The Emerald Thief - Merlin BBC [1]

Chapter 14: Order for One, please

Another week passes in a blur, already making my past occupation seem like a distant memory. Gaius teaches me practical work, trusting me enough to look after the primary treatments.

Merlin has been slowly adding to my belongings despite my protests. It's made my room look more like a living space which makes me proud, but, still, I wouldn't say I like that Merlin would spend money on me. I'll soon be earning my own money, and hopefully, he'll allow me to repay him.

I'm glad I made a friend in Gwen who no longer makes sure to keep a preferable distance. She's come to the realisation I won't attack her randomly...again. I spend more time with the servant girl, blending my socialising to talk with my newfound friends. Everyone seems to be acting as if it has always been this way, and I like that because of how easy it has made my transition.

I help sweep out Gwen's house while she goes through a few different cupboards. She has a newfound need to 'spring' clean, as she called it. I offered to help, having never cleaned a house out before. Gwen tells me of her Father, Tom, as she finds an object of his, a different story bound to each item. Tom was Camelot's blacksmith before he made dealings with a sorcerer. Uther had him executed for it even though he meant no harm.

As she speaks of her Father, my mind wanders. I can't help but think about my own Father. Of course, I never knew him, but often I wonder where he or my mother ended up in life. There are many questions about the subject of my parents that I try to forget.

Last night was one of my weakest. I gave into that part of my mind, hunting for my Father's letter in amongst my belongings. I was both relieved and disappointed to find I hadn't lost it. I try not to look at the letter as much as possible, but unfortunately, I can't stop myself sometimes.

Gaius enters through the front door, jumping to the side as I sweep a large pile of dust out the door. I apologise, continuing with my work. Gwen has had many people volunteer to help her clean out unnecessary objects and earn an extra coin or two. Only a few can come for certain amounts of time, myself appearing to be the only person free to help full time.

"Making any progress?" Gaius asks, replacing an old set of flowers with new ones in a vase on Gwen's table.

"Yes, I've already got so much room!" Gwen exclaims excitedly, placing another object in a box full of her Father's stuff. That's the box of belongings she refuses to part with.

"Which box are items to be sold?" Gaius asks, looking around at the many scattered boxes. "I could have Merlin deal with those for you."

"No, not at all, Gaius. I will deal with them myself. Don't you worry yourself," Gwen protests, appearing from the back of her room with a large woven box? She walks over to her large table in the centre.

She turns to me. "These are some dresses I've never worn...they were my Mothers, and I just...don't feel like they belonged to me. I've been meaning to let them go for a long time but never can. They'll do you better, Edythe."

I'm taken back by her proposal, already meaning to protest, "No, I couldn't."

"Please, they're just rotting away here. Besides, you can't just wear that shirt and pants forever," Gwen rebuttals.

Usually, I would be offended by someone commenting on my clothing, but I know she has a point. I don't live on the road anymore. I can allow myself to try and live normally with clothing choices. I've always hated dresses; the concept is so useless. The long fabric always gets in the way in various situations. Although, I can't see in what situation I would find myself thinking that anymore.

Reluctant, I reach for the bland coloured fabrics. The texture is rough but similar to anything I've worn before. I pull out the first dress of two. The gown falls before me, pale green fading into the cream layers. Silver patterned stitching alines the top of the neck. The woman who wore this was a servant, but the dress is well kept despite this. This would be a dress worn on a daily occasion. Cream sleeves run down where the arms should be, quite wavy, despite the rough fabric.