Merlyn's Only Hope

The Moment of Truth P2

Merlyn had followed Will into his home, mildly annoyed by his antics.

"He knows what he's doing, you've got to trust him." she pleaded, leaning against the door and folding her arms. Will ignored her, shifting random objects into different places throughout the room, a nervous tic that he'd picked up from his mother. "Look, when I first met Arthur I was exactly like you, I hated him. I even threw a knife at his head." Will looked up when she said that, raising his eyebrow, but still saying nothing.

"I thought he was pompous and arrogant."

"Well nothing has changed there, then." her oldest friend finally spoke up, but still refused to meet Merlyn's eyes.

"But in time, I came to respect him, for what he stands for, for what he does." she pushed, knowing her life would be far easier if Will and Arthur got along.

"Yeah, I know what he stands for. Princes, Kings, all men like him." Will's voice trembled from something a little more powerful than anger.

"Will," Merlyn spoke softly, "Don't bring what happened to your father into this."

"I'm not." he looked away, perhaps a little ashamed. "Why are you defending him so much? You're just his servant."

"And he's also my... friend." Will was in no position to find out the truth at that moment, not that she had any inclination to tell him.

"Friends don't lord it over one another."

"He's not like that." she tried, knowing what she said wouldn't make a difference.

"Really? Well let's see, when the fighting begins, who he sends out to die first; I guarantee that it won't be him." Will said spitefully, ignorant of her Prince's true nature.

She couldn't take this anymore. "I trust Arthur with my life."

"Is that so? So he knows about your secret then?" Merlyn flinched, giving Will a warning look. "Face it Merlyn, you're living a lie. Just like you were here. You're Arthur's servant, nothing more: otherwise you'd tell him the truth."

Merlyn couldn't explain to Will the endless intricate details of her destiny, nor how much was at stake if Arthur ever found out before his time. He simply wouldn't understand. So instead of berating him with her truths, she said nothing, storming out of the building and grabbing her bow from her mother's house. She was going hunting.

∆

Three rabbits, a deer and two squirrels later, she returned with enough food to share a meager ration amongst the villagers. If people could live off only meat, there would be less of a problem: most of the villagers owned some kind of long ranged weapon, ones that they'd been taught to use when they were small. Unfortunately, they needed their grains for bread; there was little chance of survival on rabbit meat alone. Besides, there was less game in the forest these days.

After a small meal, they settled down, splitting into Merlyn's old bedroom and the living room. Hunith had tried to insist that Arthur or Morgana took her bed, but they refused. Well, Morgana refused, pointedly stepping on Arthur's fault so that he would also decline. Hence, the prince deciding to drag a rather bewildered Merlyn into her old room, picking up some blankets along the way, and closing the door behind them. They lay down side by side, sharing the few scraps of cloth that they'd brought with them, hoping that it would be enough shelter from the cold. She hadn't asked how training had gone, deciding that she didn't want to hear Arthur's true thoughts on their chances, not yet anyway.

Wordlessly, he grabbed her by the hip, turning her body to face his, their faces so close that their noses were almost touching. They stayed like this, looking into eachother's eyes for what seemed like hours, before Arthur shifted onto his back, looking up at the old, wooden roof above their heads.