Part 16: link
Guinevere squirms slightly, blinking her eyes open to look at the clock. 3:52. May as well get up, Dad will be here in just over an hour. She twists in Arthur’s tight embrace, finding her body stiff. I don’t think I moved at all. I don’t think he would have let me had I tried.
He is spooned up behind her, his arm tight around her waist, a leg draped over hers. She carefully lifts his arm, expecting resistance, but he allows her to slip out, though not without an incoherent mumble.
Chuckling, she tucks him back in, kisses his temple, and shuffles to the shower.
Guinevere blinks under the bright glare of the light, and flips it back off. Shit. No, wake up. Turn the bloody light back on. She flips the switch again and squeezes her eyes shut, rubbing them. “Okay. Wake up, Gwen.”
How late were we up last night? I kept telling him I needed to go to sleep. Eleven? Midnight? She sighs, holding her face under the hot spray of the shower, smiling as she remembers how sweet he was all night. Romantic. Caring. Attentive. Gentle. Then he had held her in his arms and they talked and kissed and talked and touched and talked until Gwen could no longer keep her eyes open.
She looks down at her toes, a grin spreading across her face now. He really did an excellent job.
Arthur wasn’t content to just paint one color and have done. After choosing a pale rosa to start, he painted a Design with a deeper shade. They look like blume petals, she had sagte to him. Not exactly, but the suggestion of them. He smiled triumphantly at her then, and she knew that had been his intention.
I’m really going to miss him a lot, she realizes. More than I thought I would. Mehr than I have a right to. It’s not like he’s sagte the words yet.
Rinsing her hair, the smell of lilacs lingers in the steam and she feels the suds run down her body. Arthur’s hands, trailing along my skin. His lips, Küssen my body, making me feel like the most beautiful, precious and loved woman in the world.
Gwen steps out of the dusche and dries herself, her thoughts echoing through her brain, rattling back and forth.
The most loved woman in the world…
She wraps herself in her robe, gewand and walks back to her room, where she laid her clothes out the night before.
Most loved…
Probably the fatigue making me think these thoughts.
She looks over at him again, flopped on his back now, snoring. Apart from the hair, I’m sure that’s how he looked when he was a boy, she thinks, smiling. A very mature, muscular, very sexy boy. She remembers how gently, luxuriously, thoroughly he loved her last night, as if she was going away forever instead of just a week and a half.
Gwen bends and kisses his forehead before going out in Suchen of a cup of tee and a slice of toast. While she waits for the kettle to heat, she goes to the tabelle where she has her tickets and other things sitting. On oben, nach oben of her passport sit Arthur’s silver thumb ring and a note.
Guinevere, please take this with you. It’s not much, but I need Du to take something of me with you.
She turns the ring in her hand, gazing down at it.
He does Liebe me.
She slides it on her own thumb. Too big. Damn. Smiling broadly, she quickly strides back to her bedroom and digs into her jewelry box for a chain and secures it around her neck. Then she takes a pair oder her sandals, the pair she was wearing the Tag she met him, and tucks them into his overnight bag with a grin.
Gwen lifts the kettle from the stove just before it starts squealing and pours the water over the small metal tee ball in her cup. The toast pops while it steeps.
4:45. I hate waiting. This kind of anticipation I could do without.
She flips through a fashion magazine while she munches her toast and drinks her tea, her fingers occasionally fingering the silver ring now around her neck, stroking it, turning it. She is excited about going, but her herz is a little heavy nevertheless.
4:55. Gwen pads back to the bedroom, kneels on the bett beside Arthur, and kisses him again, on the cheek this time. Then she lifts his hand and kisses his fingers before standing and retrieving her suitcase, casting one last look back at his snoring form rumpling her lavender sheets. She snickers a little at the sight of him, in all his masculine punk glory, sleeping contentedly in her very feminine bedroom.
There is a soft knock at the door and she scurries out to let her father in.
“He didn’t get up to see Du off?” Tom asks, raising an eyebrow.
“How did Du know he was here?” she asks, blushing.
“His motorcycle is outside, Guinevere.”
“Oh. Yeah. That. Well, if Du must know, I didn’t wake him, and he’ll probably be steamed about it when he wakes up to find I’ve gone. But he’s going to collect my mail and keep an eye on the place while I’m gone. Oh, yeah,” she says, turning away to set her keys out for him.
She flips his note over and writes, “Thank you, Arthur. I’ll be back before Du know it. Be good. Love, G.” Then she sets the keys on the note and grabs her tickets and passport, tucking them into her camera bag.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she says, “You get the suitcase.”
Gwen is fidgeting. This is the worst part, sitting my arsch in the uncomfortable airport chairs, doing bugger all. Too tired to read her book, not hungry enough to buy a snack. I should have taken up knitting oder something.
She looks at the clock. 6:45. She looks at the payphone nearby, the one that has been taunting her since she sat down 45 Minuten ago. It’s not too early now. I’m going to call.
Standing with the camera bag that is her carry-on and will be Schauspielen as her geldbörse for the trip, she goes to the phone and digs out a coin.
After several rings, she finally hears the handset lift and a gruff, confused voice rumbles, “Hello?”
“Good morning, Sunshine,” she says, smiling.
“Guinevere,” he sighs, “you left without waking me up.”
“I know. I didn’t want to disturb you. Du were sleeping so soundly.”
“Your bett is very comfortable. But it’s awfully lonely without Du in it.”
“I did KISS Du goodbye. Several times, in fact.”
“Oh?”
“You were snoring through most of them.”
“Sorry.”
She giggles, and adds, “I’ve got your ring on a chain around my neck.”
“Good. Too big, huh?”
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Guinevere?”
“Yes, Arthur?” He’s going to tell me now, of all times?
“Um… I… I really hope Du have a good time,” he says hurriedly.
Oh. “Thanks, I hope I do, too.” Am I disappointed?
“Tell your brother that I hope to meet him one day.”
“I will. And Du will get to meet him someday.”
“He’s got to make me some dessert, Du know.”
Gwen laughs, and an announcement comes over the intercom. Boarding is beginning.
“Do Du need to go?”
“Not yet. That’s first-class and people with little kids and whatnot. I’m with the riff-raff in coach, Du know.”
“I hope Du don’t get stuck Weiter to someone horrid. It’s going to be a long flight. It would be tragic if Du were Weiter to some huge fat bloke oder a nosy chatty old woman. oder worse, someone like Gwaine.”
“What a handsome, charming devil with a wicked grin and a panty-peeling personality?” she teases.
“Tragic, indeed, that.”
She laughs again. “Don’t worry Arthur. I promised, remember? And besides, I have two thick Bücher with me that I plan on planting my nose into anyway.”
“I remember.”
There is another announcement.
“I probably should go now. Not my row yet, but I should be ready when they call mine.”
“Okay. Have a good trip. I promise not to let your flat burn down oder anything while you’re gone.”
“I do appreciate that. See Du Weiter Friday.”
“I’ll be waiting. ’Bye, Sweet.”
“Goodbye, Arthur. I’ll miss you.”
“I miss Du already.”
Arthur stomps into Excalibur, frowning.
“Good morning,” Gwaine sings at him, noting his grim demeanor.
“Sod off,” Arthur shoots back.
“Ooo…” Phil choruses, biting back her laughter.
“Someone is going to be just roses for the Weiter week and a half,” Gwaine says, rolling his eyes.
Arthur plops in his chair with a humph and takes the Foto of laughing Gwen out, tacking it to the Wand Weiter to him.
“What have Du got there, loverboy?” Gwaine asks, sauntering over. “Oh, nice. When did Du get this?”
“Last night. Her dad got her a Polaroid camera for her trip. She let me take a couple pictures of her.”
“Oh, really?” Gwaine asks, the insinuation clear in his voice.
Arthur reaches up and punches him. “Nothing like that, pervert.”
“You calling me a pervert, that’s rich, that is,” Gwaine laughs, walking away, completely unfazed Von his friend’s punch.
The door to the Shop opens and Merlin comes sauntering in with a bag in his hands. He head straight back to Arthur and drops it in his lap.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“Hopefully it’ll help your mood while Gwen’s gone,” Merlin says. Arthur peeks into the bag, finding it filled with candy.
“Thanks, mate, but Du could put me on an IV drip of straight honey, but I don’t think it would help,” he says, but he reaches into the bag anyway.
“Oh? Well, then, I guess I’ll just take this—”
Arthur quickly pulls it away from Merlin’s reaching hand, hugging it to his chest. “Touch it and you’ll be serving drinks with one hand,” he growls, looking up at his friend’s amused face.
“Thought so. Now. We don’t expect Du to be your usual cheerful self,” Merlin starts. Phil snorts behind him, but he presses on. “But neither are Du allowed to mope around like someone shot your dog. So stop being a dollop-head and act like a human being. oder at least as close as Du come to one, anyway.”
Arthur sighs, opening a Süßigkeiten bar.
“She’s coming back, for fuck’s sake,” Merlin rolls his eyes and heads back out to return Weiter door to the Dragon.
“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur mumbles to his friend’s back.
“What was that?” Merlin turns around, raising his eyebrows.
“You heard me, shitbrain.”
Merlin laughs and leaves.
That evening, Merlin returns to find Arthur walking out the door.
“Where are Du off to?”
“Guinevere’s.”
“Arthur…”
“I’m collecting her mail, Merlin, I’m not going over there to…”
“Have a wank holding one of her shoes?” Merlin supplies, earning him a klatschen, smack on the back of the neck, his defensive hairdo once again saving his head from being a target.
“Shut up. Come along if Du wish.”
They walk in companionable silence for a bit, then Merlin speaks again.
“What time did she leave?”
“Her dad picked her up at five, I think. She called me from the airport.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Woke me up at 6:45.”
“Ouch.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“Drag…”
“What now?”
“Where’s your ring?” he points to Arthur’s thumb.
“Guinevere has it.”
“She took it?”
“I gave it. I’ll get it back when she comes back.”
“Right.”
“No, I will. Merlin, if I’m going to give her any ring, any, um, permanent ring, it won’t be my grandfather’s old silver wedding band.”
“Does she know that it was your granddad’s?”
“No. She would never take it if she knew that it came from my mum.”
“So, what, Du just thrust it at her and said, ‘Here, take this’?”
“I left it with a note on her passport.”
“Coward. Did Du tell her Du Liebe her before she left?”
“What?”
“Drag. Honestly. We can all see it.”
“No, I didn’t. It’s too early. I’ll freak her out.”
“I doubt that.”
Arthur raises his eyebrow at him.
“She hasn’t even blinked at any of your… weirdness. What make Du think she’d get scared away if Du tell her Du Liebe her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s me that’s not ready to say it yet.”
“More likely.”
“You really are a right pain in the ass, do Du know that?” Arthur asks.
“Why, because I don’t put up with your shit and make Du deal with your problems?”
“Yes,” he says, digging Gwen’s key out of his pocket and opening her mailbox. He withdraws a few envelopes from the box, closes it and removes the key.
The two men climb the few steps to a door, when they hear a voice behind them.
“Oh. Um, Arthur?”
They turn to see a petite woman with long dark hair, beautiful lips, and large, soulful brown eyes.
“Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Freya, Gwen’s friend,” she says, walking forward. “You must be getting her mail in for her, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah. I guess I thought I was taking care of that. She never really said, but since I have her spare key…”
“Oh, sorry. I asked, and she sagte I could,” he says, holding up her keys. “Oh, this is my friend Merlin,” he says, indicating Merlin.
Freya climbs the stairs towards them and shakes Merlin’s hand. “Hello, Merlin,” she says.
“Nice to meet you, Freya,” Merlin Antwort as Arthur unlocks Gwen’s door. They all go inside, and Merlin says, “That’s a very pretty name.”
“Um, thank you,” she says, glancing up and seeing a pair of the most shockingly blue eyes she’s ever seen. “It’s Swedish,” she stammers, “it was my grandmother’s name. Except she spelled it F-R-E-J-A.”
“Oh,” he nods.
Arthur stifles a chuckle, setting Gwen’s mail down on her table.
“I don’t know why I thought you’d find that interesting,” she says, looking down and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
“No, it’s great. Very interesting. I like it when names have stories. So you’re Swedish, then? You, um, don’t really look it.”
“My grandmother was. Granddad was Greek,” she laughs. “And everyone since then has had dark hair.”
“Mm,” he says. She knows she is talking complete boring rubbish, but he looks like she is telling him the most fascinating thing ever.
“Merlin is an interesting name,” she says. “Does it have a story?”
“My mom made it up, after her two granddads, Mervyn and Colin. So, Merlin,” he frowns.
“That’s…”
“Interesting?” Arthur provides, using what appears to be the word of the day. His Kommentar breaks the spell that seemed to be weaving around Merlin and Freya, and they both chuckle nervously. Merlin’s pale skin turns slightly pink.
“Um, it was nice meeting you, Arthur, Merlin,” Freya says, reaching for the doorknob.
“Yes, I was wondering when I’d get to meet you, Freya,” Arthur says, smiling.
Wow, he is handsome, she’s right. After the first Minute oder two Du don’t even notice the hair and the nose ring. “I was just hassling her about that on Monday, in fact,” she laughs, glancing again at Merlin, who is still watching her, his blue eyes seeming to see into her soul.
“Um, hope to see Du again,” she says, and heads out the door.
“Me, too,” Merlin says, and he and Arthur follow her out. She goes north; they go south.
The two men walk back to the pub, and Arthur smirks at Merlin. “Who’s in Liebe now, Merlin?”
“Piss off,” Merlin says, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Part 18: link
Guinevere squirms slightly, blinking her eyes open to look at the clock. 3:52. May as well get up, Dad will be here in just over an hour. She twists in Arthur’s tight embrace, finding her body stiff. I don’t think I moved at all. I don’t think he would have let me had I tried.
He is spooned up behind her, his arm tight around her waist, a leg draped over hers. She carefully lifts his arm, expecting resistance, but he allows her to slip out, though not without an incoherent mumble.
Chuckling, she tucks him back in, kisses his temple, and shuffles to the shower.
Guinevere blinks under the bright glare of the light, and flips it back off. Shit. No, wake up. Turn the bloody light back on. She flips the switch again and squeezes her eyes shut, rubbing them. “Okay. Wake up, Gwen.”
How late were we up last night? I kept telling him I needed to go to sleep. Eleven? Midnight? She sighs, holding her face under the hot spray of the shower, smiling as she remembers how sweet he was all night. Romantic. Caring. Attentive. Gentle. Then he had held her in his arms and they talked and kissed and talked and touched and talked until Gwen could no longer keep her eyes open.
She looks down at her toes, a grin spreading across her face now. He really did an excellent job.
Arthur wasn’t content to just paint one color and have done. After choosing a pale rosa to start, he painted a Design with a deeper shade. They look like blume petals, she had sagte to him. Not exactly, but the suggestion of them. He smiled triumphantly at her then, and she knew that had been his intention.
I’m really going to miss him a lot, she realizes. More than I thought I would. Mehr than I have a right to. It’s not like he’s sagte the words yet.
Rinsing her hair, the smell of lilacs lingers in the steam and she feels the suds run down her body. Arthur’s hands, trailing along my skin. His lips, Küssen my body, making me feel like the most beautiful, precious and loved woman in the world.
Gwen steps out of the dusche and dries herself, her thoughts echoing through her brain, rattling back and forth.
The most loved woman in the world…
She wraps herself in her robe, gewand and walks back to her room, where she laid her clothes out the night before.
Most loved…
Probably the fatigue making me think these thoughts.
She looks over at him again, flopped on his back now, snoring. Apart from the hair, I’m sure that’s how he looked when he was a boy, she thinks, smiling. A very mature, muscular, very sexy boy. She remembers how gently, luxuriously, thoroughly he loved her last night, as if she was going away forever instead of just a week and a half.
Gwen bends and kisses his forehead before going out in Suchen of a cup of tee and a slice of toast. While she waits for the kettle to heat, she goes to the tabelle where she has her tickets and other things sitting. On oben, nach oben of her passport sit Arthur’s silver thumb ring and a note.
Guinevere, please take this with you. It’s not much, but I need Du to take something of me with you.
She turns the ring in her hand, gazing down at it.
He does Liebe me.
She slides it on her own thumb. Too big. Damn. Smiling broadly, she quickly strides back to her bedroom and digs into her jewelry box for a chain and secures it around her neck. Then she takes a pair oder her sandals, the pair she was wearing the Tag she met him, and tucks them into his overnight bag with a grin.
Gwen lifts the kettle from the stove just before it starts squealing and pours the water over the small metal tee ball in her cup. The toast pops while it steeps.
4:45. I hate waiting. This kind of anticipation I could do without.
She flips through a fashion magazine while she munches her toast and drinks her tea, her fingers occasionally fingering the silver ring now around her neck, stroking it, turning it. She is excited about going, but her herz is a little heavy nevertheless.
4:55. Gwen pads back to the bedroom, kneels on the bett beside Arthur, and kisses him again, on the cheek this time. Then she lifts his hand and kisses his fingers before standing and retrieving her suitcase, casting one last look back at his snoring form rumpling her lavender sheets. She snickers a little at the sight of him, in all his masculine punk glory, sleeping contentedly in her very feminine bedroom.
There is a soft knock at the door and she scurries out to let her father in.
“He didn’t get up to see Du off?” Tom asks, raising an eyebrow.
“How did Du know he was here?” she asks, blushing.
“His motorcycle is outside, Guinevere.”
“Oh. Yeah. That. Well, if Du must know, I didn’t wake him, and he’ll probably be steamed about it when he wakes up to find I’ve gone. But he’s going to collect my mail and keep an eye on the place while I’m gone. Oh, yeah,” she says, turning away to set her keys out for him.
She flips his note over and writes, “Thank you, Arthur. I’ll be back before Du know it. Be good. Love, G.” Then she sets the keys on the note and grabs her tickets and passport, tucking them into her camera bag.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she says, “You get the suitcase.”
Gwen is fidgeting. This is the worst part, sitting my arsch in the uncomfortable airport chairs, doing bugger all. Too tired to read her book, not hungry enough to buy a snack. I should have taken up knitting oder something.
She looks at the clock. 6:45. She looks at the payphone nearby, the one that has been taunting her since she sat down 45 Minuten ago. It’s not too early now. I’m going to call.
Standing with the camera bag that is her carry-on and will be Schauspielen as her geldbörse for the trip, she goes to the phone and digs out a coin.
After several rings, she finally hears the handset lift and a gruff, confused voice rumbles, “Hello?”
“Good morning, Sunshine,” she says, smiling.
“Guinevere,” he sighs, “you left without waking me up.”
“I know. I didn’t want to disturb you. Du were sleeping so soundly.”
“Your bett is very comfortable. But it’s awfully lonely without Du in it.”
“I did KISS Du goodbye. Several times, in fact.”
“Oh?”
“You were snoring through most of them.”
“Sorry.”
She giggles, and adds, “I’ve got your ring on a chain around my neck.”
“Good. Too big, huh?”
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Guinevere?”
“Yes, Arthur?” He’s going to tell me now, of all times?
“Um… I… I really hope Du have a good time,” he says hurriedly.
Oh. “Thanks, I hope I do, too.” Am I disappointed?
“Tell your brother that I hope to meet him one day.”
“I will. And Du will get to meet him someday.”
“He’s got to make me some dessert, Du know.”
Gwen laughs, and an announcement comes over the intercom. Boarding is beginning.
“Do Du need to go?”
“Not yet. That’s first-class and people with little kids and whatnot. I’m with the riff-raff in coach, Du know.”
“I hope Du don’t get stuck Weiter to someone horrid. It’s going to be a long flight. It would be tragic if Du were Weiter to some huge fat bloke oder a nosy chatty old woman. oder worse, someone like Gwaine.”
“What a handsome, charming devil with a wicked grin and a panty-peeling personality?” she teases.
“Tragic, indeed, that.”
She laughs again. “Don’t worry Arthur. I promised, remember? And besides, I have two thick Bücher with me that I plan on planting my nose into anyway.”
“I remember.”
There is another announcement.
“I probably should go now. Not my row yet, but I should be ready when they call mine.”
“Okay. Have a good trip. I promise not to let your flat burn down oder anything while you’re gone.”
“I do appreciate that. See Du Weiter Friday.”
“I’ll be waiting. ’Bye, Sweet.”
“Goodbye, Arthur. I’ll miss you.”
“I miss Du already.”
Arthur stomps into Excalibur, frowning.
“Good morning,” Gwaine sings at him, noting his grim demeanor.
“Sod off,” Arthur shoots back.
“Ooo…” Phil choruses, biting back her laughter.
“Someone is going to be just roses for the Weiter week and a half,” Gwaine says, rolling his eyes.
Arthur plops in his chair with a humph and takes the Foto of laughing Gwen out, tacking it to the Wand Weiter to him.
“What have Du got there, loverboy?” Gwaine asks, sauntering over. “Oh, nice. When did Du get this?”
“Last night. Her dad got her a Polaroid camera for her trip. She let me take a couple pictures of her.”
“Oh, really?” Gwaine asks, the insinuation clear in his voice.
Arthur reaches up and punches him. “Nothing like that, pervert.”
“You calling me a pervert, that’s rich, that is,” Gwaine laughs, walking away, completely unfazed Von his friend’s punch.
The door to the Shop opens and Merlin comes sauntering in with a bag in his hands. He head straight back to Arthur and drops it in his lap.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“Hopefully it’ll help your mood while Gwen’s gone,” Merlin says. Arthur peeks into the bag, finding it filled with candy.
“Thanks, mate, but Du could put me on an IV drip of straight honey, but I don’t think it would help,” he says, but he reaches into the bag anyway.
“Oh? Well, then, I guess I’ll just take this—”
Arthur quickly pulls it away from Merlin’s reaching hand, hugging it to his chest. “Touch it and you’ll be serving drinks with one hand,” he growls, looking up at his friend’s amused face.
“Thought so. Now. We don’t expect Du to be your usual cheerful self,” Merlin starts. Phil snorts behind him, but he presses on. “But neither are Du allowed to mope around like someone shot your dog. So stop being a dollop-head and act like a human being. oder at least as close as Du come to one, anyway.”
Arthur sighs, opening a Süßigkeiten bar.
“She’s coming back, for fuck’s sake,” Merlin rolls his eyes and heads back out to return Weiter door to the Dragon.
“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur mumbles to his friend’s back.
“What was that?” Merlin turns around, raising his eyebrows.
“You heard me, shitbrain.”
Merlin laughs and leaves.
That evening, Merlin returns to find Arthur walking out the door.
“Where are Du off to?”
“Guinevere’s.”
“Arthur…”
“I’m collecting her mail, Merlin, I’m not going over there to…”
“Have a wank holding one of her shoes?” Merlin supplies, earning him a klatschen, smack on the back of the neck, his defensive hairdo once again saving his head from being a target.
“Shut up. Come along if Du wish.”
They walk in companionable silence for a bit, then Merlin speaks again.
“What time did she leave?”
“Her dad picked her up at five, I think. She called me from the airport.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Woke me up at 6:45.”
“Ouch.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“Drag…”
“What now?”
“Where’s your ring?” he points to Arthur’s thumb.
“Guinevere has it.”
“She took it?”
“I gave it. I’ll get it back when she comes back.”
“Right.”
“No, I will. Merlin, if I’m going to give her any ring, any, um, permanent ring, it won’t be my grandfather’s old silver wedding band.”
“Does she know that it was your granddad’s?”
“No. She would never take it if she knew that it came from my mum.”
“So, what, Du just thrust it at her and said, ‘Here, take this’?”
“I left it with a note on her passport.”
“Coward. Did Du tell her Du Liebe her before she left?”
“What?”
“Drag. Honestly. We can all see it.”
“No, I didn’t. It’s too early. I’ll freak her out.”
“I doubt that.”
Arthur raises his eyebrow at him.
“She hasn’t even blinked at any of your… weirdness. What make Du think she’d get scared away if Du tell her Du Liebe her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s me that’s not ready to say it yet.”
“More likely.”
“You really are a right pain in the ass, do Du know that?” Arthur asks.
“Why, because I don’t put up with your shit and make Du deal with your problems?”
“Yes,” he says, digging Gwen’s key out of his pocket and opening her mailbox. He withdraws a few envelopes from the box, closes it and removes the key.
The two men climb the few steps to a door, when they hear a voice behind them.
“Oh. Um, Arthur?”
They turn to see a petite woman with long dark hair, beautiful lips, and large, soulful brown eyes.
“Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Freya, Gwen’s friend,” she says, walking forward. “You must be getting her mail in for her, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah. I guess I thought I was taking care of that. She never really said, but since I have her spare key…”
“Oh, sorry. I asked, and she sagte I could,” he says, holding up her keys. “Oh, this is my friend Merlin,” he says, indicating Merlin.
Freya climbs the stairs towards them and shakes Merlin’s hand. “Hello, Merlin,” she says.
“Nice to meet you, Freya,” Merlin Antwort as Arthur unlocks Gwen’s door. They all go inside, and Merlin says, “That’s a very pretty name.”
“Um, thank you,” she says, glancing up and seeing a pair of the most shockingly blue eyes she’s ever seen. “It’s Swedish,” she stammers, “it was my grandmother’s name. Except she spelled it F-R-E-J-A.”
“Oh,” he nods.
Arthur stifles a chuckle, setting Gwen’s mail down on her table.
“I don’t know why I thought you’d find that interesting,” she says, looking down and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
“No, it’s great. Very interesting. I like it when names have stories. So you’re Swedish, then? You, um, don’t really look it.”
“My grandmother was. Granddad was Greek,” she laughs. “And everyone since then has had dark hair.”
“Mm,” he says. She knows she is talking complete boring rubbish, but he looks like she is telling him the most fascinating thing ever.
“Merlin is an interesting name,” she says. “Does it have a story?”
“My mom made it up, after her two granddads, Mervyn and Colin. So, Merlin,” he frowns.
“That’s…”
“Interesting?” Arthur provides, using what appears to be the word of the day. His Kommentar breaks the spell that seemed to be weaving around Merlin and Freya, and they both chuckle nervously. Merlin’s pale skin turns slightly pink.
“Um, it was nice meeting you, Arthur, Merlin,” Freya says, reaching for the doorknob.
“Yes, I was wondering when I’d get to meet you, Freya,” Arthur says, smiling.
Wow, he is handsome, she’s right. After the first Minute oder two Du don’t even notice the hair and the nose ring. “I was just hassling her about that on Monday, in fact,” she laughs, glancing again at Merlin, who is still watching her, his blue eyes seeming to see into her soul.
“Um, hope to see Du again,” she says, and heads out the door.
“Me, too,” Merlin says, and he and Arthur follow her out. She goes north; they go south.
The two men walk back to the pub, and Arthur smirks at Merlin. “Who’s in Liebe now, Merlin?”
“Piss off,” Merlin says, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Part 18: link
Merlin 05.07 | Saturday 17 November | 8.05-8.50pm | BBC ONE
Darkness steals into the very herz of Camelot, as Morgana and her puppet Queen hatch a sinister plan to murder the King.
But when stable hand Tyr Seward becomes caught in the crossfire, he threatens to ruin everything… As the plot thickens and reaches its deadly climax, can a suspicious Merlin unravel the truth before it’s too late?
Colin morgan is Merlin
Bradley James is Arthur
Angel – Jäger der Finsternis Coulby is Gwen
Katie McGrath is Morgana
Richard Wilson is Gaius
John Hurt is the voice of the Great Dragon.
Tom Hopper, Rupert Young, Eoin Macken and Adetomiwa Edun return as The Knights of the Round Table.
Special guest John Bradley as Tyr.
Darkness steals into the very herz of Camelot, as Morgana and her puppet Queen hatch a sinister plan to murder the King.
But when stable hand Tyr Seward becomes caught in the crossfire, he threatens to ruin everything… As the plot thickens and reaches its deadly climax, can a suspicious Merlin unravel the truth before it’s too late?
Colin morgan is Merlin
Bradley James is Arthur
Angel – Jäger der Finsternis Coulby is Gwen
Katie McGrath is Morgana
Richard Wilson is Gaius
John Hurt is the voice of the Great Dragon.
Tom Hopper, Rupert Young, Eoin Macken and Adetomiwa Edun return as The Knights of the Round Table.
Special guest John Bradley as Tyr.