Merlynn prepares for her first event and bonds more with her colleagues. Arthur prepares to cope with seeing Merlynn at her first event and is handed a new mission.


The first day at Camelot University passed with scarcely any complications, save one. Whilst collecting her text books and schedule from registration, the Chancellor of the school herself, prevented Merlynn from getting to class, prompting her first tardy. She hauled the witch inside her office and alerted her that her dress was inappropriate. She wore her baby doll dress that day. Granted, it did fall short and a little sheer. But the intention had been to attract attention! If Merlynn copied everyone else she couldn't achieve her goal. In accordance with the chancellor, however, it was too short and too sheer. She rationalized that in University students and faculty need emphasis on their studies and instruction, not the half naked woman. Ergo diverting their attention had been harming them by impairing their education. Merlynn never had desired to harm anyone or impair anything! She was Magic. She had to represent. Naturally, she apologized profusely, which strangely, the chancellor found amusing? The raven forthwith magicked herself a longer hemline and thicker weave. The woman hugged her and christened Merlynn adorable? Needless to say, evidently she was now favored by the head of the university, which could conceivably be advantageous in the future. Well... could never have enough friends and all that. One matter was definite, though, she had to go shopping.

Her major is magical studies. Thereby, her subjects are analogous to magic. With already being Magic, performance is not an obstacle. Mastering spells is her concern. As magic's ambassador it perhaps would behoove her to know what her people use to manipulate the ancient mystic energy. Apart from spell casting, her other classes are unchallenging and tedious. She is already a wizard (pun intended) with potions, healing, magical creatures, curses and subsequently their cures, and obviously execution. She assists and aids wherever required for those subjects. But what she seriously enjoys and the motive of why she's truly there, is the university life, her pupils and professors. Her real lessons in this new world she resides are the society and culture. That is what makes it all meaningful.

When she arrived home she had to speak to Mordred to apprise him of what happened. He needed to be aware she would not be scoring him any honor at University. He, of course was completely understanding and proclaimed she would continue to earn him honor even when dressed conservatively. So sweet. Sadly, she couldn't talk long. She still had to go shopping.

Mercifully, her roommate was free. Merlynn hadn't known where anything was, so she required an escort for the day. Gwen claimed the clothes she purchased were still sexy, but not overtly. They looked nice. She would just have to aclimate. Merlynn presented the outfits to Mordred. He agreed they were enticing, but in a more reserved way. If he was pleased with them, she imagines that's all that matters.

Between school and shopping Merlynn was spent. The girls were elsewhere accomplishing whatnot, and without company the evening was uneventful. She decided to retire for the night. She had a small snack and then a brief shower. Then she slumped into bed and thought of the following day. It was her first event and she would see her King again, this time as the guardian she was born to be. Unfortunately, the king will be there as well. And he required a long night's sleep.

--

When Arthur awakes he feels antsy. He's going to see HER. Part of him desperately wants to, but another part says he needs to stay as far away as he can. Every time he sees her and knows he can't have her, he dies a little more inside. Is that what that phrase means? Killing me softly? Of course he can have her. She said so herself, she was his. He simply can't HAVE her. And that's the crux of it - she's his, but she's not - he has her, but he doesn't - he can have her, but he can't. Bizzaro World, that's what it is. Where everything is the opposite of what it should be. Well, he's NOT going to get up. He DOESN'T have a meeting with his father, and there ISN'T a benefit tonight.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Yes?"

"Master Arthur, your father wanted me to remind you he expects you in his office by one o'clock."

"Thank you, George." Message received.

--

After a gratifying workout and nutritious breakfast Merlynn is prime for the day when she reaches headquarters by nine o'clock. Elena brewed her some caffeinated tea, which she now carried in the stainless steel coffee mug her roommate gifted her. 'Every being on the planet should own one of these. It's pure self-preservation.' By the time the witch arrives at work she couldn't agree more.

Merlynn greets the blonde seated at reception with a brilliant smile. "Good morning, Beverly. Beautiful day!"

"It certainly is. What has you all sprightly?"

"Caffeine." Merlynn raises her tea canister.

"Greatest invention ever!"

"Absolutely!" The receptionist gestures to her own.

She flashes her teeth in response and struts to join her team in the Children's Benefit meeting.

The entire unit is present, including those not commissioned to tonight's function. A peek at the clock confirms she's not late. The majority of what she receives are friendly and polite nods and 'good mornings' broadcasted throughout the room, except for a few glares and sneers. Upon her pseudo brother's entrance, the meeting begins.

"Good morning men." Eyes flick to Merlynn to substantiate she harbors no offense for the gender specific address. She doesn't even blink. "We are going to review assignments and procedures. Those who are staying will train and further your preparations for Switzerland. Also, a social outing has been planned for Saturday for the prince and princess. It, however, is at the princess' flat, so there will be guards there already. As well as Merlynn and I will be there. I do not think additional security is necessary. Finally, the king has had an impromptu meeting scheduled with the prime minister for Friday. She is already heavily guarded, as well as parliament. So I think two Royal Guard will suffice. Bedivere and Pellinore, I think it would be opportune for you to take the assignment. You have not guarded his majesty much, and I think it's necessary for you to familiarize yourself with his detail." Both men bow in acknowledgement. "That's all I have. Are there any questions?"

Kay, the tallest, easily over two meters, and robust member of the team snaps his wrist up, adequate to grab everyone's attention. Merlynn recalls he was indifferent to her enlistment. "We have marshaled the standard number of Guards for this nature of event. However, the media surrounding the prince has been crazy since last Saturday. Are we sure we don't need additional security?" He turns his attention to Merlynn. "How have you not been ambushed by fanatical paparazzi?"

"I've been spelled," she professes plainly, while continuing to savor her tea. "It was something I did before I came to the UK. I am well aware that people will be interested in me as the Emrys. I cannot do my job properly for the prince if I am continuously approached," she declares, not haughtily, just truth.

Geraint, another hulk of a colleague, second only to Kay and equally indifferent, poses a logical question. "If you can do that for yourself, why not for his highness? Wouldn't that make your job easier?"

"It would, but easier is not always right. Because there are laws. Freedom of the press. The royal family are all considered public figures, and as such the press has rights to question their actions. I protect his life, not prevent his aggravation. I could shelter him from everyone, but citizens have rights to their future King. I may be The Emrys, but my only obligation is to his security." Merlynn's squad is impressed. She has solid, insightful reasoning for why she doesn't persistently intervene with her magic. She values human rights and free will. The Royal Guard are discovering more and more this woman is worthy of her power.

Following his own moment of silence their leader breaks them from their musing. "Anymore questions?"

"I have a couple I'd like to ask Ms. Ambrose," voices Pellinore as he studies his newest teammate. She's reminded she tagged him friendly at the sight of his double dimples. "I've heard you say you're The Emrys, but everyone calls you Emrys. Why the difference?"

She dips her head, hands folded and resting on the table in front of her while she strokes her thumbs. She speaks low, a somber inflection to her voice. "Merlynn is my name. Emrys is a title. I am addressed as that by most, because all that matters to them is the power, not the person. Very few people even know my name." Her team reflects on her words, realizing power and notoriety... prescriptions for loneliness.

Leon creeps behind her as she's lost in thought and lays his hand on her shoulder. Slightly startled, she swivels to face him. With a tender smile he states, "Well, I for one am quite honored to know Merlynn."

She scans the room; understanding and benevolence reflect back to her. Even her hostiles regard her as if seeing her for the first time. Interesting. Maybe she'll turn them yet. She requites her comrades kindness with an affectionate bow and salute.

Pellinore interrupts the moment. "Um... sorry, but I have one last question, promise." Merlynn indicates for him to proceed. "You say you're guarding your King, but you protect the prince."

Ah, she figured this question was coming. "My King is and has always been Arthur Pendragon. Before any of you think that is treason then know that I am not a citizen of the United Kingdom." She's not going to divulge her citizenship with Ambrosia. Too many questions lead to extended answers and she's sure Leon wants to move along. "I know only official residents are allowed to be in Royal Guard. The king has made an exception for me. As he contended in an interview. 'Who would turn away omnipotent security?'" Her tone isn't arrogant; it's bitter. This woman is a conundrum they weren't expecting. Silence imbues the air as they ponder on their new teammate.

Once again, Leon disturbs their ruminating. "Alright then, everyone. Moving on. Only those assigned to this evening's detail stay. The rest of you, you know what to do." After five men exit the room Leon explains the agenda for the day. "Merlynn, on days of events we all meet in the morning for a quick review of the evening's postings. After the meeting, each member has a brief session on the mats and with weapons to keep skills fresh, contingent upon their necessity for the evening. Not long after that we make our way to the venue and inspect the premises. Once cleared, we collect our royals, and the evening begins. Does anyone have anything to add or Merlynn, do you have any questions?" Leon takes stock of each of them searching for any confusion. Seven heads wag in reply.

Leon tosses a packet before each of them. The unit randomly opens them and browses their contents. "Division has vetted all the guests. These are their names, photos, and short dossiers. I don't expect you to memorize them, but it's smart to enlighten yourselves of the faces allowed in attendance, as it will help you recognize the ones who aren't." His eyes shift indiscriminately to ensure everyone's focus. But now they are trained on Owain for specific instruction. "Owaine, I do expect you to take extra time as your post is the entrance." Leon attains a head bow in confirmation. "Quick reminder." Their leader breaks down individual placements. "Gareth you are responsible for the princess. I will be with the king. Lucan, you are on the veranda doors. Lamorak, you have the press. Pellinore and Galahad you have guests. And of course Merlynn has the prince. As always, we all keep eyes out for anyone. Your posts will hold more of your attention, that's all. Everyone needs to pick up your coms from supplies." Leon glances at the time. "It is ten hundred now. You have three hours to review your folders, get in some training, grab lunch, and no skipping; we all need to be in tip top shape for tonight, shower, and grab your coms. Wheels up at thirteen hundred. Any questions?" With Leon's stern mood, no one dare question anything. "You're dismissed."

The "first knight" strides from the conference room while the night's detail remains. They organize a training schedule so there's no overlap in each specialty. Merlynn's already had her morning workout, so the weight room isn't essential for her. From ten hundred - ten forty-five she's scheduled for the firing range, ten forty-five - eleven thirty she has combat training, eleven thirty - twelve fifteen is weapons, that gives her forty-five minutes to shower, eat and review the vetted guests. Leon said they had to be at the venue by fourteen hundred, which affords her time in the van to peruse the packet. Now that the day as been laid out it is time to get changed.

--

The previous day Arthur managed to ignore his infatuation, schedule consumed with princely duties. With the rising sun, however, the raven beauty flooded his thoughts once again, hitting him like a freight train. How can he focus on the speech he still needs to write, when he knows in just a few short hours he'll come face to face with his soulmate again? After George interrupted his thoughts this morning reminding him of a conference with his father, he hardly ate any breakfast. The staff mistakenly assumed it was nerves related to his speech. Seriously? He's the crown prince. Public speaking is in his blood. No, his anxiousness pertained to an all powerful witch with a heart as pure as snow. Morgana tried speaking with him, but in her personal sweet Morgana way, her "encouragement" morphed into a warning. He's well aware there will never be anything more than friendship between them. AKA torture. He has his mantra running on a repetitive loop through his mind. He doesn't need it forcibly reiterated to him by a well meaning but meddling harpy. MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND. See, he's got this. His anguish is not conducive to an appetite, however, so he ends up skipping lunch, as well. Which is probably a good thing, since he has a meeting with his father now. Never a good idea to eat before a meeting with the king.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Come in." The young royal enters his father's domain. "Ah, Arthur, please come in and sit down." The prince parks himself on the hard leather. It's deliberately slightly painful with it's straight back, no armrests, and lack of cushion. 'You always want your guests uncomfortable, Arthur. Keeps them discomfitted and gives you an advantage in the discussion.' It also rides lower than standard to ensure the king's dominance is established before the meeting begins. Rather than portraying superiority, Arthur views it as weakness. He's virtually declaring his objective is flawed and he has to resort to psychological warfare, so they don't realize it. It's absurd and makes him look ridiculous.

One more strategy he will no longer be implementing. He hopes the public and his constituents honor him out of respect, not these idiotic manipulation tactics. No, whatever Arthur has to say will have enough strength behind it; these devious methods will not be needed. And if he cannot persuade his fellow associates, Arthur can admit he's wrong. It is an imbecil who can't.

"Allright father, I'm here. What is this about?"

"Arthur, as you are the crown prince and basically training to be future king, you will be privy to certain issues that arise and participate in discussions as such." He states with authority. He says everything with authority. Arthur doesn't think the man even knows how to speak normally.

"I am aware father." What is happening? It's obviously important. The king is especially eager today.

"In short, new land has been discovered, and nations are battling for it. Not war, as of yet, but let's just say conversations have been heated."

"Conversations have already been had? How long have these conversations been going on?"

"About a month ago national powers were informed of the discovery. We've been in deliberations ever since."

"Father, if I am supposed to be privy of national issues then why am I only being told now? I am finishing a masters in diplomacy and one in politics. I could have helped." Arthur is irritated. This is another way his father asserts this alpha bullshit, withholding information. These are Arthur's people, his nation. A land dispute will have significant impact on his reign.

"You're being told now. Don't be petty Arthur. This is not about you feeling left out. You need to grow up, so we can discuss this like men. No, royalty and the men of power that we are. Are you finished with your temper tantrum now, so I can give you more details on the issue?"

Arthur grits his teeth. Another way Uther keeps him subverted is by treating him like a child. It's an emotional game.The idea is that if he makes him feel like a child, then he will always do what he says or fall in line with his policies to get his approval. And he has fallen for it for years. Morgana tried to tell him, but he simply thought she was being rebellious against his father. It took fucking Stan Lee to wake him up! He is the bigger fool. He's not worthy of being the Once and Future King.

He's not worthy of Merlynn. Maybe that's why she doesn't feel it. They've got the wrong guy. Maybe it's this Mordred. She certainly feels it with him. Maybe the reason he feels so lured to her is because, well... it's pretty obvious by anyone with eyes that the woman is gorgeous! He's certainly not the only man that's been attracted to her, demonstrated by all the damn sparks Saturday night. But, it's more than physical attraction; it goes deeper. But maybe it's a subliminal thing. The way she was talking she made it sound like she was his in EVERY way, and it sunk so deep because he got it in his head too fast that it was a done deal. Maybe the Once and Future King isn't a king at all. Maybe it's metaphorical. Maybe Merlynn chooses the king. She would make a wonderful queen, her heart, her mind. It's not like she doesn't have power. She doesn't want to dominate; she wants equality and peace. Under her rule, and subsequently her king, they could be just what the UK has always needed, his father and him to abdicate.

That's indeed something he'll have to table, ruminate on it later. Now, he needs to deal with his father. "I'm fine father. Please continue."

The king doesn't address Arthur's attitude anymore. "About one month ago new land was unearthed, practically in the center of the Pacific between the United States and China. Scientists believe all the natural disasters caused such significant disturbances this land came about."

It's like Uther's some bond villain rubbing his hands together. Mwah ha ha ha. The blonde rolls his eyes. "If the land was created by so many natural disasters then wouldn't that make the area... volatile?" It's a legitimate question.

"We aren't looking to develop it. We want it for it's resources. Oil and natural gas Arthur. If we got our hands on it... I shouldn't have to tell you how significant that would be."

"What if it's too dangerous?"

"Land is power Arthur. Never forget that, even useless land. Look at Russia. The majority of it, uninhabitable. Just because they own all that useless space, they are monsters on the map. Their power is their footprint. If we annexed this new land our footprint would expand, as well as us having two different locations on the globe. It gives the impression we're everywhere. Even if we can't mine it. It will change our position on the list of world powers." The look his father has is maniacal.

Arthur clears his throat. "Father if footprint is all that matters then why don't we just annex Antarctica?" His father glowers at him like he's crazy. Good. It's a crazy idea. Maybe this shows the king still possesses some common sense.

"Law of supply and demand, Arthur. Value is always determined by demand. And everyone wants this land, and therefore, we want this land. Many nations are vying for it but our competition is America, China, Russia, and India. We already have a disadvantage because it's located between the States and China. We aren't really even being considered. But that's why we'll win! We're the underdog, and everyone loves an underdog, and no one will see us coming."

Do you know what it reminds Arthur of? Children fighting over a toy not because of the toy but because the other one wants it. This is adult daycare bullshit. Hopefully the prime minister sees sense. But, for now father is the king so... "What do you want me to do?"

"We need an edge, Arthur. Something that others will envy us for. So that is your assignment. Find me an edge. Other members are already searching. But I'm hoping my boy won't let me down."

Arthur's eyes narrow. Another shrewd scheme he never detected before. Shit, he always thought it was a sign that his father was trusting him! Idiot. Well he is still the king. "As you wish, Your Majesty." And he bows and leaves. Unfortunately for father, he will be letting him down. He will be letting him down a lot in the near future, and Arthur only has one thing to say to that. It's about damn time!

--

Merlynn is able to scan the packet on route to the venue. Her magic affects her memory, giving her an advantage. It isn't long before she completes a thorough review. She elects to utilize the freed time to become acquainted with the Guard.

Merlynn speaks with Owaine first. He has ink black hair and a stocky build. He's also a stereotypical Italian with a flirtatious flair. He keeps his distance, though. He was present Saturday night and has eyewitness knowledge when one doesn't. He also has a close relationship with his mother and two sisters. She can definitely classify him a friendly.

Next is Gareth. She also deems him a friendly by virtue of his kindheartedness and how he conducts himself with her comparable to the rest of the squad. His demeanor is sober and intense, which suggests ex-military. He keeps his personal life private, barring a serious girlfriend, whom he would marry except for her vehement beliefs against marriage. His appearance is similar to Owaine, but two entirely distinct personalities.

Lucan is definitively indifferent. He's guarded and purely professional. He's fit like the rest with a lithe frame and chestnut hair. Despite his desire to remain aloof she did detect interest in her life when it was her time to divulge.

Lamorak clearly desires to be her new best friend, therefore, labeled a friendly. Unless her gaydar is short-circuiting, he has a preference for men, showing her her team promotes acceptance. He's an orphan. One of his friend's fathers sort of adopted him as a child. He has four mates that, outside of Guard, he socializes with regularly. He's tall with another svelte build as Lucan, mousy brown hair.

Then there is Pellinore, who is tall and centered between stocky and slender. Additionally, the resident genius with a masters in, something she can't recall, and considering a doctorate while still employed as Guard. He has a sister he adores, parents he barely tolerates, and a fiance. He tends to be shy, but overall, a friendly.

Last is Galahad sho sparred with her during evaluation. Already proven a friendly. Despite his cheerful manner, his life is a bit tragic. He has no family and his close relationships are nomads that wander in and out of his life. He mainly only interacts with the Guard and frequently requests extra postings.

After an overview of her fellow comrades, Merlynn imparts some aspects of her own life. She is still navigating this new world's social norms, so she felt it prudent to limit her revelations to the same elements the others disclosed. She was adopted. She loves her parents. She has a fiance (age left unsaid), has friends both old and new and she's been training forever to guard Arthur. She reiterates the prophecy, but some already knew.

By the time they finish their 'getting to know you' session they arrive at the venue.

Once Owaine parks, Leon is the first out of the van. "Alright men, right now we search the premises. You all should know the layout by now after studying your folders."

The Royal Guard proceeds to exit the vehicle while staying attentive to their leader's words. Once everyone emerges and the door is shut, the team arranges themselves around the "first knight," some leaning into the van, a couple propped against a nearby lamppost, and a few fully upright on their feet.

Leon examines his men with pride in his heart. He couldn't ask for a better outfit. They adhere to directives and instruction effortlessly and without protest. They are highly trained and skilled in their profession. His only concerns, that until recently, he had none, are Hector's and Bohrs' views of magic. He did sense what could have been respect developing during the morning meeting, however. He will have to keep an eye on it.

"Just a quick review. There are three ballrooms. The benefit is in the Starlight which is the first one across from the entrance. There are five bathrooms - two men's, two women's, and one family restroom which anyone can use. Pellinore and Galahad, you will need to keep an eye on those. Kitchen's are on the back east side of the building. There are no stairs, so we won't have to trouble ourselves with that, but there is a veranda on the south side which is our ballroom." The Guard captain single claps as his eyes dart between them. "That's all I've got. Does anyone have any questions?"

Merlynn straightens from leaning on the van. "I have something." Leon gestures for her to carry on. "I would like to spell myself." The team is intrigued. "It's called Unremarkable. Basically the only people that can see me will be all of you, the prince, and Morgana. Anyone else, will brush right over me not acknowledging my existence. I will be unremarkable. The only reason you all could see me is because you'll be looking for me. Those who don't know me won't know to look."

Leon observes bewildered looks on his men's faces. This could be a golden opportunity for Merlynn to exhibit some of her magic, prove herself the valuable asset he knows she is. "Merlynn could you give us a demonstration?" His lips curl smugly in anticipation of the team's reactions. Very few have seen what she's capable of.

"Of course," Merlynn complies. Effortlessly, without skipping a beat, she rolls her hand as her eyes glow, until her palm faces the sky. A magazine materializes. She thumbs through the pages until she finds what she's looking for. The raven's completely oblivious of her team keenly watching her, utterly absorbed. She lays her hand over a designated photo. This time she lets her eyelids fall shut. You can only decipher the witch's spell casting by the tiny beams escaping from under her lashes. When she is finished she examines the picture.

With a satisfied grin she passes the periodical to Lamorak, who holds it suspiciously until drawing it closer. The men crowd around him, scrutinizing the photo for any oddity. "Examine it thoroughly," she insists. It's a picture of a sporting event, specifically of a group of maybe twenty fans in the stands cheering. After a moment Lamorak tries to pass the magazine back. But she shakes her hands refusing it.

"I don't get it. I don't see anything," Galahad says.

Merlynn's lips turn up and eyes narrow knowingly. She crosses her arms and nods to the photo. "What if I told you that's a picture of the prince and princess?"

They yank the magazine centered between them in disbelief. They don't have to look closely. The two royals are the clear focus of the photo.

"That's amazing!" the Italian lethario crows.

"It really is! And you didn't use any spells. All sorcerers I've seen say words first," Lamorak says.

"I don't know any spells. Never needed them."

Some look at her awestruck, others curiously. Leon is proud. He knew she was extraordinary. He's happy others can see it too.

A little uncomfortable with all the staring Merlynn returns to her previous request. "Anyway, I think it's better if people don't know I'm Emrys, and I can work from the shadows."

Leon agrees with her. Her as Emrys is too much of a distraction. Even though, because of her other spell, no one will approach her, they'll still know she's there. It also might be a good strategic move. People will probably let their guard down. "I'm in agreement with this plan. Does anyone have any objections or concerns?"

"Wouldn't it be better if people did know? If they knew the almighty Emrys was on duty wouldn't they be less likely to do anything?" Pellinore has a point. But then so does Gareth.

"You'd be surprised. Saturday night she had her obvious high ranking gauntlets on, stopped a knife inches from his highness' chest and teleported to the bastard. After all that, the guy still tried to fight her. He didn't even have magic!"

"Sometimes hatred runs so deep it overrides common sense. And there are a lot of magic users that hate Uther," Merlynn affirms.

"Do you hate the king?" It's Lucan who hasn't said a word to her. She can't determine by the tone of the question what he's wanting to hear. This answer could tip the scales on his indifference. Regardless, honesty is the best policy, right?

I do not hate Uther. I don't like to think I'm capable of true hate. Hate is the dark evil that plagues society, not magic. I am not a fan of Uther for sure. I do have to say I have never suffered under his rule. I only recently came to the UK. Stories I've heard... I can sympathize with what my people have gone through. However, murder is not the answer, and I will prevent my people from doing so. Magic is neither good nor bad. It's the user that decides what direction they go with it. My mission is to guard my King and show society magic can be good. Every time there is a magical attack it sets me back. So no, I will not let my people use violence against the non-magic people, not if I can help it." Lucan considers her and awards her an approving smile. She thinks she can now reclassify him as a friendly.

In fact, she's receiving a combination of smiles and nods, with Leon the proud papa.

"So, does this mean I can do the spell?" she petitions. Leon confirms it with the rest of the group.

"You can do the spell." He pats her on the back.

Merlynn then lays a hand over her chest and closes her eyes. Nothing happens.

"Ah, we can still see you," Lamorak notes.

"Yes, but he can't." She's pointing in the direction of one of the caterer employees. She validates her claim when she scuttles to the curb where he's unloading catering trays. She prances around said individual. "Hello kind sir. Mind telling me what's on the menu tonight?" Nothing. No response. Merlynn has to dodge out of the way before the two collide.

The group is standing planted to the ground, staggered. "Thats incredible. It includes sound?!" Leon exclaims.

Merlynn just shrugs coyly.

"Well alright then. Everyone split up. Merlynn, you're with me. Let's clear this place out."

--

Reflected in the mirror Arthur is tackling his tie. Left. Right. Fold here. He sighs in frustration. If he were at his own flat, he'd be able to tie the damn thing, but no, the prince and princess are still required to ready for public royal events at the palace. Other than this final piece, his formal wear is complete. His hair is styled, brushed across his forehead. He applies some cologne after his shave. He's now adjusting his cuff links.

"Knock, knock, dear brother." Morgana waltzes into the blonde's childhood room and flops down on the bed, something she probably shouldn't be doing in a fitted, floor length evening gown. The wine red strapless has a slit running up the side reaching mid-thigh. Matching four inch stilettos hang loosely from her fingers. Her hair is secured in an updo with tendrils swinging from the sides. "Here, let me do it." She begrudgingly pushes herself off the mattress aiming to aid her helpless brother. "Honestly Arthur, how many tuxedos have you worn? You'd think you'd know how to tie a bow tie by now." She steps back to examine her work. "Good. You'll be the bell of the ball," she razzes the young prince.

"Mm hmm. What brings you to my humble abode, dear sister?" His eyes squint suspiciously.

"What? Can't a sister help her brother out?" He eyes her incredulously. "Fine, I just wanted to make sure you have your priorities straight."

"Hmm?" What? He has a speech, that's all. He has no ulterior motives. Nope, he doesn't. He doesn't!

"Merlynn, Arthur. Don't play dumb with me. You know very well, 'hmm'. I know she's going to be there, and you have such a hard on for her you could hammer nails," she phrases bluntly.

"Morgana, don't be crude. It doesn't become you. You already talked to me today. Why the second lecture?"

"I think you need two. I've never seen you like this before Arthur. I'm a little concerned," she expresses genuinely.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door was ajar, but the staff know it's unsuitable entering a room without permission. "Master Arthur, Mistress Morgana, the Royal Guard. He is here to escort you to the benefit.

Thats odd. Shouldn't there be two? "Are you sure there wasn't another, George? The prince and I normally each have our own."

"There was only a gentleman present, Your Highness." After being dismissed he bows and marches away.

"Maybe she's already there?" Morgana suggests.

"I'm fine, Morgana. Can we go please?" He's shoving her out of his room. He's not fine, but no one needs to know that. He's not sure if he's upset Merlynn isn't there or relieved. Not thinking, he almost forgets his tuxedo jacket but remembers last minute, and snatches it from where it's strewn over the back of his chez, then rushes to join Morgana.

They make a quick detour to her old room to fetch her shawl, a sheer silk wrap that is not at all meant for warmth. With their arms linked Arthur gracefully guides his sister down to the waiting Guards. Wait a minute. Guards? He spots Merlynn and his face lights up as unstoppable as a jet ascending off the runway. George has a bewildered expression across his face when he glimpses Arthur's line of vision.

"Shall we?" Merlynn exits first. Understandable. She's new and doesn't understand protocol yet. Arthur watches her scoot in to the far side of the limo. Morgana is next. Somehow, despite the evening gown, she elegantly slides in to the other side. The Guard, Gareth if he recalls, signals for Arthur to take his place next to Merlynn... If only. Finally he installs himself next to his sister.

"So. Merlynn." The princess abhors silence. "George said you weren't here. We thought you might have already been at the venue."

"About that..." She straightens her back as if to say 'listen up.' "Only you, the prince, and my team can see me." Merlynn eyes them for understanding. "We didn't think it was a wise idea for people to know Emrys is there," she explains.

Gareth interjects. "It's a strategic move. It's always smart to hide your secret weapon."

Merlynn winces at the label. Her head drops, and her hands fold in her lap.

Arthur notices. "Merlynn is not a weapon. She is a woman of wisdom and skills. She has a heart of honor and compassion that drive her to use her gifts for the good of mankind." Eyes now peering into his witch's own. "She's amazing." Merlynn beams and... is that a tear?

"Of course. It's not just magic her skills are in. She is quite impressive on the mats and with weaponry. She's certainly the whole package." The other Royal Guard grins and nods in respect.

Her lips curve to the left and her eyes squint. She playfully nudges his leg with her foot. "Oh you..."

Arthur doesn't like it. She should not be touching him! Especially, when he's talking about how good she is on the mats. He'd like to get her on the mats, and then like to get on her on the mats. Morgana sees him glaring at the action and kicks him, not playfully.

Unaware of the tension, Merlynn proceeds. "The spell is called Unremarkable. How it works is that the only people who know me can see me, because they will actually search for me. If you don't look, then you won't see. Your father will know I'm there, but he won't see me, because we've never met and he won't know who to look for. I'll be unremarkable." She flits her eyes back and forth between them. "Make sense?"

Arthur likes the idea of Merlynn basically invisible to everyone but them. "Wait a minute! That's why George didn't see you." Arthur remembers his staff's expression. "George looked at me like I was crazy when I spotted Merlynn behind him."

"Good, so now you've seen it in action. I highly suggest you don't speak with me as you'll appear mad."

"Would you mind teaching it to me?" Morgana leans like she's waiting for story time. "It would be helpful when out in public."

Merlynn's lips wave and brows furrow contrite. It's not the first time she can't help a fellow magical due to her lack of knowledge. Everyone automatically assumes that since she's Emrys she knows everything about magic. In truth she probably knows the least. Why her clan refused to teach her spells she'll never know. They insisted on only focusing on developing her instincts, using magic like muscle memory. Even all her spell books. It's like they enchanted them or something. She has eidetic memory, so she should be able to recall everything she's read. But it seems all her tombs from Ambrosia are only for her magic. She can't tell you what the spell is, but when necessary her magic activates it. It makes sense, she supposes. She may revert back to an infant when her King dies every life, but her magic doesn't. Her magic has stored fifteen hundred years of knowledge. Hence, why she's yet to find any limitations on what she's capable of. So she's grateful they emphasized her instincts. When it comes to intuitive magic, she's easily unmatched. But in circumstances such as this, she feels she should be able to aid her people. As far as she's concerned she should always be available to assist them. Outside of her duty to her King, obviously. It just feels wrong that Magic herself can't help others with theirs. So regrettably... "I'm sorry, Morgana. I don't know spells. I've never used them. It's one of the few things I'm actually learning in uni. I think I could find out, though." That's the least she can do.

The princess brightens in possibility. "That would be great!" Morgana glances at Arthur before she changes the subject. "Say Merlynn." She tries to attain her attention again as the raven had already leaned back into her seat, peering out the window. Once Merlynn's focus has returned to the royal, she must confirm... "You're planning on coming Saturday, right?"

Merlynn grins enthusiastically. "Oh yes! I want to actually meet everyone, not just faces and names."

She's now shifting in her seat, eyes on Morgana, not realizing the prince's eyes on her. It's like his Merlynn's awaking from stasis with the sudden countenance lifting.

"Oh good. We were worried you wouldn't want to come. Not with the way everything went down with Arthur."

Morgana knows perfectly well that he and Merlynn dealt with things. What is she playing at?

"Well we worked everything out on Monday. Right Arthur? We're friends now, aren't we?"

She implies knowing the answer, but there's a hint of doubt that needs reassurance. Arthur clears his throat and adjusts himself on the limo's bench. "Um... yes. Right... friends. He attempts a friendly smile, but he's sure everyone but Merlynn can see it's forced.

"See." Merlynn flashes her teeth at Morgana. "Nothing to keep me away."

"That's good, because you're kind of the uh... guest of honor?" She's not confident Merlynn would be comfortable with that or not.

There conversation is halted with the deceleration of the car. Behold, there's a large opulent building with an old world ambiance on the left following a line of hedges for privacy. The meticulous carvings in the masonry circle the property.

As the limousine drives into the lot and crawls towards the entrance, Gareth starts issuing instructions. "Okay, when the car stops I will exit first, then come around and let Her Highness out, then His Highness and finally Merlynn. Merlynn, you will have to be as close to the prince as possible when you come out. It will look odd if I hold the door open too long."

"I'll be on him like glue."

Arthur closes his eyes and goes chin to chest at her choice of phrasing, then blows out a deep breath. MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND.

Gareth taps the com in his ear. "Lamorak, we have the prince and princess. Are you ready with the press? Over."

Both Merlynn and Gareth hear his response. "Ready. The carpet is clear, and the barriers are placed accordingly. If they can pause for a photo or two we can have them inside pretty quick. His Majesty is already there. Over."

Gareth looks back at both royals. "He's ready. The press is secured by the barrier. If you could pause for a couple photos then you won't be out here for long. The sooner you're inside the better. The king is already here."

He exits the limo and scurries around the back to open the door for the princess.

And the night officially commences with a stiletto on the pavement.