Merlyn's Only Hope

Valiant P1

Merlyn hated being a servant. The chores were endless, mundane and generally, quite cruel. Arthur seemed to have forgotten the conversation they'd had at the feast, unsurprising, considering the substantial amount he'd had to drink that night. Hence, he decided to treat her like she was little more than the speck of mud on his finely polished, if she did say so herself, boots.

That morning, Arthur wanted to train. Merlyn, who hadn't had the opportunity to even pick up a dagger any sharper than a butter knife during the last few weeks, was actually relieved when he had thrust some beaten armour into her arms, ordering that she should collect a sword from the armoury and join him on the field. Discarding most of the pile, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to move in the full set, she opted for the basics, carefully choosing a light sword, and set out towards the training grounds.

Arthur rolled his eyes when she shuffled across the field, but didn't ask where her armour was. He gestured for her to follow him, taking her to a more deserted corner of the training grounds.

"You do know I have chores to do? I'm sure any of these knights would think it an honour to spar with the mighty Arthur Pendragon." Merlyn couldn't resist. However much she wanted to pick up a blade, she was curious. Why would the prince want to train for the upcoming tournament with a servant when he had so many willing, eager recruits at his disposal? For all he knew, she may not even know how to use a sword.

He hid a snort of suspicious amusement with a cough before managing, unsuccessfully, to regain his composure. "Because," he said, as if her question was an obvious one, "I've already fought them. And I currently have nothing better to do than watch you fall on your arse."

Merlyn chuckled, her sword hanging loosely from her hand. Before she could reply with another sarky comment, Arthur, rather unfairly, attacked, barely giving her a chance to parry. Apparently the prince didn't feel like entertaining her prattle.

"So much for a warning." she muttered launching into her own set of blows, impressed, but not shocked, by his ability to defend himself. After all, he had been trained to kill since birth. She didn't notice that the knights had stopped their own training in order to watch their fight. It was evident that they were evenly matched, and, without surprise on Merlyn's side, Arthur managed to get in a few hard hits, all reciprocated almost instantly by the servant. It was like a whirlwind of movement, one moment, Merlyn was on the floor, her sword scattering across the dirt. The next, it was Arthur rolling away from her blade, his eyes scanning her form for weakness. Eventually, Arthur knocked Merlyn's sword far out of reach both of them tumbling to the floor, Arthur hovering over her, his sword at her neck.

And her dagger at his.

It was a draw.

"We're making a habit out of this." she smirked, motioning to the position they found themselves in when he didn't make any attempt to move.

Arthur got up, panting furiously. He ignored her comment, wanting to accuse her of cheating, but he knew that he should've foreseen the concealed daggers and, frankly, he had attacked first.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of his knights helping Merlyn up and, rather than letting her go, ducked his head to kiss her hand.

"My lady." He murmured, bowing far too respectfully for the likes of a servant.

"Thank you Sir ..."

"Valiant" he supplied, bowing again. "At your service."

Arthur just stared, surprised to see that Merlyn, rather than blushing furiously, just looked amused at Valiant's weak attempt at flirting. For a knight to be interested in a servant was far from unheard of, but for one to be so polite about it was a different matter. Merlyn should've been swooning, and yet, she didn't appear even vaguely intrigued.