Author's note: I was hoping to finish writing this yesterday, but I had exams so I had to prioritize. Good thing is that I have no more tests until the third week of February so I will try to update on a daily basis. But it can happen that I won't always be able to. Now that I have things going, I am really looking forward to making things complicated. I'm introducing two characters in this chapter, who will, hopefully cause a nice stir.
Gosh this chapter was a pain to write. It is the most difficult of the entire story and no matter how I twisted it around, I am still not completely satisfied with it. The next one will be better, because I will finally have this troublesome back story done and I can focus on the plot. Thank you for reading and I promise the following chapters will not suck so much. I sought inspiration in episode 9 of season 2, so if you get a sense of deja-vu that's the reason. *sighs* I wish Freya was still alive. Merlin needs more love. (:
Special thanks to my friends, who are not members of the FF community, but like to read (and comment) my stories. I love you all and thank you for not throttling me every time I run up to you saying: "So y'know that story I'm working on~." Also, thanks to everyone who has added this story to their favorites' list. It is much appreciated.
I don't own Merlin, I just like to play with the characters.
Reviews are welcome, by the way.
Arthur Pendragon thinks himself a rather patient person. He can listen to people's suggestions, consider their opinion, think over his actions and not rush head first into a situation that requires some pondering. Of course, he likes it when things are exciting and flowing and does occasionally lose his nerve. In some cases more often than others.
This is one of those situations.
Although the young prince would sooner voluntarily boil in oil than admit it aloud, he is starting to regret leaving his manservant behind. True, Merlin is an annoying, chattering, clumsy idiot, but at least he has no choice but to follow Arthur's orders.
Lady Magnolia is no such person.
The name alone makes the hairs at the nape of Arthur's neck rise, and not in the pleasant of ways. He briefly wonders how is it her parents had come up with a name like that. Lady Fly-trap would have been much more appropriate. Or perhaps Poison Ivy.
He wishes he could turn back time and deny his father's request to escort the fair Lady to Camelot. An image of Uther, tiredly trying to rub a massive headache out of his temples, while explaining the assignment, flashes before the prince's eyes. He fights back a groan of annoyance.
Lady Magnolia is Uther's distant cousin – twice removed, if the family tree is to be trusted – and in all her years she has never let anyone forget she is related to the king of Camelot. Actually, she never let anyone forget her, period. Were it up to him, she would never set foot anywhere even remotely near Camelot, but she is family and the king's birthday is an event no relative has ever missed.
"Arthur~"
The high-pitched voice tempts Arthur's up-chuck reflex, but he quickly regains his composure and tugs at the reins to halt his horse.
He has to wait several minutes before Lady Magnolia and her maid to catch up with him. Due to the vast amount of luggage she insisted on bringing with her, there is no room for her in the carriage. So Arthur and his men are forced to endure her company twenty four hours a day, all this time ordered to be at her disposal. Of course, they do this every other day and, as respectable knights, they would always gladly see to a Lady's fair treatment and comfort, but there just is no pleasing Magnolia.
"Arthur, dear, I understand you youngsters find enjoyment riding at such a rapid pace, but you might wish to slow our travelling speed. You have ladies present." Magnolia finally wobbles over, back straight as a lance, her head – without a single hair out of place, naturally – held as high as her neck will allow her. She sits on her horse like it were a throne, and the poor animal is so nervous it keeps twitching, causing her to squeak every once in a while.
The amount of resolve required for Arthur not to roll his eyes is of epic proportions. He's secretly done it so many times, Sir Leon and the other knights have started wagers on how long it takes until he slips and is caught. This is not the time and some of them quietly sigh, while others cover up chuckles with coughing.
"I suppose we could slow down," he tries to be diplomatic, although if they were moving any slower, they would probably be going backwards, "but we are moving through enemy territory, Milady. I would be risking all our lives in doing so."
It is a blatant lie, but it will hopefully keep her quiet.
Seconds later Arthur wishes to bite his tongue off for having said it.
"Enemy territory!" Lady Magnolia exclaims in a fashion that makes most of the men cringe under their helmets. "Well, obviously, your still have a lot to learn before you can fill your father's shoes. Uther would never have exposed me and my staff in such a careless fashion!"
Of all her annoying traits, Magnolia's blind adoration of his father is what bothers Arthur the most. He hears enough of his old man's bragging on a daily basis, but with his insufferable relative around, there is no end to it. It is a good thing he is wearing gloves, because with the force he is gripping them, the reins would by now be digging into raw, bleeding flesh.
"My apologies." His yaw is clenched so tight he can hardly get the words out. "You have my word we will reach Camelot unharmed. My men and I will protect you with our lives."
On second though, maybe he shouldn't get ahead of himself.
Lady Magnolia lets out a very unladylike snort and is about to say something, when she catches sight of her maid from the corner of her eye. In mere seconds, her head whips towards her and Arthur's heart instinctively goes out to the chubby little thing.
"Felicity!" The girl jumps as if swept with a whip.
"If you do not stop slouching, so help me God, I will tie a mop across your shoulders to keep them straight. Honestly, child, sometimes I think you wish to look like a troll."
The girl, probably Arthur's age, straightens up with such speed the prince can hardly see the change happen.
"Forgive me, Milady."
"If you were to act accordingly for once, and quit disgracing yourself, you wouldn't need to seek forgiveness," Magnolia announces in her horribly nasal voice and nudges her horse forward, without sparing the poor girl a second glance.
"And straighten your braid. Letting it hang over your shoulder like that, makes you look like a common peasant."
To say that Arthur is relieved when they finally reach the gates of Camelot, is an understatement.
Merlin's heart beats against his chest with the force of a sledgehammer, as he watches Elaine's eyes widen in realisation. They are glued to his and she is gripping his hand so tight it nearly hurts. He finds himself unable to look away as if there were an invisible line holding them together. It takes him a while to notice he is still talking, because the only thing he can truly comprehend, is that he has just shown her his greatest secret, and has no idea how she will respond.
"I know how it is to hide things, to not be able to show people who you really are and-"
"You have magic," she whispers in wonder, unintentionally cutting him off.
Elaine's whole body is trembling from the significance of what she has just witnessed. She is lost in his impossibly blue eyes, only seeing the candlelight around them as a blotchy, orange blur with the corners of her eyes. But she can still feel the buzz of Merlin's magic on her exposed skin, and it is breathtaking. She knows no sorcerer holds a power like this; so pure and untamed. Learned magic is always stiff, controlled, yet his is like the rhythm of a heartbeat – the magic of a warlock.
He nods, hesitantly, but there is a question in his eyes he doesn't dare ask, although it is eating him from the inside out. She understands.
"Insynthia."
The command is quiet but sure, and the flames of numerous candles shoot up and entwine in a smouldering spiral. By the time her eyes stop glowing gold, the flames have returned to normal and the candles have ceased to glow.
Elaine watches something flash across Merlin's face and then there is a smile so bright spread across it, her heart skips a beat. It feels as though his expression alone lights up the room like a sun, and she can see a brilliance behind his eyes. A brilliance he lets not many people see.
In that very moment, she wants nothing more than to stay. It is madness, she might as well offer up her head to Uther on a silver platter, but right now she doesn't even mind so much, because staying sound like the most wonderful idea she has ever heard. She is so overwhelmed with everything that's happened between them, she is at a loss for words. Merlin misunderstands her silence and immediately starts to apologise.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I-" he stops mid sentence, unsure of what to say. "It's just that I've never known anyone like you and I~"
"Don't apologise." She gently squeezes his hand, not wanting to let go. "It's been a long time since I've last known anybody like you."
"You know others, people like us?"
Although her words make him itch with excitement to know more, there is something else stirring deep inside his chest; a feeling that is neither excitement nor interest. It is something much more bitter and it makes him feel as if he is...inadequate. He doesn't understand it, much less want to feel it, but it's there. That nagging feeling that he might not be anything special to her. It is absurd, because they have only just met and he knows next to nothing about her, but her opinion suddenly seems very important to the young warlock.
"I used to," she corrects quietly, and Merlin knows what she is implying without any further explanation.
"They meant a lot to you, didn't they?"
It is more a statement than a question, but she nods.
"It was my mother." It's been more than ten years, but she her voice still shakes as she mentions her. "She was a born mage, a witch, whichever you wish to call it."
"Oh."
She is grateful when he doesn't say he's sorry. In a way, his compassionate silence is better than any words of comfort he could have offered her. His thumb hesitantly draws a circle across her palm and she nearly drops his hand in surprise.
"Is she the one who taught you your healing magic?"
She shakes her head and then gently pulls her hands away. "I was born like this."
There's an odd look in her eyes as she says it, and she studies him as if she is expecting a certain reaction.
"What?" he asks, unable to hide the light amusement in his voice.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks away, feeling uncomfortable. "This is the part where most people start shooting."
"Well," he tilts his head to the side, grinning, "I am not most people."
"Obviously."
"Mhm," he goes on to say. "My archery skills are terrible."
It takes Elaine much longer than it should, to figure out he's teasing. He is struggling to maintain his deadly serious expression, but the twitching corners of his lips give him way.
She has to chuckle, despite herself, but quickly regains her composure, because she knows he hasn't yet given up on convincing her to stay.
"People notice if you never seem to get hurt. That's why I can never stay in one place for long. Sooner or later, I am found out and then there is hell to pay. Why would you want to risk it? For me of all people?"
His answer is so simple and naïve that it is nearly ludicrous, but it shatters her last resolve, "Because I want to."
Elaine looks at the young warlock before her for a long time, before gracing him with a small, nearly wistful smile. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."
"Merlin!"
Arthur is used to Merlin not being on time, but today is not a day he is prepared to tolerate it.
"Merlin!" he roars again, his patience wearing thin.
"Is he deaf?" Lady Magnolia asks and arches an eyebrow in annoyance. She is standing next to Arthur, half hidden under an umbrella Felicity is holding above her head, fanning her face with a handkerchief.
She hasn't stopped complaining ever since they've arrived in Camelot, and there were not enough servants at hand, to carry her luggage into the castle in one go. Arthur politely tried to persuade her to wait in her assigned chambers, while he personally took care of it, but she would have none of it. Instead, they have spent the last 10 minutes standing in the middle of a courtyard, waiting for someone to show up.
Arthur swears if Merlin doesn't appear in five seconds, he will have him hanged by the toes from one of the castle towers.
"MERLIN!"
Five, four, three, two...
"Sorry, sire."
Finally, Merlin appears from around a corner, approaching them with a pace that makes Arthur's blood boil. The prince is so furious, he doesn't even notice the slight figure walking in Merlin's shadow.
"Merlin, are you under the impression my horses will muck themselves?" He snaps just as his manservant is in hearing range.
"I have to admit it is a nice thought," Merlin agrees with a solemn nod, but quickly falls silent at the look he receives from the prince.
Arthur opens his mouth to say something, when Lady Magnolia beats him to it. To his surprise, it is not Merlin's behaviour that has gained her disapproval.
"What on Earth is that girl wearing?"
It takes Arthur a while to even notice who she is talking about, because the person in question is quite efficiently hidden behind Merlin's back.
"Who are you?"
Elaine is not exactly sure who she should answer. The male – whom she knows from Merlin's description, is Arthur Pendragon – or the unknown woman with an incredibly unpleasant, high-pitched voice.
She opts for the first of the two, because he at least doesn't seem to feel like vomiting just from having laid eyes on her.
"My name is Elaine, Sire," she mumbles and manages a clumsy curtsy. "I was attacked in the woods and it was Merlin who saved my life. I've come to Camelot in search of work~"
"Well, young lady, you have certainly chosen the wrong attire for such a quest," the woman informs her in a tone so outraged, Elaine nearly feels like she has committed treason.
Arthur however is much more lenient. His does rise a questionable eyebrow as he eyes the shirt she is wearing and Elaine prays he does not recognise it as Merlin's. Not only would that seem indecent, but it could also be interpreted in a very wrong way.
"I'm sure we can find you something to do. With my father's birthday coming up in a week's time, we can use all the help we can get," he allows, but the unknown lady has other ideas.
"You cannot be serious, Arthur. Look at her! The girl is in desperate need of grooming and proper attire for starters, and do not even get me started on the rest. She obviously needs a firm hand to guide her and I believe I have all the needed requirements. I will take her under my wing for the time being, and by end of my visit, perhaps she can be used as a maid."
"Come now," she takes hold of Elaine elbow, and before she can get a word out, the surprised girl is being dragged towards the castle doors. Panicked, she looks at Merlin, who seems equally shocked, but there is nothing he can do.
Half way up the steps, Lady Magnolia turns on her heel to appraise her maid, "Must I provide it in writing, if I want you to be of any use, Felicity? Get this girl a decent dress and when you do, make sure you burn these." She inspects Elaine's clothing with such disgust Elaine is afraid her face will melt off.
"But~" Her protest reaches deaf ears because her new mistress has already made her decision.
"Twice."
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