Pick up the Pieces

In which Merlin plays matchmaker.

Kitty O

It was the whistling which drew Thomas's attention.

He was sitting in his one-room home, painstakingly working on the table he was trying to piece together, when he heard it: the sharp, musical whistle to the tune of a brazen tavern song, growing closer.

He grinned, standing up immediately and making his way to the door. Opening it, he smiled at the man coming across the dirt road of the town, a large brown dog at his heels.

"Hey!" he called, waving and leaning against his door frame. "I see you got tired of taking your life into your hands and decided to come back."

The skinny man, a little tanner than he was last time Thomas saw him, smiled back. "Of course I did! I said I would!" He came up to the door. "Besides, there was no danger."

"Course not," Thomas sniffed. "Walking back into Camelot like you weren't banished on pain of death; how could that be dangerous? Who is the dog?"

"This is Dragon," the dark-haired man said. "Dragon, this is Thomas. Thomas, do you mind if he comes in? He's very attached to me."

Thomas eyed the dog warily. "If he knocks one thing over, you both go out in the dirt," he warned without feeling.

The warlock laughed and stepped inside, the dog following. "I was technically banished on pain of death," he said. "But not publicly. The whole thing was very private. Minds can be changed!"

"You're a sorcerer," Thomas said. "'On pain of death' is understood, Merlin. No one changes their mind about that."

"I have friends in high places," Merlin said, taking a seat on a chair by Thomas's table, and petting Dragon when the dog's head was immediately laid in Merlin's lap.

Thomas rolled his eyes. Merlin said that sometimes, but he never did explain to Thomas how he, a sorcerer, had gotten caught in Camelot but not been executed. Thomas was the only person in town (a small place near Camelot but firmly outside the borders) who knew about the warlock, officially anyway (everyone else just didn't say anything about it), and so he couldn't even speculate with anyone else. He had to draw his own assumptions—currently, he was thinking that it was because Merlin was something special, and there was no one really like him.

Thomas started to go back to his table, but then Merlin spoke up. "So," he said. "You didn't break it, did you?"

Thomas started. "Sorry," he said. "Your bow and arrows. I forgot. No, it isn't broken… Here, it's under the bed." He went and retrieved the contraption, handing it to Merlin, who looked delighted. "I got you some new arrows," he said, "since I used quite a few."

"Ah, thank you," Merlin said. "I'm glad to have Elsie back."

Thomas cocked his head. "You've named it Elsie? Why?"

Merlin tapped his finger on the bow's wood and slung the arrows over one arm. "Because," he explained, "it's sharp, smart, and keeps my hide safe. So, did they help you? Did you get it?"

"I did," Thomas said, smiling. "It was a buck, a little too near the village. That's what was tearing all of Annemarie's garden up."

"And was she appreciative?" Merlin asked, leaning forward.

Thomas gave a sideways smile.

"So you're courting," Merlin guessed.

The smile flickered and sank.

Merlin sat back with a sigh. "You didn't ask her, did you? For heaven's—"

Thomas held out a hand suddenly for silence, standing up as he heard footsteps. "Someone's coming," he said, looking to the door as he heard a knock.

"Hello?" a soft feminine voice called from the other side.

Thomas nearly tripped over himself as he nearly flew to the door, opening it so fast Merlin was afraid he was going to hit himself with it on accident. "Annemarie!" he said with a huge smile on his face. "What brings you here?" he asked, running his hands through his hair.

She held out her hands. "I brought you a pie. I had some extra sugar lying around. And I know how you like apple pie. It's a thank you, for the buck. Papa doesn't mind!" From where he sat, Merlin snorted quietly. He was a servant. He knew how much sugar it took to make a pie, and he'd been friends with Gwen long enough to know that it wasn't too easy for peasants to just have "extra" lying around... Annemarie had obviously been saving.

"Thank you, Annemarie," Thomas said shyly, taking the pie. "Would you like to come in?"

"Oh, I suppose I should be heading back home… Oh! It's a dog." She immediately came inside, smiling softly. "Merlin!" she greeted the man as he stood. "You came back!"

"Got tired of Camelot's lands," he said, as if that would ever happen. "I missed you."

"And you brought a dog," she said as Dragon lifted his canine head and went straight for her, sniffing her hands. "He's precious. What's his name?"

"Dragon," Merlin said.

She rubbed the dog's ears enthusiastically. "Dragon? Oh, aren't you a sweet dog. You sure don't act very ferocious for something named Dragon."

"I named him that because he's an ugly mutt," Merlin said affectionately, and then laughed at his own private joke.

She tsked as Dragon left her and made a beeline for his master. "Where did you get him?"

"His old master died," Merlin said. "I have a soft spot for strays."

"Won't you sit down?" Thomas asked Annemarie, coming forward nervously, as though afraid she'd say no.

She bit her lip. "I really can't stay long."

Thomas looked so crestfallen that Merlin intervened. "But you need to stop and tell me the gossip before you go," the warlock said. "No one else is reliable in this town."

That caught her. She sat down in a chair which Thomas had just made recently, and Merlin took his own seat again. Thomas just crouched by the table, working, but his ears pricked and his eyes were continually straying to her. He was the sort of man who could be happy just being in the presence of his beloved, and that made Merlin roll his eyes—he'd put up with too many of Arthur's moods over Gwen to have much patience for that sort of thing. Especially with people who didn't know how lucky they were to still have their beloved where they could be seen…

But then, Merlin couldn't bring himself to mock Thomas for it. Because it reminded him of Lancelot, and Merlin still missed Lancelot.

"Well," she said. "A couple of people keep insisting they saw a dragon flying around, and of course we get those from time to time, passing through, but this time it was people in the town. Weird, isn't it?"

"Strange," Merlin muttered. "People think of the silliest things when they see a large bird." He patted Dragon's head casually, trying not to smirk.

"Yes," she said. "Nothing much is happening, though word has it that the baker's wife won't talk to him since she caught him flirting with Sally." She quirked her eyebrows and laughed. "As if the baker could figure out how to flirt! My older sister tried to get him, you know, but he was much too oblivious. Oh, I almost forgot. The queen of Camelot is pregnant."

Merlin sat up straight. "Queen Guinevere? She's going to have a baby?"

Annemarie nodded, glad of his reaction. "Yes, she's going to have a child. Hopefully the king's, of course…" She raised her eyebrows.

"What does that mean? Of course it's her husband's!" Merlin snapped, a little too fiercely, but Annemarie didn't seem to notice.

"I don't mean to be indelicate," she said. "But we heard some interesting things about her before the marriage, that was all. And you know what they say…"

"It's his," Merlin said, and this time the sureness in his voice silenced Annemarie. "I've known Gwen since she was just the blacksmith's daughter. She's the soul of nobility and completely decent."

"You know the queen?" Annemarie gasped with petty fascination, completely unashamed of herself. "What is she like?"

"I knew the queen," Merlin corrected, shaking his head. His petting of Dragon was becoming more forceful. "Apparently. She could have sent me a message!"

Thomas, who was currently wondering if Queen Guinevere was Merlin's "friend in a high place", commented, "Does she know where to find you?"

Merlin blinked and shrugged, and Dragon relaxed when the stroking of his fur returned to normal levels of pressure. "Probably not," he said. "Well, dammit—"

"Merlin!" Thomas cried, sitting up suddenly. He glared at Merlin and then looked at Annemarie, who was halfway turned away, pretending to be too genteel to notice Merlin's slip.

Merlin smiled. "I apologize, my lady," he said, a little over the top as always. "I've been on the road too long."

She smiled thinly.

"Anyway," Merlin said, since Thomas didn't look appeased and Merlin didn't want to be challenged to a duel or something ridiculous by a besotted man with delusions of knighthood. "She could have at least tried to find me! I guess I'll just have to go to her then!"

"In the heart of Camelot?" Thomas laughed. "You're joking."

Merlin looked at him. "No," he said. "I'm not. I'll just have to leave Dragon in the stables."

"Merlin, you're a sorcerer. Even if the penalty for magic isn't always death anymore…" Annemarie said, abandoning the policy of not-asking-not-telling that the rest of the people of the town had adopted. She couldn't shut up anyway. "How will you get in to see the queen without being seen?"

Merlin grinned and leaned back. "I'm sure it will be an epic story, involving bribing some knights and fistfights and jealous husband-kings. I'll come back and tell it to you."

Annemarie laughed. She had a nice laugh, as always. Then she stood. "I should be running," she said. "Enjoy the pie!"

She stood and made an awkward little curtsy towards Merlin and Thomas, before blushing and literally running out the door.

Thomas watched her go like he was a puppy abandoned by his master.

Merlin had a high tolerance for silliness. He'd used the abandoned-canine look several times. It even worked occasionally. But what he didn't have patience for was crippling shyness.

"I'll be leaving for Camelot soon, then," Merlin said, standing and pushing Dragon away. "I'll spend the night here, unless you kick me out. Dragon can be tied up outside."

"That's fine; take the blankets in the corner. I want to finish this tonight, though," Thomas said from his work.

"Good," Merlin said. "Now, I'm going for a walk. And by the way, if you don't announce your intentions to her by tomorrow, I'll probably take your place."

"Ha ha," Thomas said, obviously under the impression that Merlin was kidding.

Merlin hit the door forming an easy plan that would allow him to finish up here and head to Camelot to hug Gwen and bother Gaius about her safety. He was also thinking that he'd have to get that annoying little muzzle that annoying woman, because hadn't she practically shouted that he was a sorcerer? Who else was she going to end up shouting that too?

Oh well. It would probably come back to haunt him. Most things did.

Merlin was out of town by noon the next day.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," Annemarie said to him in the market that morning, as he told her what he wanted.

"Come on," Merlin said. "You want Thomas to court you, right?"

"Why do you say that?" she asked, blushing.

"Because I know how much sugar it takes to make a pie. Trust me, he's shy. This will enrage him right out of that."

"But it's so inappropriate."

"Only for me, so what do you care?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, looking sadly at Dragon. "I can't."

Merlin looked up. "Oh, look, there's Thomas."

"Do it!" she squeaked.

Merlin grinned and came forward so fast that Annemarie jumped, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her before she could say another word.

She pulled away in planned protest. Merlin didn't let her go, but she mumbled in complaint.

Merlin was starting to wonder how long it was going to take before…

A hand grabbed him by the collar and dragged him away from the gasping and a bit mussed girl, and a fist slammed into Merlin's face, definitely bruising his cheekbone as he went stumbling back and fell over Dragon, who woofed as though he didn't like to be crashed into.

Merlin shook his head dizzily and looked up to see Annemarie clinging to Thomas's arm possessively, everyone staring, and Thomas looking at him murderously.

"Is everything cleared up now?" Merlin asked without preamble. "May I leave town without worrying about needing to return and set things straight again?"

Dragon ambled up to his master and licked where the bruise was forming.

Merlin smiled at the mutt. "I'm getting old, Dragon," he said. "I have as little patience as my own master these days."

Arthur heard talking in Gwen's chambers, and thought it sounded rather familiar, so he stopped and poked his head in after knocking.

Gwen looked innocently at him from her bed, her stomach starting to swell. She was fully dressed, but reclining, blinking too much. And there was an empty chair next to her.

"I thought I heard talking," Arthur said.

She smiled. "Oh, yes, dear. I was talking to the baby. I think he likes to hear his mother's voice."

Arthur froze, immediately suspicious. Gwen's voice wasn't that high. "Was he talking back?" he asked. "Because a voice sounded male."

Gwen's eyes filled with tears that only a hormonal woman could pull from no where. "You don't believe me?" she asked, sniffing. "You think I would lie to you, my liege?"

Arthur only laughed. He trusted Gwen, he really did. Even so, if he heard male voices in her rooms most of the time, he would be very cautious and unsure. Except, some voices belonged to some males he knew posed no threat, and he knew he could trust them.

"Of course not," he said. "It must have been a trick of my mind. I apologize, my love."

He started to leave, but then stopped and looked back. "Even so, Guinevere," he said. "Should you ever decide to entertain company I wouldn't approve of, and should he hide, say, under the bed when I come in, you might want to tell him not to leave his staff in the corner of the room when he dives for cover. Goodnight, dear. Have a nice chat. And if you see Gwaine, tell him I'm considering a new policy of blaming him for all security breaches."

He left Gwen sitting silently on her bed, smirking a little at him.

And as he went, he smiled.

And they thought he was unobservant!

A/N: I am SO sorry for not updating in so long! SO sorry! In my defense… Okay, no defense. I'm a horrible person. But on the bright side, three chapters left! Originally I planned to make it longer, but decided three would definitely get down the idea—of Arthur trying to prove something to himself.

Tune in for the next chapter: In which Arthur has nothing to do with it.

To be followed by: In which a sorcerer is defeated.

And then the last chapter: In which a sorcerer is saved.