The Living Stone (A Merlin Fanfiction)

A new day in Camelot was greeted with a ray of sunshine and the relentless “moo”-ing of a herd of cattle, taunting any hungry passerby that may walk the cobblestone path. One particularly starving passerby named Ismene was severely tempted by one grazing cow that lifted its head from the field and stuck its green tongue out to her. She clutched her stomach, as she licked her lips and pressed forward through the main gates after eyeing the potential breakfast for a moment too long. The owner of the cattle came out with a pitchfork yelling threats at Ismene. Frightened, she took into the morning crowd of the streets of Camelot. Confusing and busy as it was she felt the slightest bit of satisfaction in knowing in such a place with so many people and so many notches, her father could never find her. She smiled her toothy smile to herself as she took another step into the city. ‘Surely,’ she thought to herself, ‘I can find a job to be done without my hands.’

“Merlin, I need you to muck out the stables,” Arthur shrugged out a command instinctively, being able to smell the dung from the training grounds. “That smell is worse than your breath.”

“But better than your socks,” Merlin joked and smiled, attempting to lighten the prince’s mood. Some of the knights laughed. Arthur did not. A tighter clutch on the handle of his sword showed exactly how much his mood was dulled. Merlin gave a quick bow, biting his lip, and hurried to the stables.

After a session in the stables, Merlin emerged with at least three barrels full of horse dung. He wondered aloud what kind of grain they’re feeding these horses. His daily session of talking to himself was interrupted however with a crash in the merging city street that led into the open yards of the castle. Merlin sat the last of the dung down and approached the scene with caution.

“Miserable thief!” a farmer selling his wares declared at a pile of fruits that had fallen from his cart to the ground. “What makes you think you can just steal my harvest for your breakfast?! I’ll have the guards on you for this!”

“No please, I wasn’t stealing,” replied the fruit pile. A girl emerged from beneath it, and Merlin felt a surge of his magic rush through him. He felt goose bumps on his skin even though the morning was warm and the sun still shone high with hardly a cloud to disguise it. The girl’s hair was bright as the sun, and her skin looked warm as its light. “I swear I wasn’t stealing. I just tripped, honest!”

The farmer kicked her out of the pile and spat at her. “And you just happened to knock my whole cart of wares down?!”

“Yes! I’m so sorry,” the girl, Ismene, stayed on the ground as she apologized. “I’m sorry, please forgive me!”

“You’ve ruined the lot of my harvest!” the farmer continued to scream, causing the rubbernecks to look for entertainment. “Guards! Help! Thief!” he called out louder. Merlin looked back over his shoulder and saw some of the knights and Arthur rushing to answer the call. Merlin followed after Arthur at a steady pace.

“What happened here?” Arthur questioned the farmer, eyeing Ismene while she stayed in her spot on the floor.

“Sire, this girl was trying to steal from my stand, and while attempting to snatch herself some breakfast, managed to knock the whole of the wares to the ground!” the farmer started up again in anger.