Merlin: The Loneliest Hour

Chapter 15: Arthur meets Hope

Chapter 15: Arthur meets Hope

It was a grey and foggy day absolutely horrible for horseback riding.  As soon as they were out of Camelot, the road became muddy and slippery even though it wasn't really raining.  After one hour, Arthur's boots, the back of his coat and his pants up to his waist were covered in mud, which wasn't improving his brooding mood.

The Crossroads Inn was known all over the kingdom for being a hideout for thieves and thugs and all other kinds of scum.  The place looked like a farmhouse on top of which another farmhouse had dropped. The second storey was uneven and toppled over on one side, balanced only by a thick thatched roof with no windows.  The air around the inn smelled putrid and the man who took Arthur and Lancelot's horses was even more fowl. The prince was not even surprised when a heavy body fell at his feet as he pushed open the wooden door.  He merely stepped aside to allow the drunken man to roll over head first into the mud, after which the thug began to wretch horribly.

"Charming," muttered Arthur under his breath.

Lancelot shot him a reproachful look.  They were undercover; therefore Arthur had been warned to try to use the vocabulary of a commoner.  This was something he had done before – in fact, he had used anonimity with Merlin on many occasions – but he wasn't in a playful mood and the experience so far was less than enjoyable.  What he really needed (besides a bath) was something to stop his mind from spinning. He kept seeing the look of disgust on Hunith's face and hearing his own disbelieving voice repeat over and over the words that were now haunting him: Merlin was my cousin.

"My friends!"  Gwaine cried out cheerfully as soon as Arthur had stepped through the threshold.

A stout woman in rags suddenly stepped in front of the prince.  She looked at him up and down and then she smiled through crooked teeth.

"I think I'll have you instead," she said while putting her arms around his neck.

Lancelot's hand was on her before Arthur could even think of a polite thing to say.

"Drinks would be nice," said the young knight, pulling her aside so that Arthur could pass.  "Nothing more."

"Fine," she said between clenched teeth, and then she stormed off.

Gwaine was brushing the crumps off a wooden stool which was nothing more than a log.

"Artie. Lance, " Gwaine said casually.  "Join me."

He leaned far back on his stool and he almost fell off it, which caused him to burst out laughing.  A few of the men who were sitting by glanced around to glare at Gwaine, but after a quick appraisal of Arthur and Lancelot's dirty and messy appearance, they quickly returned to their business.

"Nice mud you got there, Lance.  Is this the new fashion in the upper town?" snorted Gwaine, a broad smile on his face.

"Apparently," mumbled the knight.

The filth on the table was so horrible that Arthur thought about it twice before putting his elbows in it, but he did it anyway after he received another scolding look from Lancelot.  Really, now where is Merlin when you really need him?  The words had come to him quite naturally and the wave of memories that followed was almost too much to take.  He was therefore glad when the maid in rags came back with two tankards of mead. He gulped down his as fast as he could.

"That's the spirit," cried out Gwaine, clapping him on the back.

Arthur spat out a mouthful of mead, which only added more filth to the table.

"This is disgusting," he cried out.

"It's not so bad, actually," observed Gwaine.  "It's just not as fancy as what you're used to, princess."