The Speechless Sea

Chapter 8

As the night dawned and the moon hung low over the sea that Merlin watched from his window, he sat nervously on his bed fidgeting with his fningers - he'd eventually got out of the bath and dressed, the heavy luxurious clothes felt strange on his skin, smooth like sea kelp but heavy - it was reassuring, ike the preassure of the ocean around him. He gulped in nerves. Worry danced through him like a bumble bee, flitting from flower to flower, never still or at peace. One burning doubt was seared into his brian, the fear that the prince would be impossible to woo without conversation.

He stood and brushed an imaginary piece of flint off of the creamy silk midnight blue shirt that had been delivered to his room, along with a pair of black breaches and long black boots that hugged his new leggs like a lover in an embrace. He gave himself an appraising look in the glass that was propped on his dressing table and ran a brush through his hair, made fluffy by the soft bergamott of the bath.

He nodded sharply, pooling his fear into a little ball he stored in his stomach and turned about on his heel and paced out of the room decisively towards the banquet and his golden prince.

As he approached them along the stone corridor of the castle, the great grand doors opened before him and his eyes immediately sort Arthur - he found him immediatrly seated at the table his golden hair gleaming in the vast candleight. Their eyes met and Arthur's fce broke with a warming smile. He was the only one present at the moment and he stood and came over to Merlin.

"You look wonderful. Not that you didn't anyway but sails are not usually the most uh, flattering if garments. I uh...Please sit!" Stammering adorable Arthur held his hand out to gesture towards a seat at the table - opposite to where he had been sat. HE lead Meriln over and pulled out his chair for him, chilvalrously pushing it in before taking his own seat. The pairs' eyes gazed into each other, the air static as though they were on the precipice of potential.

The table between them was spread with so many things, things MErlin had seen (he had a small collection of the odd tridents and knifes), and things he had never seen - some kind of display in the middle of the table of round purple objects bunched together with some brightly colours seeweed. He poked it.

"They'll be bringing out the food shortly, once Father arrives. I've had cook prepare a bit of everything, because I didn't know what you liked." the prince explained, nervously. When Merlin had walked fraily into the banquest hall Athur's heart had flown a loop-the-loop in his chest, like a biplane maned only by one person, the other seat going spare and longing to be inhabited by the scrawncy ivory man. The blond prince let out a deep breathe as he watched the other look around wide eyed, as though this were his first banquet. Arthur supposed it was.

With another load creak the doors opened once more and a stweward accounced

"The king!" Both men stood, and as MErlin looked towards the door where the grand figure of the king swope in, his heart stopped in his throat. He knew that man. He knew his face, his profile, the crown atop his steely hair.

Uther. His fathers sworn enemy.

"Arthur. My son," smiled the king, his smile like a shark- dark and toothy with a glint of tricksey macile. Merlin's eyes widened and his heart cracked a smidge, he breathed heavily and tried to disguise his wildly panicked eyes. Arthur glanced at him, kindly, assuming he was awed by the figure his father cut; imposting and caprisoned from his head to his ten toes in ornamental black. The only colour was the gold of his everyday singlet and the evil gleam of his blue and brown eyes.

"I see you have bought a young man to stay. What is his name?" he asked, his voice like sapphire, and his eyebrows arched in politeness. Merlin could feel the disapproval he disguised.

"Merlin, father." Arthur said, his tone soft and his eyes sparkling with a twinkle his father caught.

"Hm. So you're quite over your....mystery beach person now." Uther, the king, clipped back. He looked at Merlin, his eyes roaming up and down the lanky frame shortly.

"Well the thing is-" Arthur started, while his father was still looking.

"And a good thing too. Those fish-men will do anything to take my crown - anything! Repulsive creatures. Savages lead by a savage king." he jowled in ire.

"Well, as you can see. Merlin is a man." the prince explained, rolling his weight on to the balls of his feet as he faced up to his dad.

"I can see that, I'm not blind. Do you ever talk boy?" asked the king, as he took his seat at the dining throne, taking a long swill of the goblet of ruby wine that his well trained servant had appeared to pour the moment his bottom hit the chair. He stare at Merlin expectantly. Merlin, for his part, shook his head and performed his complicated gesture to indicate that he could not speak again.

"You can't speak? No matter. Better to be quiet in....your positin." he smiled in a way that didn't quite meat his eyes as the servants brought out heaving platters of fish and meat, cooked wood grouses and plaice adorned with crispy gleaming vegetables and foods Merlin had never seen before, let alone name. Arthur saw his amazed expression and smiled kindly.

"Like I said, I wasn't sure what you'd like best." Merlin gave him a grin so wide, it made him seem simple minded as he reached his long arm across the table and squeezed the prince's hand briefly in thanks before settling in to pile his plate high and try all the foreign foods that had been prepared in his honour.