CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
ROSE ( i. )

When Calliope feels herself spiraling, she tends to make herself as busy as possible.

Once she had recovered from her time in captivity, her mind became completely focused on the most important information she had gotten in years. Her mother. A possible lead to finding her after all this time. But even through the determination for answers, the assassin can't deny the anxiety that twists her stomach into a tight knot because there is still the possibility that this lead could be nothing more than another dead end.

The trip will take several days and will no doubt be dangerous. Calliope needs all her strength, physically and mentally. She wants to take this journey alone—traveling through Mercian territory will already be risky enough for one person—and she has no idea what she's walking into if she does find Drak. No one else needs to put their life at risk. This is the reason she spent so long hunting down the raiding party. It's a loose end she must tie up herself; the question she must answer.

Her absence from Camelot will not go unnoticed, but she cannot let anything hold her back.

Something had shifted inside her in Hengist's fortress. Ever since she first came to Camelot, she tried her best to keep a tight leash on the beast within her, cold and unrelenting and hungry for blood. The ringing of steel as she cut down tens and tens of men was exhilarating. She had also seen the look in the Prince's gaze as well. Through sheer awe for her ability to kill so effortlessly there was also a presence of something else...not fear, but caution. It was as if he forgot her past in these recent weeks as they grew closer.

He forgot that underneath soft smiles and warm touches Calliope reserves only for him, rests a trained killer. And Arthur would deny it. He would say he cares for her no matter what, that he knows she's working to change, but what if change isn't something in the cards for her? Another reason he can't come along: because if she finds Drak and he has done anything to hurt her mother, she will make him and anyone else in her path to him wish they had never been brought into this godforsaken world.

She makes her way to the stables in the dead of night. She's familiar with the guard rotations and the small windows of opportunity in which the path to her horse is clear for exactly two minutes. Counting the seconds in her head, Calliope darts across the courtyard, her pack strapped around her shoulders. Dressed in all black, she blends in with the veil of midnight and shadows. Two daggers are strapped to her belt, and her sword is slung around her back in its sheath. She also has three other small knives hidden in her boots and tunic and a sharp hairpin that could come in handy in a desperate situation.

Calliope tacks her horse before the guards return. She's about to place her foot in the stirrup when she hears a voice travel through the shadows.

"And where are you sneaking away to at this hour?"

Prince Arthur stands, leaning against the back entrance of the stables, the blue of his eyes illuminated by soft torchlight.

"It's none of your concern, Arthur. Just go back to the castle."

He takes a step towards her, "You're going after him, aren't you?"

There's no point in denying it. Calliope shrugs, "I've spent ten years looking for her, and for the first time, I have a lead. Of course I'm going."

"Alright, I'm coming as well—"

"No," Calliope cuts him off, shaking her head in sharp protest. "No, I can't let you do that. Drak is in Mercia, and I have no idea what I'm walking into."

Arthur nods as he grabs a saddle, "All the more reason for me to have your back."

Her hand shoots out to grab the saddle. Their eyes meet in the darkness, "Your father wouldn't appreciate me dragging you away from Camelot into danger."

"Since when have you ever cared about what my father thinks?"

It was a bad excuse. Calliope averts her gaze from him, "If we find Drak..." the assassin trails off, shutting her eyes for a moment. "I don't want you there for that."

"Calliope, I'm well aware of what happens to people who hurt those you care about."

"I saw the way you looked at me in Hengist's fortress," she said, her eyes still distant as the memories flashed. "Like I was a stranger to you."

Silence falls over him, and he bites the inside of his cheek. The Prince had been taken aback by the monstrous swing of her blade, her entire body painted in blood that was not her own. She looked like some goddess of wrath and death emerging from the pits of the underworld. And when he and Merlin had stumbled upon that man nailed to a table underneath her knives, his insides on the floor...it hit him. Everything that had been placed at the back of his mind since he fell for her. She was an assassin. She had once planned on killing him. That tattoo on her back wasn't just for show. He knew her well enough to put the pieces together.

Prince Arthur takes another step, wrapping his hand around her own, "No matter what—no matter how dark things get—I will always be there for you," Her eyebrows crease as she looks down at their intertwined hands. "I promise."

Calliope no longer protests to him coming along, but she does let her hand fall away from his, turning her back and speaking just loud enough for him to hear, "I don't think that's a promise you'll be able to keep."

♛ ♛ ♛

Merlin....Merlin...Merlin!

The young wizard drops the water basin in his hands as he stands by the well. He knows that voice all too well as it rises from under the castle straight to his mind. Merlin shakes his head. He has enough to deal with today already without visiting the dragon. Arthur and Calliope have mysteriously disappeared, only leaving a note that they are heading North to investigate reports of a dangerous magical creature. Merlin knows that is far from the truth, but the King seemed pleased enough with the lie.

His brain is itching to follow after them. Why didn't they invite him on their secret mission?

He's aware Calliope finally had a lead on the man who took her mother, and it's likely that she was trying to leave by herself, but the Prince convinced her to let him come along. Merlin curses under his breath. Now, he's stuck in Camelot to do chores all day long while Calliope and Arthur are probably making out in some forest.

Glancing at the castle as the dragon's voice surfaces again, Merlin huffs and begins walking. His feet lead him below the castle where the light of day fizzles out into an expanding darkness and a cold, inching feeling that he should turn around. He no longer trusted the dragon, not after everything that happened six months ago, but the inevitable truth is that Merlin needs him to keep Arthur alive. There are too many constant threats to the Prince's life; magical threats that swords and spears and even Calliope's blade are useless against. It's up to the young sorcerer alone to protect the Prince, and it is because of this that he stands before the scaly beast.

The dragon's yellow eyes scan over Merlin, not saying anything for the first few moments. Finally, Merlin throws out his hands, his voice echoing throughout the cavernous prison.

"Why have you called me here?"

"Because it is finally time for us to have an important conversation," the dragon answers.

Why could he never get straight to the point? He'd probably just speak in riddles, like always, "If this is about me setting you free—"

"It's about the assassin."

Merlin freezes, "You mean...Cal?"

The dragon bows his head in a nod, "Yes."

"What about her?"

"She is the greatest threat to the world you and Prince Arthur are destined to build."

This is another one of his tricks. Merlin laughs, shaking his head, "Do you know how many times she's helped me save Arthur? She put a blade through her own heart to stop the blood wraiths and other assassins from coming after us! I don't care about her past—she's a hero."

"This is not about her past. It is about her future."

"If she's such a threat, then why did you tell her how to stop the blood wraiths?"

"I did not think she'd survive."

Another blow. Merlin can't believe what he's hearing, "See? You don't know everything."

"I know there is an ancient prophecy sealed in magic more powerful than you or I," Merlin doesn't want to listen, but his curiosity wins as the dragon continues. "There are both dark and light threads intertwining, and as time goes on, the darkness grows stronger. At first, the images seemed to be referring to her task to kill the Prince, but then, she spared him. It was then that the truth was unveiled to me; after the dagger brought her soul back into the world of the living, the prophecy was finally sealed."

"What did you see?'

"Destiny," the dragon says. "Deathbane was no ordinary, magical dagger. She was meant to find it and be connected to its power. Everything that has happened to her has been set in place to lead her towards this one, unchangeable truth..."

Merlin is impatient. His heart is pounding in his ears. Can't he just get on with it? "What truth?!"

"The reason she did not stay dead on that alter."

Merlin gulps, and listens as the dragon tells him the reason—and it's quite possibly the worst thing he's ever heard.

♛ ♛ ♛

They didn't stop riding until the sun was drifting low the next day, close to the distant mountains, the border between the lands of Camelot and Mercia. Once they passed through the valley awaiting them, they would no longer be safe travelers.

Calliope convinced Arthur to wear a plain, blue tunic and riding pants with only his sword as any sign of his heritage, but it was in a normal sheath without any decorative patterns that would draw attention from greedy or suspicious eyes. They're heading for a tavern not too far away from the border, the Night Wagon. It's a common gathering place for mercenaries, thieves, and bandits. Calliope knows Drak won't be there, but Tillbrook is less than a day's ride from the tavern, and if he is still involved in criminal activity, someone there will know exactly where to find him. She'd get answers one way or another. Through coin, or blood.

The small tavern doesn't look like much from the outside. The panels of wood are rotting and a few windows are broken, making the drunken activity inside even louder from where Calliope and Arthur dismount and tie their horses near a water bin. The assassin pats her horse's neck, glancing over her shoulder at the chaos they are about to enter. She wonders if Arthur is truly prepared to be surrounded by people deeply embedded in the activities of the Underground. Fighting them is one thing; blending in is an entirely different ordeal. She can't be sure if Arthur will be able to do it. She has her weapons ready just in case.

When the two travelers slip in through the front door, no one gives them much notice. The tavern is packed with only one open table towards the back of the bar where several maids pass out glasses and glasses of ale. Many people inside are involved in gambling or too drunk to form coherent sentences. This is where everyone comes to brag of their exploits and spend all their earnings in one night. Calliope has been in the Night Wagon many times. She's been drunk in this place many times. But tonight, it is not a form of escapism she seeks.

Arthur follows the assassin as she weaves through the drunken crowd. They stop at the bar, and Calliope brings her hand down on the sleek wood, four gold coins underneath her palm.

One of the tavern maids stops, turning to her with a sly grin, "I thought someone finally killed you."

"They tried," Calliope smiles back wickedly. "And they all regretted it."

Arthur watches the exchange with curios eyes as the tavern maid sweeps the coins into her pocket, "So, what brings you back here, Cal? It's been what? A year?"

She passes Calliope a glass of ale, but she holds up her hand, "I wish it was a friendly visit, Ezlyn, but I'm looking for someone."

"Always straight to business," Ezlyn glances over the assassin, a glint in her eyes. "You and I, we used to have fun together." Calliope quirks her lips as she remembers the nights she waited for the tavern to close. Amusement covers her face as Arthur goes pale when he realizes what Ezlyn meant. "All those long nights, waiting for everyone to leave so we could—"

"Can we get back to the task at hand?" Arthur interrupts, causing Ezlyn to finally notice him, her emerald eyes scanning his face.

"Oh, who's this handsome fellow? Another unfortunate lover you're stringing along?"

"Something like that," Calliope answers, causing Arthur to roll his eyes at her. "But, he's right. Have you heard any whispers of a man named Drak? I had an informant tell me he's working out of Tillbrook."

"Drak..." Ezlyn tilts her eyes up as if she's searching the ceiling for memories. "There's a man—a big man—who comes in here every week. He sits right over there—" The raven-haired girl motions to a dimly lit table in the corner, "—and meets with different people. I've heard them talk about this man you're looking for as I serve them ale, and tomorrow will be his weekly visit."

Calliope nods, "Is he armed?"

"Always, he's practically a weaponry. Everyone in here seems afraid of him."

"He's probably one of Drak's men," Calliope looks to Arthur.

They would be getting a meeting with him alright. One way or another, "I can get you two a room in the inn next door," Ezlyn glances between them. "My mother won't charge you much."

"Money isn't an issue," Arthur reaches for his satchel, but Calliope puts her hand over his, shooting him a warning glance.

"Maybe don't announce that in here."

The last thing they need is for a brawl to break out as everyone in this tavern tries to steal from them. Calliope isn't in the mood to make a bloody scene. Her true target is far from this tavern.

The Prince gets the message as his hand falls away from his satchel. Ezlyn tilts her head towards the back door, "Sheena will remember you, Cal. She'll make sure you get a room to your liking."

"Thank you, Ez, " Their eyes meet as the old nickname rolls off Calliope's tongue, and suddenly, every reason she stayed in this town for so long flashes through her heart, but she knows their time together was never meant to be permanent. That didn't make reliving it sting any less.

Ezlyn nods, "A favor for an old friend," but she sets her gaze right on Arthur, the chipper spirit fading. "I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into. I sure didn't," Calliope inhales sharply as Ezlyn's eyes return to her own. "She's good at making you fall in love with her, and even better at disappearing."

Without another word, Ezlyn turns to an awaiting customer.

Calliope's heart sinks to her stomach, but she shakes the feeling away, and as Arthur tries to ask her a question—probably about Ezlyn—she starts walking to the back door, "Let's go."

The inn next door is three stories and freshly refurbished. No doubt from side jobs or back alley deals. Sheena was well known throughout the town of Finley for being a stubborn woman that you didn't cross. She owns the Night Wagon, any Underground activity often went straight through her first, but she likes to appear as having less money than she actually did. It kept away eager bandits and traveling thieves. All the decor is plain, but suitable. The rug leading to the front counter has dirty boot marks all over it, and there's an earthy musk, mixed with sweat and ale, that causes Calliope to turn up her nose.

When she first came to Finley, trailing a target, Calliope rented a room, only intending to stay three days. Three days turned into four and five, and suddenly, three months had gone by before she even realized it.

Sheena emerges from a room at the end of the hallway, smacking at a scurrying rat with a broom, "Out you nasty fuckers! Out!"

The rat looks absolutely terrified at the short and stout woman trying to squash it. The creature runs into a small hole leading out into the night.

"Hello Sheena."

The innkeeper stops, gripping her broom as she takes in the two travelers standing in the entry way, "I never thought you'd come here again."

"Neither did I," Calliope says, "We're in need of a room for the night. Ezlyn said you have something available."

Grumbling, Sheena walks over to her book and squints at the scribbled letters, "My daughter is too kind for her own good."

"I know."

The Prince steps around Calliope, placing a handful of gold coins onto the counter. Sheena doesn't hesitate to snatch them, but she does eye the blond man with suspicion.

"Room ten. Upstairs, second door on your left."

♛ ♛ ♛

The room is silent as Calliope unpacks her bag.

It's quaint with a tall dresser in the corner, and a window overlooking the empty streets. There's one, queen-sized bed in the center of the room with a small table on the left side. A cobalt blue rug sits between an old, dusty couch and a table with three of the legs longer than the fourth. On top of it, a vase of fresh lilacs gives more life to the room, and a relief to the odors around them.

Calliope excused herself from the room to go the one bathing room on this floor. It was thankfully unlocked, and she undressed and let herself relax amongst the freshly warmed water of the metal tub. Memories threatened to overtake her, but nothing would change the past. Nothing would fix the way she left things with Ezlyn. Like always, Calliope fled when things became too serious.

Sometimes, she feels the same fears gripping her when she's around Arthur. The deepness to his stare can be overwhelming. In truth, she never meant to have a romantic relationship with him, or anyone, ever again.

And when she returns to their room, her hair damp as she dries it out with a towel, she can see the many questions and confusion written all over the Prince's face as he sits above the covers, his back rested against the wooden headboard. His eyebrows are scrunched in deep thought.

"I assume you don't want to talk about what happened in the tavern."

No, she thinks to herself, but it's a story he's desperate to know, "It's not something I like to think about. When I left Finley, I put it all behind me for good."

"And Ezlyn?"

"Are you sure you want me to tell you?" Calliope quirks an eyebrow as she puts the towel down. "I saw you in the tavern. You were jealous."

Arthur shakes his head, but he can't deny it, "I didn't know you..."

"Slept with a woman?" Calliope laughs to herself, but Arthur doesn't seem like he's judging her, just intrigued to understand. "The first time I had a crush on a girl, I was seven. She was my neighbor, and we chased the chickens in the village together almost every day," Calliope smiles at the fond memories. "Then, a year later, I found myself blushing around one of the boys in my village. It's never been something I felt compelled to explain to people. It's just who I am. I get to know someone and whether or not I'm romantically interested in them depends on who they are as a person."

The Prince nods, "So, Ezlyn was one of those people?"

"Yeah," the assassin sits on the edge of the bed, looking out the window as if time was turning back. "I came here following a target, and after my job was done, I went into the Night Wagon. I sat near the bar and started talking to her and before I knew it, hours had gone by. She invited me to have dinner with her and Sheena, and..." Calliope sighs. "My feelings for her came fast. Being an assassin is a lonely life, and she made me feel like maybe I could do something else; be someone else."

"What happened?"

"What do you think?" Calliope asks, turning her head to look at him. "Sepharin didn't like the idea of me settling down. He found me and gave me another lead. I couldn't drag her into it. She knew I was an assassin, but she thought I was just like every other criminal who came into her tavern. She didn't know I was the Red Dragon, and I wasn't going to put her life in danger. If I stuck around, Sepharin would have found out I cared about her and used that against me." Calliope did not let her mind wander to the possibilities, what might have been if she never left Finley. "She's the first person I ever loved. All the others were just...distractions."

Arthur raises his eyebrows, "Others? How many people have you been with?"

"I should be asking you that question. Everyone knows royal men can have whoever they want whenever they want."

"Five," he says with a serious face. "They were all girls passing through, guests of my father. It was always for a short time, but I cared about all of them."

"Oh, well I definitely have indulged in meaningless sex multiple times," Calliope snickers at how he shifts uncomfortably at the subject. "I will never understand why you royals are such prudes, or the ridiculously barbaric and sexist rule that girls from high born families have to remain a virgin until marriage, but boys can galivant around with however many women they choose."

Calliope hasn't slept with Arthur, although she has definitely wanted to. She's never been someone to deny herself pleasures, but she knows that is a line they cannot uncross. And, he's engaged to another.

Sure, he stayed in her bed once, kissing her longingly, his hands wandering, but she stopped him before things could escalate. They talked for the rest of the night, and he left her with a sweet, parting kiss.

They still haven't discussed what this is between them. She's afraid to. She hasn't let someone in since Ezlyn, and that ended badly. She's never said the words, I love you, not even to Ez. She's not sure she even knows how to love someone in that way, or if she's capable of it.

Calliope moves to sit beside him, turning her head to look into his intense, ocean blues, "Promise me something."

"Anything."

"When you become King, you'll do away with that law."

Arthur smiles, "I will get rid of the law that is, in your words, barbaric and sexist, and ensure it stays out of Camelot's court as long as I live. I swear it."

"Good," Calliope answers.

Under the dim lighting of their room, Calliope lets her eyes wander down to his lips. The air is suddenly hot, and heat courses through her as she remembers all to well how they feel against her own, or trailing down her neck—

She turns her head before their lips can meet. It would be so easy to give into all her desires, especially so far away from Camelot, but she restrains herself. He's promised to another.

Eventually, he will have to marry Lady Victoria. It could be next week, next month, or next year, but Calliope knows the Prince is not hers to love, and he never will be.

"Cal, if you want me to sleep somewhere else—"

"Don't," she says looking away from him. "Just stay."

She hears him suck in a breath as she climbs under the covers and brings the blanket up to her neck, clutching the material with her back to the Prince. Moments later, he follows suit, but she can feel his eyes on the back of her head, and she sighs, turning over to face him.

"What is it?" Calliope asks.

"I know I shouldn't, but I just can't..." he trails off with a frustrated breath. "I can't stop thinking about how much I don't want to marry Victoria. I don't even want to entertain the idea because I'd rather spend my time with you." the words hang in the air, and he almost looks like he regrets saying anything, but Calliope raises her eyebrows. "You just get me, Cal, like no one else ever has."

It's the same for her, but she's not sure how to voice it, "Arthur, you know that no matter what happens, you'll always be important to me. I'm not going anywhere. If I did, who would kick your ass at training every day?"

He laughs lightly, adjusting his head on the pillow, and a tad closer to hers, "I just need you to answer one question for me," her heartbeat increases, partly from his proximity and partly because she's not sure what he's about to ask. "What are we doing, Calliope? What...what is this to you?" It's foolish, but she doesn't want to have to think about their connection too much because she knows where it all ends. She knows and she hates it and she wants to get up and run just imagining it. "If all I am is just a distraction, I can give you that. If you want this to mean nothing, then it won't."

It can't mean nothing, and she doesn't know how to tell him that whatever she feels for him is far deeper for her to even understand or put into words.

Before she can answer, he continues, "We've been through too much together for me not to care about you, and I guess I just don't want to do anything to ruin this," his fingers brush her cheek, and she controls herself from leaning into his touch. "So just tell me what you want from me, Cal."

"What if I don't have the answer?" she says, so quietly so doesn't even know if he hears. "Ez was right. I ran when she got too close. I hurt people so they can't hurt me," Calliope dares a look into his eyes, but finds his gaze to be soft and warm. "I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have."

Arthur's face is inches from her own now, and she can't control her heartbeat or the sparks thrumming through her every vein. He places his hand on her jaw, and guides her lips to his in a sweet, longing kiss.

It ends just as it begins, and he pulls away to look into her eyes, "Maybe this is the stupidest thing I've ever said, but I'd rather be hurt by you than give myself to anyone else."

Calliope is left speechless. Her eyebrows furrow as she thinks of what to say back, but she can't find the right words to string together. She's never been good with words anyway, so she just moves her head to rest against his chest as his arms envelop her.

Part of her wants to dive in head first.

Part of her knows that if she does, they'll both drown.

♛ ♛ ♛

peep ezlyn

a character i may expand on someday if i ever finish this book and it's sequel to eventually write a prequel about cal before camelot.

anyways, i hope everyone is enjoying this chapter. the next will be the conclusion to finding cal's mother, and then we'll get back to the canon episodes!