constantly, they relied on their sight the rest of the time. She taught them the nuances of sound, the ways to tell when a man was tiring or feinting from his footfall. She taught them on different surfaces, different spaces, teaching them to make out the echoes and gauge distances.
When she tried to teach Lance directly, he still shied from her.
“I think I know what your problem is,” Merlin told him, walking beside Lance as they made for the armoury, “It’s not that Elaine’s back in your life again, it’s that she’s so nice to you.”
As they walked, their shoulders swayed into each other. Merlin had only to lean a little, and he nudged Lance.
He didn’t reply, just looked thoughtful.
“I’ve seen your guilty looks. You should talk to her. Apologise.”
At that, Lance’s face lit up.
“Yes. I should, shouldn’t I? I haven’t been very honourable in my treatment of her.”
And there he was, Lance the knight, ever brave, ever chivalrous.
“Elaine!” he called, and with that was gone.
“Elaine, I need to speak with you.”
“Of course, Lance,” she said with a smile, “But I muddied my sword, I need to see to it in the armoury. Can it wait a few minutes?”
“Oh, it won’t be long, we can talk while you work.”
Elaine’s face fell, just a little. She shouldn’t have hoped.
“Of course.” Her voice was dead, but Lance was far too busy arranging his wording to notice.
“I wanted to apologise, for leaving you. And for avoiding you.”
“Oh, Lance, I’ve long forgiven you for both.” She laid a hand on his arm, squeezed just slightly, and he watched it warily.
“So, how’ve you been? What brings you to Camelot?”
Letting go of Lance’s arm, she took a seat in the armoury, scrabbled for a cloth until Lance passed her one, and started cleaning the sword. Mentally removing each reference to their child in her story.
“Well, after all your tales, I had to see for myself. Not see, because of the curse, but you know what I mean.” Her voice dropped, and she was a little wistful. “You always knew what I meant.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you, Elaine. I’ve changed since we last met.”
“So have I.”
He could see it, in the angle of her chin, the way she held herself. She was stronger, harder. Something had happened, but he couldn’t ask. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression, and there was so much between them. He doubted they could truly be friends again, knew they could never be lovers. He just didn’t feel the same way.
Maybe if he could see her eyes, bright blue, like Merlin’s and like Arthur’s, but even then. He’d loved her, but he hadn’t been in love with her.
There was a defiance in her stance, daring him to break the silence. He’d always liked that about her. But it was harsher now, turned on him rather than her parents, or the other knights.
“I should’ve told you why I left,” he said, guilt still welling up within him.
“You could tell me now?” Yes, she was as frightened as he, hesitant, not sure whether she wanted to hear. To have her hopes dashed this early, it would be terrible. He shut his eyes, because it would be hard enough to admit to without having to watch her.
“I left because what we had wasn’t real. I’m glad I realised that in time. We were just two people searching for something, kindred spirits. And we thought that what we were looking for was each other, but it wasn’t. I loved you, but not enough to spend the rest of my life with you. And I couldn’t condemn you to a life like that. And I was a coward, I couldn’t bear to hurt you, so I left.”
Elaine had stilled, head turned down.
“Elaine?”
He laid a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, batting him away.
“I- I think you ought to go.”
Her voice was close to breaking, he could tell. But he knew her. She’d never admit defeat, so he wouldn’t point it out to her. He’d leave her, quickly, find her someone to care for her. And then he could go to nurse his guilt, because clearly she had felt more than he had.
Looking back, she’d always admitted to more than him. The I love yous in the middle of the night had begun with her, not him. And it wasn’t because she was braver, like he had thought, but because she had believed more. Oh, he’d been stupid.
Merlin was hurrying down the corridor, obviously back with an errand from Arthur, so Lance called out to him.
“It’s Elaine. In the armoury. She needs someone, I’ve been stupid, and tactless, and I’ve hurt her again.”
Merlin pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as they passed.
“You told her the truth?” Lance nodded, “Then, you’ve done the right thing.”
Merlin took her in his arms and held her there, until she straightened and smiled again.
“I’ll just have to make him love me this time round.”
And again, Merlin couldn’t quite bring himself to knock down her hopes.
oOo
Every evening, Elaine knocked on Arthur’s door. She’d make sure to do it when Merlin was there, too, so she could encourage Arthur in his new attempts at flirtation. The real reason for the visits was Arthur’s map. She’d trace Linet and Gareth’s progress, counting down the days until she had her son in her arms again.
The first night went better than expected.
Elaine’s fingers lingered over the surface of the map like a caress, one on Astolat and her son, the other guided by Arthur from Camelot to where Gareth and Linet should have reached.
“That’s one day’s ride,” he told her, then fell silent.
“Do you have anything else for me to do, sire?” Merlin asked.
“No, that’s it for tonight, I think-”
Elaine just had to kick him. To Arthur’s merit, he didn’t cry out at all. Just winced a little.
“Arthur, are you alright?” Merlin hurried over, then stopped still, hovering a little too close to Arthur for his wellbeing. Elaine had to bite her lip to stop herself laughing.
“I think I pulled something in training today,” Arthur lied, and Elaine took the opportunity to grin over Merlin’s shoulder and mouth flirt, you bastard. Arthur couldn’t lip read, but he did get the general idea.
“Actually, it’s a spot I can’t quite reach, could you- I mean, if it isn’t too much trouble- There’s some ointment in the cupboard, I need-”
Merlin stared at Arthur. He’d seen Arthur facing certain death, and playful, and pretty much everything in between. But incoherent was new. Arthur blushed under the scrutiny, and while that was a sight that Merlin could look at forever he decided to save Arthur.
“I could apply it, if you like?”
Arthur merely gave him a curt nod, pulled off his shirt, and sat on the bed. Merlin grabbed the jar, scooped out a decent amount and started to rub it in. And this was a very bad idea. Arthur couldn’t quite suppress the quiet moans he let out, just from Merlin’s fingers on his shoulder. He was sure Merlin was going to notice something.
But Merlin was still convinced that Arthur was in pain, and wrote the sounds off as being due to that.
“Is this alright, Arthur?” he asked, voice lower than the occasion called for. Arthur thought he could just about float. “Does it hurt?”
“It feels… good.”
As Elaine picked her way out, she shot Arthur a smirk.
The second night, Arthur attempted a compliment.
He was guiding Elaine’s fingers over the map again, now closer to Astolat than to Camelot. The door opened, Merlin struggling in with some firewood. Elaine could hear his feet dragging, his steps heavy, falling against furniture. She shoved Arthur away from her and towards Merlin.
He gave her a quick questioning look, but Elaine just shooed him away.
The next thing Merlin knew, Arthur’s hands were next to his on the handle of the firewood bucket.
“Let me help you with that.”
If Arthur hadn’t already taken most of the weight, Merlin would have dropped the bucket in shock. Together they manoeuvred it towards the fire, and Merlin knelt to build up the fire. Arthur just leant back against the bedpost and admired the view of Merlin’s arse.
Elaine smacked his arm.
“Merlin… is that a new neckerchief?”
His head turned to face Arthur, slowly.
“No?”
“Oh. Well, it,” he gestured wildly, “Suits you.”
Elaine wished she could take the blindfold off. She could practically hear the click when Merlin’s jaw dropped.
“Thank you, Arthur,” he said, turning back to the fireplace.
Elaine pressed a delighted kiss to Arthur’s cheek on the way out.
The third day went better than even Elaine could have planned out.
“They should be in Astolat by now,” Arthur told her, though she already knew that.
“I saw you in Council today,” Merlin said.
It had been a hard day, filled with meetings with people who all knew their own field, but had come up with differing opinions on the problems Camelot faced. Camelot needed to strengthen certain borders, but that cost money, money that Arthur refused to raise taxes to find. Add to that problem the prioritisation of certain borders, and the risk of incensing conflict; Arthur had left with his head pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. Instead, he humoured Merlin and nodded. When his head fell he wondered if he might be allowed to keep it against his chest. It was so comfortable there, so heavy to lift. But Elaine would kill him if he fell asleep when he should be showing Merlin he cared.
“You were brilliant.”
There was no hint of sarcasm, just sheer admiration.
“I was?”
“You know you were, you arrogant prat.”
His voice was teasing, which Arthur knew and understood. As usual, Merlin knew exactly what Arthur needed - he was feeling less stressed already.
“Merlin, I don’t analyse my performance while I work. I do have more important things to be concentrating on.”
“Oh? I thought your ego was the most important thing in Camelot?”
Arthur laughed, because the most important thing in Camelot was standing right in front of him. His most important thing in Camelot, anyway.
“I happen to take pride in protecting the people of Camelot, who are the most important thing. That’s my job. I actually do the work I’m expected to, unlike some people I know.”
He took a few steps towards Merlin. Merlin’s breath caught, but Arthur didn’t notice. Elaine did, creeping behind Arthur and out of the door, in case she was in the way.
“You couldn’t survive a day without me.”
“Probably not,” Arthur admitted, and Merlin could almost think he heard something else in that voice. But not quite.
Merlin cleared his throat. He’d been far too close to doing something entirely inappropriate. Or admitting to something that Arthur would only laugh at him for.
“I’d best go, Arthur. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He ducked out of the door, quickly, leaving Arthur hurt and gaping.
oOo
Elaine always woke early, so it wouldn’t be hard to catch Merlin on the walk of shame back to Gaius’ rooms. But apparently that wasn’t to be. She hovered by her door, listening for Merlin’s recognisable footsteps, but there was nothing. An hour after dawn, she heard the sound she’d been listening for, but they were headed in the wrong direction entirely.
With a sinking feeling, she waited for Merlin to pass, knowing that somehow between them he and Arthur had ruined a very promising situation.
Then she picked up her book, and started off for Lancelot’s room.
Things were stilted between Merlin and Arthur that morning, their conversation limited to the purely functional. When Arthur announced that he would go to organise a patrol, Merlin was relieved. He didn’t turn his head as Arthur left, though Arthur was waiting for it.
oOo
There was a knock on Lance’s door, and he started. He recognised the knock, but it wasn’t one of the knights’, or Merlin’s. With it came feelings of something wonderful and hidden, but he couldn’t quite put a face to the pattern of taps.
“Lancelot?” Elaine called, and then the memories came flooding back, of the promises to visit each other’s bed, her quiet knock, not wanting to wake anyone other than him. Lance pulling her into his bed, cold from the corridors and the brief run across the battlements.
He got up, hurriedly, opening the door for her. He wondered what this was; a peace offering perhaps, or maybe just a refusal to believe that he didn’t love her.
“Elaine, come in.” Guiding her to sit on the chair, he let himself remember just what attracted him to Elaine in the first place. She really was beautiful, and as she sat she held herself with all the grace of the princess she was. Elaine took a breath, straightened her back, gripped onto her book. This was a practiced speech, and he wouldn’t interrupt her. He remembered well the consequences of interrupting Elaine.
“I won’t waste either of our time, Lance, I’ll say what I’ve come for. I’ll admit I was upset by what you said, but I understand why you left, and I will not hate you for it. Though I do wish you’d spoken to me, I’ve missed you.”
She took another deep breath, shuffling the book in her hands, playing with the weight of it.
“I’d like to still be friends, if we can’t be anything more. I- With the blindfold, I can’t see to read, and I remember how you loved to tell me stories. You had - have - a wonderful reading voice, Lance, and I wondered if you might read to me? It gets quite boring around the castle when everyone’s so busy.”
He was suspicious when she said that. She was planning something, he knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny her a little thing like reading. Lance still cared about Elaine; he didn’t want to lose her as a friend over something trivial.
“Sure, I’m free now if that’s alright with you.”
She handed him the book with a smile. One that would once have melted his heart.
“That sounds perfect.”
And he read, a poem about knights and fair ladies and fearsome beasts, and Elaine drank the whole thing in, settling down into the chair, relaxing into his voice, soothed by it. Between sentences he would glance up at her, watching as her edges smoothed, until the Elaine of right now and the Elaine of before overlapped and merged into one, where he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
oOo
The hovel was cold, shaded from the sun by the very rocks that guarded it. Moss covered, they stood a silent sentinel. Sometimes Morgana would lean against them, letting their cool seep into her bones, slowing herself until she felt them breathe with her. But now, she had more important things on her mind.
The servant she had paid off had sent word that her chambers were once more in use, and Morgana was curious.
She was always wary of her foresight. Sometimes it showed the truth, but often it led astray. It was hard to channel, and often clouded. But she had to see.
Morgana knew she was never going back, so she didn’t understand it at all. Her old rooms should mean nothing to her, and yet, a spark of something disturbed her heart at the thought that someone else was in them. But it couldn’t be regret, and it couldn’t be jealousy, because who would want to be around King Arthur?
She refused to think of it as anything more than nostalgia, but still she filled the scrying bowl with water, passed her hands over the surface, spoke the words.
It is the present moment, and there is a woman in the chambers, with her servant. The conversation cannot be heard, but it is of no importance. The woman’s back is visible, as she faces the window. She’s slim, in a deep purple dress, strangely with an armour plate covering her torso, and a sword hanging from her hip.
She turns, and her front is protected by a breastplate. It’s quite tight to her body, presumably to prevent weapons slipping up under it, and at the sight something wells up within Morgana. Arthur forbade her from fighting, and now he plays host to a woman who is clearly dressed for just that.
When the haze of anger fades, Morgana notices the blindfold. The cloth is embroidered, rich and beautiful, but it’s intriguing.
She needs to see more of this woman.
Morgana doesn’t go forwards very far in time. The next event that comes to her has the woman in bed, in just a night dress, but it’s not in Morgana’s rooms. It’s dark, and Morgana’s eyes take a while to get used to the lack of light. When they do, she recognises her own home, though much tidier.
The woman rolls over, sits up and smiles. Morgana is not a good lipreader, but she’s sure the woman says her name.
She doesn’t want to watch any more, but she has no choice. Once this vision has been let in, the flood gates are open.
The woman, smiling.
With a child on her hip, scowling and shouting at someone.
Protective, holding the child close to her chest.
Crying, her tears wetting the blindfold, soaking it dark.
Her eyes freed and clear, triumphant, bloodied sword in her hand, sky grey above her. Then, from nowhere, a sword. And her blood everywhere, her eyes widening in shock, mouth opening into a silent cry. She has enough strength left to kill the man who hurt her, but after that she drops her sword, sinks to the ground, and her eyes close…
Morgana took a step back from the bowl, holding her hands over her eyes in a futile attempt to un-See. But there was no return.
She’d never Seen that clearly for anyone but Arthur. Strange for a woman she had never met. But it would appear that they had a destiny.
Though this woman was on Arthur’s side, which couldn’t be right. Morgana consoled herself with the fact that it was only a possible future, and tried to forget what she had Seen.
Late at night, she woke with the memory of a woman’s lips under hers, soft but firm flesh under her fingers. And she didn’t know if it was a vision or just her imagination.
oOo
Elaine found Arthur that evening. Merlin wasn’t around. She got the distinct feeling they were avoiding each other.
“So,” she said, turned towards Arthur, taut and bursting with intent, “What happened after I left?”
She didn’t need to be in Arthur’s rooms. Linet and Gareth would have reached Astolat by now, would not be setting out until the morning. There was no movement to trace. But she was worried.
“I was thinking, maybe we should send Lance out to the Western border on patrol, just to keep him out of the way while Galahad settles in.”
Elaine stepped over to him and slapped his arm.
“Arthur! What happened?”
“I thought it was going well. I thought he might let me kiss him. Then he left.”
He fell back onto the bed, lying out flat on his back.
“There, are you happy now? Have I been humiliated enough?”
“Oh, Arthur, sweetie,” she felt her way over to the bed, sitting next to his hip and smoothing his hair, “You don’t really think that’s what I want. You’ve helped me so much, in turn I only want you to be happy.”
Arthur Pendragon did not do hugs. Hugs were not needed around him. But he pulled Elaine down, and it was more, well. Just not a hug.
“He was probably just scared, Arthur. Scared you didn’t feel the same. Don’t avoid him, you’ve got to run after him. Show him. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, and Elaine pulled him back upright.
“So, what are you waiting for?”
He rolled his eyes, laughing a little.
“I’m going, Elaine. And tell me what you think about the patrol later.”
She let herself out, smiling, because Arthur was just ridiculous.
oOo
Arthur went to Gaius’ chambers, because helping him was usually what Merlin resorted to when he was hiding from Arthur. He opened the door, uninvited, and true to form Merlin was there, relabeling bottles.
“Merlin, I’ve barely seen you all day!”
False cheer, and he was sure Merlin noticed it. But it didn’t matter, they were in the same room and that was a start.
“Yeah, been helping Gaius.”
“I can see,” Arthur said, taking a few steps over and examining bottles.
“He’s been really busy.”
“You know, Merlin, anyone would think you were avoiding me.” He didn’t meet Merlin’s eye, didn’t quite risk seeing the confirmation. Because he wasn’t quite sure why, whether the very thought of Arthur and kissing disgusted Merlin, or whether what Elaine said was true.
Merlin didn’t speak. It was enough.
“It’s… quiet without you.”
Another silence, but this one broken by Merlin. He couldn’t bear it any longer.
“What are you trying to say, Arthur?”
Their eyes met, and Merlin almost thought he saw everything he’d ever wanted in Arthur’s gaze. Arthur almost thought he could show it all. Every last ounce of love. But eyes were never quite enough for what he felt for Merlin. Nowhere near.
Merlin looked down, breaking apart, trying desperately not to hope. He was too close, this was why he’d tried to get some distance, it would never, ever work.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Arthur said, and he sighed, and looked away. Merlin couldn’t understand the wistfulness in Arthur’s voice, unless he really meant the opposite. But this was Arthur, there was no way, no fucking way that he wanted Merlin.
“Still, you should come back with me.” A request, not an order. Arthur left, and Merlin followed.
It was a start.
oOo
“Merlin, are you listening?”
He knew that Elaine had been talking to him, but not what about. He had been so distracted, so busy with thoughts of Arthur to care at all.
Their evening of teasing, what had it meant? What did Arthur want?
“I was asking you what you thought of Arthur sending Lance away on patrol.”
Oh, that. Well, he didn’t want Lance to go. It was too dangerous, and he liked to have the men he loved near to him, where he could protect them. But he didn’t think that Elaine would take kindly to that train of thought, and the revelation about their relationship that went with it.
“It’s up to you, Elaine. You know Lance will be fine.” A lie, of course, even he didn’t, “so it’s really all your choice. If it would make things easier, get Arthur to send him away. If you’d rather he were around for you to flirt with, get Arthur to keep him here. Or get Arthur to do what he wants.”
Elaine brightened at that, and smiled.
“That’s it. I’ll get Arthur to choose.” Because she really didn’t know what she wanted; she needed some time with her son, but she needed Lance to love her. She would have to keep Galahad secret from more than just Lance, so his absence was not necessary.
“Can you tell him? Please, Merlin.”
A ploy to throw them together, again. She really was transparent.
Or maybe she just wasn’t trying to hide.
oOo
After training, Elaine went to Lance’s rooms with him. He’d promised her another poem, and he lived up to his promises.
It was strange, but her company didn’t bother him at all now. He quite liked it, actually; they’d briefly been friends before sleeping together. She was kind, and smart, and brave. They talked about training, about the knights, the threats from across different borders. Lance told Elaine stories, of Arthur and the rest of the knights now, because he had exhausted his own. Elaine even had tales to share. Few, but it was more than most women had.
Before Lance knew it, they were beginning to fall back into a pattern. Just, without the touching and the kissing and the sex. It was nice, but it worried him. Elaine clearly wanted something he could no longer give. She couldn’t be allowed to hope for it. He wouldn’t break her heart again.
oOo
That evening, Arthur pulled Elaine’s finger back over the map.
“It’ll be slower going back, with a child,” he told her, kindly, still holding her wrist.
Merlin walked in.
“I’ve got your dinner.”
“Still haven’t learnt to knock, I see.”
“If I’d knocked, your dinner would’ve got cold. And you don’t like cold dinner.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. It was like Elaine could feel it; she hit him.
“Is there enough for two?” Arthur asked.
Merlin’s eyes darted to Elaine, apprehensively. She wasn’t after Arthur… though, to be fair, that didn’t mean that Arthur wasn’t after her.
“I didn’t bring another plate, but there should be, sire.”
Merlin’s voice was so concerned that Elaine huffed, smiled at them both.
“Bye, Arthur.”
Merlin frowned.
“Don’t worry about the plate, Merlin. You can just eat from that.”
Arthur waved at the tureen, and Merlin’s brow furrowed yet further. Elaine must have put Arthur up to this. He wouldn’t think of that on his own, surely. But Elaine’s face was pleasantly surprised as she left, patting his shoulder reassuringly as she passed so maybe… maybe not.
Maybe Arthur- but no. Arthur might be being nice, but that didn’t mean that he had to like Merlin. At least not in that way.
“I don’t have another spoon,” he said.
“Well, call for one. I want some company, and you are not running away.” Arthur punctuated each word with a wave of his spoon as he sat down. When Merlin made no move, he cocked his head, and Merlin ran to the door, grabbing the next passing servant. Who happened to be Gwen.
“Not sure what’s got into Arthur,” he whispered, “But he wants another plate and a spoon. And he won’t let me leave for it.”
Gwen giggled.
“On it.”
“Sit, Merlin.” There was the edge of a plea to Arthur’s voice, something entirely new, and Merlin would have quite liked to listen to it forever. He sat, though, tucking himself into the table.
“How was your day?” Arthur asked.
“You should know. You’re the one who sent me off on all those errands.”
There was a silence, and Arthur played with his spoon against the plate.
“Yes, well. Humour me.”
Merlin looked at him, trying to work it out.
“Well, I sorted out your laundry, got talking to Meg there, she’s lovely, from the west coast. Then I ran a few errands for Gaius, swept and dusted your rooms, finished in time to watch you in training for a while, undressed you and sorted your bath, got you lunch. While you ate I chatted to Gwen for a while, then I cleared away, and-”
“Woah, Merlin, alright, you were busy, I get it.” Arthur’s eyes had glazed over, and he was still a bit distant.
“But I hadn’t even got to the part with the mucking out the stables!”
Arthur rolled his eyes.
“I’m sure there are servants who have a worse lot than you, Merlin.”
“Yes, well. You could do something about it.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they’d just get paid less if there were more to help.”
Merlin hadn’t thought of that, and he nodded.
There was a pause, and definitely something he should be saying to Arthur. But the words were new, and uncomfortable in the back of his mind. The silence was worse, though, so he tried them on his tongue.
“How- how was your day?”
Easier to say than he’d thought. He only tripped the once, and Arthur’s smile was reward enough. His knee rested gently against Merlin’s, and neither of them thought to move.
“It was difficult. It started well, with training as you know, but then… Council was terrible, I’m being pressured from so many directions, and I don’t know what will cave first. And then Leon brought up Morgana.”
Arthur didn’t need to say any more. The downwards tilt of his mouth admitted what Arthur couldn’t bring himself to say, that he wanted his sister back. But he could never allow that. Her every mention was like a repeat of the betrayal, in miniature, and Merlin just wanted to hold him and soothe all the pain away. Now was not the time. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a time, but it was too soon, and too uncertain.
There was a knock on the door, and Merlin jerked his knee away from Arthur’s, guiltily, at the intrusion. He went over to the door, opened it, took the spoon and plate from Gwen.
“Thanks. You’re an absolute star.”
She blushed a little, waved her goodbye.
“Oh, finally,” Arthur said, “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get to eat tonight.”
Merlin forced himself to laugh, ladling out portions of the stew for both him and Arthur. Arthur broke his bread in two and passed the larger half to Merlin. His heart swelled at the gesture. Maybe.
“What brought this on, Arthur?” he asked, because he felt like pushing his luck. Somehow he knew it’d be alright.
Arthur shrugged.
“Just wanted to talk to you, I suppose.”
Merlin nodded.
“What about?”
“Anything. What do you want to talk about?”
Merlin frowned.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who sprung this on me. You find a conversation topic.”
Arthur looked panicked for a moment, trying to think of something, anything.
“Midsummer soon.”
“Hmm.”
“You looking forward to it?”
“Mmhmmm.”
Arthur gave Merlin a sidelong look. He was busily eating as quickly as he could.
“Merlin. You are allowed to take breaks between bites. You know, to have a conversation.”
Merlin swallowed. Arthur watched his Adam’s apple, which was just gorgeous as it slipped down the column of his throat, snapping back up again.
“Oh. Right.”
He carried on shovelling his food. Arthur took his wrist.
“Merlin. Stop. Tell me about Midsummer.”
“I’ll be serving at the feast, so I won’t get to join in then, but there’ll be a party for the servants later, and that’ll be fun. I’m not a great dancer, but I’ll be drunk enough in the evening to get by, I suppose.”
“Don’t you dare fall into the bonfire,” Arthur teased, “Anyone you’re saving the first dance for?”
Merlin tried and failed to contain the blush.
“I’m not after any of the girls. What about you?” he asked, changing the subject, “Got your eye on anyone?”
“There is someone,” Arthur admitted, eyes boring into Merlin. He had to look away; he was flushing again. Arthur seemed so earnest, but it was surely too much to be true. He couldn’t let himself believe something as absurd as Arthur reciprocating his feelings. Logic didn’t seem to be working on the tightening of his trousers, though.
“What do you think of Elaine?” Merlin asked, deflecting the attention again. He hadn’t forgotten his worry that Arthur was trying to seduce her, either, so there were ulterior motives. He needed to be sure, to rule her out.
“She’s great. Lovely. I hope she gets Lance.”
Arthur smiled, but the expression soured soon after.
“I worry about her.”
So, more like a Morgana than a possible wife. That was good. Very good.
“I worry, too. I don’t think she’ll get Lance, and I don’t want her heart broken. And I don’t think she’d take anyone else.”
Arthur smiled again, tapped Merlin’s ankle with his foot, and Merlin almost gasped.
“We can but try.”
They ate in silence for a while. Arthur wondered if Merlin could remove Elaine’s curse, if he would risk being caught to help her. But Arthur couldn’t ask - that would mean admitting that he knew. He’d never do that.
Arthur had had his suspicions. There were always poorly affixed light fittings and rotten branches around him when it mattered. Ever since Merlin came. At first he didn’t think anything of it, but Arthur wasn’t that stupid. He suspected a sorcerer, but didn’t know who. Merlin had been on the list of suspects of course, what with Lancelot’s forged papers, and Gwen’s father, and how Merlin had had the stamina to fight through a magical poison. But it was Ealdor that had all but proven it. And a fight with some bandits, when Arthur had turned to see Merlin’s eyes, golden and shining and really quite hot, that had clinched it.
Arthur had really meant to confront him about it. Of course he had. It was just that, every time he saw those eyes glow, he couldn’t help but think that he was witnessing something personal. Private. Like he was watching Merlin undress through a crack in the door.
There was a twinge, too, of something darker, that Arthur didn’t want to admit to. When he was being honest with himself, he suspected that it was betrayal. He wanted Merlin to tell him, but he understood why Merlin felt he could not. Still, he was hurt by the lack of trust. He would never let Merlin be hurt. Merlin meant too much.
If Merlin wanted to tell him, he would. Arthur would just have to wait for then.
While Arthur was having these terribly important thoughts, Merlin only wondered why Arthur was being touchy-feely (well, for Arthur) and whether Elaine was right, and had said something to him. Or maybe this was just a particularly nice phase. One that involved engaging in almost-footsie. Right.
Arthur’s foot touched Merlin’s again, and then his toes were rubbing circles into Merlin’s ankle through his boot. Merlin took another bite, waiting for it to stop, but it didn’t.
“Erm, Arthur? What are you doing?”
“Oh! Sorry, I- I can stop?”
He made to withdraw his foot, but Merlin’s chased after it.
“No, no it’s fine. It’s nice.”
“Oh,” Arthur said, and his smile was breathtaking.
oOo
Morgana watches the woman die a thousand times. Sometimes death’s a shock - she falls into the river, drowns, her lovely hair floating out in a halo around her, looking oddly at peace. Sometimes she faces it down, sword in hand. Sometimes she meets it, resigned, lets it take her. Sometimes she is incredibly brave, gives herself over to it. Sometimes she takes as many of the bastards as she can with her.
Lost within those visions are the ones where the woman dies old, in the arms of those she loves. Morgana doesn’t think that’s very likely.
That thought shouldn’t upset her as much as it does.
When Morgana woke up, she felt the cold tears on her face, refused to wonder why.
oOo
Training went badly, the next day. Gwaine got into some argument with Percival; nothing especially important, Arthur thought. He ignored them, like he usually did, left them to solve it between themselves. They both left the field early, and Arthur didn’t complain, just kept on sparring with Lancelot. Lance was on good form, he and Arthur evenly matched, and Arthur enjoyed it. The thrill of actually being in danger for once.
When they were too tired to continue, each having landed an equal number of hits and seeing no way for one of them to pull ahead, Arthur and Lance leant against the railing and watched Elaine and Leon fight. Elaine was vicious, unrelenting, and Leon gave as good as he had back. He was stronger, but she was faster, ducking under his blows and returning them full force. To begin with, Leon had gone easy on her, but now he swung his sword with his whole weight. They’d all been surprised that Elaine was a match for a knight.
Lance sighed, his eyes never leaving the pair.
“I wish I could love her. But I can’t.”
Arthur didn’t know what to say to that. He only watched as Elaine’s footwork had Leon tripping over himself, overbalancing, and ending up seated on the ground. She held the point of her sword to his neck, and smiled.
“Do you yield?” she asked.
“Yes,” Leon replied. He was slightly breathless, from the exertion of the fight presumably. But Arthur watched as Elaine held her hand out to pull Leon upright. He recognised the look on Leon’s face, having spent years trying to banish it from his own, and smiled. He’d tell Elaine about that later.
“Maybe, Lance, you don’t have to.” Lance smiled, and looked at Arthur.
“You think?”
“Oh, he likes her alright.”
With that, Arthur left for the armoury.
Merlin sat between Gwaine and Percival, a look of intense concentration on his face. Arthur could nearly have laughed at it.
“So, let me get this straight. Perce, you think Gwaine purposely tripped you.”
“And humiliated me in the process!”
“And Gwaine, you say your feet were nowhere near Perce.”
Gwaine simply nodded.
“Has it occurred to either of you that it might have been an accident?”
Gwaine and Percival looked at each other.
“Oh.”
“So maybe, next time, before you come to blows about it, think?”
Merlin laughed, ruffled Gwaine’s hair, and got up.
“Arthur’s probably done by now, I’d better go.”
Arthur chose that moment as his cue to step out of the shadows.
“That I am. And this armour needs unbuckling, Merlin.”
Arthur didn’t see the look that Merlin gave Gwaine, but he was sure it wasn’t in his favour.
oOo
That evening, Elaine was late. Merlin was quiet, just waiting for Arthur to say something, do something, maybe invite him to stay again. That would be nice.
But Arthur couldn’t. He had things to say to Elaine. Besides, he wasn’t sure where to go from where they reached last night. Well, he knew where he wanted to go, but not how to get there, much less how to tell if it was what Merlin wanted too. He’d never courted anyone properly, let alone someone as close to him, and as male, as Merlin. Didn’t stop him flirting, though.
“You’re really good at that, you know.”
“At what?” Merlin asked, turning to him, genuinely puzzled.
“I saw you in the armoury, with your King Solomon act.”
“Oh, that.” Merlin laughed.
“I was impressed,” Arthur said, moving closer. Merlin half expected Arthur to kiss him. Fully longed for it.
“Were you?”
“Yeah. Never thought someone as dim as you could work even a situation as simple as that out.”
And then he had to go and ruin it. Oh, Arthur could have kicked himself sometimes.
“Well, I never expected similar from you, and oh look, King Prat is actually doing a good job at being King.”
The compliment took the air from Arthur’s lungs, though he wasn’t sure why since he’d heard similar from so many others. So it was lucky that Elaine decided to knock at that precise moment.
“Sorry I’m so late, Arthur, just having this chat with Lance and the time flew!”
Merlin took that opportunity to slip out, and as much as Arthur wanted to grab him and force him to stay, he didn’t know what to say. So he let Merlin go.
“It’s alright, Elaine, do you want to see the map?”
He led her over, already knowing the answer, guided her fingers, showing her Camelot, Astolat, and where Linet, Gareth and Galahad would be.
“So, how are things?” she asked, squeezing Arthur’s hand before they pulled apart.
“I don’t know. I think it’s going well, and then one of us ruins it.”
Elaine laughed a little.
“Alright, it’s mainly me.”
“Just give it some time, Arthur. You both need a while to get used to it, yeah? Actually being openly nice?”
Arthur still looked a little wounded.
“I promise, Arthur, unless you’re even more of a dick than usual, you’ll be kissing him at Midsummer. Alright?”
For once, Arthur allowed himself to be comforted. Besides, the thoughts of Midsummer reminded him of what he was supposed to be talking to Elaine about. He smiled a little.
“You know, I think Leon likes you.”
“Leon?” she laughed, “Don’t be silly.”
“No, really! He does.”
Elaine just laughed again.
“What would he want with me? I’m cursed, worthless.”
Arthur took a step over to her, found her hand with his, and held it tightly.
“You’re brave, skilled, funny, kind-”
“And I’m damaged goods, I’m second hand. If he knew that, if any of them knew that, I doubt I’d get a second look.”
Arthur recoiled a little, hurt.
“You think I train my knights to think like that?”
Elaine smiled, took his hand again.
“No, Arthur. It’s just how the world works, and I think you’d change it if you could. The fact is, no man with any sense would take on another’s child. If they did, they’d get so much ridicule… I couldn’t ask anyone to do that for me, Arthur. It would be wrong of me.”
“What if you didn’t have to ask?”
“I wouldn’t take it.”
She let go of Arthur’s hand, let his fingers slide from hers.
“I’m sorry, Arthur. I know you want everything to be happy and right, but sometimes… sometimes we have to face the consequences of our actions. I got pregnant. Now I have to live with that.”
She turned away, only to spin back and pull Arthur into a quick hug.
“Thank you, though.”
oOo
Midsummer was only a week away. It always crept up on Arthur, though he could feel it in the stifling heat, could see it through the heat haze if he ever thought to look. But each year, he forgot. It was only when the kitchens were asking him what he wanted for the feast and the bonfire was beginning to be assembled on the flat strip of grass outside the castle walls that it sank in; Midsummer. Half a year gone, and all downhill to winter.
It was worth it though, for Midsummer night. There was feasting, or a few hours of drinking before the bonfire, in which time the servants would have their own party. And then dancing, around the fire. At the end of the night, you were supposed to take hold of your partner from the first dance, and kiss them. Arthur had never worked out why, but the tradition was entertaining enough. He usually sat out of the first dance, not wanting to show favour. Or to end up dancing with Morgana, when she was still around. He’d never really wanted to kiss her, for all he admired her beauty. She was too much like a sister, and now. Now, he’d give anything to have her back again, even if it meant having to kiss her. But it wasn’t to be.
The castle was filled with wildflowers, and Arthur let the sight drag his mind away from Morgana, moving it to happier things, hopeful plans. Usually he’d get Merlin to do something like this for him, but it would sort of ruin the surprise, so he got Elaine to cover for him at training and gave Leon the instructions to send out the day’s patrol. He took an old cloak from the depths of his wardrobe, wrapped it around himself and snuck through the lower town, out into the woods.
Arthur supposed that the wildflowers he picked might not have been perfect. He didn’t know anything about colour matching, or the meaning of plants or anything, but he doubted it mattered. Merlin wouldn’t know anything about that either. He bound the flowers with a ribbon, appraising them in his chambers. They looked a little scraggly, a little unloved, so he preened, rearranged them until they looked acceptable. He added a note, in a cursive script he hadn’t used since his childhood days, suitably unrecognisable as his handwriting.
No one was in when he let himself into Gaius’ quarters, thankfully, and he laid the flowers on Merlin’s bed. Before he left he was unable to resist at least piling the clothes on the floor into the corner, so there was a little space to move. Then he went to spend the rest of the day looking very ill on his bed, giving evidence to his lies.
When Merlin found the flowers, he didn’t recognise the handwriting on the note. The flowers weren’t neat enough for Lance, were too subtle for Gwaine. Merlin wondered, and couldn’t let himself hope.
Part Three