Chapter Text
When the first sausage had disappeared from his breakfast spread, Arthur just assumed Merlin had snuck off with one on his way out. When the second and third sausages disappeared, Arthur wasn’t so certain. It wasn’t like him to eat so quickly he forgot what he’d had; that he’d just imagined having extra sausages seemed equally unlikely.
Then came the scuffling. He first heard it while behind the changing screen. His back had been to the dining table only a moment before that dry scraping noise broke out. Yet nothing appeared out of place when Arthur whipped his head ‘round the screen. Nothing save, under closer inspection, a bread roll, rabbit haunch, and several grapes. A divot had also appeared in his porridge, though he wasn’t really feeling the loss there.
As Arthur was ducking his head beneath the table, looking for food or clues, something clattered at the room’s far end. He whirled around and caught some blur of motion sweep behind his desk. Though small, the dark shape had been too large for a rat and smaller than a dog. Probably a cat, then.
Arthur approached the desk in a slight crouch, planning to catch whatever animal it was unawares. Careful to keep his tread silent, he lunged around the desk, dropping into a wide squat with arms outspread- only to find nothing there.
“What?” He uttered just as another blur shot out at the edge of his vision. Following the movement, he turned to see his bedding flutter at one corner where it spilled over the side of the bed, as if something had run under it. Sly creature must've snuck away while Arthur was focused on the desk. But he was not one to be outsmarted.
Right. If the thing was under his bed now, it'd want to run towards either the door or table, both in roughly the same direction. What he'd do is feign flanking the bed from the same side the animal had entered from, but then actually be on the other side as it was flushed out. Then it'd be a trivial matter to scruff the thing and have a servant release it outside the citadel.
To his mind, Arthur had executed his plan flawlessly. And yet, when he leapt beside the bed, landing in a low crouch so he could peer beneath it, the animal was nowhere to be seen. He swore and frowned. Where in the Hell is that fu-
Suddenly, a sharp clanging noise erupted behind Arthur. Small mercy that no one would know how badly he’d startled, knocking his head against the bed frame as he bolted to his feet.
The first thing he saw was the metal tray and porridge bowl teetering on the stone floor. Second, he saw the last of his morning meal- a beautifully roasted turkey leg he’d been especially excited for- in the maw of a fox.
A fox.
On his dining table.
With his food in its mouth.
The last hollow wobble wobbles of the silverware settling on the floor died out as Arthur and his guest stared at each other. It was large and scrappy, with long inky legs and a coat the richest crimson Arthur’d ever seen on an animal. Keen honey eyes held his unflinchingly, without a trace of fear or repentance. As if it had every right to be there.
Arthur was filled with so much indignant rage he could hardly contain it. Foxes were hardly seen skirting Camelot’s farmland, let alone within the citadel. How one’d managed to make it so far as Arthur’s chambers was beyond belief. Albeit here a fox was, staring back at him behind a hunk of meat the length of its own legs.
He couldn’t help it. He charged at it, shouting “Damn you!”
The fox sprang out of range easily, leg still in mouth. By ducks and turns, it led Arthur around his chambers in a mad scramble, letting out strings of high pitch hee-ah hee-ah hee-ahs that he swore was laughing. This only drove Arthur to greater frustration as he failed to corner the pest again and again. When he slipped on the porridge bowl, sending himself and its remaining contents into the air, he knew another strategy was needed. A bath would be needed too he figured sullenly, recovering from where he’d fallen on his ass. The bowl had landed on his head, but spiraled in the air beforehand, so as to splatter most of his person in chunks of congealed oats.
I am going to mount you above my fireplace Arthur vowed from the floor, and make you watch me eat my every meal . The fox simply stared at him from the opposite side of the room. Gloating, he thought.
There was no shame in admitting when he was outmatched- or at least when some help would greatly ease the task in front of him. You brought hounds to a fox hunt for a reason, and although he wasn’t about to let his own loose in his chambers, Arthur did have a certain dogsbody in mind.
With an eye on the fox, he made his way through the antechamber and out the door, locking it behind him. Then he set out after his useless manservant.
“Merlin!” he hollered, ignoring every sympathetic grimace someone made as he stormed past them. Really, as if the idiot were the one having a shite day.
“How come it didn’t work out between you and Arthur-” Merlin started from the other side of the chamber before catching Gwen’s eye. “Only if you don’t mind me asking.”
“No, no it’s fine,” Gwen waved her hand and walked over to him. “Here, you want to put these flowers in between these larger ones.” With perfect sweetness she slipped between Merlin and the table to rearrange every flower he had put in the vase. Her own work pleased her, so she took the basket from Merlin too.
"Actually, would you mind wrapping those ribbons around the bedposts, please?”
“Sure.” Merlin spun to his left looking for the decorations. “Are you sure you need my help?”
“Yes, sorry,” Gwen smoothed the skirt of her dress then gestured to a wooden case nearby.
It’s edges were worn soft though simple floral engravings along the lid had stayed crisp. Merlin angled it experimentally in his hands before lifting the lid. Inside were a row of fat ribbons nestled neatly together.
“I’ve never decorated her room before, not like this,” Gwen confessed while clasping and unclasping her hands. “It’s not too bold do you think? Morgana’s just seemed so troubled lately and I thought this might cheer her up. Not that she needs to be happy all the time but- oh, careful please, Merlin.” She crossed over to Merlin and had him place the box down. Merlin placed his free hand over hers and dipped his head.
“Morgana adores you, Gwen. I’m sure she’ll adore this too.”
Gwen let out a breath and smiled. “Right, thank you.” Giving him a pat on the arm, she stepped back towards the bed.
“These are yours?” Merlin asked, raising one of the spools. It was a warm yellow velvet in fair condition considering some parts where the pile had rubbed off. From a glance he’d guess the other ribbons were made of silks and linens.
“My mother’s,” Gwen beamed. “And her mother’s before, but I think that’s as far back as it goes. My grandmother was a seamstress and would make these with whatever scraps she had. We’d throw them up around the house for celebrations.”
Merlin nodded, considering them closer while dragging a stool over to the bed. He hoped the significance wouldn’t be lost on Morgana. Merlin himself only had an inkling to it. No one was more generous with their affections than Gwen, but this was the first time he had seen her so sentimental.
“So,” he tried again a little less innocently, “you and Arthur? He didn’t make an ass of himself did he?”
Gwen shook her head but continued sprinkling petals over the pillows and blankets. “He was so sweet,” she cooed, “but I got the sense there was someone else.”
The spool jumped from Merlin’s hands. He fumbled desperately to catch it but instead sent it flying towards Gwen’s head.
“Careful, Merlin!”
“Sorry, sorry!” As he accepted the ribbon from Gwen, Merlin scoured his memory of the past few months. No nobility had visited, he was sure. “Well he’s daft if he thinks he could do better than you.”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s about better or not,” Gwen chided. “In another life we might have been together. But as it is, someone else has caught his eye.”
“How can you tell?”
“He was always a bit distracted when we were together. Not in a rude way, obviously,” Gwen amended when she caught the offense on Merlin’s face. Adjusting the petals individually, she continued. “Sometimes he’d complain about this person, but you could tell he was conflicted-”
“You know who it is?” Merlin interrupted, leaning forward from the post. “You have to tell me, please.”
“So you can torment Arthur?” Gwen booed. “It’s only my suspicion, really. Even if I knew it still wouldn’t be my secret to tell.”
That was a fair point, to which Merlin could only sigh. They continued working in silence for a moment before Gwen pressed her lips in a thin line.
“You know what the funny thing is though?” she mused, drawing her mouth downward to suppress a smile. Merlin shook his head. “I don’t think he’s even aware himself.”
Merlin groaned and hit his head against the bedpost. Tiptoeing around feelings Arthur knew he had was a pain, but an oblivious Arthur was like blundering through the armory with your eyes closed.
“I’m going to be dealing with the brunt of this, aren’t I?” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. Gwen’s eyes rounded brightly like she had only just weighed this herself. Her mouth dropped open in a smile. Before she could laugh, Merlin closed the one eye he had been peering at her with and dragged his forehead against the post.
“Probably!” she twinkled with enough delight to make Merlin suspicious.
“Morgana’s ruined you.”
“I’m sure Arthur will tell you when he’s figured himself out.”
Merlin knew the line Gwen was drawing so he tried a different angle. “But you’re okay? You don’t sound like someone who’s just been rejected,” he ventured, feigning interest in decorating. Gwen snapped her head down and smoothed the front of her dress.
“That’s because,” she began slowly, “I was not.”
Merlin sat against the footboard and gave the ribbon one final toss around the bedpost. “You broke it off?” he said, impressed.
“He really has no clue,” she explained while joining Merlin at the bed’s end. “Besides.”
He waited for her to continue but she only stared at her hands, brows knitted. A thought came to him then as he took in his friend, the flowers, and the ribbons. Crossing his arms, he turned towards the door, back to Gwen, towards the door, then back to Gwen. “Oh, Lady Morgana-” he greeted no one. Immediately Gwen bolted off the bed, whipping towards the entrance. When she saw no one, she clenched and unclenched her fists between deep breaths.
“You can’t do that, Merlin!” she cried, turning to him. The smile he wore was all cheek and knowing. “What are you grinning for? Merlin stop-” she grabbed his arms briefly then wrung her hands. “You can’t tell anyone. Please, Merlin, promise me.”
“I promise,” Merlin relented, dropping his arms. He placed his hands lightly around her shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have-”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t. Merlin, I know you like to play matchmaker but you have to leave this alone. For me. Please.”
Matchmaker. Merlin didn’t play matchmaker. “I just like to see my friends happy,” he insisted.
She fixed him with a look equal parts fond and skeptical. Before Gwen could say anything further, however, Merlin’s gaze shifted again to the doorway. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped to the side in one motion.
“Really Merlin, I’m not falling for that twice-” Gwen cut herself off at the sound of someone’s soft gasp. She whirled around to see Morgana, stunning and stunned, looking around the room wide-eyed.
“Gwen,” she breathed. “Did you do all this?”
Now that the decorating was complete, Gwen and Merlin could take stock of their handiwork. Bouquets of wildflowers crowded the table, windowsills, desk, and dresser top. Along the walls and bed ribbons hung as bunting. The room was awash in pastel pinks, yellows, blues, and violets, all bobbing by the spring breeze. Sunlight welled up outside, spilling into the room and warming the air. Cool shadows swayed beneath the flowerheads, dancing with the rays of light which shifted over them. Morgana drifted further in as if moved by the same rhythm. When her eyes finally returned to Gwen, her quiet awe grew.
“Beautiful,” she murmured. Gwen was radiant.
Merlin took this as his cue to leave, offering a short bow to Morgana and a farewell to Gwen. The two women drew closer, facing each other with hands entwined. Merlin stopped just outside the doorway to catch Gwen’s eye over Morgana’s shoulder. He winked at Gwen, who’s face soured at him instantly. With a chuckle, he ducked out of the room before he could catch Morgana’s ire too.