Wishful Thinking - Merlin [Under Construction]

This Ain't a Good Time

     Merlin and Arthur headed downstairs, where the innkeeper's wife, Laine, was waiting for them with bandages, a wet rag, and a healing balm. "Sit down here." She patted the long bench upon which she was sitting.

     Merlin sat down gingerly, staring at the ground.

     When Laine saw his wounds, she narrowed her eyes. "These are torture wounds."

     Arthur cleared his throat. "Yes, we are aware of that, and I'm sorry if it took you by surprise," he said, not rudely, "but Merlin's wounds need treatment, or they'll become infected."

     Laine seemed slightly embarrassed. "Of course."

     Merlin made eye contact with the woman. "Thank you, madam."

     "Oh, it's nothing. I'm happy to help." Laine looked flustered.

     "Still," Arthur continued, "Few would demonstrate such kindness to a couple of strange, ragged men."

     Laine laughed nervously. "You're still people. Rich or poor, old or young, we all have the same right to live."

     Merlin smiled. "You and your husband are good people."

     The woman's face flushed.

     Someone began walking downstairs; their loud, heavy footsteps thudded down at a fast pace. Other sets of feet sounded behind the initial one, blending together.

     Merlin quickly wrapped a blanket around his torso, protectively. His head throbbed at the noise.

     Arthur was suddenly and uncomfortably aware of his lack of sword and armor.

     The person who entered the inn's sitting room was a groggy-looking, extremely large man.

     Merlin and Arthur spoke simultaneously. "Percival!"

     Percival's eyes widened. "Oh my god! Merlin! King Arthur!"

     Laine's eyes went wide. She bolted up from her seat. "What? King!"

     Merlin nodded, with a smile on his face. "I'm afraid so."

     Laine's eyes bulged to the point that they looked as if they would pop out of her head. "My lord!" She curtsied, then ran off to the kitchen. "Edward!"

     "Knights!" Percival called up the stairs. "Get down here!"

     One by one, the knights entered the room, and, one by one, the friends were reunited.

     Being the last one to get downstairs, Gwaine was last to see Arthur and Merlin. The knight was ecstatic. He hugged Merlin, causing the warlock to cry out in pain.

     Gwaine eyed Merlin's sheet. "She hurt you."

     "Gwaine, it's fine. I'm fine."

     The knight gritted his teeth. "I'm going to kill her," he declared.

     "I'm fine, they're just scratches," Merlin reassured Gwaine and the other knights. "Besides," he said, looking down, as to avoid Arthur's eyes, "she's already dead."

     The knights' jaws dropped.

     Lancelot's eyes widened, and he looked at Arthur.

     Finally, Arthur figured out what he should have known from the beginning. Everything suddenly made sense: Lancelot's hesitancy in giving Arthur information about Emrys, his concern toward Merlin. The king was suddenly feeling exacerbated.