Strongest of the Warlocks: Chapter Three: The Dangers of Tournaments


Hunith could see it in the way Percival glanced at Merlin when she wasn't looking and how her daughter spared him similar looks in return. She understood completely, after all, Merlin had been birthed out of the union between her and the man she had once taken in.

But Percival was not Balinor and Merlin was not Hunith. Children born of magic were unheard of and Hunith knew that if the villagers of Ealdor were made aware of Merlin's unique gifts, she would be shunned for something she could not control.

But Percival was open-minded, one of the few, and a brief slip-up that could have destroyed Merlin was silenced and he uttered no word against her, for which Hunith was grateful.

And he was quiet, Hunith wasn't sure she had heard him speak out of Merlin's presence, and she was sure that if anyone deserved her daughter, he did.


Let it be known just how much Merlin despised her new occupation, which was a huge waste of her abilities, if you asked her. She knew how to brew herbal remedies and which herbs were best served for which injuries, and she couldn't stand having to wait on Arthur Pendragon who was incapable of dressing himself without a little trouble, used her as target practice whenever he felt like it, sent her to muck out the stocks when she annoyed him.

Gwen was finding it to be rather usual to see Merlin grumbling angrily as she passed her in the corridor, sometimes with a crossbow thrown of her back, looking quite large compared to her slight frame. Today, however, she was garbed in what appeared to be makeshift armor.

"Merlin," Gwen could hardly keep a laugh out of her voice as she and Morgana stopped the dark-haired girl in the hall. Morgana, it seemed, was having as difficult a time keeping her own smile off her face, "what exactly are you doing dressed like that?"

Merlin scowled bitterly as she looked down at herself distastefully. The armor was about a size too big and lumpy, clanging awkwardly as she walked. "Don't you start," she complained, "I just saw Leon and he wanted to know if I was planning on turning myself into an indestructible ball of metal the first time I trip down the stairs!"

Morgana raised a hand over her mouth to cover the giggles that threatened to burst from her lips, but Gwen didn't move fast enough and her laughter echoed loudly even as Merlin stabbed a finger offensively in her direction.

"Oh, shut up!" she complained, color blooming on her cheeks. "I am going to murder that prat, I swear it upon the stars!"

As she proclaimed this, she pointed an iron-clad arm to the heavens before stalking away rather loudly, ignoring the laughter that followed her.

Really, this was far too ridiculous, and it didn't help that she was starting to hate Arthur Pendragon with every fiber of her being. Sure, he was the son of the man that was the reason she had to hide her magic in fear of execution, but that had nothing to his arrogant, sexist, superior attitude.

Merlin could honestly say she had never met anyone like him before, and that wasn't even close to being a good thing. This prat could barely dress himself without help (and Merlin had already seen more of him than she ever wanted to see, thank you very much) and insulted her every chance that he could, and she already had devised seven ways to kill him without leaving a trace.

But for now, all Merlin could do was scowl sullenly at Arthur, readying her blade.

"I hate you," she told him vehemently, "with every fiber of my being, you complete and utter prat!"

"And you're still an idiot," Arthur retorted.

"Smart enough to be able to poison you without you knowing it," Merlin muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," Merlin replied in a sing-song voice that fooled no one, least of all him, but he did not comment on it. "Do I really have to wear all this? It's utterly ridiculous!"

"And incredibly funny for me," he called over to her, laughing at the sour expression on her face. "Ready?"

"Does it really matter?" Merlin replied behind her visor, her irritation apparent.

"Not really." Arthur had never treated Merlin as though she was a woman, and she wasn't sure quite how she felt about that. On one hand, she could walk around with her sword at her belt and wear male clothes without people throwing much of a fuss, but then only a very small number of people actually accepted her as a woman, her mother and Percival being at the top of the list.

"What's-the-point-of-stupid-tournaments-anyways?" Merlin demanded, blocking each strike that Arthur threw at her. Some were easy, other's tested her hand at the blade.

"To test a swordsman's skills," Arthur said, rolling his eyes towards the girl who was struggling to force his strikes back. "What else?"

"Oh, you know," Merlin said in what could have been a jaunty voice, "covertly slitting others' throats, what's not to like?"

He ignored her words, but this came as no surprise, Merlin had gotten used to him ignoring her, which was yet another reason as to why she insulted him so often; to see if he was paying attention.

Merlin grumbled something degrading under her breath only to give a short cry of surprise when Arthur's next strike sent her flying and knocked her to the ground, the ill-fitting helmet flying off her head and loosening her tightly woven plait as it did so.

Arthur smirked and Merlin responded with a glare that promised retribution, and she got it by sweeping her leg out and knocking Arthur's out from under him, causing him to fall to the ground in a clatter of metal.

Merlin laughed at the sound of his muffled swear.


When Gwen saw Merlin again, she was out of her ill-fitting armor and back in her usual attire with dark flyaway hair falling out of her braid and a smudge of dirt on her cheek with a basket of herbs in her arms.

"You look like you had a lovely time with Arthur," Gwen said, her grin wide as she laughed at her friend's expense.

Merlin's lips curled into a sneer. "That arrogant cock! I don't know how I've survived so long as his servant when he's got such a disregard for human life, especially mine, and cares even little about me, next time I'm going to shove his dagger right up his—"

Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise as Merlin described just where exactly she was going to shove his dagger, and it sounded vaguely painful. "I think he likes you."

Merlin balked, her mouth gaping as she looked at Gwen as if she had just told her the most appalling and disgusting thing in the world. "Likes me? What on earth are you going on about?"

"Usually he just sacks people who irritate him," Gwen said, shrugging as best as she could while holding a basket filled with Morgana's laundry. "From the way you're complaining, he should've sacked you days ago, but he hasn't, ergo, he likes you, or at least your banter."

"Thank you so much for those enlightening words," Merlin said in the driest voice she could imagine. "That makes me feel loads better."

"How's the tournament etiquette coming along?" Gwen asked instead and Merlin's shoulders slumped as she threw her head back and groaned.

"Horribly! It's been made apparent to me that I have no idea what each part of a suit of armor is or when it's put on or even how to put it on!" If Merlin could have released the basket, she would have clutched at her face in aggravation. "How on earth am I supposed to learn all this by tomorrow for the tournament?"

Gwen smiled in a patient manner. If there was one thing Gwen was good at, it was being patient. She was the tempered storm to Merlin's uncontrollable raging tides. Luckily, Merlin was getting a bit better at controlling her emotions, though Arthur was indeed trying on her last nerve; Merlin remembered a time when her magic was constantly effected by her mood, causing sudden floods from wells or fires in fireplaces to rise several feet into the air –another reason for Merlin's mother to send her away from Ealdor and its prying eyes.

"I can show you, if you like," Gwen offered, startling Merlin out of her reminiscing, "show you where the armor goes and how to put it on."

"Really?" It would have been almost comical how relieved Merlin looked if she hadn't been so completely serious, so Gwen stifled yet another laugh –as she seemed to be laughing a great deal now, probably since Merlin had arrived in Camelot, because Merlin made everything funny– and promised that if she brought the armor to her small cottage –and that was a modest term for her home– she'd show her where everything went.

"You could always ask Sir Leon as well," Gwen suggested as well with a thoughtful expression on her face. "He probably knows more about tournament etiquette than me, since he's performed in a few of them, and he won't be in this one because its limited to only one knight per realm, so he might be willing to share his knowledge…" Gwen blinked and stared at the empty space beside her and giggled; clearly Merlin had seen Leon as her salvation in surviving the next three days and had dashed off to find the knight in question.

"Sir Leon!" Merlin called his name out as she dashed down the hall after a head of ginger curls (she had returned to Gaius' chambers only for a short amount of time to hand over the herbs before darting out the door and into the corridor). "Wait—"

He stopped suddenly and Merlin ran straight into him, getting a face full of chain mail in the process and later Merlin would have likened the experience to running head-long into a wall…only a slightly softer wall.

Merlin stumbled backwards, falling onto her back as he turned around and Merlin wanted to hit the expertly faked expression of polite surprise on his face as she clutched her own.

"Merlin…what're you doing on the ground?" he asked her, his light eyes twinkling in the light.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Merlin grumbled behind her hand, her cheeks already pink with embarrassment.

He extended a hand to her, the gentlemanly thing to do, to be sure, and Merlin, very reluctantly, took it, allowing herself to be pulled into an upright position once more, finally removing her other hand from her face. "Are you alright?"

"Don't worry, I might regain feeling sometime in the next two weeks," she replied, rolling her eyes with more emphasis than was probably necessary.

Leon smiled. "Still having trouble with Prince Arthur, I see."

"I always have a problem with Arthur," Merlin said with a scowl. "I've lost feeling in my upper arm because of him!"

"A very serious concern," Leon replied with a serious nod.

Merlin stabbed a hand into his chest. "This is why I stay away from you knights, you never take me seriously! And I'm trying to ask you for a favor over here!"

"Alright," Leon said with a chuckle, "what's your favor?"

"Gwen said you fought in a lot of tournaments."

"Yes," Leon agreed, not quite knowing where the conversation was going.

"Well," Merlin sighed abysmally, "Arthur wants me to learn tournament etiquette by tomorrow, so I figured the best way to do that was to ask someone who's actually been in one."

Leon arched an eyebrow at her. "Wouldn't it be better just to read about it?" he inquired. Seeing Merlin with a book wasn't too strange, given how she was Gaius' apprentice as well as his niece and ward.

She gave him a flat stare.

"Alright…what do you want to know?"


If it wasn't clear, Merlin thought senseless violence was pointless, perhaps this was because she had bandaged up enough wounds to last a lifetime, and this was why she didn't much care for knights fighting in tournaments where they could very well die.

"Then you're still missing the point entirely," Arthur responded to her words heatedly.

"I really don't think I am," Merlin retorted, scowling as she pulled the vambrace over Arthur's lower arm with difficulty (really, it was his fault for having such bulky chain mail). "There!" She stood back to look at the armor she had so carefully strapped onto the young man, but her expression quickly soured at the look in Arthur's eye.

"The more impressed you are, the more idiotic I feel."

"Good!" Arthur snorted and Merlin spared him with a venomous glare, mocking him striking through the midriff with his sword before handing it over. "Nervous?"

He certainly looked nervous, at least, to Merlin, with his complexion slightly paler than usual and his darting around constantly as though looking for threats no one could see. Merlin knew the type; Percival was on edge days after he had fallen into her care, undoubtedly searching for the bandits who had tried to mug and kill him.

Arthur's eyes snapped to hers and he scowled at her. "I am a knight, knights don't get nervous."

Merlin rolled her eyes, raising her hands to attempt to fix a few loose strands back into her thick plait. "You say that like you're an entirely different species…humans do feel anxiety, you know."

He didn't deign her with a response, striding away from her as she muttered a few scathing remarks under her breath that earned her a call over his shoulder. "I can hear you, you know!"

"Good!" she replied with a vein of irritation running through her words. "I've been wondering if your hearing is up to par!"

She almost didn't hear it, but the short chuckle was there and she was almost surprised that he could make such a sound without sounding like a complete ass.

Merlin marched past the knights that were gathering in the arena, moving in two single file lines to spill out onto the grounds before the King, to rest slightly beside a stone post as Uther descended from his throne-of-sorts to speak to them.

"Knights of the realm," Uther began, his voice causing silence to rain down upon the stands filled with the men, women, and children of Camelot, "it's a great honor to welcome you to a tournament at Camelot. Over the next three days, you will come to put your bravery to the test, your skills as warriors—" Merlin couldn't help but snort quietly to herself at that; this was probably why women outlived the men in this village, because the man were so busy achieving their 'bravery', what a load of tripe (Merlin would have made a terrible knight if she were male and a noble, that much she knew without guessing). "—and, of course, to challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur. Only one can have the honor of being crowned champion, and he will receive a prize of one thousand gold pieces."

Uther waved a hand behind him towards the Court Treasurer who opened a chest that was filled with the large number of coins and a few exclamations of wonder filled the air.

"It is in combat that we learn a knight's true nature," Uther continued, "whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward." His pale eyes swept over the men standing before him, garbed in capes, armor, and tunics and Merlin had to repress a shiver. For all of her sarcastic remarks and disdain towards Arthur, if there was one person in Camelot she both feared and hated, it was Uther Pendragon, because he was the reason so many of her people, people who used magic, were slaughtered.

This man could gain no redemption in her eyes.

"The tournament begins!" As these words were said, an explosion of cheers resounded and Merlin sighed, expelling a loud breath.

"You don't have to watch, Merlin," a wizened voice commented and Merlin turned to meet Gaius' gaze. "I'm sure Arthur won't be offended if you don't."

Merlin snorted, turning back towards the arena. "That's not why I'm staying, he'll probably end up injured, or worse."

Gaius' lips curled upwards slightly, but she missed the expression to watch as Arthur ducked under a strike, but gained a slice to his shoulder for his efforts. Merlin winced. The chainmail probably protected him more than anything, so the most he probably had was a bruise, but Merlin doubted it would hinder him too much.

Arthur elbowed his opponent and his helmet flew off as he fell, and he did not get up, earning a win for Arthur. And if one thing could be said about Arthur, it was that he was by far the most chivalrous of his competitors.

A troubled frown marred Merlin's lips as she focused on undoing Arthur's hauberk from his chest, trying not to watch the stretcher that held the body of a knight's who's neck had been snapped by Knight Valiant, and she was further surprised when she set it down the table to see the man stopping near them.

There was something very off about him, something malicious behind his dark eyes that had Merlin's fingers dropping to the hilt of her blade, and it was not an action that he missed.

His eyes raked over her and she met them steadily, though she was disregarded, mostly because she was a woman –something that grated on her nerves immensely– but also probably because she appeared to lack any real physical strength.

"May I offer my congratulations on your victories today?" he said smoothly with an inclination of his head that was hardly a bow.

Arthur eyed him for a moment. "Likewise."

Merlin didn't relax until Knight Valiant was out of sight. Men like him were the reason her mother had her hide under her bed whenever Kind Cenred and his knights rode through Ealdor.


"You're being unusually quite tonight," Gaius remarked later that evening, looking up from his weighted tome and over his spectacles towards his ward who was scrubbing thoroughly at Arthur's helmet and had been muttering mutinously under her breath for a better part of an hour only to become abruptly silent, "…stain? The hell there's a stain! It's good as new, but nooo! If Arthur says there's a stain, there's a stain!"

"Well, that generally happens when Prince Prat gives you enough chores to make your arms fall off," Merlin said with spite before becoming a bit mournful, "I'm never going to be Court Physician at this rate!"

Gaius chuckled softly, turning his eyes back to the parchment and away from Merlin's pout. "I've got a few years out of me yet, you needn't worry, and your knowledge of the healing arts is most appreciated."

"Thanks," Merlin said in the driest voice she could manage, setting aside the helmet to pick up the sword and stone and begin sharpening the blade. "So glad someone appreciates my efforts." The jibe was not aimed towards him, Gaius knew, but Arthur.

"It will get better," Gaius promised, removing his spectacles as he looked upon her once more, "you just need to get used to—"

"Being a servant?" Merlin asked shortly with a light scoff to her voice. "Honestly, I probably had more rights as your unpaid apprentice…this is punishment for being a woman and saving the prince's life, mark my words."

"You're being melodramatic," Gaius said, his lips curling upwards slightly. "Better to be the servant of a royal than a noble."

"I'm not so sure," Merlin muttered under her breath, turning her attention back to the sword.

"I'm surprised that you haven't tried to spell everything to clean themselves," Gaius said, attempting to move the conversation a bit away from the direction it had been straying towards.

Merlin blinked twice in surprise, looking down at the metal in her arms and then looking up blankly towards Gaius. "Huh," she said finally, "I never actually thought about it…but that would speed things up, I suppose."

"You suppose?" Gaius repeated her words as though they were so very strange. "I would've thought you would come to that conclusion yourself."

"Ah," Merlin said in a faux-ancient voice and a smirk that made her eyes shimmer a lighter blue, "but you are speaking to someone who spent a great deal of time with druids." It was one of Iseldir's teachings that she had learned at a very young age to not rely heavily on magic, that was how some magic could corrupt others, and it wasn't a situation she needed to find herself in, he had told her.

She gathered up the armor and the sword in her arms with difficulty. "Well, I'm going to go and put this away and head to bed…gods above know I'm going to need it if I'm going to survive this tournament without ripping off Arthur's head." The last bit was muttered under her breath, but Gaius heard it quite easily.

And he watched as she struggled with difficulty to open the door, finally managing it, her face glowing in the half-light from his chuckles before she disappeared out of the door, clunking away down the corridor and into the armory.

The armory was more filled than usual, holding the shields, armor, and weapons of the visiting knights hoping to prove their worth against the might of Camelot (otherwise known as Prince Arthur). Merlin found Arthur's space with little difficulty, straightening the chainmail and armor over the table before laying the sword over the chainmail horizontally.

Merlin rubbed at her eyes, yawning tiredly for a moment and flexing her shoulders before freezing at the sound of something that sounded vaguely like the hissing of a snake. Immediately, Merlin's eyes fell to the ground and she knelt to check under the table for the serpent, but there was nothing there.

Merlin frowned in confusion as she stood once more, glancing around, hearing the sound once more, but still there was no snake in sight. She twisted around once more, her eyes falling on Knight Valiant's shield, which was the only one that held a coat of arms of snakes (one that Merlin doubted actually belonged to a Noble's House). Her eyes flashed gold briefly, allowing her a closer look, and then she had to take a step back as one of the painted snake eyes blinked.

Merlin exhaled suddenly and moved through the rack to make her exit when she found herself faced with the man himself.

He towered over her, but that might have been simply because he was a great deal larger than her, because his height was nowhere near that of Percival's.

"Can I help you, girl?" he asked, his voice scornful.

"I wasn't aware it was a crime to put away armor," Merlin replied with just a sliver of disdain as she moved to pass him, but he gripped her wrist tightly. Her eyes hardened into sapphires. "Release me," she said, her voice gaining a darker tone, "or I promise it will be the last thing you do."

Probably not a good idea of her, being a servant and all, threatening to kill a knight, but Merlin wasn't known for backing down from a fight.

"I am a knight," he sneered, "you will show me some respect."

"The bad thing about being a knight is you won't fight dirty," Merlin retorted, bringing her knee up to nail him in the groin and yanking her hand out of his loosened grip and racing away before he could even think to come after her.

Yes, Merlin definitely thought Valiant was up to no good.


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