Born For This
A Merlin Story

Characters: Arthur Pendragon, OC
Genre: Adventure, Friendship
Rating: K+ (for violence and mild language)
Summary: King Arthur rode with his Knights to the rescue of a small village, many miles away. Then someone rode to his rescue, and the once and future King finds himself indebted to a young girl with secrets that his father would kill her for.

Hope you like it – leave me a review with your thoughts! (Anonymous reviews are accepted).

~Arthur POV~

"Come on, Merlin, what is taking you so long?" I sighed in exasperation as I pulled my horse up to wait for my abysmally slow manservant.

"I'm sorry, but this is the slowest horse in all of Camelot! Not to mention I'm loaded up with all of your spare outfits!" Merlin snapped at me in his typical indignant (and rude) fashion. He has got to be the only person in Camelot who talks of me, and to me in such a way. Well, the only one who is still alive, at least.

"That's no excuse…my armour weighs a ton, and do you see me complaining? No, you don't. You're just pathetically weak." I snorted. He irritated the hell out of me, but you can't deny he's a good worker. I suppose it sort of makes up for the impertinent comments.

"I have brains, you have brawn. I have to make up for your lack of smarts, AND carry everything you're too lazy to!"

"It sounds as though you just called me stupid, Merlin. You do realise that I'm the King of Camelot and I could have you beheaded for being so rude?" Merlin rolled his eyes, and I decided to try a different tactic. "You say your horse is the slowest in Camelot?" He nodded uncertainly. "Well then…" I drew my sword and hit the flat of it across the mare's hind quarters. She neighed in surprise and took off at a gallop, leaving my (not so) poor manservant clinging on to the reins for dear life. I laughed and cantered after them, my Knights following behind.

Two hours later…
My sword smashed against the masked man's armour, and I roared in frustration. I lunged forward, only to have him block my every advance. Every time I moved in for the kill, he parried the blow! My head was ringing from where he'd hit me with the hilt of his sword, but that only made me more furious. Our swords clashed again, drawing sparks and he pulled away.

"Fight back, you coward! Fight back!" I shouted in anger as he blocked another blow.

Two days before, we'd received word that a group of raiding barbarians were ransacking all the villages in the shadow of the mountains. They were good people of our Kingdom, and brave – several of my Knights hailed from these parts. We rode immediately – I took only our best warriors. And Merlin, of course, but he doesn't count. He always seems to just hide in these battles, and appears afterwards looking as knackered as I feel. So we rode for the mountains, and saw the trail of destruction the raiders had left. Finally, we had caught up with them, and by God, were they strong fighters. They fought dirty, and violently. The Knights of Camelot would always go for a clean strike that would kill quickly, and as painlessly as possible. We had a sense of honour, which these barbarians clearly did not.

The man I was fighting suddenly changed his tack. He lunged forward, but instead of making contact with my blade, he flung his heavily armoured arm around my throat. I gasped automatically, and he started tightening his grip. I was becoming lightheaded, and knew I had to disarm him…quite possibly literally…and I had to do so fast. All thoughts of honour out of my head, I elbowed him hard in the gut, causing his grip to loosen. While he groaned, I twisted out of his hold, clutching his arm as I not-so-gently brought my knee up to his...err...manhood. He groaned, automatically doubling over. I powerfully snapped my fist forward, making contact with his nose; breaking it, and knocking him out. He lay dazed on the floor, unconscious. I scowled down at him, before trussing him up with a length of rope that I found on the floor. He could be questioned in Camelot. I wasn't going to kill a defenceless man. I straightened up, looking around at my men. They were fighting well, and I think we were winning. Difficult to tell. I wiped my forehead, and grabbed my sword from the ground. I heard a whooshing noise, and started to turn towards it.

~Maria POV~

I pulled my sword out of the man I had just killed, and wiped it on his trousers. I had to be professional about it, but that doesn't mean I enjoy killing. I do what I must, and I feel bad about it later. I quickly surveyed the scene, casting a critical eye of the Knights and the raiders. The Knights had honour instilled in them as soon as they were enrolled, and it was their honour that was letting them down. You have to fight on equal terms to your opponent, and if that means fighting dirty, so be it. A man rushed at me, a battle cry spewing from his lips, and I swiftly brought up one of my slightly curved blades in front of me. He ran right into it. Idiot. He fell off my blade and died at my feet. Serves him right! Big, fat, ugly, and too dumb to stop running. I automatically wiped the blood of the sword and then gave a cry of disgust.

"Ewww! Did you really have to projectile puke as you died, and did you REALLY have to aim at me?" I picked at my (now ruined) over shirt, suppressing the gag reflex that came as I got a wiff of the vomit. I sighed, and pulled it off. I still had my undershirt on, which was perfectly decent, if not a little bit flimsy. I discarded the sick-covered cloth, and jumped into battle again.

Two kills later, and I was beginning to tire. I didn't stop – I was well used to working myself to exhaustion and collapsing afterwards – but my reactions slowed slightly. I made my sixth kill of the day, and cast a glance over the other fighters. I saw one straighten from tying a man up…and then just stand there. What. The. Hell. He theatrically wiped his brow and picked his sword from the ground. He was about 10 metres from me, and he was also pretty good looking, I noted with satisfaction. I could see a swelling on the side of his head, and blood leaked from various cuts all over his body. Basically, he was a bit of a mess. I rolled my eyes. There were still more raiders than people fighting them, and he was just standing there. More idiots. I suddenly noticed a man on horseback drawing his bow. Before I had made a conscious decision, I was sprinting over towards the figure still standing there, a plain target to anyone. The arrow loosed from the bow, and I pushed myself harder. I flung my sword out to intercept it, and the sharp flint arrowhead clanged off my blade. The man who'd life I'd just saved swung around, his face a comical image of surprise. I ignored him and jumped up behind the rider. I drew the sharp metal across his throat, and he slumped over the horse's neck. Poor horsie. I pushed the dead body off the beautiful creature, and apologised, promising to clean him up in a minute. I sprang off the beast's back, and landed in front of the knight. His eyes widened.

"What were you playing at? Standing there in your big red cloak – you were a target to any raider worth their salt! Always keep moving, and ALWAYS look behind you!" I stood with my hands on my hips, berating him for his stupidity. "I thought Knights of Camelot are supposed to be smart." I turned away from him, only to have him grab my arm, which was bare now I'd shed my over shirt.

"Thank you. You saved my life, and I am very grateful…" I cut him off.

"Save your gratefulness till you've won the battle. If you keep acting this stupid, I'll have to save your ass again." I moved away from him and started picking more fights.

One hour later…
I sat against the wall of a small hut and exhaled noisily. Today had been a bit of a busy day, especially because I wasn't expecting to fight. I reached behind me and pulled the ribbon out of my hair, allowing it to escape from the plait and cascade down my back. I closed my eyes as I leant my head back against the cool stone. I didn't know how many I took down today. All I knew…and all I cared about…was that I hadn't got taken down. Sure, I'd got a few cuts, and I knew I was going to have some fabulous bruising in the morning, but I was alive. That's what matters.

"Hey." I opened my eyes in surprise at the male voice. I looked up and saw the idiot who I had to save earlier. I wasn't going to mention it, but I'd headed off a few other guys who were going for him as well. Just call me a hero. La di da di dah. "I didn't get a chance to thank you properly earlier."

"Oh please. You mean I didn't give you a chance to thank me properly earlier." I smirked, and he looked surprised. I mean, I suppose I didn't really look like a tough girl or something. I had long(ish) light brown hair that was wavy from all the time it spent plaited. Pale skin with a few freckles, long eyelashes, pink lips…wearing tight leggings and an undershirt, with a jacket resting over my shoulders. And did I mention the sword belt strapped across my back? Yeah, the swords weren't in it, but my two short knives were sheathed on my hips.

"Regardless, I am forever indebted to you. If you ever need shelter, Camelot will gladly give it, and anything else you may require." I snorted. Who did he think he is? I cast a critical eye over him. Blonde hair that was stuck to his forehead with sweat, piercing blue eyes, cheekbones to die for...well fed too, by the looks of his belt.

"Wow, Camelot must be a generous place if its Knights can make that sort of guarantee." I snickered, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, the Knights of Camelot can't make such big guarantees. Luckily, I'm not a Knight." I narrowed my eyes at him quizzically. "My name is Arthur Pendragon..." My jaw dropped and I swallowed noisily.

"You're joking." I said in disbelief.

"No joke. You saved the life of the King of Camelot, and therefore you may claim sanctuary in Camelot for as long as I am King." He knelt down in front of me and offered his hand. I bit my lip.

"No strings attached? I probably wouldn't have been so rude to you if I'd've known..." I shook his hand as I spoke.

"If it weren't for you, I'd be dead, so I can probably ignore some impoliteness." He smiled, standing up and pulling me up with him. I dropped his hand.

"In which case...are Kings of Camelot always so oblivious?" I asked. He tilted his head, confused. "You know, standing there and having a little nap in the middle of a battle? That's just begging to get killed." I stated matter of factly. His eyes widened. "How long have you been King? Actually, no. How long have you been training for battle? Since you were what, 12? I don't know how you've survived this long! Someone must be looking out for you, or you'd have been dead years ago." I shook my head in disdain. He just looked stunned.

"Sire!" A tall and muscled knight ran over looking distressed.

"What, Percival?" Arthur turned from me. I saw Percival looking at me over Arthur's shoulder and I grinned, which threw him a bit.

"It's Gwaine, sire. He's been injured, badly injured. Merlin's with him now, but it looks like..." The knight trailed off, and I could see Arthur's face fall.

"Take me to him." He ordered, and they sprinted off. Curiosity got the better of me and I followed, sliding my swords into the sheaths on my back.

~Arthur POV~

I followed Percival to the small house that was being treated as an infirmary. I immediately saw Gwaine, pain etched on his face as he pressed a hand over the wound in his lower abdomen. I went straight to him.

"How bad?" I asked quietly.

"Just a scratch, Sire..." Gwaine grimaced. I glared at him and looked up at Merlin, the closest we had to a physician. He minutely shook his head, looking pained. I sighed.

"Are there any healers in this village?" I raised my voice so the townspeople could hear me, and a young boy spoke out.

"My father was our healer, but he died last winter. We don't have anyone." I clenched my fists and looked back to Gwaine, whose breaths were becoming shorter and sharper with each passing moment. I was vaguely aware of the girl pushing her way through the crowd, but I paid no attention until she pushed Merlin away from the table.

"What are you doing?" I asked angrily. My knight was dying, there was nothing I could do about it, and I really didn't need this girl mocking me right now.

"Saving his life." She said quietly, meeting my gaze. I was startled by how vivid the colour of her eyes was – the green sparkled in a way I'd never seen before. She rested her hands over Gwaine's, ignoring his gasps of pain. The girl...I didn't even know her name...exhaled slowly and I heard cries of shock around me as her eyes glowed emerald green. The glow continued to her hand and seeped into Gwaine's wound. His eyes widened as the patch of blood that had been steadily growing on his shirt began to shrink, going back into a wound that was obviously healing. Before long, there was barely any blood at all, and the glow faded from the girl's hands. She looked back at me, her eyes still a startling emerald green that gradually faded back into a more natural colour.

"Still willing to offer me shelter whenever I need it?" She asked flippantly.

~Maria POV~

I removed my hands from the knight's body, clinically lifting his shirt to check the wound was fully healed. Not even a scratch. I smiled at him as I dropped his shirt, wishing I could use my gift without the gaining mistrust and hatred. I stepped away from him, looking back at Arthur.

"You persecute all forms of magic, whether they are used for good or not. If I had done that-" I pointed to the now healed knight, who was cautiously sitting. "-in the presence of your father, he would have had me arrested instantly. I wonder if you'll do the same." I cocked my head, waiting. I've had the gift of magic since birth, but I seem to specialise in healing magic as opposed to defensive or offensive. I could use it to attack if I wanted to...but I'm a well-seasoned warrior. I didn't need magic to win a battle. I saw the internal war waging behind Arthur's eyes. "I don't mean you or Camelot any harm. I'm just sick of hiding away. I've been running since I was six years old, ever since one of your father's men saw me heal a horse that I found. Since then, I've been forced to fight my way through life, relying on my sword and charm to get a roof over my head." I shook my head bitterly, waiting for Arthur to decide, wondering if he was prejudiced and ignorant as his father.

"By the laws of Camelot, I have no choice but to arrest you." I sighed, my fingers twitching towards my knives. "However, I am King of Camelot. Today, you have not only saved one of my most trusted knights, but you saved my life too. I request that you come back to Camelot with us as a friend." He smiled, and I blinked uncertainly. "You come with us on the agreement that when in Camelot, you use your...gift...for the good of Camelot and its people." I met his blue eyes evenly, trying to see a trick or trap. I only found transparent honestly. I sighed, seeing no point in refusing.

"I accept your offer, but I am in no way tied to you or your city. I want to come and go as I please, but I will help you in whatever way I can." Arthur nodded and left. I exhaled through my nose, wondering what I'd got myself into. I felt Gwaine grasp my hand in thanks and I smiled at him. I met the eyes of Arthur's manservant and recognised the spark of magic within them. I nodded minutely at him and walked out. I found Arthur by the horse I had claimed for my own, waiting with his arms crossed. I walked over to him.

"Thank you." I said quietly. He nodded, his lips pressed together in a tight line. Clearly, he wasn't as blasé about this as he tried to appear. I took a deep breath. "You should know...there is someone else with magic in your inner circle. I saw it. They mean you no harm, but by granting me freedom, you have inadvertently given them freedom too. I'd expect them to tell you soon." I smiled at him and giggled – he looked like he could be knocked over with a feather. I strapped my bags to the horses back and mounted the beautiful creature.

"Wait, you can't leave yet!" He cried. "You promised you'd come back to Camelot with us!"

"Well, I like to take the scenic route. We'll probably arrive at the same time!" I grinned.

"But I still don't know your name." Arthur pressed, grabbing hold of one of my hands on the reins. I smiled coyly, letting magic seep through his body from my hand and healing all his cuts and bruises. He pulled his hand away quickly as if I'd burned him, not healed him. I shook my head.

"My name is Maria. Maria Le Fay."

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