Merlyn's Only Hope

Le Morte d'Arthur P1

Merlyn was beginning to get sick of Arthur's stupid hunting trips. He'd brought far more knights than were necessary; most of them were, to put it delicately, pricks. She'd trained with them, and many of the idiots Arthur surrounded himself with were the kind of nobles that looked down upon their people simply because of their status, no matter how many times she flip them onto their pompous backsides. Safe to say, Merlyn would rather be battling a griffin in that moment than talk to some of the arrogant knights stumbling clumsily by her side.

"Merlyn, spear." Arthur ordered, grabbing the weapon from her hand. They'd heard a rustling in the trees and, after a rather unsuccessful hunt, she was hardly shocked with the prince's rude behaviour.

"Do you have any natural gifts Merlyn?" he sighed, watching her as she battled a rogue tree. She hadn't had time to braid her hair; loose strands were continuously catching themselves in the low branches, much to Arthur's annoyance.

She was going to take the opportunity to be coy, but decided against it when she remembered her snobbish company. "Let me think," she smirked, careful not to meet the prince's gaze. "I'm not naturally rude or insensitive."

"Just naturally irritating." he huffed, moving forward with his spear focused just beyond the trees.

Merlyn grinned, sticking her foot out so that Arthur fell flat on his face. He scrabbled back to his feet fairly quickly, mud covering his features, and glared back at his servant. She blinked innocently, trying to keep a straight face. There was a sharp intake of breath from the knights around her, the sound of a dozen noblemen enraged by her petulance. How dare a measly peasant make a fool out of royalty? It was a shame really, the look on Arthur's face was priceless; only a few chuckles escaped the angry crowd. Next time the prince dragged her on a hunt, she decided, she would choose the company. There were many nobles who blurred the line between knights and servants, men who understood true honour, men, who when faced with a pouting Arthur caked head to foot in mud, would laugh.

The prince opened his mouth, probably about to insult her further or spit a mouthful of soil onto the ground, when an animalistic growl broke through the quiet clearing. It startled the servant, who stopped her giggles abruptly, listening intently to her surroundings.

"It's probably more scared of you than you are of it." Arthur teased, ignoring Merlyn's skeptical look. He motioned for his knights to split up in different directions, only for the beast to launch itself into view, its large fangs getting far too close to the group.

Weapons were abandoned on the ground as red cloaks billowed, the knights running for their lives, scattering away from the creature. Merlyn cast silent spells, her eyes flashing gold as trees fell in front of the beast, halting it for a moment. Unfortunately, it took up a large portion of her concentration; before she could focus, her foot slid under a tree root, causing her to topple over, falling right in the path of the creature.

She scrambled backwards, away from the monster as it reared on its hind legs, only to be wrenched to her feet by Arthur and Sir Bedivere, one of the more cheerful nobles. She'd fought him a number of times, and had often told Arthur, much to his displeasure, that the man was a natural swordsman, almost as good as the prince himself. Slightly disorientated, she followed Arthur through the trees, only stopping when the roars of the creature could no longer be heard through the shrubbery.

"Have we lost it?" she panted, looking around for any sign of scales.

"Who's missing?" The prince asked, following Merlyn's movements as he counted his knights. A horrible thought struck the servant as she spun around, one head missing among the number.

"Sir Bedivere." she muttered, her realisation punctuated by loud screams coming from somewhere far off in the forest.

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