CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
THE LADY OF THE LAKE ( i. )

Calliope's morning routine is interrupted.

As she stands with Leon in the corner of the council chambers to discuss their patrol of the Northern border, the doors are pulled open in one loud motion, and a scruffy, stout man storms before the King.

The assassin crinkles her nose, "Who pissed in this guy's porridge?"

"Ah, Halig," Uther greets him as he looks up from the parchment he was scribbling on, Gaius seated beside him, "you come bearing gifts?"

Halig bows, "Yes, Sire. A druid girl, but she escaped last night—here in Camelot."

"Don't worry. We'll soon find her," King Uther glances to the corner of the room. "Calliope can handle the search. Take some guards with you."

The man walks around the table, his eyes overcome with a new sense of fear, "You should warn them, Sire. The girl is dangerous. An informer told me she was cursed," Calliope almost scoffs. Join the club.

"How so?"

"He didn't know, but he said even the druids were frightened of her. They cast her out of their camp."

Gaius turns his gaze to the man, "It's against all the druids' beliefs to reject those in need of care."

"Then why would they do such a thing?"

"I dread to think."

Calliope steps forward as the King issues his commands, "Set up sentries on all the gates."

"We should search the lower town, Sire," Halig says, glancing once to Calliope. "Someone may be harboring her."

"You think she had help?" Gaius asks.

"I saw two figures running away."

The King nods, "Give Halig all the help he needs. I want this girl and her accomplice found."

When Gaius and Calliope lock eyes, they both seem to be thinking the same thing: Merlin. Who else would be idiotic enough to get involved in this?

She doesn't have a chance to talk to the physician or even to express her concerns for Merlin and his usual heroic gestures that put his life in danger because Halig is crowding her, barking commands.

"We will set up a search in the low town. Don't let anyone through until I've looked at them and ensured they aren't who I'm searching for. Also, I'll need several guards to—"

Calliope holds up a hand in front of his face, and he stumbles over his last few words, "Let me stop you right there. I'm not about to take orders from a man who couldn't even hold onto his own cargo."

"Listen here, you little bitch—"

She holds up her hand again, "I'm not talking to you anymore."

With that, she motions for Sir Leon to follow her, and several guards fall into step with them, leaving Halig and his men standing in the council chambers. All they can do is hurry after the group of warriors, trying to listen in on their words.

"We search from both ends and meet in the middle," Calliope says adjusting her belt as they walk. "I'll take a group to the low town, you start with castle grounds. We can expand the search to the surrounding woods if need be. Seeing all these guards poking around will spook her. She'll be too scared to stay put. If we work on separate ends, we can snuff her out."

Halig jogs to catch up with them, breathing heavily to match their strides as they make their way to the armory, "You don't even know what she looks like."

"Don't need to," Calliope ducks into the armory, grabbing the nearest spear to spin around until it's pointed at Halig's face. He jumps back. "We've got this one handled, Helga."

"It's Halig."

Calliope laughs to herself, letting the hand holding the spear drop to her side, and several guards join in, "Oh, that's my bad."

"And why has the King put a woman in charge of this task?" Calliope's smile fades into a glare. "A disrespectful snake like you should be scrubbing my boots—"

People should know better than to prod at her nerves when the assassin is holding a deadly weapon. She images impaling his skull with it.

Instead, Sir Leon steps forward, his jaw clenched, "If you have a problem with Cal, perhaps you should take it up with all of us."

Halig surveys the room of knights and guards, all with angered expressions at his insult—Sir Leon at the forefront, ready to give this bounty hunter a hard punch to the jaw.

The man is forced to back down, holding out his hands in surrender, "Apologies. This cargo is worth more than any of you can fathom. I won't have anyone fucking this up for me."

"Well, you've done a grand job at that yourself," Calliope snaps.

She turns her attention back to the room of men, "Right, the first group will search the low town with Cal. Second group with me at the castle and we work out way to the middle," Leon looks over his shoulder at Calliope. "Ready?"

Nodding, she moves around Halig, bumping him roughly as if he's nothing more an annoying branch in her path. He still remains struck with unbelief at her behavior towards him.

Once she and Leon are about to part ways outside the armory, Calliope grabs his arm, "You know you don't have to stick up for me like that, right? I can handle guys like Halig."

The knight smirks, "I know. I just enjoyed seeing the look on his face."

"He's lucky he walked away without a scratch."

Leon leans a bit closer, "If he knew you're true identity, he really would be pissing in his porridge."

The assassin chuckles, and they go in opposite directions with their groups. She walks in the front, head looking from side to side as the people of Camelot lean to whisper to their closest companion, making way for the myriad of armed warriors. Calliope wonders if this girl she's tasked with finding really is as dangerous as Halig claims, or if the man is simply trying to protect his pride. Calliope also wonders what she'll do if she does manage to locate this druid. Should she discreetly get her out of the city? No one should be locked away and at the mercy of a cruel bounty hunter or forced on the execution stand under Uther's hard gaze.

Her thoughts are occupied as they work their way from the outskirts of the city back to the middle. Every house, market, and back alley is thoroughly examined, even checking every covered bin and tall pile of hay. They search until the sun reaches its peak in the sky and Leon's group stumbles upon her own, equally out of luck. Calliope stands near the blacksmith's tent, eyebrows knit together as she thinks of anywhere else they haven't checked, but perhaps this druid girl is more resourceful than they think—maybe she found a way to flee the city. That's the smart thing to do.

However, it simply cannot be a coincidence that she hasn't seen Merlin much at all today.

Calliope spots Morgana across the path, examining a bundle of new silks which have just arrived in the city. She glances over her shoulder as Leon enters into a conversation with another knight.

"Don't you have enough gowns by now?" she teases, earning a small smile from the King's ward.

Morgana glances up from the array of colorful fabric, "I am in need of a new gown for..." she trails off, looking away, but Calliope raises her eyebrows. "For the wedding."

"Ah, right, the wedding," the assassin lets her fingers trace a soft, crimson piece of cloth. She's never liked wearing red all that much. It reminds her too much of blood—of all the blood she's spilled throughout the years. Of the Red Dragon.

"That's nice."

Her hand shoots away from the material. Morgana gives her a strange look, "Red isn't really my color."

"Oh yes, I forgot, you like to stick with black, but have you ever thought that maybe color isn't such a bad thing to add to your wardrobe, Cal?"

Calliope sighs, "I will take it into consideration."

With a quick motion, Morgana laces her arm through Calliope's leading her away from the prying ears of the marketplaces.

"There has been talk."

"Talk?" Calliope questions. So many different possibilities flash through her mind. Rumors of her and Arthur? Has someone seen them? They've always been careful.

Morgana nods, "Arthur hasn't visited Victoria in days. People are saying he may call off the engagement."

"Uther would never allow that," Calliope says. "He's determined to see their marriage through. Besides, Arthur breaking his word could cause Camelot's relationship with Thera to suffer."

Calliope has already accepted that her relationship with Arthur is fleeting. There isn't much she can do to stop a wedding which has been planned between two best friends for years. A foundation of good trade and trust to strengthen the bond between lands.

"There is something else I'd like to discuss," Morgana pulls Calliope to a stop near the courtyard, but still out of hearing range of any people nearby. "You're one of the only people I can trust."

"Please don't tell me you killed someone and need to dispose of the body—not that I wouldn't help. It's not as hard as some might believe—"

"I haven't killed anyone, Cal," Morgana stops her. "It's...it's Lady Victoria. You know I have dreams that come true sometimes?" Calliope nods, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, I had one of her last week before Morgause came to Camelot."

A dream of Lady Victoria? From the look on her face, Calliope can tell it isn't good, "What happened in your dream?"

"It was strange. I saw Victoria in the woods. It was dark and the moon was full. She was meeting with some unfamiliar man. Then, you showed up and started yelling at them. When the dream changed I saw..." she inhales sharply and Calliope leans forward, eager to hear the rest of the dream.

"Saw what?"

Morgana meets her eyes. Her own are wide, almost frightened, "I saw you, on a throne made of dark rocks with a black crown on your head. There were stripes of blood running down your face, and Victoria..." she was reluctant to finish telling Calliope about her dream.

The blonde motions for her to continue. Morgana lets out a long breath—

"She was dead at your feet."

♛ ♛ ♛

Calliope's mind is still reeling the next day. With everything she's found out in the last few weeks, Morgana's dream haunts her in a chilling way. Someone like Calliope is more than capable of killing Lady Victoria, but even to think of carrying out such an act makes the assassin's stomach twist in tight knots. Not because of the idea of Victoria dying, but because of what her weird, ghost ancestor told her. That she's doomed to repeat a viscous cycle of evil, trapped—cursed to be a cold-blooded killer and nothing more. Calliope has never been one to rely on ancient deities or mythic prophecies of woven destiny. She's always believed people make their own choices and control their own futures, but this dream makes a sliver of doubt gnaw at her gut. Is there some nefarious force hovering over her? Could there be intangible powers holding her limbs through strings, dictating each fragile moment?

The unknowns drive her to the edge—make her brain feel fuzzy and jumbled, so much that she wants to claw it out. Part of her wishes she could go back to the oblivion of not knowing any of this, but now that's she's started down this road, she can't stop until she discovers the full truth. Even if it leads her somewhere she can't come back from. Calliope has faced worse odds. She's battled creatures made of hell itself, and pulled herself from the fiery chasm of rage and vengeance and never-ending bloodshed. But her foes have always been clear. Now, she doesn't know which way to turn, who to trust, or which parts of herself she can rely on.

She chews on her lips, eyebrows drawn together in a harsh line. Dagger in hand, she twiddles with her favorite weapon as her eyes scour over the words in the book Gaius told her to return, but she can't. Not when answers could be hidden within the faded lines and foreign letters. This ancient language might be impossible to translate, but there has to be a clue somewhere. The crescent symbol haunts her. It's tattooed on several pages, as if only put there yesterday. Some type of buzzing magic holds the ink together, keeping it fresh and daunting. Her fingers trace the identical symbol hanging from her necklace. If she could only figure out what it means, all of this could be solved. She has a feeling everything is connected—the symbol, her ancestor, the story of the fall of Sheolta, and everything that's happened to her since she was nine years old, encompassed by hot flames and destruction.

Death has always been an inch from her. She walks the fragile line between the living and the dying. Even when she was born, she was close to death, left alone in a forest crawling with hungry wolves. Everywhere she goes, death seems to follow—stalking her and anyone who gets too close to her. It's a living shadow. Her shadow.

Calliope closes the book, bringing a knee to her chest as she sits on Gaius's workbench. No matter how many hours she spends searching through this book, she never finds anything new. The assassin secures it in her satchel and throws the strap over her shoulder. Standing, she rubs her tiring eyes. She didn't get any sleep last night. How could she when every time she closes her lids, she goes back to that destroyed castle?

"Cal!" She nearly jumps out of her skin when the door flies open, revealing Gaius, panting for air as he looks at her. "I've just seen Halig dragging Merlin to the dungeons."

"I'm on it."

Her steps burst into a run as she hurries across the courtyard. Everyone moves out of her way as she makes a quick path to the dungeons. The closer she gets, the more she can hear yells echoing off the cold stone; Halig's angry voice, and Merlin's panicked responses. He's never been a good liar—not like Calliope. Lying comes to her as easy as breathing.

When she rounds the corner, she realizes she wasn't the only one alerted to Merlin's predicament. Prince Arthur arrives as fast as she does, and they make eye contact right before Arthur's head shoots to the left, where Halig has his fist raised, ready to bring it to the young sorcerer's gentle face.

The Prince steps forward, eyes pinched in anger, "Halig!" The bounty hunter freezes in place as Arthur and Calliope near him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"We caught the boy behaving suspiciously, Sire. He could be harboring the girl, and he's going to tell us where."

Calliope looks down to where two guards hold him against the chair. Merlin's eyes catch hers, and she raises a silent question. His evasive gaze is all she needs to know he is definitely involved. Great, another problem.

Arthur grabs Halig by the arm before he can inflict any further interrogation, "Leave him alone," he shoves the bounty hunter aside and pulls Merlin up from the chair. "Merlin is my servant. He has my absolute trust, and if you have a problem with him, you come to me, understand?"

"Sire," Halig bows his head in a reluctant manner, glancing over the boy one last time before he leaves. "Good luck, Merlin. Don't forget your dinner."

As Halig leaves, Calliope and Arthur glance to the floor of the cell, finding sausages scattered around, as well as a silver pitcher. Likely food for the girl he's harboring, but Calliope keeps her mouth shut and lets Merlin handle this.

"Are those my sausages?" Arthur asks. Merlin nods. "You took them?"

"To keep you in shape!" he bends down to grab the scattered breakfast.

Arthur raises his eyebrows, "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"No!" Merlin says, straightening his back. "Well, not yet."

"I am not fat!"

Merlin throws out his arms, "You see—it's working!"

He saunters away with a small grin. Arthur has a baffled look in his wide eyes, shaking his head at the words of his servant, "Maybe I should have let Halig bash his face in. Perhaps, he'd finally have some sense."

The assassin chuckles, "Not likely. Besides, if you let Halig touch him, I'd have to bash your face in, as well as the bounty hunter's."

The Prince turns, his eyes scanning her face, noticing the heavy bags, which never seem to leave these days, "I haven't seen much of you this week. Is everything okay?"

No, everything is going to shit, Arthur, and I might end up killing you after all, according to some some weird ghost lady.

"Yeah," Calliope says in a quick breath and a half-smile. "Just trouble sleeping, I guess, but that's not anything new for me." At least, when she's alone. When his touch is absent, not as a heavenly shield over her vivid nightmares of the past and everything that could be waiting in her future.

Their eyes meet, and she wants to reach for him. She wants to ask him to call the wedding off and run away with her, somewhere they can become new people with new stories. They can forget about every bad thing that's happened and start over, together. Instead, she looks to the ground, not able to hold his enticing blue gaze any longer. When she looks into it, all she can see is how his lips fit against her own, his hands trailing down her bare back, and his soft whispers against her ear. Forbidden things, secret things. That's all they can ever be anyway. 

"The wedding is getting closer," Calliope says, somehow, even though she'd rather grab his hand and lead him to her room where they can escape this reality and pretend to exist in some other realm, at least for a little while. "I think...I think it's best if we—"

"Don't," he stops her. His eyes suddenly wide, his hands grabbing her own. "Don't finish that sentence."  

Calliope moves away from his touch, shaking her head, "Arthur, we can't just keep pretending it isn't going to happen. We've been selfish. I've been selfish, and what we've been doing—you know it isn't right," Calliope knows he wants to deny her every word, but he remains silent, fighting a battle in his mind between his duty and her.

"I feel nothing for her," Arthur says, stepping closer. "It's not even comparable to how I feel when I'm with you." It's the words she's wanted to hear for so long, but why do they sting when they should make her feel joy? "You're the one I want, Calliope. Only you." His hand cups her cheek. She's so temped to lean into his touch. "There will never be anyone else my heart belongs to. It's yours, and it always will be."

My heart is yours too, it's what she wants to say, but can't. Not until she figures out the prophecy, and not until his obligation to Victoria has ended.

"Arthur, we can't keep going on like this—I can't keep going on like this knowing that it's all going to be ripped away. If you hurt Lady Victoria, the Duke of Thera will never forgive you or your father. You will endanger the wellbeing of your own people—Camelot relies on their support."

Arthur glances to the ground. He can't hold her gaze when she says something he wishes more than anything to be untrue, "I have to try to stop this marriage one more time. I think that if I explain everything to Victoria, she might listen. I don't think she feels much for me either, to be honest. She's just doing what her father wants her to do—what she thinks is best for her kingdom. I think the Duke of Thera wants a closer tie to Camelot, for selfish reasons too."

"Then you should express how you want to marry for love, not politics, and you hope she can do the same. If she truly is only here for you, she'll accept that, and if not, you will know she isn't any better than her disgusting father, and maybe your own will see they don't have good intentions."

Arthur raises his eyes again, and he reaches to behind his neck. He unties the dark thread of his necklace and motions for Calliope to turn around. She hesitates at first, but his gaze is pleading, so she inhales sharply and allows him to put the necklace on her. As his fingers graze her skin, she feels goosebumps forming on her skin. A familiar fire igniting in her veins as he ties it in place, the red gem covering the crescent symbol from her own necklace. 

"I want you to have this, as a reminder of what we've shared, and how much you'll always mean to me. No matter what happens, you'll always know where my heart truly belongs."

Her fingers graze the small gem, and she turns to face him, "Thank you, Arthur."

He leans down, his lips ghosting her own in an ethereal kiss that sends her heart into a frenzy of sparks. It's slow and tender, much different than most physical touches they share.

When he finally pulls away, he places his lips on her forehead for a small moment, his eyes closed as if he wants this moment to last forever. But then, he walks away and leaves her alone in the hallway of the dungeon, and she wonders if that would be their last intimate moment together. If his gift to her will simply be a relic for what could've been. A memory of everything that was just out of reach. The assassin's heart feels heavy in her chest, like it might cause her whole body to crumple to the floor.

Calliope tucks the gem under the top of her shirt. She knows that by morning, she'll hear the consequences of Arthur's decision to speak to Lady Victoria about ending their engagement.

Something in the air tells her darkness is looming. Around her, around this city—

And around the ever so innocent, Lady Victoria.

♛ ♛ ♛

so that's it for this episode. i almost skipped it altogether because there's not much to go on for an original character. most of what happens in this episode for a character who isn't Merlin can be summed up in a few paragraphs, so instead of having a part 2 to this episode, the next chapter will mainly focus on some original plot dealing with the lady victoria content!

thanks for reading and remember to vote and leave your thoughts in the comments! <3