(Authors Note: Hello! Still don't own Merlin or the Arthurian Legend. Merlin's fake last name is a mix of Ealdor, the place he's from, and Hunith, his mothers name. So now we get to the Tournament itself, which I know you've all been looking forward to so I won't keep you.)

Part 4 Let The Tournament Begin

{Merlin's POV}

I was nervous. Within reason but still. Last time I had seen the open tournament several people had died. Of course I had two advantages. One I was small so no one would expect me to be much of a threat, and two magic and my 'clumsy' tactic.

These things had kept me alive the past seven years, there was no reason to believe they would fail me now.

My weapon of choice was the quarterstaff. I may have broken the one I had stolen from the Shide almost three years ago when facing off against a very angry giant I had managed to find a more than suitable replacement.

It was equally magical if not more powerful than the last one and far less conspicuous. It had a metal band at each end, brass I thought, and writing I had yet to have the time to translate. But other than that it looked like a normal staff but over these past years on my own I had become deadly accurate with a staff.

As a safety precaution and a backup plan I had a dagger, not magical, but I was quite attached to it. Arthur had given it to me years ago for my birthday. He stood in front of me now, less than six feet away.

"Welcome one and all to the annual open tournament! Each of you has your own unique skills and talents. This tournament will pit said skills against that of your opponent. There are no rules. A fight is won when one contestant is disarmed and concedes or is otherwise incapacitated. Let the tournament begin!" He smiled and sat down next to Gwen who looked even prettier than I remembered. Most of the contestants trooped off the field, all but me and a large man with two swords. The register had said his name was Daniel.

The cloth I had wrapped around the bottom half of my face to keep from being recognized was thin and easy to breathe through. The leather armor I wore was light and much easier to move in than chainmail though I still preferred fighting in regular clothes.

The bigger man lunged and I danced just out of reach swinging my staff in a circle with one hand, the other hand helping me keep balance. To anyone watching, including Daniel, it would look like I was flailing around for balance when in fact I had never lost it. Thinking he had caught me off guard he advanced, he was focused on my feet and the arm that was holding the staff.

Quick as lightning I switched hands and struck out before he had a chance to react. A series of quick blows to his wrists and stomach had him dropping his swords and clutch his stomach. A final blow his helmeted head had him crumpling. Unconscious and moaning he was out of the fight. He would wake up with the worst headache of his life and several bruises but no serious damage. He wasn't the shifter.

The crowd roared its approval. Arthur was clapping and Gwaine and Lancelot were whooping in the stands. I smiled and bowed to the crowd as I left. Even I had to admit the cheering was nice.

{Lancelot's POV}

That had to be him. Gwaine had said he had seen 'a Merlin and a Robin'. This boy's name was Robin according to the roster.

He was the right build, a few inches taller and slightly more muscular than he had been but still a little scrawny. As I watched his second fight, doubt gripped me. Could that powerhouse really be Merlin? Then again he had been powerful before, just not really physically. And this Robin wasn't really using power or even strength. He was targeting weak points focusing on distracting his opponent. Pretending not to know what he was doing, misdirecting his opponent. He knocked the man, this one closer to his size using a large battle axe, in one ear then danced around behind him as he swung wide. Merlin had been a master of misdirection. 'Robin' lashed out knocking the man off his feet. His balance must have been thrown off by the blow to the ear because he found himself unable to get up. He would heal even I knew that.

He had won again and again Gwaine whooped louder than the rest of the crowd. That was him. I joined Gwaine whole heartedly this time. Merlin bowed to the crowd again and left so the next fight could start.

I smiled and dragged Gwaine off to the training field where the contestants were waiting for their next fight. He was there, dressed in leather armor and brown boots, a familiar red cloth wrapped around the bottom half of his face. His eyes gave him away though; no one else had eyes like that. Crystal clear blue interspersed with flecks of bright gold. They glinted when he saw us coming over and smiled.

"Nice fight Robin! Two wins, never thought you had that in you!" Gwaine said hugging him in a very manly fashion. His eyes smiled once more, the bottom half of his face was still covered and his voice was slightly muffled.

"Thanks Sir Gwaine." The 'sir' was laced with humor and sarcasm. I smiled. If I had had any doubt left it had melted when he spoke. I held out my hand.

"It was a good fight Robin. I'm Sir Lancelot." I was playing along. He took my hand and I whispered in his ear.

"Good to see you Merlin." He pulled back, his eyes grinning again.

"Nice to meet you Sir Lancelot."

{Arthur's POV}

I was impressed. I had been sure that the scrawny boy in front of me would die in his first fight. Yet not only had he survived but he had gone on to win all three fights he had participated in. He looked familiar but it couldn't be. He just kind of looked like him.

I clapped as his third and final opponent, for today, was dragged off. He had knocked the air out of this one and probably bruised or broken a few of his ribs somehow keeping out of range of his daggers. I was wishing I had entered the tournament this time but I had talked myself out of it.

A voice in my head, which sounded annoyingly like Merlin, had convinced me that it was a very bad idea for me to get wounded or worse in a tournament.

This boy with the staff seemed full of surprises. Though small, skinny, and slightly off balance he had somehow managed to take down three men who were all physically more powerful than himself. Gwaine must know him for he was cheering loudly at every victory.

I wasn't surprised at that. Gwaine knew lots of people. I leaned over to Gwen.

"What's that boy's name?" She smiled.

"Robin. Robin Ealdith. Apparently he's well traveled but no one knows for sure where he's from. According to Joana anyway." I smiled at her and turned my attention back to the fights.