Amelie had been drifting in a state of semi-awareness for most of the night, too anxious to even consider falling asleep. She was huddled in the same corner she'd been in since the kind man had left her alone, her arms and legs bunched tightly to her body to capture as much warmth as possible in the frigid cell. In a twisted sense, she welcomed the shivers that encompassed her entire body every few seconds, knowing that soon all she'd feel would be a terrible, scorching heat. She tried desperately not to think of the fate that awaited her once the sun rose, but the images plagued her anyway: a pyre, a jeering crowd, rising flames, an expressionless king. Her only hope at this point was that her sister would have remained in their village and would not have to witness her execution.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, rousing Amelie with the same sensation as getting dunked in an ice bath. Her eyes shot open, immediately filling with panicked tears when she saw the warm shafts of light that had invaded her cell through the tiny window near the ceiling. It was a new day—the day of her trial, and thus, the day she would burn on a pyre for all to see.
Two guards that she didn't recognize stopped in front of her cell, wasting no time in unlocking it and marching inside. She scrambled backwards, a useless attempt to escape seeing as she was already pressed against the wall.
"No no no, please!" She begged, lacking all of the bravado that she'd carried yesterday. They ignored her pleas, lifting her up to her feet with surprisingly gentle hands and guiding her out of her prison. Amelie tried to dig in her heels, but the smooth stone offered no traction for the worn bottoms of her boots. Despite her guards' light grips, they were still much stronger than she was, and they had no trouble at all pushing her along down the hall and up the stairway.
She cried and struggled the entire journey to the throne room, completely oblivious to the sympathetic stares she recieved along the way. It was only when the sound of the doors clanging open reached her ears that her movements ceased. She inhaled a quick, shuddering breath, glancing around frantically at the gathered crowd as she was pulled forward. There were dozens upon dozens of people crammed into the large space: nobles, knights, servants, everyone. They all watched her entrance with varying expressions ranging from fear to pity to disgust, and she swallowed thickly, forcing herself to look forward instead.
The king was the absolute picture of regality upon his throne. His posture was straight, his chin raised just enough to exude a calm sort of confidence without appearing arrogant, and his crown rested perfectly atop his golden locks. He stood as soon as the guards stopped a few yards from the dais, waving a hand dismissively.
"Take off her chains. They won't be necessary," King Arthur ordered. The guards exchanged wary glances, but obediently unlocked the cold iron cuffs and stepped back some paces so she was at the center of attention. Quiet muttering broke out amongst the onlookers, and a nervous energy filled the air now that the sorceress had access to her magic once again. Amelie held up her wrists in shock, staring at the bare skin in disbelief, then let her gaze flicker upward to land on the king.
He gave her a soft smile. "I hope the walk here wasn't unpleasant. I did tell them to be easy with you." He sent a warning glance over her head at the two guards, silently threatening some sort of punishment if they'd disobeyed his orders.
"N-No, m'lord!" She interjected hastily, her voice shaking slightly. She huffed at herself, clutching her hands together as she tried to regain the same stoic facade she'd managed the day prior. "No, I was treated quite well," she promised. It was true enough, considering she'd expected to be dragged into the throne room and forced to her knees. She didn't know how to act now in the face of King Arthur's respectful behavior. Was he just trying to lull her into a false sense of security before he burned her? It seemed like something King Uther would have done, so why not his son?
Her gaze shifted to the side in an awkward effort to avoid eye contact with the king. Queen Guinevere was sitting on the throne to the left of her husband's, her hands folded neatly on her lap as she observed their exchange. When she caught Amelie's eye, she offered a kind smile, making the farm girl blush and curtsy respectfully in return.
When Amelie noticed the familiar slim, dark-haired man standing just to the right of the king's throne, she couldn't help a surprised squeak from escaping. She knew Merlin was a servant, and that he'd been attending the king during his meeting when she'd been brought in the day before, but she hadn't expected to see him standing on the dais at the king's right hand. It was unheard of for a servant to be placed in such a position, and she found herself questioning how a sorcerer had ended up in such a situation. Surely he realized how dangerous it was for him to be so close to the king!
Merlin gave her a beaming grin and a wink, and she barely refrained from gaping at his actions. Did he have a death wish? She'd never thought him a fool during their conversation, but she was seriously doubting her judgment now.
The king noticed her wide-eyed expression and glanced over his shoulder at the cause, rolling his eyes at Merlin but saying nothing to reprimand him. Instead, he walked back to his throne and sat down.
"Let the trial for Amelie of Honeyford begin," he announced to the room at large. He looked to her, and she held his gaze with a faint tremor in her hands. "Amelie, you have been accused of the crime of sorcery. How do you plead?" He asked, his tone firm and business-like, though not aggressive.
She steeled her nerves. "Guilty, m'lord," she repeated her response from yesterday.
Arthur nodded, expecting that answer, but instead of immediately sentencing her to death, he gestured to the side of the room. "Bring forth the first witness." A curly-haired knight separated from his brothers-in-arms in the front row and led an older woman with long, silver hair to stand at the bottom of the dais, just a few feet from Amelie.
The young sorceress blinked in surprise, recognizing the witness to be her village elder, Mabel. Amelie didn't exactly feel relieved to see her, since Mabel was known for her harsh demeanor and her lack of humor. She was a serious woman, always one to put the well-being of the village before the emotions of others. Amelie had once seen her make a poor boy cry for taking a break in the mid-summer heat to play in the mud puddles that had formed in the street from an earlier rain; she'd told him in no uncertain terms that his duties came before any leisure time. So no, Amelie definitely wasn't put at ease in her presence now.
Mabel didn't even glance in Amelie's direction as she offered the king and queen a surprisingly graceful curtsy. "Your Majesties," she greeted formally.
King Arthur dipped his head perfunctorily. "Please state your name for the record," he requested.
"Mabel Burchett, Your Majesty," she said obligingly.
"Mabel, do you hereby swear to be true in your account before the court?" He asked. The old record keeper, sitting at a small desk at the far edge of the dais, scribbled away furiously as they spoke.
"I so swear." Mabel stood as straight as her brittle bones would allow, appearing more like a lady of the court than a simple peasant, and her voice resonated with proud sincerity.
The king nodded in acceptance. "Tell us what you witnessed regarding Amelie the day she was arrested," he ordered.
Mabel finally sent Amelie the briefest of glances, but the sorceress didn't have enough time to suss out what she was thinking before she looked back to King Arthur.
"Most of our able-bodied villagers were working the fields, including young Amelie here." She gestured in Amelie's direction without breaking the king's gaze. "Amelie's sister, Winifred, had been inside all week with a sick babe. Our village healer tried everything he could, Sire, but the coughing sickness is not an easy thing for a child so young to be rid of. The poor thing just got closer to death with each passing day." Her tone grew somber, and Amelie stared bemusedly at Mabel as her countenance shifted to one of sympathy. It was not an expression often found on the elder's face. Mabel's voice softened as she continued, "When the babe started losing color, Winifred felt she had no choice but to ask her dear sister to save the little one. All of us in the village know of Amelie's…talents," she euphemized, and Amelie winced. Hopefully the whole village of Honeyford wouldn't be implicated for abetting her sorcerous ways. "She put her hands upon the babe's chest, spoke a few words of the Old Tongue, and then there was this white light." Mabel's gaze became a bit distant, and Amelie could've sworn the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile for a moment. "I saw life return to the child, Sire. Forgive me for saying, but it was a privilege to witness such a thing," she declared, and Amelie sucked in a sharp breath, along with everyone else in the hall. Openly approving of sorcery could get Mabel thrown in the dungeons herself!
Amelie chanced a look around the room, seeing faces full of wonder or shock or both. Everyone seemed to be entranced by Mabel's words, unable to believe that sorcery had been used in a beneficial manner. The king's mood was unreadable, but he didn't look angry, which was a feat in itself. His father likely would've been raging at this point. She couldn't help but glance at Merlin, feeling a deep need to see his reaction. He was listening to Mabel speak with rapt attention, his brows furrowed sympathetically. He'd shuffled close enough to the king's throne so he now leaned against it slightly, his arm brushing King Arthur's shoulder every once in a while. It was completely improper, yet he and the king took no notice of their proximity. No one in the court seemed to notice, either. Or care. Clearly she was missing something, because she was pretty sure a servant wasn't supposed to be so close to his king. Not if he wanted to keep his head.
Mabel took a hesitant step closer to the dais, re-capturing Amelie's focus. "I remember the days before the Purge, Sire. No one in my village ever complained when the crops were encouraged to grow or a new babe was blessed after birth. Those sorts of things were welcomed, almost expected. I dare say Amelie made a brave choice. The right choice," she finished, bowing her head.
King Arthur's eyes widened slightly at the blunt opinion, and Amelie's filled with tears. She would've never expected Mabel of all people to be the one to step up to her defense. It gave her a sense of peace, like even though she wasn't long for this earth, she'd still made a positive impact, and she would be remembered well by at least a few people.
The king cleared his throat, shifting in his chair. "Thank you, Mabel. You will be well-compensated for making the journey here to give your statement. I appreciate your honesty," he said, perfectly business-like. He hid his emotions infuriatingly well, and Amelie found herself squinting at him in an effort to figure out what he was thinking, then promptly snapped her gaze away when she realized what she was doing.
The next witness called was a knight, one she vaguely recognized from her group of captors. He wasn't one she'd interacted with on the trip to Camelot, but she'd seen him around, cooking for the other knights or doing some other mundane chore. He was fairly young, so she guessed he was probably new to the brotherhood.
His account was formal and to-the-point, leaving out no details. The band of knights had been on their usual patrol when they'd stopped in Honeyford for a bit of rest, and coincidentally happened upon Amelie casting her magic. As per the law, and with dozens of witnesses making it impossible to deny, Amelie had been arrested for the crime of sorcery. No attempt to escape had been made on her part, and no one had been injured on either side.
Amelie sighed internally, wondering if she would've been better off fighting back or running away, but in the end she knew it would've been too risky. The last thing she'd wanted was for her sister or the other villagers to pay for such an action. It was her crime, and hers alone.
Once the knight was finished with his own story, the king thanked him and sent him back to the audience like he'd done with Mabel, then called up the next witness. Amelie shuffled her feet anxiously, hoping this was the last one. She didn't want to die, of course, but drawing out the inevitable was no fun, either. Once again, she questioned why the king was even bothering with this trial in the first place.
When the next witness appeared, all rational thought immediately flew right out of Amelie's head. She gasped and made to rush forward, but hands encircled her arms before she could move more than a foot.
"Winnie!" She cried out, full of fear for her sister, who wasn't supposed to be here!
Winifred held up a placating hand, begging through her gaze for Amelie to stay still. Amelie froze, shrinking back as she looked toward the king. He met her gaze, slightly wary, like he expected her to lash out with her magic any second. To be fair, she probably would resort to such measures if her sister was threatened in any way. Merlin, who was still standing directly next to the throne but no longer leaning against it, had one hand clenched tightly around the armrest, glancing between her and his king nervously, looking ready to intervene should a fight break out. Amelie somehow got the impression that he wouldn't be on her side in such a situation, though she couldn't pinpoint why exactly she felt that way.
The crowd was beginning to rumble with uneasy mutterings, so King Arthur quickly pressed on with the trial, asking for Winifred to share her viewpoint of events. The older sister was polite as ever, and even managed to speak without her voice shaking.
"Amelie only did as I begged her to do, Your Majesty. She used her magic to heal my baby, and she's the only reason she's still alive today. She's a good person; she'd sooner put herself under the axe than harm an innocent. Please, do not judge her too harshly, Sire. If anyone is to blame, it is me," Winifred insisted, wringing her hands.
Amelie shook her head vigorously in disagreement, but remained silent, not wanting to make things worse. No, Winnie. Go home to your child. Leave me to my fate, she thought desperately.
The king and queen shared a look of mutual surprise, then King Arthur stood to his feet and made his way off the dais. Amelie, along with everyone else in the room, watched in astonishment as he broke the protocol of a normal trial and walked up to Winifred, gently grasping both of her hands in his own.
"I promise you, Winifred. I will not hurt your sister, and I certainly don't plan on killing her," he assured her softly, eliciting gasps all around from the crowd. Amelie herself could feel her heart thumping beneath her skin, and she hardly noticed when the guards let go of her. She swayed in place, unsure how to proceed.
The king wasn't going to execute her? She wasn't going to the pyre? Then why the trial? She thought half-hysterically. While she was beyond elated to hear that she wouldn't be burned at the stake today, she couldn't help but feel a little resentment toward the king for putting her through all of this anxiety.
King Arthur glanced her way and smiled sheepishly, as if he'd read her thoughts. Her bewildered expression probably spoke volumes. He squeezed a shaken Winifred's hands before taking a step back up the dais to address the entire court.
"I convened this trial here today because I wanted everyone, including myself, to hear from all sides how Amelie used sorcery to save a life, instead of taking one. I believe in the right hands, magic can be used for wonderful things, and in the wrong hands, terrible things. That is a decision a person must make for themselves. It is not a decision anyone can make for them. That is why, earlier this morning, I signed an amendment to the current law against sorcery. No person will ever again be killed simply for having magic." Immediately, confused and shocked conversation broke out amongst the audience, and a few even began shouting, both in agreement and indignation. The king held up a hand, demanding silence. It took a few minutes, but eventually the noise died down enough for him to continue. "Magic is still outlawed," he clarified, and Amelie didn't think she was imagining the pregnant pause after that statement that seemed to scream for now. "However, having magic is not enough on its own to warrant a death penalty. That being said, I officially pardon Amelie of Honeyford of all crimes of which she is accused, as she did not harm anyone or fight against her arrest." Amelie's knees wobbled, and she locked them together in an effort to stay upright. She couldn't believe this was happening. Winifred stared at her with watering eyes, a grin lighting up her face. Everyone in the throne room was utterly silent, looking between Amelie and the king with wide eyes.
King Arthur lowered his voice as he spoke directly to Amelie. "As of right now, you are free, Amelie," he told her with a small smile. She had never felt such an overwhelming amount of gratitude and respect towards another person than she did in that moment, and she finally allowed herself to fall to her knees, overcome by her emotions.
If there was anyone worth bending the knee for, though, it was King Arthur.
-XXX-
-XXX-
Amelie leaned heavily against her sister as they made their way down a long corridor overlooking the courtyard, a servant leading them to their assigned chambers for the night. They'd be escorted back to Honeyford tomorrow, but for tonight they could simply rest. She was still in a state of shock from the outcome of the trial, which is why she didn't notice the presence running up behind them until a hand gently grasped her elbow.
"Amelie!"
She stumbled to a halt, Winnie following suit, and raised both eyebrows in surprise when Merlin bounced to a stop in front of them. He was grinning ear to ear, his eyes forming little crescents, looking for all the world like an over-excited puppy. She thought it was quite endearing, and was reminded why she'd taken such a quick liking to him the evening prior.
"Merlin!" She greeted, offering a warm smile in return. Winnie tilted her head in confusion but didn't say anything to interrupt their reunion. "What are you doing here?" She wondered curiously. "Shouldn't you be attending the king?"
Merlin waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, the prat can wait for me a little longer. I'll only be a minute," he claimed with an amused snort. Amelie gaped and hurriedly checked their surroundings to see if anyone had heard him. The servant leading them was standing off to the side, and merely rolled her eyes with a soft snicker upon hearing Merlin's insult.
"Merlin!" Amelie chided, unable to hold back a quiet laugh herself. "That's the king you're talking about!"
He pursed his lips in mock seriousness. "Yes, as he loves reminding me on a daily basis. Luckily for him, though, none of that means squat to me!" He chirped. Amelie shook her head in disbelief. He was an odd one, for sure.
She reached out to give his arm a friendly squeeze. "You kept your promise," she told him, gesturing toward Winifred. "Am I correct to assume you had something to do with the trial today?" She asked, quiet enough to where even the servant girl wouldn't be able to hear. Amelie was well aware that the king had not been so accepting of her magic yesterday when she'd been brought in during his meeting. It was no coincidence that he seemingly changed his mind overnight after her conversation with Merlin, who just so happened to be the king's personal servant, apparently.
Merlin blushed, shrugging noncommittally. "I just told him the truth. Everything after that was up to him," he said, obviously proud of his king.
Amelie bit her lip, a swell of affection for this near-stranger rising within her. "I was right about you, Merlin. You are brave. Possibly the bravest I've ever met," she added honestly.
His lips quirked up at the compliment, and thankfully he didn't deny it. "It was the right thing to do. For everyone. Arthur is a great king, and he proved it today," he stated, his eyes shining slightly. Amelie didn't bother commenting on the lack of a title, sensing that Merlin was anything but an average servant.
She hugged Winifred closer to her side, meeting Merlin's gaze with a hopeful expression of her own. "Yes, he is. I think he even has the potential to be one of the greatest kings this land has ever known," she replied with the utmost sincerity.
Merlin's smile was secretive, but he nodded in agreement. "You have no idea."