"Who are you?"
"T-Thomas, my lord."
"Where's Merlin? I want Merlin."
The queen froze before quickly forcing herself to put on the mask ruling required. "You may go, Thomas." The servant fled.
Mithian sat down beside the king and tentatively clasped one of his shaking hands.
"I need Merlin," he insisted. "Where is he?"
"He's not here, my lord."
That just seemed to agitate the king further. He frowned at her. "Gwen?"
"No," she said gently. "Mithian. Remember?"
He doesn't. She pulls herself away gently and and went to the door. An old knight, scarred and long since retired, was passing.
"Percival, tell the prince that his father is unwell today. He'll have to handle the petitions."
A nod. Mithian brushed back her graying hair and went inside.
Arthur had knocked over the water pitcher. The desk was soaked. "I need to tell him something. Need to tell him I'm sorry. I never told him."
She swallowed hard. "He know, my lord. He knows."
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Merlin Headcanons
Fanfiction. . . As well as theories, drabbles, and rants on ships.
