3.
Ursula's voice was one of strained calm. "You really have no idea what you are doing, do you?"
Merilinn met Ursula's eyes in the mirror. She stood behind the princess, who was seated in front of her vanity, shining hair unbound, waiting for Merilinn to dress it.
Merilinn's hands hovered over the wealth of yellow hair, unwilling even to touch it lest she tangle it beyond repair. "Of course not. I'm from Ealdor. What, do you think my father gave me lessons in hairdressing?"
Ursula tipped her head back and closed her eyes. "This is a disaster."
Merilinn let her hands drop. "I quite agree. You should talk to your father. I could go back to my position with Gaia and everybody would be happy."
Ursula turned around to look at her directly, face creased in indignation. "I shall, though not because you tell me I should. What possible need have I for a maidservant as impudent and incompetent as you?"
"What need have I to serve a prig like you?" Merilinn shot back, stung.
Ursula's eyes widened, but her mouth was twitching into a smile of disbelief, almost, it seemed, in spite of itself. "No one talks to me like that," she said. "Perhaps I should throw you back into the stocks!"
"I'll survive," Merilinn replied, as haughtily as she could.
"Oh, get out," Ursula snapped. "I'll call one of the other maidservants to assist me."
"Fine," said Merilinn.
"Fine," said Ursula. "Leave. I shall have you replaced immediately. Tidy my chambers before you go."
It never happened. Something always got in the way. Almost every morning, Ursula resolved to have Merilinn kicked to the curb, even banished from Camelot altogether. But there were a thousand other things on the crown princess's mind; a tournament in which the odds-on favorite almost killed Morgan with magic; a terrible plague that killed in a day and disappeared as quickly as it came; Cenred's men perpetually menacing the border; her father's mood swings to navigate. Morgan, who used to be her ally in this last, suddenly seemed to be as moody as Uther. At the end of the day, Ursula found that she never had time to replace her prickly, audacious maidservant. At the end of the day, Ursula found she was almost looking forward to seeing her again the following morning, when she would invariably stumble in late. Almost. If only Merilinn wasn't so embarrassingly bad at-well-everything. Bad at everything except getting fired, that is.
...
This was where her mettle as future queen was tested, she thought, as she watched Merilinn die for her in Gaia's chambers.
"Father," she had said, resisting the urge to tear her hair out in frustration and anger, "she saved my life."
"And she will hardly be the first to die for you," he'd snapped, impatient. "Ursula, my girl, your womanly feelings do you credit. But if you are to rule, you must learn to put yourself above others. That is the way of kings-and queens. I shall not send Morgan out to risk his life for a mere servant."
Morgan held back, waited for Uther to exit the hall. "Ursula," he said, urgently, "I would go. I need you to believe I would go, if I could." There was sincerity in his gaze, his intense blue-black eyes.
"Lord Morgan!" Uther's voice snapped from outside the hall. "I have need of you!"
Morgan's mouth pressed into a thin line; it was an expression Ursula had grown used to seeing when her foster-brother was around Uther. It made her uneasy, but she had no time to dwell on it now.
"I shall go myself," Ursula said.
She had not known she would really go until she said it. Morgan met her eyes, and for a moment, a brief moment, they were siblings again, united against one of Uther's whims.
"Your maidservant," Morgan hesitated, as if afraid his words would be misconstrued, "your maidservant is a rare gift. I wonder if you know that."
"She's a bloody terrible servant," Ursula said, indulging in a moment's profanity.
"But a bloody good person," Morgan said.
"Lord Morgan!" Uther barked once again.
"Go," Ursula said. "You needn't worry. I know what to do. You have trained me well."
"Be careful," Morgan said, and was gone.
She went back to Gaia's chambers one last time, dressed in her armor. It was none so easy to put it on herself. Jens and Gaia were both there. "How is she?" Ursula asked.
"She grows worse," Gaia said tersely. "Her fever climbs. My lady, if you truly intend to go, you have four days. Maybe less."
Ursula looked at Merilinn. She appeared even smaller than she really was, shrunken and weak, silent and still, face drawn and gray but for two bright spots of fever high on both cheeks. This was the girl who barely managed to complete her daily tasks, who did not know even the basics of waiting on a highborn lady, the girl who had taken a goblet and drunk poison for her without one moment of hesitation.
This, she thought, as she looked at her dying maidservant, this was where her mettle as future queen was tested. If she could not reward such loyalty, then what was she?
Jens was looking at her; there was respect on his face. She barely knew him. He was Morgan's servant, so she knew of him, of course, but they had rarely spoken. Now she felt that his opinion mattered, and she was not sure why.
She nodded curtly to Gaia, who murmured, "be careful, my lady," and strode from the physician's chambers. Before she exited onto the courtyard, she placed her helmet over her head, rendering her indistinguishable from any other knight of the realm. No one would dare accost her as such. She rode from the city. She rode into danger for Merilinn, and she did not look back.
...
"My lady," the girl gasped in admiration, "you are as good as a knight."
"I am a knight," Ursula corrected.
She wasn't, of course, for she was a year short of twenty-one; and even when she came of age she was far from sure if her father would formally knight her. But this was what knights did, wasn't it? Saved damsels in distress? Protected the weak and innocent? It was an exhilarating feeling; no wonder the other knights were forever champing at the bit to ride out. And the girl was nice enough, big eyes looking at her in unadulterated hero-worship.
"Cor!" the girl said, "a lady knight! Fancy!"
Now wouldn't it be pleasant, Ursula thought idly, if sometimes-just sometimes, mind, the boys must have their fun too-the person needing saving was a handsome man. A gentleman in distress, if you will. She shook herself out of this reverie with a small sigh. She was here for a reason.
"I know these woods," the girl was saying. "I can help you."
She did not help her. The innocent peasant girl with the big eyes and the sad tale led her to a precipice and tried to kill her with magic. "Ursula of Camelot," the girl said, almost wistfully. "I'm really very disappointed, you know. I had hoped-ah, but no matter."
"For God's sake, stop nattering and kill me, if that's your aim!" Ursula snapped.
But the girl only laughed. Laughed and faded away, taking the light with her. It was dark. It was so dark. It was so very dark, and far away Merilinn was going to die.
She pressed against the cliff face, felt the splinter-thin ledge crumble away beneath her toes. Be honest with yourself, Ursula, she said to herself. You wanted a quest more than you wanted to help Merilinn. Wanted that glory. Wanted that exhilaration. And now, it seemed, she would have neither the glory nor Merilinn's life.
…
There was a strange swirl of sounds and light. She heard Gaia, reedy voice sharp, commanding. That voice means a patient is in trouble. She heard Jens, a low rumble of sound, close and comforting. For a moment, she thought she heard the princess. Ursula's voice sounded urgent and strained. Something was wrong. She should help. She needed to-
But then there was sudden raging fire; she cried out, cringed away from it, and it turned abruptly to ice, filling her veins, her limbs, her lungs. She gasped, twisted, tried to breathe-
All was dark.
The darkness pressed against her. The fire had burned itself out, destroying everything, leaving oblivion. The world was encased in ice, silent and black, and she was trapped, alone-
Not alone.
Someone else was there, someone else lost in the dark. Someone who should not be there. Someone she needed to help. Ursula.
Ursula.
"Do no evil," her father said. "Help those who need it."
"I'm trying," Merilinn protested, "but it's too dark!"
Ursula, follow me.
The darkness pressed against them; it did not want Merilinn's light. She pressed back and the darkness gave way.
Ursula, follow me home.
Ursula did not want to come. She wanted something before she left this cursed place, this place of death.
No! Leave it! Follow me!
Ursula would not leave it. She would have this-this thing, this unimportant flower-
Hurry!
…
Ursula climbed.
Tendrils of hair fell loose from their plaits; they stuck to the sweat on her face, on the back of her neck. Her arms trembled as she pulled herself up, up, always up, following the light, though she could not be sure whether she followed it to her death. When it brought her out into the blessed world, the clean sweet world under the moon and stars, she fell prone onto the ground, breathing hard.
Presently she drew herself up, staggering to her feet, feeling as weak and shaky as a newborn colt. The spider creatures had not followed her; it seemed they were creatures of the dark. She peered down into the hole in the earth, the rock wall she had just climbed in full armor. She looked at the bruised but intact bunch of flowers in her hand.
She had her glory.
And Merilinn would live.
…
Morgan's eyes were sharp and proud. "You did it. Ursula, you did it."
Ursula smiled a little uncertainly. She'd had a lot of time to think while she was being taught a lesson in the dungeons. "Yes, but-I'm not sure I really did."
Morgan raised his eyebrows. "I beg your pardon? Is your servant not alive because of what you did?"
"
Yes, but-" Ursula shook her head, confused. She could hardly tell Morgan-anyone, really-that she'd followed a benevolent ball of magical light out from certain doom and back into the world of the living. "I had help. Lots of it."
"Well, good," Morgan said. "It was a worthy quest. It deserved help. How are your arms, by the way?"
"I have hope that I may be able to lift them above my head again one day," Ursula said ruefully. Every muscle in her body was shouting their anger at the abuse she'd put them through. She'd ask Gaia for a tonic. No, she'd ask Merilinn to ask Gaia for a tonic. Servants had to do something, hadn't they?
…
Merilinn brushed the long, golden hair one hundred times from scalp to end, just like she did every morning before fetching Alma to finish dressing Ursula's hair. But this time, when she had drawn the brush through for the hundredth time, she did not leave. Instead, heart hammering, she placed the brush on the vanity table, took up three strands of hair near Ursula's temple, and commenced to plait.
Ursula jumped. "Merilinn, what on earth do you think you are doing?"
"I can do it," Merilinn said determinedly. "I've been practicing. Stop pulling!"
"Practicing!" Ursula said. "On what? Horse tails?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Merilinn said, "The grooms won't let me near the stables for some reason."
"Isn't that a mystery," Ursula deadpanned. "But you still haven't answered my question."
"One of Gaia's patients in the lower town," Merilinn said. "A little girl. Her hair is like yours."
"Whatever did you say to that poor child to make her entrust her hair to you?" Ursula asked.
"I wish you would stop peppering me with questions," Merilinn said. "I'm trying to concentrate. But if you must know, all I had to do was give her a sweet from the palace kitchen and ask if she'd like to look like the princess. She could not say yes fast enough."
"Oh," Ursula said.
You dishonor your position as heir to the throne to go out on some harebrained scheme to save a mere servant. How do you expect people to respect your position above them if you do not behave as if you are above them?
Her father had said that, and much more besides. I have allowed you to train with the knights, but now I've a mind to put a stop to it. Riding out alone, astride, in your armor! Have you any idea how people will talk?
Would you seriously have had me sit before the fire doing embroidery while the girl who drank poison for me died in agony? She'd said. The bars between her and her father emboldened her somehow, made her say things she never would have otherwise. Is that the action of a future queen?
Uther had been furious. A future queen does not embarrass herself in front of her subjects, Ursula, and you will stay here until you realize that!
She had watched him go, righteous and majestic, treading on the flower that would save a woman's life. Later, when she could think of such things, she remembered what he said. She compared his words to the look of respect on Jens's face, to the way the people in the lower town smiled now as they bowed or curtsyed to her, sometimes adding a "well met, Milady," as if they really meant it. Before, they had always looked away when they saw her approach, as if afraid.
How do you expect people to respect your position above them if you do not behave as if you are above them? Have you any idea how people will talk?
All I had to do was ask if she'd like to look like the princess.
Merilinn had plaited and bound her hair while Ursula was lost in thought. It had taken her longer than Alma and she'd used almost twice as many pins, some of which were sticking directly into Ursula's scalp. She looked at Merilinn in the mirror; the girl was nervously eyeing Ursula's hair and wringing her hands ever so slightly. Then Merilinn met her eyes and they looked at each other for a long moment, not mistress and servant, not royal and commoner. Could two people who had willingly risked their lives for each other really be anything less than friends?
Ursula tilted her head back and forth. "It will do," she said.
Merilinn stepped back and dropped into a curtsy. "My lady," she said. There was no hint of impudence in action or word.
The moment was over, but something had changed. Everything had changed.
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A/N: Thank you for the follows and faves! If you are enjoying this story-and even if you're not-I would so appreciate it if you'd drop me a quick review! Feedback means a lot, even if it's just "Pretty good" or "Too long, DNF." Thank you for reading!
