Sorry about this late update, but it's here now! Read and Review, yeah? You know the drill!

CHAPTER 4 - CONFRONTATION.

Arthur decided that, after the embarrassing moment in the market, he would sulk alone - which he was accustomed to doing after an argument with his father. He couldn't believe a child's words effected him the way they did. Well, she was not exactly a child, but she was younger than him and thus he declared her a 'child'. It was even worse that she would soon be considered his 'step-mother', and his queen. He sighed, and dragged his hand down his warm face; he felt awful, more of a child than he thought of Merlynn. As he mulled it over, he heard a presence behind him, and slumped his shoulders.

"I wish to be al - oh," he turned and made eye contact with his dearest friend.

"Oh brother," Lancelot chuckled slightly. "You've put yourself in a bit of a pickle, haven't you?" He remained silent, not answering to the small smirk of his companion. "Heard all about it. Seems Vamos gossips just as much as Camelot does."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "That's wonderful for them," he bit out sarcastically. "I... I didn't mean to insult them."

"You did. Of course, it was just your belief and your stubborn attitude, but you did take it a bit out of proportion." Lancelot, he reluctantly agreed, knew what he was talking about, and always knew exactly what to do, or say, to pull him out of his dark place.

"What do I do, then?"

"I suggest -"

"Hello, Prince Arthur," a small boy with dark hair, and even darker skin, interuppted. He bowed his head in respect to both of them, but only addressed the prince - as required of him by his king. "The king wishes to speak to you in the council room. He would also like for you to bring the peace treaty."

Arthur clenched his jaw in slight frustration but, at the look in his companion's eyes, sighed and nodded. "I'll be right with you," he replied.

"No, my lord. He asked me to stay with you and take you to the council chamber," the boy said.

"...Fine."

He turned to Lancelot, hoping he would say something, anything, but all he got was: "We'll talk later."

Arthur grabbed the peace treaty from his chambers and followed the boy through the ancient, vast halls of the castle. Despite his earlier arrogance about how barbaric the place was, the castle of Vamos was a rather marvelous building, unlike anything he had ever seen before. He could tell there was a history within those walls and he was intriqued. The hallways he was walking through surrounded a large courtyard which flourished with an abundance of flowers and small trees of different hues and aromas. It gave him a sense of peace as he passed it.

Finally, they reached the council room and he paused to see the squire knock at the door.

"Yes?" Balinor's voice seeped through.

"S - sire, the prince has arrived," the boy called nervously.

"Ah! Bring him in."

Balinor was seated at the end of the table, various pages of parchment scattered across the table. He smiled warmly when he caught sight of the young prince, and welcomed him inside. "You may leave now, Gregor." The squire closed the door behind him. "How are you, Arthur?"

"I have had better days, to be honest, sire," Arthur took a seat across from the king, placing the peace treaty onto the table between them.

"What has happened?" he looked a bit concerned - the thing that took him by surprise was that the concern was for him.

"It seems I have made too many people upset with me today," he admitted. "I have not showed your city any respect over the past two days, and for that I am eternally sorry. I was brought up to believe that this land is full of savages and cannibals and beasts of another nature - when I came here and saw that it was more developed, I just couldn't believe it. I was unable to see it as anything other than what had been branded into my expectations. And for that, I am sorry."

"That is alright, son," Balinor smiled. "Too many rumors have been passed along about the people here, and we have grown to accept them. To admit, there are some who have turned into them to spite others, men who have transformed into ruthless killing machines." His mouth became set into a thin line. "I know men who go into villages to the east and rape and murder, but that is only a small percent. The rest of us, we hope, and we fight to be more than that." For the first time, Arthur saw him as an old, worried man who had lived a long life of pain, and suffering. "Have I done the wrong thing in giving my daughter to your father? It seems as though she hates me."

"Sometimes I feel like I hate my father, but I know that I do not," Arthur consoled him. "I will never stop loving my father and, from what I can see, she cares a great deal about you. And as for her marriage to my king, I think this is a good transaction. I have always believed one should marry for love, but given the chance, if it meant that my kingdom would be saved, then I would marry for that purpose."

"Will he treat her well?"

He hesitated for a moment. Arthur had never seen his father in the company of women, so he didn't know how he treated the opposite sex. "I - I - my father has made some terrible choices in his life, but I know that he is not a man to raise his hand to a woman. I have never seen it; I didn't get the chance to see him with my mother, but from what I've heard from the court physician, they were very happy together. I believe that my father will treat your daughter well, Balinor. He is not a cruel man."

Though, as he spoke those words, he doubted them. He had no idea how his father responded to women, and he certainly didn't want to know how he would react to the enigma that was Merlynn. Arthur rubbed nervously at the back of his neck and cleaned his clammy palms on the material covering his thighs. He knew that Balinor was a good man, who did the best he could to provide love to his children who were introduced to a world of blood and violence. Merlynn was much younger than Arthur, and was not even considered a woman yet - she was only a girl.

Balinor unrolled the treaty and spread it out across the table, fingering the edge of the parchment. "I love my children more than anything else. After Hunith died..." he sighed shakily, running his fingers through his thick hair. "I - I would have given up the kingdom to see her smile again. When she died, I thought Merlynn wasn't going to cope, then she just changed. She was still the same spit-fire, but she became taller, stronger, less, well, less like the child that she still is. Sometimes I forget that she's only a girl, a baby. And now I'm giving her to a man who is my age." He laughed bitterly. "Hunith would've slapped me silly. She always believed that her children were to be married to the people they wanted to, not for the kingdom."

"Smart woman," Arthur remarked.

"Yes. That's where Merlynn gets her spark," he said. "Mordred... he depends on Merlynn more than many realize. What will he do when she is gone? I fear the consequences of my actions. Merlynn does not tread lightly; she is bold, and she is a dragon at heart. Every movement has it's purpose. She will rule well, but she is reckless just like a warrior. I do not know how she will cope in Camelot."

"She has befriended Morgana well enough," he told the king. "She will keep Merlynn grounded, I'm sure. Keep her safe."

"Hm. I wonder how she will react to the limitations and consequences for her actions? Camelot is so different from Quohra."

"How do you know?" Arthur questioned.

"Have you seen what you wear, how you act, compared to us? Besides, I have ventured into Camelot once or twice as a boy," he admitted.

His interest peaked. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. But that is another story for another time, my boy. You must be tired. I think you should apologize to your father's ward and my daughter, though. Merlynn can exct revenge like no other, but I'm not too sure about the Lady Morgana," Balinor said with a small smile.

"She's a woman to be reckoned with, I assure you," Arthur confessed, his smile tight and slightly nervous.

"It has been wonderful having this chat. Truly. You are a good man, Arthur Pendragon, and I hope to see you on the throne like the proud king you will become."

He was touched by the honesty and emotion in the older man's voice. He barely knew him, and yet he was speaking to him as though a close companion or an old friend - those Emrys seemed to have that effect on him, he realized, as he made his way toward Morgana's chambers. Arthur apologized to her and, with a few quick, honest words, she had forgiven him for his awful behaviour and treatment toward the Quohra. Now, he stood before princess Merlynn's chambers, and his breath seemed to leave him. He wanted her to like him; while she was only sixteen, seventeen years of age, she was to be his mother and he didn't want her to hate him. His father would be furious with him, and he didn't want her to feel vengeful against him.

Who knows what she could do?

He knocked on the door three times.

"Freya, please open the door to our visitor," the voice of his future mother whispered through the door.

A pretty handmaiden with oil black hair and murky blue eyes opened the large door, and bowed in his presence. "My lady, it is Prince Arthur," she called back.

"Invite him in."

"But, my lady -"

"Freya." Her voice was not unkind, but it held a stern note that made Freya sigh slightly begrudgingly and usher him inside.

He then understood why the handmaiden did not wish for him to enter the bedchamber, for he was caught with a sight that made his mouth go dry. Merlynn wore a chemise - if one could call it that - that was made out of a sheer material, almost completely transparent and a silhouette for her lean physique. Now that he saw her in the true form, he saw what he did not earlier that day. He saw her legs were much paler than her face and arms, as they were least likely to be in the scorching eye of the sun. Scars, is what he saw - imperfections to an otherwise perfect form. They were all over her; he never noticed them on her arms, unlike now, when they gleamed brightly like a candle in the dark. But, he did not feel repulsed by the sight of her scars, like her eyes challenged him to, instead he was curious.

He had an urge to trail his fingers over each scar and figure out their history, so hard that it made his fingers ache, but he muffled it as best he could and tried to divert her eyes to her splendorous figure. "P - Princess," he cleared his throat.

Her smile was wicked, and slightly amused. She could see it in his eyes that he was studying her but, to his relief, did not mention it or kick him in the groin. Instead, she nodded solemnly and said, "You obviously came to speak to me, or did you just come to ogle?"

Drat. He flushed a cherry red. "No - No, of course not. I do not ogle." She snorted and rolled her eyes. "I came here to apologize, princess. I judged you and your people unfairly before I even tried to introduce myself, or get to know them. I am aware of my actions, and I am most humbly sorry. Whatever offense I caused, to you, or the rest of the people of Quohra, I take my punishment accordingly."

"Really? Well, the Malasi tribe would take your head, stick it on a pike and then run around in circles on their stallions for hours on end while your blood became a fine wine to their celebrations," she told him coolly, an eyebrow cocked. Arthur's brows rose up into his hairline. "But, here in Vamos, we do not kill, unless we are in danger of being killed ourselves. I forgive you, Arthur, as long as you take the chance to get to know the Quohra. They were so eager to meet you, and yet you show such disrespect to them - I'll have to go down and apologize prior to your arrival. They're not the most forgiving of folk if they are deeply burned by others."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. The more you do it, the falser it becomes," she scoffed.

Arthur nodded and abruptly stopped. His eyes could not leave her lean figure, no matter how hard he tried to. He swallowed deeply, and said, "I'll be off now, my lady."

"Merlynn. My name is Merlynn, and I like being called it," she replied.

"O - Alright. Goodnight, Merlynn."

"Goodnight, Arthur."

[][][][][][]

Freya chased Merlynn around her bedchamber, brush in hand and an expression of annoyance on her face. The princess was holding on to her long, tangled hair, shouting out her indignation as she was running from her handmaiden. She was only eighteen, but she felt like an old mother, racing after her daughter who just couldn't seem to follow the rules; this was a normal ritual for the two of them, and she was slightly sick of it. Freya tried to blindside her and halt her childish behavior, but she failed over and over again as the princess jumped out of the way.

"Princess, please! This has got to stop!" she exclaimed in frustration.

Merlynn snickered a bit and spun out of the way of the handmaiden. "It will only stop once you catch me," she called back with an amused smile.

"The king of Camelot will not be impressed if you do this in his kingdom," Freya retorted, trying to get the girl to see some sort of sense in her attitude.

"So? If he doesn't like it, then he can get used to it!"

Then, the princess burst open her bedchamber door and raced out into hall. It was the last thing Freya wanted, and groaned in annoyance. Pausing momentarily to catch her breath, she gazed at the door; she was glad that she was paid handsomely for the services she did, because handling a hyper Merlynn was not something she enjoyed. Well, at first it was amusing, but then it soon got to the point where she wanted to tear her hair from the roots. The handmaiden ran out after the princess, brush forgotten and, instead, she just focused on stopping the childish girl. Merlynn was still in her nightwear, for Gods' sake!

Many of the high nobles of Vamos were wandering through the halls, and she wasn't sure whether she was glad or horrified when they pointed her in the princess' direction. But, she thanked them and chased her through corridors, taking small shortcuts and doing whatever she could to catch up with the future queen of Camelot. It was ridiculous, having a girl who acted like a child on the best of days becoming the next queen of a kingdom she had never been too before. Freya was happy where she was; if she was unwilling to leave, uncomfortable with the aspect of leaving her home, she could only imagine how Merlynn was feeling.

"Princess!" she shouted. "Come now, this is enough! Please... just stop."

"Sorry," a voice said from behind her, and she just about jumped ten feet in the air in surprise. Freya whirled around to see the princess herself standing there, unflinching in her night wear with a smile on her face, amusement twinkling in her cerulean gaze. "I was just having a bit of fun."

She could not help but smile a little. Merlynn always found her way back into her heart even after the most annoying of moments - it was one of the reasons she loathed her sometimes. "Fine. But come on, we have to get back to your chambers. We'll be heading to Camelot soon, in only a few days; we have things to prepare, things to do." Freya took her arm and began to drag her off in the direction of her bedchamber.

[][][][][][]

Mordred was the observant sort. He simply watched, rather than spoke; a silent watcher. Most gossiped and chatted idly around him, either not caring about his presence or simply forgetting he was even there. It gave him the perfect opportunity to learn things about the people of the court. So, when he was to walk around the courtyard and listen to the people, he picked up those who cursed his father (which, gladly, there were none), those who insulted his sister (he pranked them a few times with tricks he had learnt from Cerdan), and what was going on in society.

He felt the urge to eavesdrop especially now, due to the presence of these Northerners that had invaded his father's land. They were not welcome - they had made his sister upset and, therefore, he had no respect for any of them. Well, the ones who made her upset. That Arthur Pendragon. Mordred clenched his jaw, and his stride became longer, with more purpose - really, he had no purpose today. There was absolutely nothing to do; he was bored, he was angry at the thought of his sister leaving him alone in Quohra. Besides her, he had little friends, and all the dependence of a new ruler once his father died would weigh down on him.

He didn't want to rule. Merlynn would make a better queen than he a king.

... If Mordred didn't hate Arthur Pendragon, or his father Uther, before, he sure did now.

So, sorry for late update again ^.^ I kinda forgot about this whole story.

And no, just for clarification for the above, Mordred isn't going to go all vengeful evil on Arthur. He's just an irritated pre-pubescent boy whose sister is about to leave him to go marry Arthur's father...

haha.

saroura92: Hahaa, I know. She's like a mixture of the original fem!Merlynn, some sort of Daenerys/Arya mixture... I think. Haven't really pictured her true character.

Michelle: It's not as mystical and lovely as Merlin, more in the GoT catagory of darkness... I had tried to do that in the Golden Effect, and succeeded, but this is just so much better because... ya know... it's AU. Haha, thank you, by the way x

Lady Blade WarAngel: Uh... ooh, favourite character - Morgana, or Sansa? :/ I dunno, haha. Oh, and also, yeah... I'm super busy - this alone was a struggle to make out. I'm not too good at time management, nor controlling my procrastination urges, and there's so much family issues right now it's through the roof. I'm not sure when I'll have free time to do anything, really. I mean, this took, like, a month to bring out! x

cheekysorcerer: Haha, I'm glad you love it! And, ooooohhh. I. LOVE. It! :D x

xXMistressMadHatterXx: I think this is gonna stay strictly AU - no crossover. Merlynn shall leave Quohra soon anyhow, so... yeah. And :O how did you figure it out? You're seriously my Yoda, haha.

Hallix: What I thought about Arthur's 'surrender' was that... he's not in Camelot anymore, nor in an environment where he could go all 'booyah don't you dare disrespect me, bitch!' He's in an unfamiliar land, and to be called out in such a way, around people who he believed to be barbarians, who casually carry massive weapons around... Yeah, that's why he surrendered so easily. He was way out of his depth. And, yeah... I guess she can be a bit of a bitch. I'm either incorporating whatever bitchy-ness that Merlynn didn't have in The Golden Effect in this, or her character is just... bold, in a way. She's dealing with the whole marriage thing in a way that, obviously, is a bit of a 'lash-out'. Of course she's gonna give Arthur a bad time, haha - when has she not given Arthur a hard time, even in The Golden Effect? She's not one to simply not tell him he's being a dick.