Merthur - The King's Champion

Chapter 5 - Branded

A/N - I'm terribly sorry for the long wait! Thank you so much for being patient and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter :) Hopefully I'll be able to update regularly now >.<

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Arthur trudges slowly behind the pair of kings, tuning out Alden's voice as he leads them down the main path of the city. As Alden had promised a week earlier, he's giving them a tour of the arena before the start of the tournament. However, aside from Uther, neither the prince nor Morgana are interested. Uther walks right alongside Alden as they make their way to the circular arena, listening intently to his old friend as Alden explains how the arena had been built. Morgana, from what Arthur can see, appears to be preoccupied with something else. She keeps mumbling to herself, sending suspicious glances towards Alden as she walks beside Arthur. The prince had tried a number of times to get the witch's attention, however, she never heard him, always thinking of something else. 

With a resigned sigh Arthur glances around at his surroundings, deciding that if they were all going to ignore him than he might as well do the same. The sun is up today, shining down brightly upon the buildings that surround them. Most of the townsfolk have their eyes on the royals, whispering excitedly amongst themselves as they watch their king pass. There seems to be much more people than usual today, making the town feel even more crowded as they weave through the streets. He supposes many visitors have come far and wide to watch the Tournament tomorrow. After all there's even a feast tonight to celebrate. 

Arthur frowns at the thought of the feast. He didn't want to go. Especially not when Alden is the one hosting the event. He knows that all he'll hear during the meal is talk of the Tournament, of bets and wagers as they pit sorcerer against sorcerer. No doubt they'll ask him to place his bets as well, wanting to know who the foreign prince thinks will win. Maybe he can sneak away before the feast. Feign an illness and stay in his chambers. 

Arthur heaves another sigh, wondering what he could do when Merlin's tavern catches his eye. He turns to find it  closed, not much of a surprise. The warlock's been quiet for the last few days, not willing to do much of anything other than spar. He still invites Arthur in with a welcoming smile, however he hasn't seen Merlin open the tavern to others for the past two days. Arthur knows there's something bothering him. There has to be. But Merlin always chooses to keep to himself, not willing to share much. Arthur suspects that his foul mood has something to do with the Tournament. Merlin's a warlock after all. It would be everyone's first guess. However, as to what in particular the prince can't be sure. For a brief moment he feels the urge to run over, to knock on the door so he can see Merlin's smiling face once again. However, before he gets the chance, he hears Uther calling him over and he has no choice but to walk away. 

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"And welcome," Alden says with his arms spread wide, "to the arena!"

Arthur stares with wide eyes at the stadium, turning in place as he gazes in awe at the rows upon rows of seats that surround him. King Alden had taken them up to the royal seats where two large thrones and two smaller ones await in a boxed out area, separated from the rest of the crowd. The spot provided the perfect view of the entire stadium below, allowing the occupants to see everything that happened within the ring.

From Arthur's place up top he's able to look down at the men and women training below. He finds practice dummies cluttered around one edge where a few warriors are training. They hack and slash away at the straw, cutting it into tiny pieces before turning around and facing another. Others near the centre of the arena spar with one another using shields, swords, axes, maces, or any other weapon Arthur can think of. Some of the fighters are better than others, being able to knock down their fellow warriors with one slash of their weapon while others can barely stand under the weight of their armour. The scene is reminiscent of one he sees on the training grounds in Camelot frequently except for two major differences. One is the large number of guards that surround the edges of the arena, both above as well as below, and the gates leading inside. The guards in the stadium stand as still as statues, watching the people inside train while they keep their hands on their swords. Archers patrol up high, their bows at the ready as they watch closely. The other major difference is the use of magic. He can see the fighters fly across the ground without so much as a kick. He sees fire conjured in the palms of sorcerers before being sent towards an opponent. Arthur finds himself watching the sorcerers fight, studying their movements, learning how they work. He's intrigued at their abilities, about how they're able to cast spells while in the middle of combat, however before he loses himself in his own thoughts he feels Morgana grasp his wrist.