Merlyn's Fate

Tournament II

Arthur had been caught up in so many meetings over the last month that he'd barely had time to train, sleep and eat. Merlyn had complained on more than one occasion about how much he smelt, but his father had sent him to talk to the council for hours on end, discussing the treaties between all the great kingdoms. In progress was an agreement which could ensure peace for decades to come; the four Kings were visiting Camelot to finalise the treaty. This meant at least a fortnight of negotiations, so both himself and the knights would be stuck representing Camelot, lining the room in red cloaks rather than training and drinking. Hence, Sir Leon, as Captain of the Guard, had convinced the Prince and his servant to once again compete in an unofficial tournament, one to keep morale high and gossip flowing during the coming weeks, not that the knight particularly cared about the last part.

And so, Arthur found himself using his last free moments before the arrival of the King's to stand in the arena, awaiting his opponent. He couldn't give her time off on this occasion, so if Merlyn won, she would receive five gold pieces of the Prince's own savings. Honestly, he'd give them to her anyway: he'd been made fully aware that she hadn't been paid for the past month when Gaius had not so subtly reminded him that slavery wasn't practised in Camelot. It would be gross overpay, but, if she did lose, he was sure she'd be asking for a raise by the end of the week.

Every person of royalty had been allotted their own personal servant, all, except Princess Vivian, a beautiful but incredibly rude woman, one who Arthur and most of the servants had been forced to meet, much to their displeasure. She could be considered rather charming, but, thanks to her father's doting, he was fully aware that she tended to be quite horrible to anyone she deemed below her. The main problem was the fact that she considered everyone who wasn't royalty beneath her station. The girl who was meant to be serving the Princess had downright refused, insolence that had been punished, but the servant had refused to back down. Apparently one of the drawbacks of having such an unusual servant as Merlyn in a prominent position meant that the others were following suit in some of her mannerisms, meaning that absolutely nobody would volunteer to look after her Royal Highness during her stay. Hence, if Merlyn was to lose at least two of the three rounds, she would have to attend to Vivian for the entire duration of her stay.

Arthur couldn't see that going down very well, especially with his servant's lack of manners, and he very much doubted she could seduce Vivian in the same way she had ensnared him. He was sure that Merlyn didn't swing that way.

Looking up at the glittering sun, the Prince couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips, the image of his servant with another girl, especially one as pretty as Vivian, making him blush a light pink. In the crowd, he spotted raven hair, her piercing blue eyes meeting his as she jumped the barrier, careful to stop her arrows falling from the quiver at her hip. Her bow was slung across her back, but she reached for it now, her stern expression spoiled by the faint twinkle of amusement in her eyes. Arthur knew that she'd loved their last tournament just as much as he had, even if she'd chosen to save a druid boy rather than bathe in her glory. It was such a shame that he wouldn't give her the chance to win again, that he would have to steal her victory from right under her nose.

But that would start in the second round, because nobody beat Merlyn at archery.

"You're late." he hissed as the crowd grew quiet, all eyes on the two figures in the centre of the sand. On one side, a target had been set up, the competitors each having three arrows to score the highest number of points within the rings. It wasn't far, maybe thirty yards away, so it would be expected that no arrow would leave the third circle.

"I was busy polishing the buttons on your red jacket sire. You need to dress your best after this crushing defeat, so that when you're sulking, you can at least look pretty." Merlyn's scowl quickly turned into a mischievous grin; she practically skipped alongside him as they made their way to the shooting line that had been dug into the sand.