Melou of Camelot

By the time light started creeping through his bedroom window, Melou was already cranky. He hadn’t slept and spent the last few hours with a sleeping girl draped over his chest. Normally he wouldn’t have minded that, but if he wasn’t going to sleep, he figured he should at least get out and do something.

“Bri.” He lifted the shoulder directly beneath her. “Move over. Getting up.” His only answer was a sleepy groan and then she snuggled closer. He rolled his eyes. “Come on, move.”

“’s not proper mornin’ yet.” She grumbled in reply.

“Close enough.” He gave her a push. “Go on.”

Briallen made a face and rolled over enough to let him up, stifling a yawn. “Did ye sleep at all?”

“No.” Melou swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched his arms out in front of him.

“Why not? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

Sitting up slowly, she pushed her hair out of her face and blinked groggily at him. “No, yer not. Ye didn’ get no sleep and ye’ve been moody for days now. Been a right bear, y’have.”

“I said I’m fine.” Angrily, he grabbed the nearest shirt and started pulling it over his head. “I have to get to training.”

“Won’ matter if ye miss a day. Ye’ve done it afore and ye need some sleep, a’least.” Briallen crawled to his side and rested her chin on his shoulder. “Come back to bed.”

He brushed her away. “You need to get to work.”

“Been good. I can stand th’trouble from missin’ one meal.” Relentlessly, she tugged at his arm. “Ye need to sleep an’ ye need to relax an’ not worry ‘bout anyone or anythin’ other than ye gettin’ properly rested.”

Melou didn’t move, but he didn’t push her away again, either. “And if I don’t?”

“Then yer gonna hurt someone without meanin’ to, or get yerself hurt.” She spoke gently, reaching over to stroke his cheek. “Stand too close to th’edge long enough, yer gonna fall an’ I don’ want that t’happen to ye.”

He said nothing, shoulders sagging, because dammit, she was right. Defeated, he let her pull him back onto the bed and settled in with an arm around her waist and his head lying on her stomach. It was only a few minutes later, with Briallen humming softly and stroking his hair, that he finally fell asleep.

When Melou is cranky, like he has been for the past few days, he tends to avoid Briallen. She, more than anyone else including Mele, knows how to push his buttons and seems to do it on purpose more often than not.

Today, he's calmed down a bit. His last talk with Angela helped, even though they're still a little awkward with each other, as has sleeping in his own bed again. He also has something specific to do.

Bag over his shoulder, he knocked on the cottage door and entered, without waiting for an answer. As usual.

Melou hasn't slept well the past few nights. It's nothing to do with his dreams, for once, and nothing to do with not sleeping in his own bed. He's used to that by now.

No, it's the baby.

Bri explained, apologetically, that she wasn't normally this noisy, she just wasn't used to strangers in the house. He isn't a stranger, he'd answered, but supposed it made sense. Sort of.

So this afternoon, he makes his way to the little cottage again, if only to tell Bri he'll be in his own room tonight. He doesn't knock this time.

In the days following Pasgen's murder, Melou felt better than he could ever remember. It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders, even if only he and Melehan knew about it. Still, as much as he wanted to think the murder made him no longer a boy, in his mind there was one more thing to take care of, and he'd resolved to deal with it that night.

It had taken forever to convince Briallen to meet him in their usual spot in the stables. May Day was fast approaching and the girls and other servants were caught up in preparations. But she had agreed.

They both snuck out of their rooms late that night and even though she had been angry about how upset he'd been over Melehan and Sulwyn, she relented easily.

Things fell back into routine fairly quickly after that, though Melou slowly tried to push her further than they'd been before. After swatting his hands away for what felt like the hundredth time, she sat up, straw in her hair. "Ye've got to stop."

He looked at her then, really looked at her, pretty little thing she was. Not quite blonde, a good deal shorter than him and already growing into her round, curvaceous figure. Certainly not like tall, thin, dark haired Sulwyn, or even Angela, taller still with the brightest hair he'd ever seen. Just Briallen, and she was all he had.

She looked back up at him, hazel eyes pleading. "I should be gettin' back. If father catches me out I'll get a whippin' but good."

"Not yet." He leaned in and nuzzled her cheek with his nose, a hand at her waist pushing her backwards. She struggled to keep her balance and push him away at the same time.

"I've told ye no." Her voice was bordering on angry, exasperated, and she tried to stand. Melou pulled her back down with little effort and held her tight. He was far stronger than her, and she knew it.

"And I said not yet. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." He told her firmly, though there was an underlying tone indicating he just might if he thought he had to. Trembling, she made no further protest.

Afterward, Melou gently wiped her tears away and helped her make herself look more presentable. He even walked her home, though he doubted she'd ever speak to him again. He didn't care and made his way back to his room silently, smiling the whole way.