Chapter Two

The Dragon's Call
(Part Two)

–

Jealousy and love are sisters.

–

"Merlin..." the voice called again. "Merlin..."

He had been abruptly awoken from his slumber by the haunting voice again. This time, Merlin knew it was not a dream. He heard it clear as day, coming eerily from below the dungeons of which he was currently trapped within. He knelt on his hands and knees, placing one of his adorably oversized ears against the cool stone. The eerie voice did not repeat its call.

"Merlin!" a second source called, much more violent than the first. It was Gaius, looking rather perturbed. Merlin forgot about the voice and grinned hopefully at the old man. Maybe he wouldn't die a slow, painful death beneath the castle after all.

"Hi Gaius," he smirked.

"You never cease to amaze me," Gaius threatened. "The one thing someone like you should be doing is keeping your head down, and what do you do? You behave like an idiot."

"Sorry," Merlin muttered shyly.

"You're lucky you've managed to be released," said Gaius.

"Oh, thank you!" Merlin cheered. "I won't forget this–"

"It isn't me you should be thanking," said Gaius. "It was the Lady Morgana you are indebted to."

"The Lady Morgana?" said Merlin with an upward inflection. "What? Why would she help me?"

"That is a question one would have to ask her," said Gaius. "But she's a kindhearted young woman, and I wager she wouldn't stand by and let you be imprisoned for something so idiotic."

"Oh," said Merlin, nodding.

"There is still a price to pay, however," said Gaius.

"A price?"

–

The twentieth tomato struck Merlin's cheek with a swift sting across his skin. He flinched, closing his eyes tightly as a handful of lettuce hit him square in the nose. A morning in the stocks was not exactly how Merlin wanted to start his third official day in Camelot, though he had to admit it was better than wasting away in a cold cell. Thankfully, he had a topic to occupy his mind to distract him from the never ending stream of rotten vegetables being thrown at his head. He stood, slouched rather, and thought of why the Lady Morgana would have stuck her own hypothetical neck out for him.

She barely knew him, yet she was the one who saved him from the dungeons. It would have been easy for her to just forget about the incident in the courtyard between himself and the barbaric prince of whom Merlin loathed with his entirety at the moment, but she didn't. He made a mental note to personally thank the king's ward, giving him an excuse to see her again. Merlin blinked a couple times to clear his head as another young woman approached him. Her clothing was plain, leading him to believe she was a servant, but she was still rather pretty. The woman of darker complexion came to a halt beside him, smiling kindly down at him as Merlin spit out a mouthful of tomato.

"I'm Guinevere, but most people call me 'Gwen,'" said the young woman, smiling shyly. "I'm the Lady Morgana's maid."

He smiled internally at the odd coincidence.

"I'm Merlin," he grinned, extending his hand as far as he possibly could through the wooden restraint. "Most people call me 'Idiot'."

"No, I saw what you did," she objected feebly. "You were so brave."

"It was stupid."

"Well, I'm glad you walked away," said Gwen lightheartedly. "You weren't going to beat Arthur."

"I could have beaten him," said Merlin.

"You think?" Gwen smirked in a condescending sort of way. "I've seen Arthur beaten on very few occasions over the years, most of which were by my Lady."

"Really?"

"She's much more competent with a sword than she's given credit for," said Gwen. "You on the other hand..."

"Thanks," Merlin scoffed.

"No, I'm sure you're much stronger than you look," she stammered awkwardly. "It's just that Arthur is much more of those rough-tough, save the world type of men and..."

"What?"

"Well, you don't look like that," said Gwen gently.

Merlin beckoned her nearer so he could whisper to the pretty young maid.

"I'm in disguise," he jested.

"Oh," Guinevere laughed, a bit too hard. "Well, Arthur is a bully, and everyone thought you were a real hero especially my Lady, that is why she struck an accord to have you released."

"What sort of accord?" asked Merlin anxiously.

"She was set on boycotting the feast this evening. She objected to the reason for the celebration, you understand," said Guinevere, Merlin nodded. "Uther agreed to set you free if she abandoned her prior grievances and attend the festivities."

"She did that for me?" he asked hoarsely, earning a curious glare from Guinevere before he cleared his throat to cover his sudden tone shift. "I mean, why would she do such a thing?"

"Anything to stick a thorn in Arthur's side, I suppose," Gwen shrugged, "though that is quite a lot for her to give up just to bother Arthur, so I really don't know. Maybe it was just from the goodness of her heart–"

"I'm sorry, Guinevere, but I think my fan club has returned," he said swiftly, warning the young maid of the fresh bucket of veggies that appeared before a group of children with exuberant looks on their faces. She smiled in an amused sort of way and darted out of the way, sending him a longing glance before hurrying back to the castle.

–

Morgana lifted a golden scarf up off the wooden display, examining it by running the delicate fabric through her fingers. If she was going to be forced to attend the feast then she might as well look nice, so she was on a mission to find some fabric to spice up her new maroon dress. She always loved shopping in late afternoon, mingling amongst the townspeople though her beautiful gowns prevented her from fitting in completely. Uther never approved of her sneaking off into town without an escort but after the hundredth time she'd done it he sort of turned the other cheek... most of the time. Morgana smiled at the elderly woman selling the cloth and nodded to her, signaling that she would purchase the fabric. The woman sent a her a toothless grin in return and accepted Morgana's shillings as payment. She folded the cloth carefully and turned about to return her new purchase to the castle.

However, Morgana was hit with an abrupt jolt, knocking her silk scarf onto the muddy earth. She had walked right into someone, a man. He instinctively grasped onto her elbows to hold her steady. Morgana gripped his forearms for balance, looking upwards into the fierce blue eyes that seemed to call to her and recognized the face hovering over her.

"Merlin?" she said with an upward inflection as if he had just walked in on her in the nude or something.

"My Lady?" he said in a voice so far from suave, so far from debonair that if he was onlooker that he would have thrown a tomato at himself. His voice actually cracked like prepubescent boy. He was mortified, his face the color of the bright red fruit that had struck him just hours earlier in the day. "Excuse me! I'm terribly sorry, not looking where I was going and–"

"No worries, Merlin, I wasn't looking either," she smiled, releasing the young warlock and composing herself. Merlin's skin stung as if an invisible outline of the king's ward's palm was seared in his forearm. He hoped it would never fade. "I'm happy to see you, actually. I was beginning to wonder whether or not the King would keep his word."

"Yes, he did," said Merlin fervently. "I'm happy to see you as well. I was hoping to be able to thank you for your sacrifice to have me freed. Your maid, Guinevere, told me what you did."

"Think nothing of it," she smirked. "What kind of Lady of the Court would I be if I sat idly by as an innocent man was imprisoned because of a pompous ass... er– pardon my manners."

Merlin laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and looking at his shoes. There he saw the beautiful silk fabric on the muddy earth. A pang of guilt overtook him as he knelt down and snatched the cloth back off the ground. He tried to dust it off but only made things worse by rubbing the mud deeper into the silk.

"I'm so sorry," he frowned, meaningfully. "I didn't mean– well, I mean that–"

"Merlin, it's alright," she laughed lightly, holding half of the fabric in her hand while Merlin held the other half. "It was my fault anyway. I was just looking for something I could use to dress up my new gown. I can find something else."

"Please, let me wash it for you," he insisted, trying to pry the scarf from her hand.

"Honestly, it's fine," she smiled, refusing to release the cloth. "I'll just replace it. It's impossible to get out a stain on such delicate fabric anyhow."

"I insist," he said, smiling in an adorable way.

Not far down the dirt path lined with venders, Arthur and his men approached. They were laughing loudly about some servant they had tricked into eating dung not long before as they searched the market for a snack. When Arthur saw Morgana and the young man he had imprisoned the day prior standing entirely too close and smiling at one another he found himself instantly losing his appetite. Sir Pellinor elbowed Arthur's side and knelt his head forward towards the couple that Arthur had spotted long before. He nodded in reply, smiling as if it amused him and led his friends towards the two innocent bystanders.

"How's your knee walking coming along?" asked Arthur, approaching from behind Merlin.

Merlin slipped the fabric from Morgana's grasp and quickly slid it into his jacket pocket. Morgana did not look pleased that Arthur had so rudely intruded, though he did look exceptionally handsome that afternoon, but she'd never admit it aloud. Merlin recognized the rogue voice at once as the young prince. He frowned, closing his eyes tight to persuade himself that violence was not the answer. He was always dreadful at persuasion, he'd come to find out.

"I seem to prefer foot walking," he snapped, pivoting about quickly. "I've pretty much mastered the craft, but perhaps you could give a me a demonstration."

"Ah, thank god," said Arthur in faux shock. "I was beginning to think you were deaf as well as dumb."

"Arthur, I think I hear your father calling," said Morgana. "Go on, you're late for your daily bum kissing. He'll be waiting."

"Ah, Morgana, shouldn't you be up brushing your hair or something monotonous?" Arthur seethed. "This is between me and this dolt, here."

"He has a name," she sneered.

"I know," said Arthur indignantly, "'Dolt.'"

Morgana released a loud, exasperated huff and crossed her arms as she rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I told you that you were an ass," said Merlin, slyly. "I just didn't know you were a royal one."

Arthur looked back at his men with a Can-You-Believe-This-Bloke sort of look. Morgana smiled proudly from behind Merlin, her eyes frozen on the flaxen-haired prince.

"Oh, what are you going to do?" said Merlin, egging him on. "Got daddy's men to protect you?"

"Ha! I can take you apart with one blow," said Arthur confidently.

"I could take you apart with much less than that," said Merlin, smiling arrogantly.

"You sure?" said Arthur in a condescending tone.

That was it, Merlin had had enough. Her hurriedly yanked off his jacket, and Morgana extended her hands (much to Arthur's displeasure) to hold it for him. Arthur laughed hardily at the young man, as did his knights behind him. The handsome prince tossed a heavy spiked club flail at Merlin, who clumsily dropped it and had to retrieve. Arthur swung his own flail over his head, teasing the warlock.

"Come on then," said Arthur mockingly. "I've been trained to kill since birth."

"Wow, but how long have you been training to be a prat?" asked Merlin.

"Since conception," said Morgana viciously, unamused.

"Don't egg him on, Morgana," said Arthur with no humor in his tone. "He can't address me like that."

"Sorry," said Merlin sarcastically. "How long have you been training to be a prat, my Lord?"

Before Morgana could laugh at his witty remark, Arthur swung his flail at Merlin's head with incredible force. If Merlin wouldn't have ducked then he would have surely been killed.

"Arthur!" Morgana screamed in extreme protest, no joking this time.

"Stay back, Morgana," said Arthur as he passed her, chasing after Merlin.

She didn't pay him any mind, not like she ever did. Morgana darted after Merlin, Arthur and his men cheering him on with complete disapproval plastered across her face. Merlin tried to swing the weapon he was unaccustomed to over his head but ended up getting it caught in a hanging basket. He was forced to abandon his weapon and hurry backwards into a small nook of fruit venders. Arthur swung his flail, missing several times and striking bowls of fruit instead.

Morgana, in moderate desperation, slid Sir Leon's sword from its holster when he was distracted with the brawl and charged after the two dueling buffoons. Merlin fell onto his backside and secretly used magic to cause the chain of Arthur's weapon to become tangled with a couple dangling meat hooks. Arthur fought to release the flail and succeeded with little effort. Merlin backed up cautiously, keeping his eyes directly on Arthur. Suddenly, several bags of wheat caused him to topple onto his back again, rendering him helpless. Merlin looked about frantically, was this dollop head really going to kill him?

"Rule #1 of battle, Merlin," he jeered, "never take your eye off your opponent."

Merlin was just about to enchant a nearby rope to straighten and trip the prince, but before he could react, Arthur was lying face first beside him atop the bags of wheat. Morgana had kicked Arthur swiftly in his behind, causing his flail to fall from his usually capable hands. He fell forward next to Merlin and slowly rolled over onto his back, rubbing his forehead, not knowing what hit him. Morgana looked down at him, the tip of Sir Leon's sword just inches from his nose, smiling victoriously.

"Rule #2 of battle, Arthur," she teased, "never lose sight of your surroundings, for an enemy may just take advantage of you from behind. I would have figured you'd know that by now, after all the times I've beaten you."

Arthur couldn't help but smile up at the young beauty hovering over him. She puffed a long strand of hair out of her face in the way that drove him mad. He chuckled lightly, looking around at the bystanders.

"I yield most respectfully to the Lady Morgana," he grinned cheekily as Morgana lowered her weapon wearily.

The crowd behind them cheered and laughed at what had abruptly become a lighthearted spat. Morgana leaned over and extended her hand. Arthur smiled flirtatiously for a moment before he realized she had offered her help to Merlin rather than to him, leaving him lying on his backside. Merlin accepted her hand and rose to his feet. Arthur quickly took to his feet as well to save what was left of his dignity. The guards approached the young warlock, grabbing him by either arm, but Arthur held up his hand in protest. He knew Morgana would never forgive him if he sent the boy to the dungeons once again.

"No," he said, out of breath. "He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one."

"Er– thanks," said Merlin.

"There's something about you, Merlin, I just can't put my finger on it," said the prince, pointing his index finger at the boy.

–

"The sheer audacity!" Uther Pendragon bellowed. "You two have made fools of yourselves in public before, but partaking in a brawl and destroying private property? What were you thinking?"

Arthur and Morgana sat side-by-side in matching wooden chairs in Arthur's chambers before of the infuriated king. Their backs were slouched, looking down at the floor. They hadn't been in such a demeaning position since they were fourteen. They'd snuck out of the castle after dark to go swimming in the royal pond and had been almost killed when one of the king's archers thought them to be trespassers. Uther may have appeared more angry now seeing as their moronic display was in public this time with many witnesses.

"It was that Merlin fellow again, Father," Arthur insisted. "You remember, the boy Morgana insisted on freeing onto our unsuspecting subjects? He was behind it all."

"Oh, hardly!" she objected, jerking her head to look deviously onto Arthur. "You know as well as I that you started the whole thing!"

"He did to instigate it all," said Arthur.

"–did not–"

"–did to–"

"–did not–"

"–did to–"

"–did not–"

"–did to infinity–"

"You can't do that!" Morgana objected.

"–can to–"

"–can not–"

"–can to–"

"–can not–"

"I don't care who started it!" Uther shouted, causing both of them to swallow their tongues and slouch back in their seats. "What I do care about is the fact that the two of you represent the kingdom, and you go out and act like a pair of right idiots. What kind of example are you setting?"

"Well, I think I set a pretty decent example," said Morgana, crossing her arms righteously. "I showed little girls everywhere that they have all the power in the world to take down a man, especially a bully of one."

"Like I told you a dozen times now, you blindsided me," said Arthur indignantly. "It was completely unfair, and I wasn't even trying anyhow–"

"Bullocks, you–"

"Enough!" Uther bellowed, striding towards the door and opening it. "I've-have-heard-enough! I don't want to hear that either of you so much as step a toe out of line from now on. You best behave yourselves at the feast. I won't have you embarrassing me in front of anyone again."

"Not to worry, Father," said Arthur in a very brown nosing sort of voice, rising to his feet to bow respectfully to his father. "I'll make sure Morgana behaves from now on."

Uther was indifferent to his son's sentiment, choosing to barge out the door and slam it behind him in reply. Arthur didn't have the chance to turn around. Morgana had charged him and leapt onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck as she tried to tackle him to the ground, and with any luck, pummel him. He unsteadily swung around, trying with all his might to pry her from his neck. Finally, he opted to falling backwards onto his bed which meant landing atop Morgana. He made sure he didn't let all his weight fall onto her. She released him against her will before he jolted up and climbed on top of her, straddling her and firmly pinning her wrists atop the bed. She tried to free herself, but Arthur was too strong and in a favorable position. He smiled victoriously down at the young beauty as she gritted her teeth in return.

"Rule #3 of battle," said Arthur condescendingly, "never allow yourself to be overpowered by your opponent."

Morgana smiled seductively, leading Arthur to lean in closer. She parted her lips, tilting her head back slightly. Arthur crawled closer even, allowing Morgana to feel his warm breath against her pale skin before he kissed her longingly. He then drug his lower lip along her jawline, placing gentle kisses against her cheek. This was not the first time Arthur and Morgana had been in such a situation with one another. They were accustomed to whatever twisted relationship they had, and they took advantage of its rare benefits on occasion, well maybe more than just on an occasion. Arthur's lips began creating a path down Morgana's collar bone towards her chest. Her breaths were becoming raspy, her chest rising and falling with great haste now.

"Rule 4," she whispered hoarsely.

"What?" he breathed, pausing amidst his kisses.

Morgana abruptly lifted her knee upwards in a sudden movement that ended with Arthur moaning loudly and rolling over onto his back, gripping his manhood in pain. Morgana took no time mimicking Arthur's prior motions and pinned the prince upon his own bed.

"Rule #4 of battle," she said matter-of-factly, "never trust the enemy."

"What ever happened to Rule 8?" asked Arthur, in a high pitched tone. "Never strike below the belt."

"Well, thank goodness we aren't really in battle," said Morgana playfully.

Or maybe they were, but whatever battle they were in, they were writing their own rules.

–

The delicate golden cloth sat alone on Merlin's wooden box of a nightstand, pristine. He'd used magic to wash the stain from the silk and it had worked like the charm it was. Not only had he returned it to its previous perfect state, but he had transformed it into a sash that resembled several thick olive branches combined as one circle to fit the slender waist of the virtual princess. He couldn't wait to return it to the king's ward. He'd gone to sleep in a rather good mood, picturing her thanking him.

"Merlin...Merlin..." called the voice again. "Merlin..."

Merlin's eyes shot open. He was growing rather sick of this voice, or whatever it was. He was going to find out who was calling to him once and for all. He took to his feet, throwing on his jacket and boots. Passing by a sleeping Gaius. Merlin slipped into the darkness of the castle only lit by torches that were few and far between. The voice continued to call his name, relentless it was. It was coming from below the castle. Merlin tricked a pair of guards into chasing the dice from their game down an opposing corridor to gain entrance into the lower levels.

"Merlin..."

It was echoing off the walls, coming from a small secluded door deep below the castle. Gripping his torch tightly, he followed the sound deeper and deeper into the dungeons, descending one final staircase. Around another corner of ruins and Merlin had reached the end, he could go no further. He stood before what he could only describe as a canyon. It was an enormous stone chamber, the size of which Merlin couldn't believe. It must have been the most bewildering place he had ever seen before. Stepping forward and lifting his torch he could make out several large caves leading into darkness. No one was here, however. He frowned to himself, realizing he'd had a wasted journey. No one was in sight. That rotten prat Prince Arthur must have played a trick on him. He turned his back to leave, but froze when a fit of deep laughter rang in his ears. Merlin pivoted about and waved his torch anxiously about.

"Where are you?" he demanded.

What happened next, Merlin would have never thought could happen in a hundred million suns. A humungous dragon shot up from below, its wingspan the size of a castle tower, yet it somehow managed to fly with utter grace. It landed atop a central dais, lowering its head at the young warlock.

"I am here," it smiled.

Merlin nearly fell onto his backside in shock and terror. The bloody creature was talking, talking to him! He must be dreaming.

"How small you are for such a great destiny," it continued.

"W-Why?" Merlin breathed, trying to remain calm and collected, speaking to the dragon as if it wasn't well, a fire-breathing monster that could kill him in one swift motion. "What do you mean? What destiny?"

"Your gift, Merlin, was given to you for a reason," said the Dragon.

"So there is a reason?" asked Merlin uneasily.

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion," said the Dragon.

Merlin furrowed his brow, "right."

"But he faces many threats, from friend and foe alike," the scaly beast went on.

"I don't see what this has to do with me," said the boy.

"Everything," the Dragon insisted confidently. "Without you Arthur will never succeed, without you there will be no Albion."

"No," said Merlin, shaking his head in protest. "You've got this wrong."

"There is no right or wrong," said the Dragon. "There is only what is and what isn't."

"I'm serious, if anyone wants to go and kill him they can go ahead," said the young warlock, flailing his arms. "In fact, I'll give them a hand."

The Dragon released a laugh that sounded sinister with a hint of amusement, Merlin couldn't really decide.

"None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin, and none of us can escape it," it said.

"No, no way, no," he persisted. "There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot."

"Perhaps it's your destiny to change that," said the beast. "Perhaps it is your destiny to change many things."

"Like what?" Merlin scoffed in disbelief.

"Like saving a thousand lives by saving one single soul," it explained.

"What, save who?" asked the warlock

"She has many names," said the Dragon, "the Lady Morgana does."

"She's in danger?" asked Merlin anxiously. "Who do I need to save her from?"

"Herself," it replied matter-of-factly, "and it will not be an easy battle. In fact, most would call it unwinnable."

"That doesn't make sense," he said, shaking his head slowly.

"In time, young warlock, everything will," the Dragon smirked, ascending into blackness.

–

"Oi!" grunted Gaius.

When the balled up pair of trousers struck Merlin's face the next morning, in his disoriented state, he decided he must have had an intense dream the night prior. However, the fact that his boots were still on proved otherwise. Gaius hovered over him with a disapproving stare, judging his messy room. Merlin sat up, running his fingers through his dark locks and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"What do you think of the state of this room?" asked the old man, looking about at the discarded apparel items on the floor.

"It just sort of happens," he shrugged.

"Like magic?" Gaius joked in an unfunny sort of way.

"Er– yeah," Merlin shrugged.

"Right," said Gaius, annoyed. "Well, clean this mess up and then I need you to go and fetch me some wormwood. After that, go and drop this sleeping potion off to the Lady Morgana. The poor girl has terrible nightmares."

"Bad dreams?" asked the young warlock curiously.

"Yes, Merlin, that typically is the definition of a nightmare," said Gaius, increasingly annoyed to have to repeat himself, handing the boy the bottle of potion.

"What sort of nightmares does she have?"

"They vary," said Gaius halfheartedly.

"Like...?"

"Like of a horrible tornado monster that wreaks havoc in unsuspecting bedrooms," said Gaius in jest.

"Ha ha, very funny," Merlin smirked sardonically at the physician of whom smiled down at him.

–

Merlin hid the newly decorated sash within his jacket, making sure no passersby caught sight of his mildly suspicious possession. He looked down at the dark red liquid bubbling within the small glass vial. It was much thicker looking in density and less appealing than what Lady Helen had been given. He couldn't shake this incessant funny feeling he had gotten after delivering the yellow potion to the great singer's chambers. He had discovered some odd sort of straw doll and an unexplained amulet atop her dresser. He tried to forget about the incident, but for some reason he could not. Merlin had a sixth sense for trouble. It had been his downfall in many instances.

The Lady Morgana's chamber was in its own tower across the castle. Merlin climbed the curving staircase to her bedroom to find the door cracked open. He slowly stepped through the doorway, setting eyes on her at once. He opened his mouth to notify her of his presence, but he found himself speechless, unable to formulate a sentence. It was pathetic, he thought to himself, how unbelievably nervous he was around her, how intimidated. He had no reason to be. She treated him like a human, like he wasn't a second-class citizen. She lifted her hair off her back and strolled behind her changing blinds. Merlin shifted uncomfortably, deciding to return later than risk an awkward situation. Too late, his large and unsteady foot accidentally hit the door and pushed it all the way open in response. Merlin cringed, closing his eyes tight as the door squeaked loudly. Without looking over, Morgana deducted it was Guinevere.

"You know, I've been thinking a lot about Arthur," said Morgana.

That's unfortunate, thought Merlin.

"Pass me that dress, would you, Gwen?" she asked, unknowingly before continuing her rant. "I mean, he's a a total jouster, and just because I'm the King's ward doesn't mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it?"

Merlin lifted up the gown upon a nearby bench that Morgana wanted and hung it over the top of the standing blinds, lowering his head to hide his face. He felt like an idiot.

"Well, does it?" she repeated.

"Mm-mm," Merlin hummed in a high pitched tone, looking around like a chicken with its head cut off. Well, he guessed a chicken could look around without a head, but still.

"If he wanted me to go then he should have asked me, but he hasn't," she went on. "So do you know what that means?"

"Mm-mm," he said again desperately.

Merlin hastily hung his handmade sash for the king's ward over the top of her desk chair and set the potion before it.

"Er– where are you?" asked Morgana a bit suspiciously, peeking over.

"Here!" Merlin squeaked, holding up her adjacent cloak before her face.

"Oh, well it means I'm going alone," she replied.

Merlin dropped the cloak to the table, pleased to hear of the beauty's choice to not attend the feast with the pompous prince of whom he disliked immensely. He turned quickly and darted out the door before Morgana could ask another question, an inquiry that required more than just a "yes" or "no" answer. He saw Gwen coming towards Morgana's chambers and hid in a nook as she passed before returning to Gaius.

Morgana finally gave her bedroom a good look after fastening her dress. Gwen was no where in sight, the room bare besides herself. She strode out from behind her standing blinds and looked about, even leaning over to peek under the table.

"Gwen?" she said with an upward inflection.

Then a shiny gold item caught her eye. It was the olive branch sash. She delicately took it into her hands and let it dangle down her arm. She realized what happened after noticing the potion atop the table as well. She smiled to herself at how uncomfortable Merlin must have been just then. Admiring her new beautiful accessory, the king's ward realized that Arthur had been right. There was something about the young man that she couldn't put her finger on, but she knew that someday she would.

–

Morgana adjusted the back ribbon of the sash around her waist and waited for the guards to open the doors to the Great Hall for her. Arthur would eat his heart out for certain that evening. Her maroon gown hung snugly on her, emphasizing her small figure. When the doors opened and she slowly made her entrance a quiet sea of gasps rang in her ears at how lovely she appeared. She kept her eyes forward, making certain to only slightly glance at the prince and his usual group of moronic friends out of the corner of her deep green eyes. It was enough to cause his jaw to quite literally drop and mouth something that looked like "God, have mercy." She smiled softly to herself, arriving at her destination: the wine. Arthur appeared before her in less than thirty seconds. She'd won this round.

"Arthur," she said in a voice that almost sounded like he'd snuck up on her. He knew her act and smiled cheekily at her, pouring himself another glass of wine.

"New dress?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," she replied, smiling. "What do you think?"

"It's positively hideous, dreadful, a total eye sore," he teased, handing her a goblet of wine he'd poured.

She playfully swatted his arm, rolling her eyes and laughing lightly. His pale blue eyes teased her more than his words. He looked more handsome than usual, his red cape hanging casually over his strong, broad shoulders and caused his skin to appear full of life and excitement. She felt her cheeks flush, knowing he'd one round two. Their relationship was just one big game, a game where they were both destined to lose.

Merlin looked on at the couple of sovereign bloods, holding his tray of grapes a bit lower as he watched Prince Arthur's finger gently, sensually tug the Lady Morgana closer to him by her sash, the sash he had made her no less. It made his stomach a bit unsettled, but he shook it off regretfully. He was foolish to long after the virtual princess, and he wished more than anything he could stop himself. However, for the first time, Merlin was powerless. He hadn't noticed he'd been staring at the pair for several minutes until Guinevere brought his ogling to his attention with a slight nudge.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" implying her dear friend's appearance.

"Er– yeah, she does," said Merlin dreamily.

"Some people are just born to be Queen," said the pretty young maid, peering down and adjusting several trays of food on an opposing table. She didn't appear to notice the almost distraught look on the warlock's face.

"No!" he objected, his voice foreign to him.

"I hope so, one day," said Gwen, repositioning the final plate, "not that I'd want to be her. Who'd want to marry Arthur?"

"Come on, Gwen, I thought you liked those rough-tough, save the world kind of men," said Merlin lightheartedly, watching Arthur tilt Morgana's face upwards to meet his by slowly pressing his thumb under her chin. She smiled in reply and Merlin cringed.

"No, I like much more ordinary men like you," said Gwen, unaware of the couple her new friend was looking at.

"Gwen, believe me, I'm not ordinary," he chuckled, dumb to what the maid was implying.

"No, I didn't mean you, obviously, not you," she said awkwardly. "I just like much more ordinary men like you."

"Thanks," said Merlin, confused. Gwen smiled fleetingly and hurried off to suddenly become occupied offering refills of ale. Merlin furrowed his brow after her, setting his tray of fruit neatly upon the table. He didn't even notice someone coming up behind him.

"I'd settle if I were you," said a somewhat familiar voice. Merlin turned his head to the side and saw the young man he'd saved from Arthur's immature wrath a couple days prior. He apparently had a similar job tending to the guests with delicacies as did the young warlock judging from the tray of strawberries propped on his flattened palm and shoulder. Merlin raised an eyebrow. "I'm Mylor by the way. I've been meaning to thank you for getting Prince Idiot off my back. I'm in your debt...?"

"Merlin," he said kindly, extending his hand for Mylor to shake with his free palm. "It was nothing, really. Don't mention it. What did you say about settling, settling for what?"

"For Guinevere," he said as if Merlin should have already known.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, it's obvious she fancies you," he replied. "I've watched her stare at you like the last leg of lamb all evening, just as you've done the same to the Lady Morgana."

"Not following you," he said.

"Listen, I'll let you in on a secret, Merlin, because I like you. I've seen more men than I can count make fools of themselves just to try get the Lady Morgana to bat an eyelash at them over the years, men much better off and much better looking than you, no offense," Mylor explained. Merlin snorted at his 'no offense' comment. "It's pointless. The only bloke she'd ever given a second glance is Prince Git, and that's how it always will be. She's the future Queen of Camelot, Merlin, so I'd watch my step if I were you. Guinevere is a good woman, kind and generous. She'd make a favorable bride in my opinion. If I were you, I'd forget about the Lady Morgana and give Gwen a second look."

"I think you've got the wrong idea, my friend," said Merlin, unsure whether he liked this boy or not. "I have no interest in the Lady Morgana, and I already know of her relationship with him. In regard to Guinevere, she deserves to be with someone who doesn't see being with her as settling, every woman deserves that."

"Well, how do you see being with her then?"

"I– I don't know," said Merlin, shrugging. "All I do know is that I have no intention of doting on Lady Morgana. I deliver her potions, nothing else than–"

"Merlin, hello," said Morgana, interrupting the two men. She'd spotted her new friend across the room and left Arthur to return to his boisterous mates. "I wanted to thank you for the beautiful sash."

Mylor snorted a laugh, enjoying Merlin's uneasy expression. He nudged Merlin in the side with his elbow and muttered something about seeing him later before returning to his work with a large amount of satisfaction. Merlin blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, grinning despite himself.

"You're welcome," he mumbled. "I tried to make it look good as new."

"Well, it's better than good as new," she insisted. "It looks absolutely gorgeous."

"So do y–" he began before he could stop himself, luckily someone else did.

"Morgana," King Uther called to his ward, beckoning her to him. "Come here, my child."

Merlin released a heavy sigh of relief, thankful the king had prevented him from making an idiot of himself. Morgana rolled her eyes with her back turned to the king, smiling pleasantly to Merlin before dismissing herself to join Uther and Prince Arthur. The King had asked her to take her seat before the night's performance began. She reluctantly did so, sitting on Uther's left hand side whilst Arthur occupied his right. Uther rose to his feet only a few moments later to look onto his guests.

"We have enjoyed twenty years off peace and prosperity, it has brought myself and the kingdom many pleasures," said King Uther, addressing the crowd, "but few can compare the honor of introducing Lady Helen of Mora."

The group of onlookers clapped in great anticipation. Lady Helen stood upon a center dais in a yellow gown that was rather stunning. She took a deep breath before opening her mouth, releasing what Merlin decided to be the most beautiful singing voice he'd ever heard. He enjoyed the melodious tune, not realizing the affect it was taking on the crowd. Then he heard the metal tray of strawberries fall from Mylor's hand from behind him. The servant had collapsed to the ground as did everyone around him. They were all falling asleep as Lady Helen sung on. Arthur, Uther and Morgana all became hunched over in their chairs, cobwebs suddenly appearing out of then air atop them. Merlin covered his ears though he didn't need to. He had magic, he was immune to the spell.

Lady Helen strolled casually towards the head table of the three royals, grinning wickedly. Her eyes were set upon Arthur as she pulled a dagger from her sleeve. Merlin looked from the sorceress to the prince and back again. He thought of how much he disliked the prince and then the Dragon's prophecy. Frantically searching for a way to end the enchantment, Merlin spotted the heavy metal chandelier directly above the witch. Merlin narrowed his eyes and pictured it falling, withing a few seconds it did. It crushed the woman, forcing her to lie flat on her face atop the stone floor. Her singing instantly ceased and the once sleeping guests began to wake and realize what exactly had just happened.

The head table stood, staring down at the now elderly woman to be recognized as Thomas Collins' mother, the woman who had threatened the prince's life. Arthur motioned to move towards the woman to see if she was dead, but he had his answer before then. The witch lifted her head, snatched her fallen dagger before her and threw it with all her might at the prince with her final breath. Merlin's eyes glowed gold once more, slowing down time just long enough to pull Arthur out of the line of the blade. The two men fell to the side as the knife penetrated the back of the chair Arthur had just stood before. Morgana gasped, clutching her shaking hand to her wine stained lips. She followed behind Uther as he helped the pair to their feet.

Morgana looked over at the chair she stood beside, yanking the dagger from its resting place and staring at it curiously. She couldn't imagine if it had hit its target. She quickly pulled up her skirt when no one was looking and slid it in her guarder against her outer thigh. She didn't know why she took it, but she felt almost inclined to do so.

"You saved my boy's life," said the king to Merlin with great affection. "A debt must be repaid."

"Uh, well–"

"Don't be so modest," said Uther. "You must be rewarded."

"No, really you don't have to–" the warlock stammered nervously.

"You shall be awarded a position in the royal house," he said, gripping Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin lifted his gaze onto Morgana, meeting her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted, her expression unreadable. He was secretly wishing he would be able to work for her, be able to see her every day.

"You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant," the king finished, slapping his son's back before departing to speak with guards to rid the castle of the deceased sorceress. The crowd cheered at the news, including Morgana. She looked pleased at the disapproving expression on Arthur's part.

"Father!" Arthur objected, sharing an equally disgusted look from Merlin.

Morgana took a step towards Arthur, gripping his elbow.

"I have a feeling that this is the start of a great friendship," she joked, utterly unaware of the future truth of her sentiment.

"Oh, shut up," Arthur groaned, following after he father in a huff and leaving the pair alone.

"If he gives you any trouble just let me know," she grinned at him, winking at the new servant of the court before striding over to Guinevere. "I'll take care of him."

And with that simple gesture the young warlock had gotten something dozens of men would kill for, a batted eyelash.

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A/N: I'm so happy with the response to Chapter One! It's rare to get a lot of reviews in this fandom. Thanks to each and every one of you. I'll have shout outs to all my reviewers after next chapter. Who is excited for Valiant? I am!

PS: Please, no one, get offended by this ArMor business I've got going on. I'm using canon pairings, and you know what, people? I think Arthur and Morgana had this sort of relationship. Some may disagree, but I always thought they had a sort of friends with benefits type deal going on, but they were awkward admitting their true feelings for one another. They had plenty lust but lacked intimacy, basically. Anyways, this is still a Merlin/Morgana and Arthur/Gwen fic, so please stay with me there will be more ArMor and Gwen/Merlin before the true pairings.

Coming Soon: Arthur and Merlin at least have one thing in common: Jealousy.

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Love Always,

The Witch, the Lady Milena