CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
THE WITCHFINDER ( i. )

Violins and mixing voices echo through the hall. Even outside—in front of the closed door which leads to an ornate and meticulously planned birthday celebration—there are twisting garlands decorated with tulips and orchids. The King spared no expense for his best friend's daughter, his future daughter-in-law, if his plan comes to fruition. If this is what a simple birthday party looks like, Calliope can't even imagine the wedding.

For an odd reason, her stomach is tight with nerves. Calliope hasn't worn a dress since her first few days in Camelot. She's grown accustomed to her routine with the knights and patrolling and guard duty, but this feels like an entirely new realm. Like a maze set out before her and every turn is a dead end. It just feels wrong to be a guest at Lady Victoria's party because of everything that has happened between her and Arthur. Calliope crossed a line there is no coming back from, and she doesn't regret it exactly—she just can't see a way through. This situation between the three of them can only end one way. And none of them will get out unscathed.

A few years ago—even maybe one year ago, Calliope wouldn't have cared about Victoria at all. The assassin has always been the type of person to go after what she wants and damn the consequences, but things have changed. Now, when she looks at Victoria, she gets this nauseous feeling in her gut. Guilt.

Calliope wipes her sweaty palms on the material of her midnight-colored gown. The way the light catches on the skirt makes it look as if the dress is the night sky itself, adorned with sparkling stars. The bodice is thin, hugging her chest with loose straps around her shoulders, and a single slit near her right leg allows for easier movement and some relief from this summer weather.

The theme of the party is brighter colors, but Calliope feels most comfortable in black. It reminds her of her armor—of her favorite dagger, which by the way, is strapped to the inside of her thigh. Of course, she has to be prepared for anything.

Even though this dress is far from her usual attire, it wraps a sense of confidence around her. A safety that's familiar and warm. She's entering the belly of the beast, a pit of royals and judging eyes, especially from Victoria's father who has come to the castle for his daughter's birthday, but Calliope can find relief in this one unchanging color. It gives her the needed nudge to place her hand on the door and pull it open.

There's a sea of pastels, spinning skirts and extended arms of gentlemen to ask their fancied Lady to dance across the polished floors. A reflective chandelier with crystals like raindrops hangs above the gala. Moonlight trickles in from the long, open windows, speckling the floor with changing shadows, and shining gold sparkles from the head table, where every piece of silverware is probably more expensive than Calliope's dress. An array of fruits and decadent desserts lines a side table, people grazing and gossiping amongst the steady rhythm of classic instruments. For a small moment, Calliope just takes it all in. How the hall looks bigger than normal, but smaller all the same due to the sheer number of people at this event.

While the assassin is calculating each person in front of her, she sees that everyone else is staring. The last time she was in a crowded hall flashes through her mind. All the blood. The swing of steel. Her mother dead. Calliope's fingernails sink into her palm, and she inhales a sharp breath, just in time to notice that most of the people in the room have shifted their eyes to her.

To them, she looks like an extension of nightfall. Her icy hair as the pale moon and her dress as the starry blackness, but something else lurks too. Like the edge of a blade inches from an unassuming back. People from other kingdoms in attendance whisper to themselves, and she catches their words as she passes. Which princess is this? Whose daughter is that? Is she spoken for? Calliope keeps her eyes forward as the sea of dancing partners falls away for her to walk through. Her blue gaze locks onto her target.

Lady Victoria's jaw is agape. Around her—her friends from home, Calliope assumes—are staring at this blonde mystery. They are a rainbow of bright colors. Victoria in a light, beautiful blue, and two girls beside her in yellow and pink. Then, Calliope notices a tall man around Uther's age standing by the King with a goblet of wine. His eyes are on her too.

And then there's Arthur, who stands next to Leon towards the dessert table and looks as if someone has sucker punched him in the gut. His eyes are wide, his cheeks a light shade of red. Calliope can't control the subtle smirk that lines her lips, and the quirk of her eyebrows. She suddenly feels much more in control of the situation.

"Calliope," Victoria says, addressing the new arrival. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up, although a dramatic entrance isn't something out of character for you, I suppose."

Calliope opens her mouth, but another voice rises, "Who is this again?" The girl in the pink asks, raising her chin.

"I'm—"

"There's no way she's that guard you've told us about. She's far too pretty."

The assassin clenches her jaw, "Yes, that's me."

"Strange," The girl in the yellow turns to Victoria, and the situation only worsens when Uther and the other man, Victoria's father come over.

Calliope looks to the ceiling for patience. And for the strength to not punch anybody in the face, or let any harsh words loose. She looks for Arthur, who needs to come to her rescue and get her away from all these people, but he's several drinks deep and laughing with the knights. Someone just kill me now.

"Uther, where have you been keeping this little beauty locked up?" Victoria's father's voice makes Calliope cringe, and suddenly gives her the urge to reach for her hidden dagger.

The King seems displeased by this comment, "She's been in Camelot a little over a year. Calliope is like a daughter to our physician, Gaius, and I've allowed her a guard position in the castle. She is very knowledgeable of the strategies of combat." Calliope raises her eyebrows at this high praise from the King, "But, she does struggle to adhere to the rules." And there it is. Uther gives her a pointed look, no doubt about the dress and the distress it caused his son moments ago.

"She and Arthur are close," Calliope snaps her head to Victoria, who has a smug smile on her face, "close friends, of course. Friendship is so important, isn't it, Cal?"

Calliope grits her teeth, "Yes, it is. Very important."

Victoria steps forward linking her arm with the assassin's, "Excuse me, my Lords, I think I want to show my friend here the beautiful cake Hilda made."

As she is led away from the head table and through the maze of dancers, Calliope feels Victoria lean closer to her, "Just wanting to check in and make sure you're holding up your promise," she pulls Calliope to a stop just in front of the dessert table. "I'd hate to have to ruin my own birthday party with the rumors of a traitorous affair." Calliope sighs, contemplating what to say, and the Lady places her hands on her hips. "Arthur is pulling away from me even more than before. I can see that he wants to end the engagement. He's terrible at hiding his feelings."

"I know," Calliope says through a long breath.

The Lady chews on her lip, her eyes drifting behind the blonde, "He's staring at you," Calliope turns her head over her shoulder, but the Prince has looked away. "He's always staring at you."

"Victoria—"

"I'm not a fucking idiot. So can you look me in the eyes and tell me everything is completely over with you and Arthur?"

Calliope meets her cold stare. The Lady is searching her gaze for any ounce of truth, and all Calliope can do is open her mouth to say yes, but no words come out. Her throat is tight, and she can't answer.

With a frustrated breath, Victoria shakes her head, and storms back to the head table, leaving Calliope standing alone. The assassin runs a hand through her hair, and she knows the situation is about to escalate when Victoria claims the attention of the entire room. The music halts, all heads turn.

"I have a special birthday request!" This won't be good. Victoria turns her head, looking right at Calliope. "Everyone, my good friend Calliope is an amazing dancer, and who better to show off her skills with than Prince Arthur, a true gentlemen of Camelot."

Fuck.

The Lady knows exactly what she's doing. When Calliope and Arthur are forced to dance together, it will be impossible to hide their natural chemistry—how comfortable they are being close, and the natural fit of their bodies. Not only will Uther grow more suspicious and determined to push the marriage, but even more gossip will filter through corridors. The idea of Calliope and Arthur together won't seem so unlikely. In fact, it will seem true.

As the music picks up once again, Calliope's eyes drift to Arthur as he approaches her. Their gazes lock, her heart skips a beat, and then, he's holding out his hand.

"Come on, everyone! Give them some encouragement!"

When clapping and cheering ensues—and an unnecessary whistle from Leon, along with grins from some other knights—Calliope can't deny Victoria's request.

Her small hand lands in Arthur's, warmth exploding in her chest as their eyes meet again.

"I guess they want a show," he says to her under his breath, leading her to the center of the room.

Every pair of eyes are focused on them, as if some trance-like state has guided each person in the room to witness this dance. Calliope feels unsure of herself. Her shoulders are stiff as she imagines the look on Uther's face, or what this dance might bring about in the future, but when she feels Arthur's hand on her waist, the tension recoils. The music picks up again, a smooth melody easy to fall into. Calliope places a hand on Arthur's shoulder while the other gently grasps his outstretched palm. She goes through the motions in her head first, wondering the safest distance or appropriate eye contact that may save them from following whispers and resounding rumors off castle corridors.

As soon as their feet begin moving in step to the music and Calliope's eyes lock with the Prince's, the calculations in her head don't add up, and they just fade and fizzle away. She inhales a sharp breath as he spins her, leading her along with him through the cords. He is a breath away, his steps sure and confident, and his grip is warm as she feels her body respond to his in a way that feels all too natural. The prying eyes and subtle whispers don't matter. King Uther doesn't matter. Suddenly, between plucked strings of soft instruments, it is only her and him, in their own world, unbothered by drifting chaos.

When the music speeds up, Calliope steps away, leaning on her heels as one of her wrists comes up, the back of it resting against the Prince's. They circle each other, locked eyes never wavering. It feels as if they have practiced this dance one thousand times before—like they are in another one of their sparring matches. The clash of steel. The melody of harps. Sweat dripping from their brows. Her skirt flowing from her waist. It's all one in the same. A response to familiarity and challenge and excitement.

The pair turns, their backs to one another, and Calliope raises her arms. There are jolts of sparks in between the few inches separating their shoulders.

When they face each other again, Arthur's eyebrows are quirked, his eyes glinting. Calliope feels a smug grin tugging at her lips, and then as the music quells, they both inhale a breath through the beat of silence until the melodies jump back together. Their bodies meet again, moving in sync with perfect fluidity, and they dance across the open floor. Everyone watching can't help but stare at the mesmerizing sight with awe, and they can't control the dangerous thoughts lurking in the back of their minds—how it seems like they should belong together, as if some force from above, magic weaving through the earth underneath, has created one for the other.

Darkness and light intertwining. The sun and the moon circling. For you cannot have one without the other.

And just before the song can come to an end, slow clapping from the head table brings the dance to a brisk halt, snapping everyone back to this current moment—this current reality in which the sun seeks the moon, but rises each day to find it even further away.

Calliope just stares at Arthur for a moment, before smoothing down her dress, and clearing her throat. The rest of the room follows suit with their clapping, and when Calliope turns to look at the head table, King Uther's eyes are razor sharp.

He gently holds out his glass to her, so subtle only she could notice, and he takes a final gulp of wine.

The King adjusts his crown, "And one, final announcement to conclude this happy evening," Calliope holds her breath, her fists clenching. "I have decided that the royal wedding shall take place at summer's end, right here in the palace!"

The rest of the clapping drowns out from Calliope's ears. The color drains from Arthur's face.

Lady Victoria smirks, wielding her chosen weapons with just as much precision as a lethal assassin.

♛ ♛ ♛

There are at least six headless practice dummies scattered throughout the training field the next day. Many of them are missing all of their limbs, and the carnage is a mess of wood and splinters. Calliope's blade is still singing with rage, and all of the knights, many involved in their own steps and spars, are just grateful she wasn't in the mood to fight any of them. Her demeanor is cold and stewing with anger, and the slice of her steel weapon had been unrelenting and...scary.

The assassin sits on a barrel, sharpening her blade after inflicting terrifying damage. Sir Leon is the only one that can go within ten feet of her without getting an angered glare or fiery words shot at him. He approaches her slowly, as if he's across from a snarling mountain lion.

Leon sits down on a barrel beside her, "Cal," he says in a careful tone. She doesn't acknowledge him. The only sound is sharpening steel, "you're scaring people."

"Then, it's a normal day in Camelot, Leon," Calliope answers, bluntly. "Honestly, I don't even understand why you're complaining. Not that long ago, those would be real, headless people."  She finally notices all of the townspeople passing by the field, staring with wide, alarmed eyes at all of the limbless dummies. "Anyway, there are a few individuals on my bad side right now, and I'm trying to stay as far away from them as possible."

"Is Arthur one of those people?"

Calliope shakes her head, looking away from the knight's gaze, "No, no. I just don't know where we even go from here. I mean, he's getting married in two months, for fuck's sake."

"Can't he just tell the King that he doesn't want to get married?"

The assassin scoffs, "Yeah, because telling Uther no always goes so well for everyone. Besides, he's watching both of us right now. He's trying to spy on me, but all of the people he orders to be be spies are shit at their job," she looks across the field to a stable boy who pretends to sweep as he watches her. Calliope gives him the middle finger. The boy's face goes pale, he drops the broom, and he runs away.

Leon shakes his head as the blonde laughs.

"Cal, Leon!" They both turn their heads. Another knight comes into view, motioning to the castle. "The King requires our presence."

"Great," Calliope mumbles as she pushes herself to her feet, wondering what announcement the King wants to make now.

When she enters the Throne Room behind Leon, she doesn't expect it to be so crowded. It's only been two weeks since a troll infiltrated this palace, and from the looks on a few faces she passes, Calliope can gather that they have another serious situation already. What will it be this time? Goblins? Giants? Another cursed tomb underneath the city? At this point, Calliope just accepts the chaos as normal.

The King stands in front of his throne. Behind him, Arthur and Morgana stare at the gathered, murmuring crowd. Calliope takes her place beside Gaius and Merlin, awaiting this announcement which interrupted her morning and destruction of every practice dummy in sight.

A woman from the low town stands before the King, her head bowed in respect.

Uther clears his throat, and all whispering ceases, "It was sorcery you saw? You're certain of it?"

"Yes, Sire."

"And you swear this before your King?"

The woman nods, "I swear it."

"Perhaps your eyes deceived you—a trick of the light," the Prince suggests.

"The smoke was alive, I tell you," she insists. "I feared for my life." Whether or not the woman saw what she claims, one thing is for certain. Whatever this thing was, it has completely terrified her.

"I thank you for bringing this to my attention. Your loyalty will not go unrewarded."

"Thank you, Sire."

As two guards lead the woman out of the room, the King releases a frustrated breath, his brows knit together, "It cannot continue."

Like a true, loyal son, Arthur looks to his father, "I will hunt down those responsible, Father. I promise they will not escape unpunished."

"No. Stronger methods are called for," the King glances around the room. "Send for the Witchfinder."

A string of gasps echoes through everyone still present, but no one looks as shocked and nervous as Merlin and Morgana. The Witchfinder is known all around the Five Kingdoms, inflicting cruelty that even surprises Calliope.

She's had her own troubles with him. For several years, he was determined to be the one to find the Red Dragon and bring the assassin to justice, but he was always several steps away.

He examined each body she left behind in her haze of vengeance, and still to this day, tries to uncover the identity of the Red Dragon.

But now, he's just chasing after a ghost.

"Sire, is it really necessary to resort to such measures?" Gaius asks, always the steady voice of reason the King loves to ignore.

"The Witchfinder is a trusted ally, Gaius. His help will be invaluable."

Gaius tries to hide the protest on his face, "Of course."

The assassin follows Merlin and Gaius out of the hall, but she is deep in thought as they weave through the corridors. The Witchfinder is an expert at forcing confessions. His torture methods are long and brutal. If he comes to Camelot and suspects anything from Merlin or Morgana, he won't stop until every secret has been unearthed, no matter the cost.

When they step into the physician's chambers, Calliope can see a lecture brewing on Gaius's face, and it's all directed at Merlin. She's grateful to be able to skip out on a scolding for once, so she sits herself down at the bench to enjoy the show.

"How many times, Merlin?" Gaius exclaims. "How many times must I drive it into that thick skull of yours that your magic is a secret to be guarded with your life? What were you thinking?"

"I..."Merlin trails off. "I wasn't thinking."

Calliope scoffs, "Seems to a common theme in your life, wizard boy."

"You're not helping, Cal."

Gaius sighs, "Well, think, boy! Think!"

"It was just a bit of fun."

"It was magic, and it was seen."

The sorcerer nods, "You're right. I'm sorry."

Gaius walks around the table, "You must hide the book—anything that can connect you to sorcery in any way."

"What, now?"

"Yes, now, Merlin!" The physician exclaims. "The man that Uther has sent for, I know him."

Calliope looks over at Merlin, "I've had a few run-ins with him myself."

"The Witchfinder?"

Gaius nods, "Some know him by that name. I know him as Aredian. He is a force to be reckoned with."

"But, I'm not a witch. Look—no dress or anything," Merlin jokes, but Gaius is not laughing. His face is strictly serious. "I'll get the book."

As Merlin hurries into his room, Gaius turns around, his focus honing in on Calliope. She raises her eyebrows, "What?"

He crosses the room to sit in front of her, "Is there anything in Camelot that can connect you to the Red Dragon?"

"No," Calliope answers, placing her hands on the table. "Besides, the whole world thinks I'm dead."

"Not Aredian," Gaius points out. "He's always been obsessed with catching you because he thinks the Red Dragon has magic. To him, it's the only explanation for all the mysteries."

Calliope scoffs, "I tracked people, I killed them, I disappeared. There is no mystery."

"Maybe not, but there's a trail of blood around you, Cal, and even though it's widespread and impossible to follow, it is there."

She leans forward, "And if Aredian gets too close, his blood will flow too."

And that night, when the Witchfinder arrives, Calliope watches him from her window above the courtyard. If he's so desperate to follow her deadly trail, she'll finally quench his curiosity—through the edge of her freshly sharpened blade.

♛ ♛ ♛

There is nervous energy resonating throughout the corridors the next morning. Everyone moves cautiously, looking over their shoulders as if the Witchfinder will be waiting to drag them into his next interrogation. Even Calliope feels on edge as she walks to morning training. She can't help but wonder if Aredian will come prying into her life, but her many of her secrets are buried with the dead. The safest place to keep them.

Calliope gasps when she feels someone grab her arm and pull her behind a pillar. She's ready to unsheathe her sword, until she finds herself staring into the panicked gaze of Lady Morgana.

The assassin lets out a heavy breath,

"What the hell?"

"I'm sorry. I just need to talk to you."

Calliope crosses her arms over her chest, "What's going on?"

"Aredian just finished speaking with Merlin, and I just can't stop worrying. You and him are the only ones in Camelot that know about..." she trails off, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one is coming. "That know about me."

"Merlin won't say anything, and Aredian won't get a word out of me. That I can promise you."

Morgana nods, a small smile on her lips, "I know I can trust you, Cal. You've always had my back when I needed you."

The assassin takes a step closer, her voice lowering, "I will always protect the people I care about. Always, no matter what."

"But what if he finds out—"

"Morgana," Calliope interrupts. "If he finds out, he'll be dead. Do you understand?"

Realization strikes through her eyes, "I-I think so."

"And are you okay with that?"

Her jaw clenches, her gaze sharp and darkening, "Yes."

"Good," Calliope says through a small breath. "Now, just try to stay calm and act normal, and if Aredian gives you any trouble, you come straight to me, okay?"

Lady Morgana nods with a sense of relief, and Calliope steps out from behind the pillar—just in time to come face-to-face with no other than the Devil himself.

Aredian is a tall, cold man with snake-like eyes that scan over Calliope like a wolf hunting its prey, but he is not faced with a doe.

They are both clad in black, two predators sizing each other up. Calliope's hand twitches near her sheathed sword.

"You must be Calliope," he says, walking towards her.

"I am, and I'm also late, so—"

"Not so fast," he steps in her path. "You're just the person I've been looking for."

"Am I?"

He nods, "King Uther speaks highly of your skills as warrior. He suggested that we work together to uncover the evil plaguing this city."

She shifts her weight, restraining the urge to punch him in his throat, "While that is a lovely and tempting suggestion, I am far too busy with the knights for such a task."

"Then, you won't mind at least answering a few questions for me," he says, getting a little too close for comfort. Calliope curls her lip. "Unless...you have something to hide."

"Of course not," she extends her arm. "Lead the way."

Aredian motions for Calliope to follow him, and as they walk down the hall, she thinks a quick and easy disposal if it comes to that. She has a small knife on her belt, perfect for a quick, quiet, and clean kill. Getting rid of the body will be more tricky, but Calliope knows she can do it.

While she is silently plotting his murder, Aredian opens to the door to his quarters.

She flashes an all too calm smile that sets him on edge.

And then, she steps into the viper's nest.

♛ ♛ ♛

so, let me tell you guys that the events coming up with this episode and the next are extremely important for the last few chapters of this story. every chapter after this will be longer because not only am i writing the storyline of each episode, but i'm adding in more original scenes, and i'm trying to keep this to the original plan of 60-65 chapters lol. we are climbing the hill to the peak of this story, and i'm so excited!!!

i would love to hear your theories about how things will unfold between cal, victoria and arthur, as well as what you think cal's true background is/why the dragon warns merlin about her. i honestly don't think you guys will see the ending of this story coming. i'm so excited i could almost just tell you everything, but i have to keep these secrets just a little longer.

also any headcanons you have for the rest of the season! your comments keep me inspired to continue this, and i really love your feedback/opinions!

thanks for reading, and remember to vote and leave your thoughts in the comments :)