A/N: Back to our regularly scheduled updates now. I guess the advantage of last week's chapter being late, is you only had to wait a couple days for this one. This chapter is also longer than usual. I debated making the last couple of scenes there own chapter, but I think it flows better as one.

Chapter 10: The Sparring Match

Arthur woke to a knock on the door. He sat up and blinked sleepily. Sunlight was streaming brightly into his room. What time was it? By the position of the sun in the sky, it was much later than he usually slept. Of course, he hadn't gotten to bed until quite late the night before. The feast to welcome the guests from Essetir had gone quite late into the night.

Arthur's stomach squirmed at the thought of the guests from Essetir. They weren't really guests, were they? At least not all of them. One of them, the princess, was set to marry Arthur's father in a little less than a week. She had seemed…. nice, Arthur had to admit grudgingly, if only to himself, but he still wasn't sure why his father had to go and get married. Their lives were just fine the way they were, weren't they?

Arthur had had nearly a year to get used to the idea and he had even thought he had, but it all seemed so much more real now that the princess was here in the castle.

Another knock on the door jolted Arthur from his thoughts. "Come in," he called. He wasn't surprised when a servant entered the room, though he was surprised the servant hadn't come to wake him earlier.

"Good morning, Sire," a servant holding a tray greeted him with a bow, "I brought your breakfast earlier, but you were still asleep and I didn't want to wake you."

He nodded his head at the table.

Arthur frowned slightly, "If you already brought my breakfast, what's that?" he asked looking at the tray.

"Ah, well, I assumed the food from before would be quite cold by now, so I took the liberty of bringing you a fresh, hot plate," the servant explained. He set the tray he was carrying on the table, switching it with the old one.

"After you eat, I am to escort you to the entrance hall," he continued.

Arthur frowned, "The entrance hall? Why?"

"The two princes from Essetir will be meeting you here," the servant explained, "The king wishes you to spend the day with them.

"Why?" Arthur asked bluntly, and the servant's polite smile wavered slightly.

"They are royal guests," he said, "And as you are in the same age range, King Uther, as well as the boys' parents, thought it might be good for the three of you to spend some time together while the adults are engaged in business."

Arthur frowned. He didn't think they were in the same age range, not really. One of the princes… Arthur couldn't remember his name right now, was several years older than Arthur and the other Merlin… the prince whose mother was going to marry Arthur's father… was a lot younger.

Arthur frowned. Merlin had chattered incessantly at the feast last night. He didn't want to spend the day with a chattery little kid.

"Did my father say anything else?" he asked the servant, hoping to find a way out of this.

The servant nodded, "I was just about to come to that. He wished for me to express to you that Prince Cenred and Prince Merlin are royal guests, and as the prince of Camelot he wishes for you to be a good host to them, as your actions reflect on the kingdom."

So much for finding a way out of this. Arthur couldn't let his father down. At least now he knew the older prince's name. Forgetting the names of your guests probably wasn't something a good host did.

He climbed out of bed and went to the table, gulping down the food as fast as he could. Afterwards, the servant helped him get dressed, and then hurried him along through the corridors and down the stairs until they reached the castle entrance hall.

Cenred and Merlin were already there. The older boy leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, while the younger seemed to be examining the tapestries on the walls with curiosity.

"It's about time," Cenred drawled, "You've kept us waiting.

The younger boy frowned, "But, Cenred, we just got here. And don't you remember what Uncle Cassian said about being polite?"

Spots of color appeared in Cenred's cheeks, "And who asked you, anyway?" he muttered, "Just shut it, Merlin."

Arthur wanted to laugh, but he had a feeling that wouldn't be being a very good host

"I'm Prince Arthur," he said, holding out a hand to Cenred, "But I suppose you know that already."

Cenred looked at him with what seemed like disdain for a moment, but before Arthur could bristle with indignation, he took his offered hand, "Prince Cenred of Essetir, and I guess you know that the pipsqueak over there is Merlin."

"I am not a pipsqueak!" Merlin retorted indignantly. He held out his hand to Arthur too, and after a moment of hesitation, Arthur took it. He cringed inwardly, the younger boy's hand was slightly sticky. He released it quickly and wiped his hand on his clothes.

"My father says I am to be your host today," Arthur said, trying to sound important and in-charge, "Shall I show you around the castle?"

"Yeah!" Merlin nodded excitedly while Cenred only shrugged in a bored manner, "I suppose."

Trying not to let it irk him, Arthur led the boys on a brief tour of the castle. It was too big to really explore the whole thing, of course. To do that thoroughly would take days, and well, a lot of the rooms weren't really very interesting. He was proud to show off his father's throne room, though. He was sure it must be much finer than whatever they had in Essestir… even if he'd never actually seen Essetir's throne room.

Next he took them to the council room, but the doors were closed. That must be where his father was meeting with the grownups from Essetir.

Arthur showed the two a few other things. Merlin kept asking questions, which was annoying. Especially because Arthur didn't know the answer to some of them. And really… some of them were just ridiculous, like when he asked how many stones the whole castle was made of. Why would Arthur know that? Why would anyone care about that?

The only thing that kept Arthur from snapping at Merlin to stop asking so many questions was remembering the servant's words about being a good host.

Cenred had no such reservations however and after a few minutes of non-stop chatter, he snapped, "Will you shut it, already?"

Merlin's face crumpled a little, but he did go silent, and Arthur couldn't help but be grateful for that. It was the same thing he had wanted to say after all.

"I'm bored," Cenred announced a moment later, "do you have a training arena? That's what I want to see."

Arthur puffed his chest out proudly, "Of course! Camelot has the best knights in the world! And someday I'll be one of them."

Cenred scoffed, "Well that isn't true. Essetir's knights are definitely better."

"Are not" Arthur argued.

"Are too," Cenred insisted.

"No they're-" Arthur started in annoyance, then again remembered what the servant had said. His father wanted him to be a good host. "I'm sure Essetir's knights are also very good," he allowed, attempting graciousness, then quickly added, "So do you want to see the training arena or not?"

"Of course," Cenred replied.

"I'm practically a knight already," he boasted as Arthur began to lead the way back to the entrance hall.

Despite himself, Arthur felt impressed and a little envious, "Are you really?"

"Well, I am still in training," Cenred admitted, "But I'm practically done. I bet I'll be a knight by the time I'm sixteen, probably earlier."

"How old are you now?" Arthur asked.

"Fourteen," Cenred replied, "I could really be a knight now if I wanted. I'm just as good as any of them. But Father says I have to wait. He still acts like I'm a little kid he has to make sure doesn't get hurt. He can be so overprotective."

Arthur could empathize with that. He didn't know if he would call his father protective exactly, but Uther wouldn't let Arthur have a real sword yet, just a wooden one. He said a real one would be too heavy for Arthur. He didn't want to admit that to the older boy though.

"Father says that one day when I'm older, I'll lead Camelot's whole army," he said instead.

He half-expected Cenred to make a disparaging remark, but the older boy actually grinned, "Yeah? I will too. My father leads it now, Grandfather is a bit old for that sort of thing."

They'd reached the castle doors at this point. Arthur had almost forgotten that Merlin was with them, and he looked around hastily to make sure the younger boy was still following. Letting one of the foreign princes get lost probably wouldn't be good host behavior either.

He waited for the guards to push the doors open, then led the way out into the courtyard. From there, it wasn't too far to the training grounds.

"So, are you any good?" Cenred asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Arthur glanced back at him.

"With a sword," Cenred clarified, "You have started training haven't you?"

"Of course I have," Arthur said quickly, "I've been training for ages." Sure it was with a wooden sword, but that still counted.

Cenred grinned, "We should spar."

"Huh?" Arthur was caught off-guard. He sized Cenred up. The older boy was… a lot taller than him, and he knew how to use a real sword, while Arthur had only ever used a wooden one. He'd only trained against boys his own age before too, maybe a year or two older, but never as old as Cenred.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

Cenred's cocky words made Arthur puff up instantly. "You don't need to go easy on me," he blustered, "I'm the best swordsman in my class."

Cenred smirked, "So that's a yes to sparring then?"

Arthur couldn't let Cenred think he was afraid, "You're on." And with that, he turned and marched across the grounds toward the training arena, trying to appear confident- and not think about the fact that the last time he had tried to impress an older boy, he'd ended up with a broken arm and bruises all over his body.

They reached the training arena and Arthur was both glad and nervous to see that there wasn't anybody around. If there had been, he was sure they would have stopped him and Cenred from sparring. On the other hand… maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad thing. He could get out of this while still saving face.

"Where are the swords?" Cenred asked, looking around

"The real swords are locked up in the shed," Arthur answered, grateful for that fact at least; as much as he had insisted to his father he was ready for one… he had tried to lift one once and those things were heavy, " "But they leave the wooden ones out in case anyone wants to come and do some training on their own time." That was mostly for the children in training of course. Real knights had swords of their own.

Cenred huffed, "Wooden swords are for little kids. Too bad I left my sword in Essetir. Father said there was no reason for me to bring it."

"You have your own sword?" Arthur asked, slightly awed.

"Of course," Cenred answered, "Don't you?"

Arthur shifted, "Er… not yet. I'll get one soon though." He did have a wooden sword of his own up in his room, but he hadn't thought to bring it out here. And Cenred wouldn't be impressed by that anyway.

Cenred sighed and walked over to the display of wooden swords, "Well, I guess we'll have to make do with these."

"Yeah, it's a shame," Arthur agreed quickly, trying to sound disappointed by the fact. Cenred quickly grabbed the biggest wooden sword he could find, while Arthur took one that was about the same size as his own. He was tempted to grab a big one like Cenred's but he remembered something his swordsmanship instructor had told him, that a great swordsman always used a sword that was just right for him.

Merlin- who Arthur had again almost forgotten about, came over and started tugging on a sword too.

"What are you doing?" Cenred asked his cousin witheringly.

Merlin frowned, "I want to play too!"

"We aren't playing," condescension dripped from Cenred's tone, "We're sparring. And you're too little and clumsy. You'll just get in the way."

Merlin's face fell. Most of Arthur thought Cenred was right, but a small part remembered how angry he had been when Kay had called him a baby. "You can watch us," he told Merlin, "Every tournament has an audience."

Merlin seemed slightly cheered up by this. He nodded and stopped trying to grab a sword. He started to trot over to the stands, then looked back and stuck his tongue out at his cousin, "I hope Arthur wins." Cenred ignored Merlin, though Arthur couldn't help but grin a little.

The two older boys made their way to the center of the training arena.

"Should we warm up first?" Arthur he had training, their teacher always led them through some warm-up exercises before having the boys practice sparring.

"Nah," Cenred shrugged, swinging his sword to test the balance, "I don't need any warm-up. Do you?"

The way he asked it implied he'd think less of Arthur if he answered yes.

"No, I'm ready," Arthur answered quickly, moving into position a few feet away from Cenred. He gave his sword a few test swings and it felt about the same in his hand as his own sword did.

Cenred came at him without warning, and Arthur just managed to move out of the way.

Cenred laughed, "I thought you said you were ready!"

"I am ready!" Arthur quickly swung his sword toward Cenred. Cenred blocked the swing easily.

"I hope you can do better than that," he swung for Arthur again and this time Arthur managed to parry. He felt a flash of triumph, but his moment of victory was fleeting.

Cenred was bigger and stronger than Arthur, and he had been training for longer. At first it was all Arthur could do to fend off Cenred's blows, parrying and dodging. Cenred's reach was long, and Arthur could barely get in close enough to attempt a strike of his own.

But after a few minutes, Arthur noticed something. As tall as Cenred was, his sword was still really too long for him. The sword he had chosen was the one their instructor used for one-on-one practice with the boys, and he was a full-grown man. When Cenred swung the sword, his swings were clumsy, off-balance. Arthur's sword on the other hand, was exactly the right length for him, comfortable in his hand and easy to swing.

Something else his instructor often said came back to Arthur. Take note of your opponent's weaknesses, and use them against them. They can be just as important as your own strengths.

He waited for Cenred's next clumsy swing of the sword. When it came, Arthur ducked right under it and sprang forward, striking at Cenred's legs.

The older boy stumbled and shouted in surprise, but managed to keep himself from falling over.

Arthur felt a rush of satisfaction as he darted away again. He'd gotten in a hit.

"That was just a lucky shot," Cenred said through gritted teeth.

"That was talent," Arthur shot back, parrying another blow from Cenred.

Despite his words, Arthur's blow seemed to have spurred Cenred into either anger or the realization that he needed to take Arthur seriously. His swings were more aggressive now. One clipped Arthur in the chest, and Arthur gritted his teeth to keep from squeaking in pain.

However, the more powerful Cenred's blows became, the more clumsy they became too. And Arthur was fast. He found himself dodging easily, which seemed to frustrate Cenred even more.

"I thought we were fighting, not dancing," he jeered, "Are you afraid to use your sword again?"

Arthur dodged another blow, nettled by Cenred's words but trying not to let it distract him. On Cenred's next swing, Arthur again ducked in close, but this time instead of the older boy's legs he aimed for his wrist, giving it a good smack with the flat of his blade. It worked just as Arthur had hoped it would. Cenred grunted, and his sword clattered to the ground. Arthur quickly kicked it away, holding his own sword up, pointed toward Cenred's throat, "I win."

He was breathing hard, but the glow of victory was warm in his chest and his smile was bright. From the direction of the stands, he heard Merin give a cheer, and grin widening, he turned and gave a small bow.

When he turned back to Cenred, the older boy's face was sour. He glowered at Arthur for a moment, then turned away to retrieve his sword with a huff, "It's only because of this stupid wooden sword. It's not weighted right. If I'd had my own sword, I would have creamed you.

Deep down, Arthur knew Cenred was probably right, but he wasn't going to admit it aloud. Besides, it was Cenred's own fault he hadn't chosen a sword that was the right length for him. Didn't that mean Arthur was the better warrior anyway? Making wise decisions and being prepared was half the battle- that was something else his instructor had said once.

He wasn't going to let Cenred's bad attitude spoil his mood. He trotted happily over to the sword stand and carefully put his sword away. Cenred followed him over and threw his in haphazardly, knocking over half the other swords.

"You fought well," Arthur offered, trying to show good sportsmanship, like his instructor was always talking about.

Cenred just scoffed, "Of course I did."

Merlin scampered onto the field to join them. "That was amazing!" he told Arthur enthusiastically, "You really won! Even though Cenred is bigger!"

Arthur felt himself puff up at the younger boy's words. Cenred's scowl only grew darker.

"Whatever," he groused, "I'm going back to my room." And with that he stalked off, leaving the two younger boys behind.

Arthur exchanged a look with Merlin. He had been told to spend the day with the two princes, but what was he supposed to do if one of them didn't want to spend the day with him?

"Don't mind Cenred," Merlin told him. He giggled, "He's just grouchy because you beat him. "

Arthur shrugged it off. "I suppose we should get back to the castle too," he told Merlin, "The adults must be done with their meeting by now, and it will be time for dinner soon enough."

As they made their way back to the castle, Merlin kept up a steady stream of chatter. Arthur didn't find it quite as annoying this time, though he did start to tune it out after a while. At least Merlin wasn't asking him a bunch of questions.

By the time they stood once more in the castle entrance hall, Cenred was nowhere to be found. Arthur hoped he had found his way back to his room okay and hadn't gotten lost. Arthur looked around, hoping his father might just happen to be passing through. He couldn't wait to tell him about how he'd beaten a boy much older than him in a spar. Uther was nowhere to be seen, but Arthur knew he would see his father at dinner. He could tell him then, though… maybe not within earshot of Cenred, the older boy was already grumpy enough over the loss.

Arthur supposed he couldn't blame him, really. Cenred was a whole five years older than him, losing to Arthur was like Arthur losing to a four-year-old. He supposed he'd have been pretty upset too if that had happened.

"We better get ready for dinner," Arthur told Merlin, cutting the younger boy off mid-sentence, "Do you know your way back to your room?"

"Um," Merlin looked uncertain, "I think so?"

Arthur sighed. He knew he couldn't let Merlin wander along and get lost, "Okay, I'll take you back. I know where the royal guest quarters are."

Merlin grinned, "Okay!" He reached out and grabbed Arthur's hand.

Arthur pulled away, startled, "What are you doing?"

Merlin blinked, "I always hold my mum's hand when we walk together."

Arthur felt something stir briefly in his chest. He couldn't remember his father ever holding his hand while they walked, not even when he was younger than Merlin.

"Just… just follow me, okay?" he said to Merlin.

There was no elaborate feast tonight. Instead the guests from Essetir were hosted in the Pendragons' private dining room. After taking Merlin back to his room and going back to his own room to wash up, Arthur arrived to find his father already there, along with the king and queen of Essetir and Cenred and his parents. Cenred was still looking slightly sulky.

Arthur took the open seat next to his father. He had been hoping he would get to the dining room before Cenred, so he could tell his father about the sparring match without the other boy overhearing. Oh well, maybe he could tell him later, after the guests had left the room.

Merlin and his mother arrived a minute or so after Arthur. Uther stood up to greet the princess. Arthur watched his father kiss her hand, and he wrinkled his nose slightly. He knew it was court etiquette but it still seemed a little odd to him.

"Did you boys enjoy yourselves today?" King Esmond asked, smiling at his two grandsons and then at Arthur.

Cenred scowled and didn't answer but Merlin nodded happily.

Arthur nodded too, "Yes, sire," he answered politely.

"Did you do anything exciting?" Queen Arianwen asked with a smile of her own.

"I showed Merlin and Cenred around the castle," Arthur offered. He wasn't sure whether that really counted as exciting, but it was what they had done.

"And then Cenred and Arthur had a sparring match!" Merlin piped up, "And Arthur won!"

Arthur felt his father's gaze on him, "Did you really, Arthur?"

Arthur's heart jumped. This was the moment he had been waiting for, though the conditions weren't ideal. He could feel Cenred's glare as hotly as he could feel his father's gaze, "Well… yes. Cenred asked me to spar, and we used the wooden training swords. I… I did disarm him,"

"Only because the stupid sword was too long!" Cenred lashed out angrily, "It wasn't a proper match!"

"Cenred," Prince Cassian's voice held a warning tone, "Learning to lose with grace is just as important as learning to win."

Cenred's mother frowned at her husband. She put a hand on Cenred's shoulder, but he irritably shrugged it off, "If our son says it wasn't a fair fight, then it wasn't a fair fight."

Arthur squirmed uncomfortably. He wanted his father to be proud of his win, but he couldn't tell a lie about it, "His sword was too long for him," he admitted, "It made it hard for him to swing, I think."

"Still, you were able to disarm an opponent much older and bigger than you, who has been training longer than you have, that's no small feat," King Esmond said kindly, smiling at Arthur. Then, looking at his grandson he added, "Nevertheless, I am sure you fought admirably as well, Cenred."

"It isn't your fault you had to use a sword that wasn't the right length for you, my dear," Cenred's mother told him soothingly.

"But there were lots of swords to choose from," Merlin piped up, "Cenred chose the biggest sword on purpose."

Prince Cassian turned to look at his son, "Is that true, Cenred?"

Cenred's face flushed a deep shade of red. Ignoring his father, he glared at Merlin.

"Nobody asked you, anyway, you little bastard!" he shouted at Merlin, "so why don't you learn to keep your mouth shut?"

A hush fell over the table. Arthur didn't know what a bastard was, but from the looks on the adult's faces, what Cenred had said was pretty bad. Princess Hunith in particular looked like she was restraining herself from yelling at her nephew.

"Cenred!" Prince Cassian's voice thundered as he recovered from his shock, "That is enough. You will not speak to your cousin that way. We are guests of Camelot and your behavior is deplorable, especially for a boy your age! In a few years you will be a man, and yet you are behaving like a small child. You will apologize- to King Uther and Prince Arthur and to your cousin, and then you will leave the table immediately and go to your room."

Cenred's mouth dropped open in indignation, "But, Father-"

"This is not up for debate, Cenred."

Cenred pushed himself to his feet angrily.

"I apologize," he said stiffly, looking toward Uther and Arthur.

He turned to go, but his father's voice stopped him, "And to Merlin."

Cenred's face flushed darker.

"I'm sorry," he snarled at Merlin, the ire in his voice making it sound more like a threat than an apology. Then he pushed through the dining room doors, leaving them swinging behind him.

His mother stood up immediately. She curtsied to Arthur's father, "Please excuse me, King Uther, but I must go with my son."

She followed Cenred out of the room, leaving silence in her wake.

Again Prince Cassian was the one to break it, "I am truly sorry for the scene caused by my son, King Uther; his behavior was shameful. I assure you, it won't happen again."

"Well…" Uther cleared his throat, "The boy was embarrassed. A loss is hard to take at that age. And he did apologize. I will think nothing more about it."

As Prince Cassian turned his attention to apologizing to his sister and his nephew, Uther turned his gaze to Arthur, "You did an excellent job, Arthur. Not only winning the fight, though that is an impressive feat, but you also showed honor when you told the truth about Cenred's disadvantage. I am proud of you, son."

He put a hand on Arthur's shoulder and Arthur's heart swelled with happiness. Uther's words were enough to make him nearly forget the ugly scene with Cenred a moment ago. They were certainly enough to make him not care about it.

"Thank you, Father," he was smiling so big it nearly made his cheeks hurt.

"You will be a fine warrior someday," Uther said. He squeezed Arthur's shoulder briefly, then turned his attention back to his guests.

The rest of the dinner continued without anything particularly interesting happening. The conversation was a little stilted and awkward, but Arthur barely noticed. He was still soaring on the feeling of being praised by his father. Nothing could have made him feel better than that. It was even better than how he'd felt after winning the fight earlier. Even his worries about his father getting married and what that would mean were hard to remember when he was so happy.

The glow of happiness carried Arthur through the dinner, and all the way back to his room. He climbed into bed and shut his eyes, wanting to relive his father's words in his head over and over again. Uther had said he was proud of him, and not just for winning the sparring match like Arthur had expected. Arthur had been afraid that if he admitted that Cenred had lost because his sword was too long, that would negate his win in his father's eyes, but instead Uther had said Arthur had shown honor by admitting it. Somehow, that felt even better than his father being proud of him for winning the fight. Arthur knew how important honor was to his father and to being a knight of Camelot.

"Someday, I'll be the best knight Camelot has ever had," he whispered to himself in the darkness. His father would really be proud then.

He envisioned it, himself, older and clad in the armor of a knight of Camelot, kneeling as his father proclaimed him Sir Arthur of Camelot.

Arthur felt cozy and sleepy, as warmed by the memory of his father's praise as he was by the blankets that covered him. At some point, though he couldn't have told anyone when it was, his daydreaming must have drifted into actual dreams, full of shining armor and clashing swords. He saw himself fighting in tournaments and winning each battle as his father looked on proudly. For some reason, Merlin was in his dreams too, cheering and clapping in the stands like he had for Arthur's sparring match with Cenred. Every time Arthur looked over, there he was, jumping up and down, yelling at the top of his lungs. It was funny, but in the dream, his presence felt very natural to Arthur, like Merlin was meant to be there, like he had belonged there all along.

When Arthur woke the next morning, the images of his dreams were hazy, muddled, but the feelings of joy and pride remained. He found himself eager to start the day. Even the thought of spending the day with Merlin again didn't seem so bad, if that was what was expected of him. Merlin wasn't such a bad little kid, really, even if he did talk too much.

Although… Arthur's smile faltered as he wondered if Cenred would have gotten over his anger by now. What had happened at dinner must have left him angrier than ever. Well, Arthur wasn't going to let it bother him. If Cenred was still angry, he'd probably just sulk in his room all day.

Thinking of the incident at dinner reminded Arthur of the word Cenred had called Merlin, the one Arthur had never heard before. He had called him a bastard. Arthur would have thought it meant something like stupid or small, like when Cenred had called Merlin a pipsqueak, but from the reaction of the adults, he knew it must have been something worse. He wondered if Merlin knew what it meant. Could Arthur ask him or would that be rude?

There was a knock on Arthur's door. He knew it must be a servant bringing his breakfast. He pushed the thoughts of Cenred and what he'd called Merlin away. He was in a good mood, and he wasn't going to let anything spoil it. If his father wanted him to spend another day with the princes from Essetir, he would. If Cenred was with them Arthur would be polite, and if he wasn't, well there wasn't anything Arthur could do about that.

Thank you for reading! Any reviews would be greatly appreciated.