Note: Aye. Sorry again for the long delay, ya'll. I honestly have no legitimate excuse this time. I've just been preoccupied with summer festivities. Enjoying a bit of much-needed fun and relaxation. And I did warn ya'll that I'm a very "spur of the moment" writer. I'm trying to make it a routine thing, honest. Anywho, I can say that this is now my longest chapter. By quite a bit. And I did have quite a bit of fun writing this. I just adore how awkward yet endearing Merlin can be, and his overall character. I hope I got him in-character, because as I write him, he's fun to write for. Anywho, let me know what ya'll think, por favor. Even if it is just the same 3 readers reviewing over and over, I do appreciate the feedback. And I love my loyal readers—and love the attention this is getting via subscriptions and favorites. So with that said… enjoy! =)
Light streamed in from the unfiltered window. The cold stone flooring waged a tumultuous war against the warmth in her knees. Her body gave one great shudder. Hopefully the last of those tedious tremors. Nearly numb now. Nearly clean.
Well, nearly 'not completely filthy', anyway.
Raivierra dragged the sopping cloth down a bare thigh to that leg's knee, mopping the sweat and dirt from her skin. She dunked it back in the rickety old bucket that sat leaking beside her. Then brought it back up to her naked torso. Well… naked down to the bottoms of her shoulder blades. From there on to her hips, plaster and bandages enclosed her upper body. That damned Gaius had insisted 'precautions' for stabilization were necessary. Raivierra wrinkled her nose as if some rank smell had reached her. Sanctioned inconvenience, more like.
"Raivierra?" Merlin's voice fluttered to her from beyond the room's closed door. He always did that. Asked quietly… maybe nervously, and yet always expecting her to hear. As if her name was some sort of secret. A gentle rapping on wood.
A splash and her hand was back in the bucket, with her other lifting her hair to wash her upper back. She'd let him wait. She knew it irked him. And that was the fun of it.
"Rai, I know you're in there." She could hear the irritation mounting in his voice. "I can hear…" He hesitated "something."
She laughed aloud; acknowledging Merlin's impatience. "It's not locked." She replied in answer, referring to the door.
Interpreting that as an invitation to come in, she heard Merlin push past the door behind her, his voice noticeably calmed. "So we've got fowl and—" Much to Raivierra's amusement, the man let out a startled yell. Bordering on a yelp. The tortured floor groaned loudly beneath the uneven ridges of the door as he leapt back against it, forcing it shut. She could imagine the flush in his cheeks. The surprise in his bright eyes.
Taking what she thought to be a moment to calm himself, Merlin spoke in a slow, deliberate tone, "Rai… care to explain what you're doing?"
"Washing up." Raivierra replied casually. She brought the cloth up and soaked her neck. "What does it look like?"
"You know, most people— erm… Most people" Merlin stuttered, his tongue getting tied in all sorts of ways.
"Take a bath?" She attempted to finish his thought.
"Well yes, that too." Merlin agreed lividly. "But typically… a person is decent before inviting another into their quarters"
"Well, I do suppose that if casts turn you on, this is quite risqué" Raivierra answered cutely, sticking the tip of her tongue between her rows of teeth. Pleased with herself. This was too fun.
"I beg your pardon?" Merlin's voice cracked as his bashfulness escalated.
"You heard me." She replied casually. She rose awkwardly to her feet and crossed the room for her bloomers. "And the last I checked, these are your quarters." She called over her naked shoulder. "I'm just borrowing them."
"Good Gods, Rai!" Merlin exclaimed in a panicked, shrill voice. He abruptly turned away, fixing his attention on the now closed door and hiding his face with a spread palm.
"What's got you riled up?" Raivierra asked, pulling the undergarment up to her waist and fastening its drawstring. She turned about to face him and rolled her eyes in realization. "Oh please. It's not as if I'm propositioning you." Her words came along with an exaggerated scoff.
"Pro-proposition… you mean…?" When he turned back to look at her, his face was deep red. Adorable.
"Had a little too much to drink, Merlin?" She teased, retracing her steps back and reaching out to brush his cheek. Much like a mother wiping dirt off a child's face. "Serving girl or no, I've still got to charge you full price down at the tavern."
"Rai, you do know—there's such thing as personal space." Merlin crept around her, letting out a held breath.
Raivierra turned with him, wrinkling her brow in mock concern. "Oh yes, of course, my friend..." she generously coated her voice in sympathy. She grinned and playfully shoved him in the arm, "And as I've said before, I'm borrowing yours." She turned nimbly on her heel (well, as gracefully as she could with the damn brace on), and strode back across the room to retrieve her linen shirt. "Now be a doll and help me with this." Her request was thrown at the young man, along with the garment.
"Oh no. No no no." Merlin held his hands up in protest—unfortunately for him, in perfect receiving position for her throw. "No." He stated firmly, holding the top away from himself.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Come again?" She replied smartly, much to his annoyance.
"You're not a child, right? You've learned how to put on a shirt, haven't you?" Merlin chided, thrusting the clothing back towards her in his outstretched hands.
"No, I don't believe I have." Raivierra returned sarcastically and rolled her eyes once more, pushing it back towards him. "Don't be an ass, Merlin. If you'd cut this cursed board off, I'd be able to do it myself. But until then…"
"It's your own fault." Merlin raised a brow as he went on, "Who in their right mind jumps on a wilderin's back?"
"Hold, a moment." She frowned and tilted her head, holding her hand up. "I thought you said I was bloody brilliant"
"Yes, well. I changed my mind."
"Good, then you can change your mind about this." Having said that, Raivierra turned around, holding her arms above her head, waiting for him to slip the garment over her. "And I'll have you know, I'm the envy of every woman in all of Albion." Raivierra piped up.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Merlin open his mouth to protest again… but instead, he let out a groan of forfeit. She heard him move up behind her, fidgeting with the cloth. Finally, she felt the rough fabric slide over her hands down to her forearms, and tent over her head. "And why is that?" Merlin's tone was defeated; just humoring her now.
"Why else? I've got a damn built-in corset." Raivierra grinned Cheshire-like beneath the cloth, and she knew him to be doing the same.
Voices. A knock on the door. Pounding, more like.
"Come in!" Raivierra called out cheerfully, still struggling to get her head through the opening of the shirt.
"No!" Merlin chimed out in alarm. "No, don't come in!" His voice becoming increasingly shrill, "Just a moment!" He began tugging frantically at the bottom hem of the cheap article of clothing.
Evidently, Raivierra's invitation was the only thing their guests took into consideration. Two of Uther's royal guards shoved past the door, entered the room, and abruptly…
Stopped.
"Are we interrupting?" The taller of the duo asked, brow raised and smirk unsuccessfully suppressed.
"Clearly." Raivierra replied in an annoyed voice, left to force her head through the opening on her own—seeing how Merlin had instantly backed off.
"N-no. You can't be. Not if there's nothing to interrupt." Merlin shook his head feverously as he held his hands up defensively.
"See, what my young friend here fails to realize…" Raivierra finally managed to wiggle her head through, and jerked it towards Merlin as her nimble fingers began working the criss-cross tie on the neckline of her shirt. "Is that he's making it seem awfully suspicious."
"Right…" Merlin eyed her warily— acutely aware that she might say something else outrageous. "Well ermmm… what- what did you want?" He asked, turning his attention to the visitors.
The sturdy one with chiseled features whipped out a roll of parchment, slicing the tie to unfurl it.
Raivierra cocked a brow and let out a low whistle. Fancy. She cast a glance at Merlin, who had his head drawn back on his neck. Clearly, he was likewise impressed.
The man cleared his voice and spoke in a declarative, deep voice, "By order of Lord Uther, your presence is requested in the King's dining hall for the evening."
"I believe you may have the wrong woman." Raivierra winked knowingly at Merlin, "My presence would hardly be desired… much less, by the king." She laughed heartily at that.
Neither guard appeared amused. "There is to be a feast in your honor. A small token of thanks for saving Prince Arthur's life." The lanky one responded in a serious tone.
Raivierra let out a sharp laugh, "Oh, now you definitely have the wrong woman." Again, neither responded to her attempts at humor. She edged closer to Merlin for comfort. "Is that how it's going down in the records? Fine by me." She nudged Merlin suggestively with her elbow. Turning back to the guards, she cleared her throat and waved them off dismissively, "Truly, do tell Uther I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid I will have to most graciously decline."
"You… decline the king's invitation?" The stouter guard questioned, wide-eyed like his companion. Like Merlin as well.
"I do believe that's what I just did." Raivierra offered them a tight-lipped smile, having lost interest in this conversation.
"You can't just… refuse the King." The tall one stammered, still bewildered.
"Ah, but I didn't just. I did so graciously." She held up a finger and stated matter-of-factly.
"She's kidding!" Merlin exclaimed suddenly, clapping his hands together. "Ha! Oh what a jester, this one, eh?" He grabbed her shoulder nearest him and shook it vigorously until she flinched into submission. "She accepts. Of course she accepts. She is honored." He beamed at the guards. "And she will most definitely be there."
Raivierra narrowed her eyes viper-like at Merlin. Opening her pursed lips, she managed an obligatory, "Apparently I'm honored." to the knights, who found solace in her words.
"Excellent. Lord Uther will be most pleased." The stocky one rerolled his parchment and tucked it away in his belt. "A servant will be up shortly to deliver proper attire and…"
Yada yada yada… something something something. Raivierra groaned inwardly as the man proceeded to give her a brief lecture on etiquette. Honestly quite yawn-worthy stuff… speaking of, stifling hers was becoming quite the challenge.
"As the guest of honor, you are expected to abide by the rules of the court." The bean-stalk's voice brought her back to her senses.
"Hmm? Yes. Of course." Raivierra flashed them her most charming smile and dipped her head courteously. Jostling Merlin quite a bit. "Just one more thing, good Sirs… might I bring an escort?"
"An escort?" The pair queried in unison, making it no secret that they were shocked.
Raivierra put her hands on her hips (well, the edge of the cast) and nodded slowly. "It's proper for a lady to be accompanied by a man, isn't it?"
"O-off course. You are permitted to bring a… a guest." The stout man awkwardly stuttered. It was obvious he was astonished she could land a man. And hell, from what she'd shown him thus far, she couldn't find reason enough to be offended.
"Perfect." She strode past the two men and stood next to the door, gesturing for them to leave. "Now if you'd be so kind…"
"I'm surprised you've already made a special friend." Merlin teased, trotting over to the bed to fetch her burlap trousers. "You've been here but two weeks and already you've found romance."
"Well…" Raivierra snatched her pants from Merlin's offering hands. She rested her forearm on his shoulder and leaned against him as she pulled the sheaths over each leg. "You're sweet, and I like you well enough, but I wouldn't call our relationship romantic."
"I beg your pardon?" Merlin's question came out as a strangled choking sound.
Raivierra straightened up and looked him squarely in the eye. She spoke lowly. Dangerously. "Oh, that's right. You got me into this. It's only fair if I drag you along for the ride."
0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o
Raivierra stepped cautiously into the light of the grand dining hall. A symphony of blaringly loud trumpets announced her arrival. So much for slipping in unnoticed. It had been a while since she'd last been in such company. Women and men milling about, all done up and elegant. Good Lord, she didn't want to be one of them... but for the evening, she would be. Hell, she hadn't even shuffled into a gown and heels (that of which Guinevere had been kind enough to provide in a hideous violet shade) in years. She hesitated for a brief moment.
Considered fleeing. Then remembered. She wasn't alone.
Merlin shifted at her left side, his arm linked with hers at the elbow. He gave a gentle squeeze, attempting to ease away what trepidation they shared.
"Come now, Merlin. You've no reason to be nervous." Raivierra teased; her own voice tense. "You should be accustomed to this by now."
"Accustomed? Yeah right." Merlin gave an anxious chuckle. "I'm usually here as a manservant to the Prince, remember?"
"To the Royal Prat, you mean?" Raivierra led the way with a few tentative steps.
"One and the same." Merlin replied smartly, giving her courage. Emboldening her steps.
Oh what would she have done had Merlin not come along. An absolute Godsend.
"The lady of the hour!" Uther's announcement drew her attention, silencing the mutters amongst the attendees. "And… her escort." He spared Merlin a momentary glance, who looked away sheepishly. "It is an honor to have you with us this evening." At his words, the other attendees began taking to their seats. Leaving two empty cathedra-like chairs at the head of the buffet table. Conveniently situated next to the crown prince. Lovely.
"Oh, really… you think too much of me—I'm afraid I'd only disappoint you." Raivierra joked (well, more truth than joke) openly, eliciting a few supplementary chortles from the other guests.
"Think too much of you?" Uther's voice boomed excessively-so. "That's hardly a possibility, considering you saved the life of my son—Prince Arthur, heir to the throne." He stressed the importance of her deed. He turned in his lavishly-dressed seat to take in the faces of his guests. "And such effort warrants a great reward."
Raivierra smothered a grimace with her free hand and glanced at Merlin from the corner of her eye. The man's mouth was twitching with the effort of concealing a smug smirk.
"Please." Uther made an exaggerated gesture towards the two free seats. "Join us, good lady."
"If you insist…" Raivierra led the way to the banquet table, skirting the edge all the way to Arthur.
Much to her surprise, the young prince rose from his chair to pull out her seat. "Allow me, my lady." Arthur gave her a tight-lipped smile and dipped his head. Odd; how he hadn't outed her yet.
"What a gentleman." Raivierra held her hand over her heart in mock sincerity and took her seat, pulling the gangly Merlin down next to her.
"A toast!" Uther exclaimed. Oh hells. He was that much louder from here. "To this good woman's health!" He raised his wine-filled goblet high, with the others following suit.
"I'll drink to that." Merlin muttered, joining the toast with his fresh chalice.
Raivierra flashed a glare at Merlin. That same smirk freely rode his lips now. As the rest of her company began to delicately pick at the food on their plates, Raivierra took that as her cue to attack the savory beef morsels on her own. Beside her, she could just see Merlin doing the same.
Each bite fell apart in succulent juices once it hit her tongue, bringing her palate to climax.
She greedily swilled the fine alcohol— far richer and stronger than the mead she served at the tavern. She reached for the bunch of grapes. Nearly quivering in anticipation of their overwhelming candied flavor.
She froze. Eyes were on her. All of them, in fact. Even Merlin's. Whoops. Perhaps she's forgotten that 'etiquette'.
Her keen ears could pick up murmurs of "pig" and discrediting remarks about the peasantry. She tilted her head slightly to find Arthur staring at her in bewilderment. As if she was some sort of rabid dog. What? It's not as if she was treated to these delicacies often. Ever, actually.
"Um… excuse me." Raivierra smiled sheepishly and raised her dinner cloth to her rose-red lips.
After a moment of prolonged silence, Uther was the first to speak. "Yes… well, as I was saying, is there anything more that you could desire?" He made a sweeping motion with his hands, "I don't believe I've sufficiently thanked you as of yet."
"Well to be honest…" Raivierra calmly met Uther's expectant gaze. "I couldn't have done it without Merlin."
Merlin, who had been sipping at the burgundy liquor in his cup, inhaled sharply at her words and began sputtering. Raivierra gently patted his back until his coughing fit passed.
"Merlin?" Uther inquired in amazement. "Well, it seems I couldn't have assigned my son a better manservant, then." He let out a hearty laugh, "Well done, boy!"
Merlin wiped away his spittle and splashes of wine with his sleeve. "Th-Thank you, Sire."
Arthur cleared his throat and finally spoke his second words for the evening. "That reminds me, Merlin. I'll need my armor shined by sunrise and my sword is beginning to look dull. Best get on that."
Raivierra's brows furrowed at that. Though Merlin began to nod, Raivierra spoke up before he could truly answer, "Beg pardon?" her voice tinged with defiance.
"… What?" Arthur looked utterly confused at her challenge.
Merlin groaned quietly and began fervently chomping at the rest of his meal, "Well, it was nice while it lasted." His chewing muffled his words.
Raivierra sat erectly in her seat. Imposingly. She growled under her breath and raised her voice against Arthur—evidently not a common occurrence, or his face wouldn't have been so contorted with shock. Stone-still like that. "How dare you address him like that—I will not stand by while you order him about!" She hesitated and winced at her own foolishness, "Well, at least…not tonight, anyway."
Silence engulfed the entire room. Only steady breaths that seemed far too loud broke the silence.
Merlin finally tugged at her sleeve, "Raivierra. Really. It's quite alrigh—"
"How dare you address royalty in such a way!" Uther erupted, leaping from his seat and nearly causing her ears to bleed. Not to mention that he made the rest of the room jump. With each word he grew more enraged, moving threateningly towards her. "We offer you exceptional treatment and you… you wench! You ungrateful—"
"My Lord!" Four knights stormed in from the arching hallway, all frantic and one crying out in alarm.
"What is it now?" Uther whipped around, eying his soldiers in vexation.
"My apologies, Uther… on arriving unannounced." A feminine voice echoed from the passageway.
A dainty form floated past the four guards to make its entrance. It was a woman (no duh). Fair-skinned, slim pretty face, long auburn tresses… and even beneath the unflattering cloak she wore, her delicate hour-glass figure was what every man craved. And the way she carried herself. Even if this wasn't her shining hour—her hair being matted with sweat and mud, she walked with grace and elegance. Nobility. She had to be.
"Lady Katrina!" Uther exclaimed, confirming Raivierra's suspicions, and clambered towards the woman. "What's happened?"
Raivierra would've been content on staying and finding out what exactly was going on… but Merlin had other plans.
Merlin grabbed her by her forearm and pulled her close. "We're leaving."
"Oh?" she gave him a toothy grin and drew her face close to his. "But things were just starting to get interesting."
"If by interesting, you mean you were working on getting your head chopped off, then yes. Fascinating." He pulled her along after him. Damn. He actually was fairly stronger than he looked. "I'm getting you out of here."
The two slunk away to the side corridor, with that Lady Katrina providing plenty of distraction. Definitely holding Uther's attention, anyway.
They'd nearly made it. Back to Gaius' clinic. Yet one last obstacle stood in their way. Three to be exact. Arthur and two of his knights. Obviously, they hadn't left him back in the dining hall as they'd thought.
"Arthur!" Merlin called to him good-naturedly. "Oh, yes. Right. I'll be right there to shine your armor and… whatever." He tacked on hurriedly.
"Yes. You will. Now, actually." Arthur crossed his arms self-righteously and turned his attention to Raivierra. "We'll take Raivierra off your hands for the time being."
Raivierra narrowed her green eyes, taking in the setting of Arthur's expression. Something was off. She tilted her head and looked to Merlin. He was thinking the same thing. She licked her lips and yawned, "That's awfully generous of you, but I'm just about worn out for the day."
"Oh, nonsense." Arthur gave a stilted laugh and waved off her words. He moved towards her and hooked his arm around her neck, casually resting his arm across her satin-clothed shoulders. "No, I must insist that I show you around the keep. Get you familiar with Camelot. It'll be a blast."
Raivierra craned her head around to look at Merlin, who merely shrugged and released her as Arthur pulled her away. She tried to free herself of Arthur's grip, but to no avail. In fact, he tightened his grip and pulled her closer to his muscled chest. "Arthur… Prince Arthur…It's terribly late, and I—"
"No, not too late." Arthur grimaced a bit and loosened his grip a smidge—her hair had found its way into his mouth. "Come now, You've only just seen the physicians hall, the tavern, and the dining hall. There's far more to Camelot than that... and as my father made clear…" he lowered his voice a few volumes. "I do owe you."
Raivierra shivered. He was being far too chummy. She looked back at Merlin for support. The boy mouthed the words "good luck" and disappeared down the hallway. Some help he was. "Well. I suppose it couldn't hurt." She conceded.
"Excellent. I'm glad you see it my way." Arthur replied in a chipper tone—though it was clear he wasn't planning to settle for anything short of her agreement.
"Only for a little while." Raivierra reminded him, as well as herself. "Owen is going to have my hide if I'm late to my morning duties." She looked up at his face and found a smirk. Much like Merlin's. Too much like Merlin's. The one he always had when he knew she was in for it. Not good. Hell; that was an understatement.
"Oh, this won't take long at all." Arthur returned smugly. He lowered his head for his lips to be ear-level with her. "Tell me, Rai." He paused, watching her strain to her what he had to say next. "Have you seen the stockades?"
….
Son of a bitch.
Note: Hope ya'll dig it. And review, dears! Oh and feel free to critique, and give me opinions on Raivierra's character (mannerisms, personality, etc.) and anything else you find outstanding or heinous. I'll try to cut the wait-time between installments. Hopefully I'll be submitting a new update soon! Ciao for now!