Hey guys! Work and life has been kicking my ass here lately, but I finally got some down time to start rewriting Buried Secrets and here it is! First Chapter of the revised story. As always, I love reviews and critiques! I do not own BBC or Merlin. Only the plot and my OCs. Enjoy :)
Chapter One: First Impressions
As night began to fall over the Darkling Woods, a lone figure stepped into its shadows. She drew her cloak closer, shivering in the cool breeze, and she paused, peering into the darkness. The half moon offered no assistance, its light blocked by the dense branches. Her eyes flashed gold; a small, glowing orb appeared beside her, illuminating her path. Her pale greenish-blue eyes shone in the light as she took her surroundings. "Brilliant name, really. The Darkling Woods." She scoffed, shaking her head slightly as she continued into the woods, the leaves on the trail crunching under her soft footsteps.
When Camelot's outer city wall came in view, she killed the light. Magic had consequences in this kingdom and she knew she needed to be careful. She had a quest and a simple light orb wasn't worth her life. She passed one of their legendary knights guarding the gates, disregarding him without a second glance. He was leaning against the wall, seemingly asleep.
She kept an eye out for an inn or somewhere she could sleep that night, eventually making her way into the inner city. Lights in a building to her right caught her eye and she entered it, met with loud voices and a few men arguing. "What do you need?" The older man behind the counter asked gruffly.
"A room for at least three nights." She maneuvered her bag around to find the gold coins given to her before she left Baldor.
"Ten coins." She counted them out and he handed her a room key. "Up the stairs and last room at the end of the hall."
"Thank you."
When she entered her room, her lip curled. A thin layer of dust covered the floors, the worn wardrobe, the mirror, the bed, and everything else in the small space. She held her hand out in front of her and her eyes flashed gold once more. "áfeormian min geruma." The dust vanished and she smiled. "That's better."
She shed her cloak, hanging it in the wardrobe, and tossed her bag on the bed. She caught her reflection out of the corner and she turned to the mirror. Her handmaid's dress was a couple inches too short, showing her worn leather boots. She undressed, changing into her nightgown. Her honey blonde hair fell over her shoulder in a tight braid; she untied the bottom of the braid and began loosening the tightly woven strands. Streaks of dirt on her porcelain skin covered some of her freckles and few leaves clung to her hair. "You need a bath." She muttered, frowning at her reflection. "Guess I'll figure that part out tomorrow."
The next day, the sunlight streaming through the now clean window woke her. She groaned, slowly sitting up. It took her a second to remember she was in a dirty pub in Camelot, not back in her room in Baldor. She shook her head and started to dress. She adjusted the simple rose necklace around her neck, tucking it into the gray dress she wore. She checked for her key, placed her coin purse into her pocket, and left the Rising Sun.
The early morning bustle of Camelot's people reminded her of Baldor, and she felt a smile cross her face. It didn't take long for the sweet scent of freshly baked bread to reach her and she followed her nose to the baker. "Good Mornin' miss." The elder, homely baker greeted her warmly. "What can I get ye?"
"Good morning. Two sweet rolls, please." She passed him four coins in exchange for the rolls. "Thank you."
"Come back anytime." He pocketed the two extra coins as she turned toward the citadel, biting into one of the soft, warm rolls.
She moved closer, studying the famously impregnable structure. The white brick castle was massive, even larger than the one she'd left in Baldor. While she was pondering ways to infiltrate the castle, someone raced around the corner and bumped into her. She wobbled for a second before she fell, her back hitting the ground. Her sweet roll flew out of her hands as she tried to catch herself to no avail. She started to pick herself up (taking a deep breath to prevent her from doing something stupid, like smiting the imbecile who'd knocked her down) when the young man who'd caused this appeared in front of her. "I didn't see you standing there. My apologies." He offered his hand to her.
She ignored his hand, brushing the dirt off her dress. "Obviously." She frowned at him.
His bright blue eyes shifted away from her for a second. "Come with me. I'll replace your roll."
"That's not necessary."
"I insist." He started back to the baker. "George would have a fit if he knew I caused one to go to the rats." He paused. "Of course, a lot of things go to the rats around here. My old boots, for instance."
"That probably killed the poor rats." She quipped.
He shot her a quick glare. "Good morning, George."
"Good morning, Sire." He bowed deeply. "Did Merlin forget your breakfast again?"
"Yes." He sighed, passing three coins over. "And I owe this young woman another roll."
George handed him two, and handed her one roll. "Thank ye, Sire."
"I think that should make things right."
She bowed her head to him. "Perhaps." She bit into the warm roll, her eyes still on him. He seemed familiar to her, and she couldn't figure out why. "You should pay more attention to your surroundings, though."
He half-smiled. "I-" He looked away, seeing someone pass him. "If you'll excuse me, I've got a servant to put in the stocks."
"Right." She rolled her eyes and turned her attention away from the castle.
He reminded her greatly of Carrigan, Baldor's Crown Prince. The arrogance in his walk, the way he talked about his servant, even the way he stood. Of course, Carrigan's hair was black as night and reached his shoulder, in contrast to the short honey blonde hair of the stranger.
She pushed her way through the people, strolling along the citadel's wall, looking for another entrance beside the iron gate. She blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes, halting. "This is pointless." She told herself. "I'm going to have to find another way in."
She withdrew from the citadel, leaving the city in search of a distant memory. She ambled into the Forest of Brechfa, aimlessly wandering. Noticing a clump of berry bushes just off the path, she stopped for a few minutes to pick a handful of fresh blackberries. When she resumed her walk, she got a little ways into the forest when she glimpsed an overgrown footpath leading off to her right. She set out on it without hesitation, popping a berry in her mouth every few steps. The path turned at the bank of a crystal clear lake stretching so far she couldn't make out the other side. She continued along the trail until she came to the waterfall at the end. "Wow." She breathed, seeing something behind the rushing water. "I wonder..." She mused, stepping onto the rocks leading across the lake to the waterfall. The water halted, obeying her unspoken spell as she ran, ducking inside a dark cave.
"aberan mec léohtfæt." Her orb of light reappeared and she pressed further inside.
As she rounded a corner in the cave, she found herself face to face with another stranger. His brow furrowed and she raised her chin to look him in his deep blue eyes. "How did you find this?" He asked, his expression unreadable as he regarded her.
"By accident."
"No." He shook his head. "That's not possible."
"Obviously it is, or we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?" She crossed her arms, daring him to contradict her.
"Did you conjure that?" He pointed to the orb.
She opened and closed her mouth, thinking fast. "I found it."
"By accident?" He asked, mocking her.
"Yes." She bristled up. "Is it yours?"
"No."
"Prove it."
He held his hand out and his eyes flashed gold. "ábregdan se léohtfæt." Nothing happened. "Your turn."
"ábregdan se léohtfæt." The light vanished, plunging the cave into complete darkness.
"aberan mec léohtfæt." His soft voice sounded far too loud to her, and another light orb appeared, this time floating by his head. "That's how you found the path, then." She just stared at him, Darin's warning of Uther's hatred of magic ringing in her head. "You're a witch."
"Sorceress." She corrected automatically. "Witches are useless, pathetic creatures intent on harming innocents."
"Ah." He kept gazing at her inquisitively. "Who are you?"
"Emma." The lie came easier this time. "You?"
"Merlin. You're not going to report me to Uther, are you?"
She snorted. "Hardly."
He relaxed. "Well, Emma, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"You as well." She smiled at him. "Did you enchant all of this?" She gestured around.
"Only the path." He admitted. "I needed a place to get away from the castle for a while."
Emma nodded. "When I was in Baldor, I also had a place to hide away from everything."
They sat down, facing each other, and Emma dug out the rest of the berries, offering some to Merlin. "Thanks." He took a handful from her, popping them into his mouth. "What are you doing here, then?"
"Looking for answers." She replied, evading the truth.
His brow wrinkled in curiosity, but he didn't press further. "I'm sure Arthur's looking for me." He sighed, standing to his feet. "I should get back."
She also stood, stretching. "I should too. I've got to look for some work."
"I actually think they need more help at the castle. Come with me and we'll find out." Merlin offered, waiting by the mouth of the cave.
"Alright." She agreed, following him back to the city.
The pair fell into a comfortable silence as Merlin led the way. They passed through the outer city without incident; when they came to the inner city, Merlin had just turned toward the citadel when something flew past Emma and hit Merlin on the back of the head. "Oi! Merlin!"
They both turned, and Emma scowled slightly at the young man from that morning. "This is Prince Arthur." Merlin said lightly. "He's a bit of a prat."
"And you're a bit of a useless servant." Arthur retorted before acknowledging her with a nod. "How was your breakfast?"
"Not as good as it could have been. I'm quite sore from my fall, Sire." She said sweetly, bowing to the prince.
Arthur's eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to say something. "Emma here wants to talk to Uther about working for him." Merlin added quickly.
"Oh. Follow me then, Emma. If you want to work in the castle, though, you're going to have to work on your attitude."
"Why? There's nothing wrong with it."
"If you speak to the king that way, you'll find yourself in the dungeons with the rats."
"I thought the rats died because they ate your old boots."
Merlin snorted loudly; Arthur glared at his servant. "Shut it, you idiot. Get the door." Merlin lumbered ahead, holding the door open for both Emma and Arthur. "Wait here while I tell him you wish to speak with him."
Emma glanced around Camelot's throne room. Red and gold tapestries hung from the walls; the Pendragon and Camelot crests hung behind the throne. Ceiling to floor windows left the room a bit too exposed for Emma, but if she was in a castle as sound as Camelot's, then she'd probably have that, too. Heavy footsteps sounded behind her and she took a deep breath, readying herself to face Uther Pendragon. She reluctantly sank into a bow, watching the king's stride pass her.
"You may stand." His voice was deep and smooth, almost reassuring, had he not been a tyrant hell-bent on destroying magic. She rose slowly, and his pale green eyes seemed to bore straight through her. He commanded every eye to be on him, his back impossibly straight. Emma shivered suddenly, wondering if her parents had been on this end of his stare as he executed them for magic. Or if they were like Uther, hearts full of fear and hatred because they don't understand it. "Arthur told me you may be of some assistance to me."
She swallowed her burning words. Being in the same room with the man responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people just like her sent a fire she'd never known before surging through her entire body. Yet she forced herself to look into his eyes and be respectful. "Yes, sire, I believe I can."
He raised an eyebrow. "Have you any experience?"
No. The truth died on her lips as she opened her mouth. "I was a handmaid to King Darin's ward for nearly ten years, Sire."
"Darin Dalcassian?" He asked, his interest piqued. "What brings you to Camelot?"
"Well, Your Majesty, King Darin spoke so fondly of your kingdom that I had to see it for myself." She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but luckily, he didn't pick up on it.
He smiled, looking rather pleased with himself. "Arthur!"
"Yes, Father?" Arthur asked, coming to a stop beside Emma.
Uther's smile faltered for just a second, eyes flickering between the two. He cleared his throat quickly. "Leave her with Morgana's maid. Tell her to get her acquainted with the castle."
Arthur nodded his head. He turned and strode off. Emma glanced back at the king, half wondering what happened just a few minutes ago, but she took off after Arthur, following in his wake. "Where are we going?" She asked, glancing around her as they moved further into the castle.
He ignored her, stopping right outside the kitchens. "Guinevere!"
Another maid, a few inches shorter than Emma, appeared, her warm brown eyes softening when she saw Arthur. "Sire. What do you need?"
"I need you to keep this one-" he gestured toward Emma, "-out of my hair. And find her a decent room. And a bath. She smells like the tavern."
"Right." Guinevere smiled, watching him leave for just a second. "I'm Guinevere." She adjusted the basket of laundry on her hip. "What's your name?"
"Emma."
"Well, Emma, follow me. I've got to get the Lady Morgana's room clean. You can help me with that." She led her up a curving staircase across from where she'd entered the kitchens. "What did you do to Arthur?"
Emma shrugged. "I just talked to him."
Guinevere glanced back at her over her shoulder. "He seemed to be in a foul mood. Maybe Merlin annoyed him again."
"Or maybe it's because he woke up and he realized he's a prat." Emma suggested, causing Guinevere to grin.
"Never mind. I know what happened, now." She paused at the door, knocking softly. "Lady Morgana?"
"Come in!"
Emma hung back, unsure of what to do. "Don't just stand there." Guinevere motioned for her. "Help me change the sheets."
Emma nodded, ducking in. She heard a splash, and realized Morgana was taking a bath. "Gwen, be a dear and lay out a dress for me, please. Who's in here with you?"
"We have some more help. Her name's Emma, and she's already been annoying Arthur."
Morgana snickered. "Good. I feel Merlin's losing his touch. It's quite lovely to have another female in the castle." She added, water sloshing around. Her head peeked over the divider. "Gwen?"
She grabbed the simple, elegant blue dress and headed behind the divider. Emma finally succeeded in taking the sheets off, and now she had to get the clean ones on. She paused for a second, silently thanking her maid for everything she'd taken for granted before she left. "How's the bed coming along, Emma?"
"Fine!" She lied, struggling to make the sheet fit. She took a quick look around, and seeing Gwen was occupied with Morgana, held her hand over the bed. Her eyes flashed gold and the bed instantly remade itself. Emma left out a satisfied huff, and started to put the rest of Morgana's dresses in her wardrobe.
A little later, Emma and Guinevere made their way to the tavern, accompanied by Merlin. "-talked to me at all." Merlin was telling Guinevere. "I could get used to it."
She shook her head, smiling affectionately. "He'll be back to normal before you realize it."
"You're staying here?" Merlin asked Emma suddenly, stopping in front of the Rising Sun. "You know there's better inns, right?"
"Actually, no." She replied, disappearing into the tavern.
She gathered up the few dresses and the cloak, stuffed them into her bag, rejoined the other two. "Is that everything?" Guinevere asked.
"I think so."
"Come on, then. We've got to find you somewhere to stay."