"The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Merlyn is sent to Camelot and things get a bit tricky from there.
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Mercia and Camelot would be joined as a union. Merlyn knew little about either kingdom from anyone but her mother, who was from Camelot before she had left to Ealdor, and Arthur, who both told her that things between the two kingdoms had been... difficult. Many have fought and died because of the rift between Mercia and Camelot, which was why Bayard and Uther sought to mend the ties between them and form a bond.
Merlyn didn't mind; one step further from Arthur being harmed was all she cared about, so the bond was a bonus to her destiny. However, since Uther was a fan of celebratory feasts and, since she was a servant, she was forced to assist in the preparations and had to move bags and bags of potatoes and candles and whatever else they needed. Merlyn wasn't the strongest person in Albion, so she struggled each time she had to get something heavy; she thought she would implode from all the pain in her back. She could see Gaius in front of her in the corridor, holding a simple bucket which weighed a thing.
"Why am I always stuck being the donkey?" Merlyn groaned. The pain was moving from her lower back up between her shoulder blades and causing her shoulders to slump. "I'm not strong enough for this."
"You're a servant, Merlyn," Gauis pointed out. "It's what you're supposed to do. And I do recall that you told me that you didn't mind being a servant."
"Be that as it may, my arms are going to be a foot longer by the end of today. Thank god Uther's not a total arse to his workers, though, or I'd be dead." Merlyn commented.
While Uther could be an evil man to those who committed treachery, or used witchcraft, he would never be called cruel to those who worked as his servants. They were, along with those who had money but no real noble title, treated fairly and given a place at his feasts, although, in the Lower Hall, away from the nobility.
"It's character building. As the old proverb says, hard work breeds," Gauis paused. "... A harder soul."
Merlynn noticed that Gauis had hesitated and furrowed her brow in confusion. She knew that he had lied, if not to keep her working. "You made that up,"
"No, I didn't," Gaius denied.
"Yes, you did. That was false encouragement, Gaius," Merlyn accused.
'It would've worked," Gauis muttered to himself.
Merlyn glanced up seconds before someone knocked into her shoulder and sent both them and her into the ground; she glanced up to see a full head of dark hair and the blue colors of a Mercian servant. Her bags were, luckily, still in tact, but all the blankets and cushions he had been holding were scattered across the ground.
"I'm sorry; I didn't see where I was going, and then... I'm so sorry," The servant apologized as he scrambled to pick up all of his things.
Merlyn smiled softly and began to help him. "No, really. It's fine," She couldn't help but laugh a little. He sounded so concerned about his simple mistake, and she just could not hide her amusement at that. It was almost... adorable. "Let me help you..."
