20 year old Ariella Morgenstern lost her mother to an evil sorcerer when she was just seven years old, and has had some pain in her heart since, though her father, King Oberon, hates magic, but not nearly as much as King Uther, because of it. Ever s...
The next morning, I stand next to my husband in the war tent as Arthur tells everyone about the new plan of attack, which is single combat between our champion and Annis's.
"But, Sire, we can win this battle!" Leon says insistently. "I know we can!"
"I don't doubt it, but at what cost? How many men will be slaughtered?" Arthur queries.
Elyan questions, "And what if we were to lose this trial? We can't give up our land!"
"That's the deal I've struck," Arthur says simply. "I believe it to be fair. They'll stand by."
"Will they?" Agravaine asks.
I state, "All that remains My Lord, is for you to choose your champion."
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"It will be a privilege, Sire," Percival says as he steps forward, followed by Elyan and the others.
"Sire!"
"There can be only one choice," Arthur reminds them. "One choice which is just and honourable." A pause. "This fight's mine."
This causes the knights to step back in acceptance as I exchange weary glances with Merlin.
Though, I suppose, knowing Arthur for as long as I have, I should've seen this coming.
As I lie in bed with my husband that night, his arms around me and my head on his chest, Merlin asks me, "You're not planning on sneaking out on me again, are you?"
I chuckle as I reply, "No, my love. Not tonight."
"I'm glad. I don't want you to go anywhere," Merlin says, tightening his arms around me.
"I don't plan on leaving you, my love," I murmur back, as he runs his fingers through my hair soothingly.
I soon drift off to sleep to the feel of Merlin running his fingers through my white blonde hair.
🗡🗡🗡
The next afternoon, I head into Arthur's tent, donning my armor with my red cape, weapons at my side and my hair tied back into a braid, to let the King know it's time for combat to commence.
I walk in just in time to see the young King standing in front of Merlin, grasping his forearm as though in the middle of a shake. Both males look up at me as I announce, "It is time."
"Very well," Arthur says as he releases Merlin's forearm and averts his gaze.
I ask, "Is all in readiness?"
"Merlin?" Arthur looks to his servant questioningly.
"Ready," The ravenette responds.
Arthur turns to his sword, sitting on the table next to him, and unsheathes the blade. He flips it over as he studies it before turning to leave the tent.
