[Third Person Pov]
After Arthur was officially discharged from the hospital wing, he and his group of friends had gathered together inside the Room of Requirement, seeking privacy and comfort after everything they had endured. The atmosphere was calm, but there was an unspoken heaviness lingering in the air. The only ones absent were Ron and Hermione, who remained behind to continue watching over Harry, as he still had not regained consciousness.
The remaining four of them sat scattered across their bean bag chairs, positioned in a loose circle facing one another. They sat there reflecting on everything that had happened, replaying the battle, the fear, and the uncertainty over and over again. It still felt surreal that it was over.
"Uh… Mer-lynn, I couldn't ask you before since you were worried about Arthur, but—" Gwyneth began hesitantly, her voice soft and uncertain as she looked toward Merlin with visible shyness.
"Who said I was worried about him?" Merlin scoffed immediately, crossing her arms as she denied it without hesitation. "I already knew he would be fine."
Gwyneth tilted her head slightly, studying her expression carefully, before a knowing smirk slowly spread across her face. "Really? That's strange… because you never left his side while he was resting. I even saw you holding his hand and gently caressing his—"
"Gwyneth," Merlin interrupted coldly, her voice dropping into a dangerous tone as her eyes narrowed, "say another word, and I will rip your tongue out."
Gwyneth immediately froze. Her lips curled inward as she shrank deeper into her seat, instinctively recoiling. Merlin's expression was so serious, so utterly devoid of warmth, that it sent a chill down her spine. For a brief moment, she genuinely thought Merlin might follow through on that threat. In that instant, Merlin's expression was even more terrifying than the face of Voldemort himself.
Meanwhile, Arthur was staring at Merlin with the widest, most idiotic grin imaginable, his smile stretching so far it looked like it might split his face in two. There was not even the slightest attempt to hide his amusement.
"Don't," Merlin said sharply, already sensing what was coming next. "Don't even start."
"So you were worried about me that much, huh?" Arthur teased shamelessly, clearly enjoying every second of her discomfort. "Honestly, I'm touched. Truly. I didn't know you cared so deeply."
"Just ask your stupid question so we can move on," Merlin replied flatly, completely ignoring him as she shifted her gaze back to Gwyneth with an expression of mild annoyance.
Gwyneth giggled nervously, clearly relieved to change the subject. She reached beside her and carefully pulled out her rapier. The once elegant blade was now visibly damaged, its surface partially rusted and eaten away where the Gorgon's corrosive blood had splattered against it.
"Um… since you know the most spells out of all of us," Gwyneth said cautiously, holding the weapon out, "I was hoping you might be able to fix it… please? If you can, of course. And if you can't, that's perfectly fine too."
"Give it here," Merlin said calmly.
Without moving from her seat, she simply raised her hand, and the rapier lifted itself from Gwyneth's grasp, floating gently through the air before settling into Merlin's hand. She examined it carefully, her eyes scanning every inch of the damage with precise attention.
Arthur leaned forward slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Wait a minute," he said, genuinely puzzled. "Where did you even get a rapier?"
He remembered seeing her use it during the battle, but in the chaos and urgency of the moment, he had never actually seen where it came from.
Gwyneth's face brightened immediately. She turned toward Lance with a radiant smile. "It's thanks to Lance! He gave it to me."
Lance quickly looked away, clearly caught off guard by the sudden attention. A faint flush crept across his face despite his efforts to maintain his composure. "I made it," he said simply. "By transmuting one of the legs from those metal knights."
His usual calm and detached demeanor returned almost instantly, as if the brief moment of embarrassment had never happened. He looked back at Gwyneth and added, "You were surprisingly competent. Especially considering you only recently began training, and this was your first real battle. You didn't freeze. You didn't hesitate. That's… impressive."
"I agree," Arthur added with a nod, recalling how she had fought. She had been clumsy and inexperienced, her movements rough and unrefined, but she had never once retreated. "You might actually have the potential to become a proper knight."
"A rapier is naturally the most suitable weapon for someone like you," Merlin said as she began casting a restoration spell. Soft arcane light enveloped the blade, slowly eating away the corrosion and restoring its structure. "If you continue training and refining your technique, you may eventually become somewhat formidable."
"Guys, stop," Gwyneth said, immediately covering her face with both hands as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "You're making me embarrassed…"
She took a slow breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swelling inside her. After a moment, she lowered her hands and looked at all of them sincerely, her fingers pressing together nervously.
"I just…" she began quietly. "I just didn't want to see any of my friends get hurt. The thought of you guys being hurt scared me more than the thought of myself getting hurt. I think… that's what helped me push forward. That's what gave me the courage to fight with everything I had."
Her voice grew softer toward the end, and she looked down, unable to meet their eyes.
None of them spoke after that.
They simply sat there in silence, each of them deeply moved and quietly flustered by the honesty and sincerity behind her words.
Merlin coughed lightly, drawing their attention. "If you want, you can leave your rapier with me. I'll send it back to you after properly enchanting it and turning it into a far more formidable weapon."
"Really?!" Gwyneth exclaimed, her eyes widening with excitement. "You could actually do that?"
Merlin nodded calmly, as if it were something trivial.
While Merlin and Gwyneth continued discussing the enchantment and the kinds of enhancements that could be applied, Arthur's attention shifted elsewhere. He noticed that Lance had grown unusually quiet. His expression was distant, his brows slightly furrowed as he stared down at his hands, lost in thought.
Arthur leaned forward slightly. "What's on your mind?" he asked curiously.
Lance remained silent for a moment before finally speaking. "Be honest with me," he said quietly. "Do you think we're going to experience more moments like that? Like what happened before?"
Arthur paused, not answering immediately. He leaned back in his seat and sighed softly.
"Most likely," he admitted honestly. "Who knows… that might have only been the beginning. The next challenges could be even harder than what we've already faced."
Lance nodded slowly. There was no fear in his expression, only acceptance. "Thank you for being honest," Lance said sincerely. "When I return home, I'm going to ask my mother to increase the intensity of my training."
He lowered his gaze to his hands, studying the callouses that covered his palms and fingers.
"Before, I didn't have any real objective," he continued. "I trained mostly for myself. I wanted to grow stronger because I enjoyed it… and because my mother and everyone around me expected it of me. I was just going through the motions without any real purpose behind it."
He slowly closed his hand into a fist, his resolve becoming visible. "But now," he said firmly, "I have a real objective."
Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, the door to the Room of Requirement opened.
Ron peeked his head inside, immediately drawing everyone's attention.
"Arthur," Ron called out, "Oliver is looking for you. He said it's important. He wants you in the locker rooms."
Arthur nodded. "Alright. I'll be there in a minute."
He gently lifted Sylvia from his lap and placed her over his shoulders before standing up. He turned toward the others with an apologetic expression.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said.
…
Arthur arrived at the locker rooms shortly afterward. He stopped at the entrance and cautiously peeked his head inside.
"You were looking for me?" he asked.
Oliver stood inside, his expression unusually grim. He nodded and gestured for Arthur to come closer.
"Yeah," Oliver said. "Come on in."
Arthur stepped inside, sensing the seriousness in his tone.
Oliver rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Look… I hate to ask this, especially since you were just discharged from the hospital wing. But do you think you'd be able to play in tomorrow's match?"
"Seriously?" Arthur asked, surprised by the sudden request.
Oliver nodded. "Harry's still out, which means we don't have a Seeker for the match against Ravenclaw. It's the last game of the year." He paused before quickly adding, "No pressure, though. You don't have to accept. I'd completely understand if you declined."
Arthur smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. You can count me in. Do you honestly think Madam Pomfrey would've let me leave if I wasn't fully recovered?"
Oliver let out a laugh and shook his head. "She would've chained you to the bed herself until you were completely healed."
Both of them laughed, the tension easing as they shared the moment.
But then Oliver's expression hardened again as he straightened his posture.
"Alright," Oliver said firmly. "Get dressed and join us in the courtyard. And if we lose because you're rusty, I'll make sure you regret not staying with Madam Pomfrey."
Arthur straightened immediately and gave an exaggerated salute.
"Sir! Yes, sir!" he declared confidently. "You can count on this year's trophy being delivered directly into your hands."
Oliver's face broke into a wide smile as he grabbed Arthur's shoulders and gave them an enthusiastic pat.
"Now that's what I like to hear!"
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