Hello there. It's been quite some time since I've last been on FanFic. I've been busy with some personal stuff but I'm back now!
Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! I'm super glad you like this story so far and I hope you guys keep liking it. I'll do my best to make sure it's a good story!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Merlin
Chapter Four: Her Story
It had been a busy time for Camelot.
Lady Morgana had been saved from the wrath of magic—or so thought Uther.
Arthur and his men had been searching for the king's ward once again. It had seemed hopeless, but that was when Merlin and seen her. She was a mess, if one could even say that. It had looked like she had been running for days. She was skin and bone, and just the sight of her made Merlin and Arthur almost cringe—both for different reasons.
After that, Morgana had been returned to the castle, where she was given time to recuperate from whatever trials she had faced. She had explained what had happened, and just how sorry she had been, and it had seemed that everything had finally returned to the way they were.
But not everything is at it seems.
Arthur tossed and turned in his bed as he tried to get some sleep. He sighed after a few more minutes of rolling around before he sat up. He stared into the darkness of the night, frowning at the one thought on his mind.
Feira.
She had been all he could think of after Morgana had been saved, for it had been nearly two months since his last visit to her. He had told her he would come back, and yet he hadn't; he wondered what she thought of him.
Running his hands over his face, the prince released a tired sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment but quickly opened them there afterwards as his mind began envisioning the way her skin seemed to glow in the torchlight. He remembered every curve of her body, every flicker of light against her exposed thighs.
Quickly standing to his feet, Arthur began to pace. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some semblance of control over himself. After taking a few deep breaths, the prince finally managed to get a hold of himself before quietly walking out of his chamber and to the dungeon.
He was ready for the rest of Feira's story.
~O~
It was completely silent in Camelot's dungeon. The flames from the torches flickered throughout the night, though there was one figure that stayed hidden in the shadows.
Arthur shook his head at his own behavior as he cautiously walked down the steps, keeping his back pressed against the wall. He glanced around the corner and rolled his eyes as he watched a pair of guards fast asleep at the base of the stairs; no wonder there were so many attempted escapes from prisoners.
After being able to unnoticeably pass the guards, the prince released a held breath, standing in the empty room before looking down at the latch he had stumbled upon several months before. He stared at it before he carefully knelt down and grabbed the handle. With one quiet grunt, the blond was able to pull the door open. Smiling at his work, Arthur quickly made his way down the steps before shutting the hatch door behind himself.
"It's a bit late for—"
"You're awake?"
Immediately, Feira stopped as she looked towards the entrance. She tried to stare through the material of the bag but failed to see anything other than the weaved threading. Her ears twitched at the sound of dirt and dust scrapping against the bottoms of a pair of boots. She tried not to struggle against the chains that held her hostage; she had learned long ago that it was futile.
"I'm here for the rest of that story." Feira's eyes widened as she turned to the familiar voice. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her cheeks began to turn red. For once, she was thankful for the burlap covering over her face.
"I thought you had forgotten about my tale."
"I would never," Arthur said, suddenly realizing just how intimate the moment was feeling. He quickly cleared his throat before he sat back down on the crate just in the corner of the crawlspace.
"…Why are you so curious about my story?" Feira suddenly asked. Arthur stared at her for moment before his eyes switched to the torch on the wall. He watched as the flames dances, the red and orange dancing across the room. His gaze followed the colors of the fire before falling upon Feira's figure. He tried to stop himself from staring at the way the young woman's legs arched, her arms lying beside her head.
"…All my life, I've been taught to believe magic is evil," Arthur said honestly. "But this notion has always been told to me by those who—well—those who don't have magic," he stated as he shook his head, staring at his feet. Feira listened carefully, her eyes closing at the sound of her companion's voice.
"I want to know how magic is from the other side of the spectrum," said the prince, finally looking up from the ground. "I want to see just how evil magic is to those who have it. And seeing as I've never had the opportunity until now, I figured I would take advantage of it," he said quietly. He waited patiently for Feira to respond, giving the sorceress plenty of time to come up with something to say.
The silence was fragile—the moment hanging by just a single thread between them. Arthur was unsure of how long they had sat in the still of it all, but when Feira had finally spoken it was as if a glass had been dropped on the floor, ripping his attention away from the torch's light.
"I had admired the knights. They were all so tall and strong looking. It was the way I had always imagined nobility to look like," Feira said, almost sounding fond of the memory. "There was an air about them when they first entered the tavern…I never wanted to forget it." Now it took her everything just to not think of that night. "There were at least seven of them, and there was one that led the pack. He must have been the leader, for the other knights seemed to follow his every word and order." Arthur tried not to smile; he had been the leader of the knights that evening.
"The entire night had been Sir Winston following me about. I had refused him endlessly, but it seems he just didn't understand," the sorceress explained quietly. "He had wanted something from me that I could not give him," she said as she shook her head, laughing coldly to herself. Arthur frowned at that as he shook his head; he hadn't expected something like that from Winston.
"I had been alone that evening. My parents had passed long ago due to illness, so I lived by myself. It was never really a bother though. The only time I ever regretted being alone was that night," she said quietly as stared through the burlap bag and to the ceiling. "I hadn't been expecting him. I had just left the tavern and had been on my home. That was when he appeared around the corner." The more Arthur listened the more his rage began to simmer.
"I tried not to act so rashly, for he had had a few drinks and I did not want to judge his character. But he was like a brick wall. There was just no getting around him," Feira said quietly as she began reliving the one night she couldn't seem to escape. Arthur watched her intently as she adjusted her position. "Even to this day, I never meant to hurt him…I had only wanted to push him away," she whispered as her lips began to twitch downwards.
This was not how he had expected things to go. All along, deep down in his heart, he had been hoping that Feira's story would be full of anger and hatred. He had been hoping she would give him a reason to fear magic, just like he had been told to all along. This only succeeded in confusing him furthermore.
"Someone like you would never be able to understand it…but there are those of us with magic who sometimes just can't control it. It's like a part of your body that sometimes just…spasms," she explained as she shook her head. "The point is, my magic seemed to act up at that moment, and before I knew it Winston was on the ground and people were screaming," she said as she shook her head.
Arthur watched her as he unknowingly stood to his feet, his eyes glued to the burlap mask. He stared thoughtfully as he began remembering that night.
"Everything happened so quickly. So many people were afraid of me—so many screams. The only thing that seemed to keep me from mentally exploding was the knight in charge." Arthur's eyes widened, the memory of the night completely clear to him in that moment. "I'm sure he had seen me use my magic, and if he hadn't it would have been obvious by the way the villagers screamed 'sorceress' at me. But even still, he was kind to me." Feira remember that moment well, for his blue eyes had been the only thing that kept her sane from the moment on.
"…His name is Arthur Pendragon." Feira blinked, her companion's voice suddenly hovering over her. She blinked a few times as she tried not to tense her entire body. And then, she realized what he had said.
"The king's son?" Feira whispered.
"That's right."
"…That can't be true."
"Why not?"
"The king has hated magic since the time I was born," Feira said as she shook her head. "The son of the king would surely carry on his same beliefs." Arthur tried not to frown at the thought as he looked up at the flames of the torch once more.
"The knight who had helped me, he had been kind to me. He knew I had possessed magic and yet he had treated me carefully. And although he had inevitably arrested me, there was not a moment where I felt like I was in danger," Feira stated. "No son of the king would be ever so gentle and kind to someone of magic. I am sure of it."
He had felt insulted. Though Feira had not meant to insult him to his face, Arthur couldn't help but feel guilt, anger and shame wash over him. Although magic was banned, there were people who still possessed it. There was no changing that. That meant that there were still people in his kingdom that lived in fear; fear of his father and fear of him. That feeling just didn't bode well with him.
"You're wrong about him," Arthur said quietly as he shook his head. "You should not judge someone before you meet them."
"Just as the king should not judge those with magic before meeting them." The prince blinked before his gaze softened. He sighed before shaking his head and looking down at the young woman. Keeping his eyes away from Feira's body, the blond's gaze fell upon the chain and shackle holding the young sorceress prisoner.
"If you have magic, why don't you just escape?" Arthur inquired curiously as Feira chuckled dryly.
"If could have, I would have. These chains contain the magic within me. I have no way of using my magic at all," she explained, the blue-eyed wonder nodding his head.
The two sat in a comfortable silence, neither one wanting to break it. Although he had only come to see her thrice now, Feira was beginning to grow accustomed to this stranger's visits. His company kept her from wasting away like she had been before; now there was something for her to look forward to in her dull, grey life. And as for Arthur, she had opened his eyes to many things he had never thought of before. She was completely different from what he had been expecting of her. He wasn't even entirely sure what he had been expecting, but he was fond of what he found.
Still, all things must come to an end.
"I should go," Arthur said quietly as Feira merely nodded. The prince stared quietly at his father's prisoner. His gaze softened, and before he could stop himself, he wrapped his hand around Feira's. Said woman's eyes widened as she turned to her right, Arthur's own eyes filled with shock.
"…You should know that Arthur is sorry…he's sorry for everything you've had to endure." Giving her hand one more squeeze before making his way back up the small staircase.
Feira laid in complete shock before she lifted her head, turning it towards the direction of the entrance and exit of her cell. She took shallow breaths before she finally found her voice. "Wait!" she yelled out, hoping she had stopped her visitor from leaving.
She needed to know who he was.
She waited for a moment and listened carefully. She tried to control her breathing as she waited for a moment before saying, "What's your name?"
Arthur stood at the top of the staircase with the door lifted up. He didn't make a move, knowing Feira would be able to hear him. He closed his eyes as he shifted to look back down the steps towards the sorceress' home. Without a word, Arthur turned back around and climbed out from the trap-door, shutting it and locking it.
"Stop!" Feira yelled before she began tugging on her bindings. She grunted and growled as she tried to free herself; she had to see his face.
After several minutes of fighting against chains, the witch stopped, catching her breath. She closed her eyes before she shook her head, laughing icily to herself.
So it seemed Prince Arthur had paid her a visit.
