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‘I raise you a bet, King Arthur.’ The bandit remarked, leaving Guinevere’s side to walk across to where Arthur was tied to the tree. His sword lay abandoned, somewhere in the clearing where they’d been ambushed, and Merlin regretted not using his Magic sooner. It had been a mistake, especially considering Arthur had been so accepting of Morgana’s Magic. They could use the Witch’s help, right about now.
‘I’m listening.’ Arthur shot back. Had Guinevere been safe in Camelot, Arthur would never have negotiated with a bandit. As it was, the Queen was kneeling in the dirt, a sword pressed to the back of her neck. Her eyes were focused on Arthur, whereas Merlin was too busy looking at the Knights. They looked a little bedraggled, hair a mess (for those who had hair) and armour only half-on.
‘One of your group, to fight one of mine. If you win, you can take your Queen back to Camelot, with no repercussions.’ That was a lie, Merlin could tell, but he stayed quiet. The last thing he needed to do was draw attention to himself, especially when he was trying to work out a way to use his Magic to get himself out of this situation.
‘If you win?’ Arthur questioned, the lead bandit smirking as he looked over his shoulder at Gwen.
‘The Queen’s ours. And we sell you for a pretty penny.’ The sword at Gwen’s neck nudged in slightly, enough so that she gasped. Elyan growled out from behind the gag in his mouth, no doubt would be hurling profanities if he had the chance.
‘Deal.’ Arthur’s word came so quickly, that Merlin had to roll his eyes. Bloody arrogance. Elyan was now glaring at Arthur, even Guinevere looked shocked.
‘Your word, King Arthur?’
‘You have it. You have my word, one of my men, facing one of yours.’ Arthur had this entire concept in his head, that his Knights were the very best in all of Albion. Which Merlin agreed with, they were terrific fighters. Incredible, agile, and Merlin knew they could best anybody that stood in their way. Unfortunately, Arthur hadn't thought too hard about the words that were stated.
‘You seem confident.’ The bandit leader joked, eyeing Arthur up with a smirk.
‘My Knights are the very best in all of Albion.’ Arthur bragged. Honestly, he was a clotpole sometimes, and Merlin was going to take great joy in telling him that once he was back in Camelot. If they made it that far.
Whose idea had this Hunting trip been? And why the Goddess did Arthur choose to bring Guinevere along?
He’d personally tell Arthur he was a dollophead, and all varieties of the word, once they were free from this situation.
‘True. But,’ He replaced Arthur’s gag roughly, ‘I said one of your men. Not one of your Knights.’ The leader turned to look at Merlin, who offered what he hoped was his best grin. Arthur was making some awful sounds from behind the gag, eyes wide as he realised his mistake.
The gag was removed from Merlin’s mouth, the ropes released enough for him to untangle himself. He stepped forward, ignoring Arthur’s gaze entirely.
‘Well, boy? What do you say?’ Was it an option? Merlin looked from the leader, to Guinevere, then back again.
‘It would be an honour to fight for my Queen.’ That earned a round of laughter from the bandits, the Leader gesturing for Merlin to pick up one of the many swords that had fallen. He eyed up Excalibur, approaching her carefully.
She responded, as usual, to his touch. The faintest warmth, a hum under his skin that told him that she understood the price of failure. He stumbled under her weight, made a show of struggling to wield the blade up.
‘This shouldn’t last long. Afron!’ Said-warrior stepped forward, and Merlin heard the Knights begin to struggle.
Afron was larger than Percival. Which was difficult, Merlin could barely see around Percival’s arm muscles, but this man was built like a tree. Merlin had once been carried by Percival, during a very difficult quest that he hadn't been paying proper attention on.
‘Well, that seems a little unfair.’ Merlin provided, figuring he should make up for the lack of Gwaine’s commentary. He spent more than enough time with the Knight to pick up on his jokes and style.
Tree-man didn’t waste a lot of time talking. The first swing caught Merlin unaware, and he stumbled back, almost dropping Excalibur. The sword stilled under his touch, and Merlin moved out of the way of the second swing.
The thing was, Merlin attended every training class. He was there at the crack of dawn, through rain and sleet and the most horrible of weathers. Merlin pretended to polish armour every day, while watching the Knights train.
He could tell you anything about the way they fought. How Percival used his size to his advantage. How Elyan used quick-placed blows to lower the confidence of those he attacked. Gwaine’s sword-trick to flip the sword, Lancelot’s stamina-approach. Leon’s smooth training, the fact it was difficult to beat him when it came to tactics.
Arthur’s moves were the ones he knew the best, could practically see them if he shut his eyes.
It didn’t mean he could replicate them. Not without a little assistance, which was why he picked Excalibur. Logically, he should have gone for a lighter sword. For one that better suited his balance, like Lancelot’s.
A little touch of Magic, shutting his eyes so that they didn’t see the golden flair. Morgana had told him that it became obvious, when he used Magic to aid his fighting. She’d been joining him for sparring lessons for months, the two of them determined to be able to protect the King.
He blocked the next blow. Opened his eyes, looked up to the man staring down at him in shock.
Opening on the left. Feint right, bring the sword up to defend. Parry the next blow, a half-step forward on the right foot. Duck, both hands on the sword to stop the second attack. Aim the sword towards the shoulder, avoid the weight of the opponent. Another half-step, swing around to the left, and lunge.
Merlin threw his weight behind Excalibur’s blow, drove both their swords up, then round and disarmed the man with Gwaine’s trick. Aiming for the man’s knees, he mocked a blow, enough to unbalance the giant before using the pommel to hit his shoulder.
The giant went down, and Merlin rested the sword to the juncture of the collarbone.
Silence. Merlin rose his head, looked to the Leader of the bandits calmly.
‘How… How did you do that?’ He questioned, looking genuinely confused. Merlin shrugged, stepped back and took Excalibur with him.
‘I’m the manservant of the King. You really think I don’t know how to wield a sword?’ He looked to Guinevere, who was smiling up at him with such… trust. Love. He knew things hadn't always been easy between them, with the distrust that came with Morgana’s admittance of Magic. But now she smiled warmly at him, and he smiled back.
‘Huh. Would you look at that…’ The Leader started, then smirked.
‘Kill the Queen. Take the others.’ Like Merlin hadn't expected that.
‘Gwen!’ Later, he’d apologise for not calling her by her title. He threw Excalibur, knowing she’d be caught by the Once and Future Queen, then stretched his hand out.
Not quite how he wanted to admit to Magic, but it was better than Gwen dying. The man behind her went flying back, in time for Gwen to catch the sword and swing it at the rapidly approaching bandit. Merlin turned his attention back to the Leader, who held a hand up to halt his men.
The Queen came to his side, trusting despite the fact he’d just used Magic. She stood, hands clasped around the sword, chest heaving and eyes focused on the man in front.
‘A pet sorcerer. I wonder… how many tricks can you do?’ The man sneered, Merlin turning his gaze to Arthur’s sword for long enough to awaken the Magic within it. Fire, Dragon’s breath, raced down the blade, Gwen unflinching at the display of Magic.
‘Try me, and find out.’ He dared, waiting for the man to make his decision.
‘There’s fifteen of us.’ The Leader pointed out, gesturing around the clearing.
‘I could do that without blinking.’ Merlin admitted.
For a moment, it was a stalemate of who was willing to trust. Merlin waited patiently, with his Queen by his side, for the Leader to make a decision.
‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to call your bluff.’ The man finally stated, raising his sword and taking a step forward. Gwen got ready to defend him, but Merlin didn’t need her assistance. One look to the men, and the group dropped down to the ground.
‘You really didn’t have to blink.’ Gwen remarked, staring around at the people. Merlin looked across to her, then back to the men.
‘I didn’t want to risk him hurting you, my Lady.’ Gwen huffed, but there was a fond smile tugging at her lips as she turned to go to Elyan. Merlin went to Lancelot first, figuring he was the one that wouldn’t have an issue. Sure enough, the Knight just clapped him on the shoulder. Gwaine was next, and even though Merlin had never told him, he figured that Gwaine knew. The man ruffled his hair, praised his swordsmanship skills, then let Merlin move to Percival.
Gwen untied Arthur next, while Merlin untied Leon.
Eventually, he had to look to Arthur. The King was staring at him, so Merlin stared back, patiently waiting for whatever verdict would come.
‘Back to Camelot.’ Arthur commanded the group, including Merlin in that speech, and so he could only conclude that Arthur would wait to give his decision.
‘And you’re going to explain when you learned to wield a sword like that.’ Arthur grumbled, walking past Merlin with just the hint of a smile on his face.
Merlin almost dropped, the weight of fear being lifted so quickly with just one sentence.
‘Of course, Sire.’ He joked, falling in step behind him.