Chapter Text
Camelot, England,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1500CE
Merlin’s Observatory
Prologue: This is Why I Don’t Socialize
Leaning over the windowsill, Charlie huffed as she heard Douxie crash once more into yet another priceless, magical artifact. No doubt that old gruffer would be on her ass again.
The witch quietly thought how in Camelot he had managed to swindle so many villagers of their money, while also sounding like a stampede of trolls.
She retracted her arm from cleaning the window and closed the shutters- turning around to look at her fellow student of Merlin.
Hirisdoux and her had been ordered to clean the old geezer’s chambers before they were allowed to attend the gala below. Autumn rolled her eyes at the sad sight of him being beaten with a broom he had enchanted to do his sweeping for him. Idiot. If being clumsy was a currency, he’d be a fucking billionaire.
“When are you going to realize that the fastest way to get this done is to do it with our own two hands?” She snarled down at him. Said idiot got back up on his feet, cracking a smile, and extended his arms.
“Technically, I am using my hands,“ he chuckled with a smug smile as he held out his bracelet. Charlie understood the implication.
The young witch scoffed.
In her opinion; they weren’t ready for free-hand magic yet; it was too unruly- too uncertain. Autumn would much rather use her staff and only her staff to do what little magic she was allowed.
Charlie knelt down and picked up the rough wooden handle of the broom. Douxie’s face lit up; it appeared that he concluded she was going to do his chores.
A sudden loud uproar of cheers startled them both, causing the broom to once more fall to the floor, a cloud of dust rising from around where it hit.
She coughed and swatted a hand in front of her face. Autumn sighed as she glanced at Douxie, eyes gleaming mischievously.
“If we get caught-“ She started, eyes casting down, but then realized that he was already racing down the tower steps. “By Merlin’s grace..” The young Witch muttered.
Running down the stairwell, white wooden staff in hand, cloak fluttering close behind; Autumn internally distressed about which grotesque animal Merlin would transfigure them into once he discovers the mess in his tower.
Charlie caught up with him at the entrance to the gala, pulling her cloak over her head; the witch merged into the dense crowd and snorted at the stupid knight-themed decor garnished about the main plaza.
Bright banners were strung around the castle, depicting images of knights in battle. One appeared to have been torn in two, and submerged in…..was that barbeque sauce?
“I pity the damn fool who has to clean up after these idiots….” She whispered under her brittle breath; watching one of the guests plunge straight into the wine barrel to her left.
Ahead of her, up on his raised stone balcony, (obviously.) King Arthur stood, his sister Morgana standing directly to the king’s right, blank faced and gorgeously radiant.
Pushing past a couple of drunk bastards to hear in to what he was saying; she craned her neck to listen in. “-We will no longer cower in fear-“ Autumn caught his honeyed words in partial. “-Hideous beasts!-“
His orotund speech filled the air as he lifted his infamous sword Excalibur to the sky.
The crowd below must have liked what they heard, because immediately after, their fists shot up as-well; loud cheering rung across the courtyard. ‘Good for them’, she thought crudely.
‘Never trusted the King.’ Autumn muttered.
Charlie often spied on Merlin’s meetings with him.
In her eyes, exempt from the stupid tainting of lies and deceit, she just saw him as a racist; pompous; jerk-wad who threw a tantrum whenever he wasn’t allowed to have his way.
Backing up while sticking her tongue out at the crowd below and blowing raspberries, she ducked beneath one of the banquette tables and crawled into one of the rat-holes in the stone wall.
“Pft!,” Autumn spat, as a roach crawled across the back of her hand, the other clutching her bunched up staff tightly.
Dirty, just like everyone in this stupid kingdom.
Finally, she lifted herself up off the ground and glanced towards the sky where sparkling white dots scattered the dark sky. She allowed herself to stare as she fixed her robe, only for a second, there were more, important, things to attend to.
If she wasn’t the best at all times, who was she really?
Chewing on her lip, she surveyed the surrounding area, hay-troll targets stood around, sporting their swords and shields, raised in a mock-attempt at an attack stance, but they would never get the chance.
The Knights Of the Round Table’s special training grounds.
Of course Douxie got to train here, he was Merlin and Arthur’s all important star student. Autumn narrowed her eyes as she remembered Merlin strictly informing her to keep her Magicks training secret from her uncle.
As vile as King Arthur was, he was still her uncle, and she was his niece. If he learnt that his poor, defenseless, sweet, niece was born a witch, the sad thing might pop a blood vessel. To be completely honest, the wheels in his brain are spinning, but the hamster died twenty-years ago.
Bitter blood seeped out of the spiteful witch’s mouth as she realized she had been biting her tongue.
Flexing her fingers, she gripped her white staff harder.
“Radius lucis!”
As instructed, a beam of daylight shot from the end of her staff straight into the heart of the dummy, quickly turning it into solid stone. Not that she approved of the whole, “stone every gruesome troll,” thing, but it was a quick-fix for overbearing stress and anxiety.
Smirking, she tilted her head to the left and raised her staff once more to another dummy. “Constrictio!”
Red glowing ropes shot out of the grass and bound the dummy. Charlie scrunched up her face and moved her arms in a circle; the ropes wound tighter and tighter and tighter around the dummy until, Pop!
Seeing the bits and pieces of hay fall wearily to the ground, caused an unsettling kind of calm to tingle inside of her chest. Her eyes followed them as they covered the grass, it wasn’t hard to imagine it as something else.
Perhaps , instead of hay, it could be the chunky, bloody parts of Arthur, strung around the yard. His face stuck in a constant show of anguish, torment, and surprise as his limbs were ever-so-painfully ripped from his torso. Feeling the same kind of hurt she felt as she watched him murder her m-
Sighing, she realized streaks of dawn were apparent alongside the quickly-fading stars. Was she really out that for long? It was hard to remember.
Maybe it was time to pick up on a new hobby, this was just making her incurable asshole tendencies worse.
____
Popping her head out of the rat hole once more, Autumn quickly took note that, yes, the gala was still going hard, perhaps even-more-so.
Across the courtyard , Douxie was staring, doe-eyes and all at the haughty King. It was no surprise that he practically idolized that bastard.
Cramming another tart into his cherry-stained mouth, his eyes trailed over to her, and he gave the witch one of his classic ‘I know you’re insanely mad at me; but if I play sweet and dumb, maybe you’ll let me off the hook’ smiles.
She didn’t return it.
Hearing the slamming of a door, the witch looked up from what she was currently reading (The Magic of Dark Arts, children's version) to see Merlin stomping angrily into the central tower.
His gruff voice immediately shatters any sort of attempt at a somewhat pleasant atmosphere as his face contorts into one of pure anger.
“Which one of you- dim-wits deliberately disobeyed my orders of staying INSIDE of the tower; and not attending the festival?
Looking over at Doux’s mortified expression, Charlie realized she probably should take one for the team, besides, then he’d owe her twice the amount of break time from studying.
Preparing herself to get whacked in the face, she took a deep breath and looked up at Merlin with her best attempt at an, ‘I’m so very terribly sorry, it was a one time thing I SWEAR.’ Face.
*FWACK* She flinched, but then realized that no impact came.
Looking over to her left, heart dropping, she noticed Merlin standing over Hirisdoux, staff in hand, as the young wizard stared shocked at the floor; his cheek quickly reddening from being smacked by the Staff of Avalon.
Thick globs of dark blood had already started pouring from the fresh wound where he was struck. White pinpricks could be seen under the ripped flesh, likely bone.
He glared down at Douxie menacingly, preparing for another strike.
In a spiteful rage, she yelled over at the old fuck. “Stercorem pro cerebro habes!?” (Do you have shit for brains!?) The grizzled wizard’s old eyes fixated on hers, a fleeting look of shock appeared on his wrinkly face.
Ruffling Douxie’s hair as salted tears slid down his cheeks; he crossed his arms and she swore she saw a vein pop out of his neck.
“Wild Wood duty, tomorrow.” Merlin ground out, ice cold.
The witch groaned internally, not fully prepared to risk having to wash a cow’s ass alongside it.
Doux gasped softly and looked up at him. “Please, sir, it was my fault, I never should have-“
An impatient, “Tut!” Interrupted his rambling. “Don’t mishear me Hirisdoux; you’re both in for SEVERE punishment. He angrily spoke as he turned out the doorway.
Getting up slowly, Douxie walked over to Charlie, attempting an apology, but once again getting cut off.
“Are you alright?” Cut through the awkward silence left by Merlin’s departure. He shook his head softly, reassuring her.
“Just Breathe.” Tears pricked at her eyes as the boy looked up at her, clearly annoyed by her out-of-place pestering. “I’ve got you.” She husked into his neck, pulling him closer as she kneeled. Sighing, she hoisted him up into one of the many chairs decorating the room.
He was strong, but Charlie knew the boy saw Merlin as a father. That interaction surely messed something up in that meek little turd-brain of his.
She quietly admitted that she wasn’t too fond of Douxie, but he was charming, in his own, lovable, stupid, little brother that you would die for kind of way.
Fixing the zipper of his hoodie, and finding him an ice-Lolly to put over his bruise, she pondered her newfound task she would have to complete tomorrow.
She was familiar with Wild Wood Duty; but until now she thought it was reserved for King Arthur’s toughest soldiers. Recently, the army had been attempting to take over some of the woodland. That itself was unsettling, considering how the Wild Wood was the only place that provided shade for the Trolls in the daytime.
Wild Wood duty meant scouting out new areas for the next venture further into the tangled mess of trees; collecting samples of troll habitats; and if you’re lucky, (more like utterly ill-fated) and you happen to come across a poor, defenseless, troll, you get the honors of slaughtering it.
Grotesque images raced through her mind. Sure, she was totally against the King’s unfair treatment of them, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of what they could do to lone human girls in their territory.
A stagnant pool of blood seeped into the dead grass, maggots crawling through her blood-caked veins. Intestines twisted together grossly, being picked up and unraveled by vultures. Her face unrecognizable, being half of it forcibly ripped off.
Shuddering and clutching her staff closer, the young witch hoped that her magic would come in handy and protect her from the dangers lurking in the woods. It would, wouldn’t it?