Page 48 of The Sword & the Stone

Merlin's eyes flew open wide, a look of shock and horror crossing his face. "Mordred? Gods, no! Arthur, you have to believe me. There was never anything between us beyond a physical attraction. And eventhatwas fleeting. A momentary lapse in fucking judgment on my part."

He gripped my shoulders, his gaze boring into mine with an intensity that took my breath away. "Listen to me. Mordred is a master manipulator. She'll twist the truth and use my past mistakes against me, all to drive a wedge between us. That's what she does. She finds people's weaknesses and exploits them."

I searched his face, looking for any hint of deception, but all I saw was raw, unfiltered honesty. The knot in my chest loosened, and I released a shaky breath. "I believe you." I reached up to cup his cheek. "I'm sorry, I just...the thought of you and her made me feel sick inside."

Merlin leaned into my touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who pushed you away, who made you doubt me. But I swear to you, Arthur, on everything, my heart has only ever belonged to you."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I surged forward, capturing his lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. Merlin's lips moved against mine with a fervor that stole my breath, one hand tangling in my hair while the other slid down to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him.

I pulled back reluctantly, wiping at my damp cheeks with the back of my hand. "We should head back," I said, my voice still a little shaky. "The others will be wondering where we are."

For a moment, Merlin just stared at me, as if there was something on the tip of his tongue. But ultimately, he stood, holding out a hand to help me up from the river bank.

My heart was in the soles of my feet as we made our way back to camp, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of loss that hovered around me like an ever thickening cloud.

As night fell, we gathered around the crackling fire. The air was filled with the earthy scent of wood smoke and the soft chirping of crickets in the underbrush. I sat cross-legged on the ground, Excalibur resting across my lap, the blade pulsing with a faint golden glow.

Tristan and Merlin knelt on either side of me, their expressions focused and intent as they began to teach me the intricacies of conjuring magical runes. Tristan's silvery hair gleamed in the firelight, his pale eyes reflecting the dancing flames as he spoke.

"Runes are more than just symbols," he explained. "They’re conduits for magic, each one imbued with its own unique power and meaning. To create a rune, you need to focus your will and channel your magic through Excalibur, using the blade as a medium to manifest the symbol. Eventually, you’ll be able to manifest runes without using the sword, but that’ll take more practice. For now, this will have to do."

He reached out, placing his hand over mine where it rested on Excalibur's hilt. I sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, feeling the heat of his touch seep into my skin. "Close your eyes,"he murmured. "Breathe deeply and let your mind clear. Focus on the magic flowing through you, on the connection between you and the sword."

I did as he instructed, letting my eyes drift shut and my breath slow into a steady rhythm. Gradually, I became aware of a thrumming sensation in my chest, a pulsing energy that seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within me. It was like a second heartbeat, syncing up with the faint vibrations emanating from Excalibur.

"Good," Tristan said softly. "Visualize the rune in your mind. See its shape, its curves and angles. Let it burn itself into your consciousness until you can trace its form without thought."

I furrowed my brow, concentrating on the image that Tristan had shown me earlier. A swirling, intricate knot of lines that seemed to dance and flow like currents of air. Slowly, painstakingly, I began to construct the rune in my mind's eye, each stroke deliberate and precise.

As the final line fell into place, I felt a sudden rush of energy surge through me, like a gust of wind whipping through my hair. My eyes flew open, and I gasped as I saw the rune glowing brightly on Excalibur's blade, etched in lines of shimmering gold.

"You did it," Merlin breathed, his eyes wide with amazement. "On your first try, no less. Fuck, Wart, I didn’t think you’d do better than my first lesson with Gaius."

Pride swelled in my chest, a giddy laugh bubbling up my throat. I’d done it. I’d actually conjured a magical rune, something that had seemed impossible hours ago.

Tristan smiled, squeezing my hand gently before releasing it. "Well done, Arthur. You're a natural. The rune of air is one of the more challenging ones to master."

I glanced between Tristan and Merlin, my heart still racing with exhilaration. "What does it do, exactly?" I asked, tracing my finger over the glowing lines on Excalibur's blade.

Merlin leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing against mine as he examined the rune. "It's a manifestation of the element of air. With practice, you'll be able to use it to summon winds, create barriers, even levitate objects." He tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. "I suspect it will also allow you to open the portal to Avalon when the time comes. The riddle mentioned the wind rune, so I think mastering it first is smart."

I grinned at both Tristan and Merlin, feeling like I could command the earth itself to do as I pleased. As I opened my mouth to respond, Galahad's voice cut through.

"You know, Arthur," he drawled, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, "we never did finish training you in swordplay."

I glanced over at the redheaded knight, one eyebrow arching up. He was lounging against a fallen log, his long legs stretched out before him, arms crossed behind his head. The firelight played across the angular planes of his face, casting his features in a warm, golden glow.

"Oh really?" I asked with a smirk. “And how much of this training might consist of you knocking me to the ground and laughing when I can’t get back up?”

"Hmmm." Galahad's smirk widened into a full-blown grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "As your loyal knight, it's my solemn duty to ensure you're prepared for anything. Magically and physically." His gaze raked over me slowly.

Beside me, Merlin stiffened, a muscle ticking in his jaw. I could practically feel the tension radiating off him in waves. Tristan, on the other hand, merely looked amused, his pale eyes flicking between Galahad and me with knowing mirth.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I've had enoughphysical exertion for one day. Magical training is surprisingly tiring."

Galahad let out an exaggerated sigh, pushing himself up from the log with fluid grace. "Pity. I was so looking forward to getting my hands on you again." He winked at me as he sauntered past me and stared out into the trees, as if searching for something.

I rolled my eyes at Galahad's shameless flirting, even as a traitorous part of me thrilled at the idea of his hands on me again, in a decidedly less combative context. I glanced over at Merlin, noting the tightness around his eyes and the rigid set of his shoulders.

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