Strongest of the Warlocks: Chapter Eighteen: Tristan du Bois
AN: Guys, we're seriously close to hitting 100 reviews! Wow, that's amazing! Some really good Mercival scenes are still a bit of a ways off, but Percival will be referenced more than a few times to keep your interests up, at least until he shows up.
Caedmon is actually an unnamed druid boy in the show, but I gave him a bit more importance in the grand scheme of the fic, to the person that was curious.
Compared to their village, Camelot was very large.
Byron and Edgar couldn't help but wonder why Percival's lover –Percival had tried to point out that technically speaking, they weren't even that (yet), but they opted to ignore him– would want to live in a town so steeped in regulation and order.
From what Percival had described, this unknown Merlin was a bit of a free spirit, so Camelot didn't seem like the kind of place someone like her would want to live.
In all honesty, Percival would probably rather have gone himself, but Edgar and Byron were the messenger boys, and Percival and their father were the workers.
It wasn't often that they had out of village requests, particularly since their forge in Mercia was rather small, and this request in particular had come from the mysterious Merlin herself.
The twins doubted that she even knew what Percival had made of her, but he had put an awful lot of effort into it, so she had to have been something special.
There was a thick throng of people in the streets, lingering around market stalls eyeing the produce and products there, but the twins continued through the people until they came out in the courtyard, looking around uneasily, but it wasn't as though there was a sign to indicate the location of court physician.
"Can I help you?" a voice mentioned and both boys looked up to the curly haired knight, considering them both cautiously.
"Um, we're looking for someone named Merlin?" Byron said, forming the name oddly, the phrase coming out as a question.
"The apprentice of the court physician, I assume," the knight said, now looking faintly amused, "it's not a very common name."
"Yeah, her," Edgar said when the knight's eyes darted over their heads to someone beyond them.
"Merlin, what happened?"
Both boys twisted their heads around so violently a crack was nearly audible.
The young woman stalking into the courtyard looked just as Percival had described, long dark hair bound in a tight plait and dark blue eyes. The masculine clothing was a surprise, though, and the sword at her hip, which looked nothing like Percival's work, and they knew that he'd crafted a sword for her, albeit with rather limited materials.
And there was bruise blooming on her cheek, mottled red and purple against her fair skin.
"It's nothing," the woman said giving a careless wave, "one of Gaius' clients got a bit fresh with me; trust me, his arm's going to hurt far longer."
Her eyes swept over the two boys standing beside the knight with interest.
"Byron," she presumed, pointing to the twin on the left before moving to the next, "and Edgar, right?"
"Friends of yours?" the knight inquired.
"Their brother is," Merlin laughed, "you'll have to ignore Sir Leon, he's not generally very helpful."
"Oi!" Sir Leon complained.
"I'm Merlin," she added, ignoring the outraged knight who decided it was a good moment to leave. "Percival said you were coming to Camelot."
"You're Merlin?" Byron asked her dubiously, looking her from head to foot as if trying to muddle something out in his head.
"Yes," Merlin said dryly, arching an eyebrow at his response.
"You're way too pretty for Percival," Edgar decided and she actually laughed.
"Well, as flattering as that is," she smirked, "I told your brother he didn't need to send anything…but he often does the opposite of what I say."
"Really?" Byron asked in surprise. Percival wasn't really the rebellious type.
"It's usually to aggravate me," Merlin said, bobbing her head slightly, making her long plait swish with the movement. "Or else he would've been out of my care much sooner."
Edgar's brow furrowed. "I thought it was because he was seriously wounded." He'd seen his older brother's scar and Percival had made no bones about the seriousness of his injuries.
"Oh, he was," Merlin said grimly, fixing the strap of her medicine bag on her shoulder correctly. "But your brother has a problem with staying still." She sounded rather like she still found that particular skill to be rather irksome.
Both twins scratched their cheeks, looking a bit sheepish. "It's probably a family trait," Byron admitted.
"It usually is," Merlin snorted before stiffening at the yell of: "Merlin!"
Edgar and Byron looked around in surprise as a surprisingly annoyed blond stormed into the stone courtyard, shaking a sword in Merlin's direction.
"As usual, your skill in knowing when to be civil proves to be nonexistent, Arthur Pendragon," she remarked rather coolly. "Can't you see I'm trying to have an honest conversation here?"
"Where're my clothes?" he demanded of her and Merlin glowered before turning back to the pair.
"Excuse me, but I need to sort out a tantrum before the prince explodes in on himself," she said, ignoring Arthur's squawk of outrage.
Edgar and Byron looked over the young man in surprise, because if that was the very same Prince Arthur whom Percival had said that Merlin worked as the maidservant to, but they couldn't help but think that he didn't seem very princely.
"You work for me!"
"I also happen to be the apprentice to the Court Physician," Merlin snapped to him, her eyes gleaming darkly, "an achievement that I do not take lightly."
The twins gathered that it was difficult to be taken seriously as a woman in a profession usually regarded as a man's, especially in Camelot.
Arthur's jaw tightened and a part of him had to appreciate that skill-set that his maidservant possessed.
"We should, er, probably get going," Edgar admitted, but he still pulled out a small wooden box from his bag and held it out to her. "This is for you."
"How is Percival?" she asked, smiling lightly as she took it from him, weighing its contents in her hand.
"He wanted to give it to you in person," Byron blurted, "but…"
Merlin turned a flattered pink. "Tell him I say hi and I'll try and see if I can come visit in a few months."
"It was nice to meet you," Edgar added before both boys rushed off into the crowd, probably not wanting to displease the crown prince by taking up too much of his maidservant's time.
Merlin opened the box to smile at what Percival had made her before making her way back to Arthur.
"So, what is it?" Arthur asked.
"That would be telling." Merlin tucked away the box with a rather noticeable smile on her lips and skip in her walk. Arthur suspected this was something about Merlin that he would never understand.
"Your clothes are in your room, Arthur," she added, rolling her eyes, "where they're supposed to be before the crowning ceremony…which is hours away, remember?"
Arthur's sulky expression only worsened with her laughter.
"Merlin is way too pretty for Percival," Edgar repeated when they were out of earshot.
"You can say that again," Byron snorted.
They didn't know how someone as pretty as Merlin could be so interested in someone like their brother, but they were probably always going to think that.
It was a pity, though, that Percival couldn't have given Merlin her gift in person, both would've probably liked that better.
"Race you back to the market," Edgar said, grinning suddenly and both raced off into the crowd.
The last time Merlin had been in the Hall of Ceremonies when it had been so decorated had been when the Kingdom of Mercia had been visiting and Merlin had ended up poisoned for her trouble. Needless to say, Merlin was still feeling cautious about festivities in the Hall of Ceremonies.
Merlin was standing off to the side with Gwen, both in the back as servants, respectively holding wine and a bowl of grapes, but still being able to see very well as Arthur knelt before Uther who held a scepter.
"Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of this kingdom and its dominions according to the statutes, customs, and laws laid down by your forebears?"
"I do, Sire," Arthur intoned without breaking eye contact with his father.
"Do you promise to exercise mercy and justice in your deeds and judgments?" Uther continued and honestly Merlin couldn't help but think about how hypocritical it was for him to ask such a thing of his only son when he didn't exercise them himself.
Her jaw tightened in aggravation.
"I do, Sire."
Uther moved the scepter so that it was horizontal in front of Arthur. "And do you swear allegiance to Camelot, now and for as long as you shall live?"
Arthur raised a hand to grip the scepter. "I, Arthur Pendragon," he said, sounding far more serious than Merlin had ever heard him previously, "do pledge life and limb to your service and to the protection of the kingdom and its peoples."
Merlin thought she might've seen a flicker of pride in Uther's face, but it was so difficult to tell as he moved to lift the prince's crown from the velvet pillow to place on Arthur's head.
"Now, being of age and heir apparent, from henceforth, you shall be Crown Prince of Camelot."
And with that said, applause erupted around them, and Merlin couldn't help but think that the whole thing was rather pointless; Arthur had always been the crown prince, all they were doing was making it legally binding, something that Merlin still thought was pointless.
"So how does it feel to be servant to the Crown Prince of Camelot?" Gwen was grinning beside her and Merlin rolled her eyes for good measure.
"No different than it did yesterday," she said with absolute certainty, more irritated with the fact that she'd been forced into a crimson dress for the occasion. It was ill-fitting and Merlin would much rather be in trousers and a tunic, and she had said as much before she was forced into it prior to the ceremony.
"You can't say that you're not proud of him," Gwen replied with a smile that lit her eyes. "I can see it on your face."
"Well, he is less of a prat than when we first met, so I suppose that's an improvement," Merlin wheedled and Gwen stifled her laugh.
In the next second, though, both found them as startled as the rest of the occupants of the hall by a large black horse with a knight in dark armor astride it burst through one of the stained glass windows, shattering fragments of glass down on the lords and ladies, making them scream and cover their heads.
When the hose and knight landed on the stone before the king and prince, the knights had already drawn their blades.
"What in the devil's name?" Merlin could barely hear Uther breath as the horse moved forward slowly before coming to a stop directly in front of Arthur. Merlin's eyes roved over the white phoenix crest across his black shield, but she didn't think she'd ever seen it before.
Then the knight ripped off his gauntlet and through it to the ground; an issued challenge of a duel.
Merlin took in a sharp breath as Arthur sheathed his sword, and bent to reach down to accept the gauntlet, but someone else got there first.
The knight was young with bright eyes and an easy smile. Merlin had seen him time to time when she went to visit Leon, or if she was replacing Arthur's armor in the armory.
"I, Sir Owain," the knight said, "accept your challenge."
It was obvious that the unknown black knight had been intending Arthur to accept the challenge, given how focused and intent he had been on Arthur, but he still turned his head slightly toward the younger knight.
"Single combat," he spoke for the first time, "noon tomorrow, till the death."
And with that proclamation, the horse was turned around and the knight made his way out of the oaken double doors.
Merlin's eyes flitted towards the young knight and she couldn't help but think that Owain didn't look nearly as up to the task.
That boded ill.
Merlin knew there was something off about the whole thing, because the crest the black knight had been wearing was as clear as day and yet Gaius claimed not to have seen it very clearly. She knew there was something Gaius wasn't telling her, but she and Gaius still weren't getting along as well they had been before, so she didn't ask or pry.
The black knight had stood in the stone courtyard all night, not even moving an inch, which Merlin thought was a marvel, because she at least would've had to run off into the woods for a tinkle.
She allowed herself to pause and stare at him, her arms holding Sir Owain's things, since she and Arthur were going to prepare him for the fight, her physically and him mentally.
Merlin wasn't expecting anything to come from staring at the black knight, but he suddenly turned his head, as if sensing her and Merlin forced herself to start walking again, this time acutely aware that she was being watched.
She didn't mention the incident when she arrived, setting Owain's things on the table and sliding the vambraces up over his forearms first after the chainmail was on, and then moving on to tying the cloak at his throat.
"You've never fought in mortal combat before," Arthur explained and Merlin glanced his way, certain that she was seeing a worried expression on his face. She wondered if he believed that Owain could defeat the unknown knight. "It's different. It's not like the training I've been giving you."
"Yeah, I know," Owain said, self-assured as Merlin finished the tie, only to blink in surprise when Arthur whipped him around to face him seriously.
"Listen to me," he insisted. "The problem is, we've never seen him fight. You have to quickly get the measure of him."
"But I have the same advantage," Owain pointed out, "he's never seen me fight."
Arthur appeared to struggle with himself briefly. "True."
"You've watched me."
"Yes."
"And?" Owain asked.
Arthur nearly sighed, resting a hand on Owain's shoulder. "And I know no one braver."
Merlin held out the knight's sword for him to take, and he did, giving her a small smile as he did so.
"Remember," Arthur added, "all it takes to kill a man is one well-aimed blow."
There was a polite knock at the door and Gwen entered, giving Owain a respectful curtsy. She was holding a red ribbon in her hand.
"The Lady Morgana asked me to give you this token," she said simply, and Merlin knew her well enough that she didn't like the odds of the challenge. "She wishes you to wear it for luck."
"You can thank her," Owain responded, taking the ribbon from her hand, "and tell her I shall wear it with pride. But I won't need luck."
Gwen nodded, her lips thinned into a line, eyes flitting briefly over to Merlin before she left. Arthur jerked his head towards Merlin, indicating that she should follow him out, when Owain spoke to her.
"What about you?" he asked.
Merlin started in surprise. "What about me?" she asked.
He arched an eyebrow. "No wish of luck?"
That made her arch an eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly. "I thought you didn't need luck, Sir Owain."
"Well, you'll be the one patching me up afterwards," he said.
Merlin could admire his certainty, so all she said was "Good luck."
But she didn't believe him; something about the black knight put her ill at ease.
The fight was stunning, mostly because Merlin had seen Owain stab the black knight with a fatal blow and he'd just walked it off after effectively ending the Camelot's knight. Merlin turned away when the sword was brought down.
"He should be dead," Merlin said to Gaius from where the stood side by side.
"Owain didn't land a blow," Gaius pointed out.
"He did," Merlin said, glancing over to where Owain's sword lay, unstained with blood, something that she didn't think was possible, seeing as it run through the black knight's flesh under his armor. "It was a fatal hit. He shouldn't even be walking."
"Are you sure?" Gaius asked, turning to look at his niece and ward. Merlin's face was serious.
"Very," she said. "He should be dead by now."
"Perhaps he already is," Gaius said and Merlin blinked.
"What?" she said blankly. She was familiar with the magic that it took to revive the dead, Necromancy was powerful and very dangerous and never went in the way you wanted it to. Iseldir had warned her against it so many times, and Merlin had seen someone try their hand at it once in the druid village; it had made her violently ill.
"Come with me," Gaius said as they left the arena after Sir Pellinor took the next challenge, despite how he was still suffering from his injuries at Othenden. Merlin knew he was, she'd only changed his bandages that morning.
Merlin followed him back to the castle with hardly a backwards glance, her brow furrowing as they went deep into the lowest parts of the castle, past the dungeons and the path that led down to where Kilgharrah was bound.
"Are we allowed to go into the burial vaults?" Merlin asked out loud in the lowest whisper she could manage, but her voice still echoed loudly in the silence.
"You're not scared are you?" Gaius sounded like he was smiling, but Merlin didn't dare look to over to him.
"Because it's exactly like I haven't seen dead bodies before," she replied dryly. She had seen a great deal of them during her time as a healer in Ealdor and in Camelot.
A door slammed in the direction they'd just come in and Merlin jumped, but, Gaius, as calm as ever, simply said: "Must've been a gust of wind."
It was almost too dark to see the steps in front of them, so Merlin grabbed one of the unlit torches on the side of the wall, removing it, one hand hovering before it as she said: "Leohtbora."
Her eyes gleamed golden and fire burst forth, blazing bright in the darkness.
"Hm, you're getting better at that," Gaius said grudgingly.
Merlin shrugged, but she offered nothing to that. If she wasn't living in Camelot, maybe she'd be further along in her studies, but she didn't voice that opinion, leading them down into the darkness before Gaius found the right burial vault.
Never before had Merlin seen tombs like the one she saw in the vault, they were all made of stone, in the likeness of whoever they had appeared to be in life, with hands pressed together as though praying. The only funerals Merlin had witnessed were those that had been pyres, with the ashes scattered once there was nothing left to burn.
"What exactly are we doing down here?" Merlin inquired.
But all Gaius did was gesture her to bring her torch over to where he was standing, and Merlin complied. The grave they were peering over had been broken into, or, more accurately, been broken out of, with no body within.
"Who is Tristan du Bois?" Merlin asked curiously, reading the name out clearly before looking up to see the shadows lining Gaius' face, making him look so very much older than he was.
Gaius didn't explain why the name had such an effect on him until they were within the physician's chamber, and Merlin thought that was for the benefit of them both as opposed to just her. The walls of Camelot had ears, something he was undoubtedly aware of.
"Tristan du Bois was the brother of Ygraine, Uther's wife," he said at long last and Merlin's eyebrows arched.
She hadn't been aware that Arthur's mother had had a brother. Arthur certainly never talked about his mother hardly at all or her family. Maybe there was a reason for that.
"Ygraine died in childbirth," Gaius continued and Merlin winced.
She'd helped with many births over the years, since she was old enough to be of sufficient help in the birthing process. Many mothers in the druid community had lived to see their children grow before their eyes despite suffering complications during childbirth because of Merlin's skill in the healing arts (both magical and none magical).
"He blamed Uther."
"Well, he was the one that got her pregnant," Merlin pointed out, only to stall at the look on Gaius' face, something that told her that that wasn't the whole story. Merlin opened her mouth to inquire further, but Gaius continued before she could.
"He blamed Uther and came to the gates of Camelot and challenged him."
"That's a bit drastic," Merlin said with a grimace. Of course, she'd never lost a sister before, so maybe if she'd had one she might've thought a bit different. "Was it single combat like Owain's duel?"
Gaius nodded. "Uther won," he said, pulling a book loose from a pile close to the window, bringing it to the table to flip through the pages, "but in his dying breath, Tristan cursed Camelot to one day suffer his return. I thought it was the ramblings of a dying man."
"I'm guessing you don't think that's the case now," Merlin said with an arched eyebrow, "besides, Necromancy needs a practitioner, he wouldn't be able to just wake up from death without someone giving him a helping hand."
"The caster remains a mystery," Gaius murmured as his fingers came to a stop on one page in particular, "but it's my guess we're dealing with a wraith."
"A wraith?" Merlin frowned, unfamiliar with the term as she came to stand beside him, reading over the page.
"The spirit of a dead man conjured from the grave," Gaius informed her as her fingers trailed over the words there.
"'Only powerful magic can harness the grief and rage of a tormented soul and make it live again'," Merlin read out loud, skimming the passage. "It doesn't say anything about how to kill it."
"That's because you can't."
Merlin balked at that. "What?" she said dubiously. "There's always a way to kill things like these." It might've been hard, but it had always been managed.
"You can only kill things that are actually alive," Gaius informed her sagely, "no mortal weapon can kill it."
"That can't be." Merlin frowned, re-reading the passage once again for an indication.
"Nothing can stop it until it has achieved what it came for. Revenge against Camelot, and against Uther."
"And Arthur," Merlin added, tugging at the end of her plait as she flicked it over her shoulder.
Pellinor wouldn't survive tomorrow as Tristan du Bois' opponent, and if Arthur picked up the gauntlet next, she didn't want to think what would happen.
AN: It's been a long time since I updated, but nursing school is brutal. Hopefully this chapter will hold you guys over until the next update.
As always: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!
