The next morning, Merlin awoke peacefully, and was somewhat surprised. "I would have thought that you would have given me some more information now that I know sort-of what's going on here," he muttered to no one in particular. He rubbed his eyes wearily, wishing that he could close them again and forget the day ahead. Staying up into the early hours of the morning reading Gaius's magic book had been a serious mistake.
Forgoing a shower, Merlin threw on a clean shirt and stumbled out to breakfast. Today Celeste had actually decided to show up, looking decidedly bad-tempered, and because of this, Gaius and Gwen were being silent except for requesting that the other please pass the jam, staring at their plates. Merlin helped himself slowly to a piece of toast and his usual porridge, sitting down heavily.
"Are you alright, Merlin?" Gwen asked, noticing the shadowy bags under Merlin's eyes. "You look really tired."
"I'm fine," replied Merlin, giving her a small smile.
"Oh, by all means, don't worry about asking me how I'm doing this morning. I don't matter. I'm just the idiot spending hours on end trying to get you two sponsors who could maybe keep you incompetents alive!" Celeste exclaimed.
She stormed out of the room, taking a large bottle of vodka with her. Gaius, Gwen and Merlin looked at eachother. "Touchy," muttered Merlin, and all three burst out laughing.
"I don't think we'll be seeing her for a while," added Gwen, glancing meaningfully at the missing container of liquor.
Gaius shook his head. "Celeste is a bit… dramatic… at times. Don't worry. I have already found you several sponsors without any help from her. She resents the fact that she got assigned to one of the outer districts that doesn't get a lot of fame or recognition. It's not you personally. She's like this every year."
The elevator dinged, and Elyan stepped out hesitantly. "Umm… hello. Ready for training?"
Gwen and Merlin jumped up. "Yep! Bye Gaius!"
On the ride down, Elyan studiously avoided bringing up yesterday's incident, blathering about the rest of the things he had learned the afternoon before at training. Gwen joined in, and Merlin listened contentedly, dreading reaching the bottom floor.
They arrived too soon for his liking, and he took a deep breath before stepping out into the Training Center. Many tributes had already arrived and begun their training, and the three quickly joined them. Merlin scanned the room for somewhere he could be as unobtrusive as possible and hopefully avoid Arthur. He settled on the crossbow station, which was located around a slight corner in the back of the room. Neither the station nor the hiding spot proved fruitful, as he was mediocre at best with the bow and Arthur arrived twenty minutes later. He approached Merlin's station without any difficulty, and soon another crowd had gathered, hoping for another showdown like yesterday's.
"How's your knee-walking coming along?" Arthur sneered. Merlin resolved to ignore him, and concentrated on shooting another bolt at the target. When Arthur didn't show any signs of leaving, Merlin sighed and turned to try another station.
"Aww, don't run away!"
Seething, Merlin stopped. "From you?" He asked, putting as much sarcasm and venom in his reply as possible.
Arthur sighed in mock relief. "Thank god! I thought you were deaf as well as dumb."
"Look, I've told you you're an ass," Merlin retorted easily, turning to face him. He was done hiding from this prat, and if people thought his destiny was intertwined with this moron's, then they had a thing coming. "I just didn't realize you were a royal one. Oh, what are you going to do? Get your Daddy and your big, mean friends to protect you?"
Arthur laughed. "I could take you apart with one blow."
"I could take you apart with less than that," Merlin replied coolly.
"Are you sure?"
One of the onlooking tributes in the crowd yelled, "Come on then, fight!"
Arthur bent down, digging in the box of weapons and emerging with two maces. Merlin blanched. Arthur easily tossed one of them to the other boy, who fumbled with the spiked ball and dropped it on the floor, narrowly missing his foot. Several tributes snickered openly as he picked it up and Arthur swung his mace overhead as if it were no more than a length of lightweight cord. Merlin gulped, wondering not for the first time what he had gotten himself into. He twirled the chained ball experimentally, almost braining himself.
Catcalls rang out, and someone exclaimed, "That a way!"
Arthur dropped into a combat stance. "Come on, then. I'm warning you, I've been trained to kill since birth."
"Wow," replied Merlin, every syllable dripping with sarcasm. "And how long have you been training to be a prat?"
Arthur snorted. "You can't talk to me like that."
"I'm sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?"
Merlin gave a mock bow, and Arthur gave a fake grin, perturbed by Merlin's bravado. "Come on then, Merlin. Come on!"
He feinted, swinging the spiked ball at Merlin's head. Merlin felt panic welling up in his throat, silently begging one of the trainers to break this up before it could go any further. The chain and ball swung closer and closer, the air whipping by Merlin's face as he backed up desperately. His foot caught on the edge of the wrestling mat and he fell backward, grip on the mace loosening. He struggled to stand, caught in the bungee cord-fence surrounding the wrestling ring.
Arthur smirked, chuckling. "I've got you now!"
"Oh god," Merlin muttered to himself, and he cast about in a state of panic, looking for something, anything, to prevent the metal ball from coming in contact with his face. His gaze alighted on the rack of boxing gloves above them, and his eyes glowed gold. In midswing, Arthur's mace became somehow entangled in a mess of gloves, chains, and iron bars with a loud clang. With another flash of gold, Merlin moved the barrel of arrows a few centimeters to his right, and Arthur tripped. "Ow! Argh!"
Retreating as quickly as possible out of range of Arthur's weapon, Merlin came to the knot-tying station. He grinned mischievously, and with another flash, a length of rope stretched out in front of Arthur, sending him out of balance once again. "Do you want to give up?" Merlin inquired politely, cautiously swinging his mace.
"To you?" growled Arthur. He stood.
"Do you?" Merlin persisted. "Do you want to give up?"
Arthur backed up to regain his footing and tripped again over a carefully misplaced bucket. Merlin grinned in elation. He had won! But his smile faded as he noticed Atala and several other trainers forcing their way through the crowd. Arthur took advantage of Merlin's distraction to punch him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, clutching his abdomen.
"What is going on here? You know tributes are forbidden to fight against one-another!"
"The dark-haired one started it!" piped up one of Arthur's cronies.
Merlin could only groan in protest as two muscle-bound trainers took him by the arms and began to drag him to the door.
"Wait," Arthur said suddenly. "Let him go. He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one."
The trainers released Merlin with looks of mutual curiosity.
"There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it."
