Hey everyone who reads my little author's note! I hope you are having a wonderful day, or night as the case may be. You're about to read one of my favorite chapters, though I don't really know why it is one of my favorites. To encourage a little reviewing, I'm going to institute a little reward. Leave me a review telling me who your favorite OC is and why you like her, and whichever character gets the most votes will get a larger role in the second to last chapter, which is where Merlin gets his girl. It's still in the works, so your vote could change the direction of the chapter, which will be extra-long. But, review or no review, I hope you enjoy my story and keep reading!
Disclaimer: Sorry all you sue happy lawyers, I'll bow to copyright laws and say that I do indeed not own Merlin.
Chapter Four: Anna
For as long as Anna could remember her family had owned and worked in one of the busiest taverns in Camelot, The Dancing Boar. When she was young, both her father and her mother had forbidden her and her siblings to do so much as to set foot in the place. But during the years of the Great Purge, her parents didn't dare leave them home alone. Anna's days of working in the tavern had begun in the kitchen, kept out of the eyes of the drunken men who frequented the place.
She might have remained working there for her entire life if the day had not come when one of the server girls had fallen ill just before 'rush hours'. Desperate, her father had reluctantly taken the 14 year old Anna and set her to serving. At fourteen she'd been painfully shy and still immature enough to be overlooked by the men, so the experience had not been as bad as she had imagined. From then on she became a substitute for any of the jobs within the tavern. When one woman stopped coming to work, Anna just took over. It wasn't until she'd reached sixteen and her younger sister had begun to work in the tavern as a server that they'd had their first spot of trouble.
A man had been flirting with Dawn, Anna's sister. Anna couldn't bear it, and offered to take the table instead. They'd been crass and rude, but she had just continually answered them in the negative. It was obvious that her father had yet to realize what was going on, but when one of the men had grabbed her and tried to plant a kiss on her while he pulled her onto his lap, her father took notice. His angry roar had silenced the tavern and frozen the man. After that a new sign was erected, "If you reserve the right to touch the serving girls, we reserve the right to cut your hands off." A bit extreme, but it had proven extremely effective.
The experience caused two very different reactions in Anna and Dawn. Dawn, the more pretty of the two, had decided to use her looks to get larger tips. Anna had been frightened to return to the job, but, shy as she was, she didn't want to be replaced by one of her younger sisters. She preferred them safe in the kitchen, with her then pregnant mother. It was not a good time to be spending more money than strictly necessary, and so Anna had marched into the tavern the next day, sure in her father's ability to protect her.
Which was what had brought her to this position, Anna realized riley. If she wasn't so tenacious, she could have been back home by this time of night.
It was late and only the most drunk of the drunks was still in the tavern. All the couples had already left, and save a few drunken groups, it was pretty much regulars. The man whose wife and daughter had been executed during the Great Purge, the man who's brother had been shot by Morgana's archers, the man who was hardly more than a boy that had been crippled in a monster attack last spring.
Anna moved amongst them all, head kept low, tankards held high. It would soon be closing time, and she'd be able to collapse into her bed.
"Wench, get over here!"
Plastering a smile on her face, she marched over to a dirty looking man who was sharing a table with his equally dirty looking friends.
"How can I serve you sir?" Anna asked pleasantly. It was her rule for herself, no matter how much she disliked a customer, every coin helped to send her siblings into trades.
"You can serve us wench," the man commanded, "by sitting down and sharing a drink with us."
"Sorry, my father doesn't allow the serving girls to eat with male parties."
Anna tried to sound apologetic, but she had apparently not been convincing enough.
"Oh, so you think you're too good to share a drink with honest, hardworking men like us?" The man growled at her before calling her a string of names so vile that Anna flinched.
Frantically, Anna turned about, looking for her father. Normally, he wouldn't allow the men to even talk to her like this. She had just realized he was gone when the man grasped her arm.
"Let go of me," she demanded, trying to stay calm while her mind flashed back to that night so long ago.
"Don't think we will," the man told her, leaning his bearded face towards hers in a mock of intimacy, while downing another tankard of ale. "Think we'll take you hunting with us instead."
"Dawn?" Anna called out, trusting her sister to realize what a bad situation she was in. When there was no corresponding answer, she realized what must have happened. There had been a liquor shipment scheduled for that day, but it hadn't arrived. If it had arrived late, her father would have taken her brother to help him unload the wagon, and Dawn to give the deliverer a tongue lashing.
"My name's Don," the man said, pulling her closer to him, "how'd you guesh?"
Anna evaluated her options. She could scream, but the tavern was built to keep sound in, and any of the men inside who would have helped her were too drunk to do so. Only Dawn and she had been left to serve that night. These men would take her out the front door, while any shipments came to the one in the back, so she would never be seen by her family.
"I'll ask you one more time to unhand me," she said, her voice firm despite her fear. Bluffing appeared to be her only way out of this situation.
"And if youknowsh what'sh good for you, you'll be quiet," the man said, using the hand not clutching at her to gesture to the knife at his belt.
"I think the woman said for you to let her go."
The male voice was quietly confident, and Anna was surprised who it belonged to when he strode into her line of sight.
"Sir Percival!" Anna could only hope the relief in her voice was not evident. She'd forgotten all about him, tucked into the corner as he normally was. He came to the tavern almost every night, kept both his words and his hands to himself, never got drunk (except for the one time he had come in with his friends), and always tipped well. All of that had quickly made him one of her favorites.
"Anna," he said, giving her a quick dip of the head while his eyes stayed on the men in front of him. "Now you good men, why don't you release the girl and go about your business."
"Who do you think you are, a knight?" the man asked. "Sir Percival?"
He must have been drunker then Anna had thought, to have not recognized the meaning of the Camelot Red Percival was wearing. His buddies were not so drunk.
"Wait Don, maybe he ish a knight," one of them suggested before hiccupping loudly.
"No way," Don said, gripping Anna's arm tight enough to leave bruises. "Thish is no knight. Not unless the knights have gotten dumber!"
He laughed loudly while Anna tried to follow his logic.
"Unhand the girl," Percival warned once more.
"No."
And so a fight began. Percival pulled Anna from the man's grasp as if the man was a child before slamming the man's own tankard on his head. The man went down for the count. Two of his friends were aroused enough by this show to go after him together, while the one who had spoken up scrambled out of the tavern. Anna was surprised how quickly he had them lain out on the floor with their friend.
"Now Anna, do you have anything cold?" Percival asked her quietly, as if the fight had never happened. "I'm afraid I wrenched your wrist when I pulled you away from that man. I apologize for the mess though, I'm willing to pay for any damage I caused."
"We have an ice box under the bar," Anna told him dazedly, allowing him to guide her to it. "And you certainly won't be paying for anything. You don't owe us any apologies, you saved me."
Percival remained silent as he pulled out a few ice chunks, wrapped them in a cloth, and then pressed it to her wrist. His other hand ghosted over the bruises that were already forming on her arm.
"At least allow me to apologize for those," he whispered. "I should have intervened sooner. I would have had I known what would happen. I was expecting your father to step forward as he usually does."
"You saw all of that?"
"I did, I was watching you."
Percival looked nervous to admit what he had been doing there that night, but quite a few things suddenly clicked in Anna's mind. While it may be said she was shy, it was never said she was slow.
"So the reason you come here every night is not to benefit from the fine ale and food, but to watch over me?"
"Well, the food is very good," Percival hesitated. "But yes, you are my greatest draw to this place. I've enjoyed seeing you with your friends, but it is here that I can see your courage most plainly. Your friend Helana told me of some of what's happened to you here. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you to come here day after day."
"I've never heard you say so much Percival," Anna commented, at a loss as to what else to say.
"I can be myself with you Anna. I've . . . I've never felt like this with any other woman."
His every word was full of earnestness, and his eyes were anxious to see her reaction. It had always struck Anna that the strongest and largest of the knights should be so quiet and gentle. On impulse, she leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.
"Good King!" Her father cried upon entering the tavern to see three men on the floor surrounded by spilled ale and his daughter behind the bar, kissing a customer. "What did I miss?"
Anna took one look at the amusement and sudden fear shining in Percival eyes and burst out in peals of laughter.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Percival was difficult to write, because at the time I wrote it, all I knew about him was from Season 3's finale! And to answer Shep114's question, Lancelot will have an OC.
And if you didn't like Anna's character, don't worry, All the OCs are different and have their own personalities. Please review if you wish, it makes me happy when you choose to take the time!