Thaumaturgy

Chapter 4

The sun broke in the sky the morning after Beltane. Gwaine staggered slowly down the street, back to the inn, hair scruffled and spiked with twigs after a night spent sleeping off the village's portent cider in a gorse hedgerow. A distant blackbird tweeted a song of disapproval, dulcet notes hitting the outlaw's skull like a sledgehammer. He groaned and shielded his eyes before swinging the inn door open.

Morning Gwaine!" called MErlin in a sun bright voice. It beirced Gwarin' skull like a jousting lance that splinter and split through Gwaine's skull on impact. He groaned like a bear and gave Merlin a dark look.

"How come you aren't hangover?!" He asked offedned but MErlin just wriggled his fingers at him.

"Like magic" He said cheekily and Gwaine ground ludly.

"Where are you going?!" he asked Merlin. The other man heald up a bucket.

"Water for mum." Gwarin nodded and went inside the coole soothing shade of the inn. Merlin set off once more the for the well in the centre of the village to pull some water up on the rickity winch to take back to his home. When he got to the well he saw broad shoulders and blonde hair: Dirk was already there, pulling up his one water. Merlin waited his turn gladly because it meant he could watched the strong muscles in the other mna's back move as he pulled p the heavy bucket from the deep cavern of water. He was mutch quicker as he was able to pull the bucket back up with magic which made it much easier. Dirk did not acknowledge Merlin at all, evn when they both walked off in the right direction as each other. Eventually the weight of the flowering silence to become heavy and cloying with the blacksmiths derosion. So MErlin spoke:

"What's your problem?!" He exploded scowling. Dirk didn't look at him.

"You." he barked shortly, without moving his eyes, he picked up his pace to try and speedily outwalk the trailing thief.

"Me?!" Merlin crie, offended.

"You." The other man repeated i the same tone, not caring for Merlin's offense.

"What have I done?!" Merlin asked glaring at him in outrage.

"Your a theif. You and your no good robber friends need to stay away from my sister!" He said and addjuted water bucket he carried making water fall over the side with a sound.

"And youre a...a..prat!" Merlin stammered blushing similar in colour to that of a tomato. He caught up with Dirk, standing in front of him so he couldn't move further down the dusty beige road that he already was.

"Lancelot's not a thief. He's a good man." Merlin insisted defending his close friend with a fierce loyalty that burned through him like a wildfire rvavishing the woods in the arid summer that Ealdor got. Dirk rolled his eye cyically.

"A good man who makes his living steeling? Who runs with a bumch of out laws? Who has no home and no prospect? Whos good for nothing and assocciates with people like you and womanisers like that Gwaine? What's he going to do to my suster: Gwen?!" Dirk was shouting in Merlin's face now standing up to up to his full height in an attempt to cower the other man. His anger echoed around the empty village morning streets, riquetting off the low buildings through the hungover village.

"He's not a thif" Repeated Merlin, voice calmer than the waters of the Lake he swamp in as a boy, slightly amused at the blacksmith's ire: and wanting to wind him up more. Merlin went to turn away from the handsomely annoyed blond man, who growled in frustation and in a fit of peek. Merlin smirked, unable to resits a parting shot he called over his shoulder cheekily:

"You need to cool down, mate," and got some water from his bucket with his magic and splished it in his face, feeling victorious. He turned away but heard Dirk gasp of shock. Feeling pleased with himself Merlin went towards his house but was taken by surprise when suddenly it felt like he had been hit by a freight train around hid mid riff. He went flying and landed in his mothers pig sty with a heavy weight on top of him, soaked to the skin with the water from his bucket he had got from the well.