Excalibur
A/N: I apologise for the long wait but I haven't had a lot of time or been in the right mood for writing. Not helped by some rather annoying reviews.
I don't like to whine or rant but I have to get this out as it really upset me. I am not usually sensitive and I welcome constructive criticism and comments but I had some unnecessary reviews left which were unfair especially one.
I very much resent being told that I have ruined anything. Especially when this is purely for fun.
I don't usually like to respond or defend my stories but I have to wonder why this person bothered to read this story in the first place. The story's title and summary are quite clear.
Anyway I do hope people continue to review and offer ideas or point out mistakes. I really appreciate feedback and I am sorry I let this review put me off writing for a while.
Now on with the story.
It was the dead of night when Merlyn finally crawled into her bed. Her tiny hands were cramping painfully and her feet felt heavy and sore. If there was one thing the Lady Morgana could do well, it was throw a party. The celebrations for Arthur's coming of age had transformed Camelot. The festival had been a success and preparations for the crowning tomorrow where ahead of schedule.
Merlyn was no stranger to hard work. As soon as she'd been able to, she and the other children would be fetching and carrying or scavenging in the forest. But she seemed to be doing the work of three people at the moment. She was Morgana's handmaiden, training Guinevere's new handmaiden, Eira and was also Gaius's unofficial apprentice. So it was with some relief that she curled up and rested her head on her flattened straw pillow. It was a deep and restful sleep that was not to last.
It was still in the depth of night when she woke in a breathless panic. Chilled to the very bone she shivered under her thread-bare blanket. She tried to recall what had woken her in such terror. Snatches of half images flashed though her mind too quickly for her to identify but it was the overwhelming sense of wrongness that disturbed the air. The magic in her veins pulsed uncomfortably. Something was very wrong.
Unbeknownst to her, beneath the Citadel, in the Royal crypt, a dead man was walking.
XxXxX
The feeling hadn't diminished by the next evening. Merlyn had spent the rest of the night huddled next to the fireplace in the main chamber trying to warm her frozen bones and dragged herself though her chores. Her Uncle had sent her several concerned looks but had been unable to corner her. To distract herself she had thrown herself into her work. The Lady Morgana looked radiant and Eira had done an amazing job preparing the Lady Guinevere.
Now she stood with Glyndwr who watched with barely restrained excitement as the King began the ceremony. Prince Arthur looked majestic in his armour, the steel shining in the candle light as he knelt before his father and the throne he would one day ascend to. The King stood above him, an equally grand figure but the pride for his son was evident in his face.
"Do you promise to exercise mercy and justice in your deeds and judgements?"
"I do, Sire."
"Do you swear allegiance to Camelot, now and for as long as you shall live."
Arthur looked his father in the eye as he answered solemnly.
"I, Arthur Pendragon, do pledge life and limb to your service and to the protection of the kingdom and its people."
Uther reached over and took the silver crown he had, had made for his son and heir and presented it to the room raising it above his own head before slowly lowering it.
"Now being of age and heir apparent, from henceforth you shall be Crowned Prince of Camelot." Arthur closed his eyes as the crown rested on his golden head. Standing he shook his father's hand and turned to face the cheering room, nodding at the various dignitaries who had attended the ceremony and following feast.
He smiled and nodded at Morgana, knowing she had spent a lot of time and effort in the preparations and the Lady Guinevere, here partner in crime. Morgana smiled prettily, bowing her head and sending him a flirtatious look with her eyes, Guinevere blushed. Clearing his throat his eyes wondered the room to where his manservant stood. Glen stood there looking pleased as punch as he should. The younger man had been a godsend this past week, bearing Arthurs moods and seemingly endless list of chores, maybe not like a saint, but certainly a trooper. He acknowledged the younger man who lit up in pleasure at the honour.
Beside Glen was Merlyn, who beamed back at him. Arthur took a deep breath savoring the moment, the atmosphere of the room and the approval of those nearest to him.
But as he watched Merlyn, he saw smile slide from her face and her eyes widen. Time seemed to slow as she started to turn, spin around when a loud crash split the air. He watched Merlyn and Glen as they ducked to the floor, covering their heads as the colored glass flew down towards them. Tearing his eyes from his fallen friends he stared in disbelief at the black stallion and the Knight that had charged, seemingly unharmed though the window.
The crowds in the hall parted in shocked silence, the grand horse's hooves clacking loudly against the stone floor. The knight's armour was the darkest Arthur had ever seen, the helmet disguising the man's identity. He had the attention of everyone in the room. He looked at the man's crest, but it was unknown to him.
The knight did not say a word as he reached the front of the hall, standing in front of father and son. There was a sudden movement and suddenly, a silver gauntlet was thrown down at the horse's feet. Arthur moved forwards at once to accept the challenge, but another Knight was quicker.
"I, Sir Owain accept your challenge."
Arthur gritted his teeth with annoyance. Sir Owain was a young, cocky and ambitious knight, eager to prove himself to the Prince and the older Knights. But this was not the way to do.
"Single Combat, noon tomorrow. To the death." The knight's voice was deep and almost otherworldly. It sent chills down the spines of even Uther Pendragon. The court watched as the Black Knight turned his steed with headed out, choosing to leave though the large doorway which the guards hurried to open wider, eager for the mysterious figure to leave.
On his way to the door, the knight passed Merlyn, who lay on the door, blood dripping from a scalp wound. It might have been the shock and blood loss, and that's what she'd told Glen when she had come to half an hour later in her room. But she knew it was the rush of hate, malevolence and pure evil that the Black Knight radiated that had caused her to faint.
XxXxX
Arthur was fuming silently in his chambers when the Lady Morgana burst into his chambers and started a futile argument with him. Morgana seemed to think he could fix everything and cure or ills, but the reality was that he was powerless. How grand he had felt earlier that evening as his father set that crown on his head. The very same crown that now felt twice as heavy.
"He shouldn't have picked up the Gauntlet." He growled frustrated, pacing the width of the room, agitated.
"Well then, put an end to it." Morgana argued, slightly pleading. He knew Sir Owain was one of her favorite knights and the unnaturalness of the Black Knight had disturbed everyone who'd witnessed him.
"The challenge has been taken up." Was his weary answer. "It can't be stopped."
"Then take his place." Morgana shot back, fueling his anger.
"I can't! Owain took up the challenge. He is one who must fight. It Is the Knights code!" He exploded, throwing the cup he was fiddling with to the table making the two woman jump.
"But it's a fight to the death." Morgana protested softly and weakly.
"I know."
XxXxX
His misgivings stayed with him all knight and he arose early the next morning and dragged his men into practice. He and the other knights peppered the younger with advice and encouragement but the time past too quickly and before he knew it, Sir Owain was bring prepared for the duel.
"You've never fought in mortal combat before. It's different than the training I've been giving you."
"Yes, I know." Owain replied, seemly calm but Arthur knew his men. Owain was listening.
"The problem is that we have never seen him fight. You have to quickly get the measure of him."
"I have the same advantage," Sir Owain pointed out. "He has never seen me fight,"
"True," Arthur said agreeing, trying to be upbeat.
"You've watched me …And…" Arthur knew the weight of the question Owain had asked him.
"I know none braver." He replied true fully. Owain was a brave man and a skilled fighter with a lot of potential. He could win this fight.
The knight's face lit up at the praise and turned to pick up his armour, stopping when Merlyn walked in the room.
She made her way to the knight and smiled.
"The Lady Morgana asked me to give you this token. She wishes for you to wear it for luck." With that she held out the red silk ribbon. The Lady was wearing the like and taking her seat in the arena.
Odin took it with a smile, blushing slightly.
"Tell her I will wear it with pride, but I will not need luck." Arthur noticed Merlyn swallow uncomfortably, but Owain was distracted tying the ribbon to his armour. He stood next to her and watched as Owain left for the arena.
Merlyn turned to leave but Arthur found himself blocking her path. He eyes the yellowing bruise and healing cut in her hair line with concern.
"How are you? How's the head? I saw you go down."
"Er…Its fine." Merlyn subconsciously touched the offending wound he was eying and winced on contact remembering that that was not perhaps the best idea. Arthur winced in sympathy. "I think it was just the blood loss and exhaustion."
"You and the other servants have done a great job this week. The celebrations were fantastic."
"Thank you, my lord. The Lady Morgana and Lady Guinevere were determined to make you and Camelot proud."
"Hence the exhaustion," Arthur joked.
Merlyn smiled briefly but the sounds of cheers as Owain made his way into the arena caused her lips to drop. As he watched she began to bite down on her lower lip, looking at the door the young knight had exited.
"I have such a bad feeling about that Knight."
"Owain?"
"The Black Knight," Merlyn answered, jumping slightly, seeming to have forgotten that he were there.
"Owain is a fine Knight." Attempting to reassure her, Arthur put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and nodded with a weak smile before excusing herself.
XxXxX
The duel had ended with Owain's death. Merlyn knew that he had been the real victor. Camelot's challenger had landed a fatal blow. The first one. Gaius's words as they'd watched the Black Knight leave the arena unhindered haunted her.
"He should be dead."
"Maybe he already is."
Her Uncle knew something. She was sure of it. This feeling was only confirmed that evening as Gaius summoned her to follow him deep into the recesses of the catacombs. Her interest peaked as she realised he was heading toward the royal crypt.
"Should we be doing this? She asked hesitantly, really not wanting to go down amongst the dead.
"Why? Scared?" Her uncle teased.
"Me? No. I love crypts especially the deep dark ones. Would not be seen dead anywhere else…Actually that's a lie. Swear to me, Gaius, if I go before you. Make sure I'm buried outside somewhere in the ground…with the worms…Actually…."
Her Uncle chuckled grimly at her morbid humor, which was cut off as the heavy door to the entrance of the crypt slammed shut behind them, leaving them in complete darkness.
"Ahh..Must have been a gust of wind." He said unfazed, "Should have brought a touch."
"Leoc Morla."
From the darkness came Merlyn's voice and a golden glow. Suddenly the expired torch in its holder a few feet away lit up and illuminated the surrounding tunnel. Merlyn beamed proudly.
"That's the first time it's worked with words." She told him as she picked it up."
"Pardon?"
"I've been able to make sparks and light things without words since I was a child."
"Then why learn the incantation?" Gaius wondered aloud. Slightly exasperated.
Mildly insulted, Merlyn defended herself. "Because I have to learn how to say the words for other more complicated incantations. Remember how long it took me to animate that stone dog…"
"It took you longer to return it to stone!" He mused as Merlyn blushed. She had spent a week on the spare cot until she had managed to return the dog to stone. She had grown fond of the creature but he was an attack dog and did not get on with Gaius at all.
"What are we looking for?" She rapidly changed the subject knowing she wasn't going to get any more of an apology from her Uncle.
A few minutes more they had found it. Merlyn was disgusted, looking at the desecrated tomb. How dare someone destroy someone's last resting place.
"Who would do this? She asked appalled.
"I think he did." Gaius said gravely illuminating the name of the deceased. "I think he's broken out.
XxXxXxX
Gaius remained tight lipped until the pair returned to his chambers. Once behind the relative safety of the doors he sighed wearily rubbing his eyes. Looking up at his niece, he knew he had to tell her part of the sordid tale. But not all. Never all.
He told her the story of Triston DuBois, Ygraine's brother. And his belief that Uthur was responsible for her death in child birth. How he had challenged the King to single combat and lost. He had died cursing Uther.
"He said Camelot would one day suffer his return."
"Men don't just rise up from the dead. No matter how angry they are. He had help." Merlyn said quietly, dread in her voice.
"It is my guess that we are dealing with a wraith." He elaborated at Merlyn's questioning frown. "The spirit of a dead man conjured from the grave."
"So this is the work of a powerful sorcerer." She determined, unease thick in her voice.
"Powerful magic can harness the grief and rage of a tormented soul and make it live again."
"How do we stop it?" Merlyn prompted heading toward the bookcases.
"We can't." Her Uncles flat statement halted her steps she swung round disbelievingly.
"Why not?"
"Because it is not alive. No mortal weapon can kill it."
"There must be something." But a tight knot fisted in her stomach as Gaius shook his head.
"Revenge on Camelot."
XxXxXx
Merlyn watched in horror as Arthur challenged the Black Knight. Sir Pellinor had fought magnificently but was slain by the unearthly wraith. This time Arthur would not be held back. As the crowd waited for the Black Knight to issue another challenge, the Prince acted swiftly.
Escorting an agitated Lady Morgana to her chambers with the Lady Guinevere attempting to soothe her, they heard the shouting from the stateroom as father and son argued. There was a loud bang and the Prince left the room, allowing the heavy door to swing back on its own. He strode toward the stairs, a fierce look on his face. Morgana took off after him.
"This is wrong." Guinevere whispered, watching her friend chase after the Prince. "That knight is just wrong. I'm sure Sir Pellinor landed a fatal blow. This should all be over."
"Your right." Merlyn agreed. "There is something very wrong."
"He must be terrified." The older woman said, feeling for the Prince. "I know Morgana is. She thought he would do something like this."
Merlyn smiled sadly. "I'm not surprised either. He is a great leader. He will not ask another knight to do something he would not do himself. He is the best knight in Camelot."
"My brother agrees. I am glad he is not here. He would have accepted the challenge as well."
They walked in a troubled silence back to Morgana's chambers to await her return.
XxXxXx
As the night fell, Merlyn snuck out of the Castle, muttering the brief incantation under her breath as she stealthily made her way as close to the wraith as she could.
She had spent part of her evening with the two ladies. Once Morgana had returned from her meeting with Arthur, frustrated tears in her eyes, she was dismissed, leaving the two noblewomen with some privacy to discuss the day's events. With Lady Guinevere how firmly established as a confident and companion, Merlyn found herself becoming more distant from her employer.
She returned to her chambers to pour over her Uncles books, when Gaius returned very late from his rounds deeply troubled. Leaving him to settle, she'd snuck out to the courtyard where the Knight stood unmoving.
She got as close as she dared, took a deep breath and steadied herself. Using words to direct her magic was still so new to her. She was picking up the Old Religion and Druid dialects at an impressive speed but it was more than the pronunciation of the words. It required focus, control and imagination to conjure her magic which was sometimes as easy as breathing…and sometimes scary as hell.
"Cume Hay Forbearnor!" The words came easier this time, and she watched in horrified fascination as the Black Knight was slowly engulfed in the approaching flames.
For a split seconds, she had thought it would work…Until the flames where slowly extinguished by an unseen force. At first the Knight did not seem to react. Then he let out a single loud long roar which startled her.
The knight slowly turned his head toward her, but she was already running.
XxXxXxX
Arthur swung the blade of his sword in a downward arch from his hip to his knee, blocking an imagined strike. He had dismissed Glen for the evening despite his protests, not wanting to take his frustration out on the younger man. He was still fuming over his argument with both his father and Morgana. They really had no faith in him what so ever.
He had thought things were getting better with the King. Only two days before he was crowned Prince by his seemingly proud father. Arthur knew he was the best swordsman in Camelot. He had worked for it, training every available hour, studying all the other Knights that had come before.
The King could not do anything now. The challenge had been issued and the code, his code, demanded it be upheld. Just because he was the Crowned Prince did not mean he was above the code. He hated his father's attitude toward the lower classes. Glen's word meant nothing against a Knights, although Valiant was certainly cheating during the tournament. Merlyn came close to dying in order to teach his wayward son a lesson. His father had, had no problem with her dying. Her life meant little to him, no matter that she was someone's daughter, niece and friend.
Then there was Morgana. Storming into his chambers and yelling at him as if she had a right to tell him what to do. She was not his wife or his keeper. Honestly the girl's mood swings were frustrating and increasing uncomfortable to bear.
Underneath all the anger was a deep hurt that the two people he was closest too had so little faith in him. Had he not proved himself already?
He swung the blade again angrily against the empty air, when the door to his chambers crashed open…
"Glen, you know we had that conversation about knocking….Merlyn." He was a little shocked from her arrival. She had obviously run her, her cheeks flushed from exertion in an otherwise pale face.
"You can't do this." Her breath rushed out along with the words, her voice scarcely audible, it took a second for the words to register with the Prince, so distracted was he by her dishevelled appearance.
"And why is that." He demanded tiredly, his heart sinking at yet another of those closest to him doubting him.
"Look at him!" She told him forgetting herself and grabbing his wrist, turning him as she strode pass him to the window to where she knew the knight would be visible. "He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep. He stands there in the heat of day and bitter cold of night without flinching. That is no ordinary knight, Arthur."
"No one is unbeatable, Merlyn." He argued flatly.
"You fight him and you'll die." She nearly shouted, slapping an open hand against the wall by the window with a painful smack.
Arthur lifted an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic show of temper and found his own barely concealed one smoulder.
"You know what, Merlyn, I am sick of people telling me that. Of doubting me."
"It's the truth, Arthur. In a fair fight you would win. Hands down. This is Valiant all over again. That man is not of this world. You are the Crowned Prince. No one wants to see you slain tomorrow, not in a stupid challenge.
"I am not a coward!" Arthur took an angry step toward her at the perceived slight.
Merlyn tried to temper her anger, which was fed by the fresh wave of fear from her failure to affect the wraith. To save him.
"No." She said making the effort to say the words calmly, but he could still see the struggle inside her. "You are the bravest man I have ever met. I've stood by and watched you conquer every fear you have ever faced."
"It is my duty."
"You are more than that. You are more than a mere warrior. You are the future King. You've proved your courage time and again. Now you must prove your wisdom."
Perhaps she would have got through to him, had she spoken the words in a calm rational manner. But she was not calm and the fear and panic in her voice only fed her anger and his.
"Please listen to me, Arthur. Please. I'm trying to warn…"
"And I am warning you." Arthur snapped, reaching her in two long strides. Two large hands grabbed her upper arms and she was effortlessly pulled up on to her tiptoes. He shook her as he continued to move forward, causing Merlyn to stumble backward on her toes and stone until her back hit the wall.
Arthur held her there with his hands, fingers gripping the skin, tight enough to leave bruises. He breathed hard, anger radiating off him in waves. Merlyn was afraid. For him and now just a little bit for herself. Her own chest heaved with exhaustion, her body tense and waiting for his next move.
She didn't see it coming.
XxXxX
"I wish you hadn't."
The moment he had said the words Uther wished he could take them back. Recognizing the falsehood as soon as he had told it. He loved his son. Ygraine would have loved him. She did. He had watched her grow round with child, glowing with the gift of motherhood. She would talk to the child in the womb, constantly, making plans and telling stories. Yet magic had cruelly torn her from them just as her son was laid in her arms.
The disgust in that woman's voice mirrored his own self-loathing and he jumped to rectify it.
"I will not let you take him." He vowed.
"I have watched so many people I love die at your hands, Uther." Nimueh hissed venomously, "Now it is your turn.
Uther spun around, but found himself once again, alone in his state room.
XxXxXx
Merlyn was running again, this time away from the Princes Chambers. Ducking into the library she sighed and leant shakily against the door. Pulling up her shelves she looked at her bruised arms, able to make out where every finger had branded her skin. She rolled the sleeves back down and raised a trembling hand to brush her swollen lips. She could still taste him.
Arthur's face loomed over her, eyes dark and glittering furiously at her. She blinked and suddenly his face was a lot closer and his lips pressed hard against hers in a punishing kiss. It was miles away from the tender kiss they had shared not so long ago. She gasped in shock and suddenly his tongue had pushed through her lips and into her mouth, demanding hers to respond.
She hadn't expected it too but suddenly an instinct had taken over, one she did not know she had. She felt her heart thump hard as she clumsily moved her mouth against his, blood rushing though her ears. She did not realize she was now gripping his tunic, or that one of his hands had slipped down her arm and behind her to rest on her back.
Then it was over, the kiss ending as suddenly as it began. Arthur tore his mouth, then his hands away from her. She slumped against the wall staring at him as he stared back at her, slightly horrified.
"I…I…" He stuttered, completely lost.
"I have to go." Merlyn said quickly, surprised at the slightly squeaking, rushed voice that came out of her mouth. Then she bolted.
She had no idea what had just happened. She only knew two things. One, She needed to find out how to kill the wraith, Two, She needed to stay away from the Prince. She had enjoyed the kiss too much and wanted to do it again. It couldn't happen again. Her life depended on it.
The shuffling of feet drew her attention to Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth as he rounded the nearest stack, a heavy, dusty volume in his hands. The old man had sharp eyes and a sharper intelligence. Merlyn was a little bit afraid of him. Sometimes he would look at her and she could swear that he knew, that he could see something about her.
"How goes the search." He asked her. "Have we figured out what this creature is?"
"Yes," Merlyn cleared her throat and moved further into his rooms. "Uncle Gaius believes it to be a wraith. We were hoping to use the older books, to see if we can find any means to destroy it."
"A wraith…That explains the crest." Sir Geoffrey nodded in agreement and motioned to a long table which held a few books open at various pages. "We should combine our efforts."
"Good idea. My Uncle suggested looking for references to weapons that will kill the undead."
The old scholar's eyes sparked immediately in remembrance.
"I have such things in the ancient chronicles." He turned swiftly and delved into the stacks, Merlyn followed him quickly to an old, dark section of the library. He pulled out a thick, dusty volume and dropped it on the table, Merlyn coughing in the resulting dust cloud.
"Several fables speak of ancient swords. Swords that could destroy anything alive or dead."
"That sounds perfect, Sir."
"Here, the Chronicle of Beltane…
Sir Marhaus looked upon the great sword begotten in the dragons' breath and found it passing good."
"That's it." Merlyn said, a small flutter of hope dead in her belly. "There must be something like that in the vaults."
"I don't rem…"
"Thank you, Sir Geoffrey. I will go look right now." She tore out of the room but instead of heading to the vaults, she headed for the town.
XxXxXx
Glyndwr had handed his father's best sword over without a second thought. The blade was beautiful and even a complete novice like Merlyn could feel the difference between this and one of the everyday training blades.
Promising herself she would see Tom good somehow she hurried back to the Castle and down the catacombs. She knew the way down to the Great Dragons cave almost by heart. She could not honestly say she enjoyed her visits with the ancient being, most of his conversation only serving to confuse her immensely. But she forced herself to visit the lonely creature a few times a week.
His admittedly valid grudge against Uther worried her. It blinded to all others in the vicinity. In this case Arthur himself.
"Then let him take his revenge and the wraith will die without my aid." He said almost gleeful at the thought of his enemy's demise.
"But it is Arthur who is to fight him. You have to save him."
"That is your destiny. Not mine." The old Dragon said disinterested, his tail waving dismissively.
"If Arthur dies, Camelot had no heir. And I no destiny."
The Dragon let out a sigh that whistle though the cave, nearly extinguishing the torch in Merlyn's hand.
"A weapon burnished with my breath will have great power."
"I kno..."
"You do not." He snapped cutting her off abruptly and silenced her. "You can only guess. You have not seen what I have seen. If you had perhaps you will not ask this of me. In the wrong hands this sword could do great evil. It must be wielded by Arthur and him alone."
"I understand." She promised solemnly.
"You must do more than understand. You must promise."
"I promise."
Instinct had her unwrapping the sword and she watched as it was lifted high by an unseen force, glisten in the torch light then began to glow. The Great Dragon took a deep breath. Then let the air rush from his lungs, small flickers of fire and white flame swishing though the air and over the suspended blade which glowed brighter. She watched fascinated. She could see the magic sailing through the air, and wrapping itself around the length of the sword. Writing appeared, burnt with white flame into the decoration.
The sword gently drifted toward her. She reached out and grabbed the hilt, amazed at the swords transformation.
"Heed my words." The Great Dragon intoned with great importance. "The sword was forged for Arthur and him alone."
She left him, his words following her.
XxXxXx
She slept little that night, her mind on the magnificent sword hidden in cloth under her bed. She could feel it, the ancient magic resonating from the metal. When she entered the armoury and started setting out the Princes armour, nerves coiled in her gut. Memories of their encounter had been pushed aside as she concentrated on her task but with his imminent arrival she grew more apprehensive about seeing the Prince.
The armour set out and ready she unwrapped the sword, admiring it again in the light shining through the window.
"That is a fine blade."
Merlyn jumped in surprise at the Kings voice, having not hear his arrival.
"It is for Prince Arthur, Sire." She stammered quickly returning the sword to the table and covering it slightly. Although she had seen the King and spent hours in the same room with him whilst attending the Lady Morgana, she never spoke directly to him. His presence was putting her as off balance as his son's did.
"He will not be needing it today."
She looked closely at him, seeing the dark eyes and calm posture. He had aged in the past few days and managed to look both defeated and yet peaceful.
At her confused look he told her.
"I will take his place." She managed to stop her mouth dropping in surprise and her stomach flopped around uncomfortably for a minute.
"Sire…"
"Why are you here?" The King asked cutting her off, circling the room with slow even footsteps. Pacing. He looking at her, but at the many knight's crests hanging on the walls.
"Doesn't Arthur have a manservant to prepare him?"
"Er…" Merlyn began awkwardly, catching the monarchs' attention. "Yes…but…It's sort of a good luck thing. I assisted him with his armour before his duel with Valiant. His manservant was injured. And since then I've prepared him for every major tournament or battle."
"I did not know my son believed in luck." Uther said ruefully.
"It's served him well. He says you can have all the skill and training in the world but anything can happen on the day."
The King chuckled.
"If I am taking his place maybe I can borrow some of his luck. Prepare me."
"Sire…"
"The grievance was mine. The fight is mine. I will use this armour. It is unlikely to make any difference."
"I will get your sword…" But the King had already reached the table and picked up the newly forged sword.
"This will be fine… More than. It is worthy of a King. It has almost perfect balance. Where did you gat this? Who made it?"
"Tom, the blacksmith. It was made specifically for Arthur. You would be better off with a sword you trusted, Sire." She tried to urge him away from the blade. The Great Dragons words heavy in her mind.
"Tom is not the royal blacksmith. I'm surprised Arthur went to him."
"No that was myself and Glyndwr." Uther looked questioning at her. "Arthur's manservant, Tom's son. We felt he needed a better sword."
Uther allowed her to fit his breast plate, watching her with an unidentifiable expression.
"You show him extraordinary loyalty." He stated, his mind flashing back to the recent past, where trembling she had knowingly drank the poison meant for his son. Because he had ordered it. He also remembered the scene in the basement with a moment's shame. And although he was certain Arthur would not have shared what occurred, he had difficulties looking his physician and old friend Gaius in the eye upon discovering the girl was his niece.
"That is my job, Sire." She told him simply, as she concentrated on securing the vambrace to his lower arm, aware of him watching her.
"Beyond the line of duty." He said solemnly, silently demanding an answer. "You have risked your life for him. More than once. Almost at the expense of your own.
"He saved mine. Not many would risk their lives for a servant. He is a good man. He will be a great King. I believe he is worth dying for."
As do i. Uther silently agreed. Pride for his son, swelling in his chest. He had already accepted his decision and likely outcome, but now there was a small measure of peace. What ever happened on the field would happen. He would go to his death knowing Arthur would live.
"Yes he is." The King straightened his shoulders, looked the girl in the eyes and surprised himself. "Look after hum. He bade her and left the room.
XxXxX
Arthur had stood shocked in the middle of his chambers long after Merlyn had run from the room. What had he done? He had gone from angry, furious to… something else.
He had hurt her. He was sure of it. She was so fragile and he had held her so tight he was sure he had left bruises on her arms. Maybe even her back, he thought, remembering pushing her into the wall.
But she hadn't fought him. Even as he fiercely berated himself for his actions, he still had the memory of her mouth surrendering under him, the fresh taste of her on his lips.
No. Pacing the room he shook himself sternly. He could not dwell on that. He had attacked her. The look on her face when he had pulled back…when she had run from the room as if hounds were chasing her…She would never trust him near her again.
His eyes fell on the open window, down on the courtyard where the dark knight waited ominously in the dark. He would admit to being scared. But he would not just accept defeat before the battle had begun. He had almost done before his duel with Valiant.
Before Merlyn had come to him, with her precious gift. She had believed in him then.
"You are the bravest man I have ever met. I've stood by and watched you conquer every fear you have ever faced… You are more than a mere warrior. You are the future King. You've proved your courage time and again. Now you must prove your wisdom."
She still believed in him now. His mind, now free from the prideful anger that had been brewing since the confrontation with his father started to focus.
She was right too. This was no ordinary knight. He was sure he had seen both Sir's Pellinor and Owain land good solid blows, yet the man required no aid, no rest or recovery. He just stood, his menacing shadow casting fear into the citadel.
He needed to speak to Gaius, or Sir Geoffrey. They would know what manner of beast he was facing. He could only hope it was not too late.
As if summoned there was a knock on the door, and the old physician walked in. A small potion bottle in his hand. Maybe it was because Arthur suddenly remembered that Gaius was Merlyn's uncle and felt embarrassed and ashamed, or maybe it was because he trusted Gaius, but he found himself taking the small potion and in the midst of asking the old man what he thought of the black knight, Arthur feel into a deep drugged sleep…
Until the clash of swords woke him. He sprang, not so elegantly out of bed, his knees buckling dangerously as he tried to make sense of the world around him.
Drugged. He had been drugged.
He remembered the potion Gaius had given him and saw red, pounding on the doors and rattling the locks…as someone fought the dark knight in his place.
XxXxXx
The sword was heavy in her hands as she waded steadily through the long grass. Even heavier were the furious words of the Great Dragon that weighed on her mind.
"You have betrayed me. You are not ready to be trusted…
The sword was born of the old magic. You have no idea of its power. In the hands of Uther, it will bring only evil."
The Great Dragon spoke of trust, yet, although he had helped her. It was clear the dragon had his own agenda. She did not trust him either, but she had, through no fault of her own broken her word.
If it hadn't been for the sword, Uther would have been killed, the wraith destroyed and Arthur would become King. But he would have lost his father though magic. How would he ever be open to magic if it continued to take so much from him?
The Great Dragon was right though. The sword could not stay in Camelot. And she had known just the place.
Take the sword far from here and place it where no mortal man can ever find it.
It took most of the night but she retrieved the sword and traveled to the forest to the Lake. Standing on the shore, she waited. Since the first time she had seen Avalon in this very spot, she would return some mornings to wait, for that split second when the rising sun, hit the surface of the water.
Although she did not know it. Merlyn was the only person who would ever see this sight without passing over into the light. The land of Avalon showed its shores briefly before closing to the light of day. At that moment she threw the sword into the disappearing scene. The blade sliced though the waves and down to the lake bed, although still in this world, it was hidden from all but the witch who had hidden it.
XxXxXx
Returning to her quarters early that morning, arms laden with ingredients she knew her uncle needed, she did not expect to walk into knight. Literally. She and her basket when flying, the roots petals showering her and they fell over her and to the ground. Not really expecting a helping hand she muttered her apologies and started to gather the fallen items. The knight seemed to stand there awkwardly for a second, then crouched down beside her and started to gather the herbs near him.
"Thank yo…" Merlyn had been expecting Sir Leon or Tomas, two of the more chivalrous knights. Instead when she looked up and her eyes met Prince Arthur's. She jerked back in surprise, landing momentarily on her bottom before spring up to her feet, embarrassed at her panic.
Arthur too had taken a step back, hands up as if to reassure her.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He said and Merlyn just nodded. Uncharacteristically tongue tied.
"I owe you an apology, I should never have forced…I didn't mean too…." Arthur sighed and rubbed his face frustrated as he searched for words.
"It happened." Merlyn suddenly found herself saying. "No one forced anyone. And it won't happen again."
Arthur blinked, startled at the coolness in her voice. She was answering all his unasked questions but the calm, emotionless tone, caused his heart to sink.
"I hurt you…" He said miserably, gesturing at her arms.
"No."
"I bet you have bruises."
"Means nothing. I bruise easily."
She could tell her manner was unsettling him and softened in the face of his discomfort.
"It can't happen again, Sire. You are a Prince, I am a servant. I think we should be more careful. And keep our distance from each other."
Arthur frowned at this but found he could not argue. He knew she was right, again.
"Please. Allow me to apologize. I don't know why it happened. I have a lot of excuses but not a solid reason. I even want to do it again..."
"Sire..!"
"I know." He cut her off quickly. "Your right. You were right last night and you're right now. I will pay more attention to your advice in the future. It is often sound." The sadness heavy in his voice.
"Apology accepted and thank you." Merlyn said graciously moving around him to continue to her chambers.
Aware that he watched her as she walked away.
A/N. As much as I loved BBC's Merlin there were a few things that really got on my nerves and one was that Arthur was sometimes painted too oblivious. I want to make my Arthur a bit more observant!
Thank You for your patience. I do intend to continue.