*the following chapters had been written and were prepared to post, but delayed as doc manager was not operating. So they are meant to have been posted earlier than you are reading this. Apologies from the arthur (see what I did there?)*
Me: After a review from kyuzi4869, asking me to make another chapter about Arthur finding out about the dress, I responded that I didn't think I could do Arthur's point of view right. But, apparently my imagination had other idea's. So long story short, I spent my Saturday furiously writing and ended up writing +10,000 words to this story. I have separated it into parts, so you may expect chapter updates!
I would like to dedicate the rest of this story to kyuzi4869, whose message got me thinking. Like one should never let the Doctor talk, one should never let me think (unless you want fan fiction).
So, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the show that took my soul, said ''watch this!'' and proceeded to break it into a thousand pieces, otherwise known as Merlin.
~Pokemon67 is sorry for any and all grammatical errors. She tried, so give her an 'E' for effort please~
Arthur was falling. Sinking, with orange flames burning around him, licking his armor and filing his nostrils with smoke. Soon the smoke was replaced with water, and the fear of suffocation was turned into fear of drowning.
''But I'm dead. I'm already dead…''
He couldn't move, couldn't do anything to save himself. He was frozen, forced to face dying even though he was pretty sure he already had.
Arthur thought he had his eyes closed, unable to open them. But either he was mistaken and just blinded by the fire, or he had somehow managed to open them. Either way, he could see. And he realized he wasn't alone under the water.
The girl had her eyes closed, and her brown hair streamed out around her. She looked peaceful. Then, without any warning, she suddenly opened her eyes and, spotting Arthur, looked as if she were about to scream. The only reason she didn't was probably because she realized she was under water and to open her mouth now would result in dying for (what Arthur assumed, giving that he was in the same situation) a second time.
The girl seemed to have control over her limbs, because she started swimming up. Halfway up, she stopped to looked at Arthur, staring back down at him.
Arthur met her eyes, and there was some sort of silent standoff. The girl was studying him, and Arthur realized she was debating whether or not to save him. Possible, she believed him to be nothing but a dead body— maybe she couldn't tell that his eyes still held life in them. But there was that look of fear she had regarded him with when she first looked at him, and Arthur realized that the girl might have reason to hate him.
Being underwater as they were, this interaction only lasted a few seconds. But it might as well been years for Arthur, who was rapidly running out of air. His fate rested in the hands of a girl whose face he didn't know, but she clearly knew his.
Something won out in the girl's mental argument with herself. She kicked though the water back to Arthur, grabbing hold of him and going back up all quickly, as if she were afraid of changing her mind again. Arthur would've cried in relief if he could as she took him with her.
They broke the surface of the lake. They gasped for air, breathing in with the vigor of— well, the dead. Arthur had regained the use of his limbs, and was able to keep himself afloat. For a moment, they just stayed still in the water, silently thanking every deity they could think of for the gift of fresh air.
''Ov- over there,'' the girl gasped, pointing to the shore. Arthur nodded his understanding and took her hand in the waves so as not to lose her. She looked startled at the gesture, but she didn't pull away. They helped each other stay afloat as they swam toward the shore.
When their feet touched the land, Arthur let out a gasp of surprise and joy all in one breath. The second they were far enough from the waves to avoid being swept back out, he dropped the girl's hand and threw himself down onto the grassy land. The girl did the same. Arthur couldn't help thinking that green was certainly a beautiful color.
They let themselves have a few moments again to thank their lucky stars for getting out of the lake, for being alive. Arthur noticed that he had no wound— no pain that signified that he had been dead a few moments ago.
''Was it a few moments?'' He thought suddenly. How long had he been dead? His pyre had been burning, right? So he couldn't have been dead long. But then Merlin should be close by still, should've seen him come back out There was magic involved here, so maybe he just felt that he wasn't dead for long. Who knows how long he was actually in that lake…
Arthur realized that the girl had sat up, and was looking at him. He struggled to sit up as well. Maybe he wasn't dead (which he would forever be eternally grateful for), but he felt very, very tired. Sleep was in the top five things he longed for right now. And by the look of exhaustion on his fellow former dead mate, she felt the same.
''Thank you,'' Arthur said. The girl still had that startled expression on her face. ''Thank you for taking the chance that I was alive-''
''I knew you were alive,'' the girl said hastily. Arthur nodded; so she really had debated whether or not to leave him to die. In the past, Arthur would've have immediately thought her an enemy. An enemy that had some compassion maybe, but an enemy all the same. But since becoming king, since hearing Merlin's confession (though, who knows how long either of these events had occurred), he had learned that there was almost always more to issues than meets the eye; there was nothing in this world that was simply black and white.
The girl must've realized how rude and unprovoked her confession was. She bit her lip and looked away. ''I'm sorry,'' she whispered. ''I- I didn't mean to-''
''It's alright,'' Arthur assured her. He smiled. ''It's been a trying day.'' The girl smiled at the comment and raised her eyes to his face again. Arthur felt this wave of unease wash over him. He knew her, something about her was ringing all sorts of bells in his mind, but he just couldn't place his finger on any of them.
Arthur pushed away the thoughts for now— there was plenty of time to worry. The girl was not very likely to want to answer any of his questions, and in his tired state, he probably wouldn't be very good at asking them. They could talk later. Arthur smiled again. Oh, what a joy to know one would have a later.
''We should move,'' Arthur said, looking around. He and Merlin had flown that dragon here, to the Isle of the Blest. It wasn't that far to Camelot— a few days on foot. They could make it. If Camelot is still there… ''Do you have any idea how long I was in the lake?''
The girl cocked her head to the side, thinking. ''Not to long, I think,'' she said quietly. ''Maybe a few days. Time is difficult to tell.''
Days? Only days? Arthur was torn between being relieved that it was only days and horrified that he had missed whole days. But that to, could be dealt with later. If the girl was right, Camelot was still there then, along with all the people he loved. I'm coming home, Gwen. I am coming home.
''How long were you in the lake?'' Arthur ventured. ''If you were counting time, then it must've been a while.''
The girl hesitated in answering. ''I wasn't in there, exactly,'' she admitted. ''The times I were was when I was given a chance to help.'' Before Arthur could question the answer, she stood up. ''You're right: we should move.''
Arthur nodded, content to ignore the matter for the time being. He stood up, and out of habit reached for his sword. ''Oh, no.''
The girl looked confused. ''What?''
''My sword.'' Arthur looked toward the water. ''It's gone. We have no way of defending ourselves if necessary.''
The girl didn't answer. Then she suddenly walked past Arthur and into the water, up to her knees. Before Arthur could inquire what on earth she was doing, she reached into the water and pulled out Excalibur.
Arthur could only stare with his mouth hanging open as the girl walked back towards him, staring at the sword in her hands. ''Is that why you let me back?'' Arthur heard her whisper absently to herself. ''So I could give it back one last time?''
She reached Arthur and seemed to snap back to the present, shaking herself out of her stupor. ''Looking for this?'' she said.
Arthur took his sword back reverently. ''How…?'' He began, then decided against asking the question: there were so many hows and whys that needed to be answered that to ask another was just stupid at the moment. ''Ready?''
The girl paused before nodding, looking uncomfortable like she had before deciding to save him. Arthur felt worried about traveling with her, but she had saved his life (even if she nearly hadn't), and he wasn't going to leave her alone. Besides, there was still that nagging feeling that there was something so very familiar about her that he needed an answer to.
They walked back away from the water, but paused to look back once more. Arthur remembered once an old maid of his father's who used to tell him stories. She once said that in stories, no hero had ever got rewarded for looking back— quite the opposite. But Arthur couldn't help but look at the beautiful lake that had nearly become his burial place. The girl must've felt the same, actually probably more so, considering it had been her burial place for clearly much longer.
They stood reverently for a few minutes, memorizing the details, since neither of them would probably be able to work up the courage to come here ever again. Then, they turned around and walked into the woods, towards Camelot.
….
Being as tired as they were, Arthur and the girl didn't get far before deciding to settle for the night. The sun was going to set soon anyway, so they found a small clearing and gathered wood for a fire.
Arthur was prepared to fight with the sticks in an attempt to light the fire, but the girl had other ideas. She stared at the pile of sticks, and Arthur watched as she murmured a foreign word and her eyes flash yellow. Soon, a fire was warming the chilly night.
They leaned back against the trees, munching on some berries they had identified through their trek. Arthur watched the girl stare into the fire, her body posture stiff. She kept glancing at the sky, watching the setting sun with a worried expression.
Arthur shifted to grab more berries from their small pile. So, the girl had magic. He didn't suppose he was to surprised at that; in fact, it might turn out to be a good thing as they made their way through the woods. What was worrying is that if she had magic, then that probably contributed to why she had hesitated to help him. She no doubt recognized the son of the man who made it his mission to rid the world of magic. In all likely hood, it was the laws of Camelot that put her in that lake.
But there was something else, something else about the girl and her appearance that made Arthur sure he was missing something. He just didn't know what.
He suddenly sat up, a thought occurring to him. ''We haven't been introduced,'' he said, leaving the invitation open in case she shouldn't wish to share her name.
The girl turned away from the sky to look at Arthur. She sensed that it was a question that he wasn't going to push her to answer, and was debating what she should say. ''I know who you are,'' she said, turning away. She seemed ashamed that she had been rude again, but Arthur understood; if she had been executed by order's of Uther, then she wouldn't want to make nice with his son.
Arthur hadn't had anyone executed for using magic during his reign— at least, that had never been the sole crime. There had always been another reason. A stab of pain shot through his heart as he remembered Kara, Mordred's girl. She represented the thousands of Druids who still didn't trust him, who didn't believe any of the reasons he had tried to present that he would be different from his father. This girl shared their opinions.
Mordred. Arthur shuddered and tried to erase the image of Mordred in his mind. The look of resignation on his face as he stabbed Arthur…
-The look of joy when Arthur stabbed him back.
Why did he smile? Was his love for her so great that he glad that he was going to see Kara again? Or was it that he had succeeded in avenging her death? Or was it simply the knowledge that Arthur fought him, showed him what Mordred believed to be his true colors?
Arthur pushed these thoughts aside. He didn't want to dwell on that. There were so many things to figure out, and that was something he couldn't afford to be distracted by.
The sun was nearly gone over the horizon. The girl stood up suddenly. She turned to Arthur, a look of panic on her face. ''I'll- I'll keep watch,'' she said shakily.
Arthur frowned. ''We haven't seen anyone,'' he argued. ''I don't think bandits will have bothered coming this far away from the large cities. You don't need to-''
''Yes I do!'' The girl shouted. Panic was so evident in her voice, and her eyes looked wild. Arthur began to contemplate whether or not she was quite sane. ''You have your sword?''
''Y-yes,'' Arthur said. ''It is specially mine, so I can't give it to you.''
The girl shook her head. ''No, I don't want it. Just, keep it by you. In case…'' she trailed off, and without warning spun on her heel to sit on the edge of their campsite, her back to Arthur.
Arthur leaned back again, staring at the back of the girl, not quite sure what her problem was. It was clear that she was exhausted as he was, and why she should choose to keep lookout for bandits that were not there instead of sleeping was beyond him.
Night fell over their camp. Arthur closed his eyes, and all the thoughts he had forced himself not to dwell on while walking through the woods so as to keep focused, he allowed himself the pleasure of thinking.
Gwen. He was going to see her again. The memory of her smile lingered in his mind, making a smile spread across his own face. He would get to see her again, get to live with her. For years and years. When he went off to battle, he thought for sure he wasn't going to be able to, had resigned himself to it so she would prepare herself for the worst. But he had hoped. And now his wishes were coming true. He would get to go home to his Gwenivere.
But there was something else to deal with when he got home as well. Merlin. His trusted manservant had all these years been breaking the law. Been practicing and using magic. How was he going to deal with that? Would he have to kick Merlin out of Camelot? Even though he had been using magic for good?
''I use it for you, Arthur. Always for you.''
How could he do that?
Arthur looked across at the girl. She no doubt ended up in that lake because of the ban against magic. So many had died because of it. Hell, he had died of it because the ban was the reason Morgana raised an army against Camelot in the first place…
Morgana.
Arthur closed his eyes painfully. His sister. His beautiful sister, whom he grew up with and laughed with. Whom he teased and who teased him right back. Who's sword skills so out matched his that he made it his mission to be the best of the best in sword fighting just so he could out match her.
He never admitted that to her.
Morgana was gone. Dead. Gone and dead. Why? Because of magic. Not the use of it, but because of the ban on it.
How long had she known? How long had she hidden herself away, fear eating away at her about being found out? How many times did she stand in her window, watching people being hung, burned, and decapitated for the very thing she had? How many times did she imagine herself out there in their place?
When did she decide that Arthur was no different, that he would treat her the same as those people?
When had she decided that she had to lie to him every day?
When was the last time they were completely honest with each other?
Arthur didn't know. And now he never would.
Kara had had every reason to hate him. From the Druid's point of view, if the king's own ward, whom they found out was actually his own daughter, felt unsafe in Camelot, then how could they ever expect to feel safe? No matter promise Arthur made, he could never erase the fear other's had had for his father.
Arthur turned on his side, his hand resting on his sword. He would figure all this out. He'd find a way. He had been given a second chance at life and he was going to make it worthwhile. Since it had been a few days, Merlin was probably back in Camelot. Why, he might've told Gwen the truth about his magic and Gwen probably already came up with a plan to make sure nothing like the war with Morgana ever happens again. That would be like her. His resourceful, brave queen, Gwenivere…
….
Arthur woke up to the sound of laughter. And crying. Laughter and crying. Who was so emotional this early in the morning?
Arthur got up and saw at the edge of camp, the girl. she was sitting on the ground where she had kept her night vigil, and she had her head thrown back in laughter and tears pouring down her cheeks. It was such a change from the glares and looks of fear she had thrown his way yesterday that Arthur was completely bewildered by it.
He approached her slowly, his hand casually on his sword (you never know with crazy people). ''What's going on?'' Arthur asked, keeping his tone light.
The girl brought her hands to her face, trying to wipe away her tears. She stood up, and her face, glistening with tears, had a huge smile on it. ''I'm alive,'' she breathed. The words sent a laugh through her again. ''I'm alive!''
Arthur nodded slowly. ''Yes,'' he said evenly. ''We established that yesterday.''
The girl shook her head wildly. Her tears and laughter, along with her wild hair and filthy dress, made her look like a mad woman. Arthur hoped the crazy euphoria coming from the girl was just the complete exhaustion from coming back from the dead and staying up all night. ''I'm alive and human!'' Arthur continued to stare at her. ''Human,'' she breathed again. ''Human. Always human. Not beast, not killer, just human. Always human!'' she laughed again.
Arthur was properly freaked out now. ''Okay,'' he said slowly, taking a few steps back for good measure.
The girl must've realized she was scaring him. She blushed, and nervously ran her fingers through her wild hair, taking a few deep breaths to control herself. ''Sorry.''
Arthur shrugged, but still kept his distance. ''It's fine. It's nice that you're, er, human.''
The girl laughed at his awkwardness. It was a much more controlled laugh, the joy of it not out of control like before. ''I'm sorry,'' she said again. She smiled, and walked past Arthur to where their fire had been the night before. ''Shall we get going?''
''Huh?''
''We have to go,'' the girl repeated. She brushed some dirt over the remaining embers and turned back to Arthur. ''We have to get you to Camelot.''
….
They set off through the woods again. The girl was more animated today, walking alongside Arthur instead of hesitantly trailing along behind him, looking ready to flee.
Arthur had assumed she was a Druid, and with her new found confidence as she pointed out certain paths in the trees, Arthur was certain of it. Being a Druid, she would've spent her whole life in the woods, navigating around them and hunting through them for food.
As they walked along a particular clear path, Arthur decided he was going to try and get some answers. ''Why were you so happy before?''
The girl pulled at her frayed sleeve. Her dress must've once been nice. It was blue, with some red trim. It was very un-Druid like, and judging by the way it hung off her, it was probably not her's.
''You've probably already assumed I'm a Druid,'' the girl began. She seemed more wiling to be open with him today, but talking must've made her uncomfortable. She kept her eyes on the road, sky, trees— anywhere but Arthur. ''Well, was.''
''What do you mean, was?'' Arthur asked.
''They were afraid of me,'' the girl admitted. ''You see, I was cursed.''
''How so?''
The girl looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Arthur realized that she was all to aware that he knew he should recognize her. She was now revealing her identity to him, and was scared of his reaction. ''I was cursed to kill forever. So every night, I became a monster. I hunted and killed many animals and people. In my cursed state, I couldn't control myself. I only got the memories of the people's faces as I killed them when I woke up the next morning…'' She shook her head.
Arthur stared at her. No wonder she had been so scared the previous night. She was afraid that coming back to life had meant coming back to her curse. But it hadn't. That was why she was so happy. ''Is that how you died?'' Arthur asked softly. ''You were caught?''
The girl kept her eyes on the ground. ''Someone tried to help me. He said he could smuggle me out of the city. Gave me this,'' she pointed to her dirty dress. ''Thought if he disguised me, we could slip past the guards.'' She paused for a minute. ''I couldn't let him risk everything for me. If he was caught, he would've been killed too. So I tried to escape by myself. But I failed.''
''I'm sorry,'' Arthur said. ''This happened in Camelot, didn't it?'' The girl nodded. ''I'm sorry,'' Arthur said again. ''Things are different now. I rule differently from my father.''
''I'm sure you do,'' the girl said quietly.
''Who was the man who helped you?'' Arthur asked. ''He is probably still in Camelot if you want to see him again.''
The girl stopped walking. She took a deep breath and turned on her heel, facing Arthur. The look on her face was one of determination, resignation, and fear. ''His name is Merlin.''
Arthur was completely shocked. ''Merlin!'' He said. The girl had been dead for a while, back when his father was still alive. The idea that Merlin had been so reckless as to practice magic and help a wanted Druid monster under Uther Pendragon's reign was astonishing. ''So, Merlin helped you?'' An image of Merlin swiping his food flashed through his mind. ''He gave you food? And gave you the dre-''
Arthur paused, his mind going back to those series of events, so long ago.
''Merlin! What are you doing?''
''Uh, checking for moths?''
''You haven't been yourself these past few days. What's wrong?''
''It was dark blue, with red trim. The skirt had a sort of purple tinge to it.''
''What else could he have stolen the dress for?''
''Something other than cross dressing!''
Arthur remembered. He had realized a long time ago that Merlin wasn't a cross dresser. It had become a sort of joke between them and Gwenivere. Though, whenever he was feeling particularly ticked off, Merlin would stroke Gwenivere's dresses hanging in her and Arthur's closet, or ask Arthur his opinion on different kinds of laces, just to annoy Arthur. Arthur had realized that, yet he had never found out (nor in all honesty did he give it much thought) what had happened to the dress he had saw Merlin take out of Morgana's wardrobe. And now he knew.
That was what had been so confusing about the girl. Arthur knew he had seen her before. In the corner of the castle courtyard, her face obscured by the shadows, right before she turned into that monster, was where. And now she was standing in front of him, wearing the dress Morgana had thought she misplaced.
Arthur remembered something else, too. He remembered striking at the beast, his sword slicing it's shoulder. A beast could survive that. But for a human, the blow would've been fatal.
It had been fatal.
''I killed you,'' Arthur whispered. ''I killed you.'' The girl nodded. It explained everything: why she had looked so frightened to see him in the lake, and why she had hesitated to save him. ''I'm sorry.''
The girl shrugged. ''Merlin buried me in the lake,'' she said. ''I managed to help him get Excalibur for you.'' She pointed to the sword. ''And, besides, my curse is gone now— I can have a life!''
She smiled at Arthur. What she said was true. No curse meant she could live a regular Druid life if she chose. But what bothered Arthur was that it was his fault she had died in the first place. And in death, she had saved his life not just by dragging him out of the lake, but by giving him his sword, which without he would've died many times over. He was indebted to this girl just like he was indebted to Merlin, and he didn't know how he'd ever repay either of them.
They stared at each other. Murderer to victim. Arthur wanted something to be said. He longed to make it up to her, to fix his wrong. He didn't deserve forgiveness— he didn't want it. You don't forgive the person who took your life: he certainly wouldn't have forgiven Mordred if it had been him standing here. Understood, yes. Forgiven, no. He was not capable of that and didn't expect anyone else to be either.
But the girl had no intention of saying meaningless 'it's alright' or 'it's forgotten.' Instead, she stuck out her hand as Arthur had his when in the water and said, ''All's well that end's well.''
Arthur looked at her hand and at her face. He could remember it more clearly now, the fear for the people she was about to hurt back then in the courtyard. He clasped her hand. ''What if it's not the end?''
The girl smiled. ''Then we'll just have to wait and see,'' she cocked her head to the side. ''Does this mean I am welcome in Camelot?''
Arthur laughed. ''I think after the events these past few days, I will make it my duty to ensure that everyone is welcome in Camelot.''
Me: Hope you enjoyed! If you like it, and want to see more, please leave a review!
Happy Writing!
