Merlin Blame it on the Alcohol

Blame It On The Alcohol

Spring time was the best time in Camelot as far as Elizabeth was concerned. The trees were budding, the birds were singing, and the early-blooming flowers were showing their bright colors. It seemed like the whole Kingdom was thawing out after the winter. True enough, the people were happier and distributed smiles generously. Even now, when all hands were busy with work in preparation for the holiday.

Elizabeth hadn't the faintest idea why she was stringing the corridors with ivies and beautiful, white blooms. Frankly, she didn't care. All she knew was winter was over and it was spring and spring was always followed by summer, her favorite of all the four seasons. But for the moment she was just enjoying the mindless busywork and occasional glances through the windows to the awakening world beyond.

All the day while she worked, sweeping and cleaning and hanging vines and flowers she hummed to herself contentedly. The servants in the castle hadn't yet warmed up to her completely. They shied away from her conversation whenever she attempted, only giving the courteous amount and then politely excusing themselves or letting the topic drop. None of this was out of disdain of course; Elizabeth counted herself to be slightly intimidating. She credited her foreign accent for that and did her best to cover it up whenever in public. She also held a slight scowl when resting her expression. And she never did get the hang of the sense of humor. And sometimes her words would get mixed together and what she'd mean to say would come out completely different-_"I'm so sorry to hear your father is ill,"_ becomes: _"I feel your father's sickness,"_ and that just doesn't sound right to anyone.

So the servants kept a wide berth from her, thinking her either odd or soft in the head. Well, the vast majority of the servants. There were a friendly and understanding few who gained the young woman's friendship. One in particular was Prince Arthur's manservant, Merlin, with whom she could commiserate on her menial duties to her Lady Alexandra. But she hadn't seen the skinny kid since that morning when she was gathering her lady's breakfast. Elizabeth shrugged it off easily, knowing just how busy one could become when under the thumb of royalty. Speaking of, she had yet to hem her lady's dress, and her shoes required polishing, plus she needed more books from the library which she was afraid to venture into alone...

Lady Alexandra adored the Easter holiday. Of course, lent for the forty days previous had been quite arduous (she had to give up her tea!) and she was very happy that was over. Besides that though, she found the whole story to be inspiring. Also the feasts were legendary in Lerasia. If there were any period of time Lady Alexadra remembered most fondly, it was the Easter holidays spent in her castle with her father and his courtiers. The long, heavy tables would be moved to encourage meaningful conversation, the tops of which were always decorated lavishly with ivies and blooms and gold ornaments and little things whose only purpose were to decorate. The crystal chandeliers always seemed to glow brighter and the wine flowed like water from a brook winding lazily through a hollow of trees.

Then she was lucky to remember the rest of the evening without a thick haze of alcohol coloring the whole event.

She was understandably excited to see just what Camelot could do for the holy occasion. Their borders outreached Lerasia's by far, their wealth much greater. But she knew, with a smug smile adorning her red-painted lips, that nothing could surpass the celebrations provided by her home. Alexandra supposed she could count herself as biased but she didn't care at all.

She looked around her room, taking in its stark grey stone walls and stained windows. The oak of the four-poster frame was smooth under her touch, lacking the familiar divots and gold inlay that wound around her own bed so many days' travel away. The red curtains and fabrics of Camelot were so different from the delicate blue of Lerasia. Everything here seemed to be the opposite of her mountainside kingdom. She tried to shut out the thoughts invading her mind to no use. She knew where they would inevitably drift to: her sick, ailing father and the war he was fighting while she was so far away, under the protection of Camelot's great power. Alexandra couldn't recall a time in her life when she felt more useless.

The door to her chambers opened abruptly and she quickly blinked back the oncoming tears. It was Elizabeth, apparently finished or through with helping the other servants prepare. The woman held a bright smile on her face. Spring time always made her so happy. Alexandra had to admit, her servant's smile was a bit infectious. "Good afternoon, my lady. Shall we begin to ready you for the celebrations this evening?" Elizabeth's accent hung thick on every syllable, the heavy sort of thing that came from lower inside than any person of Albion. It made her _r_'s fade into her throat and replaced them with a subtle _w_ sound. Alexandra knew her servant was dreadfully self-conscious of her foreign manner of speaking and could appreciate Elizabeth's throwing away her act of a 'normal' speech pattern around those she could trust. As far as Alexandra knew, she was one of four people on the list of trusted individuals, two of those being Elizabeth's own parents.

Alexandra smiled in response, "If you're ready and willing, Lizzie, then let's get at it."

Under the light of the setting sun, the feast commenced. It was a grandiose thing, with many rare and delicious meats and sweets and fresh fruits. There was duck, suckling pig, poached quail eggs, figs, dates, peaches, cakes, pies, and sweet rolls. And there was enough to go around. It took no more than a second after the prayer and short speech from the King before the hall erupted in conversation and laughter. The wine and ale flowed freely, with Elizabeth and other servants attending assigned nobility. Elizabeth couldn't count how many times she'd refilled her lady's tumbler, with the conclusion being Alexandra insisting the pitcher just remain at her elbow. Elizabeth threw a look filled with amusement and laughter to Merlin. He stood across the room from her at Prince Arthur's shoulder, who was also imbibing his share of alcohol. Merlin reciprocated the glance.

A half-hour in and the servants were dismissed to their own meals, as the nobility were past the point of caring about appearances. Merlin sat next to his mentor, Gaius. The old man was enjoying his spirits as much as everyone else. Everyone except Merlin; the young man held no taste for the beverages, instead he spent his evening sipping lightly at plain water. He found it very amusing to watch as those around him slowly released their inhibitions and subsequently made fools of themselves. It was all in good fun, of course. Then again, he thought as he watched Elizabeth begin to sing raucously in her native tongue around her few servant friends who only laughed and tried to keep up, maybe holding these things against a choice few people would work to his advantage.

The night wore on and a handful of the few sober servants were busy cleaning the now empty hall. Merlin himself was meandering his way to his room, exhausted from having to deal with so many drunken people. If he had to listen to another joke about his neckerchief, he was going to strangle someone with it. His feet were heavy as he turned a corner. Only a corridor more and he'd be falling into his own bed and drifting into a hopefully peaceful sleep.

He found himself comforted by that thought. It was quite rudely and abruptly interrupted by a hand darting out from the darkness and snatching a hold on his jacket. He yelped in a decidedly unmanly fashion and was immediately hushed by his would-be captor. "Shh, Mr. Merlin! You will awake the whole castle." Elizabeth giggled girlishly, not releasing the hold she had on his jacket. She was cradling a large, half-full cup to her chest.

"Elizabeth," Merlin peered down at the young woman who took the cup to her lips, somehow missing her mouth and spilling ale down her chin. They both jerked back to stay out of the worst of the liquid and she giggled, wiping at her chin with her sleeve. "What are you doing?"

"I am drinking, Mr. Merlin." She looked up to him with shiny eyes, sloshing drink out of her cup with a grand gesture. "What do I look to be doing?" Suddenly her face lit up, "Merlin, you have seen the sky tonight?" With her grasp of the language failing and her full, unbridled accent, Merlin had to work to understand her slurred mess of a sentence.

"I haven't had the chance." He pried her fingers from his coat, hoping to end this quickly and head to bed. She only gripped his hand and began to drag him along, spouting things in a mix between her native language and gibberish.

Elizabeth dragged him to the top of the wall surrounding the castle, where she triumphantly released his hand and pointed heavenwards. Merlin's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him. The night was cloudless, perfectly clear. It was also lit up like nothing he'd ever seen before. Every star seemed to shine brighter than the one next to it, creating an otherworldly luminescence. Some stars gave off a colored glow of blues and reds and light pinks, sticking to some sort of haze in the heavens above, wisping across the black canvas of night sky, dotted with innumerable glittering diamonds. The moon as well played a part in the display. It was just beginning to wax, with only the smallest sliver of bright white disc gone from its face. The whole scene was breathtaking. One wouldn't need a torch on a night like this. The light provided by the astounding astronomical exhibition gave ample illumination.

"It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Elizabeth's eyes were also affixed to the sky above. Her cup was still clutched to her chest even though their rough tromp through the halls had made sure to empty it for her. She smiled and looked up to her stargazing companion. "Do you know the story of the lovers in the sky?"

Merlin shook his head, "I can't say I do."

Elizabeth turned her gaze skyward and pointed, "Do you see those stars there? The ones that make the line? To the left of those is a constellation called _Die verlorenen Liebhaber_. It means 'the lost lovers' in your tongue." She slumped down against the low wall, not caring how the rough stone pressed sharply into her back. Merlin followed her, pulling a knee up to his chest and looking to the sky, trying to find the stars she spoke of. "I heard this story when I was very young from my Da. He used to tell me stories all the time, Merlin. He was very good at it." She shivered from the cold of the night, exhaling a puff of steam and continuing the story as she pressed close to Merlin for warmth. He tried not to think anything of it; she was drunk, after all. "The legend says that a long time ago, there was a village in the hills. It was not a large village by any means, and the people had to work hard to harvest the crops every year. In this village there was a man who made himself rich from the other villagers' work. Everyone knew he had evil ways, but no one was brave enough to oppose him, as he could kill a man with the snap of his fingers." She snapped her fingers and looked to Merlin. He looked back patiently. "The rich man had a daughter. She was the most beautiful woman any man had ever laid eyes on, with flowing hair the color of wheat and eyes deep like the sea. But no man dare court her because her father could kill a man with the snap of his fingers." She looked to Merlin pointedly. He was confused for a moment, then slowly raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Elizabeth smiled, pleased.

"Then one day a young man came to town, the son of a merchant or some such thing. He was brave and strong and the moment he and the rich man's daughter caught each other's eyes, he knew he had to have her. The townspeople warned him that the rich man would kill him and that he shouldn't try to pursue her. But he ignored them and one night he snuck to her window and they began to talk. They talked and talked nearly until the sun came up. But he had to leave before her father awoke, or he could possibly die.

"The two continued to talk during the nights and hide away during the days and quickly they fell in love." Elizabeth had a far-off look to her face, like she was remembering something she had seen with her own eyes. Every twitch of her lips that brought forth another word seemed to come from a well deep inside. Merlin found himself fascinated. "They planned to leave during the darkest night. So he stole her from her window and they ran to the woods. Unfortunately, her father had known of them being together and immediately gave chase with hounds and men. The two lovers hid in the woods, trying to stay away from the dogs and mercenaries. But they were drawing closer and closer. So the young man decided to draw them away. He told the woman to stay where she was and he would return for her in just a few minutes' time. Then he left, gathering the attention of the people chasing them. And the maiden waited. And waited. And she waited for hours, but he still did not return. She was afraid that the men had found her lover so she disobeyed his order to stay and began to look for him. She did not know that her lover had been struck down by the men chasing them. Three days later, the rich man still had not found his daughter, even after scouring the woods, roads and surrounding villages many times. On the last day, his men found her body in the very same spot where her lover had died; she herself had fallen to hunger."

"That's really dark." Merlin shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Eizabeth shushed him sharply.

"I'm not finished yet!" She cleared her throat and snuggled in closer, pointing to the sky. She was resting her head on his shoulder and he hoped she wasn't close enough to hear his heartbeat begin to quicken. "The legend says that the man's grief over losing his daughter was so great that he paid the gods themselves all his wealth and worldly possessions to commemorate her in the sky. But because they knew he was evil and kept his own daughter from happiness," she gave a sly smile, "they put her lover up there with her, to be with him forever."

"Wow," said Merlin, unsure of what to think of the story. Then he turned his head down to look at her, teasing, "That's still pretty dark."

"I come from a dark people, Merlin." Elizabeth had pretty much curled up against him as far as she would go in an effort to beat the cold. She smiled, "That was actually one of the happier endings. There is a different version where the rich man has them eaten by dogs. I don't remember what the moral to that one is, though." She yawned and buried her face into his neck. "You are comfortable." The dry cup finally slipped from her grasp and she threw her arm across his chest, beginning to fall asleep.

"Elizabeth," he tried. She only murmured in response. "Elizabeth you can't sleep on me. At least not here." Merlin moved to remove her arm and she let out a whine which only grew as he disentangled himself and stood. She slumped over and looked up at him pitifully. Merlin sighed, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

The trip to Elizabeth's room had been difficult and frustrating. She refused to be any help at all, switching back and forth between being dead weight and deliberately trying to throw Merlin off balance. She even stole his neckerchief and placed it around her own neck sloppily, doing her best worst impression of the young man. But despite her finest efforts, the pair found themselves at Lady Alexandra's chamber doors soon enough. "All right, Elizabeth, here we are." He reached for the door handle and she playfully smacked it away, giggling incessantly. "Elizabeth," he groaned, tired of her antics. She muffled her laughter into his arm and he successfully opened the door on his second try.

The room was nearly pitch black. The only light filtered in through the windows on the far wall, casting everything into a pale shade of blue. Lady Alexandra was sprawled on the bed, the sheets half tossed away, sleeping deeply. Merlin looked pointedly to Elizabeth and firmly pressed a finger to his lips. She mimicked him with a cheeky smile. They crossed the room, with Elizabeth intentionally making as much noise as she could and perhaps unintentionally tripping over the edge of the rug, but finally Merlin pushed open the door to the handmaiden's quarters and released his supportive hold on her.

She flopped onto the bed and it let out an incredibly loud creak. Merlin cringed and she laughed, stifling it with both her hands. He stood awkwardly just beside her bed before turning and beginning to leave, anxious to remove himself from her smirking, half-lidded gaze, "Well, good night."

"Merlin," she called softly after him, causing him to pause in the doorway. She was sitting up now, something he had thought her incapable of for the rest of the night. The beam of moonlight from her small, square window cast a glow about her. "Thanks for getting me to bed all right." There was an intelligence in her eyes that suggested she'd never been drunk after all, like she had been pretending for some unknown reason. What came out of her mouth next dissolved that notion, however. "And don't tell anyone, but I think you're cute when you're frustrated." She fell into giggles again and Merlin shook his head, trying to force down the creeping blush dusting his cheeks. He exited Lady Alexandra's room silently and tried to keep her words from repeating over and over in his head. That part he couldn't quite succeed in.

She was dead. That had to be it. There was no way a living person could be in this much pain and still be alive. Alexandra groaned loudly, stopping short when the sound reached her ears and caused a sharp pounding in her skull. She raised her hand to cradle her head and the movement caused her stomach to churn dangerously. The door to Elizabeth's room opened slowly and Alexandra opened her eyes just as languidly, appreciating the fact that her handmaiden had the curtains tightly drawn so as to keep all the light out. She looked over to the brown haired woman and noticed she was carrying a pitcher of water over to Alexandra's waiting hand. It was like a desert in her mouth.

"Good morning, my lady." Elizabeth always had a way of dealing with a hangover. She still absolutely, one-hundred percent felt the effects; she just carried herself with more grace in the situation than Alexandra was capable of.

Alexandra sat up slowly, drinking the water given to her in greedy gulps. She observed her handmaiden, noticing that she still wore her dress from the night before, albeit it was disheveled and undone in quite a few places. Alexandra wasn't surprised. She herself had barely made it out of her own death trap before quite literally falling into bed. What surprised the lady was the article of clothing tied around Elizabeth's neck. Alexandra stared and stared at it. Finally setting her cup on the bedside table, she asked the question, "Why are you wearing Merlin's neckerchief?"

Elizabeth blinked at her lady, confused. She wasn't-oh. So she was. She rested a hand on the red material and tried to recall the night before. She couldn't at all. "I have no idea, Alexandra." She cast a long look to her bedroom and as subtly as she could, sidled back over and checked to make sure her room was as empty as she had thought it was when she awoke. Elizabeth pushed open the door and indeed, there were no living souls to be seen. She returned to Alexandra's bedside, "Well, now I have no idea."


End file.
