I apologise for most of this chapter. Reading back through has shown me how passive it feels, though I was proud of it at the time. The beginning is quite weak and I was almost going to rewrite it but I didn't want to be caught up in the past and lose traction with where I am presently. So, er, enjoy I guess.
Episode Seven: Creatures of Avalon
She awoke the next morning with the previous day's events still weighing heavily on her mind, but determined to push forward with her plans. Her bag remained packed by her door, awaiting her venture to the Northern Plains in search for the young griffin. All she needed was the permission of her master.
She delivered his breakfast on time and found him already awake and dressed, staring out the window contemplatively. As he sat down to feed, she steeled her resolve. Their conversation went a little like this:
"Arthur, I was wondering if I could possibly –"
"I'm trying to eat my breakfast in peace, Merlyn. That includes you not talking."
"Yes, but I only want to ask –"
"Questions are prohibited when I don't want to talk. Right now, they're prohibited."
"It's more of a request than a –"
"Then even more reason to silence yourself. I've decided we're going on a hunt today. Anything more requires too much thinking and defeats the purpose of my plan. And by we, I mean you and I."
"What!"
And so out in the forest she was, several rabbits tied to her belt and an armful of awkward, heavy equipment in her arms. Because of the spontaneous decision, only Merlyn and Prince Prat were hunting instead of his usual entourage of guards, and the black-haired girl liked it not one bit.
She lost sight of Arthur in the scrub ahead hurried through the trees to catch up while also trying to remain quiet as he'd requested. Trying being the operative word.
She stumbled through a tangle of young, supple branches and only caught sight of Arthur when he was beneath her. She tripped into his squatting bulk and the arrow he'd been targeting went flying off into the underbrush. She heard the sudden rustle as the creature he'd been aiming at dashed away. She cringed shamefacedly.
He turned to her angrily. "You really are a total buffoon, aren't you, Merlyn?" he exclaimed.
"I didn't see you until too late," she defended. "You are the one who stopped to hide yourself right in my path."
"We're supposed to be hunting! It requires speed, stealth and an agile mind." He flicked her on the forehead and she glared, shoving his hand away.
"So you're able to get by on two out of three, then?" she cut back.
His retort was disrupted by a woman's terrified scream.
"What was that?" Merlyn asked nervously.
"Quiet," said the prince, his posture alert.
Distantly, a man cried, "Please! Don't!"
The woman cried again: "Help!"
Arthur grabbed his sword from Merlyn's arms and they rushed off into the undergrowth, stealth abandoned.
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Merlyn wasn't jealous. She was simply… wary of this downright beautiful blonde woman who had immediately captured Arthur's attention.
Okay, so she was a little jealous. But it was a healthy respect of one luckier than herself and not malicious or petty… she hoped.
"Make sure you put her in a decent room," said Arthur.
"The one next door is empty," she pointed out nonchalantly.
"The one next door is fine. Excellent in fact." She smiled at his bluster and he glared at her. "Shut up, Merlyn," he said.
"I didn't say anything!" she defended, throwing her hands up innocently.
"You didn't have to," he said and slumped against his bedpost despondently. "I want to make it clear that my intentions towards Sophia are completely honourable. Put her in the room on the other side of the castle. It's warmer… more comfortable."
"Of course," she said, then added cautiously, "She's… very beautiful."
"Yes, she is," said Arthur, staring into space with a dreamy look on his face.
"And… if your intentions are honourable…"
"Oh, they are," assured the prince. "Most definitely."
"Then what's the problem with her staying next door?" she asked.
He perked up. "There isn't one. You've convinced me. Put her in the room next to mine."
Merlyn hid her smirk by turning away to tend to the room next door. First, Gwen was finding a potential courtship with Lancelot and now Arthur had the first stages of puppy love. Even if she found the prince attractive and had the first stirrings of a silly crush, Merlyn was happy he might find something deeper. Sophia Tír-Mòr was noble born, after all. They could marry with his father's blessing.
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The rest of that day was spent establishing the visitors into their chambers. Merlyn tended to Sophia at Arthur's request, finding the woman soft-spoken and reserved – personalities she had never experienced from a noble before. She helped the woman bathe and brushed out her long, golden hair, quite enjoying tending to a woman for once.
After Sophia was settled for the night, Merlyn skipped over to Arthur's chambers and entered without knocking, big grin on her face. The prince dropped the empty silver plate he had in his hand and turned to her, feigning nonchalance. She frowned suspiciously.
"Were you… looking at yourself in the plate's reflection?" she asked.
"Don't be absurd," he scoffed, pink cheeks betraying his denial. She giggled and clapped a hand to her mouth.
"You look fine," she said. "Very handsome. I'm sure Sophia will appreciate it tomorrow."
"Why are you here, Merlyn?" he grumbled. "You're supposed to be caring for our guest."
"She's in bed right now, sire. The journey and bandits has tired her out. I only came to ask if there was anything you needed before I headed home."
"No," he said, waving her away. "You're dismissed."
She dipped her head. "Have a good night, Arthur."
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"I'm taking Sophia out for a ride today," said Arthur as she dressed him for the day. "You know, show her around."
She frowned at him. "Where do I come into this?"
"Well," he said. "I'm supposed to be on patrol with the guard of my father this morning, so I need you to cover for me."
"What – and lie to the King?" she sputtered. "No. No way! No. He'll see right through me. He'll – he'll have me in the stocks quicker than you can say rotten tomatoes."
"Merlyn," he said beseechingly and she sighed, knowing that she would fold to his wishes. "I need you to do this for me."
"I'm a terrible liar," she warned. "I start sweating, my-my vision blurs, my… my brain stops working right."
"Well, no change there then," he cracked and she pouted at him. "Look, I promised Sophia I'd take her out and if I don't turn up, it'll blow my chances."
She looked down. "You like her then?"
"Yeah," he said, like it was obvious – which it was. "What's not to like? I want to spend some more time with her, but I need to get my father off my back. I can't order you to lie to the King, but… you'd be a friend for life if you did."
Merlyn rubbed her forehead, feeling like today was not going to be a good day. "Go on then," she said, waving him off before she changed her mind. "You don't want to keep her waiting."
He grabbed her hand, grin insatiable. "Thank you, Merlyn. I won't forget it."
"Get," she said, her own lips tugging upward at his enthusiasm. Definitely puppy love.
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Merlyn went about her day on tenterhooks, dreading the moment the King called her in to question Arthur's absence. Just as Gwen was approaching her from across the courtyard, worried expression on her face, a guard called her name.
"Merlyn," he said. It was Henry, one of the sentries she'd tended after the Valiant incident. "The King demands your presence."
She scrunched her nose and closed her eyes, heart thumping in her ears. She still had no idea what she was going to say and just the thought of having the King's anger aimed her way scattered her composure.
She shot Gwen an apologetic smile and fell into step beside the guard, heading towards the Throne Room.
"So what did you do this time?" asked Henry with a sympathetic smile. "His Majesty looks quite irritated."
"Well," began Merlyn. "I wouldn't say it was something I did – though, I suppose it wasn't anybody else's fault either. A simple misunderstanding, I guess, though the situation is a little confusing –"
"Oh dear," he interrupted, to her relief. "Sounds like you're going to have a fun time before the King."
Merlyn dropped her head with a groan. "I have a feeling I know where I'm to end up," she muttered.
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Merlyn's back ached and her head pounded by the time she was released from the stocks. The day was long past its prime when she staggered up the path from the lower town. She smelled awful and people shot her pitying glances as they avoided getting too close. She plodded up the staircase to the physician's chambers and slunk inside stiffly, heading straight for her bedroom to gather clean clothes.
"Have you been playing with your food again?" joked Gaius dryly as she passed, hands busy preparing dinner.
"The King put me in the stocks," she said, disappearing through her door and grabbing another dress then returning to the main room.
Gaius stared at her with a raised eyebrow. "What did you do this time?"
"Nothing," she said, and felt mildly insulted as his sceptical expression, "Honestly, it wasn't my fault." She gathered up a towel, washcloth and her hygiene sack as she explained sullenly, "Arthur wanted to get out of going on patrol with his father and the guard so I covered for him and took the blame."
"And Arthur was prepared to let you do this?" he asked, confused.
She sighed. "It was his idea," she muttered.
"And what made him neglect his duties? It must have been something terribly important."
Merlyn smiled wryly. "Sophia," she said, moving towards the door.
"The girl from the forest?" he exclaimed, alarm lighting his features.
She nodded, not understanding his concern. "He wanted to take her out for the day. He's besotted."
"But they've only just met."
She shrugged. "I know. I guess it must be a love at first sight thing. Anyway," she held up her items; "I'm going to bathe. I smell like the compost heap for the pigs."
Gaius nodded and she left, heading directly for the royal bathhouse. She would have to soak her dress to get the stink out and she still had to tend to Sophia when they returned.
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Sophia sent her away after she delivered the evening meal, not even wanting her to prepare a bath. Confused, she backed out of the room and shut the door, standing still for a moment before heading to Arthur's chambers just up the hall. When she arrived, the door was ajar and she heard voices inside. Unwilling to interrupt, she hesitated.
"Come on," Arthur was saying cockily. "It wouldn't be the first time now would it?"
"Arthur!" exclaimed Morgana. "I'm trying to protect you! She isn't what she seems."
Silently, Merlyn crept closer, intrigued. Arthur said sceptically, "Why? What makes you say that?"
Morgana hesitated. "I just have a feeling. It's difficult to describe. I had a dream. A nightmare."
Arthur laughed, ignoring the solemnity in the noblewoman's tone. "You really are very sweet, Morgana."
"Why are you laughing?" she demanded.
"You!" the prince chortled. "Your feelings; bad dreams. You don't have to make this stuff up. You can tell me the truth. It's obvious you like me."
"Less and less by the second," the woman growled.
"All right," condescended Arthur. "Whatever you say."
"You're intolerable!" she exclaimed. "Just hope I'm wrong about her."
She stormed towards the door and Merlyn wasn't quick enough to hide before she appeared. The noblewoman stopped short at the sight of the younger girl but forwent anger in favour of urgency, grasping her hand and hissing, "Do not let Arthur and Sophia be alone together. Something bad is going to happen. You must believe me."
Merlyn nodded, unable to do much else in the face of her intensity. "I do," she said. "I'll try my best."
"Thank you," sighed Morgana, though the tension in her brow remained. She gave a distracted nod and swept away.
Merlyn stood there, looking after her and experiencing the first inklings of apprehension. Something in Morgana's eyes warned of her certainty and, despite Merlyn's romanticism, she was more inclined to trust Morgana than an infatuated Arthur. The prince could be kind of oblivious.
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The next morning, after working Sunstrider in the round yard, she collected Arthur's armour and headed to his room, intending to bring his breakfast in next. What she found, instead, was Arthur already dressed in a neat outfit, tightening the belt on his hips.
"You're dressed!" she said in surprise.
"Nothing gets past you, does it, Merlyn?" said Arthur dryly.
"But – you're supposed to be wearing these. Your father is bestowing a knighthood on one of your men this morning."
"I'm giving it a miss," he said uncaringly, checking his appearance on the back of a silver plate.
"Won't the King mind?" she said and Arthur glanced in her direction.
"Not if you, er… cover for me again. By the way, thanks for yesterday. I heard you ended up in the stocks. Bad luck."
"Bad – bad luck! They were throwing potatoes at me! It's only supposed to be rotten fruit! I have tender spots on my head!"
"I'm not sure there are any hard-and-fast rules but, if it's any consolation, I think it was worth it."
She huffed but curiosity pushed her to ask, "So it went well?"
"Great," said the prince, eyes faraway. "Fantastic. She's incredible."
"Are you… I didn't think you were so romantic," she said. "I mean, I knew you wanted to marry for love but –" she whistled lowly. "Should we be ringing the church bells?"
Merlyn's gut swooped when Arthur didn't immediately deny it. His face was contemplative and that, in itself, sent alarms ringing. The prince would never think of marriage after only knowing a woman two days. He was spontaneous on a lot of things but regarding love, she knew he was very careful – which was why he hadn't yet married despite his father peddling noblewomen his way.
"I'm, er, I think you should go to the knighting ceremony," she said. "Show your support to your men and all that."
The prince turned to her, expression betrayed. "So you're not going to cover for me then?"
"I-I-I would but – but I don't think your father would take my word for it this time," she explained, scrabbling for ideas. "You only need stay for the twenty minutes in the Throne Room and then I will escort you and Sophia on your venture. You – you can take her on a picnic. They're always pleasant later in the morning anyway."
"But I promised Sophia a stroll through the woods," said Arthur, a whiny edge to his voice.
Merlyn rolled her eyes. "I'm sure she'd enjoy a picnic at the end of that stroll. I'll… I'll even show you one of the glades I visit. It's very beautiful, with some scented flowers and a small stream along its edge."
Arthur's blue eyes narrowed in thought and his lips pursed. "You say it's beautiful?"
"Very," she confirmed. "And you could, perhaps, use the chance to give her a flower or two. She'd like that, I think."
"Very well," he said decisively. "You tell me where this glade is and I'll go to the knighting ceremony."
"Oh – no," she denied. "I-it's too hard to explain, I'll have to show you – a-and I'm sure you don't want to sully Sophia's reputation by not having an escort. I mean… if you really don't want me there, I can call for her father… I'm sure he'd love to accompany you and his only daughter on your romantic walk."
"No!" said Arthur, azure eyes wide with alarm. "No. You're right, your presence would be helpful. I mean, I need someone to carry all the picnic gear, after all."
Merlyn forced herself to smile. She had a feeling today was going to be just as horrible as the previous one.
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Sophia was highly displeased with Merlyn's presence, showing more personality than the whole time the black-haired girl had attended her. And Merlyn didn't like what she saw.
"Why's she here?" Sophia asked Arthur, pretty features scrunched in distaste. "I wanted us to be alone."
Merlyn involuntarily grimaced at the insinuation those words brought. Sophia had only known the prince two days! What a harlot!
"She wanders the forest nearly every morning," soothed Arthur, touching the foreign woman's hand. "She knows the best places for a picnic. I promise, you won't even notice she's there."
Forced to concede, Sophia did with little grace, openly glaring at Merlyn before flouncing away. Arthur also glowered at her, but with pointedness. "You are a ghost, understood. I don't want to hear you speak unless you're spoken to."
With an unhappy frown, she nodded and Arthur turned away in satisfaction. As they walked towards the lower town, the black-haired girl glanced back at the castle only to find Morgana watching them with worry. Merlyn nodded to her, a promise to heed her warnings, and after a moment, the highborn nodded back, understanding.
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Merlyn was utterly disgusted. Weighed down with picnic gear, she made frequent pauses to catch her breath but it hardly mattered since the Prat and the Harlot strolled along as slow as a tortoise. Sophia frequently giggled, clutching at the prince's arm like a barnacle while Arthur had eyes only for her, whispering into her ear and touching her lovely, yellow hair. Merlyn would have found it sweet on anyone else but on them, it was sickening. This was not the Arthur she knew – this was some lovestruck fool.
"We're here!" she called loudly, interrupting their whispers. She dropped her things uncaringly onto the grass and sighed in relief as she rolled her shoulders.
Arthur finally detached himself from Sophia and moved closer to look around. It wasn't one of Merlyn's more coveted areas – though she wouldn't tell him that – but it was nice enough. Several trees had been felled an age ago, leaving a small clearing with spotted sunlight allowing grass to grow. A couple of metres away, a tiny stream trickled and forget-me-nots dotted its banks.
"Not bad," said the prince. "Though with all your frolicking in the forests, I expected something a little grander."
Merlyn scowled at him and said through gritted teeth, "the more fantastic ones can be reached by horse but our Lady Sophia doesn't like them. Therefore, you can deal with what you're given."
"Don't speak to me like that," snapped Arthur and she dropped her head, biting her lip to contain her retort. If Sophia wasn't there…
"Shall I set up, milord? Or do you want to impress your companion with your picnicking skills?"
"I'm sure you can handle it," he said, turning away dismissively. "After all, you are the servant."
Merlyn gritted her teeth harder and set about removing several sticks and rocks from the area before laying out the thick blanket on the grass. She didn't bother spelling the ground dry; let their bums grow damp, she thought nastily.
She retreated to one of the trees while they ate, settling between the protruding roots and carving crude designs into a stick with her herb knife. She kept an eye on the couple but they were back to being nauseatingly flirtatious with each other. She thought some very mean things about them before she frowned at herself. Was she being petty because of jealousy? Was she jealous?
She cocked her head and peered at them, watching Arthur feed Sophia a grape. Her belly clenched with a hot, acidic sensation. Yup, she was jealous. But… Sophia glanced her way before murmuring something to the prince. He snorted then shot her a look also, obviously laughing at her. This wasn't how she expected Arthur to act when he was wooing someone. He was being unnecessarily cruel and actually enjoying when Sophia did the same.
He had been an arrogant toerag when she first met him, but it was an act of bravado with his fellows: the big man with a big head. He had never been malicious and, thankfully, maturity had mellowed his act. However, this was… calculated and callous. Aiming to actually hurt.
"Merlyn," called Arthur, disturbing the girl from her thoughts. She blinked and looked at where he still reclined. "We've finished our meal. You can gather it up and return to the castle. Your service is no longer required."
She stared at him. "Uh… no," she said. "I'm your escort. I'm supposed to remain with you."
"We aren't invalids, Merlyn," he said, sitting up and glaring at her over his shoulder. Beside him, Sophia also glared. "We don't need you spying on us."
She frowned at him, perplexed. "It's not spying if you know I'm here."
Arthur's expression was one of true frustration and he stood up, marching to her. He grabbed her arm and yanked her upright, ignoring her yelp of protest. "Why are you disobeying me like this," he hissed, keeping his voice low. "I thought you wanted me with Sophia, but now you're acting like-like some jealous harpy."
She gaped at him and yanked her arm free. "You agreed to my presence because you didn't want Sophia's reputation to be ruined! Why are you changing your mind now?" an unbidden thought rose in her mind and she grabbed his wrist, choking out, "Are you going to have relations with her?"
"Of course not!" he growled, shoving her hand away. "I would never dishonour her in such a way."
"Then why do you want me gone? I'm just as much her escort as your helper. An unmarried woman shouldn't be alone with an eligible man, particularly one of noble birth."
"She doesn't want you here," he snapped. "She says you annoy her, and frankly, you annoy me. So leave us in peace!"
She jerked back at his tone; hurt hitting her right in the heart. But she didn't let it break her resolve, lifting her chin and setting her jaw. "You said that you would listen if I brought any suspicions forth, no matter how outrageous they may sound," she said. "This is one such occasion. Please," she implored. "Let me stay."
He gritted his teeth and glanced back at Sophia. The blonde stared at him expectantly but he sighed heavily, turning to Merlyn once more. "Fine," he bit out. "Stay. But remain out of my sight and only speak if you wish to spend another day in the stocks."
He spun away and returned to his companion. She asked him something quietly and he replied shortly. Sophia gaped in anger and scowled at Merlyn furiously. The black-haired girl could have sworn her eyes flickered red but it was gone a moment later and she couldn't be sure it wasn't a trick of the light. Nevertheless, she was very careful to ghost through the trees at their right as they headed back to the castle. She'd had enough rotten fruit thrown at her for the week, thank you, and she didn't want to test their patience.
Merlyn was forced to leave their side to return the scraps and dirty dishes to the kitchens but she moved as quickly as she could. She dropped the empty picnic basket in the cupboard and dashed back up the stairs with a tray of tea and biscuits. However, when she arrived in the hall, hairs rose all over her skin and her steps quietened instinctively. She snuck up to the door and heard Sophia murmuring. She leant closer to decipher the words.
"… Jamea mortharisher. Tuck von phrixur…"
Merlyn gasped. Sophia was using magic!
Without hesitation, she shoved the door open, the tray of tea and biscuits tumbling from her grasp and shattering on the ground. "Stop!" she cried. "Don't harm him!"
Sophia jumped away from the prince, her red eyes returning to normal within a blink. Arthur's, too, glowed unnaturally before returning to their bright cornflower blue. Merlyn held up a hand in warning as she demanded, "What are you doing to him?"
"What are you talking about?" asked Sophia, voice soft and frightened. "Arthur, your servant is mad."
"Stop pretending," snapped Merlyn. "I heard you incanting a spell. What sorcery was that? What have you done to Arthur?" indeed, the prince appeared confused and hazy, not reacting timely to their conversation. "Arthur?" she called more gently. "Are you alright?"
She tried to draw close but Sophia cringed behind him. "Don't let her hurt me, Arthur," she cried.
Instantly, his hand went to the sword still attached to his belt. "Leave her alone, Merlyn," he growled; "Or I'll have you in the stocks."
She stopped. "She's a sorcerer, Arthur! She's befuddled you or-or slowed your thoughts. She's not what she seems."
The blonde prince paused, staring at her. She put up her hands, placating. "You must trust me. I'm your loyal servant, Arthur. I would never harm or lie to you. She's bewitched you with magic."
"Don't listen to her, Arthur," crooned Sophia. "She's jealous and spiteful. She would see me burn on the pyre so she can have you for herself."
Merlyn snarled at her. "Arthur can choose his own love; he needs no help from me – except to save him from deceitful enchantresses! Wait until the King hears of your trickery. He hates sorcery more than anyone, and you've dared harm his son. You'll be boiled in a vat of oil!"
"Merlyn?" muttered Arthur, still staring at her in confusion.
She stepped forward and grabbed his arm. "Come with me," she murmured, keeping his focus on her. "Trust me, Arthur." She moved her hand down to tangle her fingers with his, ready to tow him along.
Her distraction, however, allowed Sophia to send out a pulse of magic and Merlyn was sent soaring backwards. Arthur gave a fearful shout as she skidded over the table and tumbled to the floor, rolling into the tall dresser with a solid thump. She coughed for breath as she was winded but forced her bruised body to move. She pushed herself up on shaky arms and glared at the sorceress. The blonde woman was smirking, one hand stroking Arthur's hair. The man himself was unmoving, eyes glazed with a red haze.
"We're in love, Arthur and I," she said. "And we'll not be ripped apart by the schemes of a jealous servant. Goodbye Merlyn." Before the black-haired girl could raise her hands, Sophia slashed her staff at the dresser. With a deep groan, it fell forward.
Merlyn had barely a second to cover her head before the heavy piece of furniture slammed atop her with the force of a sledgehammer. She was unconscious before her face hit the floor.
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"…rlyn… Merlyn…"
Everything ached. Each movement felt like someone was stabbing her back. Her head pounded furiously, the worst migraine she ever remembered having.
"… Merlyn…"
She tried to respond but drawing breath robbed her words and drew a cry of pain instead.
"Shh, shh," someone said in a teary voice. A woman. Gwen. "Rest, Merlyn." A damp washcloth wiped over her forehead, soothing a little of the throbbing in her skull.
"G… Gw –"
"I'm here. Shh. Just rest and you'll wake up feeling better."
Her hold on consciousness fled.
Sometime later, memory came back to her in a flash. She shot upright with a gasp, only to double over with a cry. She slipped sideways but was saved from greeting the floor by gentle hands circling her body.
"Easy," a male said, replacing her on the bed and bracing her against his chest. She curled into foetal position to try to escape the pain. Lancelot said, "Breathe, Merlyn."
She sucked in obediently but faltered as her back screamed in protest. She jerked instinctively and whimpered when it only worsened the agony. Calloused hands brushed back her hair and Lancelot murmured above her, "I'm sorry. I know it hurts but you must breathe, Merlyn. Breathe."
She shook her head against his torso, panting shallowly. "Here," he said and she forced her eyes to open a crack to see a vial of some sort of concoction held before her. Lancelot touched the back of her head and she obediently opened her mouth for him to tip it forth. She tasted the familiar, bitter blend of the common pain relief tonic. Simply recognising it and knowing that her suffering was soon to be dulled had her feeling better.
"Arthur –" she choked out, eyes clenched together once more. "He's in trouble."
"Why do you think that?" asked Lancelot, arms tightening attentively around her shoulders.
"Sophia – she's a sorceress. She's bewitched Arthur somehow. She's very powerful. I didn't – I didn't realise until she attacked me. I underestimated her."
"Don't blame yourself," said her friend, brushing a hand over her knotted hair, careful not to touch the large egg swelling at her crown. "Do you know how she bewitched the prince?" he asked. "Was it a spell? Potion? Er… ritual?"
"Some… some sort of spell," murmured Merlyn, eyes closed and feeling tired as the throbbing of her body slowly eased. "Both her and his eyes went red. But I don't think… I don't think she completed enchanting him then. Arthur appeared confused and still listened to reason. I don't know… about now. How long was I out?"
"Several hours," said Lancelot. "At first… at first Gaius feared the damage would kill you. When Arthur said that his heavy dresser fell on you… Gaius said that head injuries are nearly impossible to predict and you could be bleeding into your brain. That you've awakened means you aren't, and for that, I'm grateful. You would be greatly missed, my friend."
"As I would miss you in the afterlife," replied Merlyn with a weak smile he couldn't see.
Silence fell for a few minutes, Merlyn fighting to stay awake. Then Lancelot asked tentatively, "What can we do about Prince Arthur? Tell the King?"
"I'm not… I know not yet," she said, forcing her tired eyes open. "I believe the spell will be broken with Sophia's death but I do not want to coldly murder her. But she is too powerful to be held by the King's chains. Only a Magical Cuff would restrain her but I know not how to create them."
"Such cuffs exist?" asked Lancelot with surprise. "Why does the King not possess them?"
Merlyn pushed herself up off her friend's chest, body shaky but obedient to her commands. She squinted at him. "Magic is required to create them. Runes are inscribed in the metal and some sort of ritual is performed, though I know not more. The book I possess does not go into detail, only stating that it traps the sorcerer's magic and, in some cases, their spirit. Such an idea unnerves me enough not to explore it."
He dipped his head in agreement and Merlyn shifted her legs to climb out of bed. He lunged forward in alarm. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "Gaius said you are not to leave the bed until the swelling has gone down."
She looked at him askance. "Arthur is in danger – whether he is about to sell his soul to a she-demon or die by her hand, I know not. I cannot lie in bed while he stands vulnerable to her whims."
Lancelot clenched his hands, fighting with himself. "Alright," he finally sighed. "But first, tell me your plan."
"Oh," she said dumbly. "Well… I don't really have one at this point. I need to check her out a little more before I know what to do. I know little about her father, Aulfric. He hasn't done much but remain in his room, and shows little care for his daughter wandering the woods with a man – which is peculiar, is it not? That a nobleman cares not for the virtue of his daughter."
"Indeed," said Lancelot with a frown. "For many suitors, a woman's virtue is one of the selling points of marriage eligibility."
"So I'm not mad," she sighed, pushing herself to her feet and wobbling in her hunched state. The brown-haired knight steadied her with a worried frown but she ignored it, gesturing to the floor on the other side of the bed. "My – my magic book is hidden under a loose floorboard. Would you – could you –?"
He nodded and moved around the bed, letting her guide him until his fingers found purchase on the correct slat. He peered inside interestedly and pulled out the cloth-covered tome. "Good hiding spot," he said. "No one would think to look beneath the floor."
He re-joined her and, together, they shuffled down the steps to the main chamber. The knight set her down at the table with the book and went to the window to collect the pail under the eaves. He paused in the act of unhitching it and stared at something in the dark.
"What is it?" Merlyn asked, standing up slowly and making her careful way to his side.
He helped her step up onto the crate below the window and pointed towards the lower town. Merlyn squinted through the gloom and distance, about to ask what he was pointing to when she saw it. Or rather, him. Aulfric.
He had his cloak obscuring his body and was spiriting through the shadows towards the gates but the peculiar staff in his hands gave him away.
Immediately, Merlyn turned from the window and clambered off the crate. She staggered and yipped as she jarred her body, almost falling before Lancelot steadied her. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"You must check on the status of the Prince," she said, ignoring his question. "Make sure that Aulfric and Sophia haven't coerced him to leave. I need to follow him to see where he's going."
Her brown-haired friend grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving away. "You can barely stand, how do you intend to keep up with him through a forest?"
"I'm… I'll take my steed," she said.
"Not hunched over like an old crone, you'll not. You won't be able to get on his back. Let me go in your stead. I can follow him much more quietly than a horse and I'll report back to you what I see."
Merlyn shook her head. "Aulfric could have magic also. You'll have no defense if he catches you; it's much too dangerous."
"Then, if you must go at all, we will go together," Lancelot decided firmly.
"But –" Merlyn cut herself off. "Fine! We haven't the time to argue." She shuffled towards the door with her teeth gritted but Lancelot gave a frustrated huff and stepped in front of her.
She stopped and demanded, "What are you doing?"
"We'll never catch him at that speed," he turned away so his back was to her and squatted. "Climb onto my back."
"You want to piggyback me?" she asked.
Lancelot rolled his eyes. "If you wish to catch up to Aulfric then I suggest you concede this indignity."
Merlyn snorted but awkwardly stepped closer. Lancelot hooked his arms behind her legs. She said, "Are you sure you'll not tire? We know not how far – eep!" Lancelot stood with her in his arms and she latched onto him in surprise.
He chuckled deeply and hitched her higher. "I'll have no trouble carrying your weight," he said. "You are lighter than my chainmail. Have you been skipping meals?"
"No," retorted Merlyn, a little insulted. "Are you calling me a bag of bones?"
"I would never be so rude," he replied. "But…"
"Urgh! Definitely rude," she muttered then kicked his sides gently. "Move on, my uncouth steed. Our journey begins."
He laughed lightly but obeyed and they trotted down the stairs to catch up to Aulfric. The guards halted them at the main gate but Lancelot ignored their perplexed expressions and asked the head guard if anyone else had recently left the city.
"Nay," he said with a faint northern accent. "You're the first since the sun set, sir."
"Nothing strange at all occurred?"
"Well… there was a moment where we all felt a little dizzy but it passed quickly and no one's worse for wear." The man changed the pike from one hand to the other. "We've been vigilant in our duties, Sir Lancelot."
"Of that, I have no doubt, captain," he said. "Your work has been exemplary. Merlyn and I will be back before the sun rises. Keep a lookout, for I have no desire to be arrowed tonight."
"Er – yes, sir," he said and snapped to attention, highly confused but unwilling to question one of higher rank. He and his fellows watched with bewildered faces as Lancelot marched away, Merlyn still perched like a child on his back. Favian, her closest guard friend, shook his head from the parapet. She waved at him.
Once they had disappeared into the forest path, Lancelot slowed. "So… any idea which way to go?" he asked.
"Give me a minute," she said and closed her eyes. "Onhwirfedness seon, drýlác gerihtrece mín stíg."
Her eyes flashed with heat and she opened them to find the world slightly warped. Energy had coloured the world into a miasma of effervescent trails like glittering slime left by snails and slugs. The plants and unseen animals pulsed with different rhythms, blues and greens and browns and yellows; an orange-coated hare darted through the underbrush, leaving a faint glowing trail, as if the colour was leaking from the creature's body. The whole thing was almost overwhelming to her senses.
She must have made a disconcerted noise because Lancelot said, "What is it?"
"Oh, just –" she blinked a few times and her brain adjusted. She reached out a hand to the nearest tree and felt the slow thrum of evergreen life under her hand, deep and harmonised with the earth. "Just magic, is all."
Lancelot snorted quietly and Merlyn pointed over his shoulder. "That way," she said, seeing a sky-blue luminescent trail layered over the true path through the forest and somehow knowing it would lead to their quarry. Her knight friend didn't argue and moved forward quickly, trusting her to guide him true. Just like a real steed.
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They squatted in the shadows of the trees as Aulfric summoned an audience with someone unknown. Merlyn stared in awe as a blue glow grew over the lake's surface and a hazy city became visible. She felt the magic pulsing through the air, vibrating through her very body. Several small sparks of light zoomed from the city and flew in the sky above Aulfric's head but she was disrupted from her awe when Lancelot let out a gasp of pain.
Her head shot towards him and found his gaze locked on the ghostly city while his skin paled before her eyes. "Lancelot!" she hissed urgently, nudging him. He didn't respond, stare unmoving, breath stilled.
She looked back at Aulfric but it wasn't his doing. He didn't know they were there.
"Lancelot, look at me!" she demanded, trying to grab his head but failing to turn it. "Stop looking at the city!"
She covered his eyes and the reaction was instant, he sucked in a ragged breath and collapsed against her. She grunted under his weight but guided his head to her lap, stroking his hair worriedly. "Are you well? Are you hurt? What happened?" her other hand hovered over his torso but she could find no ailment to treat.
"I – I don't know," he panted, voice hoarse. "I s-saw the city and it was as if it beckoned the very soul from my body, stealing my breath and squeezing my heart." He shuddered. "I was unable to break away. Thank you," he breathed, staring up at her. "You saved my life. Again."
She shook her head. "You would not be here, were it not for me so there is no debt." She looked back at the lake and found one of the blots of light was hovering before Aulfric. She used her magic to slow time and saw it was not merely a spark but, in fact, a little humanoid creature. It was light blue and had very large, pointed ears, like a bat. Merlyn touched her own big ears and, for once, was grateful for their size. She would be humiliated with ones as large as theirs.
The sharp-toothed being was saying, "…punishment for killing another Sidhe is a mortal body and a mortal life. You will never be able to return to Avalon."
"The crime was mine, not my daughter's," said Aulfric pleadingly.
"The gates of Avalon remain closed to your daughter… unless the soul of a mortal prince be offered up to them." the thing grinned wickedly and Merlyn's wonder turned to horror. What a sadistic little creature.
However, Aulfric seemed please. "Thank you," he said. "An immortal life for my daughter is all that I desire, so I promise you the soul of the greatest prince of all: Arthur Pendragon!"
The blue being had a peculiar grin on its face, not quite smug, not quite knowing. It said nothing, only bowed before it and its brethren vanished back into the ethereal city, which quickly faded from view. Once alone, Aulfric began laughing manically and Merlyn touched Lancelot's shoulder pressingly.
"The city is gone now," she whispered. "Did you hear what was said?"
"Bits and pieces," he murmured, rubbing an ear. "My heartbeat was pounding too loudly. Arthur is to be sacrificed for Sophia?"
Merlyn nodded, hunching down instinctively when Aulfric turned back towards the city, still chortling to himself and oblivious to his audience. "They aren't human," she breathed once she was sure the old man was gone. "The life of Arthur is payment for Sophia to return to Avalon – that city, I think. We must return to Gaius."
Together, they winced and groaned their way to their feet before turning back towards the castle. Worriedly, Merlyn touched Lancelot's brow but he grasped her hand with a reassuring smile.
"I'm improving with every breath," he said. "I am weary but no longer on death's door. You need not fret."
She forced a smile in return but kept a close eye on him as they ambled gingerly through the forest. She was still uncertain to what had transpired and feared a reoccurrence.
She felt both more relieved and more confused when Gaius explained upon their return: "Avalon. What you saw at the lake. It is the land of eternal youth. Mortals are only supposed to glimpse it at the moment before death."
"It almost killed Lancelot," she said, glancing at the knight beside her. His pointed look told her he was still okay. "But I was perfectly fine," she added, mystified.
Gaius' eyebrow rose. "Extraordinary," he murmured. "Lancelot is a mortal; he's lucky to have survived."
"And I?"
"You, Merlyn," said the old man on a sigh. "Are something completely unique. As a creature of magic, you may not appear as a mortal to Avalon's defences, granting you immunity." He paused for a moment then asked, "What did it look like?"
"Does it matter?" she said. "They're going to sacrifice Arthur and we don't even know who 'they' are yet."
"We do now," corrected Gaius, moving to his desk. Merlyn and Lancelot followed. "I found writing like this on the top of Aulfric's staff. It's Ogham, an ancient script. Abad ocus bithe. Duthectad bithlane. 'To hold life and death in your hands.'" He met their eyes and explained, "From the writing on his staff and what you saw at the lake, I'm afraid I'm now certain: we're dealing with the Sidhe."
"That does not sound like a good thing," she said, reading his expression.
"They're master of enchantment."
"How can I stop them?" she asked urgently. "I don't think they can be reasoned with."
"You are lucky to survive the encounter you had," he said. "I would greatly argue against confronting them directly again. They are an ancient race that sees mortals as little more than a passing flicker. They are extremely dangerous."
"I'll be careful," she assured him. "But I cannot let them kill Arthur." She shook her head, confusion pinching her features. "Why is Sophia entrancing him this way? They've had ample opportunity to sacrifice him."
Lancelot piped up tentatively, "Perhaps the ritual must be done at the gates of Avalon."
"And some sacrifices require a willing heart," added Gaius. "If Arthur is beguiled enough not to notice her attack you with magic, Merlyn, then perhaps he is enchanted enough to welcome death by her hand."
Merlyn clenched her fists. "I'll not let that happen," she growled. "She's stripped him of his dignity and wits. I'll not let her steal his life also."
She marched over to the table where her magic book remained open and flopped into a seat to scour its pages. There had to be something to defeat the Sidhe. Those arrogant blue insects would not take Arthur from her.
"I'll visit the prince in the morning," said Lancelot. "And remain by his side while you figure out a plan of action." She shot him a look and he assured with a dip of his head, "I have complete faith in your abilities, Merlyn. You'll find a way."
She grumbled under her breath and turned back to her book. Lancelot bid them goodnight and headed for the door. She called, "Be careful, Lancelot. When I say Arthur has lost his wits, I mean he is almost under Sophia's complete control. Don't test his or her patience and if they want you to leave, obey. Please; I don't think Arthur would forgive himself if anything happened to you while under that enchantress's influence."
"I'll watch myself," he said. "Just be sure you do the same. He'll already despise himself for allowing you to be hurt. I have no wish to see him further anguished."
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Merlyn didn't even realise she'd fallen asleep until she was jolted awake by Lancelot slamming open the physician's door and rushing inside. She snorted upright but her aching back protested and she slipped sideways, falling to the floor in a hunched heap.
"Ow," she mumbled, hissing as she pushed her arms beneath her.
Arms slid under hers and scooped her up with ease. "You're hopeless, Merlyn," Lancelot said with affectionate exasperation.
"Yet you still call me friend," she quipped with a strained breath as her back whined in pain. "Why did you charge in here so madly?"
He dusted her shoulders then shifted his position to meet her eyes. He said gravely, "The prince has gone to petition the King for Sophia's hand in marriage."
"What!" she exclaimed. "This is not good. This is very not good."
"I believe it was Sophia's suggestion," he added. "Though, to what end, I cannot be certain."
"Why would she request that if she's going to kill him anyway?" she agreed. She looked around for her mentor. "Where's Gaius?"
"I believe he's doing his usual rounds as Court Physician," he said.
"What time is it?" Merlyn asked, askance. She peered at the window to see sunlight shining in at a steep angle.
"Late morning," the knight said and the black-haired girl blinked in astonishment.
"Why would Gaius leave me to sleep?" she muttered, annoyed. She rubbed a hand over her face and glanced at her friend apologetically. "I've found nothing on how to defeat the Sidhe. There's hardly any lore on them except that they're a highly reserved race that view humans as beneath them."
"Was there mention about their staffs? They refuse to be parted with them for any length of time."
"Actually, no," said Merlyn thoughtfully, head tilted. "And it said nothing about Sidhe being banished as humans. Perhaps they concentrate their magic through them. Crystals are used to stabilise, and runes to focus. Maybe if we relieved them of the staffs, it would weaken them enough for me to… to stop them."
"Perhaps I could draw close enough to slay them with steel," said Lancelot. "Death is not an unusual companion to me and you should not be forced into actions you are not comfortable with."
"No," she denied. "They could kill you with a flick of their hand before you were anywhere near them. It has to be me. It'll be okay. It's not premeditated if its self-defence."
Lancelot dipped his head in agreement and Merlyn was about to return to studying the magic book when her belly growled like a hungry beast. She put a hand to it and blushed. "I guess I haven't eaten in a while," she realised.
Her friend shook his head and put an arm around her back, guiding her to the door. "Then you should eat before you continue pushing yourself. How's your head today?"
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Word reached them of Uther's reaction to Arthur's request-turned-demand to marry Sophia, and Merlyn knew, she knew, that this was Sophia's plan all along. With that blonde harlot whispering in his ear, Arthur was sure to do something reckless – like elope. She had to steal the Sidhe staffs.
Lancelot told Merlyn he was returning to Arthur's side but she worried that something bad would happen. "Whatever they have planned is reaching its climax. You have no protection if they decide to hurt you."
"Sophia will not let you remain by the prince's side, Merlyn," he replied, guessing her thoughts. "You are a threat."
"They don't know I have magic," she said. "They don't know that I'm a threat."
"It is not your magic I'm talking about," Lancelot elaborated with a soft smile. "You have a strong bond with Prince Arthur; strong enough to upset Sophia's hold over his emotions. She will ensure you are unable to harm her plans, one way or the other."
Merlyn chewed on her lip and finally conceded. "Fine. But I will still accompany you to his chambers. I'll hide nearby and keep watch. If Sophia tries to use magic, I'll stop her."
Lancelot's face displayed his unhappiness but he relented to her stubbornness. Together, they ventured to the Royal Wing.
The brown-haired knight knocked on the door to Arthur's bedchambers but the prince didn't respond, even as they heard him moving around inside. Hesitantly, Lancelot opened the door and entered, Merlyn out of sight against the wall. Once he disappeared from her sight, she hurried a little further down the hall to another, smaller door. With a whispered word to unlock it, Merlyn slipped inside and shut it again.
Before her was the servant's quarters; a small, unadorned, windowless room with only enough space for a narrow bed and small chest of drawers. Perpendicular to her position, the door into Arthur's main chambers stood, also locked.
Another quiet spell and the lock released, allowing Merlyn to crack it open and peer through to hear Lancelot speaking with Arthur. From her location, she couldn't see them very well, buried into the far corner as the door was but noise travelled clearly. She looked out at Arthur's luxurious four-poster bed and listened as her knight friend tried to sympathise with the prince.
"Perhaps if you were to slow your courting, sire, give the King a little time to realise his heir has fallen in love…"
"My father will never see reason," grumbled Arthur, sounding as if he was moving around. There were the faint clinks of chainmail and Merlyn frowned. Why was he wearing chainmail?
"You have only known the Lady Sophia a short while. It could be that the King is simply –"
She heard someone else enter and realised it was Sophia when she said in that false, quiet tone of hers; "Arthur, I wish to speak with you alone."
Instantly, the prince said to Lancelot, "Leave us."
He hesitated. "Honour demands I stay while –"
"Leave!"
A longer pause. "Of course, sire," said Lancelot and there was soon a click as the main door was quietly closed.
"I told you people would try to keep us apart," crooned Sophia.
"I know," replied Arthur, tone softening. "I won't let that happen."
"We can elope together. Get away from this place, these people."
"People…" murmured the prince, sounding unsure.
"Start fresh, somewhere where no one will judge us for our love. But we need to leave soon: tonight."
"So we can be together. 'Til death do us part."
"'Til death do us part," she parroted and Merlyn thought it awfully ironic. Then Sophia incanted, "Túce hwón frec'úre, artur."
"I don't think so," snarled Merlyn and leapt from the side room. "Stop your schemes, enchantress!"
Sophia jumped in surprise but Arthur remained gazing at the blonde woman dazedly. She recovered quickly and smirked at the black-haired girl. "You cannot stop me," she said smugly. "I hold power beyond your wildest dreams."
Merlyn's gaze flickered involuntarily to her staff and the woman's smile grew at her awareness. Merlyn said, "I know what you plan for Arthur. I followed your father last night and I know you mean to sacrifice him to buy your way back to Avalon." She shook her head in disgust while Sophia blinked in surprise. "You have no right to Arthur's life. He is to be King of Camelot and I will not let you change his future."
"You have no choice," remarked Sophia, looking her up and down. "Who are you but a mere peasant, one who has no voice and no power? You are weak. And in my way." She lifted her staff but the main chamber door burst open and Lancelot appeared, his weapon drawn. Arthur flinched at the noise.
"Lay down your staff, sorceress," ordered Lancelot. "And release Prince Arthur from your bewitchments."
Sophia snarled at him and her eyes glowed red but a blast of magic hit the knight from behind before she could act. Merlyn shouted in alarm as Lancelot fell forward limply, revealing Aulfric framed in the entrance. Merlyn saw Lancelot's chest still rise and fall and relief made her weak. He was only unconscious, not dead.
Arthur frowned at the downed knight. "Lancelot?" he mumbled, taking a step forward. Sophia intercepted him, face upturned towards his own. Merlyn crept closer, eyes on the staff in Sophia's grip.
"Leave him," she lilted. "He tried to tear us apart. He doesn't wish you well, Arthur. Not like I do. Please, we need to leave before the King tries to sentence me to death again."
"I'll never let that happen," insisted Arthur, cupping her cheek. "I'll protect you with my life."
"Then protect me far away from here," she plead, leaning into his touch.
"No!" shouted Merlyn, taking a furious step forward. "Arthur, listen to me! She wishes to sacrifice you to the Sidhe. If you go with her, you will die!"
Arthur frowned at her. "But we're in love," he said.
She shook her head with an apologetic expression. "What you feel isn't love; its obsession created by a pretty face, and built upon with enchantments and lies."
His features twisted into anger. "Who are you to tell me how I feel?" he demanded.
"I'm your friend," she said, inching nearer. He scoffed.
"No, Merlyn," he denied. "You're my servant."
She pushed down the hurt and reminded herself that it wasn't Arthur speaking. "Remember your promise to me, Arthur. You said you would listen to my suspicions without bias. I need you to hold yourself to your oath; Sophia is not what she seems. Think about what she's making you do; abandon your kingdom and people, leave your father without an heir. You would never do that! And particularly not for some harlot you met days ago!"
Arthur swallowed heavily, staring at her and Sophia glared. Behind them both stood Aulfric, staff ready to strike. Merlyn glanced at Sophia's, held loosely as she pressed into the prince.
The blonde woman stroked his face, drawing his eyes back to her. "Arthur," she murmured, leaning up so her nose brushed his. "Come away with me."
Merlyn lunged forward and managed to plant her fingers around Sophia's staff but the other woman managed to keep a hold of it when she pulled. With a shriek, she fell into Merlyn and sent them both tumbling to the ground. The black-haired girl landed with an, "Oomph!" but didn't let the shock loosen her grip. A brief struggle ensued.
A blast of energy shot out of the crystal atop the staff like an arrow and Arthur's nightstand exploded as it was struck. Everyone ducked and in the fleeting distraction, Merlyn was grabbed from behind and torn away from the blonde woman. She gave an angry shout and kicked out her legs but the person squeezed her ruthlessly until she shuddered with a winded whimper, her tender back protesting.
Arthur snarled in her ear, "How dare you assault Sophia! I should have you flogged." He threw Merlyn away and she landed awkwardly on her shoulder as she rolled.
She cried out as her aches flared with pain and shuddered, body too stunned to move. Slowly, the initial wave gave way to renewed throbbing and she coughed breathlessly as she curled on her side. She took a breath and forced herself to focus, peering up to see Aulfric with his staff pointed at her. A jolt of fear ignited the magic in her veins and made her skin itch with static.
"You have irritated us enough," the old man growled. "Time to die. Na mben sis!"
Merlyn squeaked and threw up her hands. Her magic pulsed forth in an invisible wave and the opposing energies collided with a startling explosion. Merlyn was thrown back, as were all the objects in the room, including Aulfric, Sophia and Arthur. The last thing Merlyn saw was the startled expression on the old man's face.
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So that's that. Also – I am so, so happy right now. I've been stuck on this stupid part of a chapter I'm writing for SIX WHOLE WEEKS! And I'm finally through it! Hooray! I had to get everything perfectly right because the tiny little details mentioned in it has repercussions that changes things later, but it just wasn't coming out right! I had rewritten the whole chapter about six times and was ready to scrape my eyeballs from their sockets BUT I started posting this story pretty much as I reached that chapter and all the reviews I received seriously helped me push through the fiddly re-re-re-re-rewrites. So THANK YOU to those who reviewed, favourited and followed since the beginning, each one was a port in the storm I was weathering.
One other thing; I have a few names for the griffin but I'm not too sure which to pick. There's Kadriyah, which means Destiny in Arabic; Asteria, which is the Greek goddess of night oracles and falling stars; and my original – Nightfire. If anyone has a preference, I'd love to hear it…
Cheerio.