Summary: Uther has sent Arthur and Merlin on a dangerous quest - retrieve the Cup of Life from the Druids, make sure neither Cenred nor Morgause get their hand on it... and make it out alive. As Gwaine joins them, will the unity of Courage, Strength and Magic be enough to complete the life-threatening mission? And what about the rest of the Round Table?
Details/Disclaimer: Merlin and anything from the series belong to the BBC. So does the original episode, The Coming of Arthur (both parts) on which this and the sequel of this story is based upon.This is merely my own version of events but I recommend watching the episodes first, as most of this makes sense only after watching them.
This is the second part of the trilogy The Rise and Fall of a Queen.
Enjoy!
Tazz~
The Rise of a Queen
Chapter One: Strength's Offer
Word Count: 1502
"Which way next, Merlin?"
"Left," he replied irritably. "Why don't you just let me lead?"
This was the third time they had stopped at some form of crossroad. They had only just gotten into Cendred's kingdom, which was as far as Arthur knew the way to. It had been a long ride, with hardly any stops, and that - in combination with the multiple interruptions - had left Merlin extremely annoyed. Also, he had a small feeling that they were being watched, although he hadn't seen anything.
"Because I'm the prince, and you're the servant."
"Thought we were undercover?" Merlin growled in response. "Besides, we're probably going to die anyway. Look what happened to the patrol that came here. Dead, the lot of them! "
"Sir Leon survived," Arthur said thoughtfully.
"Right. So that gives me, what? A one in forty chance of making it?"
"Rather less, actually; there are only two of us."
"So I'm not probably going to die – I'm DEFINITELY going to die."
"Always the pessimist, Merlin. Who knows? Maybe just this once, we'll have no trouble."
Unnoticed by either of them, a group of men lay in wait in the bushes. One of them rose out of the hiding spot a little, aiming a small wooden reed pipe towards Arthur. He blew out sharply, and hit the oblivious prince in the neck. The tranquilliser took effect, and he got knocked out cold, sliding off his horse.
"Maybe you're right. But if past experiences are anything to go by-" Merlin was cut off too, as he was hit by another small dart and knocked out.
"They'll reach Strength, soon."
Merlin came to with the distinct feeling of being slapped repeatedly. His bleary eyes slowly focused and showed him the image of Arthur, surrounded by grimy men, all looking down on him.
"What was that you saying about me being a pessimist?" His head cocked with heavy sarcasm.
"Must have slipped my mind," Arthur replied shortly. He pulled Merlin upright, and didn't notice as another man approached him. When he was hit – companionably – on the shoulder, however, he immediately twisted round and took a grip on the man's arm.
"Touch me again, you die," he threatened.
"Gwaine?" Merlin asked, grinning at the sight of his friend.
"No manners, you royals." He grinned back. "Merlin, old friend, you look terrible."
"Likewise," Merlin said back, concern flickering over his face.
"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked Gwaine, who merely smiled in response.
"You know, wrong place, wrong time, wrong drink," he said airily.
"Nothing's changed there, then?" Arthur smiled too.
"That's just unfair."
"Right, where are we then?" Arthur asked, instantly becoming serious.
"The bowels of an old castle," Gwaine answered, looking upwards, toward the ceiling of the high tower they were in. "Belongs to a fella name Jarl."
"Never heard of him."
"Lovely bloke. Slave trader," he elaborated sarcastically.
"We're going to be sold as slaves?" Merlin asked, dread creeping into his voice.
Their conversation was interrupted as a heavy-set man looked down upon them from a window about halfway up the tower.
"Right, you filthy vermin: which one of you is ready to face my champion in the arena? No volunteers?" He sneered down at them all. "Well, I shall have to choose one of you toerags myself, then...
"Let me see... How about... you?" He lifted his hand to point at Merlin, who looked around him, slightly confused.
"Me?"
"Death or glory, boy; you should be honoured."
Merlin looked back at Arthur and Gwaine in confusion.
"Who is so called champion? Can he crush nothing but weaklings like this?" Arthur announced, confident, or at least seeming so.
"You think you could offer a better contest?" the man asked him curiously.
"I guarantee it," Arthur replied, stepping forward.
"Arthur, no."
But the man who had picked Merlin seemed to accept Arthur's offer. "Very well. But if you lose... I'll feed your little friend to the crows, piece by stinking piece." Arthur looked at Merlin, who looked back. Neither were sure what to say.
"Are you ready, my champion?" He looked away, sure of the answer, bored from hearing it so many times.
"I am," Gwaine answered in a solemn voice. Both Arthur and Merlin turned to him in shock. He smiled back apologetically.
Raucous cheering filled the 'arena' which was really just a small hall with people crowding around the edges, desperate for blood to be spilled.
"Gentleman." The same man from before – Jarl - called out to the two in the make-shift ring. "The rules are simple – one man lives and one man dies." The cheers, which had stopped when he had began to talk, started up again, louder than before, but they ceased once again as Jarl began to talk.
"If you cannot, or will not finish off your opponent..." he paused for effect. "I'll kill you both." Merlin watched on, jostled by the crowd, but unable to take his eyes off the pair. Jarl threw them both swords, before announcing:
"Let battle commence." Arthur looked over at Gwaine, exasperated, but they knew what they had to do. They both picked up their respective swords, and then Gwaine unleashed a barrage of moves that could only leave Arthur to parry.
"Take it easy, will you?" he said at the nearest opportunity.
"Well it's gotta look real, hasn't it?" Arthur was sure he could hear humour in the other man's voice.
They were both thrown away from each other from the pressure, but both were pushed back into the ring by the crowd.
"Fine, if it's real you want..." Arthur let his sword speak for him and started his own attack. Once again they were locked, but this time Gwaine manoeuvred both swords out of their grasps, and pushed them both down onto the floor. They each had a grip on the other's neck and face, and the crowd closed over them threateningly, apart from Merlin, who was being held back.
"So far, so good. What happens next?" Gwaine said through his teeth.
"Er... there was no next," Arthur answered.
Jarl pushed through the crowd, shouting: "Finish him!"
Neither knew what to do, and Jarl was looking on, beginning to glare. Merlin saw the opportunity and took it.
"Forbearne aeltaewlice," he hissed. A torch, previously lit, flared up, setting the overhead hangings on fire, spreading through the entire room. The frenzied crowd started yelling, leaving the room, trying to escape the blaze. Arthur and Gwaine both got up, ready to leave, thanking their lucky stars for the distraction. At least Gwaine was; Arthur was pretty sure Merlin, who was at the exit waiting for them, had something to do with it.
Finally, they both got over to him, fortunately still carrying their swords, and together, they left the building.
The three took refuge in the nearby woods, gasping heavily.
"Now, that's somewhere I'll not be in a hurry to see again," Gwaine said, already grinning.
"Best stay out of trouble then," Arthur advised.
"I could say the same to you."
"You could, but I wouldn't have any idea what you were talking about."
"C'mon. You must've done something to end up in a hole like that." Arthur looked at him, as though judging how much he could tell him.
"Actually, we were on a quest," he informed Gwaine.
"We're looking for the Cup of Life.," Merlin added unhesitatingly.
Arthur turned to glare at him, before cuffing him around the head.
"What?" Merlin asked indignantly.
"What part of the word 'secret' did you not understand?"
"It's... Gwaine," Merlin protested, as if the answer was obvious.
"Gentleman. Gentleman," Gwaine interrupted, trying to get their attention. Arthur turned to look at him. "It seems – whatever it is you're after – you could use a little help."
"Courage, Strength and Magic have finally reunited. They've left for the Druids."
"And the others?"
"Duty and Loyalty are in their places at Camelot. Honour is two days ride away from the others, Integrity one more." Grettir turned to Kilgharrah, who was sitting down again, conserving his strength for the battle ahead, where Dragonlord and Dragon would once again ride the skies and reign justice throughout the world of magic.
"You'll have to leave soon."
"Yes, I will," Kilgharrah mused to himself. He looked at Grettir, who looked upset at the talk of leaving. "Thank you for conveying the present situation to me. I hope you do as well with the others depending on your help. And I know you are sorrowed at the necessity of my departure, but if all goes well, we will see each other again soon, in a land where magical beings like you and I will once again receive the respect we once had." With those dramatic words he gracefully lifted himself into the air.
"Fly well, and remember: Emrys is counting on you," the dwarf shouted to make himself heard over the wing beats.
The Great Dragon chuckled. "He always is... Balinor would have been proud," he muttered to himself.
So, there's another episode thing – there are a lot of scenes I couldn't be bothered to write xD
Review, please :3