- 10 -

Merlin hadn't been able to take his mind off the nightmare he'd had the night before. It followed him around like a lurking shadow, distracting him from his duties to Arthur and earning him a knock to the head from a bucket.

"You seem distracted," Arthur told him as Merlin half-heartedly rubbed his aching head.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Merlin commented.

"Me? What have I done? Besides knock you on the head with a bucket." He grinned at these last words.

"Yeah, thanks for that." He rubbed his head again.

"Seriously though, something is on your mind."

"It's nothing, really. You were gone early this morning," Merlin changed the subject.

"Now you're trying to distract me," Arthur said.

"You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask a question. You just made a comment."

"It's just, you're usually still in bed and I have to drag you out before you'll wake up."

"I just wanted to get some fresh air," Arthur answered vaguely.

"Right," Merlin said, grinning.

"What?"

"So you went out for some air. Did you meet anyone along the way?"

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact. I met some guards. I even said good morning to a baker. Happy?"

"You know that's not what I meant," Merlin said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, whatever you meant, you're talking in riddles, and I don't have time for that."

"Right, you probably have to go prepare for the tournament tomorrow."

"Exactly. And that is where you come in handy." Arthur had that look on his face again.

"Oh, you wouldn't want me helping you train." Merlin edged toward the door.

"Oh, don't worry. I have a very special task for you."

…

"Ready, Merlin?" Arthur shouted from where he sat astride his horse across the field. Merlin stood in the center of the field holding a small metal circle above his head. He eyed the lance Arthur was holding.

"Ready." Ready? Who in their right mind would ever be ready to become a jousting target? Merlin thought to himself.

Arthur kicked his horse into action, holding the jousting pole out before him, aimed carefully at the small ring Merlin held above his head. Merlin couldn't help it. He shut his eyes tight as Arthur rode past. There was a jerk, and the ring came free from his hands, sliding down the jousting pole. Arthur reined in his horse, riding back to where Merlin stood.

"Don't be such a girl," he told Merlin, tossing him the ring. "Hold it a little lower this time."

"And get my head taken off?" he asked indignantly. Suddenly their attention was distracted by a rider galloping across the field toward them. Merlin recognized Ryll as she got closer astride her small, chestnut mare. She pulled up alongside them.

"Ryll, nice to see you," Arthur said stiffly.

Ryll looked unconcerned. "Can I join you?" she asked. "I wanted to practice."

"For what?" Arthur asked.

"I was thinking about joining the tournament."

Arthur stared at her for a moment, frowning. "You can't though, it's-"

"I'm joking. I just wanted to practice. I haven't jousted in a long time."

"But you have jousted?" Arthur looked unconvinced.

"No, not really. I was hoping you could teach me. I'm a good horse rider, as you know." Something passed between the two of them.

"Alright."

"Not on me." Merlin said at once.

"What?" Ryll turned to him.

"You're not going to practice with me as the target." He shook his head.

Ryll smiled. "I was hoping to use Arthur as my opponent." She turned to the prince. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," Arthur said, and Merlin felt a jolt of relief.

"But you can't hold back just because I'm a girl and you don't want to bruise me," Ryll warned him.

"Let's just practice for now," Arthur told her.

Merlin walked back a good few paces, distancing himself as he watched Arthur show Ryll how to hold the jousting pole properly. She seemed to catch on quickly.

"Merlin, go and fetch some armor from the armory. Something lightweight," Arthur called to him. Merlin nodded to show he'd heard and then headed off to retrieve the armor. As he grabbed some chainmail, he decided to help Ryll out a little. He held his hand out to the mail and said an incantation to make the armor impenetrable. Then, grabbing the mail, he headed back to the field. Ryll dismounted and allowed him to help her into the armor.

"Thanks, Merlin," she whispered, smiling at him. She swung into the saddle, and Merlin stood back to watch. He felt his breath catch a little as he looked at Ryll in her chainmail. It was slightly too big, but even so, she looked like a warrior astride her horse. She grinned at Merlin before taking a position and waiting for Arthur to take his position opposite of her. Merlin watched as both kicked their horses forward. Ryll grappled with the lance for a moment before steadying it in a position aimed at Arthur. Arthur's lance was perfectly balanced. Merlin knew he would pull up before actually hitting Ryll though even if they had tied cloth sacks filled with sheep's wool to the tips of the lances for padding. As the two horses came close to passing, Arthur pulled up and Ryll's lance glanced off of his side. Merlin could see the look of annoyance on her face for Arthur's mercy, but she said nothing.

"Try aiming a little more to the right and a little higher," Arthur called out to her. She nodded, a determined look on her face as she gripped the lance a little tighter. "You're at a disadvantage because your horse is so small. Merlin can bring you one of my horses, if you'd like."

"That's alright," Ryll said. "I'll hold the lance higher." They turned their horses and took positions again. As the horses surged forward, Merlin watched with baited breath as the two lances came toward each opponent. Arthur didn't pull up this time, but when the lance hit Ryll, it hit her shoulder. Ryll's lance struck Arthur straight in the chest. Both faltered, but stayed astride their horses. They turned, Ryll with a triumphant look on her face.

"Very good," Arthur told her.

"You held back."

"I've been doing this for ages. I didn't want to hurt you," Arthur reasoned.

"I suppose that's only fair," Ryll conceded. Merlin sensed that – very much like Arthur – Ryll had an insatiable need to be the best at everything. He watched as Arthur gave her tips and showed her how to knock her opponent off his horse. She listened eagerly, and Merlin could see a glimmer come into her eyes. He'd recognize that look anywhere. She was about to do something that was dangerous and probably not a good idea. It was a look Gaius frequently saw on Merlin's own face. Merlin wondered what she was planning.

Ryll and Arthur practiced for close to an hour, and Merlin could see the improvements. Though Arthur had started hitting Ryll each time, she had struck a few blows as well. The armor resisted under Merlin's spell, and Ryll stayed firmly seated in the saddle. After both were panting, Arthur called for a halt.

"You're going to win the tournament tomorrow, Arthur," Ryll told the prince as they rode toward Merlin.

"He usually does. Or rather, always does," Merlin put in, grinning. Arthur gave him a look that clearly said 'shut up.'

"Oh, does he?" Ryll took the bait. "You better watch out. Someone might come along who's better than you." Her eyes sparkled with humor, and Arthur gave her a smile.

"It's possible," he conceded, though Merlin could tell he was just trying to be modest.

"But not probable." Merlin knew that Arthur was the best in the kingdom. He exceeded at all weapons and was both fearless and determined. And he had a sorcerer to help him out though he didn't know it. That always helped.

Arthur handed off the horses to a stable hand while Ryll turned to Merlin. "Will you help me get this chainmail off?" she asked, nodding toward the armory. Merlin cocked his head to the side. Her eyes hinted that she wanted to speak to him.

"Of course."

"I'll see you later, Arthur," she told the prince. She led Merlin back to the armory, putting the lance back in a slot against the wall.

"You were good out there," Merlin told her. "Arthur seemed impressed." Ryll looked pleased though she tried to hide it.

"You think so?"

"I think he's impressed with you. I mean, in general." Ryll flushed.

"He might not be if he knew what I was planning," she replied.

"And what exactly are you planning?" Merlin asked.

"Help me get out of this heavy mail and I'll tell you," Ryll bargained.

"Deal." Merlin stepped forward, pulling the mail over Ryll's head, and feeling a bit flustered when his fingers brushed her sides. He dropped the mail on a bench, hoping Ryll didn't notice the heat that had risen to his cheeks. She seemed distracted though, seating herself next to where he had set the chainmail.

"I want to join the tournament," she said abruptly.

"So you weren't joking before?" Merlin asked.

"No, but I wasn't going to admit that to Arthur. He'd never let me enter."

"Then you're going to go against his will and enter anyway?" Merlin asked. This couldn't end well.

"Well, yes, but if he doesn't know, then it won't hurt him. I'm not going to parade around. I'll disguise myself. Dress like a man; keep my hood up. I might even chop off my hair if I need to."

"Don't do that," Merlin said hastily. Ryll looked up at him, surprised. "I mean, everyone would question why your hair was shorter after the tournament. It might be a giveaway," he rushed on to say.

"Good point. Merlin," she turned imploring eyes on him, and he knew that he'd do whatever she asked of him, "I need your help."

"Why do you need my help?" he asked.

"I need to come up with a disguise and some sort of identity that I can take on in order to enter into the tournament. Only noblemen are allowed to enter, so I must pretend I'm someone with a title." She looked up at Merlin, her blue eyes shining. "I need someone I can trust, and I already trust you more than anyone in Camelot." The compliment made him feel happier than he'd ever admit to her.

"What about Morgana?" he asked.

"We're close, but she's Uther's ward. I don't want to put her in a difficult situation."

"But I'm Arthur's servant. He's bound to know there's something going on. I'm not good at lying."

"Arthur's too busy with the tournament; he'll never notice anything," Ryll said.

"Alright, what can I do?" Merlin asked. "I still don't think this is a good idea though. What if you get hurt and your identity has to be revealed?"

"I won't get hurt because I'm going to win that tournament." Ryll spoke with absolute certainty.

"You can't know that. Besides, that means beating Arthur. Why do you want to enter so badly?"

Ryll looked down at her feet for a moment. "To prove I'm worth something," she said quietly after a moment. "To impress Arthur even if he never knows it was me."

Merlin studied her for a moment. "We need to get you some men's clothing, preferably nice quality. I could borrow some of Arthur's clothes. He'll never notice. We can get Gwen to adjust them so they fit you. We can trust her," he added when Ryll looked up at him. "She won't tell anyone."

"Alright. But don't get caught. What about a title?" she asked.

"I overheard Arthur telling Morgana that he doesn't know half the noblemen coming and that he hasn't heard of half of them but he has to act like he has. It would be easy to make up an Earl of someplace or another. I can make a coat of arms for you."

"Good. I have a sword and bow. I'll just borrow one of the horses from the stables. One that no one will notice is missing." She stood, grinning brightly. "This is going to work; I know it."

"It'd better because Arthur would be more than angry if he found out you were entering."

"Thank you for helping me. You don't have to, you know. I'd never forgive myself if I got you in trouble."

"I want to help. You deserve the chance to prove yourself. Even if it's only to yourself."

"Thank you," Ryll repeated, coming forward and hugging him. Merlin awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, surprised at the show of affection.

"Well, I'd better get on," he said after a second, pulling back.

"Yes, me too. I've got to sharpen my sword before tomorrow," Ryll said, backing away as if slightly flustered. "I'll meet you at Gwen's house in half an hour for a fitting, alright?"

"Sounds good."

Merlin watched as she walked away before heading back to the castle, hoping to head off Arthur and snag a few of his clothes before he returned to his room. He was in luck. The prince was still outside or somewhere else in the castle, so Merlin had the chance to rifle through his wardrobe, picking out a tunic Arthur rarely wore and a pare of breeches that were detailed with gold thread. He found a jacket that needed mending as well. He had just slung these over his arm when he heard the door open. He shut the wardrobe with a bang.

Arthur stepped into the room, eyes narrowing when he saw Merlin standing there. "What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes traveling from Merlin to the clothes.

"These need mending. And washing."

"Well never mind those; I never wear them."

"Well, then you won't mind if I get rid of them," Merlin said, inching toward the door.

"I said I never wear them, not that I won't ever wear them," Arthur corrected. "What I really need washed are the clothes that I will be wearing tomorrow. In fact, I believe you were going to wash them a few days ago, but they're still sitting there."

Merlin looked down at the laundry basket. "So they are."

"So maybe instead of washing old clothes, you can wash the clothes that I actually need," Arthur suggested.

"Good idea." Merlin thrust the clothes he was carrying into the basket and grabbed it, heading quickly toward the door. He made a hasty escape, taking the basket with him as he walked to Gwen's house.

"What's this?" Gwen asked when she answered the door. "Arthur's week old laundry?"

"Yes. Well, some of it. I was wondering if you might make a few alterations on some of these?" Merlin asked, pulling out the tunic, breeches, and jacket.

"For Arthur?" Gwen gave him a questioning look. "Or are you taking them for yourself?"

"No, actually…." Merlin didn't quite know how to breach the subject of Ryll and the tournament.

"No, for me," a voice said from the door.