Chapter 12

Īsiht Hliehhan

Disclaimer: I do not own either Danny Phantom or Merlin

Merlin smiled despite himself, holding the torch slightly higher above his head. Danny was walking just ahead of him, practically jumping down the cold stairs that led to their chosen training ground for the evening. Technically they were still within the citadel, it would be far too suspicious for them to try and sneak out with all the extra people in Camelot at the moment, but their plan was to go somewhere that nobody else would think to look. Despite the risk inherent in actually practicing magic so close to Camelot, it was just as risky to let the younger boy go too long without using his powers.

Although Merlin admitted to himself that he was just using the excuse as a reason to have some guilt free magic practice.

The Dragon's Cave was somewhere that Merlin had planned never to go again. It held too many memories and was a tangible expression of Uther's oppression. Kilgharrah had been trapped down here for twenty years, and Merlin's inner Dragonlord still roiled at the notion of his kin kept chained and forgotten for all that time. But it was a workable place to practice, large enough to handle whatever Danny and he did while being simultaneously protected from detection by lingering superstition, left over from the long years of Kilgharrah's enslavement. Down here, in the depths of the earth where no one ever came it was safe for a creature of magic to be themselves entirely.

Merlin paused as he came to the bottom step, suddenly finding it eerie. It was too quiet; the distant echoing of dripping water was the only sound breaking the silence, save the sounds of their own movement. The steady trickle of water sounded hollow in contrast to the heavy breathing that Kilgharrah used to make, and the constant clanking of chains had always been there. Without the noise, somehow the cave felt empty, missing the familiarity that Kilgharrah's presence had always brought no matter how antagonistic their relationship became.

"You alright?" Danny asked, apparently having noticed Merlin's pause.

"Yeah." He replied, shaking his head dismissively. "It's quieter since the last time I came down here."

"I guess it would be." Danny replied. "But it's a good thing. It means Kilgharrah's free, that he's not being turned into some perversive symbol of the power of man over magic."

Merlin smiled and nodded, letting out a long breath as he stared out at the cave. The light from his torch sent flickering light over the closest stones, creating long shadows that danced in the light. He watched as Danny left the small ring of firelight, descending the staircase that led to the bottom of the cave. A small ball of white light appeared just over the boy's shoulder, radiating the strange coolness of the boy's magic.

"There's nothing down there." Merlin pointed out, calling after him as the boy's dark head sunk out of view.

"Doesn't hurt to look." Danny replied. "One of the things I've learned over the past few years is to learn as much as you can about your environment... although that might have more to do with being the target of the Ghost Zone's 'greatest hunter'"

"You aren't talking about your parents, are you?"

"Nope. Skulker's a ghost... not the smartest, but he is pretty innovative when he comes up with weapons. He likes unique things." Danny replied, his head popping up from the top of Kilgharrah's old perch. "When was the last time someone came down here?"

"Just after the dragon was released." Merlin replied. "They were looking for how he escaped. Why do you ask?"

"Some of the rocks around here look like they've been piled up by hand," Danny replied dismissively "but if you say they were looking for clues, then that makes sense."

Merlin shook his head recalling those dark days. Kilgharrah's escape had been marred by a lot of bloodshed, and much of the lower town had been reduced to rubble in the dragon's wrath. Uther, at the time, had seemed more angered by the fact that the dragon escaped than the fact that his people were being hurt. The first thing he'd done when the dragon escaped was send people down here, hoping to catch the sorcerer who'd freed him. Not that they'd found anything other than the severed chain. Merlin had left very few tracks then, and hadn't been caught for his part in freeing the dragon.

But now wasn't the time to get lost in the guilt of the past, he'd come down here for a bit of a reprieve from work in the castle, and for the opportunity to practice magic properly once more. By now Danny was sitting cross legged atop the rock pile, looking across the gap back towards Merlin's ledge.

"You're a lot smaller than the last creature of magic that sat on that perch." Merlin pointed out lightly.

"And a lot more plain spoken I'd wager." Danny replied, half smiling. "Please don't expect me to start speaking in riddles; they're more annoying than anything else."

Merlin rolled his eyes, breaking into a smile at the drab retort. "And all they do is send you looking in circles..."

"Until you look back on them and realise how it all makes sense in hindsight." Danny surmised, his eyes sparkling. "So no riddles."

"No riddles." Merlin agreed. "I was hoping to continue off where we left it the other night."

Danny frowned, looking at him askance. "About that... how many people actually speak the spells they use?"

"Most people do. It adds structure and makes it easier to focus on the spell." Merlin answered. "The language of the Old Religion provides a boundary so that a stray thought won't interfere with the spell."

"So it's not completely necessary provided you can keep focused on what you're trying to achieve?" Danny pressed.

"Not technically." Merlin confirmed, wondering what the younger boy was getting at.

"It's just..." Danny began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "It strikes me that in a full out duel, speaking incantations is gonna hold you back. In my experience, you need that advantage if you don't want your opponent to outmanoeuvre you. Last week I caught on pretty quickly what the spells were doing, and I imagine that someone well practiced in magic would know what you were doing."

Merlin nodded in understanding. "I noticed that, and I know that it's perhaps not the best way to go about things. I've just found that over the years my magic has intensified to the point where the spell naturally sets the boundaries. Otherwise it can quickly become... unwieldy." He frowned, realising the ramifications of his confession.

"A symptom of not being able to practice." Danny replied sympathetically. "I sort of understand... there's this one power I have that I can never use because I've never had the ability to practice it." He shook his head dismissively, although Merlin still caught the brief haunted look that passed through the younger boy's blue eyes. "So... I guess maybe the way to work on it would be to work on precision and control, see if that helps. I mean that asterix spell was powerful but... why are you laughing?"

Merlin shook his head, his lips pinched as he bit back a laugh. "I'm sorry, but 'asterix'? I think the one you're looking for 'ástríce'. It translates roughly as 'I strike'."

"With a ten tonne mallet." Danny mumbled only just loudly for Merlin to catch the sullen response. "Not the point." Danny replied more loudly. "The point is that it was probably overpowered, and I know that if I keep blasting like that myself for too long, I have nothing in reserve for later."

"Your green... ecto-blasts?" Merlin guessed, struggling to recall what the boy had called them. Danny replied with a smile and a nod and Merlin continued. "They were still pretty strong." It was true; the night they'd been out practicing for the first time Merlin had been surprised by the intensity in the boy's blows. Both of them had been protected by their own version of a shield, but even through that Merlin had felt the cold strength held in each of Danny's icy blasts. It wasn't the strongest he'd experienced, but he had been vaguely reminded of the intensity of Nimueh's blows the day she died.

"Not in comparison to what I can do." Danny replied. "The difference is precision. The more focused the attack is, the more damage it'll do. A big attack can be good for overwhelming an opponent, but it's more draining than it needs to be. The first time I fired an ecto-blast it left me breathless because I was trying too hard. By concentrating the attack it delivers a similar force, but saves energy."

"You make it sound as though magic works like Gaius' dilutions." Merlin replied sceptically, crossing his arms over his chest. "It can't be bound like that, magic and nature are irrevocably intertwined, you can't constrain it and the people who try meet dire consequences. Surely you've experienced that."

"But..." Danny frowned, running a hand through his hair, looking annoyed at himself more than anything. "I know that, sometimes it's like you're just acting like a channel and all you can do is let it run its course. But at the same time..." Danny paused, frowning as he lifted a knee to sit under his chin. Merlin could see the thoughts flickering behind his blue eyes and decided to let Danny think. He took a seat, his legs swinging over the dark crevasse prom his perch on the cave ledge.

"Actually that works." Danny commented after a minute, breaking the silence that had built. "Picture your magic as like a river; the spell itself is the water that flows and your mind is what controls the river bed. If the river is broad the water moves slowly and doesn't do much. But if you narrow the river bed, force the water through a smaller path it speeds up. It's still the same spell, still the same amount of water that moves through, but by forcing it into a narrower path you conserve energy, well, so long as you can keep the river bed in place."

"And this is what you do with your powers?" Merlin pressed, looking across at the boy.

Danny shrugged. "Something similar. I worked with a different analogy, but I don't think my talking about the life cycle of stars would help you much since that sort of science won't exist for a long time. But yeah, a river works just as well."

Merlin nodded, accepting the advice for what it was. Danny was trying to help, and Merlin appreciated that. He also understood the difficulty in trying to put something like magic to words. It was almost impossible; words just didn't capture the essence of magic. So the effort was appreciated. And he was the first to admit to himself that he needed to try other things with his magic. Just because it came easily to him didn't mean it would hurt to try something new.

Danny grinned at him, blue eyes shining bright in the darkness of the cave as he seemed to sense the moment of Merlin's acceptance. "Awesome." The boy commented, showing a glimmer of smiling white teeth as he jumped across the crevasse between them and landed on the ledge beside Merlin. "Well then I guess we should set up a target and get started."

Merlin grinned, catching onto Danny's enthusiasm. It probably wasn't something Danny intended to do, nor was it particularly obvious. But there was something infectious about his sort of naive wisdom. Danny was excitable, sometimes a bit more laid back than was really necessary, but moments like this brought out a compelling sort of strength in him. It was obvious, to Merlin at least, that Danny didn't quite fit into their era, but at the same time he held himself to many of the same ideals that Arthur and his knights held themselves to. And for all their differences, Merlin couldn't help but draw on the parallels between what Danny had said of his adventures and his own.

Beside him, Danny's eyes flashed a brighter blue, and Merlin felt the cool magic that perpetually surrounded the boy surge out in front of them, morphing itself into something cold and solid. Merlin blinked as a huge circle shaped block of ice appeared atop Kilgharrah's old perch. It looked fairly similar to the targets on the training ground that Arthur used to throw daggers at, but at the same time it was made of ice, frosted over like frozen snow melt over the castle cobblestones.

"Is that ice?" Merlin asked, looking between the ice and the boy who had summoned it.

"Yeah." Danny answered with a half shrug. "Although it is ghostly ice which doesn't go away unless the ghost who made it lets it melt. So it should make a workable target to practice on."

Merlin nodded in acceptance although he was curious now about how much Danny could do in his human form. In turn that led onto the question of whether Danny would be able to use magic the same way he did, defined by the structure of spells. In a way, what Merlin had seen of the boy's ghost powers was like his own magic when he first came to Camelot, albeit much more battle practiced. The spells added boundaries to the raw nature of magic, allowing for more control, and Merlin was interested to see if it was possible for Danny, a halfa, to learn human magic.

But Danny was looking expectantly towards him, and Merlin sensed the distinct air of someone who was keen to see magic. It was strange as much as it was amusing and Merlin felt very much like he'd just been put on a stage at a Beltane feast. Gathering up his magic he focused on the target, staring at it as he let the spell form on his lips.

"Ástríce!" He shouted, thrusting his hand forward as the spell leapt away from him, pulling slightly on his own energy reserves as the overcharged spell soared through the air. He watched as the spell instantly traversed the small distance between him and the target, a beam of bright gold impacting heavily against the block of solid ice. There was a slight hiss as the spell touched the target, and a moment of weighted silence. The air hung in silent tension, and Merlin sensed the strange build up of nervous anticipation.

Then the target exploded, shattering outwards in every direction with the sound of shattering stone. Merlin instinctively flung up a shield, blocking the path of the falling ice as it rushed out at them. He barely felt the ice make contact though and turned his attention to the younger boy who stood by his side.

Danny was half covered in fallen snow, flecks of white dusting his shirt and fluttering down off his dark hair. Danny turned towards him, a strange sort of amusement in his eyes as he stared at Merlin. His lips twitched as though he was fighting a smile, and Merlin couldn't help but laugh. Between the larger than expected reaction and the look on Danny's face it was hard to fight back the sounds of his own mirth.

"Okay." Danny commented, nodding his head lightly. "We have a lot of work to do."

There was a brief pause, both of them looking at each other in cautious evaluation before they both burst into simultaneous laughter. Merlin couldn't help it. He'd always wanted to be able to freely practice his magic, to experience it for all it was and not just what he could glean from behind closed doors. But this was something wonderful, being able to share his magic with someone like him, both learning from each other. And while he knew that danger was always lurking, it was moments like this that made everything seem worthwhile.

Leon shook his head as he took his place in line with the other knights of Camelot. For all his life he had stood firm in his loyalty to his country and to his crown. It was a large part of how he defined himself, holding true to his loyalty and following his liege to the best of his ability. As Camelot's First Knight it was his duty to be loyal to the crown, but he served Arthur for far more than just that. There were few kings who held themselves to the high standards that Arthur did, fewer still who could remain true to their beliefs and remain uncorrupted by the horrors that they had encountered over the many years.

As a knight, Leon knew he had shared many of Arthur's most defining moments with the young king. He was one of Camelot's longest standing knights, only a few years older than Arthur, and had survived much at his king's side. During that time he'd watched as a perhaps selfishly pig-headed young prince became a true king, someone who honestly deserved the loyalty shown to him. He had stood at Arthur's side through thick and thin, through sieges and overthrows. In fact, he was probably second only to Merlin in terms of presence in the young king's life.

He was proud of his king in many respects, but this venture into uniting the kingdoms was probably what would define Arthur as a king. The world was changing, Leon knew, and he strongly suspected that the turning point had been a young, impertinent, dark haired man who had walked up to a prince and called him a bully all those years ago. Leon had a great respect for Merlin, despite his servant's status, and couldn't help but feel grateful for the role he played in showing Arthur the value of equality.

Leon smiled, looking over the tournament grounds as Merlin carried a pile of weapons towards the weapons rack. Beside him was the young boy, Danny, the two involved in such deep conversation that Leon privately wondered how they managed not to trip over anything. When the younger boy had first arrived in Camelot Leon had been wary; they were still recovering from Morgana's last coup and with the treaty talks coming up, it was worrisome to have new faces appearing in the city. If nothing else Morgana's cunning proved that treachery was omnipresent in their lives.

But Danny was a different story. He seemed to follow Merlin around like a little lost puppy and somehow managed to stay some of the manservant's less savoury moods. Leon doubted that his companions had truly noticed it, but Danny brought back some of the young boy that Merlin used to be, he was quicker to smile and more sincere in his happiness since the younger boy arrived. They were similar; there was no doubt about that. In fact, Leon was half anticipating the day that Merlin admitted that Danny was a long lost brother despite the man's claims at being an only child.

Leon bit back a laugh as Merlin tripped over, the weapons in his hands toppling clumsily out of his arms and to the ground. It seemed he wasn't the only one amused by Merlin's usual display of clumsiness, Danny seemed to let out a laugh before shuffling his own load so he could help pull Merlin up. Leon shook his head and walked on, knowing that between the two of them they'd manage to sort out Merlin's accidental mess quickly enough.

He made his way over to the tournament ground stands where the ten leaders were already seated. Eadric had mentioned the idea in passing over dinner, and all the kings had been quick to latch on. Leon was glad for it; it wasn't often that he or any of the knights had opportunity to match their skill against other people outside of life threatening circumstances. This was an opportunity for the kingdoms to display their ability on friendly terms, and from a political angle was a good way to keep the knights occupied while the various leaders spoke about treaties.

He offered a small encouraging smile to Arthur as the king glanced his way, earning him a relieved nod before Arthur turned back to his discussion with King Rodor. Leon smiled and walked over to where the other Camelot knights were preparing, pausing as Elyan looked up from his whetstone to offer him a weary smile.

"Leon." The dark skinned knight acknowledged, testing the edge of the blade and standing up. "So what do you think of all this."

"It's wise." Leon replied, scanning over the visiting knights as they gathered in their own kingdom's bright colours. "It will keep the visiting knights out of trouble and give an entertaining balance to the treaty talks."

"Should be a bit of fun." Gwaine's voice called out, carrying loudly across the sounds of sharpening steel and thudding armour. Leon found himself having to brace as the dark haired knight slung a heavy arm around his shoulder. He shrugged it off, sending a reprimanding glance towards the younger knight.

"This is an opportunity to represent the kingdom, Gwaine," Leon pointed out "and is no less serious than when we ride into battle."

Gwaine grinned "But the purpose is to demonstrate our skill, and I plan to do just that."

"Don't get cocky, Gwaine." Elyan added, leaning slightly on his sword. "The point of this is to show unity, not go off seeking our own glory."

"My dear Elyan I'm wounded." Gwaine replied, putting an exaggerated hand to his chest. "In an environment like this private glory is all in Arthur's name. When we win we help prove that the ideals our monarch proposes are the strongest in the land."

"And he managed to say that with a straight face." A fourth voice cut in, and Leon smiled as he saw the impish face of Danny pop up beside Elyan. His arms were still full of an assortment of weapons, but he quickly set them aside among the collection of swords and maces already gathered. "I'm surprised."

Leon's lips twitched as he fought to hold back a laugh, and the dark skinned knight opposite him let out a muffled chortle. Gwaine huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face before shaking his head and picking up one of the maces that Danny had just brought over. "I should probably tell you to try and behave." Leon added, "But I know that's unlikely. Just don't bring too much undue attention to Camelot please Gwaine."

"Oh I won't." Gwain swore, swinging his mace so it sat lighly on his shoulder. "Actually, that reminds me. I may have let on to King Eadric that Danny here is a page-come-squire type person, so if there's any squirey things you need done just ask him."

"Hey!" Danny groused. "I did not sign up for that. I distinctly remember not signing up for that when Arthur asked about it."

"And you didn't keep up with that deal either, so this is your punishment." Gwaine retorted.

"Do I want to know?" Leon mumbled to Elyan with a raised eyebrow.

"Gwaine tried to corral Danny into watching Merlin about Mithian, but Arthur caught us before he could say yes." Elyan explained in a quiet murmur as both of them watched Gwaine and the younger boy bicker. It ended with Gwaine catching Danny and rubbing his knuckles hard into his raven hair, leaving the boy scowling when he was released. Leon shook his head emphatically at the display, amused at their antics.

However there was no more time for comments as a trumpet thrilled, calling all knights to stand in the centre of the tournament grounds. Leon smiled as he pulled Gwaine away, guiding him to the line of Camelot red that was gathering at the left of the field. Leon's gaze lifted briefly up into the stands, his eyes settling on the box where all the kings were seated. The ten leaders sat side by side, shoulder, but somehow Arthur stood out among them. The sun shifted slightly, settling just enough to turn the king's blonde hair into a shining crown of gold. Leon smiled, shaking his head slightly at the thought.

Many years ago, when he'd first started hearing the first hints of Arthur's plans for uniting the kingdoms he'd dismissed them as a foolish ideal. He was loyal to Arthur; he had known that even then. But the young man, then only a prince, would hardly have been able to inspire anyone to anything. The kingdoms all served their own ends and any desire for unity was doomed to fail unless it was in the form of an absolute conquering and subsequent demoralisation of all the peoples. But as he took his stand amongst the other knights, a rainbow of colours from each of ten individual kingdoms, he couldn't help but be amazed at how much Arthur had achieved. Arthur was single handedly bringing them all together, spearheading a time of peace that Leon himself had only dreamed could ever exist.

A smile flitted onto his face as he gazed up at the eyes of his king. Arthur spoke majestic words as he declared the tournament open, and Leon could hear the pride and enthusiasm that laced every word. He had always known that he would do anything for his king, fight through fierce sieges and endured the worst forms of personal humiliation in his name. But it was times like these that he could see the true reason why. There was something about Arthur that was far greater than just one man, greater than a man or a prince or a king. Something beyond comprehension. It had always been there, a small ember waiting in the fireplace. But now it was burning bright for the entire world to see.

Almost intuitively Leon's eyes slid sideways, just beyond Arthur's shoulders to the ever present dark head of Merlin. The king's manservant had always been there for Arthur, and Leon couldn't help but feel grateful to the younger man. Albeit uncredited, Merlin was something intrinsic to Camelot, the steady hand that simultaneously managed to encourage the king and keep his ego in check. Merlin had always been the one that caught Arthur when he was falling and spurred him onwards. Even if it wasn't conventional, the strange dynamic between Merlin and the young king was no doubt responsible for all of this.

And that was what was so endearing about it.

Arthur and Merlin bickered more than a married couple, but they worked together. Merlin was entrusted in councils to which no servant had ever been permitted before, allowed knowledge far beyond his station. But it had never seemed important. Not really. Merlin was willing to go above and beyond the call of duty for his king, something which Leon knew all too well. And so in his heart Leon knew he would always allow Merlin his societal transgressions; Arthur was a better king for them.

Leon frowned, following the gaze of the dark haired young man. Usually Merlin's focus was on Arthur, even if he wasn't following orders the man was usually attentive towards the young king. But Merlin was entirely focused on one of the other kings, a dark look turning his eyes to steel. Leon fought to suppress the concern in his chest, struggling to dismiss it as paranoia. As he watched Merlin's eyes shifted once more, fixing on a point just beyond the tournament grounds.

Frowning, Leon followed his gaze, watching what seemed to be a silent conversation between Merlin and his ward. Merlin's lips pressed in a frown, his eyes creased in concern. And from the opposite side of the tournament grounds Danny frowned, shaking his head ever so slightly. The boy shifted uncomfortably, as though annoyed about something that he couldn't change. The boy's eyes flicked briefly to one of the knights, but it was back on Merlin before Leon could find who he was looking at. Leon lost track of Arthur's speech, his attention focused entirely focused entirely on the unspoken conversation between the two dark haired young men. It was only when the crowd launched into applause that Leon realised that he had to move.

But he couldn't help the small inklings of concern that sank into his stomach. Not when Merlin looked away from his ward with a barely concealed frown and when Leon saw a look of confused look of defeat flitter across young Danny's face.

Suspicion wasn't something he'd ever been familiar with. And his first duty was to Arthur in all things. So he would watch and wait, and entrust that whatever it was that Merlin and his ward thought they saw would not damage all that Arthur was trying to achieve.

Leon bowed his head as he moved back to the tented area, awaiting his first contest. As he moved he settled a brief comforting hand on Danny's shoulder, parting without a word. He knew that Merlin often saw more than the knights did, his role as a servant allowed him more liberties than was ever truly acknowledged. He was often the first to notice things that warranted concern and helped solve problems before they became too big – if he could convince Arthur to listen to him. But through Arthur this bettered the people in such subtle ways that it wasn't noticeable. And in this, Merlin, through Danny, had Leon's full support.

Eadric smirked as he watched the proceedings from his seat up in the stands. It had been an inspired move to make the suggestion for a minor tournament to entertain the knights over dinner. Arthur, being the thrill seeking man that he was, had leapt onto it and had quickly convinced the other kings and queen of the brilliance of the idea. Eadric was more than pleased, knowing that the element of slight chaos in the tournament would allow his pet sorcerer to gather the final ingredients needed for his magic.

His clapped in false enthusiasm as the fifth bout was brought to a quick end. The blue clad defeated knight bowed in acknowledgement as the winner helped him back to his feet. The crowd cheered as the victor raised his arms and twirled his sword before proceeding back into the waiting area. Eadric had hardly watched, knowing that the competitions between the lesser kingdoms were of little import. To his mind all that mattered were the competitions between Daobeth black and Camelot red.

His grin widened as he watched Killian take to the field, a swirl of black billowing around him as he bowed deeply to the enthusiastic crowd. The man's opponent was the big tall Camelot knight, somewhat reminiscent of a bear. Eadric almost laughed at the man's foolishness; the man had come into the match with sleeveless chain mail. It was as though he was asking for trouble, or overconfident. Unfortunately the man's hair was short, making it necessary that Killian draw blood from this particular opponent.

Eadric sat down in his seat as the fight began, watching intently as the two exchanged blows. The Camelot man was large and strong; Killian did not have the brute force necessary to combat some of the harder blows. But Killian was faster, and Eadric clapped with the crowd as Killian dove through a brief break in the taller man's defences. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to raise a cut on the larger man's left arm.

He fought to conceal the lustful grin on his face as he caught sight of the blood on Killian's blade. The outcome of the fight hardly mattered at this point; his pet sorcerer had already won where it counted. Eadric cheered with the crowd as the fight picked up, swords clashing with brute ferocity as the tall bear of a man fought back. There was a tense gasp as Killian feinted, an echoing silence hushing the tournament grounds. But the taller knight was not dissuaded, pushing through the hazel eyed man's defences and putting the tip of his sword to the man's throat. The crowd roared in enthusiasm as Camelot came out successful in this round.

"Quite the fighter you have there." Eadric commented lightly, gesturing down towards the grounds.

The blonde haired man smiled, his blue eyes lit in enthusiastic naivety. "Sir Percival has more than earned his title." The young king replied.

"I find it surprising that you find this level of skill from such lowly stock." Eadric pointed out, looking down at the small sea of tents on the edge of the tournament grounds. A number of red clad knights were milling around waiting for their own contests. Few of them came from noble stock, in fact it was said that there was only one noble's son in Arthur's inner circle. Eadric had yet to determine if this showed foresight on the young kings part, or outright folly. But it hardly mattered in the end.

"If there's one thing I've learned over these past years," Arthur replied still smiling. "It's that all men have worth. Sometimes all you need to do is afford them the opportunity to show it."

"Well said." Eadric replied, schooling his face into one of light hearted enthusiasm. In the end it didn't matter; he was going to bring this kingdom down stone by stone for the king's weakness. But for now the facade was still necessary, so he joined in enthused conversation with the other dignitaries as they settled in for the next bout.

Briefly his eyes secreted across the field, down to his First Knight. Eadric nodded at him, a secretive smirk concealed in his darkened hazel eyes. The knights of Camelot may be strong, they may well be worth the renown that they were heralded with. But it would ultimately come to nothing. All the physical strength in the world was meaningless against an adversary such as magic, and Eadric had no compunction against using any form of power to reach his ends.

Killian slunk off the field, shrugging his black cloak back on. Eadric's eyes followed him subtly, knowing that he would need to talk to his pet sorcerer before the treaty talks began again. He frowned slightly, seeing the oily haired man pause beside one of the Camelot knights. The man was dark skinned and hunched over a whetstone, assisted by the strange young boy he'd seen fight the day before. From what he'd understood, the boy was somewhere between a page and a squire and thus shouldn't warrant any attention.

But Eadric was always looking for new ways to assert his power, and the boy showed promise. At his age he would be easily persuaded, malleable. Perhaps he could be convinced to see things his way in the aftermath; after all, there was no need to spill the blood of someone not yet sworn to Arthur. The dark haired young boy showed remarkable skill against a fully trained knight, and used a fighting style that was both versatile and fluid. It was likely, just from the way the boy fought, that he had some experience in defending himself against magic, and that was always a valuable asset.

A cold smirk plucked its way onto his lips as he watched Killian stalk away. Plans could be adjusted, refined to perfection. And Eadric lusted at the thought of leaving Camelot with one of Camelot's young fighters to claim as his own. He joined in the applause as two new knights took to the field, settling in with the appreciated hush as the fight begun. His machinations were moving along perfectly; Killian had found the dragon's scale and was working to collect the final tokens for his magical totems. All Eadric needed to do now was watch and wait.

And perhaps determine a way to persuade a young dark haired boy to his side.

AN; Hey! *subs neck embarrassedly*So I know it's not brilliant... but Leon is surprisingly hard to write. And I'm supposed to be working on an essay or three. But anyway...

Translations;
Īsiht Hliehhan – Icy Laugh

Love you lots, and thanks to everyone who's been so patient and kind in your reviews.

See you next time,

Bluerose