Who. Gareth Evans and Ava Prince. What. Gareth works his magicky-wagicky mojo to help bring Ava back to decent health. When. Tuesday evening. Where. Camelot Castle. Warnings. It's Merlin and Arthur. S for snarky banter?
Gareth had only known Ava Prince for a few weeks now. He would have liked very much to say it was simply some kind of physical attraction he held for her, or maybe even something entirely less complicated - for example, perhaps they were simply acquaintances brushing each other's shoulders on the street. But Gareth and Ava were not in lust, nor were they mere passerby. They were destined. They were fated. They were, well, two sides of the same damn coin. It was because of this that it didn't matter whether he'd only known Ava for a few weeks, or even a few seconds. He knew that this was where he needed to be.
Right where she was.
When he'd heard Sally's message, he stopped strumming and placed his guitar on his back. Nothing else mattered. He knew it, and Merlin knew it. This girl was more important to him than he had yet to properly comprehend. It was his every instinct to go without a moment's hesitation, and that was exactly what he did.
Upon his arrival at the castle, he'd asked everyone to clear out of what used to be Arthur's bedroom - a place he knew Merlin was well acquainted with - where they were keeping Ava. Gareth had done Merlin a favor by dragging his book with him under his arm, and now it was up to the wizard to try and fix this. He took his guitar from his shoulders and set it up in an armchair that was still warm from the last body watching over Ava, before setting straight to work.
It took several hours - six to be precise, but before Gareth could so much as complain about the time, Merlin gave him back the reins and told him it would only be a matter of time before she was up again. She was not yet cured, nor would she be without the final touch from Nimueh, but she was alive, and soon she would at least be able to open her eyes. "There you are, then," he said hardly above a hoarse whisper, stroking his fingers through a soft curl and down the flesh of her cheek. "Told you I'd fix you."
Gareth sat himself down in the armchair, guitar spread out in his lap. His long legs were tossed over one of the arms, and his fingers were back to planning out what sounded like a work in progress. While he hummed to the forming rhythm, his eyes rarely left Ava's face. They always said he'd find his muse when he least expected it. Gareth quirked a brow, grinning to himself.
One thing was for certain - he certainly wasn't expecting it.