[Third person POV]
"Alright, class," Arthur said, clapping his hands together, "I don't want to keep you too long on your time off. You've all earned a break. So off you go—class dismissed for today. I'll inform you of the next lesson when I can find a time that works for all of us. Now off you go, chip, chip!"
He waved them away with exaggerated flair, his tone laced with the whimsical elegance of an old English professor bidding farewell to his students after a long lecture.
Harry and Ron were already halfway out the door, laughing and chatting animatedly.
"Mate, just imagine it," Ron said, eyes wide with excitement. "I point my hand forward, a magic circle appears up in front of me, and—boom!—a tornado of fire spirals out. That's bloody mental, innit?"
Harry chuckled, his voice filled with amusement.
Hermione rolled her eyes as she followed them out. "Honestly, Ron, why is your first instinct m destruction? Magic circles could be used for dozens of things—healing, protection, among other things—but you immediately go for arson."
"Can you blame me?" Ron laughed. "It sounds way cooler."
As the iconic trio exited the room, the rest of the class lingered behind, scattered across the cozy room filled
bean bag chairs and floating parchment.
Gwyneth flopped onto one of the plush chairs with a dramatic groan. "Ugh, I'm so knackered…"
Arthur chuckled as he began erasing the whiteboard, humming a cheerful little tune. Lance, still seated nearby, raised a brow at her, clearly unimpressed.
"From what, exactly?" he asked, eyes narrowing in mock confusion. "We've been sitting around all day."
"I'm not physically tired, you dolt," Gwyneth mumbled, dragging a cushion over her face. "It's mental exhaustion. I'm baked. I think I'm going to crawl into my dorm and hibernate."
Her words drew a warm chuckle from Mer-lynn, who was quietly reading a book in her hands.
Lance rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing one of the practice swords inside the barrel. He gave it a few test swings, his movements fluid and practiced. "That sounds wildly unproductive."
Gwyneth scoffed, pulling the cushion down just enough to glare at him. "Oh, I'm so sorry for being a normal girl who needs normal rest, unlike you war-forged lunatics who train for fun and probably eat raw meat for breakfast."
Lance smirked. "Have you ever even considered picking up a sword? It might be useful. Might make you a little less… slothful."
"Your face is slothful," Gwyneth snapped back with a hiss without missing a beat, causing Arthur to snicker as he finally gave up on the board and joined them on the beanbags.
Gwyneth sat up a bit and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "And for your information, I have thought about it. Seeing how you and Arthur love swinging blades around so much, I considered the idea. But then I thought to myself, 'Why would a lady such as myself need a sword?'"
"You being a lady has nothing to do with wielding a sword," Lance replied, shaking his head. "Mer-lynn knows swordsmanship."
Gwyneth's eyes widened as she turned towards Merlin in surprise "Wait, you do?"
Merlin simply gave a soft, dignified nod, her expression unreadable.
Arthur leaned back, grinning. "Don't let her modesty fool you. She's better than I am with a sword."
Gwyneth blinked. "What?! Seriously?" She had witnessed Arthur's battle with both Lance and the Black Knight, so to hear Merlin was better was definitely a surprise.
Merlin sighed, brushing a lock of silver hair behind her ear. "That's only for now. Arthur's potential far outpaces mine. He'll surpass me in time. It's inevitable."
Before the conversation could turn more sentimental, Lance approached Mer-lynn, holding two wooden swords, one extended toward her.
"I recall we agreed to battle in the far future, so what about it, is that future now?"
Merlin stared at Lance for a tense moment before dropping her head and sighing, "Fine, as long as you don't show shame in being defeated by a girl like me, I know how much that could hurt the male echo"
"Damn I didn't know Mer-lynn could trash talk, are you just going to let her speak to you like that Lance" Gwyneth called out cupping the area around his mouth.
Arthur laughed heartily as Gwyneth started flicking her finger as if Lance had just gotten burned.
"Hahahaha! Yeah Lance come on, shot her back with something. Mer-lynn's a big girl she would be able to take it"
Both Arthur and Gwyneth burst into laughter before leaning over their beanbags and high fiving.
Lance let out a long sigh and shook his head as he and Merlin began to distance themselves from the others. They took slow, deliberate steps backward, maintaining eye contact until they found themselves a comfortable distance apart, both settling into a ready stance.
"Boo!" Gwyneth groaned dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. "He didn't even talk back! How lame!"
Arthur chuckled from his beanbag, still recovering from earlier laughter. "I don't think Lance is really the type to say anything,"
The tension between the two swordsmen grew quiet and sharp. Lance and Merlin stood still, eyes locked, each waiting for the other to make a move.
Then, without warning, Lance charged forward. His movements were quick and practiced, the wooden sword in his hand slashing through the air with purpose.
But Merlin didn't move.
She remained perfectly still, her grip loose but confident on the wooden sword at her side.
And then—within the span of three moves—it was over.
Clack. Clack. Thud.
Lance's sword was slapped from his grip, spinning away across the floor. A moment later, his feet were swept from under him and he landed squarely on his backside with a dull thump. He blinked up at her, stunned and dazed, his expression frozen somewhere between confusion and disbelief.
"I… Huh?" he mumbled, looking around in astonishment. "What just happened?"
Even Gwyneth was slack-jawed, caught between awe and amusement. "Did anyone else… see that?"
Arthur smirked, arms folded. "Oh yeah. And it was glorious."
Merlin stepped toward Lance and offered her hand. Despite the absolute dominance in their exchange, there was no mockery in her expression—only calmness.
"So… how are you feeling?" she asked with a slight teasing smile.
Lance took her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. He dusted himself off and gave her a wide grin. "Honestly? Pretty excited."
"Oh?" she tilted her head curiously.
"Yeah. I didn't realize it before, but I've been… arrogant. When my mother forced me to come here, I thought it'd be a waste of time. I figured I wouldn't learn anything new. But being here, training with you guys… I've been proven wrong again and again. You've all shown me I still have so much to learn."
Arthur and Mer-lynn exchanged a quiet glance, both sharing the same little smirk.
Lance then bowed deeply toward her, one arm across his chest in a show of knightly respect. "Thank you, Mer-lynn. I hope to learn a great deal more from you moving forward."
Merlin blinked. She returned the bow, albeit a little awkwardly. "Uh, sure thing… I think."
As she straightened, her thoughts briefly wandered, her gaze drifting between Lance and Gwyneth, who had now taken Sylvia into her lap and was idly petting her.
'Sometimes I really forget they're still just kids... considering who they really are,' she thought, almost fondly.
Arthur sat up slightly and gave Merlin a nod. "Go ahead and give it to him."
Lance raised a brow in confusion. "Give me what?"
Merlin simply shrugged, her face unreadable. "If you say so…"
Then, without further explanation, she stepped forward and—in a move that sent alarm bells ringing—began spreading her legs slightly apart.
Her hands slipped beneath her skirt.
Lance's eyes widened. Gwyneth blinked rapidly, looking between Merlin and Arthur with growing concern.
"Wait—what are you doing?" Lance asked, his voice jumping an octave.
To everyone's collective confusion—and horror—Merlin started to pull something long and solid from under her skirt.
Very solid.
Very large.
Out came the hilt of a massive black sword, followed by its full, ominous blade, nearly as long as she was tall. She gripped it with one hand effortlessly and gave it a spin, twirling it once with practiced ease before presenting it, point down, toward Lance.
"Here you go," she said sweetly, wearing the most innocent smile imaginable.
Lance and Gwyneth stared at the blade. Then at Merlin. Then back at the sword.
Arthur had completely lost it. He was laughing so hard he was wheezing, clutching his stomach as he nearly rolled out of his bean bag chair and onto the floor.
"Mer-lynn…" Gwyneth began slowly, her voice low and cautious, "Where—where were you hiding that?"
Merlin's entire demeanor shifted. Her expression turned grave, her tone somber as she said in a voice that left no room for further questions:
"You don't want to know. And I don't want to answer."
There was a long silence.
"I'm not touching that," Lance deadpanned, leaning back away from it.
Arthur exploded into another round of laughter, practically crying.
Gwyneth nodded in agreement, scooting back slightly. "Yeah, nope. I second that. That sword is cursed now."
Merlin sighed, planting the blade gently beside her. "You people are so dramatic."
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