A/N: I, being the foolish mortal that I am, just put most of my blankets away a couple days ago and stowed my space heater thinking the warm weather was finally here to stay- thus I woke up freezing under my single quilt this morning. What was I thinking?!
This chapter: more 'peasant humor'.
Many thanks go out to Dawnfire11 who has been reviewing each chapter while catching up with this story (Thank you thank you- whenever you get to this chapter!)
The two men took up positions outside of Rasner's manor, the rain having thankfully let up shortly after lunch time.
Merlin made sure Arthur was directly in front of a convenient haystack.
"Ready?" Merlin asked, arms relaxed at his sides.
"I was born ready, Merlin."
The warlock rolled his eyes.
"Alright, most sorcerers will only have an advantage while they can make ranged attacks. They're used to winning fights with magic so they'll be physically weaker than conventional warriors."
The prince nodded, he was already well aware of these facts- and they were certainly true of Merlin.
"Your best bet is to rush them and hope you can get in an attack before they recite a spell. Go ahead and try."
The blond hesitated.
"I don't want to hurt you, Merlin..."
"You've never seemed to mind that before." The servant grinned at him "besides- you won't. Now come."
Slightly annoyed at the other man's cockiness, Arthur did just that- sprinting forward only to have his opponent throw up a hand and yell "Ástríce!"
The knight flew backward to land in the haystack, grumbling to himself while he crawled out.
"Too slow, Arthur."
He wasn't quite laughing at his future sovereign.
The royal just glared at him.
"Right. That's a very basic spell. A lot of the sorcerers here can probably do it without even speaking, though it will likely be weaker if they don't say it aloud. Come again and I'll show you."
A bit reluctant, the prince charged once more- trying to be faster.
This time Merlin's arm snapped up and the brief flash of his eyes was all the warning Arthur got before he sailed into the haystack once more.
He groaned.
"I fail to see how this is helping me, Merlin."
The servant chuckled.
"Well then, allow me to give you some pointers."
He had sauntered up to the stack and offered his hand, helping to pull his friend up and starting to pick the grassy strands out from between the chain mail links.
"First, sorcerers direct spells with their eyes and hands- if you can blind them or at least stay out of sight it will be in your favor. When a spell comes from the palm it usually travels in either a straight line or a cone shape. We'll practice and I'll give you advice until you can recognize and avoid the most common ones. Sound good?"
He asked, now finished with his automatic straightening of the prince's armor.
Arthur huffed.
"You understand that none of this will ever be mentioned again?"
"Of course, Sire."
The lessons had continued for a couple of hours, ultimately ending in Arthur dragging Merlin down into the completely destroyed haystack where they had wrestled until they both were too weak with laughter to move.
The swordsman had made great progress- once or twice managing to get close enough that the warlock had slowed time to escape (though he certainly wouldn't admit that bit to his master). That didn't mean he wasn't going to cover Arthur's mail in protective enchantments until they practically glowed with magic.
The prince had called a servant and requested two baths be drawn as they hauled themselves up and trudged back inside.
The servant had raised an eyebrow at their location and disheveled appearance, but made no comment.
No doubt the rumors about them would be spreading like wildfire before dinner even hit the table, though Merlin waited until they were both naked in their tubs (a privacy screen having been thoughtfully erected between the two basins) before pointing that out to Arthur.
He grinned at the choking noise coming from the prince's side and looked around the screen to see the man had gone Camelot red and sunk down so the water was all the way up to his eyes, bubbles rising from the water being the only sign of his disgruntled mutterings.
Dinner itself was a quick affair as both Merlin and Arthur were still rather short on appetite and no one was keen on sitting with Lady Rasner any longer than necessary; the woman was in a particularly foul mood since she hadn't had the games to entertain her for the day.
Fatigued from training and the accumulation of the previous days' events, the competitors had retired immediately after finishing their meals.
Few words were exchanged before they sank gratefully into their beds.
Both fell asleep quickly but Arthur was soon woken by a nightmare and had to get up to reassure himself that Merlin had, in fact, survived his poisoning.
Sensing eyes upon him, the warlock woke- Arthur pretended to be pacing.
"Can't sleep?"
"Just thinking- don't worry about it."
Rolling his eyes, (as if I can't tell when you're upset about something- clotpole) the servant lifted the edge of his blankets and patted his mattress, a coy smile playing on his lips.
"We can share if it'll make you feel better."
Arthur threw a pillow at him.
"Why, thank you Sire!"
The servant snuggled into the extra cushion.
"I'm going to need that back Merlin."
Obnoxious snoring was his only answer.