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Master Ambrosia is going over a complex potion with Arthur and Emry when a servant comes into the room and whispers to him privately. He looks a bit startled but hides it well. He turns to his students.
“I have some personal business to attend to. Nothing dire, but it needs my immediate attention. I trust you two can brew this potion without destroying anything?” The stern look screams ‘if you ruin my study there will be hell to pay.’
“Yes, Sir.” Arthur and Emry both say. The harsh look falls before their teacher leaves the room with the servant.
“I can’t believe he can’t trust us to do a simple potion.” Emry says.
“Simple? Master Ambrosia said it was complex. He literally just explained the multiple steps.” Arthur explains.
“Simple? Easy? Same difference,”Emry replies a bit arrogantly.
“A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“Master Ambrosia, on multiple occasions, has given me a magical task he deems almost impossible, then I do it after little to no practice. I think I can handle a potion.”
“Potions and magic are different though.”
“You think you can do better?”
“Considering I’ve been studying potions and herbs with Master Ambrosia since I was 8, yes. I think I can manage.”
“A bet then.”
“What?”
“Whoever’s potion turns out the best, judged by Master Ambrosia when he gets back tomorrow, owes the other something.”
“I’m about to become the King of Camelot. My cloak costs more than your earnings for a month.”
“That’s why we’re not betting money.”
“I’m listening,”
“A favor, whatever the winner wants, as long as it doesn’t cross any sort of morals or personal boundaries.”
“Deal. I can’t wait to claim my prize.”
“Nor can I.” They shake on it. They work in silence studying the book in front of them, cutting up or pouring in various ingredients for the potion often looking at the other competitively or talking smack. After completing the potion, they both smirk putting their completed potions on Master Ambrosia’s desk, the pair of them very confident in their work.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be strolling the through the town pondering what your favor to me should be,” says Emry.
“Glad to hear it. It’ll make my victory that much more satisfying. Perhaps Lance and I should trade ideas of what your favorite to me should be during training.”
“Oh please, Lance is usually on my side, as is Guin and all your other friends. Honestly, they like me better and they’ve only known me for a year.”
“It’s a shame.”
“What is?”
“That all my friends apparently have poor taste.”
“I’ll make sure to tell them you said that without context so they’re definitely on my side.” Emry grins at Arthur rolling his eyes before they go their separate ways.
During her stroll, Emry runs into Princess Guinevere.
“Hello, Emry.”
“Hi, Guin.”
“I have awful news.” That gets Emry’s attention. Was this about the King? Her looming marriage to Arthur? Morgana? No, it couldn’t be the last one. She wouldn’t know much about her, if anything. Emry’s just being paranoid, as usual.
“What’s wrong?” Emry says in with concern.
“Lady Elaine and my father are forcing me to a fancy gathering with dinner and dancing.”
“Oh yeah, I think I remember Arthur telling me about that and dreading it. Good thing wizard apprentices don’t have to be there.” She says with a laugh,
“Oh, you must come! I don’t want to be in there with all these stuffy lords and ladies with the only refuge being Arthur and Lance. I need another woman there who’s not awful. Plenty of fun without the testosterone.” Emry laughs.
“I suppose to support a friend. I’m
surprised Lance is even invited to such an event. The King practically hates him. The King also practically hates me, are you sure I can even come?”
“Arthur dragged Lance to come and practically told his father he was coming. I can do the same. You’ll be my guest. If he has a problem, he can be upset with me. Perhaps he’ll be so upset, he won’t want me to marry his son. One can only hope.” This remark surprises Emry. She knew they weren’t particularly fond of marrying one another for various reasons, but since they didn’t have a choice in the matter, she thought they would at least try to warm up to the idea. She can’t help but feel happy that this might not be the case. Regardless, she shouldn’t focus on such things since they are still getting married.
“But I don’t know how to dance.” Emry says changing the subject having a sudden need to get out of what she had just agreed to. She didn’t want to see them together and hear their engagement constantly being talked about. It was mentioned enough as it is.
“Ask Arthur to teach you. He’s a marvelous dancer, which, trust me, I was surprised to find out.” Emry thinks it over. She knew it was a bad idea, but couldn’t help but revel in the thought of being in Arthur’s arms again and having a decent excuse to do so.
“He does owe me a favor, or rather, he will.”
“What do you mean?”
“We made a bet. Whoever does the best at Master Ambrosia’s latest potion assignment owes the other a favor of their choice.”
“That sounds dangerous. Arthur and Lance have wild imaginations and you know he’s going to ask Lance.”
“Oh I know. But it doesn’t matter if I’m the one winning.”
Meanwhile, Arthur and Lance are indeed swapping ideas.
“What about having her break into Master Ambrosia’s study and take a useful potion?” Lance says.
“No! if she’s caught, who knows if my father will banish her or not. I swear, the man’s looking for a reason to send her away.”
“It’s not like I can’t relate. Your father feels the same about me.” Lance then smirks before continuing, “It seems you have a soft spot for the wizard.”
“Lance, we’ve been over this, I’m engaged to Guinevere.”
“Against your will by a man who is on his deathbed. I know it’s not a pleasant thought, and I’m here for you with anything that you need, but the reality of the situation means that you will have the freedom to rule as you see fit, to have a female court sorcerer, to marry for love and not political gain.”
“And what if it blows up in my face because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and I’ve thrown everything my father had in place in the trash?!”
“Listen, I know you don’t feel ready, and I know you feel like you have to lead the kingdom like he would to honor his memory, but both of us know you have a better heart than to force a woman to marry you, or to force yourself to marry her. And that good heart is what’s gonna reunite all of England. It’s that good heart that will make this kingdom great. And I know Emry feels the same exact way.”
The next day, Master Ambrosia looks over their potions while they are practically bouncing in their seats over who would win the bet. He then declares that they both did well, but the consistency in Emry’s was better.
“YES!” Emry yells. Master Ambrosia gives her a strange look before Emry blushes, clearing her throat. “I mean, I’m glad we both did well.”
“I do not want to know the details of your excitement. I simply wish to never experience it again.” Arthur snickered. They continue their assignments with more composure and learn various tips on how to enhance the potion’s longevity and effectiveness as well as some basics on the next potion they were learning. After the lesson is finished and they all get up to leave, Emry wears a big smirk on her face.
“Don’t say it,” Arthur says.
“Who me? I wasn’t going to say anything about that. I was simply going to inform you of your new task,” Emry replies. Arthur groans. “You’re going to teach me how to dance,”
“I don’t even know how to dance,” Arthur lies.
“Bullshit. Guin says you’re amazing at it. She’s forcing me to go to this ball so you’re teaching me.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m apparently the only female in this goddess-forsaken palace who actually has a personality.” Arthur laughs.
“She’s got that right. So do you know how to dance at all or are you a lost cause?”
“I’ve barely ever danced.”
“And you’re clumsy, so I suppose you belong in the latter category.”
“I’m torn,”
“What?”
“On the one hand, I get the favor that I won fair and square. But on the other hand, you get to spend tons of time will me while I have to endure far too much time with you. You obviously have the better deal here.”
“Very funny.”
“What can I say, I’m a walking comedian,”
“More like a walking joke.”
“You’re just jealous I won.” They walk in a companionable silence for a bit before Emry speaks up again, “Well, you’ve got two weeks to make me the best dancer in Camelot. We’d better set times to practice.”
“Well, starting in about 5 minutes, my schedule is packed. Are you sure you don’t want Guinevere herself to teach you?”
“Hello? I’m not pretending to be male anymore. I have to learn the girl’s part.”
“Fine, meet me in the stables every 3 days, and the day before the event at 10pm after the servants have all finished up there for the night. If we hear footsteps at any point, I’ll hide behind something and you pretend to be practicing a spell that examines the health of the animals to be more useful in the kingdom.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a good or stupid idea, but we’ve had worse ones, so agreed. Starting tonight?”
“Starting tonight.” They go their separate ways.
For the next week, they meet to practice without any complications. Emry, though not an awful student, isn’t a particularly fast learner. She has stepped on Arthur’s feet multiple times in the first two lessons. However, on the Wednesday before the ball, this is not the case. Emry has come a long way.
“Remember, you’re to look at your partner, not your feet.” Arthur says.
“Yeah, but that means that I must look at you and obviously that’s not ideal.” Arthur rolls his eyes as Emry giggles.
“I do recall you staring at my face on numerous occasions, so perhaps it’s more ideal than you’re letting on.” Emry blushes. She knew he was right, but she can’t let him know that. Then again, there’s a look in his eye that makes her want to do something very stupid.
“Projecting are we Mr.Jaw dropped the first time you saw me in a dress?” Now it’s Arthur’s turn to blush.
“How was I to be prepared for such beauty?”
“A fancy dress really do that much for you?”
“Not the dress.” We stare into each other’s eyes. We’ve been in this position before, almost always resulting in a kiss. If I could just lean in an inch…
“I-“
“Shhh, someone’s coming,” Arthur immediately hides in the hay. I use a spell to move more hay on top of him, but my magic backfires as it’s been doing recently bringing chaos to a simple levitation spell. Though it thoroughly covers Arthur, hay is now everywhere!
“Hey, you there! What are you doing in the Kingdom stables at this hour?” says a guard.
“It’s just me, Emry Merlin, Master Ambrosia’s apprentice. I was going to keep it a secret until I had mastered it, but I suppose I must tell you so you don’t think ill of me. I’ve been researching a spell on how to examine an animal’s health by magic in an easier and less invasive manner than would be conducted by a physician. I’m still in the practicing stage, but I can assure you that it’s safe for the animals.” Emry says. The guards look between themselves, Emry, and the mess.
“Alright. Get explicit permission from Master Ambrosia next time you wish to practice here at this time. Be sure to schedule a time that does not interfere with the necessary duties of those in the castle.”
“Understood. I’ll clean up and be on my way.”
“Be sure that you do,” he says before leaving with the other gaurds. Once Arthur is certain they’re gone, he gets put from under the hay.
“I appreciate your dedication to the bit, but you didn’t have to make such a mess.” Arthur says, any trace of their moment gone.
“We didn’t get caught, so I call that a win,” Emry replies.
“Well, let’s clean it up then.” Emry looks a bit surprised.
“You’re going to help?”
“If I’m not a king willing to help out those of lower status, what kind of king am I?” Arthur picks up a broom to start sweeping, and Emry picks up the second one, a small smile on her face.
“Your father might disagree,” she says tentatively.
“Well, he’s not going to be king forever.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I wished it were other circumstances that I become king so early.”
“Become king early? What do you mean?” Arthur sighs.
“You can’t tell anyone…but my father is dying. He-he doesn’t have much time left.” Arthur’s lips quiver, tears threatening to fall.
“Arthur, I-I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She touches his arm, gently leaning the broom against some hay. He chokes back a sob.
“I know I have good things to bring to the kingdom, but why does he have to go? And what if he’d be appalled at what I do? Or even worse, the kingdom falls because of it.” He starts to sob. Emry holds him bringing his face to rest in her neck.
“Shhh, it’s ok. It’ll all be ok.” She whispers. After a few minutes of his crying, he pulls away wiping his eyes to regain composure.
“My apologies. I suppose a future king shouldn’t show such weakness.”
“I disagree. I think it’s very human to show such deep emotion. While it’s probably best that sobbing should be reserved for moments in front of those who are closest to you or alone, I feel this was appropriate, assuming I fall into that category.”
“Of course you do, I-I can’t can’t build this kingdom without you, a-and I wouldn’t want to.” Emry in a bittersweet manner thinks to herself, It’s enough. It has to be enough .
“I know you’re stressed,” she says, “and grieving what is to come, but do not doubt your ability to be king. Do not doubt that your values will make both you and Camelot great. I’m sorry that your father is dying, and I’m sorry this won’t come out as gracious. But fuck some of his values! You’re going to create something better than he ever could. And if that doesn’t make him proud, then he doesn’t deserve you. I believe in you, Arthur.”
“Thank you, for everything.”
The next day or two, they don’t see each other a lot, but whenever they do, they smile at each other sweetly remembering the day or so prior. Something’s changed, but what? Understand? Vulnerability level? Emry’s not completely sure, but she likes it. She runs into Guin the day before the ball.
“So what are you wearing to the ball?” she asks. Emry honestly hasn’t even thought about it. She’s been too caught up with dance lessons.
“Oh, I figured I’d wear the only fancy dress I have.”
“Oh but you wore that last nice party. You must wear one of my dresses. Don’t worry we’ll pick something I haven’t worn in a while and I won’t wear it for a while longer!”
“I couldn’t possibly-“
“I insist! We’re going to my room now. Come!” Emry sighs going with her. Once they arrive at her room, Guin heads straight to her wardrobe, looking through the dresses. Emry tries on a few different ones, but Guin says they ‘weren’t the right fit.’ A dress is a dress if you ask Emry, but Guin is not having that attitude.
“Oh, please. You need to find the dress that’ll make you pop and get the attention of a beautiful man.” Emry rolls her eyes.
“I don’t need a man,” Emry replies.
“Well, obviously, but it’s honestly so nice when you find one you actually have feelings for. And it’s nice to dress to impress.” It’s only nice if they have feelings for you too, Emry thinks bitterly. Emry puts the thought out of her head. She needs to be happy for Guin and Arthur. Being his court sorcerer is enough. “This one.” She hands Emry a long ombré purple dress that starts light and gradually gets darker, with a purposeful but nonbrothal-looking neckline. She generally doesn’t get the appeal of dresses, but even she has to admit it’s nice-looking. She tries it on and is astonished to look in the mirror and feel beautiful. Guin looks at her with a similar smile. “You look amazing. Arthur is going to have to try really hard not to stare at you with heart-eyes, not that he’s good at that in the first place.” This takes Emry out of her trance.
“What? No! I, He wouldn’t- I’ll wear something else! It’s fine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m only teasing. Though I do think it best if he tries to be subtle, we have to get to the alter before he can be open about you.”
“What?” Emry is completely dumbfounded. What is Guin on about? Isn’t she furious at the idea that they could have feelings for each other? How could she talk so casually about a potential affair? Or at least the feelings that could lead to one?
“I saw the looks you’ve been giving each other recently. Your feelings are obvious.”
“I-I’m sorry. We haven’t done anything in a very long time, before you and I became friends at all.”
“Why are you apologizing. You it’s all fake for us. Why else would we be saying no at the alter?”
“You’re saying what?”
“You don’t know? Arthur hasn’t told you?” Emry shakes her head in confusion. “We agreed ages ago to say no at the alter making a stand for what’s right, that we have a say in our future.”
“You are?”
“Yes. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you.”
“I-I should change and get back to the library. I need to think. Thank you so much for the dress.” Emry changes and heads towards the door.
“Emry,” She looks back at Guin, “I’m rooting for the two of you. The way you look at each other makes me hope that’ll happen for me one day.”
Emry goes back to her room and plops on her bed. What just happened? Arthur and Guin were saying ‘no’ at the alter? Would they even get there with Uther being sick? Why hadn’t he told her? Guin wanted them to be a couple? Did Arthur really have feelings for her? Enough to act on them when he became king? Is that wishful thinking? Ugh! Too much thinking. She tries to calm her mind, but has a hard time slowing down. By nightfall, she is able to force herself to stop thinking about it as to not make a fool of herself at her dancing lesson with Arthur. Said lesson was going surprisingly well.
“Perfect movements.” Arthur says with smile, “Now, this time, don’t take your eyes off me.” We start to move once again, stepping to the beat he counts off, looking into each other’s eyes the whole time. “You’ve mastered it.” He says as we let go of each other, but not moving away from one another.
“Thank you.” He looks pensive for a moment as if debating within himself.
“Would you like to try another dance? Something a bit more…intimate?” His gaze is intense. I nod. He carefully takes my arm and wraps it around his neck. My hand playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. He takes my other hand before bringing his hand around my waist hesitantly guiding me flush up against him. “Is this okay?” he whispers.
“Always.” He lets out a breath of relief. He slowly moves our feet in small steps. “Are you still marrying Guin?” He looks a bit taken aback. After seeing the uncertainty on my face, he sighs.
“If I’m not forced to. Guin and I have agreed to say no at the alter.”
“I know.” He looks confused.
“How?”
“Guin told me.”
“I didn’t know you were that close.”
“Me either, but I thought we were.” He looks guilty. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Part of me knew it would be hell to pretend I wasn’t in love with you, for you to know, and for us to do nothing about it until after Guin and I said no. And another part of me was terrified that we wouldn’t somehow be forced into it anyway. I’m still not entirely certain we won’t, but as father’s health continues to decline, I don’t think he’ll even be there to see the wedding, and part of me feels relieved, but how could my father’s death possibly bring any relief whatsoever? What is wrong with me?!”
“Shh, you’ll alert someone we’re here.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright. There’s nothing wrong with feeling relief at the idea that a plan that will largely affect your future will succeed. That’s what you’re relived about, not his death, a result of it. There’s a difference.”
“Thank you,”
“Wait, did you say you love me?”
“Yes,” I break out into a huge smile.
“I love you too.” His smile matches mine.
“I wish it were you I was marrying. Then, I’d say yes.”
“Are you asking?” She says with wide eyes.
“No, simply stating a fact, but if all goes to plan, I want my court sorcerer to one day become my wife, my queen. Please say that one day is enough.” Emry smiles.
“It is,” And this time, she wasn’t lying
The End