Merlyn's Only Hope

The Gates of Avalon P1

Merlyn didn't particularly enjoy hunting, especially when it wasn't necessary. There was no reason to kill the innocent animals when, in the castle, there was enough food to feed the whole of Camelot at least ten times over. Despite this, Arthur seemed to enjoy the sport, as if he had gained something from murdering small, defenceless creatures.

So obviously, as the prince aimed his crossbow at a deer, she thought it her duty to "accidentally" run into him, causing the bolt to fly into a nearby tree, sending the animal skittering away.

What a shame.

"You really are a total buffoon aren't you Merlyn." Arthur spoke through gritted teeth, probably fighting the urge to send a bolt through her leg.
"We are hunting. It requires speed, strength and an agile mind."

"So you're able to get by on two of the three then?" she smirked, honestly feeling a little proud of herself. Ever since they'd chosen to ignore any feelings they'd had for one another, they'd returned to insults. Not that she particularly minded: it was fun.

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, probably to say something incredibly intelligent, or to just tell her to shut up, but before he could, a scream echoed through the clearing.

"What was that?" Arthur tensed, unsheathing his sword. Another scream rang through the trees; this time, it was followed by a call for help. Naturally, Arthur couldn't let the shrieks go unanswered. He ran towards the sound, determined to be the hero. Merlyn sighed, knowing that she had no choice but to chase after him. If he was going to unnecessarily risk his life, she certainly wouldn't let him get all the glory.

∆

It was bandits. Arthur shot one, causing the man to tumble to the ground. There were five left, all of whom ignored her, despite her fighting leathers. Used to being underestimated, she unsheathed her own sword, easily killing the two men whose backs were turned, leaving three for the prince. He fought bravely, easily sending one of them to the ground, expertly dodging their blades. Unfortunately, as he turned to face the remaining two, his attention was diverted from the fallen man, who was only temporarily winded. She knew that she needed to act fast; she glanced upwards at a rotten branch, grinning as a thought struck her.

"Forbærne firgenholt."

Her eyes flashing gold for a fraction of a second. The branch came crashing down, crushing the stray bandit, just as Arthur plunged his sword into the last man.

He looked at the broken branch, stunned.

"Stroke of luck." he mumbled, causing Merlyn to roll her eyes. If she wore a pointy hat, Arthur wouldn't see who she truly was.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" he asked the two figures they'd saved, his eyes trained on the, rather beautiful, young woman. She travelled with an older man, presumably her father, both wearing fine clothes. The strange girl removed her hood, allowing her saviours to see the golden locks hidden underneath, the colour contrasting deeply with her green eyes.

"I am Sophia; this is my father." she smiled oddly smuggly, her gaze focused on the prince.

"Arthur Pendragon." the older man nodded in acknowledgement.

"At your service." the prince bent to kiss Sophia's hand. Merlyn barely kept herself from snorting, finding the situation genuinely hilarious. Sophia blushed faintly, fluttering her eyelashes prettily. It didn't take long for Arthur to invite both of them back to Camelot, engaging in polite conversation along the way.

∆

"My name if Aulfric, heir to Tirmaw." The two outsiders stood in front of the king, having persuaded the prince to ask for an audience. "And this is my daughter, Sophia."