BAMF, BAMF, BAMF, BAMF, BAMF
Merlynn is plastered to the prince as they exit the vehicle. She then veers off away from the crowd, watching her King from a distance.
"Your Highness, over here! Can we get a photo?"
The two royals pose themselves centered in the walkway, falsely smiling and waving to the irritating press. Wait for it... "Long enough, let's go." Morgana, in her graceful, shrewd way swings them around to escape the sharks, like the trained princess she is.
Gareth escorts them inside with Merlynn distantly behind them. Arthur can sense her. That has to mean something, right? The luxury that greets him is throughout the whole lobby, matching the exterior, from the plush, red carpet and the painted murals on the ceiling, the whole place screams money. The light from the two, substantial size chandeliers make the walls appear as if they are sparkling. He spots Merlynn off to his far right. The light on her face twinkles. She looks positively ethereal, the ghost of an angel.
The wooden, ornate doors of the Starlight Ballroom swing open for the royals, announcing their presence. The ceilings draw your eyes first with their towering heights, much taller than the lobby's. More crystal chandeliers hang from the barely vaulted roof. On his left is a glossy, walnut, open bar. On the right are two pairs of glass doors opening to a veranda. The buffet itself sits next to the stage along the wall across from the entrance. Waiters are dispersed, walking around offering guests either champagne or hors d'oeuvres.
In short, the whole place is pretentious, status symbol bullshit, and Arthur hates it all! It's all about impressions and fake. He wants real. Merlynn is real. Ha, a fucking all powerful witch is more real. How messed up is that? Speaking of... He finds his witch watching him from the top of the veranda doors. It's her job. Not interest. She doesn't want Arthur THAT way, and Arthur has to restrain himself from seducing her. Aargh! MERLYNN IS MY BODYGUARD AND PLATONIC FRIEND.
"Arthur! Morgana!" Shit! His father... and his circle of high-and-mighty business associates... nice... with their equally arrogant spawn. Arthur steels himself for the evening with a deep breath... Let the pony show begin.
"Oh God," Morgana whines and leans in. "Think he'll try and set us up again?"
"Hope not. I'm not interested."
"Of course not, you only have eyes for a certain raven haired bodyguard."
She ribs, but Arthur doesn't find it funny. He's really hurting and trying to keep functioning despite his unrequited love. He's barely holding it together.
Morgana notices he's not responding with their usual banter. "Hey? Are you okay?" She questions him concerned.
He hasn't been looking at her or looking at anyone, just sort of floating wherever he's lead. This time... he looks. "No, I'm not Morgana. I don't just have some crush. I'm in love with her. When I can't be around her I feel like I can't breathe, but at the same time being around her is like a knife to the gut. I can't win, perpetually miserable, and I would appreciate if you would stop teasing me about it." He lets go of her and flounces away, ignoring his father's calls and leaving behind a very guilt-ridden princess.
Merlynn can see something is wrong with her King. He's actually been off all evening. Was he just arguing with his sister? She wants to comfort him, but he'd seem mad. She will protect his reputation as much as his life. Unfortunately, his emotional well-being will always be second to his safety, and she has a job to do.
On their search of the premises she was responsible for searching for anything magical. There wasn't any outside of the six staff from the caterers and hall. She read their dossiers. No one over copper. She thought that was unusual. She had thought there were more, stronger magic users than that. Until Leon explained it's harder for powerful users finding a job. So it isn't that there are less, powerful sorcerers. No, the caterers and hall won't hire them. Sad.
Additionally, she has to watch the attendees. There are twelve magical among the guests. All low-grade power, bar one. He's silver, but it's for healing gifts, so she guesses he's deemed acceptable. She doesn't detect any bad intentions from any of the users. Too weak to do anything, anyway.
Scanning the room, she doesn't spot much prejudice. The guests with gauntlets are conversing just as much as the ones without. Could be about donations. Not wanting to offend anyone with a deeper wallet. Either way, it's refreshing to see. The king might be the only bigot in the room. Where is he?... looking... looking... found him!
She notices a blonde man speaking with his majesty, and her heckles rise. He doesn't have magic. She can sense it, so why...? And then he spins around... Blagh! Aredian. What's he doing at a children's benefit?! They are both talking with another man that looks just as slimey. Tall, black hair that he also wears slicked back. What's up with all creeps slicking their hair back. Even Bohrs slicks his hair. There must be a manual somewhere.
She needs to find HER King. He's her charge. Utilizing their soul bond, she tracks him down next to the stage. Upon further inspection, she realizes he's reviewing his speech and still avoiding his father. At least he's hidden. Makes it much easier to protect him.
With Arthur safe semi tucked away, she takes the opportunity to check in with her team. "Any problems? Over."
"None to speak of. At least no one's reported any to me. His Majesty's been in the same spot all evening, so I've barely even moved. Over."
"Who's the dark haired guy? They all look thick as thieves. Over."
"You aren't that far off. And let me tell ya, when those three get together... nothing good. Over."
"Wonderful. Over." She observes the three men. It's clear they are plotting something. Of course men like that always are. They wouldn't know what to do with themselves if they weren't breaking others down. She's pulled from her thoughts by a seemingly urgent communication via the coms.
"Hey, I've got something really weird going on out here. Over."
"What's happening, Owaine? Over." Leon's all captain now.
"I don't know how to describe it. It's almost like my vision's going bad... It's like... like everything's starting to get all wavy... Like funhouse mirrors! Over."
Oh no... "Owaine, are the waves vertical or horizontal? Over." Don't panic, Merlynn. Cool and collected in a crisis. The Three C's.
"Uh... horizontal. Over."
It's an illusion glamour. There's only one reason someone would be casting a phantasm on the building, and it isn't good. "Owaine, casually make your way inside as if you're following a routine assignment." Breathe and find your King, Merlynn.
"Merlynn? Merlynn? What's going on? Over."
Where are you? 'Merlynn?!' Shit! "Uh... magic, sir. Its a glamour. If the waves were vertical it would be a shield. But this is an illusion. Whoever cast the spell does not want anyone knowing what's happening here. Over." Merlynn is gradually becoming more frantic as she continues her hunt. Aargh! Goddess, find my King... there!
Boom!
The doors are blasted open, sending shrapnel to those in the vicinity. Luckily there aren't many as who would be lingering by the exit this early in the evening. Once the remains of the Starlight's palatial gates settle, in walk twelve magicks, callously stepping over the scattered debris. They all carry automatic rifles despite having powers. "They're all magic. Stand down. Let me handle this. Over." Leon gives a tight nod in agreement. Silver and gold gauntlets are dispersed among them. So powerful, huh? Well, they ain't seen nothing yet.
Three of the men's eyes flare as they mumble under their breath. The guests and Guard are magically shoved to the perimeter walls, then pinned. All are trapped... bar Merlynn, of course.
"Lovely party everyone, may we join you?"
Who must be the leader is a husky, broad-shouldered man with shoulder-length hair and a close-shaven beard. He honestly could be Gwaine's older brother. All except for the devilish grin.
"Sorry to interrupt, but we have some business to tend to with the royal family." He scans the room and finds Uther, Arthur, and Morgana huddled together amongst the guests. He magically plucks them from the crowd and drags them to the center of the floor with eleven additional sorcerers circling. Three are facing the royals. The guests and Guard stare down the gun barrels of the other nine.
"Uther Pendragon. It is an honor to finally meet you face to face. Well, honor isn't really the right word, is it? Burden is better. Yes, it is quite loathsome to be in the same building as you, let alone the same room. But hey, take one for the team. You have been a scourge on this society for too long, Uther Pendragon, and you must be stopped. What you have done to your own citizens..." He raises his arms gesturing to the cuffs that don his wrists. "With these gauntlets you tag us like cattle. Yes, this lovely jewelry you force us to wear... They shut doors for employment, education, make us pariahs to our neighbors. We are ostracized from the public like we're wild animals. The more powerful can barely feed our families. We are policed like we are already in prison. But that's it, isn't it, Pendragon? You have made our home and our country our prison, a prison of your making. Well no more! Tonight we'll rid the world of the true poison that is you... but first you must suffer."
One of the users yanks Morgana from the center. "Get your hands off of me, pig!"
Merlynn hears the princess struggling with the man who has ahold of her. She watches her King try to snatch his sister back, helplessly attempting to release his feet that are supernaturally fixed to the floor.
Just a little patience, Arthur. She's got this.
Leon observes Merlynn travel along the perimeterof the scene between the magicals and those stilled against the wall, with her eyes shining gold and her arms spread wide. What is she doing? He knows it has to be something big. She wouldn't take her eyes off Arthur for anything. She eventually ceases whatever magic she was creating and turns all of her attention on them.
'Don't speak and don't move.' What the hell is that! It sounds like Merlynn, but like she's speaking in a microphone. He can see her from where he's stuck to the border's wainscoting. Her lips are moving, so... all right then. 'Don't acknowledge my voice at all. You are free now, but we can't let the sorcerers know that.' Wha.. ? Seriously? 'They must still believe they have the upper hand. I have placed a shield in between you and them. If they see movement or talking they will know it is there. On my signal the Guard will escort you out.' He twitches his pinky hidden behind a guest. Bloody hell! He's free! Leon stares, gawking at this tiny woman who holds so much power. Then he watches her turn her eyes on her King, and the first knight fights to restrain a smug grin. Oh, this is gonna be good.
The leader now has Uther, penning him with an arm wrapped loosely around his neck. Morgana is still bridled aslant of the main confrontation, and fiercely trying to escape her captor. And they are all facing... Arthur.
"You see Pendragon. You have hurt our kind for so long. Well we say 'we're done!' That's why we've separated her highness. She's one of us, and doesn't deserve to live under your tyranny anymore."
"Leave Arthur alone! He is not Uther! He supports me!"
"I'm sorry my princess. But Uther must experience a taste of the misery we have endured under his reign. Ourpeople must have justice."
"Murdering an unarmed innocent isn't justice!" she wails.
It's all right, Morgana. She's here.
The man turns his focus back to the king, disregarding the witch's cries. "You see Uther, magic can kill, but it can also heal. Just like how this knife," He draws a dagger from a hidden pocket. "...this knife can chop vegetables or carve wooden figurines." He leans in to stage whisper. "It can also murder." And he flings the blade directly at Arthur's chest, who's standing wide-eyed and helpless. But the sharpened steel doesn't penetrate. Huh? The leader might as well have thrown a spoon with how effective that was.
Everyone is shocked, staring at a dagger now laying on the floor that should be embedded in the prince's heart.
The man tries to pass the failure off as a joke, but it falls flat. "Hmm? Must be getting rusty. No matter. I've got something else in the goody bag." This time he pulls a pistol from his belt. "Now this, Uther..." He waves it in front of his eyes. "...this isn't magic. Just something anyone can own after a background check and not be hunted or persecuted for it. And yet it's very deadly." He aims the weapon once again at the prince and fires. But like the last attempt, it fails, ending with a bullet rolling at the royal's feet. "What the?... I guess the royal family is trying some vests now, huh? Fine. Then test it on a firing squad. Men!" All of the users pivot to train their guns on Arthur for a third attack.
The prince thinks this is it. No way will his shield block a total onslaught. He subtly glimpses his soulmate. He can't be obvious. These supernaturals still don't know she's there and he can't give her away. He just wishes he could tell her once he loves her. Then maybe he can die with a smile on his face.
"No!" Uther screams.
"Please!" Morgana shrieks.
The guests and Guard remain stock still, trusting Merlynn implicitly.
"Ready! Fire!" Twelve guns go off, squad emptying magazines on the crown prince, as the young Pendragon doesn't fall.
Once the shooting ceases and the smoke clears people can see the corpses of ammunition hovering in mid-air, surrounding the prince. Arthur himself is looking on in astonishment. And then the bullets drop.
"Magic! Well if they have magical defense then we can use magical offense!" He tosses his gun and throws a fireball centered on Arthur. Within a meter the flame extinguishes. The manic leader scans the room, until his eyes land on Morgana. "It's the witch! She's trying to save her brother! Fine!" He magics his dagger back in his hands. "If I cannot have the prince, I will take the king!" But before he can slit Uther's throat the hilt burns and he's forced to release it. "Ahhhhh!" He shoves Uther back into his son in livid frustration. "Kill the guests!" The magicals pull another magazine from their cargo trousers' pockets and turn on the crowd, but to the shock of... well, everyone, the bullets are stopped by a barrier that now shimmers gold between them.
"Now!" Merlynn yells.
The raven's sudden command startles the Guard, but they quickly shake off their momentary stupor to move the guests to safety.
"No! Where are they going?! They're escaping! Get them!"
"We can't! We can't get through the shield!"
The leader stomps to the obstruction and pounds his fists onto the mystical wall, screaming in frustration. "Kill the witch!"
"Sir! Sir, I don't think she's doing this. Her eyes don't indicate she's using magic. There's another team here. There has to be. A team of sorcerers working against us. Killing the princess won't help."
"I am not leaving here without dead Pendragons! Everyone, throw down your guns! Let's show these sorcerers what we're capable of!"
Leon can only watch in horror as the princess is thrown back into the center with her father and brother, and twelve sorcerers' eyes start to glow. He detects Merlynn on the north side watching intensely, her own eyes beginning to flare. Then comes the largest display of magic he has ever witnessed.
Tree roots break up through the foundations of the building. Windows are pulled from their frames and shattered. The ceiling fractures and chunks of stone fall. Animal statues are animated and brought to life. Electricity like lighting streaks through the air. A gale of wind swirls, sweeping up debris.
All as he stands watching safely behind the barrier.
Some of the Guard come trickling back in after maneuvering the guests out. One of the sorcerers erected some sort of illusion, so from the outside, nothing appears wrong. The press still waits patiently to get glimpses of guests as things wind down for the night. The Guard informs those that were in attendance to go to their cars as status quo, and not make any signs of the chaos transpiring.
After overseeing the guests departure, the Guard joins their captain behind the shield, viewing the same mayhem unfold. If it weren't reality they'd be balanced on the edge of their seats with popcorn in their hands.
The ballroom is unequivocally destroyed, all twelve supernaturals continuing to wreak havoc, while unbeknownst to them, Merlynn's broadside of the demolition, eyes blazing like an inferno. Vines, rock, glass, electricity, ice, wind, fire, and fucking animated statues snarl and swirl around the royal family, waiting to pounce. Only their shield holding everything at bay.
Finally, Merlynn is priming to go on the offense, her eyes now pure gold with no pupils, visually announcing that she's about to perform some serious magic. The witch begins by revolving her extended arm toward the ceiling, stirring it like a witch's cauldron. The room's occupants anxiously watch attentively as the atmosphere starts to spin, following the movement of her outstretched limb, orming a... what the? Is that a black hole?! The twelve assailants cower in terror, while the other spectators eyes are wide as saucers, disbelieving the spectacle they are seeing.
Next, anyone within the shield starts glimmering gold with their feet firmly fused in place. The raven then sweeps all the effects of the assault together, gathering them with her magic, and guides everything to the colossal vacuum vortex swirling menacingly under the ceiling. After all the supernatural elements have been swallowed by the abyss, Merlynn motions the same circular movement, gradually tightening the revolutions smaller and smaller until the vortex is officially closed.
Even after the magic releases them, fifteen people remain frozen in shock within the barrier. The Guard outside isn't faring much better. But she's not finished. Merlynn now gestures to all the magic users and lets her power loose once more. Citrine beams of light glow inside their cores. As the raven's eyes brighten tendrils of flaxen rays are drawn from their bodies and aimed above them, forming luminescent spheres. When the last of the ribbons of light have been separated from their intended users, twelve sorcerers collapse... that is until they start to panic.
"What's going on?! What's happened?!"
"My magic! It's gone!
"Mine too! That's not possible!"
"It's safe to cuff them now. Over."
The Guard once again are surprised by the abrupt voice of their colleague, especially when they're still marveling at beholding such an incredible display of power. But Merlynn doesn't give them time to process because suddenly two pairs of cuffs materialize in each of the Guards' hands. Not just any cuffs, magic restraining ones. The perimeter wall finally drops and the team slowly makes their way to each magical. Each member taking responsibility of two supernaturals as the Guard is outnumbered two to one. Unless you consider Merlynn a team within herself. They're pretty confident if Merlynn were against a crowd of thousands she would still outnumber them. When the last of the bracelets click the witch's eyes flare and all the balls of light break, shooting ribbons of the ancient power back into its allocated chosen vessel.
"It's back!" One of the users squeels. "I don't have access, but it's there!"
The leader watches as each of his crew claim the same. He can feel his own returned as well. He's so grateful, he's almost not upset about their plans being foiled. His magic is a part of him. Without it he feels amputated.
The Guard readies to march them out, but are halted by a scream. "Wait!" The leader has to know. "Tell me! Sorcerers, who works so vehemently to stop us? Please! I must know who is so against our mission. Please tell us you have a better plan!" He's desperate. He needs to know if it's not him then someone is working to save their people.
What should she do? She doesn't want to reveal herself. But at the same time, regardless of their egregious actions this evening, they are still her people, and they are hurting. They need hope. That's what he's really pleading for, and that's what she came to be.
Just when he thinks his question will remain unanswered, that he will sit in prison with the understanding magic's suffering will carry on... just when he believes there will be no end, that he's failed the community, his wife, his children... just when he accepts his fate, that he should realize his people will always be second class citizens, bullied, and condemned... he gets his answer. And nothing could have prepared him for it.
On the far left wall a crimson velvet curtain hangs luxuriously to the floor. The fabric blankets the entire partition. What purpose it's meant to serve only the venue knows, but currently it's being appropriated for a new function. Flames ignite, but they are controlled and burn purposely on a clear path. It's only a moment before they discern the blaze is forming letters. E manifests first, then the hot trail flows into the following letter licking lines into the fabric that are magically not spreading. m. There's no break in between. The scorching moves immediately into fashioning the next symbol. r. With the incredible earlier use of magic and now the first three letters of their competition's signature, the magicals are starting to realize who they were up against. All but confirmed by the next letter. y. As the flames finish the signature, the lines still smoldering, the name remaining is a burned charcoal line with tangerine glow. It's complete. Evidence of their leader and salvation before them. E-m-r-y-s. The entire cadre is stunned.
"Emrys."
"It's Emrys,"
"They're here."
"It's time."
Each of them mutter to each other in excitement.
Leon gapes, dumbfounded as the leader falls to his knees facing the still scorching signature. One by one the others follow.
"We never thought we would see the day. Some started to believe the prophecy was just a children story told at bedtime, but you're real... and you're here. We believe in the world you will create, Emrys. If the prophecy is true, well then you and the Once and Future King have our loyalty." And they bow!
Then everyone, including the Guard, is once more shimmering gold and adhered to the hardwood. All the shields have been reactivated. Merlynn's eyes shine a luminescent saffron, and she reopens the vortex to collect all the venue's property she had temporarily stowed away. Soon all types of debris soars around them, but each person's protected within the safety of their personal barriers. Contrary to the earlier destruction now the magic works towards restoration. Roots are swallowed back into the floor and the broken slabs resealed. Glass is fusing together and securing itself in window openings. Mortar and rock are situating themselves in place in the ceilings and beams. Animals are returning to their pedestals and hardening to stone. Scorch marks are being buffed and cleaned. Once everything has been renovated to its former glory, Merlynn recloses the vortex and releases all from their shields.
The silence is deafening. You can hear crickets from the garden. The twelve magic users are now prostrating themselves on the floor facing the signature with tears in their eyes. "We are not worthy, almighty Emrys. But we forever our yours."
Then the final act of power for the evening is when the threads of the torched curtain weave themselves together, sewing the burnt holes shut, and the scorch marks on the fabric are magically vanished. There is no evidence remaining of a burn.
"You all might want to take them out the back. Avoid the press. Over." Merlynn suggests, not acknowledging the enormous amount of power she just revealed.
It takes a moment for her words to compute as Leon's still reeling over everything he's seen. But once they do it's back to business. "Uh... Ahem... yes. You heard the woman." The captain directs the rest of the Guard, who all follow suit lifting the twelve sorcerers to their feet and marching to the rear side of the building.
Thank goddess it's over. The witch can confidently say she's never done anything like that before. She wonders what could have happened in any of her past lives that would warrant such magic. Oh well. Perhaps a thought for another day. For now, she is beyond knackered. Merlynn trudges up to her boss. "Would I be able to go home now? I think the benefit is officially canceled, and I can just teleport Arthur to Kensington if no one else wants to take him home."
Leon nods. "Don't worry about the prince, Merlynn. I think you've done more than enough. I'll make sure he gets home."
She smiles gratefully. "Thank you." She's about to leave when the idea of waking early to head back to headquarters in the morning makes her cringe. "Say Leon?" She waits for his focus. "Could I possibly have the day off tomorrow?"
Is she for real? "Certainly. I'd say you've earned it." He winks.
"Thanks. I was going to get a cab, but I think I just want to teleport. I swear my bed is calling for me." She almost disappears when Leon stops her.
"Merlynn?" She twists to face her leader. "Good work tonight." The raven gives him a small tired smile. He watches as she glances to the prince over his shoulder, who is just staring after her. She gives Arthur the same weak curl of her lips and adds a wave. Then she's gone.
"Arthur? Arthur? What are you staring at?" It's his father.
"Nothing." He and Morgana share a knowing look.
"The press is going to have a field day with this. Leon, do we have extra security? I wouldn't be surprised if news crews are here."
"Actually, apparently some sort of illusion was placed on the property. No one knows what happened. In fact, I recommend we walk you out the front and follow normal procedure."
"Surely someone got a video." The king insists.
Leon shakes his head. "We were pinned frozen almost immediately, and when we left everyone was pushed out quickly. The guests acted like nothing happened, so if anyone says anything they'll look like a liar. On top of that, who would believe it? I think we are in the clear, sire."
He had a point. They were there and they barely believe it.
"His Highness, Her Highness, why don't we walk you out first?"
Both royals agree without speaking. Then, along with Leon, they leave the ballroom.
Uther waits for their exit and drags his mobile from his pocket, frequently glimpsing the doorway.
Ring... ring... ring...
"Uther?"
"Aredian..." He smirks to himself. "We've found our edge."
--
Five men lounge about Uther's sitting room, sipping brandy and smoking cigars. They prattle on about this and that. 'Any arrests recently, Aredian?' - 'Agravaine, how's the parliament proposal coming?' - 'Lot, how close on the formula?' - 'Cenred, are supporters making contributions?' Their usual run-of-the-mill conversation, plans to keep the little guy down.
"All right, Uther. What's this about? Why are we meeting three days early?"
"I'm so glad you asked, Lot. So glad you asked." Uther with a slight, close-lipped, smug grin and steepled fingers, answers his co-conspirator. "We found... our edge." He glances at Aredian recalling the conversation the previous night. 'She's the key to our future. The key to UK being a legitimate world power. The land pales in comparison to Emrys.'
That commences an evening of discussions and plans for what to do with this newly revealed commodity, a commodity that is all theirs and theirs alone. No more limitations, no more closed doors. A closed door is a blown door as far as they're concerned. The sky's the limit! Time to stop thinking small and think big. No one can stop them! Not when they have the witch of all witches under their thumb.
"Very well, gentlemen. You know your assignments. I'm having George arrange to move my appointment with the prime minister to tomorrow at three o'clock. That means all of us should meet no later than one o'clock. Everyone needs to have a rough plan ready. When we get together we'll compare and then make a cohesive plan for the three o'clock council. Only us know about this, and I want to keep it that way. We'll give everyone an overview at the start. I will schedule Emrys to be there by three thirty. I'm not going to have the prince and princess arrive until three fifteen. They're friends, and they won't agree with what we are trying to do, so as last minute as possible the better. Any questions?" Heads wag, and Uther shows them out the door.
The plan to collar Emrys is on.
--
With Uther enthroned at the head and the council occupying the seats circling the rectangular table, the prince, princess, and 'first knight' stroll into the king's typical display of grandstanding.
Uther and his 'fantastic four' look overly pleased, while the saner council members look a blend of unbelief, grave, and irritated. That can't be good. The five smirk and murmur amongst each other. The other four are silent, wishing they were anywhere but there.
"Father, you called us to an urgent meeting?" Arthur is annoyed in empathy for the more sensible councilors.
"Welcome Arthur. I assume you never received the message the meeting had been moved to three o'clock. That's the only reason that could explain your tardiness."
Whatever. "No sir, I was informed it was scheduled for three fifteen, and it's three ten now."
"Mmm. Well, it's no matter. What's done is done." Arthur rolls his eyes. "George, please hand the newcomers a packet."
Once the three are situated at the table, the prince nods to George standing behind them.
Upon receipt of the paperwork, Arthur scans the contents. He does not like what he finds. Is he insane?! Morgana and Leon notice the prince's reaction and review the folder themselves. Morgana's eyes narrow in suspicion. Leon's expression is grim.
"Father, you can't be serious! You want to overthrow the States and China?!"
"Not overthrow Arthur. Don't be so dramatic. Just be more... involved."
"I'm assuming this has to do with that land. That must mean you found what you were looking for."
Uther looks like the cat got the canary. "We did, indeed." His children and Guard captain gesture for him to continue. "Emrys."
"What?!" Arthur is angry.
It appears Morgana knew this was the king's ploy all along.
And Leon is speechless.
"Oh come now, you were there that night. She has the power. She's the edge we need to put the UK on top! We literally have the most powerful witch to exist on our side. Why not use it?"
"Uh huh. Um, what if she doesn't want to... use it?"
"She is under the authority of the crown and will do what she is told. We have recourse if she refuses to fall in line. We know where she's from. We know who her family is. I currently pay for her to go to school. I pay her wages. I also can utilize the Sarrum."
"Sarrum?" That wakes the princess. "Are you talking about the Pit of Armada? That's barbaric!" He's evil, pure evil. "It hasn't been used in centuries because it was inhumane. You can't do that! You can't just reactivate ancient magic torture methods!"
"Morgana, calm down." She's still fuming, crossing her arms as if restraining herself, taking deep breaths to slow her heart rate. After ensuring his sister is pacified, Arthur faces his father. "So, let me make sure I understand this. You want to force Emrys, the woman we saw Wednesday night single-handedly take down twelve gold and silver magic users, to help you, as you say, put the UK on top, by threatening her home, her family, her education, her job, and her magic, itself?" Idiot. Of all the brainless things his father has tried to do, this is by far the worst.
"I will do what I have to. All that matters is the United Kingdom. And Emrys is just what we need to tip the scales."
What, not who. As if she's some object or tool without a mind of her own. At least Morgana is doing better. She seems to have recalled that Merlynn is the almighty Emrys and his father's tactics are humorously pathetic. Surveying the room shows Arthur he's not the only one who thinks so. Gaius is burrowed into his seat, chin to chest with his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. Her Excellency keeps peeking at her phone, texting, while he's pretty sure the assistant is playing Angry Birds. Olaf appears to be dozing, and Vivianne's presenting a freshly painted ruby nail approximately every fifteen seconds.
"Emrys will be here soon, and we'll be discussing her new position. It's really a promotion."
Morgana snorts and cups her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh.
Leon is still as a statue knowing this is not going to end well.
Arthur is frustrated with his father's stupidity. Did he honestly use to idolize this man?
"Wait, she's coming now?" Morgana asks.
"Yes."
Morgana grins smugly. "This is going to be epic." She peeks up to Leon, who clenches his lips to hide his own smile daring to form.
Arthur is silently apologizing to his witch on behalf of his father. Well, this conversation's going to be interesting.
--
Merlynn wakes this morning with a message regarding a meeting with the king. She is being summoned, likely entailing the show of magic she displayed at the benefit for London's elite. Deciding to cut her normal routine short, the raven runs a brisk lap around campus and eschews the rest of her normal workout. When she finishes with her shower, she elects to wear her Guard uniform, wanting to look professional when standing before his majesty. Once dressed, she takes the rare time to cook a healthy meal. She'll need to be functioning on all cylinders when facing the king, and a nutritional meal is beneficial for that.
When Merlynn arrives at the palace she is escorted to the council chamber. "Well, mum. I think this will be the conversation you've been waiting for," she mumbles to herself. She retrieves her mobile from her pocket and presses record. After safely hidden once again within the fabric of her slacks, the witch knocks on the door to the council room. A fairly short, scrawny man answers and escorts her inside.
There are several people in the room including her King, the princess, and her boss. Ugh! Aredian's also here, along with that other greasy bloke from the benefit. They're sandwiching the king wearing creepy grins that make her skin crawl. The other attendees seem to be split with whatever is happening. The group that appears to be siding with Uther have sordid smirks, while the rest seem displeased to even be present.
"Ah, Emrys, I presume. Come in and have a seat, please," the king instructs while gesturing to the chair opposite him.
Her face pinches in annoyance. "Merlynn Ambrose."
"Pardon?" The king's head pops up from reviewing his plans at the interruption.
"My name... is Merlynn Ambrose."
The king narrows his gaze at the challenge. "Not for the purpose of this discussion, it isn't."
Leon's eyes widen knowing the king's triggered a major pet peeve of his colleague.
Merlynn grits her teeth, but she slowly plants herself into the hard conference furniture.
Morgana's zeal is stirred in suspense of where this confrontation is heading.
Arthur spots the switch in Merlynn's countenance. Unbeknownst to his father, his callous address has riled his witch. The prince almost feels sorry for him... almost.
Uther nods to George to pass her the final packet.
Merlynn cynically eyes the folder with furrowed eyebrows. Without acceptance the assistant lays it on the surface before her.
"What you have in front of you is a loose step-by-step schedule to expand the UK. Land has been discovered in a remote place in the Pacific. Several countries are vying for it. It has been brought to light that the land has oil and natural gas. Our main competition is America and China. We have been considered low on the totem pole in the running for this property, until now. That's where you come in, Emrys. With you, America and China will be forced to listen to us. And that's just the beginning. In time, governments will have to start consulting with us regarding global policy and international relations. The UK will be the voice of the world's future." Uther is pacing at this point, excitedly gesturing the magnitude of his country's glorious destiny.
Merlynn rolls to the table and slides said packet in her grasp. She leisurely flips and twirls the folder between her hands as if more examining the spin rather than perusing its contents. "I see," she says with a hint of sarcasm. "So let me get this straight. You want me to go to the States and China to strong-arm them into you annexing this discovered land. And later, you want me to be some sort of diplomat or ambassador going to various countries and use... certain... persuasive methods to convince them to give the UK a voice in their government. Is that right?" The witch's gaze never leaves the offensive paperwork, as she continues rotating the packet pirouetting on her palm. Her position is casual, laid back, with one foot resting on her knee, depicting contempt towards the so called king.
"In a nutshell, yes." He responds irritated at her blasé attitude while resettling back into his leather comfort.
"Uh huh... and this is the packet of said plans?" she says still refusing eye contact.
The king huffs, beyond annoyed at this point. "Yes."
"Mmm..." Merlynn never even cracks the folder, the abhorrent contents unworthy of her time. Rather she ceases her spinning and pinches said packet in a single corner, then lets her eyes flare. A small flame sparks safely across from her fingers on the opposite corner. From there a concentrated blaze crawls over the binder, until all that is left is a pile of ash the witch magicks away.
Morgana wickedly grins, anticipating an amazing spectacle is imminent.
Leon's wide-eyed knowing he's moments from witnessing an unprecedented battle with the king. Even more significant, a battle he'll lose.
Arthur is aroused. Anyone who's willing to take his father on has his undying loyalty. But when it comes to Merlynn, that same challenging fire... Well, lets just say it's not just his loyalty that's 'undying'.
"Wha...? Did you...?" The king is interrupted.
"No." Merlynn brushes the remnants of the packet from her hands.
"Excuse me?!" The audacity!
The raven's head is bowed in disrespect as she speaks to the monarch. "I think there has been a grave misunderstanding." Then she finally lifts her gaze with a lock on the king's eyes. "Let me make this clear. You. Are. Not. My King. I am NOT a UK citizen. I am here for one reason and one reason alone... to protect your son."
"How dare you! I have permitted you to be here. You work for me!" Uther leaps to his feet in rage.
"How dare I? How dare you?!" She matches his stance, then leans into her fists, refusing to allow his classic intimidation technique.
"I work as the Royal Guard, Uther. Leon?" Her eyes never leave the king's. "What is my job description?"
The knight clears his throat. "Uh... protect the prince."
"Leon, do I do my job?"
"Yes."
"Am I good at my job?"
"Yes."
"Is there anywhere in my job description that requires me to help the king annex land?"
Nervously, Leon replies. "Uh... no?"
"Thank you, Leon." Now she glowers at the king. "You hired me to do a job. My boss just confirmed that I do that job, and I do it well. That is why you pay me... sire." She refuses to look away, denoting this fight is between her and the elder Pendragon... and she will win!
"I can fire you. I can banish you. I can declare war on your home."
What? Merlynn bursts into laughter and doubles over with guffaws. "Are you kidding me?" This fool needs a demonstration apparently. Well, she won't disappoint. Her eyes glow gold and five pairs of cuffs appear in her hand. "These are magic restraining cuffs." She gestures to the iron bracelets. "I believe you have arrested a few platinum users in your time, correct?" She questions no one in particular, but receives more than a few nods. "And you were successfully able to restrain them? Is that correct?" The same bowed heads concur. She fully extends her arms and lets her power flow. All five pairs of manacles rise and float towards her, then click closed around her limbs. A moment passes, then gold is shone through her ancient orbs once more. The shackles snap open and plummet to the table, generating a sonorous noise as if punctuating her point. "You and what army, sire?" She pauses to let that sink in. "If you don't believe me..." She slides the cuffs skating down the walnut surface. "...see for yourself."
Uther gapes and collapses into his 'throne'.
Not one to stay stationary, especially when she's incited, Merlynn begins a trek around the perimeter with her line of sight focused solely on the king. "I don't have magic, sire. I am Magic. And I..." She stills to accentuate her words. "...am immortal." The king blanches.
"See, you actually have NO power over me, your majesty.The only authority you do have is because I give it to you. I wear your gauntlets..." She lifts her wrists, spotlighting the bracelets. "...because unlike other magic users, whom you brand like livestock, when my people see my gauntlets they have hope. Hope in a better world that I will help build with MY King, who is your son." She gestures to Arthur, then carries on her path.
The raven spots the slick blonde she had the displeasure of meeting and almost gags. Maybe he needs a bit of her monologue directed at him. So she pauses her track behind Aredian, gripping the back of his chair. "Now you, Aredian, say magic is evil and the dark arts. Wasn't that right?" She winds around the chair and perches on the edge of the table, arms crossed, eyes zeroing in on the slimy blonde. "But see I choose to use my power to save my King, to defend those weaker than me (that's everyone by the way), to create beautiful things, to help make life more convenient for others and myself. You use your authority to hold others under your thumb, to keep down those weaker than yourself, to make laws to make life difficult for people to live, to promote fear, persecution, and poverty." She leans towards him and clutches both arm rests. "Now I ask you, Aredian, whom of us practices the dark arts?" She eyes him smugly then straightens and closes in on the king.
"I have power, sir, and I choose not to lord it over my people or over yours." She halts at reaching the king's chair. "You also have power, sire." She bends in head-to-head. "Can you say the same?" She smirks at his silence.
Once vertical, the witch resumes her journey around the council. "See, I will not use MY power to dominate. I will use it to cohabitate. I want my people to live side by side with the common people in mutual respect and peace and prosperity."
She pivots mid lap to face the king. "YOU have chosen to take my people and make them somehow worth less than yours. I refuse to do the same." Turning her back on the monarch, she continues her route.
"I believe in human rights and free will," She rounds on the king once more boldly pointing at the royal. "...which is why I ALLOW you to be the tyrant that you are." The hike recommences. "That is your choice, and as the citizens still accept you on the throne, that is theirs. And I will not take that from them."
"That is why I follow your laws, sire, and I don't remove you from the throne." The raven's nearing the king.
"I don't want the public to see magic as a means to control and subjugate mankind. I don't want to tyrranize the people." Closer.
"So I will follow your laws and encourage my people to do the same. You witnessed this yourself. At the benefit I helped arrest those men. Hell, it was because of me they even were arrested." Almost there. "Their actions were wrong, but their point was right. And Uther, in case you didn't realize, by the end," She's arrived and now towers over the king. "...they were on their knees swearing fealty to ME." After a brief rest, Merlynn is walking once more.
"Magic can be good, your Majesty, and I'm here to prove it. Most magic attacks are retaliation for the pain and suffering you have caused, that your regime has created. Goddess, your reign's platform has been exclusively terrorizing my people. Magic doesn't corrupt, sire. Power does. Or I should say it can. Because lets face it... I'm the most powerful being on the planet. And do you know how much suffering I have caused, Uther?" She doesn't bother waiting for an answer. "Fourteen: One was a kidnapper; another was the assassin who dare go after your son (Something tells me you'll think at least the latter was justified); and the other twelve were the men from the benefit. And every one of them I would say I brought to justice rather than caused suffering, wouldn't you?"
The witch has finally reached her intended destination, her original seat. She swivels to face the nation's sovereign once more. Then with fists clenched and knuckles flat on the table, with pure authority, Magic speaks. "So don't you dare ever ask me again to lord my power over anyone. I don't use my power against people. I use it for them. Specifically for my King. I won't even lord it over you. Let me be perfectly clear, Uther, I CHOOSE not to. So no, I will not take part in your quite frankly asinine plan for world domination."
The council gawks as the raven vanishes and materializes a meter from the king. He startles, and she leans towards him, then stage whispers, "So you see, you have no power over me, sire." She moves closer and for his ears only, "It is I who have power over you." The mighty king visibly trembles. With a smug grin Merlynn straightens and moves to give the monarch complete line of vision on her form. He needs to see Magic at full height, standing tall.
"Be not deceived, Uther Pendragon, I CHOOSE to live under your authority." Her eyes are menacing and threatening. "Be very glad that I do." A glare morphs into a gaze of hommage. She then bestows him a 'respectful' bow, in truth mocking his authority.
Next, she edges towards the Prime Minister and this time genuinely gives the same obeisance. "Your Excellency." The woman respectfully dips her head in return.
Merlynn spins to the rest of the table and motions a similar deference. "People I don't know."
Arthur Pendragon, the savior and Once and Future King rightfully entitled to exceptional tribute. Instead of a simple bow, for her King, she pays special honor going down on one knee and lowering her gaze. "My King."
The prince is overwhelmed by the display of what's virtually worship. By god, who is this woman to revere him so? What has he done to warrant such veneration? Deeply moved and humbled by Merlynn's vast esteem, Arthur lifts her chin with a crook of his finger and hopefully conveys his own admiration. Realizing she's still kneeling before him, he gestures permission for her to rise. Then he bestows her a respectful nod which she returns in understanding.
The witch then twists and bows to a deserving Morgana. "Princess," who dips her head with a proud grin.
And finally Merlynn spins to similarly regard the first knight. "Boss." He also tightly bobs his head with an air of pride.
Then that was it. That was the last of the council. She's officially finished, and Merlynn's confident she made her point, and her clan will be satisfied. But now she's done and tired and she believes she has a test to study for. It's time to leave. "You all have a pleasant day," she says never too weary to be polite. Then she pivots to address her friends. "See you three tomorrow?" They nod confirming the party's still a go. Good. She's been looking forward to it. The raven lastly with affection grins to her new 'family' and waves. "Cheers." Then the meeting fittingly ends for the witch and within the blink of an eye, Magic... is gone.
There's a moment of nothing. No sound. No movement. Not even eye contact. The first to break from their frozen state is the Prime Minister who begins to gather her things with the assistant right behind her. As she's striding towards the door she pauses and turns to face the king. What she has to say cannot be left unsaid. "Uther?" The monarch's gaze lifts, eyes meeting hers. "She's right." And with that, she and her associate walk out and don't look back.
Arthur fights to maintain his stoic composure. As the time of silence climbs so does the tension. When it finally peaks his father dismisses the room. He doesn't think it's insignificant that all the packets were left behind, including the 'fantastic four's.' And that can only mean one thing...
Emrys won.
I wrote this story because I wanted several elements in one story.
1. I wanted a gorgeous Merlynn/Merlin. I'm not a fan of skinny, scrawny, Dumbo ears, and all the other ways people like to paint our protagonist. Half the time it's like Arthur is slumming it because he's obviously soooo out of Merlin's league. Not in this story. She's a proper match and not some gq model's charity.
2. I wanted ultimate BAMF. Unmatched. Plus it goes with the whole concept of only having one weakness. So yeah, my Merlynn is pretty much amazing in every way. Unrealistic? Sure. But this is fiction, and hey, at least I made her a Goddess. As a mortal this all would have been a bit farfetched, even for me.
3. I wanted someone to finally put Uther in his place and say all those things that I've cringed at from other stories where things were left unsaid. Not my girl! She says it all. Mwah ha ha ha.
Stay tuned to learn the other elements I craved and why.
