Disclaimer: I'm sorry, I forgot this in the first chapter. I don't own Merlin, obviously. And the story takes place in a world where Magic is accepted and Arthur is King, as you've discovered previously. I welcome comments and critiques, but if you don't like my story - and absolutely need to make it known - at least have the decency to tell me why and do it in a pleasant way, please.
Also, I don't update in a scheduled way. When I'm finished a chapter, I'll post it. And there are chances that I won't finish the story... Sorry!
Chapter 1
"Missed me, again!" my brother's playful voice ribbed.
I gritted my teeth. Although I loved him with all my heart, Kevin had a way of getting under my skin in a way no one else managed. I was tired, soaked through with sweat, my hair sticking to my scalp and my back.
"Whose brilliant idea was it to practice in this kind of weather?" I grumbled under my breath. I finally gave up on breaking through my brother's defenses and stepped back, my shoulders heaving in time with my pants.
"Kat?" Kevin asked, his voice soft with concern.
I waved his concern away distractedly. "I'm fine," I said, my voice not yet recovered from our sparing match.
"You know you shouldn't push yourself so much. In fact, you shouldn't even be fighting, least of all with a sword!" Kevin chastised once again.
This conversation was recurrent and happened almost every other day. "Why? Because I'm a girl, you think I shouldn't be allowed to defend my honour and my life myself?"
Kevin heaved a sigh. "You know that's not the reason. I'd much prefer to be sparing against one of the knights than against you. You're the only one who can actually beat me from time to time!"
I sighed, picked up my sword and started walking back to the clearing where we were camping, my brother falling into step beside me. I had been born with a rare condition. My heart was smaller than it should be, which made it harder to go around doing things normally. A few years ago, I had an accident because of my condition, and now my every move was monitored despite the court physician saying that it shouldn't happen again.
"Fighting again, I see," an amused voice called out as we broke out of the cover of the trees. My brother immediately jumped at the occasion to embarrass me and started recounting our sparing match. Obviously, he twisted some details to his advantage, or should I say to my disadvantage.
I huffed and rolled my eyes more than a few times as I set about gathering my things for a quick run down the river. Of course, my father refused to send me out alone, so a guard followed me, giving me his back so that I could wash out some of the grime decorating my skin.
I had just returned to the clearing when a group of four knights rode in, wearing bright red cloaks adorned with a golden dragon. Our Camelot escort had finally arrived. Not that we actually needed an escort. But, we were Royalty, and long standing allies of Camelot.
I really didn't understand why my father insisted I be present during these diplomatic meetings. Kevin was Heir to the throne, and I was not the least bit envious. I didn't want all the obligations that came with the title. I preferred a much simpler way of live. Whilst my brother and father thrived on the throne. Not that they were tyrants in any way. The people love my father and already have a soft spot for my brother!
The four knights swung down from their mounts and bowed low to the King of Barcen.
The eldest knight took a respectful step closer, his hair a mane of reddish blond streaks. "Sire, I am Sir Leon, here to escort you to Camelot. I hope your journey so far has been pleasant?"
My father nodded, looking regal even in his travelling clothes. A King within commoners. Which is ironic, since it was exactly what King Stephan was.
"We've spent enough time here," the King said simply, and that was everyone's cue to start packing up camp and getting the horses ready for the trip.
As I walked by one of the horses of Camelot's knights, a chestnut coloured mare blew a raspberry at me. I laughed and reached up to stroke her velvety nose. The mare then lowered her head and nosed at my pockets. Before I could react, a knight, presumably the horse's rider, strolled up and stood on my left.
"You wouldn't happen to have an apple in your pockets, would you?" the roguishly handsome man asked, his eyes twinkling merrily.
I struggled not to fidget under the deep, beautiful cocoa gaze. "No," I finally answered. "I'm afraid I had a craving earlier this morning."
The knight chuckled heartily. "Crina has quite a fondness for apples," the man explained, laughter dancing in his eyes.
This man was brash, energetic, mischievous and had a liking for fruit. That much I could already tell. He was also charming and charismatic. So it was no wonder his horse had picked up on some of her rider's habits and personality quirks. As far as I could tell, King Arthur surrounded himself with a good knights, and great people.
"Gwaine," a third voice interjected before the long haired knight could add something else, "are you tormenting King Stephan's daughter with your tavern stories already?"
I laughed at the mock outraged look on Gwaine's face. He looked ready to answer back, but my father had already settled on his horse and looked impatient to get moving. I shrugged at my father's eloquent look and hurried to my horse.
The ride to Camelot went by fast. The atmosphere was relaxed and everyone got along fine. When we finally rode through the gates of King Arthur's kingdom, I could feel the awed look on my face. My father's Kingdom was rich, but nothing matched the splendor of Camelot.
I'd heard many stories about King Arthur and his father before him. I counted myself lucky to have never come face to face with Uther Pendragon. However, Arthur was rumoured to be nothing like his father. He was just, fair and his people loved him. The fact that he had legalised Magic again made me instantly like the new King. In Barcen, Magic had free reign. In fact, my mother had Druid ancestors. Condemning Magic would be the equivalent of murdering the King's wife.
And then, he stood before us, the crown resting proudly upon his head of shockingly blond hair. King Arthur welcomed us with warmth, his smile open and his eyes honest. At his side stood a dark haired man. Merlin, I guessed. It was said that the King of Camelot was rarely seen without his servant, now a known Warlock, at his side. To me it showed the true depth of the King's character. He was a good man, not burdened by embarrassment and disregard for the lower class of his Kingdom.
