WATCH THEM BOW ¥ ARTHUR PENDRAGON. (ON HOLD!)

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"I'm not putting that thing on," Merlin snapped as she stared down at the pile of armour the prince had provided for her to "help" train him for the tournament that was up in coming.

She stared at the pile in distaste and disbelief. "It's for your protection," Arthur tried and Merlin glared at him blankly.

"My protection or your amusement?" She asked bitingly with arms crossed defensively over her chest. Her dragon broach glinting proudly the rubies dancing in the early morning light. "Besides," she knocked on the leather she was wearing. "I'm wearing my armour."

She had switched usual brown leather jerkin for a black leather tight fitted armour, with shoulder bells. She wore it over her red shirt, her broach pinned to it.

Arthur vaguely noted that the handful of times he had seen Merlin, except for at the feast and when she had just woken and today, she was wearing her jerkin. Even a blind man could tell that it was not a simple leather jerkin, it had been greatly reinforced. It was form of protection.

The fact that she almost always had it on clued him into the fact that she was a slightly paranoid individual, who took extra precautions just in case. Even he noticed that the bards clothes had been reinforced as well.

That didn't stop him from mocking her choice, "That, Merlin, is not armour, that is a corset."

Merlin rolled her grey eyes, "Corsets have been known to save women from sharp projectiles."

Arthur tried not scoff, "Just put on the armour."

"I think not."

"Why not?"

Merlin glowered at the armour as if it had wronged her, "Firstly, it smells like something died in it," she started trying to keep the sneer off her face, "Secondly, I don't think you've noticed but I'm a woman who is five foot six on good day. That armour was built for a man who's is six foot on a bad day. Badly fitted armour can be just as dangerous as no armour at all," she stated quite logically.

Arthur scowled.

"Besides," she shrugged her shoulders, "My fighting style requires me to be light on my feet."

Light and quiet, metal made too much noise. It was too clunky. Hunting a monster in such a thing would kill you before you tried to kill them. That was not something favourable.

"Fine," Arthur conceded slightly miffed he couldn't have her staggering around like a fool and with the small smirk Merlin directed at him she knew it too.

Merlin picked up the sword that was with the pile of armour. She looked it up and down unable to stop herself from wincing at how badly kept it was.

"What's the matter now?"

"It's dull and sad to look at," she answered with shrug.

"We're practicing."

"You should always practice like you're in an actual battle, if you think your opponent fights fair, you're stupid," Merlin lectured. Regurgitating everything Geralt had beat her over the head with since she was thirteen.

Arthur stared at her for a long moment, "Let's just start."

Merlin bowed mockingly, "Ready when you are, Lord."