chapter twenty-six!
026. the birth of excalibur

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    MERLIN WAS running out of time. By the morning, this Black Knight will take Arthur's life▬and even then his vengeance would not be fulfilled. This wraith could not be destroyed by his magic, nor could he persuade Arthur to withdraw. He was running out of time, and he was running out of options. He found himself furious. Because despite how impossible something might seem, no matter what furious insults Arthur will shout at him in his anger and no matter how dangerous the thing he will face is, Merlin was still expected to go out of his way and save the Prince's life. His destiny required him to make the impossible probable and never receive gratitude▬it required him to sacrifice already, and he didn't even know what that meant in regards to how much he will continue to sacrifice. 

    He found himself venturing into the castle library in the midst of the night. With a breath of a charm, the door opened itself to him and he slipped inside, lighting a candle to show a dim pathway before him of many books and no answers. But he still searched them. He still dragged his flame across the many spines, looking at titles▬some in languages he could not even read▬in hopes to find something that might just help him.

    Though, he didn't even know what he was looking for. 

    Merlin fumbled with a book▬a few of them tumbled to the floor and he cursed. Crouching down, he went to pick them up when a pair of feet stopped him. They stood before him and slowly, he glanced up only to purse his lips, sheepish to find Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth stare back down at him. 

    There was a small stare off. Merlin swallowed harshly. He clutched one of the books under his arm. 

    "How did you get in here?" asked Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth.

    "The door was open," Merlin quickly lied. 

    "No," he said, "I locked it."

    "Well someone else must've opened it then."

   "And you thought you could come in and help yourself?"

    Merlin shuffled back to stand on his own feet, hunched up at the old knight's scowl. "I▬uh▬I was looking for a book," he decided to say. "For Gaius. He thinks the Black Knight is a Wraith."

    Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth's miffed anger of Merlin's trespassing disappeared the moment he said those words. "Then Arthur is in grave peril."

    "Which is why I'm here," Merlin hated how he sounded a little breathless (and desperate) as his time started to draw to a close. "I need to find a weapon that will kill something that is already dead."

    Sir Geoffrey frowned in thought. Merlin watched him, and his brows listened when he seemed to give him answer, "Well, I have read of such things in ancient chronicles."

    "Really? What did they say?"

    "Well, several fables speak of ancient swords."

    "That can kill the dead?"

    "The swords the fables speak of could destroy anything. Alive or dead."

    Merlin's heart pounded with a different beat. He set the book and his candle down on the table, leaning forward towards the old knight with every severity he held in his tone, "Can you show me one of these fables?"

    Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth brushed his beard as he thought back on his many memories. Then, he murmured, "Yes ..." before turning to a shelf Merlin had not thought to look. He frowned as Sir Geoffrey wandered past the many books shrouded in dust and cobwebs▬their pages never seeming to have been opened in years.

    As he waited, Merlin tried to think of what this weapon could look like. What powerful weapon had the ability to destroy both living and dead? It seemed daunting, and yet he was more than ready to wield it with little thought on what consequence it might bring. 

    He soon grew impatient as Sir Geoffrey continued to slowly check each and every spine. "I'm sort of in a hurry," he said, trying to make him get a move on. 

    But he kept his slow pace, muttering, "Yes ... you young people always are."

    When he finally found what he was looking for, Merlin jolted forward with a breath of urgency. He was at Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth's side in a matter of seconds, hovering over his shoulder as he set the large manuscript on the table. Merlin coughed away dust and held his breath as Sir Geoffrey searched through the pages. 

    He stopped on a tale within the very centre of the manuscript. "This is the Chronicle of Beltane," he told Merlin. Then, he began to read: "Sir Marhaus looked upon the great sword begotten in the dragon's breath and found it passing good▬'"

    Merlin's heart jolted. He leaned further forward, eyes fixed on the drawing depicted in the centre of the page. He saw a man standing before a mighty dragon, bequeathed in the flames of his fury▬the only thing separating him and his death were that of a single blade hovered in between. "What did you say?" he whispered, rushed. 

    Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth frowned at him, but repeated: "Sir Marhaus looked▬"

    "No, no▬" Merlin cut him off, shaking his head. He tapped the picture, "▬about the dragon."

    The old knight continued to frown. "... The great sword begotten in the dragon's breath..."

    And just like that, Merlin knew how he was going to save Arthur. Without another word, he rushed out of the library▬he went off at a run down the corridor. He could feel his blood pumping, making his mind race with all that he knew he needed to do. 

    Perhaps Merlin very well face and conquer the impossible. 

    He soon found himself outside the door to Morgana's chambers. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he raised his fist and knocked on the wood. It opened gently, revealing a handmaiden with golden waves. Odette smiled as soon as she saw him, "Merlin." He faltered, all that he was about to ask falling away as he realised it wasn't who he was looking for (for once). She didn't notice, setting her cheek against the open door. "What are you doing here?"

    Soon, the girl he was looking for appeared at Odette's shoulder. Merlin's gaze flickered towards Guinevere who smiled in greeting, too. He shifted his feet, "Uh ... I've come to ask for a favour."

    "Yes?" said the two handmaidens.

    Merlin hesitated. Now that he has stopped, he began to realise what he was going to ask▬and how Guinevere had every right to tell him no. "Uh ... I'm not too sure how to ask it."

    Odette made a face. She shook her head with a light chuckle, "Ask, Merlin," she said. "You know that I would grant you anything▬" she flushed at how those words sounded. Merlin frowned at her, trying to let her know that he wasn't asking one of her, but she soon went into a flustered rant that he couldn't stop, "▬I▬I mean, not anything." She chuckled again, awkward and embarrassed. "O▬obviously not anything ... obviously ... that is not what I meant▬"

    Merlin hated cutting her off, but he was in a hurry. "I▬I was asking Gwen."

    Odette fell silent. Her eyes widened, she flushed even brighter. "O▬oh," she let out. Her embarrassment only went to greater heights. "O▬oh, okay. I▬I knew that." He nodded, not quite believing her. "Of▬of course, I knew that. I wasn't▬I didn't make it about myself, obviously, I'm not trying to make anything about myself▬"

    "What is it you want?" Guinevere interrupted, getting straight to the point which Merlin appreciated. 

    Merlin met her gaze. In a whisper, mindful of anyone else who might be listening, he said: "I've come to ask for a sword. The strongest sword your father has ever made."

    Gwen's brows furrowed, taken aback. "What for?" she asked in the same hushed, grave tone. 

    Merlin set his jaw, determined: "To save Arthur."

    The blacksmith's daughter pursed her lips. Brows still furrowed, she shifted her weight, hesitant to make a decision▬but as she glanced at Odette who had become wide-eyed, and then back at Merlin, she soon made it: "All right▬come with me."

    Without Morgana around, the three servants took the chance to slip away from her chambers and out of the castle into the night. Guinevere led Merlin and Odette back to her home. They passed the grounds of which the Black Knight had not moved an inch from his post▬the three of them stared at him, dreading the morning before they ran along, not wanting to be close to him for much longer.

    Guinevere snuck them into her home where she took them to her father's bed. He was out at the forge, and so she quickly knelt by his bedside and gently pulled something out from underneath. Gwen set the object onto his sheets, meeting Merlin and Odette's gazes warily. 

    "My father's been saving this," she muttered, beginning to unwrap the cloth to show a brilliant forged blade▬far better than Merlin has seen any man wield before. "He's always said it was the best sword he's ever made."

    Merlin gave her a small grin as he picked it up himself to peer at it in the candlelight. It glimmered, as if made with little pieces of gold. He didn't know how to explain it, but he could feel it▬in his fingers, up his arms and into his very being ... that this sword would be exactly what he needed. That it was special in the way it shone; a sword crafted for a future King. "It's perfect," he told the blacksmiths daughter who only rested her chin on her folded arms against the bed.

    "He'll kill me if he finds I've taken it," she mumbled. 

    "He'll understand," Merlin told her instantly▬very grateful. "You did it for Arthur."

    Gwen gave him a sweet, sheepish smile at those words. "You are proud of him, really."

    Merlin didn't say anything, instead managing a quick little smile back. 

    He had to leave after that. Throwing and wrapping the cloth back around the blade, he got to his feet. He knew as he left Guinevere's home that Odette was following. 

    "What are you doing?" she asked him in a whisper as they walked through the Lower Town streets back to the castle at a speeding pace. "What are you planning? How will that sword kill the Wraith?"

    Merlin glanced at her. He hated lying to her▬she caught him out on it once, and he was sure she will again. But he couldn't tell her about the dragon. He didn't know why▬but there was something stopping him. He gazed at the way she stared at him, expectant of an answer▬desperate to know how he will save Arthur's life on the morrow. Desperate to know that Arthur will be okay. Merlin's brows furrowed a little; he noticed that she was not wearing her mother's hair clip to keep her waves out of her face. Instead, they fell down her shoulders. 

    The young warlock turned the covered blade thoughtfully it his grip, feeling a deep resonation with nothing other than magic, he knew. It was telling him something▬it whispered to him in the night wind, warning and providing him secrets to his ears. They whispered to him about Odette right now▬later, he'll try and decipher why. 

    He looked down at the blade hidden and decided to tell her a tale of his own: "This blade is destined to be wielded by a man who will one day become King▬the greatest King the land will ever know. He who holds Excalibur, can only try to wield its power, but it is only the Once and Future King that will truly know how to master it."

    He was sure she'd find him crazy and call him right out for making up such a ludicrous tale, but Merlin started to realise ... at the look on Odette's face ... she truly believed him. And he wondered that perhaps it was the belief of those such as her that make these tales become true before they become legends. 

    "You believe Arthur is such a man?" she whispered to him, eyes bright and hopeful. "How do you know this sword is this legendary Excalibur? Is it ..." she glanced around and dropped her voice even lower, "... is it your magic?"

    Merlin met her gaze▬an air of mystery settled about him. He didn't answer her. He continued on his way, leaving Odette to watch him go, mystified. 

    He made his way down to the dungeons with a determined stride in his step, the sword tucked underneath his arm. He lit his way with a torch through the night and darkened stone corridors, stepping deeper and deeper beneath the citadel's foundations. 

    When he arrived, he found the Great Dragon stirring from his sleep. Merlin took a deep breath, taking the blade from underneath his arm to clutch tight in his hand. 

    "Merlin," greeted the creature and he set his jaw.

    "Do you know why I'm here?" he called. His voice echoed into the dark cavern. 

    The Great Dragon peered at him, huffing out a hot breath of annoyance that brushed Merlin's hair out of his eyes, "It may surprise you, Merlin," he grumbled, "but my knowledge of your life is not universal."

    "It is to do with Arthur," said Merlin hurriedly. "His life is in danger. He will die▬unless I can make a weapon that will kill the dead..." he started to unwrap the cloth▬he missed the set of the dragon's scaly maw, starting to realise what Merlin's intentions were.

    Before the young warlock could unveil the blade fully, with a draw of his breath, the Great Dragon pulled the blade into a hover before him. Merlin glanced up, amazed as he saw the sword lift into the air, glinting in the flames of his torch.

    "So ... what do you come to ask of me?" queried the dragon, and in the gleam of his eye, Merlin had a feeling he already knew the answer.

    "Will you burnish it?" asked Merlin. "To save Arthur?"

    The creature continued to stare at him, and the look he held made Merlin uncomfortable. He did not trust the Great Dragon▬and he knew right now, he probably never should. The blade continued to hover between the gaping canyon that rest beyond the edge. "The dead do not return without reason," said the dragon. "Who has he come for?"

    Merlin pursed his lips. He knew as soon as he said it, the dragon would most likely refuse to help. "... Uther."

    He was right. The Great Dragon narrowed his eyes▬and he was happy with this information; glad. "Then let him take his vengeance and the Wraith will die without my aid."

    "But it is Arthur who is going to fight him," pleaded Merlin. "You have to save him."

    "That is your destiny, young warlock, not mine."

    "But if Arthur fights the Wraith and dies, Camelot will have no heir▬I will have no destiny!" said Merlin, throwing his hands out. 

    He watched the dragon narrow his eyes yet again▬a ferocious, golden gleam that was hesitant before he finally answered with great reluctance, "A weapon forged with my assistance will have great power."

    Merlin nodded, sighing out a breath of relief, "I know▬"

    "You do not know," snapped the dragon. "You can only guess. You have not seen what I have seen. If you had, perhaps you would not ask this of me."

    The young warlock frowned. "What do you mean?"

    "In the wrong hands this sword could do great evil. It must be wielded by Arthur and him alone."

    Merlin nodded. "I understand."

    "You must do more than understand," said the Great Dragon. "You must promise."

    The young warlock faltered. It was easy to promise somebody▬but to promise a dragon who has seen ages rise and fall ... he felt as if he was swearing upon the promise of his grave and if he were to fail and break it ... the fate would be something far worse than death. 

    But he swallowed harshly and set his jaw. "I promise," declared Merlin. 

    The Great Dragon gave him a final stare▬one he felt as if it searched deep within his soul; it saw every secret he held, every path he could take and every path he might not. His choices had been spread out for the ancient creature to decipher until he finally decided he found enough to consider Merlin worthy enough of his word. 

    He began to rear his head back and Merlin scrambled back towards the gate. He heard the sound of a long, low rasp▬the dragon drew his breath; drew the magic of his very bearing into the fire that started to glow in the depths of his throat. Merlin hid his face in his hands as the Great Dragon opened his maw and bathed the weapon in a wave of flames. The cavern around them lit up into a red glow that rivalled even a Pendragon's scarlet▬it burned against Merlin's skin through his clothes, turning his cheeks hot and singing the cliff edge he stood on to a layer of blackened ash. 

    When the glow began to fade, the heat still stayed. Merlin peered over his sleeve to see the blinding light exist where the sword had been. It absorbed the heat▬the magic; every breath of it clouded the blade and disappeared into its hilt, drawing a long, golden line down its centre. The golden mist wrote words▬runes that was embedded with the sorcery of the last dragon: 

    Take me up, it said. And on the other side, it finished: Cast me away. 

    Merlin was breathless with awe of Excalibur's beauty▬a blade so fine and gleaming; forged by the hands of the people and blessed with the power of destiny. It glowed with power that surged through Merlin himself, making him speechless as he continued to stare at the words engraved in gold. It was a sword not just for a prince, or any leader who sat himself upon a throne. This blade was crafted truly for a man who was to bring forth the greatest legacy of all time▬a man who would one day become a legend: a sword fitting for the Once and Future King; for Arthur Pendragon and any worthy to rule in his name. For he and his sons, and their sons, and their grandsons▬

    This blade was only meant for one bloodline, and one bloodline only. 

    And Merlin knew it would be the greatest bloodline in history. 

    They had said in the streets of Camelot, the day the Prince became of age, that his legacy would be one of the better. That his descendants would be blessed with beauty, and courage, wisdom and strength▬that he would make the Pendragon name something great, loved and respected; feared by their enemies and blessed by their people. A royal line that might just be closer to god than to man. Merlin found it all utter bullshit▬until he gazed upon this sword this dark night. 

    (And perhaps he was proud to be the manservant of Prince Arthur ... just a little bit). 

    "Heed my words," warned the Great Dragon. "This sword was forged for Arthur and him alone."

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    ODETTE WORE HER hair down; she let it tumble over her shoulders and down her back. She twisted it gently away from her eyes, but the rest of it had fallen free, basked in the noon glow of the fresh afternoon. Perhaps she wanted him to remember his promise▬that if he saw her without her hair clasped back, he'd decide not to just fight for Camelot and his Knights, but instead, Arthur would fight for her. Or perhaps it was something more than that. Perhaps she wanted his attention, too. She wanted him to see that she remembered; that she was keeping to her side of their promise▬she wanted him to see her. She hoped that if he saw her, that would make him win.

    But she was sure of who would walk out alive today▬and it wouldn't be the Black Knight. Merlin told her the future of Arthur's destiny, and the great sword he would wield▬he wasn't going to die today, she knew that. She believed it. And she was not scared. Instead, as she carefully stepped into the stands amongst everyone else, gently making sure her hair stayed in its place, she felt this strange thrill. She would sit in between Morgana and Gwen, and they would not know her little secret. They would not know the promise she and the Prince had made each other. They would not know why she bit back a small little smile as she remembered the brief feeling of his fingers brush her cheek▬and how much they made her yearn to feel it again. 

    It made her forget how she told herself it would never do her any good. It made her forget how she was not in a place to be worthy of any affection▬a servant was not the object of a Prince's gaze, even if deep down, she wanted herself to be. 

    Ronyn was right. He had been right for a while▬even before Odette decided to admit it, the moment they shared words in the safety of an alcove after Merlin saved Arthur from the siren words of Sophia Tír Mòr. He was right when he told her that Odette always wanted to impress the Prince▬from childish dares that turned into showing how much she has grown, both in mind and body that made her something more than a naive girl who hoped for too much. 

    But she was still naive. Maybe Odette will always be a little naive. 

    Yet, that glimmer▬the shine in her eyes▬seemed to be filled with the same golden magic of the sword Merlin forged; as if its sorcery had been crafted from the very hope and love of his people. 

    Around her, the air was apprehensive▬just yesterday, they had watched this Black Knight murder one of their greatest, and the day before, murder one of their youngest. And now, there was a possibility they were going to watch the end of the future. 

    Morgana was tearful. She tried to hide it, but she chewed her bottom lip and looked down at her fingers where she played with the jewellery around her wrists. Through all of their differences, Morgana le Fay loved Arthur Pendragon▬whether it be as children that grew into the promise of lovers, or the heart of siblings that was never connected by blood; they loved each other. They would do almost everything for one another. They might insult the other until their tongue was laced with red, but when it came to defending each other from anyone else, it was ruthless. Odette knew Morgana would raise a sword in battle for the Prince, and Arthur would adventure the ends of the earth if it meant to save her life. 

    She had chosen to wear a summer garment of scarlet in favour of the Prince. But she bore her father's brooch▬Odette didn't know what made her feel the necessity to bring Sir Gorlois with her this dreary day, but maybe it brought Morgana her own breath of hope; or even a desperation to pray that Arthur did not die in battle like her father did. 

    Odette felt something shift beside her, and she glanced to her side. She was surprised to see Ronyn take the seat beside her▬he sent her a brief glance until it glazed over Odette and locked onto Guinevere's. She frowned, glancing between the two of them, but they did not seem to notice. Gwen pursed her lips; she looked pained. Soon, she had to look away. 

    The young maid forced the Lord Vecentia's attention back onto her so she could ask, "Why are you sitting here?"

    Ronyn managed to make an estranged face that turned out to be more grim than anything, "I'm allowed to sit anywhere I like."

    Odette's brows started to lift▬but she was hesitant, she did not want to be disappointed. "But ... but you're sitting next to me ... people will notice?"

    Ronyn pursed his lips. She could see that the thought was making him rigid. Odette started to wonder whether it was not shame he felt, or conditioned society▬but instead a fear of how people would treat him. The little boy in him that was hit and was beaten down rose up his throat to be treated that way again if anyone did not like him▬did not glorify him. 

    But today, that seemed not to matter. He pushed it down to meet her gaze and smile gently, "I suppose, in this moment, I just need a friend."

    Morgana, who overheard his words, glanced over and sighed. She reached out and squeezed Ronyn's arm, "Then friends you shall have," she told him kindly. 

    Gwen shyly locked his eyes once more, a vulnerable stare she had never sent him once before. She was scared, but there was something else▬a pain to remember their words that spoke like a dreadful confession, and remember yet again nothing could come from it. But having said it, it made everything more real▬it made everything she felt: every frustration, every anger, every ache to her chest worse; the desperation to not be stealing glances over their friends' shoulders. The want to cry and ask why she let herself feel different▬to let Ronyn get into her head and change every stubborn hatred she had been so determined to keep. 

    Everyone was beginning to grow agitated as the sun brushed over noon, and the King had yet to arrive to take his seat for the fight. He was unusually tardy to such things, let alone a death-defying match against his son▬but while the King was late, so was the Prince. Odette frowned, searching for him amongst the entrance to the grounds, but she saw no glimpse of flaxen hair, or even Merlin who she was sure was going to be at his side. 

    But when the drums sounded, there were a few gasps and murmurs of shock to see not their Prince march his way to the field, but instead the King. 

    The Black Knight turned▬he had been still the entire time, but as if he could sense the quench of his bitter vengeful thirst coming towards him, he sought it out. The stands were silent with breathless horror, watching the grim set of Uther Pendragon's jaw as he came to stand before Sir Tristan de Bois. 

    Morgana shook her head. She glanced at Gwen, Odette and Ronyn, though she knew they would have no answer as to why▬only as to what Uther had done: he had stepped forward to take his son's place. 

    "You can have what you came for," said the King, scowling into the dark slits of the knight's scathed visor. "The father, not the son."

    A servant hesitantly walked forward to unclasp the King's robes from his shoulders, and in the glint of the sunlight that had started to shine through the overbearing clouds, Odette saw a blade marked with gold. Her brows furrowed, recognising it with a deep resonating feeling within her▬and then her eyes widened as she realised.

    The King was wielding it▬the sword Merlin had told her a legendary tale of: a sword meant for Arthur. 

    Odette leaned forward, trying to search for Arthur▬she knew he would have never let his father do this; he would fight and he would crawl to make sure it was him that fought his fight. But he was nowhere to be seen.

    She caught Merlin race to the edge of the grounds and she sent him a confused glance that he caught easily. He shrugged, exasperated▬but also looking as if no matter how this battle will end today: it was something to be dreaded. 

    The King pulled his helmet over his head and readied the blade▬there was a collective hitch in the crowd as everyone held their breath. 

    With a surge of anger, the Black Knight attacked. 

    He flung himself at the King with fresh fury▬his mighty broadsword clashing against the golden gleam of Excalibur with a sound that cut through the air. It was a strike with such inhumane force, it was shatter the blade of a normal weapon. But this was no normal sword; it withstood the sheer power▬in fact, it seemed to embody it, the runes glowing a faint gold that no one noticed. 

    The King and his brother-in-law locked themselves into a deadly battle▬the same battle twenty-one years later. Maybe one could view it as punishment▬the King's past finally catching up to him. Odette found it a tragedy. Years ago, they fought after the death of the Queen; the beautiful and loved Ygraine▬a young, loving and kind woman who held the heart of two men that had been torn, shredded and changed the moment she drew her last breath. And that anger lived on. It brought back to life her brother who had only her on his mind in his dying wish▬and now a sorcerer has used that love to turn it into withering, wrathful hate who would have killed her only son if things went differently today. But now, instead of battling for in the grief of Ygraine's death, Uther Pendragon was battling for the survival of Arthur's life; the only living memory of the woman he loved. 

    Indeed, Odette felt a tragic sadness within the air. 

    And tragedy fuelled love as well as it fuelled anger. 

    The King skidded against the arena ground▬missing the Black Knight's blade by inches to his stomach. Morgana flinched in her seat. 

    Each time Excalibur made its mark against the Black Knight's own blade, there became a stagger in his step. There was this power within the sword's movement▬within its strike that shifted the air. It made Odette momentarily breathless; she felt it in her chest and in her blood. She felt uneasy as much as she felt in awe▬she knew that blade did not belong in the King's grip, and it withheld itself. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. And she wondered what Excalibur was truly capable in the hands of the man it was forged for. 

    The fight grew more vicious as it went along. Odette had begun to feel sick in her seat. She could tell Uther knew how this man fought, even dead▬and this dead man knew how the King fought. And soon, it was as if they were fighting the same▬they swung and they thrusted; their blades clashed together in remarkable feats. The King ducked an overhead arc that had the strength to take his head from his shoulders and brought the magical sword upwards to meet the Black Knight's downward swing. A shrill sound sang out as he dragged the hilts close together before he shoved the Wraith backwards and backhanded the helmet from his head. 

    The Black Knight staggered. He almost fell. Odette felt her heart race with anticipation as she waited for the Wraith to rise once more▬to see what lied behind the dark holes of the visor. 

    There was a growl▬a dark, animalistic growl that sounded far from human coming from where the Wraith doubled over. 

    Then he flung back around▬the crowd gasped; some screamed and yelled. Odette heard Ronyn curse and saw Guinevere clutch Morgana's arm. She was petrified in her place, terrified at the sight of a man with the face of decaying, rotten flesh; with eyes sunken and hollow▬and a scathing roar that sounded like claws dragging along stone, as if he was crawling out of his grave. 

    The Wraith surged forwards. The King barely managed to deflect the creature's strike. He staggered backwards. He desperately flung up his shield▬but he tripped. Ronyn rushed forwards, gripping the edge of the stands▬the entire crowd cried out as their King fell onto his back. Excalibur skidded out of his hand. 

    Morgana held onto Gwen's hand tight. She had to look away when the Wraith brought his blade down. The crowd gasped▬

    The Black Knight's sword struck through the edge of the King's shield▬it ran into its middle. But it stopped there, just a breath from Uther's nose. 

    The Wraith tugged. He tugged and he pulled. He let out a livid roar that made the hairs on everyone's necks stand on end. Uther pulled his arm away from the strap as the creature pulled once more▬and he tripped backwards. As the beast struggled, the King groped for Excalibur's handle. He rushed to his feet. He charged the beast that was once a man▬

    And with a cry, he ran Sir Tristan de Bois right through. 

    For a moment, nothing happened. For a moment, Odette feared that the Wraith would be immune to this blade like many before. She feared that the day would end just as the others had▬

    But then the wound of which the blade pierced started to smoke. It circled around Excalibur's edges until it burst out in a fierce explosion. The King pulled the blade back and hit the ground, scrambling away as he▬and everyone else▬watched the Wraith start to growl. He started to tremble▬then he started to convulse. He started to burn from within until he was enveloped into flames▬

    He burst. 

    Cries echoed out as the Wraith combusted into a shower of flames and tatters▬the only thing left on the ground ashes and his blood-stained, scarred sword. 

    What followed the cries were cheers. Screams of applause and victory all around▬people stamping their feet and sobbing in their terrified relief. But Merlin did not. He stood there, silent and solemn as the King threw Excalibur to the dirt▬a vicious gleam in his eye he did not trust. 

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    ODETTE WAS SURPRISED when Merlin found her washing Morgana's sheets in the kitchens to tell her, softly muttering that Arthur wanted to see her in his chambers. She knew she was going to find her way over there one way or another▬to knock on the servants' door on her own accord, but she never thought he'd ask for her to come. That he'd make Merlin set aside what he was doing to get her, and it made her brows furrow and her heart start to flutter. 

    She knew what it was about. She knew he was going to give her back her mother's clip. She knew he was going to vent about how it should have been him to go against the Wraith, but she still held nerves within her stomach as she slipped away from her errands to make her way back to the main hallways of the castle through winding, dark hallways. 

    The celebration of the King's win was still rampart▬it was easy to forget the horrors of the past three days when met with victory; to glorify it until the horrors were forgotten. Odette hadn't had any time to celebrate. After it all, she had to forget in order to continue her day; to continue her job. She had clothes and sheets to wash, dresses to mend, errands to grab and an outing with Morgana through the castle gardens. Her days never quite stopped long enough for her to think about anything that has happened. They only just gave her enough time to pray for the future. 

    But she was forced to make time in her day to come here▬and truthfully, Odette knew she always has and always will make room for a conversation with him; hidden behind closed doors and alcoves▬by windows and as she served him wine at feasts and dinners. 

    When she made it in front of a door that had become something frequent in the recent months, Odette knocked gently. She waited for an answer▬

    "Come in."

    Odette stepped inside and just like many times before, she found Arthur sitting in front of lengths of parchment. Signing this or scribing that. But this time, he immediately stood up to meet her as she approached him. She stopped, not expecting him to be in front of her so suddenly. 

    "Odette," he began▬until he realised. Arthur frowned. Then, he cleared his throat and stepped back, clenching his hands and giving her a polite nod. "Odette," he greeted her again. 

    She awkwardly ducked into a quick crusty in order to stop herself from getting stuck into a stare. "You wanted to see me?" Odette asked quietly, eyeing him out of the corner of her gaze, suddenly very unsure. 

    Arthur blinked, as if just remembering why she was here. "Yes," he stated. "Yes. Yes, I did." She watched him reach for something that was lying on the table before holding it out to her. 

    Odette's nerves fell away and she smiled, sweet to see her mother's clip. 

    "It is not how I planned on returning it to," then said the Prince, rolling his eyes a little to himself. "But▬I suppose I kept to my promise enough."

    She breathed a slight chuckle, "Yes," said the handmaiden. "You're returning it to me in person." She shrugged, "That is enough for me. That is what matters."

    Odette reached out gently to take it, "Thank you▬" she muttered but before she could touch it, Arthur jerked his hand backwards.

    She frowned and he flushed at the abrupt movement. But he quickly covered it up, gesturing to her with it in his hand, "Let me?"

    The young handmaiden stared at him, a little suspicious▬she tried to figure him out, wondering what the purpose of this was. "Why?" As soon as she questioned it, Arthur sighed, exasperated with her. "Do you know how to▬?"

    "I know how to put a clip▬" he gestured it to her again, "▬into a girl's hair. Now▬would you just stop questioning everything I say and turn around?"

    She hesitated, but she did as he said. She bit back a small smile when she heard the amusement amongst the frustration in Arthur's tone. "You're always so stern and serious," she joked as she did, "it is fun to annoy you."

    Arthur hid his chuckle as best as he could into an annoyed scoff, "Glad to know I am a childish game for your amusement, Odette," he told her sarcastically. 

    He did not know how much the word childish made her frown. She knew he did not mean it▬she knew he did not think of her as anything but the same little, annoying girl. She knew this, but still, it hurt her when she was only proven right. He grew up while she was still growing▬side by side for most of their childhood, she supposed it was safe to say that was all she will be. 

    And she hated it. She hated it, because when his fingers drew back her hair gently from her shoulders to let it fall down her back▬brushing her neck with the slightest of touches ... he did not know how her breath hitched. How her heart started to race, and how her eyes briefly fluttered closed, fighting every urge she held in order to not think about it. 

    Because it was childish. It was very childish▬a young handmaiden falling for a Prince; it was a fairytale that even she knew could never be real. But she started to realise as it was happening, that she couldn't help but fall for the story.

    Odette was growing flustered, but she kept still. She took a sharp breath through her nose, deciding to stare out of the window to distract herself as Arthur pulled some of her hair up and secured it with her mother's hairpiece. 

    She wondered whether he knew what he was doing. If he did, there was some part of her that hated him for it. It was unfair▬it was mean. Maybe he didn't. Maybe he didn't quite know why he was doing any of this▬but still, it hurt. 

    Once he was finished, Odette turned back around. She felt a bit strange to not have all of her hair twisted up off her face▬it was practical to do so, when all she spent her days doing was work. But she did not change it. She let her hair fall from the clip down her back and her shoulders. 

    Arthur held his hands up, soft as he joked, "See? I know how to use a hair clip. I'm not utterly hopeless as you all like to think."

    "Well," she forced herself to quip back, "you are of age, now▬I suppose a man should know how to dress himself ..." she trailed off, "... oh, forgive me, Merlin does that for you. Maybe you are rather hopeless?"

    The Prince made a face, "I'm hopeless but Merlin is not? What absurdity is that?"

    "He is not as hopeless as you think," Odette told him pointedly, but once she said it, it became good-natured. "He is very talented."

    "Yeah," Arthur muttered, "talented at not showing up for work."

    "He does a lot for you," said Odette as Arthur decided to take a seat again. She followed him, "I don't think you realise just how much. He would run into the fire for you Arthur if you asked▬even if you didn't."

    The Prince glanced up from his parchment as her words. She saw his brows start to furrow to hear how serious she was. Odette leaned against the table, not realise how inappropriate it was of her to be so casual around him. "You are lucky to have him around," she continued. "And not just because he polishes your armour. You will see just how much he does for you, sooner or later. And perhaps you might even give him a day off."

    Arthur then narrowed his eyes. He pointed his quill at her accusingly, "Did Merlin put you up to this? Because if so, you can tell him using others won't get him anything."

    "Two days off," grumbled Odette jokingly. "At least."

    "Hey," he put the feather of the quill under her nose. She stared at it, then him, incredulous. After a dramatic pause, Arthur set it down, "I'm the Prince. I'm the one that tells people what to do. I'll decide whether he gets a day off."

    Odette smiled. He didn't see it falter as she watched him return to his work▬he didn't even tell her to go. He didn't even realise, and she wasn't sure whether it was arrogance, or blissful ignorance. Maybe for once, Arthur was the naive one, not her. 

    She pursed her lips and muttered, "Is there anything else you want from me, Sire?"

    He frowned as he signed at the bottom of the parchment. "Sorry?" he muttered as he did. 

    "Is there anything you would like?" she asked again. "Food? Wine? Do you have clothes that need to be mended?"

    Arthur turned his frown onto her, "You wish to leave?"

    She stared back at him, growing frustrated. "W▬well, you asked me here."

    He was taken aback by her sudden change of tone. The Prince sat back in his chair to give her his full attention, "Can I not ask for your company? It is not so foreign? You used to overstay any welcome without thought when we were younger."

    "You returned my mother's hair clip."

    "Is that all you think I wanted from your company?"

    Odette frowned at him. He didn't realise. He did not realise▬maybe he did▬but either way, it hurt her. "Company?" she whispered, pained. "What company, sire? I cannot sit with you. I cannot eat with you. What if someone were to walk through that door right now? I am a servant. I have things to tend to▬I have Morgana's sheets to finish washing. I cannot stay in your company. So, I ask you, is there anything else, My Lord?"

    It dawned on him. Arthur's eyes turned sad▬and it seemed, for a moment, he forgot all that stood between them; wanted to forget. "Right," he muttered. "No, that is it. You may go."

    Odette bowed her head and spun on her heel, quick to leave. Once her back was turned, she closed her eyes and fought this sudden urge to cry. When she closed the door, gone, Arthur sighed to himself and let his head fall into his hands. He pulled away and pressed his hands together against his lips. He wanted to go after her, but he did not. He wanted her to stay▬for reasons he could not explain▬but he knew, she was right ... she could not. 

    But Arthur was going to find some other reason to talk to her, he was sure. To have her smile or quarrel with him. Something had changed in the few years they did not speak. Things have changed▬they have changed as much as they haven't. She once always chased after him. Arthur started to realise, recently, he had begun chase after her. 

    Right now, it was too complicated for him to understand why. To understand why the same little girl that he tried so hard to push away was also one on the verge of becoming a woman▬who he chided for being immature and reckless, and yet become enamoured by the way her hair matched the sunrise she so very much loved. He wanted to curse her innocence and naivety, and yet, missed it when it was gone; searched for it in a crowded room. 

    Too complicated to understand when she became beautiful. Or when she started to surprise him with wise words that left him jarred. Or when she started to made him so frustrated he wanted to just kiss her breathless until she forgot any word except his own name. 

    And he was conflicted; confused and annoyed. He was damned by her. He was damned by himself, because he didn't understand any of it, but he chased for it nonetheless. 

    And he started to realise just how dangerous it will become. 

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    a/n: medieval = mature.

    medieval romance should just be a condition of the mature tag on wattpad in general. 

    but then I realise like arthur and odette are like nothing because ppl are out here shipping an uncle with his fourteen-year-younger (or something) niece, so. 

    look, I explained ardette before I'm not gonna explain it again. 

    so onto the next thing. MERLIN FINISHED 10 YEARS AGO WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    omg no I'm not - I cannot comprehend that. I've watched this show as long as I've been on wattpad - literally 8 years! the show means so much to me. these characters mean so much to me. I love them I love them and now I'm crying. 

    10 YEARS!

     okay back to arthur and odette because I actually love them. I love writing the dynamic as well its interesting. like literally 'don't call me kid, don't call me baby'. like the transition between children with the age gap into young adults is super interesting because Arthur is like seeing two versions of her. like who is she? the kid he knew? or the woman odette is becoming? is she still the eleven year old that asked him to play dress ups as a teenager? 

     like Arthur likes the youthfulness to her nature as the same time as he likes how she starts to speak her mind. he sorta likes her nativity and innocence because it surrounds an unconditional belief in him - which he doesn't really have from anyone else. this dude has daddy issues and mummy issues. Odette's feelings literally grow from a nativity young girl he's-like-the-heros-in-the-stories whole thing. she literally followed him around. she tries to impress him. she tries to gain his attention. she wants arthur to think her worthy. she feels protected by him (lol abandonment issues) and always likes it when she notices he's taller than her, or that his hands are bigger, and likes the fact he's older because she's never had security in her life and he gives that to her.

     that's the reality of the dynamic because of their characters and their pasts/trauma/personalities. and it balances out because Arthur likes protecting her and her innocence and she likes receiving the security of it. and then as they mature and things happen, the basis of their dynamic stays but you start to add other stuff into it, they start to love each other for what they bring to the world and their mutual beliefs and idea of duty. Arthur loves Camelot - odette starts to not only share that love (she has from the beginning) but also starts to embody it. she symbolises camelot. 

     I said I wouldn't explain them again but here we are. 

    look I'm just saying we all like different things about ppl cos of our experiences. my characters relationships have always been based off that, but arthur and odette are the only ones that I'm literally making it not as subtle because its sorta fun to explore.

    like don't get me started on gwen and ronyn and the shit to unravel there - like the caretaker/fear of not being loved dynamic is super strong there. like I could expose half of my characters - adelynn and merlin? are u really ready to hear the gos behind that one? 

    lol just ask I will tell u I love talking about my characters/other ppls characters i just adopt and the reasons why they do things.