disclaimer; i do not own Merlin, or any of the characters in the show. i do not own the plots i may use from the show, or the dialogue i may quote. i only own what and who you do not recognize
Part the First
Chapter one; Conviction
There is a prophecy, foreseen by the Druids. It has been guarded by oath, sword, and magic. It speaks of a great future, of salvation from the Purge and all who rule with malice in their hearts and poison in their promises.
There is to be a great King, the Once and Future King, and he shall rule over this land of Myth. He shall usher in a time of magic, and bring balance and peace to the people. It is his Destiny, and it is this Destiny that he shall share with Magic itself.
This Destiny shall be shouldered by many, for many shall spell the creation of this new kingdom. It is in the work of the few that shall succeed for the needs of the multitudes. And it is this people that shall define their King.
There is to be the King himself, standing tall in his honor, for no other honor means quite the same thing. No other man's courage shall outshine his, for it is within his heart that he will bring about change.
As for Magic himself, he shall rule by the King's side. He will be the catalyst, the bringer of this new dawn. No other power shall match his, now or ever.
The Knights, loyal and true, the messengers and harbingers of the King and his might. They will stay by his side for eternity, bringing about his mission and his virtue.
As for Wisdom, her role is more subtle. To provide these with the tools they need to succeed, her lessons shall show them the path they must walk. Her words of silver, her magic, a dance of gold.
And their names shall be murmured amongst those who wait, forevermore.
000
The load of swords held by Merlin threatens to tumble from his grasp at any given moment.
Arthur stacked the swords high in his manservants arms, making sure they were just unstable enough to make Merlin nervous. He is quite certain Arthur did it on purpose. His shoulders and arms are screaming from exhaustion by the time he is allowed to set his load down, well, more like dropping his load. Arthur shakes his head at Merlin, who ignores the prince and rubs and shakes out his arms.
A handful of knights are already gathered on the training field. They warm up by swinging their own swords about or going through the motions slowly, their stances intent and focused. They are among the best, as today is tryouts.
Less and less the nobles try for knighthood, Merlin doesn't blame them. The death rate for the knights has been steadily increasing. Though the King is displeased, he cannot deny that knighthood has begun to mean "early death".
"Do you think anyone will show to try out?" Merlin asks Arthur. Arthur raises a brow and sighs.
"They better," is all he says. He pulls a blunted training sword from the pile Merlin deposited on the grass and heads into the field. He begins a light sparring match with Sir Leon.
The sun continues to steadily rise, and still no one comes. Merlin can see the impatience in Arthur's eyes, the way he thinks there should be a better use of his time. Arthur's impatience and agitation is infectious, even the knights are restless. Merlin just wishes someone would come, fight to prove themselves, and whether they gained the title of knighthood or not Arthur would end the day and Merlin could go take a nap.
At the thought, Merlin yawns. A chuckle startles him and he turns sharply to see Gaius standing beside him.
"How long is this going to go on?" Gaius mutters to Merlin, who shrugs.
"Till someone comes I suppose."
Gaius sighs. "Uther is going to be disappointed,"
"Probably,"
"And Arthur even more agitated considering the King is heading down to watch the training."
A bolt of panic has Merlin straightening up and glancing over his shoulder. "What?"
"That's why I came down," Gaius says. "To let Arthur know his father is coming to watch."
Arthur notices Gaius and holds up a hand, halting the training. He begins to approach but before he reaches Gaius, his Father, the King, crests the hill with his guards.
King Uther looks every bit the heartless king everyone pictures him to be. There is sadness lurking behind his eyes, Merlin sees it constantly. But there is malice in his shoulders, hatred in his bones. Fear has poisoned his heart, and it infects all he speaks to. The King is a moving public speaker, though not as good as Arthur in Merlin's opinion.
Today the King is smiling, though it falters when he sees no new faces. "Has there been no one to try out?"
Arthur shakes his head, his golden hair catching the sun. the King sighs.
"I was hoping for today to differ from all the others," he says. "Very well, carry on your training."
The King begins to turn away, when a small voice halts him in his footsteps.
"I'd like to try out,"
Standing at the edge of the training field is a young woman about Merlin's age, if he had to guess. Her skin is fair, her cheeks pink from the heat. Her golden brown hair is braided in a loop around her head, giving the appearance of a crown. Her clothes are men's clothes, but they are too big for her. The pants are baggy and held tight round her waist by a thick belt. The shirt she wears hangs loose on her shoulders. The split neck dips too low, revealing the top of a wrap around her chest. Her boots seem to be the only bit of her outfit that fits properly.
A couple of the knights laugh, and the woman's blush deepens. The King smirks.
"I have my papers, proving my Nobility," she holds them up. Leon, who hasn't made a sound since training halted, slowly moves forward to take the papers from her at Arthurs gesture.
"Arthur," Uther gestures for his son, who moves to stand beside the king.
"Her nobility checks out," Leon says. He steps back, still holding the papers. Uther squints.
"Let her try out," Uther says to Arthur, his voice though a whisper, still carries across the field. "But don't get her hopes up for too long. Let her down easy, but make sure she's embarrassed enough not to come back."
The woman's face darkens, evidently hearing the whole exchange. Her eyes catch Merlins, her gaze almost questioning. He tries to convey an apology through his own eyes. She drops his gaze and walks farther onto the training field.
Arthur, evidently not liking his fathers orders, walks back onto the field. "Alright," he pauses, waiting.
"Nadia," the woman offers her name. She smiles, her face seemingly lighting up as she does so.
"Nadia,'' Arthur continues awkwardly. "You can try out against me. Go get one of the training swords from my manservant there,"
Merlin picks one up to hand to her, and she takes it eagerly. She nods her thanks to Merlin and rushes back to the training field.
"I don't feel good about this," Gaius murmurs to Merlin, who nods his own agreement.
Arthur rotates his wrist, spinning his sword in a lazy circle. Nadia copies him, albeit a bit clumsier. A few of the knights wince. Leon looks sympathetic, Merlin did always like him better than the others.
Arthur gestures for Nadia to start, she nods and moves forward. She swings, Arthur easily blocks. Arthur shoots a glare towards his father, then strikes back. Nadia barely dodges, skirting around the swing to stand to the left of Arthur. Arthur turns easily, holding his sword ready. Nadia strikes again, Arthur blocks. Arthur swings, Nadia blocks then jumps back. There is something shining in her eyes, something Merlin cannot place.
Nadia feints in a rather obvious manner. Arthur easily blocks, keeping his sword pressed against hers. He moves forward, close enough to speak quietly to her. But Merlin is close enough to overhear, so is Gaius. He leans forward a bit to hear better, Gaius does not chide him.
"Look, you can't be a knight," Arthur says to her quietly. Nadia's eyebrows lower in confusion and maybe hurt. "I'll let you win, but that's all I can give you."
"Let me win?" Nadia asks. Arthur nods. Something shifts, Nadia smirks. "Charming,"
She shoves him back, harsher than Arthur is anticipating because he stumbles. Standing straight, Nadia rotates her sword. She tilts her head, then holds her sword at the ready. She is no longer shaking.
Arthur exhales and charges. Their swords clash, the sound resonating and wavering through the air. Nadia twists under him, going down to her knees and turning under his swing. Her momentum carries her to her feet and she swings, nearly striking Arthur in the shoulder. Arthur blocks, just barely. The block costs him, he has to jump back to regain his balance.
He strikes, swinging as fast as he can. Nadia blocks each strike, holding her sword in one hand, her other hand held out behind her. Then she grasps the hilt with both hands and swings, nearly knocking Arthur's sword from his hands.
The way they fight, one could think it is a choreographed dance. A rather violent dance, Merlin thinks. Arthur is a fearsome warrior, not even Lancelot had run him this hard in a try out. His golden hair sticks to his forehead, he is panting.
Nadia, she is panting too, but she hides it better. Strands of hair fight to be loose, swinging around her head as she turns and dodges and weaves. Her braid evidently not tight enough. She adjusts her grip, loosening her fingers, then swings again.
Arthur blocks just in time, her feint this time nearly flawless. Merlin is beginning to suspect the beginning of the fight was an act to catch Arthur off guard, if so, it worked spectacularly.
Arthur begins another series of strikes, which Nadia meets with equal strikes of her own. She holds the sword on one hand and rotates it, the hilt spinning in her fingers. Holding the sword in a reverse grip, she twists the blade over Arthurs and catches his sword's crossguard with her own. She rips her sword out of his hand and kicks his leg, knocking him to his knees.
She tosses her sword to her right hand holding it upright again. She holds it out, the tip catching Arthur under the chin. The knights all unsheath their swords, standing at the ready. Merlin feels his pulse race, what was once mild concern for his prince's pride now turns into stress for his life.
Nadia surveys the knights before her eyes fall on Uther, whose eyes have gone wide. The King tries to disguise his shock, but he hides it poorly. Nadia removes the tip of the sword from Arthurs neck. She walks a few steps forward to stand a few paces from the King, and tosses the training sword at his feet.
"Thank you for your consideration," she enunciates the last word, the venom in her tone clear.
Nadia turns and walks away. She pauses before Leon to snatch back her papers, before leaving the training grounds behind.
000
To Merlin, when the council convened and the floor was open for the common folk to air their grievances, was either the most interesting time or the most boring. Today, it is boring, and Merlin can tell he is not alone in thinking this.
On his throne, Arthur looks as bored as Merlin feels. They are in the smaller throne room, meant for small gatherings and meetings. As such, the thrones are not on a dias like they are in the main throne room.
Even the King looks mildly bored as the man before him describes how his neighbor stole his prized chicken.
Arthur places a hand in front of his mouth in a poor attempt to hide a yawn. The villager who is complaining about the chicken theft falters but does not stop. Merlin wishes he could use magic to hurry the poor man along. He also wishes that Gaius needed him for something. It's a shame Arthur outranks Gaius in the need for Merlin to do mindless chores.
Merlin's gaze shifts to Morgana, Uther's ward. Her black waves cascade around her shoulders onto the green dress that she wears, her eyes focusing on a far away point. Her hands fidget in her lap, though she tries to hold them still. A week ago she had been happy, ready to start a new life among the druids. Now, because of Uther, she sits in silence and fear.
Behind her stands her maid, Guinevere. Though a maid, Gwen always looks more beautiful than any of the ladies that come to court. She is far kinder as well, a fact Merlin knows has not gone unnoticed by Arthur. Merlin has begun to notice the two of them dancing circles around each other, either finding every opportunity to avoid one another's presence or finding every chance to speak and exchange hushed words. Merlin doesn't know what has shifted, but he hopes both of them stop avoiding each other and admit that they share feelings for the other. The waiting game bothers him, Merlin has never been very patient.
The man with the chicken troubles has finally finished speaking, when he leaves Merlin swears everyone in the room sighs in relief.
"Who is next?" Uther asks the guards. The king pinches the bridge of his nose, as if preparing for yet another trivial case.
The guards don't have time to open the door, for Nadia pushes the double doors open on her own and strides into the room. A week ago on the training field she had appeared small, meek, hopeful. Now her steps are even, and nothing about her is meek or small. She wears a gown of pink silks, the bodice is embroidered with silver thread. Instead of boots she wears light brown slippers. Her hair is braided down her back, and a sword hangs from a belt at her hips.
"Nadia?" Uther sits up straight, confusion floods his gaze. Morgana stirs from her daydream, her eyes focusing on the figure in the center of the room.
"I would like to be a knight," Nadia's voice is even, crisp, and clear. She over enunciates her words, like she was caught mumbling too much as a child and in turn overcompensated.
"Why should I let you?" Uthurs voice, in turn, is harsh. Strict. He is a man used to getting his way.
"Because you are low of them," she says. "And I fight better than the ones you've got."
Uther laughs at that. "Do you?"
Nadia's gaze levels with Uther's. "Yes,"
"Your request is denied," Uther says. "Get out,"
Nadia curtsies, barely dipping her chin, then leaves.
And on the next day, and the next; on and on it continues like this. Nadia, appearing before the council and the king, her hands held open in greeting, their fists closed in denial. Till a month has passed, and not a single day does she fail to appear. Once in the evening, when alone in the prince's rooms, Arthur tells Merlin of his own frustrations regarding the manner.
"She fights in a way I've never seen before," Arthur grumbles to Merlin, who is organizing Arthur's wardrobe yet again. "In all honesty, I think I could serve beside her, maybe. But father will never allow it, I don't understand why she continues to humiliate herself in front of him."
Merlin nods along to all of this, keeping his views to himself for a change.
The next day, Merlin waits in the halls, intent on intercepting Nadia before she reaches the council chamber. He feels slightly nervous, perhaps the knowledge that she could crumple him up easily is not helping his nerves.
And she comes. Nadia appears at the end of the hall like a vision in a dress of blue, the sword still hangs at her hip. She pauses when she sees Merlin, a small smile plays on her lips.
"Merlin, yes?" she asks. Merlin nods. "Were you waiting for me?"
"Don't go in there," Merlin says, skipping just about the entire speech he had planned.
Nadia frowns. "Are they waiting with their swords drawn?"
"No," Merlin mutters. "But he wont say yes, and Arthur doesn't like watching you embarrass yourself over and again."
Nadia laughs. "I hardly call this embarrassing, redundant maybe. There are far more humiliating things to be doing instead of appealing to my king."
"But its all for nothing,"
Nadia shakes her head, a smile still graces her lips. "But it isn't. I've proven for a month now that I can be a nuisance, and that I will continue to be until I get what I want."
"But why a knight?"
"Because I have nowhere else to go." the smile is gone now, a ghost in the wind. "And I'd rather work here than the brothel."
"Brothel?"
Nadia snorts at that. "You don't get out much, do you?"
"Between doing Arthurs chores and running around for Gaius, no not really."
Something like sadness crosses into Nadia's eyes. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I don't have much left, and I need somewhere to be."
She touches Merlin's shoulder briefly, then turns and continues down the hall and into the council room. The soft tap of her footsteps leaves Merlin alone, and at a loss. Because at his core, Merlin understands. He understands needing a place to go. He understands having to leave home behind to go someplace else, to be with someone else who can help him. Would he have chosen Camelot? Not particularly. A place where he is consistently living in fear because of his gifts, the gifts he cannot help but have. But he cannot leave, can he? He has a destiny to fulfill, a prince to make King.
So Merlin sighs and goes to the council room, where Nadia is rejected yet again. She leaves with a smile on her face, and grace in her stride. Perhaps one day things can change.
Then the Lady Morgana and Gwen are taken, and change comes faster than Merlin thought possible.
authorsnote; i will try and update as often as possible, but the novel i am working on takes precedence lol. anyways i hope you enjoy, leave your thoughts if you wish