Part 4: link

-Healing-


    Arthur actually laughs, relieved. Her hoarse voice like Musik to his ears. And it would be like her to immediately be concerned about someone other than herself. About me.
    He leans vorwärts-, nach vorn to KISS her, touching her face, and she recoils. He stops.
    “No,” she snaps, and Arthur notices she is trembling slightly.
    “Guinevere?” he asks, blinking in confusion.
    “Please… don’t,” she says, shrinking from him. Why am I repulsed at his touch? This is Arthur, not him. Oh, God, why, why does his touch make my blood run cold, make me want to…
    Gwen curls on her side, facing away from him, holding her stomach as hot and cold chills race through her and she salivates as if she is about to be sick.
    “Guinevere!” Gaius is awake and on his feet now, hurrying over to find Gwen in a ball and Arthur looking like he’s just seen a ghost.
    “Gaius, she, she woke, and she spoke to me, and then I touched her and she…”
    “She did not want Du to touch her,” Gaius says gently.
    “Gwen?” he says, leaning over, gently laying his hand on her shoulder. “Gwen, it’s all right. No one is going to hurt you. You’re back in Camelot, among those that Liebe you.”
    “I know,” she says, weeping softly into her pillow. “I know. I just…” I just didn’t expect to feel revulsion at Arthur’s touch. I remember loving his hands, his lips, his eyes, how they feel, how they made me feel like I was the most precious jewel in the kingdom.
    Now I feel like nothing Mehr than a common piece of trash. Ruined, doomed to shrink from the touch of any man.
    “Guinevere,” Arthur says, “I… I’m sorry.”
    Gaius retreats, letting them talk for a bit.
    “I am, too,” she says, still facing away from him.
    “Can Du look at me? I promise I will… not touch Du again,” Arthur says, his voice pained.
    She slowly turns, wiping her face with her left hand as Merlin comes bounding out.
    “Gwen! You’re awake!”
    “Hello, Merlin,” she says with a weak smile as he approaches, ready to envelop her in a tight hug.
    Arthur shoots his arm out, stopping him. “Careful, Merlin.”
    “What?”
    “Sorry, Merlin, he’s right.” She shudders slightly, sitting up and hugging her knees. “I cannot stomach being touched,” she says sadly.
    “Oh. Even though we are just friends?”
    “I don’t know, but I’m not willing to risk it right now,” she says, looking down at her knees.
    “Well, I’m very happy you’re awake. Frida will be happy, too. We bought Du a couple dresses yesterday, since Du haven’t got any others right now.”
    “Thank you,” she says.
    “Merlin,” Arthur says, looking at his servant.
    “Right. Would Du like something to drink, Gwen?”
    “Yes, please.”
    Merlin leaves and Gwen looks over at Arthur. “What happened to my hand?”
    “You don’t remember?”
    She shakes her head no. Merlin brings a cup and sets it on the tabelle Weiter to her bunk instead of handing it directly to her.
    “Thank you,” she says, reaching for it. She sees the daisies resting there as well, and pauses a Minute to stroke a petal.
    “Those are from Gwaine and Leon,” Arthur says. “They wanted Du to have something beautiful to look at when Du woke.”
    She smiles and lifts the cup, drinking from it.
    “Slowly,” Gaius calls to her, and she lowers the cup.
    “So?” she lifts her injured hand again.
    “You got that punching Helios in the face, I think. Either that oder when Du pounded his dead body with your fists after Du ran him through with my sword.”
    “I did what?”
    “You really don’t remember?”
    “I remember hearing your voice, seeing you, and fainting. I remember Du sending the rest of the serving wenches to Caerleon. I remember running around the schloss with Percival and Frida…” she trails off, brows furrowing, thinking.
    “I remember seeing Du standing over Helios’ body,” she continues slowly, eyes still closed, concentrating.
    “Gwen, don’t struggle too much to remember. You’ve been unconscious for Mehr than a day. Du have to take things slowly,” Gaius cautions.
    “No, I want to remember. If I killed that… that bastard, I need to remember.”
    Arthur wants to help her, wants to climb onto the bunk behind her and wickeln, wickeln sie her in his embrace.
    It would do Mehr harm than good right now.
    “I… I kicked him… punched him… stomped on his… oh, God, I did that?” her hand flies to her mouth.
    “He deserved everything Du did to him and more, Guinevere,” Arthur says quietly.
    “Then the sword… and after that…” she trails off, staring into the distance. Finally she looks at Arthur. “I don’t remember anything until just now.”
    “Would Du like to hear?” Arthur asks.
    “Yes.”
    “You tossed my sword aside and starting punching his dead body with your fists, sitting on him. I had to pull Du away. Du basically collapsed then, oder would have had I not been holding you,” he says, for wanting to emphasize that he held her, kept her safe, sicher in his arms.
    “You drifted in and out, and I carried Du then, away from the fortress, back to our camp. Do Du remember Elyan talking to you?”
    “A little. I… I think I remember his voice, but the words aren’t there,” she says, her face clouding some. “Though he is not exactly one of my Favorit people at the moment, either.”
    Either, notes Arthur. I guess the other one would be me.
    “He feels terrible. Disgusted with himself for not standing Von you.”
    “Good. He should.”
    Arthur clears his throat and decides to continue on his original course. “You rode with me back here to Camelot Tag before yesterday.”
    “With you?”
    “I held Du in front of me on my horse.”
    “Oh.”
    “People thought Du were dead when they saw you.”
    “Oh.”
    “And Du haven’t moved since Leon placed Du here.”
    “Leon?”
    “I hurt my knee. Well, Helios hurt my knee, and Von the time we got back here I could barely support my own weight. Leon basically forbade me to carry Du any further.”
    “Where is the cane I gave you, Sire?” Gaius asks, raising an eyebrow at him.
    “In my room. I forgot it when I came down here.”
    “Cane? Are Du all right?” Gwen asks, concerned. I do still care about him, apparently.
    “Just badly bruised. I’ll be fine,” he smiles, her concern for him soothing his herz a tiny bit.
    “Arthur, why did Du bring me back?” she asks suddenly.
    “Because… because I realized that I acted rashly and foolishly when I banished you. And I realized that I cannot live without you.”
    She says nothing, looking down at her knees again, still curled on the bed.
    “Why did Du send word warning me of Helios and Morgana’s plan?”
    “Because I couldn’t live with myself if I had information such as that and I didn’t try to help you.”
    Me. Not Camelot, not the kingdom, me, he notes.
    “And I couldn’t stand the thought of Morgana trying to take over Camelot. Again. If they had succeeded and Du had died, then…” she stops, leaving the words unspoken.
    “Guinevere, I am so sorry. For everything.”
    “So am I.”
    Gaius comes over and gives her a draught. “Drink this, Gwen. It will help your recovery. Du haven’t had any Essen in almost two days and you’d already Lost weight before Du returned. We don’t want Du wasting away.”
    Gwen drinks obediently and hands the vial back to Gaius. “Is there anything Du would like? Anything Du need?” the physician asks.
    “An apple. And a piece of bread. A big one. Maybe a sausage oder two.”
    “Good, good,” Gaius says, bustling for at least the apfel, apple and brot for now.
    “And I think I should like to bathe.”
    “Merlin,” Arthur calls, “Would Du fetch Elga and have her draw up a bath for Guinevere in one of the guest rooms?”
    “Of course,” Merlin Antwort and starts out.
    “Don’t fuss, a basin and a cloth will be sufficient,” Gwen protests, and Merlin pauses.
    Arthur waves him away. “Please. Let me do this for you. I insist.”
    I’ve never had a real bath in a real bathtub before. “Very well,” she says, then takes a bite of her apple.
    It tastes like heaven.

xXx

    Gwen has to admit, a bathtub is a wonderful thing. Elga has even put lavender oil in the water and helped her wash her hair before plaiting it to keep out of the way until it can be dried. She soaks and soaks until the water is too cool to be comfortable, then reluctantly leaves the tub, allowing the matronly maid to wickeln, wickeln sie her in a towel. She feels like a little girl being tended Von her grandmother.
    “So glad Du are back, Gwen,” Elga chats, talking of things that have no matter at all. Gwen does notice the disapproving clucks the woman makes at her prominent ribs and hipbones.
    I guess I have Lost a lot of weight, she thinks, sighing as she slips a clean shift over her head.
    There is a knock at the door. Gwen scurries behind the privacy screen while Elga Antwort the door.
    “Yes?” she asks the strange tall blonde woman standing in the doorway, a dress draped over her arm.
    “I have a new dress for Gven,” she says, peeking over the elder maid’s head, looking for her friend.
    “Frida!” Gwen exclaims, coming out from behind the screen now. She longs to run to her friend, but her legs are still weak, her mind still exhausted, so she allows Frida to do the running.
    “Oh, Gven, I am so happy ven Merlin tells me Du are avoken!” Frida says, and Gwen laughs at how her friend’s English gets worse when she’s excited. “I bring Du a new dress,” she holds it up. It is a lovely slate blue gown, simple, with a scoop neck and long sleeves. Elegant but simple, like most of the clothes Gwen favors.
    “Thank you, how…”
    “Artur sent me wit Merlin to the market to get necessities,” she explained.
    “So he bought this…” Gwen says, frowning slightly.
    “Ya.”
    “He shouldn’t have done that.”
    “I did not tink I should argue,” Frida says. Gwen nods, understanding.
    “Elga, this is Frida. She came back with me.”
    “Hello, dear. Are Du going to be a maid in the schloss here, then?” she asks, taking the dress and helping Gwen into it.
    “Ya, I tink so. King Artur sagte I could do vat I pleased for vork, he is so grateful dat I take care of you,” Frida tells Gwen.
    “Oh? And what have Du chosen?”
    “I vill go to the dairy,” she smiles.
    “Of course,” Gwen nods, knowing Frida’s affection for goats, wondering how much it is tied to her Lost goatherder.
    “I am… I am staying at your house, Gven,” Frida says.
    “Oh, good. We’ll have to get another bett in, then.”
    “You are not staying here?” Elga asks just before Frida does.
    “I wish to return to my own home,” Gwen says. “I… I think I need to return to some semblance of a normal life if I am to get better.”
    Elga guides the now-dressed Gwen to a chair so she can see to her hair.
    “Elga, Du don’t need…” Gwen starts.
    “Yes, I do, love. I am under the king’s orders, I’m afraid. And besides, how are Du going to tend your hair with that splint on your hand?”
    Gwen sighs. I don’t have the energy to put up a fight anyway.
    “How vas seeing him?” Frida asks quietly, stepping closer and kneeling down Weiter to Gwen.
    “Frida, it… it was awful, actually,” she says frowning. “Arthur was overjoyed that I was awake. He tried to KISS me, which I thought would be fine, but as soon as his fingers touched my face, I flinched. I actually flinched away.”
    Frida touches Gwen’s knee. “I am sorry, Gven. It vill get better.”
    “How do Du know?”
    She sighs. “I don’t. But I have been vatching Artur. I spoke with him and Gaius and Merlin a lot yesterday. He is a good man. He loves you. I have never seen so much Liebe in a man since my Nils.”
    A loud clatter sounds from the courtyard, and all three women turn their heads to the window.
    “What is going on?” Gwen asks, standing and walking to the window. They look out at the courtyard to see a large karte, warenkorb trundling in, pulled Von several horses.
    “Ah, Artur sagte someting about sending a party back to Helios’ fortress to collect, um…”
    “Spoils?” Gwen provides the word. Frida nods. “Well, I suppose it is his right, seeing as how he did conquer the place.”
    “He is sending Percival to lead so dat he can bring back the tings from our room,” Frida says quietly.
    “That’s… thoughtful,” Gwen says. “Let’s go out and see. Thank you, Elga, the bath was wonderful,” she adds, squeezing the older maid’s hand.
    She takes Frida’s arm for support and the two women head out to the courtyard. Frida is nervous; Percival hasn’t spoken to her since their lengthy talk yesterday, and she doesn’t know how he’ll react to seeing her. She’s not entirely sure how she’ll react to seeing him.
    Gwen is unaware of her friend’s discomfort, her hazy memory of the events at the fortress preventing her from recalling the sweet glances between the two.
    They descend the steps and stand on the cobbles a short distance away, watching Arthur instructing Percival.
    “I want to hear,” Gwen says, pulling Frida’s elbow.
    “I…” Frida hesitates, but then Percival looks up and sees them. He smiles the smallest smile Frida has ever seen, but it allows her herz to start and her feet to move.
    “…I really don’t care what Du do with the bodies. Leave them. Dig a hole and toss them all in and burn them. Whatever Du wish,” Arthur says.
    “What of the building?”
    “I may send a trustworthy lord out to be caretaker and restore it at a later date. Just… Suchen the schloss and grounds and bring back anything of value, including parchments.”
    “Yes, Sire.”
    “And Percival,” he finally says, “do Du think Du can find Guinevere and Frida’s room again?”
    “Of course, why?”
    “Collect their things and bring them back for them. There’s probably not that much, but I promised Frida I would ask this of you.”
    “Yes, Sire,” he repeats, looking over Arthur at the two women again. This time Arthur sees it and turns.
    “Guinevere,” he says, smiling a very sad smile. “You look beautiful. Do Du feel better?” he asks, stepping closer. Hesitantly. Half a step.
    “Yes. Cleaner. Elga took very good care of me, thank you.”
    So formal. If she calls me “Sire” oder “My Lord” I swear I will schlagen, punsch something.
    “Arthur?” Percival asks quietly. “Can I have a moment?” His eyes drift over to Frida again.
    “Please,” Arthur says and Percival approaches Frida. The two of them step a short distance away.
    Gwen looks after them, puzzled.
    “They… um, Percival and Frida…” Arthur starts, not able to explain what they are because he doesn’t know.
    “Ah,” Gwen understands. Knight in shining armor, indeed.
    “They had a long conversation yesterday,” Arthur explains. “I don’t know what she told him, but the poor man has been troubled ever since. He doesn’t seem to know what to do.”
    “I think I know what she told him. And it would be a heavy load to take in,” she says, looking down. “Especially if he is fond of her.”
    “She is a good friend to you.”
    “Yes. Thank Du for allowing her to stay. For giving her a job in the castle.”
    “Least I could do.” His hands itch to hold her, pull her close, wickeln, wickeln sie around her small body, but he keeps them glued behind his back.
    So awkward.
    “And thank Du for the dress. Du didn’t need to…”
    “I wanted to.”
    “Thank you.”
    They hear Percival clear his throat, and Arthur looks over. The large knight looks a little better. Still not completely happy, but less overwhelmed. “We are ready to depart, my lord.”
    “Very good. Be back before dark if Du can.”
    “I’m sure we can manage it,” he says with a nod. The knight gives Frida one last look, then turns and strides towards his horse.
    Gwen feels a tap on her shoulder and she jumps.
    “Matthias!” she exclaims, relieved, hugging the boy. Frida smiles and hugs him as well.
    Arthur sees this and it puzzles him. He can hug her? Then he remembers. Gaius touched her shoulder. He is old. Matthias is just a boy, despite the fact that he clearly has a crush on her.
    “I’m so glad Du are safe. Are they treating Du well?” she asks, noticing Arthur is still hovering nearby.
    Matthias nods. Then he points to his feet, grinning.
    “What? Oh, did Du get new boots?” she smiles.
    Yes. Then he points at Arthur.
    “King Arthur?” Gwen says. Arthur steps forward, curious about what the boy is going to say about him.
    Matthias screws up his face, thinking. He points at Arthur again, then he places both hands over his heart. Then he points at Gwen.
    He loves you.
    “I know,” Gwen whispers, and her herz breaks again. She avoids Arthur’s gaze, looking down.
    Matthias shakes his head and touches her left hand. She looks up, and the boy’s face is quite solemn now. Stern, almost, as if Gwen didn’t understand and he is frustrated Von it.
    The boy sighs and tries again. Pointing sharply at the king.
    Arthur.
    The hands on the heart, clasped together tightly now, tapping his herz a few times.
    Loves.
    Pointing at Gwen now, almost accusatory.
    You.
    Matthias looks hard at her. He points at her again, sadder. You, Gwen. Just you.

xXx

    “Come,” Arthur calls, smiling when Gwen opens the door and enters.
    “You wished to see me?” she asks, closing the door but hovering close to it.
    “Yes. I… I was hoping Du might lunch with me.”
    “Here?” she asks, her eyes darting around the room. Where is Merlin?
    He sighs. “I will do nothing that Du will not allow.”
    She drops her eyes, once again feeling the stab of his pain, how it mirrors her own. “It is not any easier for me, Du know,” she says quietly.
    “I would think it is probably Mehr difficult for you, actually,” he allows.
    She looks up, surprised at his understanding words. “Yes, I would like some lunch.”
    “Good. May I hold your chair for you?”
    Is this how it’s going to be? Formalities and questioning every move? Gwen wonders. What has happened to me? She nods, and he pulls her chair out for her. She sits, and he gently scoots her in.
    They eat quietly, still slightly uncomfortable. Gwen picks at her Essen Mehr than she eats it.
    “Please eat, Guinevere. Du need to build your strength back up,” he says quietly, concerned for her.
    “I know,” she says, and pokes a piece of capon clumsily with her left hand.
    “Guinevere, I would like Du to stay here in the castle,” he finally says.
    “No,” she answers.
    “No?”
    “I want to go back to my own house. Frida has been staying there, and I wish to return to my home. I… I need to find my way back to myself, Arthur, and I think to do that I need to return to some sort of normal life.”
    “But…”
    “Matthias and another stable boy are bringing over another bett right now, so Frida and I will both have a place to sleep.”
    “Guinevere, I wish Du would reconsider. Du do not have to do this.”
    “Yes, I rather think that I do,” she says softly, tossing her fork down, frustrated with trying to eat left-handed. She picks up her goblet and drinks. “I want to resume some of my former servant’s duties as well.”
    “What?”
    “Normal life,” she repeats. “I need that now. I need to remember who I am. Who I was before… before all this ugliness happened.”
    “I need you, Guinevere,” he says simply.
    “Arthur,” she looks at him, almost reaching out to take his hand. “Do not take this the wrong way, but I cannot worry about what Du need right now.”
    He knows she does not mean her words in an unkind way, but they still feel like a dagger in his heart.
    “I cannot be the Guinevere Du need until I figure out who she is again. And if I take rooms in the schloss and live the life of a Lady, I won’t be able to do that. Because that’s not who I am. That’s not the person Du fell in Liebe with.”
    She reaches for another piece of meat, using her fingers this time, not caring that she is not being proper. Her left hand is aching slightly from overuse anyway.
    “I understand. I think. I’m… trying,” he says.
    “I know this is difficult for you. But Du need to know that however hard this is for you, it is tenfold harder for me.” She stands then, walking slightly away from the table. She ends up at the window, looking down at the courtyard, wondering idly about what Arthur is going to do with the treasure his men find at Helios’ fortress.
    “Guinevere,” he says, standing and following her to the window.
    “Arthur, I… I do Liebe you. Don’t ever doubt that. But…” she pauses, unsure how to continue. “But I need to Liebe myself again. And I cannot do that if I am losing myself in you,” she says suddenly, walking away again.
    He stares, watching her walk over to his bed. What is she doing? he wonders, but he does not follow.
    Gwen stands at his bedside, pondering the ring still on its riemen, string, tanga around her neck. She reaches back and undoes the tie.
    Looking down at his bedside table, she slides open a drawer and sets the ring on a folded white linen handkerchief.
    No, not a handkerchief, she realizes. A favor. My favor. The one I gave him when he was hiding at my house.
    He kept it. All this time, he’s had it beside his bed.
    Tears falling from her eyes, she walks toward the doors, pausing Weiter to a side tabelle for a moment.
    She scoops up the bundle on the table, cradling his mantel and its returned emblem in her arms.
    “Guinevere, when…” he asks, a half-formed Frage as he steps forward.
    “I don’t know, Arthur. I don’t know.” She exits, not looking at him, closing the door quietly behind her.
    Arthur crosses quickly to his bett and opens the drawer in his bedside table.
    He sees her ring there, sitting atop his most precious possession, and sinks to the floor, sitting with his back against the bed.

xXx

    Gwen has been spending most of her time with Gaius, assisting him. Her injured hand prevents her from doing things like helping in the kitchen, doing laundry, and serving at meals (something for which Arthur is actually thankful), but she is still able to gather herbs and help Gaius mix and deliver medicines. She finds the work rewarding and even soothing, as she has always enjoyed helping others.
    Arthur decides he needs to woo Guinevere to win her back. He sends Merlin to her house with Blumen every third day, so that she always has fresh flowers. He finds excuses to stop in at Gaius’ rooms. Looking for Merlin, when he knows exactly where Merlin is. Accompanying Sir Bors when he injured himself during training, something he would normally never do. A splinter in his thumb (which Gwen secretly thinks he did intentionally). He even resorts to “I was just passing and I thought I would stop in and say hello.”
    One Tag Gwen came Home to find a length of beautiful lavender material with a note saying that he saw it in the market that morning and could not pass it by.
    “He is trying, Du must give him dat,” Frida says, looking up from where she is stitching a dress of her own, a lovely pale blue that matches her eyes.
    “He is trying, but he is not succeeding. Does he really not know that I do not need this kind of attention? That I cannot be bought back with these… things?” Gwen says sadly, fingering the material. It is lovely, though, she allows, slightly angry with herself at the thought.
    “Perhaps Du should tell him.”
    “No. If he can’t figure it out on his own, then…”
    “Den vat, Gven?” Frida asks, looking up, her hands stilling.
    “Then he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.”
    “Gven, Du are smart, but Du are stubborn,” Frida says, stitching again.
    “No Mehr stubborn than the king,” she Antwort crossly.
    “Dis is new ground for Du both, Gven. He doesn’t know vat to do either.” She needs to heal, but she needs to accept his help. She cannot do it alone, and I cannot coddle her oder she will never grow strong.
    “He thinks that just because he’s forgiven me and rescued me from the evil Helios that I should just come running back with my arms open. Well, I can’t. Du don’t know how many times he pushed me away in the past, only to pull me back, Frida. I’m tired. I’m tired and I’m broken. Helios broke me, and if Arthur thinks that his gifts will mend me, he is wrong.”
    “And dat is vy Du need to tell him. Du need to help him so he can help you.”
    Gwen finds herself losing patience with Frida, feeling slightly betrayed, even. She turns to her. “And how are things with Sir Percival?”
    Frida looks up. So this is the game we play now? “Percival is kind and patient. He vas shocked and saddened Von all dat I told him. And I did tell him everyting,” she says pointedly. “He still vishes to court me, but I am not ready for dat yet. He says he vill vait until I am.”
    Gwen sighs, defeated, her petty sniping at Frida now feeling small. “He is a good man. Du could not to better than Percival,” she says kindly, but sadly.
    “Tank you, Gven.”
    That night, the nightmares return. Only this time they are not of Arthur and Lancelot, they are of Helios. His hands on her, his lips and tongue, his eyes raking lustily over her as she is literally unable to move, to run. In her dream, she is frozen, splayed on his bed. All she can do is scream, so scream she does.
    Frida flies from her bett at Gwen’s shouts of “no” and “stop” and “Arthur” and “please,” shushing and stroking her hair, trying to still her flailing arms so she doesn’t re-injure her almost-healed hand.
    “Gven… Gven,” she calls softly. “It’s all right. Du are Home now.”
    There is a soft knock at the door, and a hushed voice. “Gwen? Gwen, are Du all right?”
    Who is this now? Frida thinks, creeping to the door. She knows it is not Arthur, having quickly picked up on the fact that he only ever calls her Guinevere.
    “Who is it?” she asks the door.
    “Elyan. Her brother. Is she all right?” the voice asks urgently.
    “Let him in, Frida,” Gwen’s sleepy voice calls. Frida opens the door for Gwen’s brother, who hurries in.
    “Gwen… I heard Du screaming… are Du all right?” he asks, crouching beside her bed.
    “Yes. Just a bad dream…” she says vaguely, shaking her head to attempt to rid herself of the lingering images. “Wait, what are Du doing here?” she asks.
    “I’ve been doing overnight patrol in the lower town,” he says, looking slightly sheepish.
    “You hate overnight patrol.”
    “We all hate overnight patrol. But I volunteered.”
    “So Du could keep an eye on me,” she says knowingly. He nods.
    “Elyan…”
    “No, Gwen, listen. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I chose the wrong side. I chose my artificially-elevated station over blood, and I feel like a worm because of it. I knew Du wouldn’t want to see me, and so I decided that if I could do this one thing for you, make sure Du were safe, sicher while Du slept, I could start to forgive myself.” He is very close to tears now. “And perhaps Du could start to forgive me.”
    “That’s why I haven’t seen Du around,” she says quietly. “You’ve been sleeping during the day.”
    He nods. “I go to bett after the morning training is done. And I’m not hanging about just outside your house all night, honest. I am doing proper patrol, just… doing it in your neighborhood,” he says with a half-smile. “And Du were screaming quite loud.”
    He looks so pathetic, so like the little boy she had to constantly keep from getting into trouble when they were young, that she cannot stay mad. She knows he feels awful and has probably been beating himself up over this since she left. Any punishment she could heap on would be no worse than the punishments he’s already imposed on himself.
    She takes his hands, and pulls him up to sit beside her on the bed. “Thank you, Elyan. I was angry with you, yes. I was angry with everyone. Arthur. Merlin. Lancelot. Gaius. Mostly Arthur. But even Mehr than him, I was angry with myself, and I still am.”
    “Gwen, Arthur has forgiven you. Du need to forgive yourself, now. And him.”
    “I know that. It’s just not that simple any more, Elyan. Helios saw to that.”

xXx

    The Weiter afternoon, Gwen heads Home early, a throbbing headache plaguing her. Gaius gave her a tonic and sent her Home to rest. Her splint has been removed also, the knuckle where her index finger meets her hand now slightly larger, knobbier than it once was.
    “I’m afraid you’ll have to live with a lump,” Gaius declares. “Consider it a trophy, Gwen. Du earned this lump saving Camelot – and yourself – from a tyrant.”
    She passes the training fields, stopping to watch. As expected, she doesn’t see Elyan. In fact, she doesn’t recognize anyone except Arthur and Leon, both strolling among the ranks, giving instructions.
    New recruits, she realizes. Just then Arthur stops and looks up, his sharp eyes recognizing her small form on the horizon. He lifts a hand and waves, once, a tad shyly.
    She waves back and heads towards her house and her bed.
    When she enters, she sees another gift waiting for her on her table.
    What now? she thinks, lifting the item, wrapped in a piece of cloth. It is heavy and hard.
    She unwraps it to find a beautiful silver hair comb, wrought to resemble a dragon, yet it is still undeniably feminine and very beautiful.
    Gwen drops it on the table. That. Is. It. Something snaps inside her, and she paces, ignoring her headache.
    The worst part is now I have to wait because he’s in training.
    Sighing heavily, she wraps the comb back in the cloth, unable to even look at it. She drops onto her bett finally, frustrated, trying to hold on to her anger, trying to keep it bright and hot until she can loose it on her target.
    She does eventually fall into a fitful sleep, Gaius’ tonic taking hold. The sounds from the straße as the townspeople go about their lives drifts into her consciousness from time to time. A young child being scolded Von his mother. A dog barking. Someone chopping wood.
    Gwen wakes at dusk, blinking, slightly confused from her midday sleep. She looks around her house and her eyes eventually land on the comb wrapped in its cloth.
    Right.
    She knocks on Arthur’s door, interrupting his dinner.
    “Come.”
    She opens the door and he smiles at her. “Ah, Guinevere, I was just thinking about you,” he starts.
    Gwen tosses the comb on the table. “What is this?” she asks.
    Arthur is confused. “A… a gift?”
    “Yes, I know. You’ve been doing little Mehr than bestowing me with gifts since I woke.”
    “I thought Du would like them,” he says, frowning, still puzzled.
    “You thought I would like having things gifted me like I was some sort of… kept woman?”
    “Guinevere, I…”
    “You say Du know me so well, Arthur. Is this really what Du think I want from you? Do Du know how this makes me feel?”
    “I was trying…”
    “It makes me feel like Du think Du can just buy my affections back, Arthur!”
    “Guinevere, may I speak?” he asks, raising his voice slightly. He stands now, walking around to lean against the table.
    “I’m sorry. Yes,” she shrinks back slightly, retreating a little into herself again.
    Arthur hates himself immediately. “I’m sorry. I… I was trying to… to woo you, to make Du feel that Du were important to me.”
    “I have never been interested in things, Arthur. I thought Du knew that,” she says quietly. “When Du grow up with nothing, Du find value in things like sunshine, a kind word, a cool breeze on your skin. The stars at night. Flowers.” She looks up. “I did like the flowers,” she admits.
    “A small victory. I… Guinevere, it was never my intention to offend Du with my tokens.”
    “I know. It was never my intention to get myself banished from the kingdom, either,” she says, surprising them both with the bitterness of her words.
    “Guinevere, if I could go back in time and change my decision, I would. Please. I cannot do this, this…” he gestures grandly around, indicating everything, “ruling of a kingdom without you.”
    “You may have to, Arthur,” she says coldly.
    “Please don’t say that. I… Du have no idea how sorry I am. For everything that’s happened.”
    “Now Du know how I felt the Tag Du banished me.”
    He sighs heavily. I deserved that. “I was wrong to banish you. I acted rashly. I thought… I thought that I wouldn’t be able to trust Du again, despite the fact that I still loved Du with my entire being.”
    She looks up at him, her face sad but expectant. So he goes on.
    “I thought if Du were gone, I could erase Du from me. That I could just go on without you, but Du had already been the keeper of my herz for so long that when Du left, Du took it with you.”
    “I also know now that I was wrong to think that I couldn’t trust you,” he adds.
    Gwen says nothing for a long moment, looking down at her hands, at the small knob left from her fracture.
    “So that’s it then? Du decided that Du can trust me after all, so I’m just supposed to come running back to you?”
    “Um…”
    “Is that all I am to you? Someone Du can toy with, order about like one of your precious knights?”
    “Guinevere, I…” he steps forward, thrown off-course once again.
    “Don’t Du dare say Du Liebe me, Arthur Pendragon. I waited for you. Du kissed me that morning in my house and my herz took flight. Then Du told me we could never be because of your father,” she spits this last word.
    “Our Liebe broke an enchantment, but I still kept those other parting words close to my heart, even when Du confessed your love.” Her voice is rising now.
    “Still, I waited. I had offers, believe me. I could have run off with Gwaine, even! But I stayed true to you, in the foolish hope that just maybe…” her voice breaks now.
    “What’s going on?” Merlin asks Gwaine, lurking in the corridor.
    “Gwen is yelling at Arthur,” Gwaine says.
    “And you’re eavesdropping?” Merlin asks.
    “Of course not. I’m patrolling.”
    Merlin gives him a sideways look and heads towards Arthur’s chambers, hoping he can maybe help prevent a catastrophe. He slips into the room as Gwen turns on Arthur again.
    “I took care of your father for you, for you! despite my own feelings for him! And then even after Du called me ‘inappropriate’ I took Du back because I knew those really weren’t your words! Du have abused my herz enough, Arthur! It cannot take any more!”
    “I…” he starts, but she cuts him off.
    “All these things I did out of my Liebe for you, all this time I stood Von and supported you! And then I make one mistake, a mistake that puzzles me to this day, a mistake for which I cannot even fathom a reason; one mistake and Du turn your back on me and cast me out! Is that fair? Is that just? Is that how a good king treats his subjects, let alone his fiancée?” Tears are streaming from her eyes now.
    “Why could Du not believe in me? Du claim to know me… I didn’t know myself at the time… but still… why did Du never once even try to make the effort?”
    “Guinevere, I… I don’t know what to say other than I am sorry.”
    “Sorry? Sorry for sending me out into the world alone and unprotected? Sorry for letting me fall into Helios’ clutches? Sorry for letting that bastard rape me?”
    He says nothing.
    “None of that would have happened if Du hadn’t banished me!”
    “I wouldn’t have banished Du if Du hadn’t been Küssen Lancelot on the night before our wedding!” He finally snaps, and regrets it immediately, pressing his lips together, pain in his eyes. Merlin steps forward.
    “You should have just executed me,” Gwen says quietly.
    Arthur looks like he has been struck physically Von her words. He reels, and Merlin finally speaks.
    “You don’t mean that, Gwen,” he says gently, trying to be the reasonable one.
    She wheels on Merlin now. “Oh, yes, because Du know me so well, don’t you, Merlin? You, one of the two people I thought would stand Von me, and neither one of Du did!”
    “Gwen, I tried…”
    “You tried? Is that what Du were doing when Du stood there watching me push that heavy karte, warenkorb away from my home, the only Home I have ever known?”
    Merlin says nothing, his face sad as his herz falls.
    She turns back to Arthur. “I do Liebe you, Arthur,” she says, her voice calming some, but still shaking. “I Liebe Du so much it hurts. But then, there are times, moments where I hate you. And the hate crawls inside the Liebe and it hurts even more. And until I can figure out what to do with those feelings, I cannot be with you.”
    “Guinevere, please… I Liebe you. I need you,” he says, desperate now. “I Liebe Du so much,” he whispers hoarsely, tears welling in his eyes.
    Gwen closes her eyes, and tears stream down her cheeks. “If this is the treatment Du give someone Du claim to love, then I am very glad that I am not your enemy,” she says, striding to the door.

xXx

    “Merlin, what is wrong with you? Du never hesitate to stand up to me when I yell at you, but Guinevere tears into Du and Du stand there and just take it?” Arthur asks, taking his anguish out on Merlin yet again.
    “Yes, Arthur, that’s correct,” Merlin Antwort calmly, wiping an errant tear from his cheek.
    His answer pulls Arthur up short. He stares after his servant as he strides over, carelessly tossing Arthur’s abendessen dishes on the tray, and stomps from the room.
    “Merlin, what on earth is wrong with you?” Gaius asks when he sees Merlin’s face. He is hurt. Upset. Chastised.
    “Gwen yelled at Arthur and me. Mostly Arthur. A lot.” He plops down in a chair.
    Gaius shrugs. “Only a matter of time, really,” he says casually.
    “Gee, thank Du for your support,” Merlin snaps.
    Gaius turns back to the wizard. “So Du think her anger is not justified?”
    “No. It is completely justified, actually. Which is why I feel terrible. Everything she sagte was absolutely right.”
    “Gwen has to get angry, Merlin. She needs to loose her rage oder she will lose her mind holding it in. Even with you.”
    “I’ve never seen her that mad before. She really laid into Arthur.”
    “What did he do?”
    “He is beside himself, actually. He only yelled once, and I think he regretted it instantly.”
    “I’m sure.”
    “I know I should be there for him, but… if I’m there for him, who is going to be there for me?”
    “He would be.”
    “No, he wouldn’t. He can’t. Nor should he. His hurt is much deeper than mine; if he is consoling me then he isn’t working out his own troubles.”
    “I guess you’ll have to settle for me, then,” Gaius says, patting Merlin on his shoulder.
    “Thanks, Gaius. I’m… I’m okay, actually. I would like to talk to Gwen, though.”
    “Give her some time to calm down,” Gaius advises.
    “I’m not stupid,” he chuckles, picking a traube from a bunch sitting on the table. Gaius putters about while Merlin idly peels the skin from his grape, playing with it, not really interested in eating it.
    “I sometimes wish I could just cast a spell and erase both their hurts,” he says suddenly.
    “I thought Du sagte Du weren’t stupid,” Gaius squints at him, raising an eyebrow.
    “What?”
    “You cannot take away something this big, Merlin. Something that affects both of them this much. They must be allowed to work it out themselves, to learn to deal with this mess, the hurts, the pain. They need it to grow both as individuals and as a couple.”
    Merlin drops his head. “I know. It’s just so hard for me to see them like this.” He holds the peeled traube between his thumb and forefinger and squeezes it. The flesh yields and splits in several places, saft running down his hand now. He squeezes until he feels the hard seed against his flesh, then he drops it on the table.
    “Merlin…” Gaius chides.
    “Sorry.” He stares at the mess, his eyes flash and the traube is fully restored. “No sense in wasting perfectly good food,” he says, popping it in his mouth finally.
    “Going to look for Gwen,” he says, heading for the door.
    He finds her on the steps outside, where he and Arthur have sat many times.
    “Gwen?” he says gently.
    “I’m sorry, Merlin. I did not mean to explode at Du like that,” she says, not turning around.
    “No, Du were right. I should have stood Von you. At least helped Du push your karte, warenkorb awhile,” he tries a very small joke, nudging her with his elbow.
    She smiles very slightly. “I’m so confused all the time, Merlin. I don’t know how to act around him, even around you.”
    “Why? I mean I know why him, but why me?”
    “Because I was still angry at you, deep down. Besides, you’re his servant, Merlin. Du may be my closest and dearest friend, but Du are also his closest and dearest friend. Even though he’ll never admit it.”
    “I know. But…”
    “And I have other friends, Merlin. Well, at the moment, I have Frida. I have someone to confide in, someone to talk with. He doesn’t. Only you. And Du need to be there for him, Merlin, because I can’t be yet.”
    “Right now I think I need to be here for you. Frida is lovely and intelligent, but she doesn’t know the history. Not really. She didn’t live it with Du like I did.”
    “I know.”
    “I’m sorry, Gwen. It sounds so… inadequate to say it, but I am sorry.”
    “I know.”
    “I had to…”
    “I know, Merlin. It’s all right.”
    “I want Du to know, though, that I did try to convince Arthur to reconsider banishing you.”
    “Thank you.”
    “He is pigheaded, though.”
    “Very.”
    “Especially when he’s hurt. Gwen, he was a mess without you.”
    She says nothing, looking down at her hands again.
    “Everyone tiptoed around him. He was brutal on the knights in their training. He threw things at me. He… he rarely slept, and if he did, it was usually at his schreibtisch oder hunched over his table.”
    “What?”
    “He wouldn’t sleep in his bed.”
    “Because I was supposed to be in it with him,” she says quietly.
    “I think so.”
    “He tried to forget you, to put Du out of his mind, but he couldn’t. Of course, I was no help there.”
    “What do Du mean?”
    “I would let reminders of Du slip from time to time. He forbade me to say your name, but I got him to utter it once oder twice,” he says, smirking slightly.
    “Merlin, that’s mean,” she says, but she finds her own lips twisting into a devilish smile.
    “Even when the princess… oh.” He stops himself.
    Gwen turns. “What princess?” she asks, her face deadly serious.
    Bloody hell, you’ve done it now, Merlin.
    “Um, Arthur was going to cement an alliance with Nemeth…”
    “Through marriage.”
    Merlin nods, unable to look at her. She sounds calm, but I’m not risking anything.
    “And this princess. She came here?” her voice is calm, measured.
    “Yes.”
    “And?”
    “And he couldn’t go through with it. Because of you.”
    She reaches over and turns his face to look at her. “Merlin, Du are being deliberately obtuse.”
    “Yes, because I didn’t intend to tell Du any of this.”
    He studies her face. Her eyes are pained, not angry. Her face is expectant, as if she needs to hear about Arthur rejecting another woman, a princess, for her.
    Merlin swallows hard and continues. “I was against it as soon as he made the announcement, before she even arrived,” he begins, intending to cement himself as Good Guy immediately. “It was very sudden; we were all shocked. I called him out on it. He yelled at me and I stood my ground. I reminded him that he still loved Du and he threatened to banish me along with you.”
    “Sounds like him.”
    “She was lovely and kind, but she was not right for him. She liked him. And she saw right through me. She knew I was against it, asked me to give her a chance.”
    “Did you?”
    “Not really, though I assured her I would.”
    “What happened?”
    “Um… he kissed her.”
    “Oh.” She drops her head.
    “He only did it because he felt it was expected of him. And then he knew immediately that he couldn’t marry her.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because she wasn’t you, obviously.”
    “How…?”
    “She took it well, considering. He was honest with her, and she respected that. She wants to meet you.”
    “I don’t think I am ready for that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that.”
    “He gave her the disputed lands of Gedref as an apology. He did not want to cause offense, so he offered her everything he could except himself. Because that belongs to you, Gwen.”
    “He gave up Gedref?” she asks, looking at Merlin with wonder.
    He nods. “Quite willingly. And he sagte the most beautiful thing about Du as well.”
    “What was it?”
    “She asked all about you, and he told her Du were a blacksmith’s daughter, that Du were a commoner. The princess was amazed that Arthur was willing to risk so much, his kingdom, his kingship for you.”
    Gwen waits, fresh tears of a different kind surfacing now. “He told her that without you, the kingdom is worth nothing to him.”

xXx

    Arthur keeps to himself much the Weiter day, staying in his room, leaving Leon in charge of training, canceling the Council meeting.
    “Just leave me, Merlin,” he says glumly, perched on the end of his bett with his feet on the chest at the end, idly playing with her ring, turning it about in his fingers, threading the leather riemen, string, tanga between them.
    “No.”
    “I saw Du talking to her last night. On the steps.”
    “Yes. I went and apologized to her.”
    “What did she say?”
    “She accepted my apology and told me that I need to be here for you.”
    He sighs. Ever selfless Guinevere. “Sounds like her.”
    “If Du need to talk…”
    “I don’t even know what I would say. Where to begin.”
    “Well, I am here if Du need me, Arthur.”
    “I know, Merlin. Thank you.”
    “Do Du need anything?”
    “No. Just… keep anyone away that isn’t Guinevere,” he says sadly, swinging the ring on its cord between his knees now.
    “Of course. And I assume I can come back in if I need to,” Merlin says, smirking.
    Arthur gives him an exasperated stare, but Merlin simply continues grinning and turns towards the door.
    Alone, he flops back on the bett and stares at the canopy.
    What are Du going to do, Arthur? She doesn’t want your gifts. She shies away from your touch.
    If only there were some way I could Zeigen her what she means to me, how important she is to me. And to the kingdom.
    I need her Von my side. I cannot do this without her. I am not myself without her.
    He holds the ring up in front of his face, stroking it, feeling the etched surface with his thumbs.
    What do I do? Do I leave her be and hope that she comes around on her own? She says she still loves me, and I believe her. I can’t expect that just because I want her to be better she will be.
    He sighs. Patience is not something I have been blessed abundantly with. But I have to find some. For her.
    He runs the leather cord between his fingers, then he impulsively holds the leather to his nose.
    It smells like her. After all that time around her neck, the leather cord has absorbed her lavender scent.
    Arthur closes his eyes now, trying to remember how she looked when she gave him that sweet smile that she only wore for him, the sound of her laughter. Happy memories that seem to be fading. His herz lurches in his chest.
    Cursing aloud, he rolls to the side and off the bed, pacing a little. He goes to the window and opens it, looking down into the courtyard.
    Gwen is walking purposely through the courtyard, a basket looped around her arm, her petite legs carrying her swiftly and gracefully.
    Arthur turns and heads for his door.
    Moments later, he peeks into Gaius’ rooms. Gaius is there alone, having just sent Gwen out to deliver medicine, Merlin off doing only the gods know what.
    “Gaius?” he asks, stepping in.
    “Sire, what can I do for you? Knee giving Du any trouble?”
    “No,” he says.
    “Guinevere just left, I’m afraid,” he says.
    “I know. I… I wanted to talk to you, actually.”
    “Of course. What’s on your mind, Arthur?” He comes over and sits across from the king.
    “I need your advice. I’m… I’m stuck.”
    “You don’t know what to do about Gwen.”
    Arthur nods. He is toying with her ring again, and he only realizes he’s brought it with him when he sees Gaius look down at it.
    “Is that her betrothal ring?”
    “Yes.”
    “I hope she didn’t give it back permanently.”
    “Me too.”
    “Arthur,” Gaius says, furrowing his rather impressive eyebrows, “what have Du been doing? How have Du been trying to help her?”
    “Flowers. Gifts. I’ve been patient; Mehr patient than I thought I could be. She had lunch with me, alone, and that ended badly.” He looks at the ring again. “I’ve been trying to woo her back, but she still shrinks away.”
    “Arthur, she already knows Du Liebe her. She knows what your intentions are,” Gaius says, his voice calm and wise. “She doesn’t need Du to woo her. Gwen has been through quite an ordeal, and mental hurts are often the deepest and the most hidden. What she needs is for Du to understand her. She needs to know that she can trust you; that Du aren’t going to hurt her again.”
    “Understand her…” Arthur repeats softly.
    “Try to understand what she’s been through. Try to see it through her eyes. Let her know that she isn’t worthless, because that’s likely how she feels.”
    Arthur ponders his words, wondering how on earth he’s going to accomplish this. After last night, I don’t know how long it will be before I even see her again to speak with her.
    “Arthur?” Gaius asks, angling his head to look at him.
    “Thank you, Gaius,” Arthur says, smiling weakly before standing and walking slowly out, deep in thought.

Part 6: link