A/N:
Hello! It's been a while I know but I am still here! It's even a rather large chapter that kicks off another arc.
Big thank you to new followers and super big thank you to all reviewers. As always, they make my day.
Enjoy!
Ilandrae
Disclaimer: Still don't own Merlin
CHAPTER 25 – ALWAYS THE CENTRE OF ATTENTION
Camelot Throne Room, Camelot
It was a rush, Mel had to admit, being somewhere you shouldn't. Hearing things you were not meant to. And no one being the wiser.
"A dead sorcerer in the Darkling Woods?" the Queen of Camelot frowned.
Mel peaked around the column from which she was concealed to look at the people gathered around the council table. In the two days since Emrys had left she'd grown more than a little bored.
She'd continued her sword lessons with Art and Sir Lancelot but while she was ecstatic to be training with a real knight… he wasn't Emrys. She hadn't realised the spark of fun that the warlock had brought to training, and it just wasn't the same without him.
As her thoughts had turned to him, they'd also turned to the attempt on his life. She'd been watching from the window of his rooms when he'd been hit, thought she even screamed when it had happened. And seeing him lying in the physician chambers, unconscious and trembling. She'd been terrified again. She didn't know what she would have done if she'd lost Emrys so soon after saying goodbye to her father.
So, she got mad. Mad at the person who'd tried to take him away from her and decided that she may as well see if there was anything she could do stop them from trying to do it again.
And knowing that nobody was going to tell her anything, she figured the best place to start would be seeing what everyone else already knew. And had decided she didn't need to know.
Concealed as she was behind a hefty column, the queen, Sirs Leon and Tristan, and a bunch of old men she didn't really care about were none the wiser to her presence.
"He was torn apart My Lady" Leon confirmed gravely, "likely sometime in the past day or so. From what we can tell, whoever hired him must have come back to make sure he couldn't expose them."
"But who knew you were even going there?" the Queen exclaimed, "I struggle to think of people outside of this room that knew."
Mel was sure that the Queen didn't understand the significance of the truth in her words. The girl watched all the councilmen eye each other warily, a point she found quite interesting. Obviously even they didn't completely trust each other.
"Are you so sure he wasn't the one who did it himself?" a crooked nose councilman asked.
"It's unlikely Councilman Willis" Mel liked the way Tristan spoke to them, as much respect as was required of him and not an ounce more, "He was definitely killed by someone, and it was no beast."
"Are you sure he was even involved at all?" Willis certainly asked a lot of questions and Mel didn't like the look in his eye every time someone even brought up the mere mention of magic. An intense hate would fill his eyes for just a second.
"Our druid contacts confirmed that the magic used on the dagger that nearly killed Merlin was the same as the spell cast in the vicinity of the sorcerers cabin."
"Druid contacts" Willis scoffed, "How can Camelot have druid contacts."
Other councilmen also expressed their unease.
"They are our friends" Leon insisted.
"Friends. They follow magic."
"They are peaceful though-"
Arguments erupted. Men were yelling and the Queen just shook her head wearily and Mel got the feeling this wasn't the first time this topic had come up.
Their yelling drowned out the whispers that began to fill the room. The arguments continued as the whispers grew. Mel strained her ears as she noticed the sound but couldn't make out the words. She had to catch herself from telling everyone to be quiet so she could listen.
The men continued to yell and just as Mel though the Queen was going to send them all to their rooms the whispers stopped, and a great white light filled the room blinding its occupants to all else.
When the light cleared a woman stood upon the council table, clad in armour, a sword at her hip and her boots scrunching the Councilmen's papers and leaving muddy prints on the wood.
The woman grinned as she took in the astounded faces around her.
Mel saw Sir Tristan shake his head and was surprised to see tears in his eyes as he grinned, "Always the centre of attention Isolde."
"That's why you love me right?" the woman smiled, and Sir Tristan didn't hesitate another moment before leaping onto the table, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her for a good long moment.
The councilman at their feet attempted to ease one of his papers from under Sir Tristan's boot and scowled as it tore. The Queen coughed, and Mel smiled at the awkwardness that had permeated the room.
The couple didn't even bat an eye as they broke apart snaking an arm around each other's waist.
"Guinevere," Isolde greeted the Queen with a bow before simply saying, "Good job for the past couple of years. You've won me more than one wager on the other side when it came to your victories."
The way she said it Mel could tell that she hadn't simply been talking about military victories.
And looking at the Queen, surrounded by those who held the most power in Camelot, surrounded by men. Mel realised that the Queen likely hadn't been accepted easily into her throne and into her power upon her husband's death.
Mel was immediately grateful that she'd listened in on this meeting. She had a feeling that this 'Isolde' was going to make thing a little more interesting around Camelot.
Isolde stole another glance at Tristan unable to help the smile that spread across her face as he looked lovingly back. She was scarcely able to believe her eyes as she gazed at her soulmate.
Sitting in a chair next to him, she couldn't help her hands from stealing secret touches under the table, his hand, his leg, slinking an arm around his waist and pulling him closer. Nor could she stop her heart from racing as she finally let it sink in that she was back. Back with Tristan, who'd even become a knight of Camelot as impossible as that might have seemed ten years ago.
And she was back in Camelot. Where she had more than one promise to fulfil.
In between her stolen seconds of staring into her soulmate's eyes, Isolde cast her gaze around the room. As she realised the oddity of their situation she shot Tristan a whispered question, "I recall dying in the throne room. Why is the council having a meeting here?"
Tristan replied just as softly, "Council room got destroyed in the battle still hasn't been fully repaired yet."
"It's like they were asking me to land on the table" she murmured, and Tristan smiled.
Isolde finally tuned into the discussions the table was having. And boy was she disappointed. A bunch of men who trusted each other as far as they could throw them with those spindly ancient arms of theirs. Tristan and Leon were the only ones who spoke any degree of sense and their calls were drowned out but the near spluttering bluster of the council men as they tried to prove their baseless points about magic.
Isolde rolled her eyes. She knew when to pick her battles. Right now? With this audience? She knew her words would have little impact.
Huffing impatient, she nearly clocked Tristan in the shin when her eyes met with a gaze as equally impatient.
The girl, Mel, peeked out from around a column, looking on at the councilmen with disgust.
As their eyes met, the girl jumped and darted back into her hiding place.
But Isolde smiled, she could start making good on one of her promises this very day it seemed.
The volume in the room rose once more and Isolde shared a look with Guinevere.
Is this really accomplishing anything?
The queen, seeming to agree, shoved her chair back with an audible scrape, silencing the room.
"I think we are done here" she said bluntly, "obviously this isn't working, and we will need to reconvene at another time."
Grumbling, whether in agreement or disgruntlement Isolde couldn't tell, the council men exited leaving the Queen, her two knights, Isolde and their hidden eavesdropper in the room.
Guinevere shook her head as she stood, "The council will never see sense as long as Willis and Samuel are spouting their nonsense."
"Indeed" Leon also stood, "I think it best if we continue the investigation ourselves."
Guinevere agreed and Isolde felt her excitement rising, it had been a good long while since something like a hunt had thrilled her, "What can I do?"
"You can rest."
"What?" Isolde could barely believe Tristan's words, "I've rested long enough."
"You only just came back from the dead Isolde" there was a pleading look in the knight's eyes, "Please. For my own sanity if not your health."
Seeing that look she knew he wasn't going to take no for an answer. But she wasn't one to just sit by idly. His own fear was clouding his judgement and she knew just how to clear it up.
Prove that she was perfectly capable of handling herself. Tactfully, of course. She chose her next words carefully, fingering the pommel of her sword.
"Fine, I will not assist you."
Tristan seemed relieved at her words and after a hasty goodbye he and Leon left.
But Guinevere looked at her with a smile, "You won't help him? But you won't sit idly, will you?"
"Of course not Guinevere" she grinned, "I thought I might make it a bit of a race to be honest."
The Queen laughed softly as she too began to depart, "l suppose two teams will be better than one. And please Isolde, you died for Camelot. Gwen is fine."
"Of course, Gwen"
The door thudded softly behind the Queen as she left and Isolde lounged back in her seat, boots on the table.
"Mel, my little Griff, come have a chat."
"Little Griff?" the girl treaded softly over. Apparently seeing Isolde's laid-back look, she perched herself on the edge of the table, her legs swinging freely as she stared steadfastly at Isolde's boots, "Where'd that come from?"
"I've heard some tales of your ferocity, and the way you fly on horseback. Little Griffin seems suitable."
"If you say so" the girl slowly met her eyes with a small smile, "I liked your entrance. It was fun to watch them squirm."
Isolde laughed, "Surprisingly it's not that hard to do. You've even managed it if I'm not mistaken."
The girls green gaze shyly went back to staring at the woman's boots, "I don't know about that."
Isolde studied the girl for a moment. Though she was soft spoken and reluctant to meet her eyes now. She recalled the way the girl had stared down a whole field of Camelot knights. The way she'd ridden to Camelot to warn Merlin of the danger to Ameldry without rest and without hesitation. And the manner in which she'd approached her training, little complaint and with a determination rarely seen in this world.
Little Griffin was apt indeed.
As she looked at the girl, who was simply trying to carve out her own destiny in a world that rarely allowed a woman to do so, she also remembered the words of the man who came to her before she'd crossed back over.
Help my little Gem will you? She has a big heart and big dreams. Dreams that will fight her every step of the way. It tears me apart that neither her mother or I can be there for her now. They say you're going back, and I hope you'll let me make this one request just so I know there's someone out there for her. I know the Great One will be there for her. But please, will help my Melisandrae too?
"Let me guess Little Griff you wanted in on the assassin action too?"
The girl slumped, "They'd never let me. They won't even teach me how to use a sword."
Isolde laughed, "And of course that stopped you."
Mel met her eyes again, a gleam of hope probably because Isolde hadn't just dismissed her.
"They told you to stay out of it too" the girl said warily.
"And of course that's going to stop me" Isolde answered with a grin.
"Well when I asked how I could help they told me to go help the physician" a woman Isolde recognised as Princess Mithian emerged from her own hiding place, her own smile on her face, "But I am already bored out of my mind and really do fancy hunting down the bastard that wants Merlin dead. So, there's no way I'm missing out on this action."
Though surprised to see the Princess here, her attitude was not unexpected, and Isolde once again grew eager. A recently resurrected ex-smuggler, an orphan village girl with dreams of becoming a knight and an adventurous Princess whose kingdom had been lost—it seemed she had a team. One that the whole of Camelot would find exceptionally unexpected no doubt.
Rhuddlan, Gwynedd
"Correct me if I'm wrong Myara" Merlin mused, "Gwynedd was where people were talking about that anti magic cult right? Do you think there's any connection to the theft of the Blood Rose?"
Myara considered it for a moment. The aged sorceress was leading the warlock and his guard down the streets of Rhuddlan, a large city in Gwynedd, intending to start their investigation where the magical artefact had been taken from.
It had been a while since Merlin had been in Rhuddlan, or even Gwynedd for that matter. He'd forgotten how the clay buildings reflected the heat of the sun seeming to bake those unfortunate enough to be out on the streets as the sun reached its peak.
And of course they were the only ones silly enough to be there. It was just his luck and the warlock already felt sweat pooling in places he'd rather it didn't and his combat stave in hand felt heavy. He fidgeted with the leather band on his wrist which was also holding his distortion stave, it kept sticking to his skin in the heat.
"It was" Myara answered, "And it is a possibility. From what we've found out since we last talked the cult calls itself Albion's Purge and their sole belief is that magic needs to be removed from the world. As ridiculous as it sounds, they are under the impression that it is their purpose to do so. They have a strong presence in Camelot, and I wouldn't be surprised if they had a hand in the attempt on your life."
"But magic was used to try and kill me" Merlin reminded her.
Myara gave him a pointed look, "These people think that the world can survive without magic. Do you really think they are smart enough to consider their own hypocrisy in using magic to try and kill you?"
Merlin conceded that she was probably right. These people were never the most intelligent.
Myara continued on, "We should remain vigilant anyway. You never know who might be in league with such a group."
Merlin thought the last comment was bit redundant in Myara's case. As she always did, no matter where she went, the aged sorceress peered at every door and corner with the utmost suspicion. As if she expected to turn one and find a whole army around it.
But knowing Myara and her many years of experience, who knew, maybe one day such a thing had happened.
Eventually Myara stopped at a door. It was no different to the others they had passed except for the wreath of white flower buds on the door.
Merlin saw Bedivere look at the closed flowers with interest.
"They are moonflowers" Merlin told him, "They bloom in the light of the moon and hide during the day."
The knight only looked at them closer.
They followed Myara into the building. Both Merlin and Myara nodded to the woman who stood guard inside the door. She wore leather armour,had her combat stave in hand and a sword at her hip.
Merlin and Myara both tapped their own staves on the ground and a soft glow began to emanate from both the crystals atop them.
Merlin smiled when again Bedivere didn't react to the magic and only asked, "Is there some significance to the flowers?"
"The Goddess we serve Sir Bedivere" Myara led them down the stairs into the depths below the house, "is Tivr. She is a moon goddess. The flowers symbolise her House."
She cast a look back to the knight, "You should count yourself lucky Sir knight. Few men are permitted into the Tivr Temple. One of which is the Head Priest of the Catha."
"The only other is me" Merlin admitted when Myara said nothing more and the knight had looked at him for more. "The Tivr are quite protective of their land and their methods. While the Catha train their minds to both perform and resist torture, eventually being able to separate their mind from their physical body. The Tivr unite the two. They train their bodies and their magic, when they have it, for combat. Until mind and body are one and combat is instinct. That's also why, if someone managed to steal something from here… its quite troubling that they succeeded."
It was at that moment that they entered the main chamber of the Tivr temple and Merlin couldn't help but laugh at the amazed look on his bodyguard's face.
Where one might expect to find a small alter to the goddess. There was a cavern the size of the Camelot training grounds. Several arenas were set up in the space and Tivr priestesses and initiates alike battled fiercely in each. With fists, swords, staffs and staves none held back.
The bout closest to them ended and the two participants turned towards the statue in the centre of the space and bowed.
"We don't give Tivr gifts or prayers" it looked as if Myara was also enjoying the astonishment on Bedivere's face, "We give her our battles."
A/N:
This arc was also really fun to write and I'm actually quite happy with how it turned out in the end seeing as when I started it, I had no idea what was going to happen lol.
Thanks and stay strong,
I ;)