chapter twenty-five!
025. the lament of uther pendragon

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    OWAIN LANDED a blow, Odette was sure of it. No one else seemed to have seen what she did, but that didn't deter her. She had seen the blade pierce the Black Knight's chest, and she had seen Owain stagger with surprise when his opponent seemed to not have been harmed at all. That blow should have been a mortal one. It should have killed the Black Knight. But it didn't.

    While others mourned and grieved, Odette didn't. She kept moving▬she did not stop to think about the sight of his dead body, or to think that perhaps if she stopped, she might not even feel the need to mourn anything else except pity he didn't get the chance to realise his mistakes and become a better person. She didn't want to stop, because she was sort of worried about how easy she could leave Owain to rest with little care.

    Instead, she left Morgana once her services weren't needed anymore and rushed to find Merlin. She knew that if anyone else might've seen what she had, it would be him.

    She remembered the look on Uther's face▬there was history behind that gaze; and a dreadful one, too.

    Odette was so lost in her own dreadful thoughts she didn't realise she had found Merlin until she ran right into him. Though, this was quite a normal way the two often meet. She barged into his chest just as he and Gaius stepped out of the Physician's chambers.

    As soon as he steadied her, exclaiming her name, she met it with: "Merlin!"

    She glanced over his shoulder at Gaius, and then around them to make sure that the three of them were alone. Odette tugged her friend's sleeve to gather his full attention to whisper, "I must tell you something."

    They frowned at her. Merlin shared a brief glance with Gaius before pulling Odette a little closer to be sure no one overhead. "What is it?" he asked her.

    At the looks on their faces, she was sure they already knew▬and there was some relief within her amongst her fear. "It's the knight," she whispered as quietly as she could. Merlin and Gaius listened intently. "No one believes me, but you must▬I know what I saw. Owain struck a blow to the Black Knight▬I know it, I saw it. He should be dead, but he's isn't. There's something strange about him," her breath hitched slightly, still horrified from the morning's events. "He▬he doesn't move, he barely even talks, and I just ... I don't know, he doesn't seem▬?"

    "Alive?" muttered Gaius back.

    Odette frowned at him, but she nodded. "Yes," she said. "He doesn't seem as if he's alive, at all."

    The Court Physician pursed his lips before gently reaching out to guide her down the hallway in the direction they had been heading previously. "I fear you may be right, Odette."

    She was startled by his comment. Her brows shot up, "Hold on▬are you serious?"

    She continued to frown as she followed them down the corridor. She shuffled along to keep up with Merlin's long strides and Gaius's quick steps. Odette watched the grave face the physician held. "Where are we going?" she asked. "What is it you know?"

    Gaius only said, "Keep your voice down▬the last thing we want is for someone to overhear and spread panic."

    Odette didn't like the sound of that, "It is bad, isn't it?" she muttered. The look each of them held was enough to tell her it might just be something even worse.

    She followed Merlin and Gaius away from the citadel square and towards the depths of doors she would rather not step down if she had the choice. Odette immediately recognised the entrance to the burial vaults even before they reached the stairwell, remembering days where she used to be dared to enter down▬and still had nightmares from it. It never settled well with her, for someone who was alive to be around the bodies of those who weren't▬to disrupt their rest. And she felt as if▬as soon as Merlin helped Gaius push the door open▬the light cascading down the steep stairwell was doing exactly that.

    Odette coughed as soon as the dust hit her nose and throat, wafting it away and peering down the dark tunnel, feeling as if there was no end at the other side.

    When they started to step down, at first, she did not follow. She glanced behind them at the daylight and then back down to the darkness▬she swallowed a harsh lump of fear down her throat.

    Quiet, she called down to Gaius, "A▬are you sure we should be doing this?"

    Merlin glanced back at her. He arched a brow, "What▬are you scared, Odette?"

    He knew how to get her to do what he wanted exactly▬like many others before. As soon as one accused her of being scared of something, Odette immediately had to prove she was not. Growing up with two obnoxious boys as friends had truly rooted that into her being.

    "No," she grumbled and pushed onwards, stepping down into the darkness to meet them. "Of course, I'm not."

    The warlock hummed, not exactly believing her, "Yes, I'm sure."

    "I'm not!" argued Odette, clenching her hands and taking a very deep breath that only filled her chest with more dust that she had to cough out. There was so much settled dust that they left their footprints on the stone staircase. It was cold, too. She hated these crypts. "I'd just rather spend my day not wandering into a burial vault."

    "What?" immediately joked Merlin with every sarcastic breath he could manage. "No, I love old crypts. I wouldn't be seen dead anywhere else▬" she elbowed at that, and he nearly stumbled into the torch beside them▬

    And then, just like that, the gate slammed closed behind them; and they were smothered in darkness. Odette wished she hadn't squealed almost as loudly. Huddled up close to Merlin's side, she anxiously glanced back, expecting to see some ghostly white figure laughing at her screams.

    "What was that?" she whispered, terrified. "Who was that?"

    She knew Gaius had arched an incredulous brow at her in the dark, "Must've been a gust of wind," he told her▬and she realised that was very rational. The physician sighed, glancing around them. "We should've brought a torch..."

    An idea struck Merlin as he glanced at the torch he was nearly shoved into. In the black of the stairwell, his eyes flashed gold and with it, flames sparked from the birch. He reached out and grabbed it, quite proud of himself.

    Gaius hummed, a little impressed, "Oh," he said, "handy."

    Merlin grinned at them, "Yes," he said happily.

    They travelled the rest of the way down into the old burial grounds. Merlin led the way with the torch, though it barely did them any good. Odette could hardly see past a few steps in front. It provided little warmth, too. Despite the flames, it felt as if warmth could not exist down here▬Odette had chills and goosebumps; she shivered as they stepped into a room filled with pale, white stone coffins. On each of them, was carved a figure of who lied underneath▬each of them held their hands in a silent prayer. And it didn't settle well.

    Odette wanted to get out as soon as possible.

    "What are we looking for?" asked Merlin, hovering the flame over a nearby stone figure of some ancient Lord. He shared a quick, estranged look with Odette who turned up her nose, hating this very much.

    They glanced around, searching for Gaius to hear an answer, only to find him already halfway across the room. He stood over a coffin that Odette couldn't exactly see, it was too dark. But she had a feeling whatever it was they were looking for, he had found it.

    "Merlin, bring your torch over here," said Gaius.

    Merlin and Odette shared another look before doing as he said. Together, they made their way over to where he stood, and as soon as the light of the flames shone down, Odette's heart seemed to have fallen into her stomach.

    "We're breaking into someone's grave?" muttered Merlin, rather confused▬but his voice died down when he saw it. His jokes fell dry.

    Odette didn't know whose crypt this was▬there was no way to identify the figure on top of it for the stone had been cracked; splintered and broken as if someone had smashed their way right inside ... or someone had forced their way out.

    "We're too late," muttered Gaius. "I think someone has already broken out..."

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   GAIUS DIDN'T explain anything until they had returned to his chambers. And even then, he waited until the door was closed and he was sure no one was outside to even let Odette or Merlin burst out with their many questions. Odette really didn't know where to begin. At first she thought her feelings were just bad omen's to warn her of the Black Knight's intentions. She didn't expect herself to be right▬that the look behind his helm was truly soulless because he was really dead. But how was that even possible? How could a man return from the dead?

    "What is happening?" she asked immediately, shaking her head as Gaius marched straight for his many bookshelves. "What▬what did we just see? Who's grave was that?"

    Gaius looked as though he had taken a step back into a very dark and horrific past. He searched his books, his fingers trailing along the spines of many differing tales and manuscripts. "The grave belonged to Sir Tristan de Bois."

    Odette stopped for a moment. She recognised that name▬any person who lived in Camelot should know that name. Her brows knitted together, finding all of this very hard to believe, no matter her many tales and beliefs. To hear one right in front of her was far different than hearing it or trying to read it from a book. "De Bois?" she echoed, shocked. "You▬you think that knight is...?"

    Gaius sent her a quick glance over his shoulder, "I do, yes."

    Merlin was confused. He glanced between them, trying to keep up, "I don't understand▬who is this person?"

    "Sir Tristan de Bois was the brother of Ygraine," explained Gaius. "Uther's wife."

    "Arthur's mother?" frowned the warlock.

    "Ygraine died in childbirth," continued the physician. "He blamed Uther and came to the gates of Camelot and challenged him." He found the book he wanted and hefted the thick manuscript back to the table where Odette and Merlin waited.

    "To single combat?" guessed Merlin.

    "Uther won," Gaius dropped the book onto the table and Odette reared back at even more dust. "But in his dying breath Tristan cursed Camelot to one day suffer his return." He opened the book and started to flick through the many pages. "I thought it was the ramblings of a dying man."

    Merlin made a face, "Yes, but men don't just rise up from the dead, though, no matter how angry they are."

    He found the page he was looking for. Odette pressed her cheek against Merlin's shoulder to see▬and the picture shown was not one that belonged to fairytales, but instead nightmares. The pencilled art depicted a terrifying skeleton standing from the depths of his grave amongst clouds of skulls. Odette flattened the page with her fingers, rather unsettled.

    "What is that?" she whispered, not too sure whether she wanted to hear the answer.

    "A Wraith," answered Gaius gravely. The two servants tilted their heads, waiting for an explanation. " A Wraith is the spirit of a dead man conjured from the grave. I believe our knight might be just that."

    "So ..." Merlin muttered thoughtfully, "... this is the work of a sorcerer?"

    "Powerful magic can harness the grief and rage of a demented soul and make it live again," said the Court Physician.

    "How do we stop it?"

    "We can't."

    Merlin and Odette stared back at Gaius with wide, startled eyes. "What do you mean?" asked the young handmaiden with a hitched breath.

    Gaius sighed, "Because it is not alive," he told then, "no mortal weapon can kill it."

    "Surely there must be something?" asked Merlin.

    He shook his head. "Nothing can stop it until it has achieved what it came for."

    "And what is that?"

    "Revenge."

    "On Camelot?"

    Gaius nodded, grim.

    Odette grew sick all over again. She remembered how she saw that knight stand there, on the grounds, with his tattered flag and did not move a single muscle. She swallowed the bile back down her throat. Soft, scared and unsure, she asked Gaius: "What ... what does that mean for Sir Pellinor?"

    Gaius sighed at her. He hesitated before admitting: "I'm afraid it doesn't look good."

    As the day turned into late afternoon, Ronyn found himself yet to leave the castle and return back home. He stayed in the exact same position by the window Odette seemed to always love, confused to see himself searching for some sort of sign from the sun that tomorrow would be a better day. He didn't know what he'd find, or how he believed he'd receive it, but after this morning▬after the death of Arthur's young knight, Ronyn needed it.

    Or perhaps it was because he could see the Black Knight from here. He could stare down and find him having not moved an inch from the position he has been all day since today's fight. He glowered at him and narrowed his eyes, waiting▬just waiting▬for there to be a slight change in his stance ... but it seemed that when he was not fighting, the stranger became a statue, gazing upwards at the window of the King's chambers.

    He stood there, and he stared, until Ronyn became somewhat of a statue himself.

    He wondered what he wanted. He wondered why he was here. He wanted what he was searching for. So be it, he had grumbled after Sir Pellinor had taken his challenge to avenge Owain's death▬as if he was just another obstacle in whatever journey he had undertaken.

    Ronyn narrowed his eyes at the silver bird that flew in the wind at his side. Shredded and ripped▬a black sail lost and alone. They had never seen such a crest before, and yet, in all of his learnings and teachings, he was sure he must have seen it somewhere. Because it struck him with dreadful familiarity▬in such a way that set him constantly on edge.

    It was not a sigil of a house, nor a kingdom▬it was this knight's own crest; one of his own making. And there was only one knight in the books he has read over and over again that he could think of ... and yet, it could not be possible.

    Unless someone has taken on the legacy of Arthur's dead uncle, Ronyn was at a complete loss▬he dared not think Tristan de Bois had come back to haunt them all; he knew of the story. It was one of the few his father told him in faith that he'd keep his mouth shut, for not even Arthur knew exactly how his mother's brother died. His father never spoke of it, nor of his mother, and his remaining uncle who stood as the head of the de Bois house found no reason to come into his life ... the Prince was completely in the dark of the events that occurred so swiftly after his brith.

    He shook his head to himself. He knew it was not possible. This was another knight, with another self-made sigil, trying to continue his quest to fame and fortune within the tales of poets.

    He had to leave this window▬it was doing him no good.

    Ronyn turned. He started down the hallway just as another rounded the corner, and just like that, he came to an abrupt stop▬his heart skipping a beat as soon as he recognised the maid that approached.

    "Guinevere," he blurt out before he stopped himself.

    She stopped, too, looking up and away from her thoughts with a surprised glance. They stood there, staring at each other with such a gaping space that neither made a move to close.

    Guinevere Smith took a sharp breath through her nose, staring at him with a gaze he thought was burning. She pursed her lips and shuffled on her feet. "My Lord," she quickly replied.

    Ronyn didn't know how to speak. He hasn't said a true word to her since their conversation outside his manor and since that moment, his thoughts that he thought were already crazed with her, became consumed. He thought of the way she had chuckled, and smiled at him, and told him she thought he was brave▬so genuine and so beautiful ... how there had been no argument and no hatred ... how he had loved every second of it and now he did not know what to do▬how to act▬within her very presence.

    She had captured him, truly▬she had taken his intentions that began from his guilt and turned it into something else; something that he wanted to vex him and make him hate her ... but he did not. She made him run after her, and want to shout in frustration and feel as if he had entered some sort of Hell▬she made him do things that he didn't usually do. And he found it infuriating, and yet he could not get enough of it.

    And it was maddening, because he knew she would never feel the same way. She would never forgive him for all the wrongdoings he seemed to have done that he was unaware of▬wrongdoings he could never apologise for, even if he wanted to.

    "Guinevere," he said again, forcing himself to step towards her. "H▬how▬how are you?"

    She blinked, "S▬sorry?"

    Ronyn cleared his throat and tried again. "How are you? This morning ... it was hard to watch for anyone."

    Guinevere pursed her lips. She nodded, "I am fine," she told him. "And you, My Lord?"

    His mind wandered to the many disturbing thoughts he had at the window. "I am fine."

    She nodded again. She took a deep breath and went to leave. Ronyn frowned and quickly spun to stop her, "Wait, Guinevere▬" he reached out and grasped her wrist before he could think better.

    Gwen stopped in her tracks. Her entire body turned rigid, slowly turning back around to stare at his fingers that wrapped around her wrist. Her brows furrowed, unable to look away as Ronyn's grip became gentle, a brushing touch more than a grasp.

    When she met his gaze, confused and startled, he tried to explain himself. "I▬I would▬I mean▬perhaps we should talk."

    The blacksmith's daughter continued to frown at him, "About what?"

    He hadn't let go of her wrist. Ronyn stared, at a loss for words again. "Well," he managed after a short moment of thinking on his feet. "A▬about anything, really."

    Gwen tilted her head; it started to shake. She pulled her hand away from his grip. "There is nothing for us to discuss."

   Ronyn felt a pang in his chest at the tone of her voice, "What do you mean?" He tried his best to hide it. "I thought..."

    "What?"

    He shuffled in his step, pursing his lips and immediately feeling a burn to his cheeks in his embarrassment. "I thought ... well ... I thought after our friendly conversation outside the manor we were ... you know ... on friendly terms?"

    Ronyn thought he saw a change in Gwen's expression▬he thought he saw the lift of her brows; a break in her stern, guarded look that made his heart flutter. He felt stupid for it. She pursed her lips, taking a step back, "We are not on friendly terms, My Lord▬forgive me if I made you think so."

    His brows furrowed, starting to grow frustrated▬angry, even. How could she say that? How could she say that after all he's done to try and redeem himself in her eyes? After she smiled at him and chuckled at his jokes? What did he need to do to be forgiven? Why did he care so much?!

    He didn't hold back as he took a stride towards her; stepping in very close, "Why not?" he asked her, annoyed.

    Gwen was taken aback, "Sorry?"

    Ronyn shrugged, an anger rising up in his chest. "Why not?" he asked her again. "I have made mistakes▬I have apologised for those mistakes. I have tried to make it up to you, I have wanted to make it up to you. And yet you still dislike me▬why do you dislike me so much?!"

    The Lady Morgana's handmaiden stared at him, for once speechless as she tried to give him an answer. She grew flustered, realising that she couldn't form one. Ronyn's scoffed, unable to believe it. He tilted his head, his heart starting to race with his frustration. Then, Gwen managed to say: "Because▬!" she stammered on her words, "▬you▬you are▬you are rude! And you are frustrating! You▬you are inconsiderate and you are arrogant and you▬you▬you make me so mad I cannot breathe!"

    "You make me mad!" Ronyn replied, pointing a finger at his chest. "You are frustrating! I am prepared to beg for your forgiveness, do you know how frustrating that is?! Why do I even care about what you think of me▬it is obviously not worth it and yet I do! And that is infuriating▬you make me so mad I cannot breathe!"

    They stood there for a moment, silent and flustered▬breathing heavily as they stared at each other, just as mad as the other. Gwen clenched her jaw and held her heart in her throat, "I hate you," she croaked.

    Ronyn chuckled, wanting to curse whoever made him so enamoured by her. "You hate me," he echoed, brow arched. "So much you cannot breathe, huh?"

    She stood her ground, her gaze narrowed. "Neither can you, as you tell me."

    He eyed her for a moment. He could feel her breath hitting his neck▬hot and flustered. Or maybe that was him. "You don't hate me," he told her in a mutter.

    "Yes, I do," answered Guinevere.

    "Then tell me why."

    She pursed her lips. All of the sudden, she looked upset▬she shook her head and she set her jaw, as if the very thought that perhaps she did not hate him was horrible. And it hurt him, too. "I cannot," she whispered.

    "Why?" he demanded, growing a little desperate.

    "Because," said Guinevere softly, "it would hurt too much."

    Ronyn's anger lifted. His eyes widened and his chest grew quite heavy. He didn't know what she meant▬perhaps he did, and that was why he was so surprised and taken aback ... "What do you mean?" his voice was stuck in the back of his throat.

    "Because," she said again, meeting his gaze sadly, "if I do, then I must admit it▬and admitting it will remind me that it is pointless. You are the Lord Vecentia. I am a servant ... I cannot do anything else but hate you. As soon as I do not. As soon as someone walks around that corner ... you would look away, you would walk past, and you would forget me until the next time it would seem no one would see you to judge you. And I would be able to do nothing except let you ... except just watch ... and let myself be forgotten. So forgive me, My Lord ... but I must hate you ... I need to hate you."

    Ronyn realised. He realised her truth. And he thought it should be blissful▬wonderful and beautiful, even ... instead, he felt just as broken as she did. Because she was right ... as soon as someone walked around this corner ... he was a lord and she was a servant. "And what about what I feel?" he asked her softly. "What about my pain? The moment that I must walk away and yet I think of nothing except you▬all day, all night and into the morning; again and again and again. I cannot think of anything else. I cannot forget you, Guinevere, even if I tried. Even if I wanted to. And I have tried. I have tried."

    "You must," she told him.

    "But I do not want to▬"

   "But you must." Guinevere's brows furrowed and she looked down. "You must," she added again, her voice breaking softly. "Just as I must forget you. There is no place for us in this world, Ronyn ... you know that; you understand that. You will ... you will sit in your manor and I will scrub these floors▬as it is ... as it should be."

    And when she looked up again, Ronyn realised that she had shed a tear. "I should go," Guinevere stepped back and curtsied. "My Lord."

    Ronyn swallowed back a lump in his throat. He had to look down as she turned and walked away, forcing back the sting in his own eyes. But he could not. And perhaps he managed to hate her for it, just a little bit.

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    THE NEXT DAY, the battle for Sir Pellinor's life began. There was no excitement left▬not that there had been any to begin with. The grounds were still stained with Owain's blood. Servants had tried desperately to be rid of it before everyone was to take to the stands in the morning; but they could not. It was still there▬precisely where his body had fell, and Odette stared at it with something that was a mix of dread and terror.

    She could barely watch the Black Knight now that she knew what he was. Or what it was. She was sure there was nothing left of the man he once was aside from the anger that festered Tristan de Bois revenge. The darkness behind his helmet was a soulless enchantment: a dead man walking to complete his last, damned wish. A walking skeleton ... a living deadman's fury.

    She sat between Gwen and Morgana this time, hunched and terrified for what will happen. She felt cold and horrible▬overshadowed with guilt to know how this battle will end ... to know that no matter how hard Sir Pellinor tried, he will not kill a man who is already dead. He had no chance. He had placed himself onto his own execution block the moment he decided to pick up that gauntlet.

    But he was good. He was very good. He was so good that for a moment, Odette hoped that maybe Gaius was wrong▬that perhaps this wasn't a Wraith, and Sir Pellinor will end the life of this man with one well-aimed blow. She held her breath, and she held both of her friends' hands tight in each of her own.

    Sir Pellinor was an experienced knight. He has fought in many wars and has survived▬even despite recovering from his most recent battle wound, Sir Pellinor fought with a thirst for vengeance. He and the Black Knight parried back and forth, matching each other in what would seem like a fair fight▬even one Pellinor might win.

    Odette winced at each blow▬each time their blades kissed in the crisp midday air. She chewed her bottom lip, watching the fight with dreadful earnest to be proven wrong; hoping that each time the crowd cheered in favour of Pellinor's hits that knocked the Black Knight's chin and scathed his armour were a sign of his victory.

    Her gaze wandered past the King's box to where Arthur watched with just as much intensity. He gripped the arms of his chair tight▬he held his breath, scowling at each move the Black Knight made; each shuffle of his feet, each swing, trying to figure him out▬trying to find a weakness to beat. It worried her. It made her feel as if Arthur was trying to prepare himself for his own battle; trying to find the best way to take down the Wraith of his uncle in the most brutal way possible.

    Sir Pellinor darted away from a swing that nearly struck his stomach. He brought his shield upwards to deflect the Black Knight's second attack. He met his third with his blade▬again and again; Odette hoped ... no, she prayed that this knight was mortal. That he was human. That he could be taken down today.

    Mortal combat was terrifying, Odette realised. She's never fully witnessed it in the very stands she always watched them play their games with never the intention to kill the other▬at least, not like this. She's never seen a man killed so horrifically and pray the next wouldn't meet the same fate. She supposed this was what made men dread war and yet search for it all the same.

    Odette had her heart in her throat as she watched their blades meet in a bone-shaking clash! They stayed there▬they fought against each other, pushing against the others strength until Sir Pellinor forced the Black Knight's blade downwards. The metal danced in a circle over their heads before Pellinor locked his opponents blade between his own and his shield. The crowd gasped, they were on the edge of their seats. Odette couldn't breathe, let alone find anything in her to make even a sound as the two knights tugged and wrestled to disarm the other▬

    Pellinor let go. He sent the Black Knight stumbling backwards▬the cheers were lost; muffled and in the back of Odette's mind. She watched the way they moved, the way they raised their swords▬just like Arthur, she found herself searching for weakness▬any weakness to prove Gaius wrong, and if not, to find anything mortal about him to stop him.

    And when Sir Pellinor got the upper hand, the moment had come. Her breath hitched and she launched herself forward, grasping the wood of the stand to watch, anxious, when he ran the Wraith almost all the way through.

    The stands erupted with applause. Odette let out a breath of relief, slumping. They were wrong. He had won. He had done it. They were wrong ...

    The cheers died down. Sir Pellinor pulled his blade out and there was no blood▬nothing stained his weapon; there was just dark nothingness where he had pierced the Black Knight in his chest. He stepped back, but he did not fall. He just only stood himself taller ... as if he had never been struck at all.

    And Odette realised that the battle was over. Sir Pellinor would not get out of this alive.

    "The sword went in," breathed Guinevere, shocked, to her and Morgana. "I▬I'm sure of it."

    "I saw it, too," agreed Morgana, troubled.

    Odette looked away the moment the Wraith used Sir Pellinor's surprise to its advantage and killed him with a swift pierce through his heart. He dropped to the ground, only inches from Sir Owain's stained blood.

    She knew it would happen, and that pained her even more.

   Pursing her lips, she mustered enough courage to return her gaze forward just as the Knight stepped over Pellinor's still figure back towards the stands. He started to unclasp his gauntlet, eyeing the King with dark menace. He held it out▬

    Thud.

    The crowd fell silent, all of their heads turning as another gauntlet struck the ground. One that was freshly polished and clean▬one that held the Pendragon emblem brightly painted gold and scarlet.

    Arthur forced his father's hand away, standing at the edge of the stand to fume down at his uncle. Odette had never seen him more angry▬she didn't even notice that he had purposefully brought a piece of his armour he wasn't even wearing ... he had planned this; he had planned to do this. "I, Arthur Pendragon, challenge you," he declared loudly.

   He and the Black Knight stared each other down.

    The Wraith swung his broadsword over his shoulder, "So be it," he decided.

    "Single combat," said Arthur evenly. "Noon tomorrow."

    Odette stared at him, horrified as she realised that tomorrow, she was going to have to watch Arthur Pendragon fight a battle that she knew he will lose.

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    RONYN AND ODETTE found each other near the kitchen entrance, alone and away from anybody who might look over and question. They both knew they would search for the other in light of Arthur's decision and found this place the best to discuss with each other away from the rest of the citadel. Odette was a mess when he met with her, immediately grabbing his arm and pleading, "You have to stop him!"

    Ronyn sighed and shook his head at her. "I can't, Odette," he told her.

    "But you must!" she begged. "You have to speak to him▬to▬to make him see some sense▬to make him withdraw. He has to withdraw!"

    Her childhood friend took her hand and squeezed it, trying his best to calm her down. It wasn't the first time their Prince did courageous but dangerous things and came out of it alive. He was the kingdom's best warrior▬he would be an easy match against this knight, but Odette was crying as if she was watching him walk to his death.

    "You know Arthur," he told her gently▬albeit a little stern to remind her to take a breath and keep herself composed. "He won't withdraw▬he's a stubborn mule. Besides, he can't. It's more than just his pride at stake here."

    "But he has to," said Odette, her voice broken with quiet sobs. She furiously wiped at the tears on her cheeks. "He has to, Ronyn▬you have to talk to him."

    "I can talk to him," whispered Ronyn, "but he won't listen▬you know this." He shook his head at her, quite surprised to see her so hysterical over this. "What is it? You know Arthur is more than capable to win this fight, what is it?"

    "He isn't capable for this one," Odette whimpered. Ronyn's brows furrowed. "If▬if he faces this knight he will die."

    "He is the greatest warrior▬"

    "If the Knight makes a blow he will die," stressed Odette. "If Arthur makes a blow the Black Knight will not. You saw what happened. Both Owain and Pellinor made a mortal blow▬he did not fall! They did not phase him!"

    "Odette," Ronyn took her shoulders, meeting her gaze to tell her she needed to breathe, "Perhaps you thought you saw them make a blow▬but they must have missed▬"

    "They did not miss," she told him. "You know I'm right▬I know you saw Pellinor strike a mortal blow. Arthur's going to die, you have to stop him."

    "Odette, I know you are asking me to to do this because you know if you did, he would say no," Ronyn said and she stepped away, turning to hide how more tears brewed in her eyes. "He will be fine." When she didn't seem to have heard him, he said again: "Odette, he will be fine▬"

    "Ronyn," Odette spun back to him, "we just watched this knight brutally murder Sir Pellinor. Just the day before he killed Sir Owain in such a way I could never imagine I don't▬I can't▬"

    When she broke off and jutted her chin down, inconsolable, Ronyn began to understand. He scoffed a light breath, all frustration falling away and instead there was empathy within him ... he always saw it, but right now, here, he really saw just how much Odette cared▬even if she pretended she didn't.

    But this time, he did not stay quiet about it. After his conversation with Gwen yesterday, he did not want to stay quiet. Was it out of pain, out of understanding or even out of bitter anger that he knew Guinevere was right? He did not know, but it made him tell Odette the truth.

    Ronyn pursed his lips and watched her carefully as he said: "You care for him, don't you?"

    Odette frowned back up at him, "What?" she sniffled.

    "Odette," Lord Vecentia walked up to her, gentle and careful, "look me in the eye right now and tell me you do not care for Arthur. In a way more than a friendship."

    She was silent with shock for a moment. Then, she looked away, stammering a quick, "I▬I don't know what you are talking about▬"

    "Odette," Ronyn stopped her and she pursed her lips, briefly closing her eyes. "I know you very well▬you've always admired him, you've always followed him around. You've always tried to impress him▬you still do. You don't think I haven't seen it?"

    She still wouldn't meet him in the eye. "That doesn't mean anything."

    "Look me in the eye," he told her again. "Look me in the eye and tell me, Odette."

    Finally, Odette found his gaze. She took a sharp breath through her nose; her cheeks red and stained with tears. She looked right into Ronyn's eyes and she lied: "I do not know what you are talking about."

    She quickly left after that, prepared to go and talk to Arthur herself. Odette didn't ask Ronyn to talk to him instead because she knew he wouldn't agree with her, but more so because she was a little scared on who she will see. Ronyn's words plagued her mind continuously the entire journey towards the Prince's chambers▬and she hated to think that there was truth to them. Odette used to think she would never like anything about a man who was like Arthur; someone who was arrogant and inconsiderate on many occasions. Who was shallow and would only cause her nothing except pain and hurt. He wasn't some amazing, poetic hero like Lancelot▬and yet ... Odette has given little thought to him since he left, other than that she was sure she will never see him again. Instead, she had started to see just how much Arthur has changed in such a short time. She started to feel like that little girl again, following him around with a breath of admiration▬perhaps Ronyn was right, if that is the case. Perhaps Odette was just like every other maid who had fallen soft for that blue gaze, despite every fault and every flaw.

    But she lied to him▬of course, she lied to him. How could she admit to something she knew nothing would come of it. She was no princess; no delicate swan in a pretty silk dress ... she was just Odette. She will be nothing more.

    Yet she still always finds herself outside the door to his chambers. She always found herself reaching out to gently knock, always a little hesitant to whoever will be waiting behind it.

   "Come."

    She opened the servant door and slipped inside, pressing her back against it as it closed in order to observe where he stood in the room. Odette pursed her lips to find him scowling through his window, clutching his sword tight at his side. When he glanced over and saw that it was her, she noticed him roll his eyes and grumble out, "Are you here to tell me I will not win this fight, too?"

    Odette was wise to stay silent. She looked down at her feet and stayed there with her back pressed against the door. She didn't know how to explain it to him▬to plead him not to fight; to just once step back▬without making it seem like she didn't think him capable. She knew he wouldn't believe her if she was to tell him the whole truth. He'd call it one of her many wild, mystical fairy tales.

    When she didn't say anything, Arthur turned to face her, already annoyed from his previous chat with Merlin, "What is it?" he demanded. "Surely you haven't come to just stand there, Odette▬spit it out."

    A lump formed in her throat at the tone of his voice. She forced herself to swallow it back and didn't meet him in the eye. She heard him scoff and knew he shook his head to look away. "Right," he muttered. "So you do believe it▬you have come to say the same thing."

    She remembered the brutal way of which the Black Knight had murdered both Sir Owain and Sir Pellinor, and Odette didn't think she could even imagine having to watch the same thing happen to Arthur. She tried to say something, but no sound came out of her throat.

    The Prince threw his head backwards and spun to face her once more, "I can hear you thinking. Just say it, Odette!"

    "I'm worried," she blurted out▬her voice choking through the lump that ached in her throat. "Please ... please don't be angry at me."

    Hearing the break in her voice immediately dissipated the frustration in Arthur's being. He stared at her, and the look on his face softened. He pursed his lips, looking down to his feet, too, suddenly quite ashamed. Silence settled between them, before he muttered, "I know what you will ask, Odette," he took a deep breath and set his jaw. "I cannot withdraw, you know this. It is my duty. This man killed my knights, I cannot let him kill any more."

    "Even if you're risking your own life?" she whispered.

    He sighed, "We've had this conversation."

    Odette hugged her stomach. She still hadn't moved from the door. Arthur started to watch her again, and he wasn't too sure how to handle the fact she was almost in tears over her worry for him.

    So, he decided to tell her: "When my father crowned me his Heir Apparent, there are promises I have to live up to. I swear to protect this Kingdom, its peoples▬every breath under Camelot's name. It does not matter who they are▬whether they are highborn or they are lowborn, it is my duty to keep them all safe. To show that I can keep them safe. And that responsibility▬this kingdom, it is very important to me. I am prepared to die for it."

    "You cannot rule this kingdom if you are to die before it is time for you to become its King," pointed out Odette.

    "No," admitted Arthur Pendragon, "but that doesn't mean I will never stand by and do nothing. And despite what everyone seems to think, I will defeat this Black Knight. Why can't you hope for that▬you seem to hope for everything else?"

    There was a lot of things she wanted to say in retaliation, but she couldn't seem to find any energy within her to argue. In the end, she just said again, "I'm worried about you. That does not mean you are not brave, or▬or capable ... it just means I'm worried about you. I don't want to sit in those stands tomorrow and watch you get hurt."

    She didn't want to see the look on his face, and so she frowned down at the floor. If she had, she would have seen something gentle amongst surprise. She would have heard his sigh better, and watch the way the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a soft, understanding smile.

    Arthur took a deep breath and nodded to himself, "Odette, come here."

    She did meet his gaze this time, her brows furrowing. "What?"

    "Just▬" he gestured for her to get closer, "▬come here."

    "Why?"

    The Prince stared at her, exasperated. "Because I'm the Prince and I'm telling you to come here▬just come over."

    Odette eyed him strangely as she slowly approached him. He soon rolled his eyes at her, and she found it ridiculous how the circumstances between them▬their tones and the atmosphere of their conversation▬could change so quickly.

    When she finally reached him, standing opposite him in the centre of his chambers, Arthur awkwardly reached out. She stared, incredulous as he hesitated before placing his hand on her shoulder.

    He leaned down a little to meet her gaze. He squeezed her shoulder, "You won't see me hurt." Before she could say anything, or even think about the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, Arthur pulled away and said, "But if you really are that worried, I shall propose this: give me something of yours."

    She blinked, taken aback. "Sorry?"

    "Just▬" he was getting suddenly quite flustered, and so then was she, very confused on what he was trying to do. "Just give me something. Something you care about, or something you do not, it does not matter. What matters is that I shall keep it with me until this fight is over. Therefore, I will have to survive this fight in order to return it to you. Which means you have no need to worry, because I promise I will return it."

    Odette was speechless. Her brows furrowed, her lips pursed. She was about to say that she did not have anything to give, but her words left her.

    This is why, she realised suddenly. This is why you care. This is why Ronyn is right.

    And it was why that Odette did not say she had nothing to give, but instead gave him something that meant everything to her. The young maidservant reached back and unclasped the clip from her hair. The waves fell down her shoulders and around her gentle face; golden and soft. She glanced down at the hair clip, fiddling with it in her fingers before with a sharp breath through her nose, she passed it over to him. "Here," she said in a quiet voice. "It was my mother's."

    Arthur took it very carefully. He held it with the same tender touch as she did▬a touch she understood; the touch of a child who lost his mother, too. And she knew he would take care of it. He nodded, "I will return it to you," he promised her. "In person. I swear on it."

    Odette nodded, too. Then, she found herself smiling, "Then I shall have something to hope for."

    The Prince breathed a small smile, too. He found himself resting his hand on her shoulder again. "I promise you now, Odette," he told her gently▬he didn't know how she did it, made him so annoyed, and yet bring out this side of him even he didn't completely understand, "I won't be dying anytime soon."

    Odette wondered whether this moment between them was becoming something rather special. Something she will treasure. "That better be a promise, too," she said.

    He briefly cupped her cheek▬so quickly, it was almost as if it had been just a breath of air; a brush of nothing, but it left her skin burning hot. "It is."

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    a/n: yes, short (er) chapter lol but I wanted to do the whole exalibur storyline from merlin's pov next chapter cos I'm nothing if not a sucker for including important arthurian moments from the show in my books and fan-girling over them while everyone else is like ... um ... okay ...

    its December and I'm in such a sad merlin mood. I'll need to have a chapter ready for Arthur's death day like I will have failed as a fanfic writer if I don't post on the 24th. (even tho cos like I live in Australia it might technically still be the 23rd in other places still). 

    merlin's going off Netflix after tomorrow and I also have my driving test tomorrow, too. (only took me a few years lol). 

    headcannons!! as many headcannons as possibly because I love these characters so much like I can't even- like don't be surprised if I just write a completely different book where there is no angst and its just merlin and odette being menaces with Arthur trying desperately not to have them accidentally destroy the castle. 

    gwen around everyone else: *happy* *cute* *easy-going*

    gwen around ronyn: why do the fUk dO yOu eVEn ExIST sTOP mAKING mE LOVE yOU-!!!

    I want to be friends with odette and merlin it isn't fair.