Thanks for the feedback, guys! This chapter's a fair bit longer, so I hope that's good. I was going to make it two chapters but I couldn't work out a way to start and end, so I just kept it all together.

Hope you guys are still reading. I haven't written the next chapter but I'm on a roll, so it'll be up pretty soon.

Buffy made it out of the castle at last, her blood running high, smiling at what had just happened. She was still slightly in shock over meeting Arthur Pendragon (who was fairly attractive, she had to admit), and the fact she was in Camelot of all places. And why on earth had… Arthur… chased her? Perhaps it wasn't the done thing to run away while the Crown Prince was looking up the corridor. She would have to work on that. And get some more suitable clothing. Everyone was staring.

Buffy leaned against one of the Castle walls, out of sight behind a large pile of hay, which smelt like horse and manure, catching her breath and running her mind over the events of the day. She remembered very little, and this frustrated her. There'd been Toth coming into the Magic Box, and their hunt for him in the dump. She remembered Spike had been there, with some sort of plastic arm. And then Toth had appeared- her memory was hazy here- she could hardly remembered at all. He'd had the stick thing that he'd had when he attacked Giles and he'd blasted it at her hadn't he? Maybe. And then she turned up in a corridor of the Castle and met Arthur.

Arthur Pendragon. That bit had been pretty cool.

Buffy was just about to move out of behind the hay, because frankly her nose could only take so much manure smell in one day, when she heard footsteps, hurried ones, quite close by. Pressing herself to the castle wall and (hopefully) out of sight, Buffy watched a girl of about her own age, or maybe a little older, approach her hiding spot.

She looked like a servant of some sort, wearing a cream coloured dress and embroidered, mustard yellow pinafore, with a red cloak fastened about her shoulders. Her skin was tan and her dark hair pinned neatly about her head in an unassumingly pretty sort of style. Her clothes were nothing compared to the sumptuous gowns in Giles' history books, but they were fairly nice, and the sort of practical clothes that would be useful, if Buffy could get her hands on any.

The girl, thankfully, turned just before she caught sight of Buffy, and headed off down the cobbled street towards a market of some sort. Without really thinking, Buffy followed her at a safe distance, hoping that nobody would see her and think her too suspicious. The girl would have a house, wouldn't she? Buffy could steal or borrow some clothes, or at least a cloak. She didn't like to steal, but sometimes it was necessary, and she could give it back afterwards, she justified.

The girl led her down another deserted alley and then into wider, busier streets. Buffy couldn't hide anymore so she tried to ignore the stares, pretending she knew where she was going, keeping her eye on the girl all the while.

Finally the girl stopped outside a black wooden door in the stone wall. She gave two faint knocks, then pushed the door open, revealing a dark interior. Buffy strained her eyes but she could barely make out the shadowy shapes of a table before the door swung shut behind the girl, and she was left staring at black wood.

About to give up on her plan, and find some other oblivious person to steal (not stealing, really) from, Buffy made to turn away and head back down towards the market, when the sound of a horse's clip-clopping hooves came to her ears. Turning in the direction of the sound, Buffy gasped and looked around wildly for any place to escape from the sight of the armed warriors that were trotting down the street.

Buffy ducked into the small space between the street and the girl's doorway, trying to blend into the black wood with little success. The warriors seemed to have little interest in the street, though, they were more intent on making their way towards the market square. Buffy sighed with relief as they passed, her cheek pressed into the black wooden door. She jumped a little at the sound of voices on the other side, then stayed as still as she could, listening, not daring to move in case she made too much noise and they came out to investigate.

"How was your day, Gwen?" the voice was deep and masculine, with a rich, accented timbre. It was the same accent Arthur had had, Buffy remembered, except that in this case it was far more pronounced.

A girl – Gwen – spoke up. Buffy thought this was most likely the girl she had followed. Her voice had the same accent, but it was far quieter and Buffy was grateful of her Slayer senses, without which she probably would have been hearing a one-sided conversation.

"It was fine. Same as usual really," said Gwen. "Morgana had another nightmare last night, though. She told me about it."

The deep male voice sighed. "Poor girl," the tone was sympathetic. "Can Gaius' potions do nothing?"

"Gaius can't cure everything, Father," said Gwen. "How was your day?"

Buffy made a mental checklist in her head. So the girl was Gwen, and she was a servant to someone called Morgana, and… hang on… Morgana? Morgana le… le something? Fay, that was it. Morgana le fay. It sounded like she was living in the castle, but wasn't she evil?

It's earlier than the legends, Buffy reminded herself. She returned to her growing list of information about Gwen. Her father was called Tom and he was a blacksmith, working in forges near the castle. He mostly made armour and swords for the Knights, of which Arthur was the head.

Finally Buffy heard footsteps. It seemed that both Gwen and Tom were heading towards the back of the house, and now would be the opportune moment to sneak in and grab some clothes (if she could find any). She felt even worse about the stealing now she kind of knew Gwen and Tom, but there was nothing to be done.

Buffy pushed open the door, wincing as it creaked on its hinges. Inside the house someone had lit a fire and it was warm and light. There was a bed in one corner, next to which was a heavy wooden chest, probably a clothes chest of some sort. Sneaking over to it, praying that Gwen and her father would stay in the back room, Buffy lifted the lid. Bingo! Inside were two more embroidered pinafores, plenty of the under-dress things, and a green cloak made of a felted woollen sort of material. Buffy grabbed the cloak, the under-dress thing and one of the pinafores and was just standing up when she heard soft footsteps heading towards the room she was in.

Buffy dived for the door, but Gwen had already entered the room, and was looking around. Her eyes alighted on Buffy, who was standing with Gwen's clothes in her arms, halfway between the open wooden clothes chest and the door.

Thinking quickly, Buffy sprang forward and covered Gwen's mouth with her hand, before the other girl could scream. Gwen struggled under her hold, but Slayer strength won out, and Buffy, keeping her hand on Gwen's mouth, twisted her head around, trying to look Gwen in the eye.

"I'll let you go if you promise not to scream," Buffy said, feeling terrible for the fright she must be giving the poor girl. Gwen slowly nodded, her movements still restricted by Buffy's hold. Carefully, Buffy let her go, and Gwen, panting, look at her.

"Who are you?" she asked. "I'm warning you… my father is in the back room…!"

"I know," Buffy said. "Please don't call him. I don't want to hurt either of you."

Gwen looked her up and down. "Well you'd better explain," she said. "And don't move!" looking around, she snatched up a long metal candle holder and brandished it like a weapon. "Stay exactly there!"

Buffy did as she asked. "I…" she was at a loss for words. "I don't really know how to explain…"

Gwen eyed the garments in her hands. "They're my clothes," she said, accusingly. "You were stealing my clothes!" She raised the candlestick a little higher.

"No! Well… yes," Buffy flapped her hands at Gwen to try and stop the candlestick rising any higher. "But I can explain! I was going to return them!"

Gwen's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really!" Buffy insisted. "Please just let me explain? I'm Buffy, by the way. Buffy Summers."

Gwen sighed. She lowered the candlestick a little, and glanced back at the doorway. "Fine," she said. "You can explain. But keep your voice down, or Father will come back in and you won't be able to reason with him as much as me!"

"Thank you," Buffy felt like crying with relief. "Thank you so much! And I really was only borrowing your clothes…"

Gwen raised her eyebrows but made no comment.

"Okay, so, I'm not a burglar…" said Buffy. "Not really. I just… look at what I'm wearing. I don't really fit in around here."

Gwen's eyes raked over Buffy's singlet top and jeans. "I can see that," she said. "You're practically naked!"

"Nuh uh!" Buffy defended her clothing choices. "Well, not where I come from. I…" she looked at Gwen. She could trust her, right? She would need some friends if she wanted to get back to Sunnydale any time soon, because even though it was cool to be in Camelot, she was kind of missing her friends… and her house… and even Giles (but she would never tell him). And it wasn't like California, it was probably totally normal to have magical stuff happen around here. There was all that stuff about the Round Table and Merlin and everything, right?

So Buffy explained. Gwen was a very good listener, really. She asked only the most important questions and if Buffy skipped over a few details and stumbled around the wordings, she didn't seem to notice. (Buffy had been going to tell her about being the Slayer, she really had but somehow… she hadn't). When Buffy finally finished, Gwen stared at her for about ten seconds, then said: "Well, you're in trouble, then."

"Exactly! I knew you would understand," said Buffy, who hadn't known anything of the sort, but she had hoped. Optimism worked wonders. "I don't suppose you know where to find any… uh… witches, then? To send me back?"

Something seemed to come over Gwen, then. She took a little step back from Buffy and her face fell into lines of worry. "Oh dear," she said. "Oh God… I'd forgotten. How stupid. Oh…"

"Gwen?"

Gwen didn't seem to hear her. She was hurrying over to the window and closing the thin, cloth curtains, then sliding a bolt across the front door. "You are so lucky Father hasn't come out here," she said. "He must have fallen asleep, he had a hard day."

"What's going on?" Buffy asked. "Why did you shut the curtains? You seem kinda… stressed?"

"Stressed?" Gwen seemed to be having hysterics. "Oh, I'm stressed!" she suddenly turned deadly serious. "How do I know you're not even a sorceress or something. How do I know you're not a spy from Uther trying to find warlocks and witches? Why did I even let you explain? Oh, I'm so stupid?" she ran her fingers through her hair and glared at Buffy, who was nonplussed.

"Look, I'm not spying for anyone," Buffy said earnestly. "I'll prove it to you in any way I can. I promise. I'm just a girl in need of a little magical help."

"That's the problem," said Gwen. "What about Uther?"

"Uther? He's… he's King, right? Arthur's dad and all that jazz?"

Gwen gasped. "You've met Arthur?"

"Sure. Nice guy. Tall. Blond. A bit too… loud, for my liking."

"Oh this is so bad," Gwen moaned. "Why did this have to happen to me? Stuff like this would never happen to someone else!"

"Look. Gwen… chill," Buffy tried appealing to the soft, sweet Gwen she had heard earlier. "You're overreacting a little. Why don't you explain what's going on?"

Gwen looked at Buffy. "You really don't know about Uther?" she asked incredulously.

"I told you! I'm from California," said Buffy. "The accent and all that?"

"Right." Gwen seemed to calm down. "Okay. The thing is, Uther's really against magic. Any hint of magical powers and he'll execute you as fast as he can. There's witch-burnings every other week, and half of them probably even aren't magical at all…" she clapped a hand to her mouth. "Don't tell anyone I said that. Uther would have my head!"

Buffy was astonished. "He executes witches?" she thought of Willow and Tara. "I happen to have two very good friends who are witches! That's prejudice!"

"It is," Gwen agreed. "But then again, we have some really dangerous warlocks out there, who'd do anything to get their hands on Camelot."

"Well, I need to find one," Buffy sighed. "Not an evil one. A nice one. And they can do a nice little spell and pop me back into reality and Bob's your uncle."

The saying seemed to confuse Gwen but she shook it off. "Look, I don't even know why I'm trusting you," she said. "But take the clothes, okay? Just give them back when you're done. I'd suggest pretending to be a servant. There's heaps of us, and that way you can hear the gossip, and find out where any warlocks might be."

"Thank you so much!" Buffy said again. "I really can't thank you enough…"

"It's fine," Gwen said. "I'm probably going to regret this tomorrow anyway. Oh, maybe you should change your name. Especially if you told it to Arthur."

"Good idea," Buffy said. She headed towards the door, clothes in her arms. "Listen, Gwen, I really appreciate this…"

"It's fine," Gwen ushered her outside. "Look, there's a barn out the back of my house that you can sleep. I don't have any room here, and Father would find you out. Stay there overnight, then come to work with me tomorrow. If you get into trouble go to the Lady Morgana's rooms. I work for her, and I'll come along eventually. Just pretend you're a new maid."

"Will do. Thank you again!" Buffy said, as Gwen closed the door and she was once again alone in the street.

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