Merlin: The Loneliest Hour

Chapter 20: Merlin is back

Chapter 20: Merlin is back

“Are you feeling any better?"

"Hmmf-fine," mumbled Merlin as he stuffed another piece of bread into his mouth.

He was eating as though he had never  eaten in his life.  Despite the awful mead (only Arthur and Lancelot seemed to agree about that) and the dirt, the Crossroads Inn had terrific food.  The innkeeper turned out to be a lively fellow, about three times Arthur's weight and completely bald, going by the name of Dragonet which was making Merlin snort in suppressed laughter every time he heard it.  Regardless of his terrible name, Dragonet was a great cook and he had also organised quite a fight against Morgana's assassins.

"I can't believe we're here again," muttered Lancelot while pushing away an untouched tankard of mead.

Gwaine had already gulped down two pints and a generous amount of salted pork.  He kept glancing tearfully at Merlin and patting him on the back every few minutes.

"He looks happier now," said the innkeeper as he was bringing another plate of sausages and cheese.  "Begging your pardon, Sir Merlin," but I was beginning to think you were a ghost."

Merlin almost chocked on his roast tomatoes.  "I'm not a Sir," he blurted out.  "No nobility whatsoever.  Sorry, Dragon..." He couldn't finish the sentence and he turned away to hide his large smile.

But then something strange happened.  Arthur gulped down his disgusting mead so fast that even Gwaine stared.  Was Arthur hiding something?

"That's the spirit," said the innkeeper.

“Where would we be if it weren’t for you, Dragonet?” Gwaine said appreciatively.

The big bald man merely shrugged and sneered.  “You’d be dead.”

“Are you sure you know who you’re talking to?” said Merlin with a grin.

Lancelot and Gwaine simultaneously clapped him on the shoulder in reply.

Merlin’s mind was slowly getting back into place.  He knew his name and the name of the knights around him; he knew that Arthur was a prat and that Gaius was still checking his pulse every few minutes, but he still didn’t know what he was doing at the Crossroads Inn.  The other thing that he couldn’t explain was why his magic felt like it could burst out of him at any moment.

He was absorbed by this thought when he noticed that Gaius was staring at him with eyes filled with tears.  He had Merlin’s hand between his but he wasn’t taking his pulse anymore; he was just holding it as though it was something precious.

“Why is everyone looking at me like that?” Merlin let out, trying to sound cheerful.  “It’s not like I was dead or anything.”

Gaius shifted in his seat and Arthur gulped down another tankard of mead.

“You don’t remember?” Lancelot inquired.

Merlin shook his head.  “It’s coming back slowly.  I was some other place, but I wasn’t dead.”  He tried to sound as convincing as possible. “It was like being inside a dream, but a good dream, for the most part.  I was… happy.”

An image of Freya burst into his mind.  He could see her dark hair, her smile, her eyes, and her lavender dress blowing in the wind.

“Then… why did you come back?” asked Lancelot, ignoring Arthur and Gwaine’s painful expressions.

“I heard a voice,” Merlin said truthfully.  “It was telling me that I had things to do.”

“Probably Arthur telling you about your chores, then,” Gwaine replied with almost what Merlin perceived as a snort.  “I can’t believe you brought him back by telling him about making your breakfast and mucking out the horses.”