Part 48: link


    ”One Mehr match. Tournament will be over.”
    I feel so awkward around her this morning. My herz is pounding. Surely I’m not nervous about the tournament. Is it… is it her?
    “You can go back to being Prince Arthur.”
    Yes, I suppose so. Do I want to, though? She seems… shy this morning. Oh. She’s coming closer.
    “Um… I thought Du might wear it… for luck.”
    Is she granting me a favor? Oh. Oh, my. She is. Wow.
    “Thank you.” Take it, dummy. Don’t touch her hand. Don’t. Just take the favor.
    Did she just shrug? Like this is no big deal?
    Has she always been this beautiful? Have I been that blind? Why is it so hot in here? Do I dare?
    I want to. I really, really want to.
    Oh God, her lips feel as good as they look. And she’s not pulling away. She’s not. Pulling. Away.
    Stop before Du can’t. Gently.
    I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful before this moment. I have been that blind.
    Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.
    “I must go.”
    I am in trouble.

    The station alarm blares, waking Arthur out of his dream. He blinks a few times, puzzled. What’s that noise? Slowly the bunkroom comes into focus and he remembers where he is and who he is.
    “Arthur! Come on!”

    Merlin had better be right. If he’s not, I’m going to take him Von his ears, and…
    Which tent is Arthur’s again? Of course. The largest one. Silly me.
    There’s Gaius. Don’t even ask, old man.
    All right, Arthur.
    “Ah, finally come to wish me luck? I really don’t think I need it anymore.”
    Prat. “No, Arthur, I’ve not come to wish Du luck.”
    How the hell am I going to do this?
    “Honestly, that’s rather rude.”
    Aha. “Then let me make amends.” Go. Go.
    Close your eyes. Just in case. Du don’t want to see the look of disgust… wait a moment, he’s relaxing. Oh… oh, my. His arms feel so good around me. Okay, I guess Merlin was right.
    There he is. My Arthur. He’s back. Oh! He’s hurt.
    “What am I doing?”
    “You’re in a fight. To the death. You’re losing.”
    He looks Mehr confused Von the fact that he’s losing than he was Von the fact that he is in a fight.
    “But—“
    His skin is so warm under my hand.
    “There’s no time to explain. Just… live for me, Arthur. That’s all I ask right now.”

    Gwen’s phone wakes her. Since missing the text when Arthur got hurt, she has changed her notification sound to something louder and makes certain that the volume is up before she goes to bett when he’s at work.
    Fire in küche @ Luigi’s! I am fine. Restaurant will be closed a few days.
    “Oh no!” she says out loud. That’s one of our Favorit places.
    Glad it’s not a destroyed she sends back. She stands to go to the bathroom, carrying her phone with her.
    Why are Du up? It’s past three a.m.
    I heard your text come in.
    Thirty Sekunden later her phone rings.
    “Hello?” she Antwort as if she doesn’t know who’s calling.
    “Yes, may I speak with Guinevere, please?”
    “Please hold, sir. She’s having a pee.”
    Arthur laughs, but stops abruptly when he hears the flush.
    “You weren’t kidding?” he asks.
    “No,” she laughs.
    “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    “I set my phone loud when you’re not home, so I won’t miss it if Du text me.”
    “Why?”
    “Why do Du think?”
    “Oh. Because of the thing. With the shoulder.”
    “Yes.”
    “How was your day?”
    “Not bad,” she says, climbing back into bed, reaching for her bear.
    “Laundry all done?”
    “Yes, thankfully. I also had lunch with Morgana and she gave me a haircut.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yep. Chopped it all off.”
    “You did not.”
    “You won’t know for sure till Wednesday, will you?” she teases.
    “You wouldn’t do that to me.”
    “It’s not about you. It’s my hair.”
    “You didn’t. Did you?”
    He sounds pretty worried. “No.”
    “I knew Du wouldn’t.”
    “You weren’t sure, admit it.”
    “Okay, maybe I was a little concerned.”
    “A little.”
    “Oh! Wait. Hang on a sec.”
    She waits, while the background voices and noises abruptly stop.
    “Where are Du going?”
    “Outside.”
    “What’s up?”
    “I had a dream.”
    “A dream?” You, too?
    “Yes, one of those dreams. Except Du weren’t being led to your death this time.”
    “Always good news.”
    “It wasn’t as… good as that one Du had on the sofa that afternoon, but it was still pretty good.”
    “Oh?”
    “I think it was the first time I—I mean Prince Arthur – kissed the servant Guinevere.”
    “Prince?”
    “Definitely still Prince. Dream Gwen sagte something about it.”
    “Dream Gwen?” she laughs.
    “Well, what else am I supposed to call her? She’s not really you, so…”
    “Yes, yes, I get it. Arthur?”
    “Hmm?”
    “I had a dream, too.”
    “Do tell.”
    “Similar to yours, actually, just a kiss. But it was a good one. I think I—I mean ‘Dream Gwen’— was breaking some sort of enchantment. A Liebe spell, from the looks of things.”
    “Was I king in yours?”
    “You are so fixated on that,” she laughs. “I don’t know, honestly. If I had to guess, I would say prince. So. Details. Tell me what Du remember.”

TUESDAY

    “Oh, that is so romantic! Thunderstorm, power outage, candlelit dinner, Frank Sinatra…” Autumn has been hanging on Gwen’s every word as she tells her about the weekend. The fight doesn’t really need to be mentioned, she decides.
    “Morning, Viv,” Autumn says as Vivian walks in.
    “Hi Autumn… Gwen,” Vivian says, practically running past, not looking at Gwen.
    “Hmm. Wonder what’s up with her? She was fine yesterday,” Autumn wonders.
    “I came back, that’s what,” Gwen says. She quietly tells her friend what little she knows about Vivian’s behavior with Arthur.
    “She did not! What a bitch!”
    “Shhh!” Gwen shushes her. “So now Du know. But Du didn’t hear it from me.”
    “Good thing she’s out of here soon, hey?”
    “Can’t come soon enough.”
    “So he’s working now?”
    “Yes. Had to go in yesterday, almost right after we got home.”
    “Well, that sucks.”
    Gwen laughs at Autumn’s very appropriate and very American turn of phrase. “A bit, yes. But I got a lot done. Got a haircut. Did the laundry. Ran a few errands. Picked out his wedding ring. And a wedding gift for him as well.”
    “Ooo! What did Du get?”
    “Gwen, welcome back!” Dr. Gaius interrupts, walking in.
    “You’re early today,” she says, walking around the schreibtisch to give him a hug and take his books.
    “I have a busy Tag ahead,” he explains. “That’s a beautiful necklace, Gwen. Schokolade diamond, if I’m not mistaken?”
    She smiles, “Yes, you’re right. Du clearly know your jewelry, Dr. Gaius.”
    “And can I assume that was a gift from Arthur?” he smiles knowingly.
    “Of course.”
    “The lad has excellent taste. But I knew that,” he winks at her. “He chose you.”
    “Well, if what you’ve been saying is true, he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter, did he?” she says quietly to him with a smirk.
    He laughs, gives her a friendly squeeze on the elbow, and proceeds into the bibliothek for his latest pile of books.
    “Gwen, phone for you,” Elana calls.
    “No rest for the weary,” Gwen mutters, going to the phone.

    “Yes, father, we’re still on for tomorrow,” Arthur says into his phone.
    “Gwen isn’t coming?” Uther asks.
    He sounds disappointed.
    “No. And she wouldn’t be allowed anyway, remember?” Arthur says. Uther’s club only allows women in for special events. Stupid, misogynistic, antiquated…
    “Well, yes, but we could go somewhere else if she wished to Mitmachen us.”
    “No, she’s not coming. I think she has a dress fitting anyway.”
    “Already?”
    “Apparently. She sagte something about probably needing several fittings. She’s having the dress custom-made, Du know.”
    “Good for her.”
    Well, he clearly approves of that. “Father, what’s on your mind? Du don’t just call me for no reason, and I’m not buying that you’re just confirming tomorrow.”
    “I’m trying to figure out what you’re on about. With this dinner. What is it Du wish to discuss with me?”
    “We will talk about it tomorrow at dinner. It’s nothing bad, I promise. No one is ill oder pregnant oder moving to Brazil oder anything. Stop fixating on it.”
    Uther sighs. “Very well. I will meet Du there at seven tomorrow night.”
    “Don’t be late,” Arthur tells him.
    “Young man, where do Du think Du get your penchant for punctuality?”
    Did he just make a joke?
    “All right, I’ll see Du tomorrow.”
    “What was that all about?” Merlin asks. “Your father never calls you.”
    “He’s all worked up because I asked to have abendessen with him tomorrow.”
    “You did what?”
    “Yeah. It was Gwen’s idea. We found some… things… at the cottage and she thinks I need to get him to talk about mum.”
    “What kind of things did Du find?” Merlin raises an eyebrow.
    “You have a dirty mind. Some photos. Letters. A newspaper clipping about the accident.”
    “At the cottage?”
    “Most of them were in a box that was sitting on oben, nach oben of the cabinet in the boathouse. Gwen was getting the scaler and fisch messer and the box almost fell on her.”
    “So your father didn’t burn everything, did he?”
    “I honestly never believed that he did. Her clothes, yes. But pictures, no. Why would Du burn pictures of your dead wife? Surely you’d want to keep them as a remembrance.”
    “Exactly. So you’re going to take this box and present it to him at dinner. At the club.”
    “Yep. I’m a dead man.”
    “That’s brilliant.”
    Arthur looks up at his friend, surprised.
    “You think so?”
    “Absolutely. He’s hidden behind his grief for twenty-five years now. Time to make him come out, I think. Gwen’s a smart lady.”
    “Yes, I know. If I didn’t Liebe her so much it’d be really annoying.”
    “And doing it at the club is a stroke of genius.”
    “Hey, I can take credit for that! That was my idea. It’ll keep him from being a jerk and making a scene. Hopefully.”
    “What kind of pictures were they?”
    “There was one of the two of them before they were married. That’s not coming with. We’re going to have it restored and framed for him.”
    “Nice.”
    “The ones in the box were wedding snaps.”
    “And the letters?”
    “From my mother to Father. She was traveling for a while, and was Schreiben to him.”
    “What did they say?”
    “I didn’t read them!”
    “Why not?”
    “Well, would you like to read Liebe letters your mother has written?”
    Merlin makes a face. “Ooo. Good point.”
    “Oi! Merlin! This krankenwagen isn’t going to wash itself!” a voice calls from the other side of the garage, interrupting their conversation.
    “I need to go inspect the gear anyway,” Arthur says, shoving Merlin in the direction of the krankenwagen while he goes to Mitmachen Leon Von the feuer truck.

Part 50: link