Death's Untimely and Completely Inconvenient Visit to Camelot

Chapter 1

Death checked her map, furious at her lack of foresight.

"I knew that mapmaker should have updated this centuries ago," she muttered, shoving the old thing back into her old, leather pouch. She sighed as her dark blue eyes scanned the landscape. The woman was surrounded by forest, though she knew there was a city hiding beyond it…somewhere. That's what the last bundle of dead soldiers testified, and their Commander seemed intelligent enough. Though she had been travelling for quite some time now in the general direction, she was sure, but the lady could have sworn she had walked by the same damned tree at least three times now. Death rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and plopped down on a bolder nearby the stream in a deadly pout.

"Bloody field work," she scowled. Her day off wasn't going as nearly well as she would have liked.

It all started with that crazy woman who simply couldn't shut up about failing to get revenge on some prince, a boy that kept getting in the way, and her son, oh her son! Death, however, thought nothing of it and instructed one of her many Reapers to simply lead her away where her offspring was waiting. That wasn't so unusual- there were many crazy people sprouting crazy tales of revenge and dying because of their foolishness. No, it was the consistency. Hags became knights, knights became one of the Old Religion's head priestess, and the priestess became armies. Death started to become interested after that, and after finding nothing better to do, began to interview the souls of those who had recently died. After a bit of probing, patience, and a hint of intimidation, Death soon discovered several common factors between all of their stories. One, the city of Camelot was somehow involved. Two, the king must have been very unpopular. It was unbelievable, the sheer number of would-be assassins and failed usurp armies that claimed blood. The third was that he had a son, but the fourth was what intrigued Death the most. The forth was that the prince had a manservant, and he wasn't just any old manservant, he was a warlock. And, with a little more probing, Death discovered that with every single occurrence, with every assassin and defeated army, the boy had some part to play, whether it was murderer or as the unnoted protector of his clueless prince.

He practically does my job just as well as I do, she had thought, though it had left her quite bewildered.

How exactly was this warlock, this lone boy, causing so much trouble? Determined to find the answer to that question, Death had declared that she would be taking the day off and headed straight for Camelot.

Only, she couldn't find Camelot. So Death sat and pouted until she could hear the sound of horses approaching and two young men bickering about something she could not quite comprehend.

What exactly was a dolluphead?

Death watched as a pair of horses emerged from the woods, with two boys perched on top of them. The first was a dark haired boy, nothing out of the ordinary. He wore a blue tunic and an odd scarlet handkerchief around his neck. The other, clearly his superior, was blonde with rather pretty eyes and dressed in grey riding garb.

Familiar, Death noted, though she didn't understand why. She wasn't acquainted with too many living folk, so it didn't make sense this one looked familiar. The woman was so caught up with her predicament that she didn't notice that the bickering had stopped, or that his companion was looking at her with a queer expression on his face.

"Hello?" he called out, a bit hesitantly, "Are you alright?"

No, I defiantly have seen him before, she thought as the blonde boy shook his head, confounded.

"Oh, NOW you're concerned for my well being," he replied.

That arrogant tone, Death noted. She defiantly wasn't imagining things. Maybe this trip was worth it.

"I'm not talking about you," his companion replied, pointing towards Death, "Are you seriously telling me you can't see her? She's…she's right there!"

"Oh," said Death, dumbfounded as the blonde boy gave the black haired one a good slap on the head.

"There's no girl, Merlin. You're just imagining things," he said.

The black haired boy opened his mouth, about to say something sharp but Death shook her head, placing a finger to her lips, which he obeyed. She understood what was going on, now.

Death had found her warlock.

At first, Death and Merlin casually stared at each other as if playing a game. At least, Death casually stared. She even smiled. The boy, on the other hand, had some mixed look of bewilderment and horror, though the woman was so used to such expressions that it was all part of the introduction process. The impatient prince started to trot off in the other direction.

"Merlin!" he called out.

"C-coming, sire!" Merlin retorted. Death watched in silence as he checked to make sure his master was a far enough distance away before leaning forward.

"I'm not just seeing things, am I?" the boy asked, "You're actually there?"

Death nodded.

"Why are you invisible, then? Who are you?" he hissed.

Death shrugged.

"I forgot," she lamely replied, readjusting her age worn traveling cloak over her tunic. It was originally a brilliant shade of sapphire, though the color worn out over time- another thing she was just going to have to fix.

The boy arched an eye brow.

"You're telling me you forgot your own name and why Arthur isn't to see you, but I can?" asked Merlin.

Death scowled. Great, the all powerful warlock everyone was talking about was an idiot.

"No," she responded, trying to hold her temper, "I did not forget my name. My name is Death, though somehow everyone insists on calling me Morgan."

Merlin's eyebrows rose.

"Well," he said, shaking his head, "You're…. prettier than what I expected."

Death shrugged again as she idly glanced towards Arthur.

"Oh, relax. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to be following you all day. You've caused quite a bit of commotion and I want to see what all this fuss is about."

All this was said in a rather matter-of-fact way, and Merlin looked like he didn't seem to quite comprehend it all.

"What was that?" he weakly asked. He was so dismayed that he ignored the return of the unhappy prince.

"Merlin, have you gone deaf?" Arthur asked, slapping his servant on the back of his head.

"Honestly, does anything go through that thick skull of yours?"

Death watched with mild amusement as the two threw some verbal barbs at each other before setting out unto the trail as she followed a healthy few paces behind Merlin's horse. The warlock was still uneasy in her presence, she could tell. It was getting rather boring, really.

You'd think after the first ten minutes he'd realize I'm not here to actually kill him.

"Boo," she muttered, causing the boy to jolt in his saddle and throw a quick glare at the woman. Without warning, Arthur halted.

"Merlin, what is it?," the prince demanded.

"What?" answered Merlin, feigning innocence.

"Oh, come on," said Arthur with a sigh, "You get all…twitchy when something is bothering you."

He placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder, giving his friend a confident nod.

"It's alright, you can tell me."

"Oh, really?" replied Merlin, skeptical, "That's good, because Death has been tagging behind us the whole time, and- OW!"

Death snickered as Arthur smacked Merlin before urging his horse to move on.

"Merlin, stop being such a girl and quit day dreaming," Arthur said with a sigh , "And I thought it was something serious…"

"You asked," retorted Merlin, making a funny face.

"Yeah, well, I forgot how stupid you can be sometimes," said Arthur, and that was that.