The Dragon's Call - Part 1
'No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny. He cannot glimpse his part in the great story that is about to unfold. Like everyone, he must live and learn. And so it will be for the young warlock arriving at the gates of Camelot. The one who must find aid and companionship in one mighty sorceress. A boy that will, in time, father the legend. His name; Merlin.'
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Estelle crept through the dense wilderness with slow, precise movements - so as not to startle the creatures that inhabited the forest - and breathed in deeply through her nose.
It was early morning. The ground and leaves were damp with dew, the sunlight flashing through the gaps of the trees, illuminating the way forward.
Estelle enjoyed this. She liked the seemingly perpetual peacefulness that engulfed the forest, the only sounds being the soft twitters of the birds and the skittering of paws on rough terrain. She found it so much more appealing than the everlasting chatter of the townspeople in Camelot. No matter how much she adored the kingdom, she would always prefer the serenity of nature.
The redhead glanced up towards the canopy of the forest trees, watching as the leaves rustled with life. She pulled her fur coat closer to her body to protect herself from the bitter chill that permeated the air, breath fanning out in front of her as she walked.
She frequently explored the wildlife that surrounded Camelot, wanting relief from the stresses of living in the castle. Of course, she knew that there were so many people who had it much worse than herself - nevertheless, she liked the solace that the forests gave her.
Swiftly leaping over a fallen log, she idly wondered how long she had been venturing in the woods for, knowing that Arthur would have a fit if he knew that she was not at the castle. Not because he was worried about her safety. Oh no. He would be more annoyed that she hadn't invited him along. Estelle chuckled fondly as she recalled his love for hunting in the forests.
Estelle, herself, wasn't exactly opposed to hunting; animals were an important source of nourishment - however, she wasn't overly-exuberant at killing the woodland creatures for sport and not necessity. If she wanted sport, she would just partake in weapons training, hopefully beating some poor knight in the process.
She ducked a low-hanging branch, halting in her tracks when she heard a deep growl. Still crouching, she scanned the surrounding trees, searching for the source of the sound. She steadied her breathing, telling herself to stay calm. Panicking wouldn't help the situation.
Another growl resounded throughout the forest, noticeably closer than the first. Estelle placed a hand over her belt, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of her sword. Her hair started to obscure her vision and she paused before quickly brushing the strands from her face.
She took a step forward, being careful not to tread on any branches or leaves that might give herself away. Another step. And another one. Nothing made itself known to her, and the forest resumed its usual silence.
She decided that it was time for her to bid the forest adieu, remaining wary of its inhabitants. She turned to face the way she came and froze, hand tightening on the sword.
Before her, stood a large, coal-black creature - one she had only heard about in myth. It was about twice her height and resembled a wild dog. If dogs had three heads. Yes, three, ferocious dog heads were snarling at her, frothing at their mouths. Estelle had to double-take when she noticed the snake tail that was wagging sporadically behind the creature.
She slowly unsheathed her weapon, stepping backwards cautiously, never breaking eye contact with the creature. The animal, however, had other ideas. It lunged forward, running towards the redhead, roaring menacingly.
Estelle braced herself, preparing for the creature's attack. When the animal was close enough, leaping forward with its claws outstretched, she swiftly rolled underneath the creature, barely skimming its underbelly.
She spun out of the roll, turning to face the supposed myth as it regained its bearings from her sudden manoeuvre. Its snake tail quivered violently in - what she imagined was - anger.
The creature turned towards her. A wide, jagged gash was present on the monster's left head - starting from the forehead, across the right eye and ending at its jaw. In a moment of luck, though she would argue skill, she had managed to wound it.
A deep rumble vibrated through the monster's chest, the ears on the central head twitching in anticipation. Estelle brandished her sword more clearly, allowing the animal to notice the viscous blood on her weapon.
The large, three-headed dog eyed the sword with contempt, baring its dagger-like teeth at her. And, to the redhead's immense surprise, it backed away. Its - now five - eyes bored into her figure, as if promising retribution.
And, in a matter of seconds, she was alone once more.
Well, she thought in relief, able to breathe clearly again, I think I've earned the day to myself. Then she laughed, knowing Uther would never let her shirk her duties just because of a small attack. Though there was nothing small about that monster.
As she made her way back to the familiar kingdom, she reminded herself to ask Gaius about the monster. But for now, the only thing she could think of was going back to sleep.
Merlin gazed around in awe as he strolled through the busy streets of Camelot, smiling fondly at the young children who ran around, screeching with boisterous laughter. The people of the great kingdom seemed to all be in a rush, chattering madly to their companions as they carried heavy baskets of clothes and pales of water, making the young warlock wonder what was causing such a ruckus. He followed the citizens down the cobblestone path that led to the heart of the kingdom, his eyes wide and curious.
He was filled with excitement at the thought of a new adventure. Back in Ealdor, the people had been wary of him. The village was small enough that they noticed how different he was, and most of them were sure to stay away from him. Merlin had made a few close friends, but the village never failed to make him feel like an outsider. So he and his mother decided that he would go and stay with his uncle Gaius, who happened to be the court physician in Camelot.
Continuing his trek amongst the crowd, he noticed the entrance to the courtyard of the main castle body of Camelot. Guards stood on a balcony above the crowd, sounding a symphony of bugles. A large gathering of people were huddled around, gasping and pointing towards the man who stood on a wooden platform. Frowning softly, Merlin stepped forward to find out what was happening. His lips parted in shock as he realised the situation.
The man was forced to his knees before a thick, oak block, his features distorted by tears.
An older man, dressed in expensive finery - who Merlin would guess to be the renowned King Uther - came to stand before the crowd, atop a balcony. The people gazed up at the King with expressions of admiration and awe, though Merlin could feel the fear that permeated the air. The people weren't stupid; they knew of the King's reputation… they lived in his dynasty.
Merlin recalled the warnings of his mother. He knew that public executions in Camelot were mainly reserved for magic users and traitors, and paled at the revelation.
His eyes scanned the crowd before he caught sight of one particular woman. She was wearing a cloak with the hood up and, though partially obscured, the warlock could see her face. Her features held the expression of pure, unadulterated horror - causing Merlin to feel strangely relieved at the fact that someone found this as morally wrong as he did.
"Let this serve as a lesson to all… This man, Thomas James Collins, is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic," the King began in a grim tone. "And pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass."
Uther raised an arm in signal for the executioner to lift his axe and, with unrepentant finality, silently ordered the man's death with a downward swipe of his hand.
The audience gasped as Thomas was swiftly beheaded. King Uther continued to address the crowd with his speech.
"When I came to this land, this kingdom was mired in chaos, but with the people's help, magic was driven from this realm. So I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured and Camelot freed from the evil of sorcery." Uther smiled at the people beneath. "Let the celebrations begin!"
It was then that an elderly woman burst through the crowd, wailing in anguish. "There is only one evil in this land, and it is not magic! It is you! With your hatred and your ignorance!" She cried out, her voice breaking as she yelled. "You… took my son! And I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth… a son for a son."
Uther recognised the thinly-veiled threat to his only heir.
"Seize her!" He commanded the guards.
As the armed men approached her, the old woman swiftly chanted a spell in a raspy voice, and disappeared in a whirlwind of smoke before any of the guards could touch her.
Merlin was still reeling and mentally shuddered at the thought of his magic being discovered. His eyes then searched the dispersing crowd, subconsciously looking for the woman in the cloak. Disappointment flooded through him when he couldn't see her, and he decided to give up and find his uncle.
As he walked, he didn't notice the feminine figure watching him with a curious expression, from behind a pillar.
Estelle strode down the castle's vast network of corridors, her cloak billowing out behind her. The hood was now down, releasing her auburn waves and she was absentmindedly glad that she had decided to wear trousers instead of a dress. Tripping over her skirts would not be helpful in her haste.
Her train of thought kept travelling back to the man with the black hair. She had never seen him in Camelot before, though she supposed it was impossible to know everyone in the kingdom. He seemed to be around the same age as her and was quite tall. He held an amazed sparkle in his eyes that spoke of someone from a smaller village. And when he met her gaze in the courtyard, something stirred inside of her, but she couldn't pinpoint what. After all, she didn't know the man.
Though, maybe she did. He felt familiar to her and she briefly wondered if she had met him before - perhaps while travelling between kingdoms, she couldn't say for sure. She sighed. Familiar or not, she could tell that there was something special about him. Powerful almost. It vibrated off of his very being, demanding to be released. To be admired. And that was dangerous in Camelot.
She stopped next to a set of double-doors, smiling at the guards who were posted outside of it. She gestured for them to open the doors and thanked them when they let her in.
Uther was sitting at the end of a long table inside of the Council Chambers, reading through the latest taxes that he had put in place. Estelle walked towards the table, edging closer to him until he looked up at her.
"Estelle. How are you, my dear?" He asked, smiling sincerely at her.
"I'm fine, thank you, My Lord." She refrained from revealing the bitterness she felt for him at that moment. The expressions of both Thomas Collins and his mother would be forever ingrained into her memory. As well as all the other poor, innocent souls who'd been wrongfully executed under his rule.
She wrung her hands together, now thinking about the old woman - who was grieving but who also had sworn revenge on Uther. More specifically, threatening his son for his misdeeds.
"You look troubled," the king observed, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of her veiled distress.
"Are you sure it is wise to be having the celebrations tonight? Arthur was threatened. Shouldn't we be on guard for any attempt on his life?" She questioned him, worried about her friend and the King's only son.
Uther looked at her as if she had grown a second head and laughed off her concern, much to her annoyance.
"Whilst I admire your concern for Arthur, you should know that he is more than safe inside of Camelot's walls," he soothed, wordlessly handing over the taxes to a Lord of the court, who looked upon the conversation with interest. Uther seemed to be steadfastly ignoring the irritated looks the woman sent him at his reply.
Estelle sighed. "Perhaps you should be taking this more seriously," she murmured, though it was loud enough for the king to hear.
He braced his hands on the table and stood up sharply, giving her a warning expression. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Know that I care about Arthur's safety more than my own. I encourage you to remember who you are talking to." Uther stalked past her and out of the room with a flourish.
Estelle shook her head in exasperation and muttered to herself. "Stubborn, old fool."
The young redhead forced out any and all thoughts of the possibility of Arthur's impending demise, and endeavoured to keep a particularly close eye on him over the next few days.
She gave a farewell smile to the remaining Lords, and traipsed out of the chambers. She wandered around aimlessly, almost irritated with the fact that she could never get lost inside the castle. Estelle had learnt to recognise every corner and crevice of the large structure, which usually came in handy when she needed to run away from some angry maids. Not so much when she was bored, however.
As she walked, she realised that she was heading towards Gauis' chambers and smiled happily at the thought of her old friend and mentor. He had practically raised her, along with Uther, and taught her his healing tricks. She sighed nostalgically at the memory of him first teaching her the basics of anatomy. Of course, she quickly had fallen asleep, not being able to catch on to the scientific jargon that came so easily to Gaius. Over the course of her life, she had managed to pick up on what the physician taught her and, in turn, she helped him with several of his patients.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the person who turned the corner she was walking towards and suddenly crashed into said person. A pair of hands held her arms in place to keep her from falling.
Embarrassed at her lack of concentration, she looked up with the intent of apologising to the poor person and froze.
A young boy with midnight black hair ran through a dense patch of forest, a look of sadness on his face. Tears stung his eyes and threatened to fall as he continued to trek, making his already-startling blue eyes stand out more.
He stopped inside of a small clearing, tension practically rolling off of his shoulders as he sighed in relief. He looked as if the weight of the world rested on his tiny shoulders.
The clearing was beautiful. Wildflowers bloomed on the outskirts of the meadow, softly swaying in the light breeze. Sunlight streamed through the tops of the trees, filling the area with warmth. It was as if that one particular place of beauty remained untouched from the cruelties of the earth.
The boy walked towards the middle of the meadow, running his hands along the tall grass that reached his knees. He paused in the centre of the clearing. Sitting down next to some dandelions, he watched the fluffy, white plants carefully.
His eyes blazed gold and the dandelion seeds started to rise in the air, twisting and turning as they floated. The seeds swirled around into the shape of a dragon and the young boy silently marvelled at the sight.
He could have been there for minutes or hours. Time didn't seem to touch the area as he sat in relaxed silence.
A short-lived smile came across his face before it was quenched with a forlorn sigh. His eyes downcast, he picked himself back up and walked back through the forest towards his home.
Estelle was startled out of the vision with a gasp so quiet that it was almost inaudible. She shook herself out of her thoughts and focused her gaze back onto the person before her.
The young man, whom she had seen earlier at the execution, stood in front of her with a sheepish expression etched onto his face - though she could see his curiosity was piqued at her sudden pause. Estelle silently admonished herself for the slip-up and smiled in an attempt to cover up her misstep.
Remembering her well-taught manners, she chuckled in embarrassment. "Oh! Forgive me! I was in my own little world and didn't notice you there." The young man looked bewildered by her words and she smiled just a little bit wider.
He seemed rushed to reassure her. "No!- no, it's fine… I wasn't paying much attention either."
She gave him a bright smile in return, ignoring the turning of her stomach when he laughed. Estelle had caught a brief glimpse of the man earlier but, now that he was up close, she admired the sharp definition of his high cheekbones and the sheepish smile that adorned his lips.
As if suddenly realising that he was still holding onto her arms, he dropped them quickly, the way one might do if they were burned.
Time seemed to freeze as they surveyed the other. Estelle gazed in wonder at his beautiful, cerulean eyes before clearing her throat. She hurriedly averted her gaze from his so he didn't catch on that she was staring.
The young man, however, had yet to look away from her - and Estelle willed herself to stand proud and tall beneath his stare. She thought she saw something flicker across his face; an expression almost like shock, but she couldn't place her finger on it.
"You're not from around here, are you?" She queried, intrigued by his appearance within the castle. While she had recognised him from the execution, she was sure she hadn't seen him at all before then.
He gave her a look that resembled a kicked puppy, and offered an awkward smile. "Is it that obvious?"
Estelle laughed, endeared by his sheepishness. "Only to me."
The raven-haired man offered a hand out to her. "I'm Merlin," he introduced himself. The feeling of familiarity coursed through her again at the sound of his name. Where had she heard that before?
She gently took his hand with hers in greeting, dispelling the thought. "Estelle."
He smiled again, lightly releasing her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Estelle. Uh– sorry, but do you happen to know where the court physician's chambers are?" He asked, tentatively, as if she thought he was rude to ask.
"Gaius? Of course. Follow me," she told him brightly.
She led the way down a few corridors and up a set of stairs, Merlin following close behind her. They chattered mindlessly as they went and Estelle found out that Merlin was from a small village called Ealdor and had, until recently, stayed with his mother.
She had briefly shared a few tidbits of information about her own life; nothing too incriminating, but - for some reason - she couldn't help but want to trust him. He had a warm and friendly demeanour, and the words fell from her lips before she even registered what she was saying. So, she ended up telling him about the kingdom she grew up in, and how she'd lived with her father and brother before moving to Camelot. Though, when she made no mention of her mother, Estelle noticed how he perked up in intrigue.
To her relief, he didn't feel the need to press her on the matter, just as she avoided asking about his father. It seemed as though a mutual accord had been struck between them.
Estelle paused in front of Gaius' chambers and smiled at Merlin. "Here we are. I'll leave you to it. If you ever need anything, just ask Gaius or myself. I'll always be around the castle somewhere."
Merlin thanked Estelle gratefully, and she gave him one last sweet smile before turning to leave. She walked to the end of the corridor and, as she made to turn the corner, shot one last look at Merlin. He was still standing before Gaius' door, seeming to take a deep breath.
Estelle sighed and finally turned the corner.
After having shown Merlin to Gaius' quarters, Estelle skipped down through the castle, greeting people as she passed them. Since her plans of seeing her favourite physician had changed, she decided to try and find Arthur - who was probably on the training grounds. The weight of the threat to his life still hung heavily on her mind and she knew she'd feel better seeing him herself.
Exiting the castle, she walked down towards the fields where the prince undoubtedly was, beating all of those brave enough to challenge him. The sun was beginning its downward descent, illuminating the grounds in a gorgeous kaleidoscope of yellows, burnt umber and scarlet, the fiery sky nearing its conclusion.
She caught a glimpse of said prince duelling against a fellow knight, who Estelle soon recognised to be Sir Leon. She smiled at the sight, mentally betting on Arthur, despite Leon's skill with a blade.
Sir Leon swung out at the prince, who deflected the blow easily and counteracted with his own.
The two continued to make moves and counter-moves until Arthur caught his opponent off balance, sending him tumbling to the ground, and placed his sword against Leon's chest.
They both laughed and Arthur held an arm out to help up his friend and comrade.
The prince turned and addressed the other training knights. "Who's next?"
Before any of the men could answer, Estelle strode forward with a spring in her step, not having sparred in a while. "Me," she cheerfully called out.
The knights all spun around to see who had spoken, seeing the redheaded woman. A few of the newer knights laughed harshly, obviously thinking that she couldn't harm a fly, whilst others chuckled fondly. Arthur and Leon, however, just smiled in amusement, having known her long enough to realise that she was more skilled than some of the knights were, being one of the few people able to beat Arthur in a fight. Though he claimed it was because he was afraid to hurt her.
"Stella," the prince greeted, pulling her into a warm embrace once she was close enough.
"Art," she replied, laughing when he grumbled at the childhood nickname.
Estelle then pulled away and drew Leon into a tight hug as well, grinning happily. "Lee."
The two men chuckled affectionately at the young woman, which soon turned into scowls when they noticed the looks of contempt she was getting from several of the knights.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, Stella?" Arthur asked her.
"Isn't it obvious?" Estelle retorted, picking up a sword from nearby, testing the balance of the weapon before deeming it satisfactory. "I want to spar. It's been too long."
"Are you sure? Wouldn't want you to get all muddy, would we?" He teased her, knowing it would agitate her.
She rolled her eyes, annoyed at the insinuation. Whilst she knew how to gossip about handsome men and enjoyed embroidery, she hated the stereotype that that was all she could do. She knew how to defend herself - and others, for that matter - and she also knew how the pointy end of a sword works. And she would show those ignorant knights how if they persisted.
"Dirt doesn't bother me, Arthur. I'd be more worried about me ruining that pretty face of yours," she jested back, grinning when the prince picked up his own sword.
"So you think my face is pretty? I knew you couldn't resist me."
Estelle just laughed at her friend. "Of course. I've been harbouring an undying love for you the second I laid eyes on you," she deadpanned with mirth.
Well, it was true. She did hold an undying love for the prince, but it was more of a brotherly love than a romantic one. He, along with Leon, had been the first friends that she had made when she had first arrived in Camelot. He had been there for her through thick and thin, and she'd done the same for him.
They both laughed at each other, getting into their defensive positions, pausing to see who would attack first.
Estelle waited, knowing that Arthur's patience - or rather, lack of it - would cause him to be the one to make the first move.
And, of course, being an intuitive young woman, she was right. Arthur lurched forward at an impressive speed and swung out at her, not needing to worry about holding back. She was more than capable of defending herself.
Estelle brought up her sword, absorbing the blunt force of his swing, his weapon clashing against hers harshly. When she was younger, the pure strength of his blows had forced her to stumble back a few paces, but now she knew how to position her feet just so that she could hold her ground. She spun around and retaliated with her own strike, Arthur skilfully parrying the attack.
The two started circling each other, scrutinising the other for any weaknesses that could be exploited. Estelle knew that Arthur favoured his right side - noticing that he shifted his weight to his right rather than left.
She lunged forward, feigning a step to the left, before altering her course and attacking with a downward diagonal swing. Arthur swiftly ducked under the blade and stabbed his sword in the direction of her stomach. Estelle spun away from the blow, adjusting her grip on the weapon.
They continued to attack one another, both getting more tired as the battle drew longer. To any onlooker, the scene would have reminded them of an odd sort of dance. The way the two moved in synchronisation, timing each swing and block carefully.
"Getting tired, princess?" Arthur taunted her, breathlessly.
Estelle laughed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "Not one bit. Can't say the same for you, though."
The prince just responded with a swing towards her neck. Estelle bent back to avoid the blow and swivelled her wrist, rotating her blade around.
After an immeasurable amount of time, Arthur managed to catch the redhead off-guard and sent her to the floor. She quickly kicked his legs out from under him and rolled over to pin him to the ground, her sword blade across his throat. Arthur reached out for his own weapon, sighing when he saw that she had thrown it away from him.
"Well, look at this," Estelle began mockingly. "It appears I have won."
The prince shifted from underneath her, grumbling. "Yeah, yeah, yeah… now get off of me."
The woman retracted her sword from his neck and scowled playfully. "Now, now. No need to be a sore loser."
Without waiting for a reply, she rolled off of him and jumped up to her feet, holding a hand out to Arthur - which he accepted, gratefully - and hauled him up. She handed out her sword, which Arthur took with a roll of his eyes.
"Great spar, Artie," she praised, patting him on the chest with a grin before skipping past him and calling out over her shoulder. "We should do it again sometime."
Arthur just stood next to Leon, both of them chuckling in amusement as they watched her leave. They then turned back to the knights to resume training as the sky started to turn a shade of burnt umber and the sun fell below the castle's walls.
A/N: So... it's been a couple of years... And I'll be surprised if any of you are still here! But my love for all things Merlin and, especially, this story has not dwindled. Now, I would hope that I've gotten a bit better at writing since I started this fic, and I do have plans to continue this! My Master's degree has been kicking my ass, but I will be resuming this on a semi-regular basis... please bear with me haha! But I hope you've enjoyed this chapter
I did update the prologue a bit - nothing major in terms of plot, but just added a few grammatical corrections and a bit more description here and there.
