He gently kneels down and shakes her arm. “Summer? You’re gonna get cold out here.” He speaks softly.
“I don’t really remember much of what happened when I was blinded by the magic. I only know of what I was told from Merlin and Gaius. I know I hated my loss of control. But if you are going to go and wait till the magic passes or get someone to get rid of it for you, where are you going to go?”
“Arthur!” God, he wasn’t listening. Why wasn’t he listening? “I. Cannot. Stay. Here. I don’t know where I’ll go. Away. Far away.” She started to reach out for him, and made herself stop. “The spell didn’t take, but if I’m here they will just try again.”
Why won’t you just let me go?
Arthur slumped back into his seat; he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. In response to Summer’s words he could only nod. “I can’t stop you if you want to leave, Summer. You know very well that I can’t. So if you are going to leave, there’s nothing that I’ll say or do to stop you. You have to do what’s best.”
She leaned her head against the wall and began to laugh, a strange strangled sort of sound. “You are the /only/ person who could stop me, my lord, you are the king. You could have me locked up, or killed, and nothing I could do or say would save me. If you ordered me to stay, instead of pleading, I would have no recourse other than to obey you.” The expression on her face was a tangled mass of conflicting emotions as she approached him: part desire to stay, part terrible determination, part broken heart.