Title: A Prince’s Journey
Film prompt: A Knight’s Tale
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin, (slight) Lancelot/Gwen
Rating: PG-13 (not what I thought it would be, but there you go)
Warnings: Um, not much, maybe fluff? Jousting and sword play. AU.
Chapter 4
Damaged Armour
“It was a mistake to compete in two events,” Arthur said, looking at his damaged armour.
After fighting and jousting for two days, his armour had taken quite the beating, a large crack in his breast plate, something that he couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, or how, but he had to get it repaired before he went in the ring again.
“The swords what you’re best at,” Leon reminded him, frowning at the damage, as if the look alone could fix it.
“But the prestige is bigger in the jousting,” Arthur replied. “The prizes too.”
“And now we have to try and get the armour repaired without paying for it now,” Lance added, as they walked out of the third blacksmith they’d tried, and been turned away from, today.
“You might try the ferris,” the fourth blacksmith said, pointing over to a dark-haired, dark skinned girl.
“A woman?” Arthur asked.
“Beggars can’t be choosers, my Lord,” Lance said, already walking over to where the woman was working, a gleam in his eyes.
“I don’t work for free,” the woman said, even before they’d reached her.
“And I can’t joust in broken armour,” Arthur replied, glaring at her as she continued to work, not even looking at them.
“That’s your problem, not mine,” the woman said, pushing a stray curl out of her eyes.
“Just as well,” Arthur said, shrugging, winking at Leon. “They told me I was daft for asking.”
“Why?” the woman asked, turning to glare at him. “Did they say I couldn’t do it because I’m a woman?”
Arthur suppressed the smirk that wanted to come to his face, sure that he had reeled the woman in.
“No,” Arthur said, shrugging. “They said you were good with horseshoes, but shite with armour. In fact they didn’t even mention the part about you being a woman.”
The woman walked forwards, grabbing his armour, a determined look on her face.
It took little time for the woman to fix the armour. Arthur was surprised at how well she had done, sure that no other blacksmith could do better. When he commented on how well she had done, the woman had simply reminded him that payment would be due once the tournament was drawing to a close.
Walking towards the jousting arena, he growled as he ran into someone, stumbling back, before he realized who it was.
“Gaius,” Arthur said, gripping the man’s upper arm’s lightly. “I had wondered where you’d gone to.”
“I’ve been around, my boy,” the old man said. “Just visiting an old friend.”
Stopping at the point of entry to the arena, Arthur froze when his eyes fell on a familiar pale face, his heart starting to race as he realized the man he had seen had come to watch. Pieces clicking in place as he realized the man must be a noble, to be sitting where he was.
“Something wrong, my lord?” Gaius asked, small smile on his face.
“Someone I … met earlier,” Arthur responded, eyes not leaving the man, narrowing as he saw another knight approach him and his Lady friend.
“Concentrate,” Leon said, coming up to him with the horse.
Looking at the stand and seeing the knight sit down, Arthur came to a decision. He would find out the man’s name, now, and then he would win in front of him.
“Once,” Gaius said, a knowing look in his eyes. “When I was trying to woo a young lady …”
He trailed off as he leaned in to whisper to Arthur, the young knight’s smile widening as he heard the old man’s words.
**
Sitting next to Morgana, Merlin ignored the knights that said that they would win the tournament for her or him, having grown used to it over the past few years. He learnt that if you just smiled and nodded, most people were happy.
Morgana’s approach to her suitors, was to look completely unimpressed, a look that could stop even the King in his tracks, a look he knew he would never get close to being able to give.
“My Lord and Lady,” a squire said, bowing next to them. “May I present Sir Valiant, winner of the joust in Germain and high champion at Marion.”
Turning, Merlin watched the knight approach, a pit forming in his stomach, hoping that the knight was here to woo Morgana, his hopes quickly dashed as the man stared directly at him.
“May all thoughts be forgotten, when faced with such beauty,” Valiant said, bowing, but maintaining eye contact the entire time.
Shifting a little uncomfortably, Merlin gave him a small smile, before turning and looking over the crowd.
“Do you only pretend to fight, Sir Valiant?” he asked, his tone merely polite. “Or do you wage real war as well?”
Turning, he saw something flash through Valiant’s eyes, something that he hoped would be gone by the end of the day.
“I am one of the King’s knight’s,” Valiant said, leaning back against one of the railings, eyes running over Merlin obviously. “I fight when my King needs me.”
Nodding, Merlin leant back, making a mental note to ask Balinor about the man.
“What do you think of the joust?” Valiant asked, sitting down next to him, closer then Merlin would’ve liked.
“Your name, my lord,” a voice broke in and Merlin couldn’t stop the bashful smile that crossed his face, as he looked into the face of the knight who had followed him and Morgana a few days prior.
He looked even more beautiful now, eyes shining with excitement, hair tousled and a smile on his face.
“I still need to hear it,” the knight continued, sitting on his horse as if he was sitting on a throne.
“You still persist?” Merlin asked, leaning forward, feeling the amusement that was coming from Morgana and the anger that was coming from Valiant.
“But then again,” the knight said, bowing his head a little. “Perhaps angels have no names. Only beautiful faces.”
Merlin felt his breath catch, never having anyone call him beautiful in the way the man had, nothing but honest truth and want coming from him.
“And you are?” Valiant snarled, anger clear in his tone.
“I’m ah,” the knight said, a dazed look on his face.
“Have you forgotten?” Valiant sneered. “Or is your name Sir Ah?”
“Arthur,” the knight said. “Penn from Albion.”
“Some of these poor country knights, little better then peasants,” Valiant said, not lowering his voice, arm reaching out to rest behind Merlin’s chair.
Merlin felt angry for the golden knight in front of him, Arthur, whose face had gone from happy and flirting to hurt and then blank. Moving his horse, Arthur rode away. Merlin watching him go with sadness.
Next to him, Merlin could feel Morgana ready to move, to strike out at the man who had been so intentionally cruel. Clasping her hand, he gave it a squeeze, knowing that they could not get into it now. Not with the knight they had actually come to see, Sir William Dragon, ready to joust against Arthur.
As the flag fell indicating for the jousting to begin, Merlin leaned forward in his seat, ignoring the knight sitting next to him and talking. He winced as the lances both hit the knights. His eyes following Sir William, noticing the way he flinched, the way he sat stiffly.
“He’s hurt,” he heard Morgana mutter quietly to him.
Nodding, his eyes followed the knight, waiting for him to withdraw, to stop, already knowing the man was far too stubborn and pig-headed to do that, his thoughts confirmed as the two knights jousted again.
He flinched as they both hit each other again, a worry going through him for Arthur, as he watched the golden knight ride past, before returning to the other knight.
“What is he doing?” Morgana hissed, her hand tightening on his.
“This Sir William,” the squire said, cutting in to Morgana’s curses towards the knight. “His technique is perfect.”
“And I’ve never seen him before,” Valiant said, eyes narrowing as he sat forward.
“But Sir Arthur,” the squire continued. “While he’s style is somewhat lacking, he’s absolutely fearless.”
“Fearless, how?” Merlin asked, wondering how only one of the knight’s was fearless, considering both men were partaking in a sport that had both men getting hit by lances.
“The slit in a helmet’s visor is narrow,” Valiant said, leaning back, his arm once again across the back of Merlin’s chair, “but splinters can penetrate it. Most knights lift their head at the last moment, it means you lose sight of your opponent, but protects your eyes. This Arthur doesn’t.”
“He keeps his eye on the target,” Morgana said, grinning at him. “A true hunter.”
Merlin let his eyes wander over to where Arthur was riding into the middle of the arena to talk to Sir William, his heart beating a little faster as Arthur lifted his helmet, his face almost glowing.
“I wonder what they were talking about,” Morgana said, her hand gripping Merlin’s tightly again as the flag went up again, both knights simply trotting towards the centre, both pulling their lances up.
“A draw,” Valiant’s squire said. “And Dragon is hurt.”
“Dragon withdraws,” Valiant said, disgust in his voice. “Penn advances. Why didn’t Penn finish him?”
“He shows mercy,” Merlin said, eyes not leaving Arthur as the man dismounted.
“Then he shows his weakness, for that is all mercy is,” Valiant said, the disgust still in his voice.
Rolling his eyes, Merlin stood as Morgana did.
“Sir Valiant,” Morgana said, dismissing the knight, and pulling Merlin along with her.
“My Lord,” Valiant said, following them.
Turning, Merlin could feel Morgana’s irritation but he couldn’t be rude to the man, even if he didn’t like him.
“I will win this tournament for you,” he said, bowing low.
Merlin gave a small smile, a slight nod of his head, before he turned and walked away.
“You know I despise when they say that,” Morgana said. “They win these tournaments for themselves and their own honour, it means nothing when they say they will win it for either one of us.”
“Mmm,” Merlin hummed in agreement.
“Although,” Morgana started slyly, and he could see her looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “I wonder if you would like a certain knight to win for you. A certain knight with golden hair and blue eyes …”
“No,” Merlin denied, trying not to let the blush rise to his face as Morgana simply laughed, patting him on the cheek.
“Let’s go check on the fool,” she said, seemingly having had enough of teasing him.
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