CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THE ONCE AND FUTURE QUEEN ( i. )
i know you've all been waiting for this episode hehe

It takes Calliope an entire week to be able to even speak to Arthur again, and not because she's angry with him. Every time she sees him, she is only reminded that now, he is promised to another, and the small glimmer of hope within her that they could...be something, is crushed. They were just starting to mend their relationship for good, and then, Uther delivered the killing blow.

Having to check on Lady Victoria daily doesn't help. Calliope has to restrain herself from slitting her throat every time she speaks. The brunette's favorite hobby seems to be bringing up the fact that she's Arthur's betrothed, even having the audacity to ask for Calliope's opinion on wedding plans.

The assassin knows Arthur will put this off for as long as humanly possible, but one day, the time will come, and Calliope will just have to learn to live with it, which will be an extremely hard task.

The other day, Calliope was watching over some of the new potential knight's sparring while Arthur took Victoria for a late afternoon ride, per the request of his father. Watching them return, smiling at each other and laughing caused Calliope to accidentally stab one of the poor boy's arm with her sword in a flash of anger. She quickly apologized and stalked off, taking out her anger on a nearby tree that now has so many slash marks that it may topple over in the next strong thunderstorm.

It's obvious, but Calliope is not taking the engagement well.

As she stands beside Merlin a few days later, watching Arthur and some other knights prepare for the upcoming jousting tournament, she cannot peel her hateful gaze away from Lady Victoria, who sits with Morgana in the stands to watch their practice. It seems Uther is not only forcing Arthur to spend time with the dreadful Lady.

"Cal."

"What?"

"You um..." Merlin notices the path of her gaze. "You have that murderous look in your eyes, and it's scaring me."

While the prince and his opponent mount their horses, Calliope brings her eyes away from Victoria, "Don't worry, wizard boy. You're not the one I want to murder today."

"Lady Victoria," even hearing her name makes her skin crawl with anger. "News of their engagement has spread throughout the whole kingdom, but Arthur isn't happy about it."

Calliope watches as Arthur and his opponent begin riding towards each other, lances pointed to try and find their target. Arthur's lance drills into the knight's chest, sending pieces of wood flying. The knight falls off his horse, and the prince rides up to Calliope and Merlin with Lady Victoria's clapping echoing through the arena.

He pulls up the metal flap on his helmet that shields his face as merlin gestures to the knight, who struggles to get up, "That has got to hurt."

"That's the point, Merlin. It's not a pillow fight," Arthur answers as he shoots a quick glance to the blonde. She doesn't meet his gaze, and she hears him sigh. "Fetch me another lance, will you?"

When the prince has another lance in his hands, he faces the next knight in the training session: Sir Leon. Calliope grins as he rides up on his black horse, clapping for him. Maybe watching Arthur get knocked on his ass will cheer her up a bit.

Their horses begin galloping towards each other. Calliope holds in a breath as they charge closer and closer to colliding. Then, a harsh ray of sun reflects off Leon's lance, causing Arthur to have to look away, disoriented. But, instead of taking the opportunity to win the joust, Sir Leon raises his lance and rides right passed Arthur.

Damn it, Calliope throws up her hands in frustration. So much for getting cheered up.

Leon rides up to them, dismounting his horse and handing his lance to Merlin as Calliope punches his arm, but before she can express her own disappointment, Arthur storms up to the knight.

"Why did you pull out? You could have unhorsed me."

"I didn't want to injure you, Sire," Leon answers.

With a frustrated face, he points to the arena, "You had the advantage. You can't afford to hesitate."

"Yes, Sire, I wouldn't have if I were facing a different opponent," he explains. "You are the future King, my Lord."

Arthur's eyes widen slightly. He takes a few steps forward, "You jousted against me in the tournament last year. Are you saying you let me win?"

"No, my Lord," Leon shakes his head, but he's a terrible liar.

In disbelief, he looks from Leon to the other knights that have been practicing with him, "It doesn't matter who I am. I do not expect any special treatment from you—" he points to Leon, "—from any of you! Is that understood?" Turning away from them, he says one last thing, looking to Calliope. "Perhaps we should teach Cal how to joust. She seems to be the only person here not afraid to hurt me."

She shrugs, leaning to Leon, "He's not wrong."

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Calliope understands how Arthur wants to prove himself and be able to win fair and square, but his plan is absurd.

Over dinner, he told his father he was leaving to embark on a quest to kill a magical beast near the northern boarders, so he would have to miss the joust this year. It would have been fine, except that Calliope was roped into the plan. Uther refused to let him go unless he brought her with him to watch his back, so now, she also has to disappear from Camelot for four days.

Unhappily, she is standing in Gwen's house, leaning against the wall of the quaint room that acts as bedroom and kitchen and spinning her dagger around in her hands. This is where they will be staying while Arthur competes under a false name, and Gwen will take up residence in Calliope's old room in Gaius's chambers.

Everyone must believe Arthur has left Camelot, and since Calliope tagging along with him was announced, she has no choice but to room with him in this small house.

Merlin and Gwen stand by the door as Arthur walks inside, covered by a long, blue cloak. He takes a minute to examine the simple house before turning to Gwen, "My Lord," she says with a bow.

"Guinevere, it's good of you to let Cal and I stay in your home."

She nods politely, "I'm happy to help." Arthur manages a smile as he sets down his bag, and Merlin mutters something to Gwen. "Oh, let me prepare some food for you."

"Gwen, that's not really necessary—"

The servant stops Calliope from saying anything else, "I insist."

As Gwen goes to her stove to start on dinner, Calliope pushes herself off the wall and walks up to Arthur with Merlin beside her, "You can't really expect me to stay here," the prince says, eying the dusty table and small, single bed in the corner.

"We need to keep you both out of sight. Gwen won't tell anyone."

"No one would believe it," Arthur states.

Calliope nods, scoffing, "Yeah, trust me. I definitely don't want to be forced to stay with you either."

Merlin tries to cut through the tension between the two of them as he coughs awkwardly, "Are you sure you'll be able to cope without your big bed and your soft pillows?"

"This will be fine," Arthur says, reluctantly under his breath as he goes to the closet to take off his cloak. "How are the preparations coming? Have you found someone to play our knight for the tournament?"

Merlin nods, "Absolutely. He's a farmer from one of the outlying villages, and no one will recognize him."

"But does he look the part?

He does, in fact, not look the part. Later, after Gwen heads to the physician's chambers for the night, the farmer Merlin picked is standing in front of the three of them. His clothes are dirty and he has strands of hay in his unwashed, brown hair.

Arthur crosses his arms over his chest as Calliope leans against the table, holding in a giant laugh, "Great."

Over the next hour, Merlin gets a large bowl out to wash the man's hair and to get all the dirt and grime off his chest. Then, Calliope grabs the clothes picked out for him and holds the shirt in front of him, raising her eyebrows in question. Arthur rubs his temple in frustration, thinking that there's no way this plan could actually work, especially when the farmer has all the chainmail on and can barely hold himself up from the weight of it.

Merlin and Calliope steady him, and then, moments later, he is standing in his full armor with a shield adorned with a two-headed phoenix. Clean shaven and rid of dirt, he actually can pass as a knight, at least as long as he just stands there and doesn't open his mouth.

The sorcerer extends a piece of parchment with the farmer's new noble identity sealed onto it, "From now on, you're Sir William of Deira."

Arthur still doesn't seem convinced. He sighs, and then, they begin working on his stance and posture.

The new and improved Sir William walks back and forth in the house. Calliope sits on top of the table, her feet dangling as Arthur is perched on the bench beside her while they observe his movements. Calliope still twiddles with her favorite dagger, Arthur watching it with focused eyes as she jokingly slings it close to his face, causing him to make a startled move back, almost falling off the bench. As the blonde chuckles, he shoves her playfully with his shoulder, and she returns the gesture as Merlin ignores their annoying back-and-forth banter.

"Imagine you're really...arrogant," Merlin suggests, pulling Calliope and Arthur's attention away from each other. Right, they need to focus. "Knights like to think they're so much better than everyone else."

"It's not arrogance," Arthur snaps, turning back to the farmer. "Ignore him. He's an idiot. A knight must behave with honor and nobility," Sir William straightens his back, pinching his features to appear more serious. "That's...better. You must convince everyone that you were born into a noble family."

Sir William stops, glancing to Merlin like he's no more than vermin, "Polish my armor, boy."

The prince and Calliope let out a string of laughter, "Now you're getting the hang of it."

But, when he laughs, he shows all his teeth and squints his eyes in a ridiculous way that makes Calliope shakes her head, "Yeah, now, all you have to do is bang your head against the wall a few times, and maybe you can be just as smart as Arthur."

"You're so funny, Cal," Arthur says, throwing her an annoyed look before turning to Merlin. "He actually did have a good point. You need to polish our armor."

"Yeah," Sir William says, an excitement in his brown eyes.

The blonde stands when Merlin begrudgingly clatters the armor into a big, brown sack while Sir William retires back to his house for the night. Calliope eyes Arthur as he walks around the house, stretching his arms as he prepares for bed. She's reminded of the fact that Gwen has one bed and there are two of them.

Calliope leans down to the sorcerer, "I really hate this plan."

"Really?" Merlin tilts his head. "I thought you'd be excited about getting another chance to spend the night with Arthur."

He already expects the smack she gives him on his shoulder, "Merlin, he's engaged to Victoria. Do you really think now is the time I want to be stuck with him for four straight days??"

The sorcerer sends a look over his shoulder to the prince, "It'll be fine, Cal."

"I highly doubt that."

And as Merlin leaves, sending her one last clever grin, she is left in the house. All alone. With Arthur Pendragon.

She releases a heavy breath as she turns to him, throwing out her arms as he looks around the room awkwardly. Neither one of them seems sure of what to do next.

Yes, they've kissed once and shared a bed before, but that was in the face of imminent death. Without the factor of dying, she's not sure either one of those things would have happened, and now that's he's engaged, it makes the tension between them even more rigid when they are alone without any around to cool it down. Merlin is a great buffer. Oh, God, can he please come back?

The prince clears his throat, trying to think of something to say to ease the atmosphere surrounding them, "Lady Victoria was extremely unhappy when she heard of our expedition. She kept trying to convince my father to force you to stay behind."

Calliope scoffs, "Why am I not surprised?"

"She seems very jealous of you," Arthur says, as if he's walking across a tightrope and could fall at any moment to the fires below.

The blonde breaks his gaze, "She has nothing to be jealous of. She is your future wife, after all."

"Believe me, I've tried to reason with my father—"

"It's fine, Arthur," she says, stopping him from saying anymore, not wanting to have this conversation right now. "Really, I get it. You have a duty to your kingdom, and to your father. Besides, you and me," Calliope inhales a sharp breath. "I'm not sure the Crown Prince of Camelot and a wanted assassin would go over too well." She dares a look in his direction. "I know you're still angry with me."

"I'm not angry—"

"Fine, not angry, but wary of me," he can't deny it, but he rubs his chin, frustration on his face. "You don't trust me, not like before."

With a heavy sigh, he shrugs his shoulders, "I'm trying, Calliope."

"I know," she twiddles with her thumbs.

"Can I ask you a question?" she nods, hesitantly. "When did you decide not to kill me?"

She inhales a sharp breath. That's a complicated question. She always knew she didn't want to kill him, and that she would try to find another way, but she can't pinpoint the exact moment the shift happened inside her, "I'm not sure," she answers, honestly. "One day, I just knew I didn't want you to die."

Arthur nods, and she hopes her answer provided the clarity he was looking for, "I just hope..." he trails off, and Calliope wonders what he might say to her next as they stand across the room from each other, their shadows mingling under soft candlelight. "I hope we can still be in each other's lives...even if it's just as friends."

Friends. What a convoluted word for the bond between them.

She nods, trying to force a smile, "We are friends, Arthur."

But friends don't share kisses or intertwine their bodies underneath silken sheets. Friends don't stare a second too long or steal secret touches in the whispers of moonlight. And most of all, if two people are truly 'just friends', then they don't wish they could be more than friends.

So, this 'friendship', is doomed from the start.

Calliope is not surprised when Arthur lies down on the bed in the corner, not even bothering to ask if it was his or if Calliope also has a bed to sleep in, but after that conversation, there is no way she'd climb in with him.

Instead, she sighs and walks behind the curtains in the back of the house. Towards the wall, there are sacks of grain and potatoes, and Calliope raises her eyebrows, accepting this will be her bed for the next few days.

♛ ♛ ♛

The next day, the city is bustling with more life than usual as knights from all around the realm venture to Camelot to vie for the winning title. Calliope stands near the entrance to the arena, a black cloak around her body with the hood covering her face as she awaits Sir William's debut. He looks a bit unsteady on his horse as all the knights who are competing ride into the arena below the stage where the King stands to greet them.

Sir William will ride out every time his face needs to be shown, but Arthur will be the one jousting in the tournament. That is, if Sir William can stay on his horse. She watches as he struggles to get his horse to stand still, and she covers her face with her hand. This could end very badly.

The King raises his hands to silence the cheering crowd, "Knights of the realm, welcome to Camelot. You have trained for this day for many years, and your skill will be put to the test. Today, you will fight for glory and honor. For this is the ultimate test of courage, and it will be the measure of you as men," Yes, put a man's entire identity on whether or not he can knock someone off their horse. That makes a lot of sense. "For only the most skillful and most fearless among you will emerge as a worthy champion."

Arthur is in the first joust of the day, or she should say "Sir William". He sits atop is brown horse, it's black mane flowing in the wind as he grips his lance, facing his opponent. When the flags drop, his horse's hooves thunder against the ground, kicking up a whirlwind of dirt. The horses charge at each other, and Calliope inhales a breath, her chest tight as she watches the prince.

The loud clash of his lance into the knight's chest reverberates through the air as wood splinters everywhere. As the man falls, the crowd stands and erupts into a fit of wild cheers. Even the King seems happy and impressed. If only he knew that was his son, riding around the arena, raising his lance in victory.

When he turns from the crowd, Calliope brings her own hands together for him, grinning as he gives her a subtle nod.

Two other knights have impressive victories after Arthur: Sir Leon and Sir Alynor. Both proving to be worthy opponents, but Arthur's determination to prove himself doesn't fade when he faces his next joust and beats the knight opposite him with even more ferocity, the man's leg still stuck in the holster as his horse runs rampant around the arena.

As the last joust comes to a close, Calliope weaves through the many tents and knights outside the arena until she finds the tent where Merlin and William await the prince. She brings her hood down from around her face, and Arthur enters the tent, his blond hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. He hands William his helmet, beckoning him to exit the tent.

"You must go acknowledge the crowd."

William glances from the helmet to Arthur as the prince pours himself a glass of water, "How do I do that?"

"You wave. They cheer. It's not difficult."

The farmer nods, nervousness in his eyes, until he walks out of the tent and moments later, a roar of cheering escalates through the air outside.

Arthur shakes his head as he drinks his water, "I do the work, and someone else gets all the praise."

The sorcerer lets out a laugh of irony as Calliope tries to keep a straight face, "I know the feeling."

Ignoring his comment, Arthur turns to his servant, "When I win this tournament, I'll reveal my true identity—get the credit I deserve."

"Yeah, of course you will."

The prince doesn't appreciate his tone. He takes a few steps forward, "Well, don't just stand there. Help me off with my armor, and remember to polish it before tomorrow. The horse needs grooming, and don't forget to repair the broken lances."

Merlin looks to Calliope, "You care to help with any of this?"

She shakes her head, "Nope, I'm not even supposed to be here, remember?"

The sorcerer mutters something under his breath, and after he has Arthur's armor off and ready to clean, the prince and the assassin pull their cloaks on, hiding their true identity as they hurry back to Gwen's house for dinner.

Gwen left enough supplies for a few days for them. As Arthur sits at the table, Calliope examines the ingredients before her, trying to decide what to make.

When she makes up her mind, she begins warming the pot and cutting up carrots and onions and an array of other vegetables. Arthur doesn't bother to help. He reclines on the bed, relaxing as she does all the hard work. She's tempted to only make enough for one serving, but she can't having him starving to death when he's jousting in a tournament. God, she's cooking for him. This is so domestic and disgusting.

However, she doesn't make his bowl for him. No, that's going too far. She sits at the table, eating a spoonful of soup as Arthur grabs a bowl from the cupboard.

He plops down across from her at the table, and they eat in silence for a few minutes.

"I'm surprised you're letting Sir William have all the attention," the blonde finally says as she eats the last bit of soup in her bowl. "It's driving you mad, isn't it?"

He shrugs, "It's not so bad."

"You're a terrible liar," Calliope answers with a small grin. "Why are you even doing this? It can't be just to prove that you can beat Leon."

The prince chuckles, looking down to the table, "I fear that people respect me just because of my title."

"That's not true," Calliope says. "I've never had any trouble treating you just like everyone else."

"Yes, but you're different," his eyes move from the table to meet her own. "That's something I really like about you, even though you're annoying most of the time."

She rolls her eyes, standing to wash her bowl in the sink, "You'd be bored without me. Admit it."

"You're right," he says in a soft tone. "I can be myself around you. I don't feel like I have these expectations suffocating me."

"And competing as Sir William gives you a similar feeling?"

He nods, "When I'm competing as William my title doesn't matter. Nobody gives me any special treatment, so when I when I win this tournament—if I win this tournament, it will be because I deserve it and not because I'm Prince Arthur." Calliope leans back against the stove, looking over him with a sense of understanding as silence falls between them. Drawing in a breath, the prince stands. "I gather you'll clear the rest of the table?"

And he ruined the moment. Calliope snickers as she tosses him a rag, "You don't want special treatment remember?"

He glances from the rag to his dirty dish to the blonde all in one quick motion, "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"I suppose you'll just have to figure it out," she says over her shoulder as she washes up the pot, leaving Arthur to clean up his own dishes with a huge smirk on her face.

She continues to laugh at him as he struggles to wash his dish out, turning up his nose at the mess, and he mutters for her to shut up as it takes him way longer than it should to clean the bowl.

At least that night, as she tries to get comfortable amongst the grain and potatoes, she has something to amuse her until she falls asleep.

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i love writing this episode, and the next one will be even better. i'm so excited for you guys to read it :)

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