Disclaimer: I don't own 'Supernatural' or 'Merlin'; they belong to their respective creators, and I'm just borrowing them for this story
Feedback: Always a pleasure
AN: Now that the Winchesters and Castiel are in Camelot, you can expect to meet some of the other cast members very soon (Although we don't get into the actual action until the next chapter, I hope you like what I came up with for this one, anyway)...
The Cup of Life
Looking at the hall in front of him, filled with weakened children, Dean wondered what it said about the world that this kind of thing could still happen even with a thousand years between this Shtriga and the one he'd first encountered as a child. With Sam having confirmed where the sick boy was being taken, the Winchesters and Castiel had followed the group to their destination, where they had been shocked to find at least five other victims lying around the hall, each in the same condition as the victims that Sam and Dean had encountered in their last Shtriga case over five years ago from their perspective.
"God..." Sam said, swallowing as he looked at the children, as small and frail-looking as the victims of the last Shtriga they'd encountered, without even the benefits of modern medicine- from the Winchesters' perspective, anyway- to help them...
"Any chance you could... do anything?" Dean asked, glancing over at Castiel hopefully.
"I cannot," Castiel replied, shaking his head apologetically at his friend's question. "The bond created between the Shtriga and its victims when it feeds is continuous as long as it is alive; I may heal the damage that they have sustained since the shtriga attacked, but I cannot repair their immune systems to prevent further illness unless we kill the shtriga itself."
"Damnit..." Dean said, shaking his head as he looked at the children before he turned to look at Sam and Castiel. "OK, ask around, see what you can find out about where this thing's been hunting; if we can work out its pattern, we might be able to find out where it's going to strike next. If anyone asks, we're travellers; don't... give away anything detailed unless you have to, clear?"
For a moment, Dean thought that Sam was going to ask the most obvious question facing them- even if they could find the shtriga, they had no way of killing it right now; he might have slipped a couple of guns into his belt just in case, but he only had a few bullets for each, and none of them were the consecrated iron he'd need to kill the Shtriga-, but in the end his younger brother said nothing and turned around to walk into the crowd of people in the room, Castiel heading off in another direction while Dean started to examine the children himself.
He'd worry about their lack of viable weapons once they'd worked out where the Shtriga was hunting; once they'd worked out how to find it, then he'd work out how to kill it.
After a few moments of walking around the hall, he noticed a man in sleeveless chain mail looking at the children with a solemn expression that put him suddenly in mind of the look he'd sometimes seen on Bobby's face when they were in trouble- the look of a man who guarded those who couldn't protect themselves out of an obligation that went deeper than blood, faced with something he couldn't stop regardless of his own experience-, prompting Dean to walk over to stand beside the knight.
"It's been like this for a while?" he said as he looked at the other man, trying to sound casual without appearing too intimidated by the other man's size; he and his brother might be in pretty good shape, but even if Sam had this guy beat in terms of height the guy's muscles were not to be sneezed at.
"For the last few days, anyway," the knight replied, looking solemnly at the children lying in front of them before he turned to look inquiringly at Dean. "You're... new in Camelot, aren't you?"
"Just passing through with my brother and a friend; we saw a child being carried out of their house when we arrived, and... well, thought we'd see what it was," Dean explained, before he held out his hand to the other man. "I'm Dean, by the way."
"Sir Percival," the other man replied, shaking Dean's hand politely.
Looking back, Dean was grateful that the first knight he met was a relatively 'low-key' one; he might have heard of Percival, but at the same time it wasn't like he was face-to-face with Gawain or Lancelot or someone like that (He'd been rather fond of the tale of Sir Gareth when he first heard it; the idea of the guy just coming in and taking out all those evil knights on his first quest had been kind of inspiring in its way)...
"So," he said, his initial surprise at the introduction being pushed aside as he turned the conversation back to the topic that mattered, "where did these attacks start?"
"Those afflicted with the sickness have all been found in the same area," Percival said, looking solemnly at the children before him. "Such things always strike the young..."
"Yeah, tell me about it..." Dean said, staring sadly at the kid before he walked away, nodding politely at Percival as he departed, walking through the hall as he took in the families around him, sobbing over the still forms of their children.
He'd managed to save the Shitriga's victims in his time when the thing had been hunting for a few weeks, but that was with the benefit of modern medicine to keep the multitude of diseases attacking them under control; if they didn't act fast, there was no way of knowing how long these kids could stay alive...
Sam hoped that he wasn't coming across as foolish as he felt he was right now; he might not have been as fond of the Arthur legend growing up as he was of some of the other tales he'd heard as a child, but the day anyone of their era didn't get at least slightly excited about the chance to see one of the most legendary kings and group of knights to ever exist in person was a day he doubted would ever come.
Maybe the situation could be better- from what he was hearing as he walked through this hall, none of the kids were showing obvious signs of improvement-, but as he stood there, inside the halls of Camelot, watching the knights of Camelot stand anxious guard over the people of Camelot, Sam had to fight to stop himself from grinning at the thought...
Suddenly, someone bumped into him from the side, and Sam's thoughts were derailed as he turned to look at the other person; he'd been so lost in thought as he kept on walking that he hadn't registered that he was walking into someone coming the other way. Focusing his attention back on the matter in front of him, he found himself in front of a young woman, approximately his age, with surprisingly dark skin and curled hair, dressed in a simple lilac dress with a white corset.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, smiling apologetically at him.
"It's all right; I wasn't paying attention," Sam said, shaking her hand as he smiled apologetically at her. "I'm... Samuel." (He might not feel entirely comfortable using his grandfather's name, but it would probably fit in with the local atmosphere more than 'Sam' would).
"Samuel?" the woman said, repeating the name as though testing it before she smiled back at him. "A pleasure to meet you; I'm Guinevere."
Only the knowledge that it would have attracted more attention stopped Sam from yanking his hand away from the woman before him in shock.
He was talking to Guinevere?
As in, the Queen- OK, judging by her simple-looking dress, either she was undercover to mingle with the common people for some reason or she wasn't queen yet, but she would still be Queen eventually- of Camelot?
It was official; he was not taking this conversation any further...
"Uh... I'm just gonna... go," he said, awkwardly indicating another part of the hall as he began to walk back, only to bump into someone from behind him. Turning around, he found himself facing an old man with a slightly bent back and scraggy white hair, with a weathered face that nevertheless gave an impression of warmth that put Sam in mind of Bobby.
"Is something wrong, young man?" the old man asked, looking curiously at him in a manner that again reminded Sam of Bobby; this guy might be old, but he was obviously still mentally as sharp as when he was younger.
"Just... the kids," Sam said, indicating the children lying around them as Guinevere- Guinevere!- walked off in another direction, thankfully apparently unconcerned about his abrupt attempt to leave. "I was just taking a closer look; it's always shocking how things can change so quickly..."
"You have some knowledge of illness?" the old man asked, looking curiously at Sam.
"Just... some of the basics I've picked up over the years; my friend Castiel is the healer of our group," Sam said, indicating where the angel was examining the children in silent contemplation; a part of Sam immediately regretted sharing so much with someone he'd only just met, but the rest of him felt comfortable sharing such information with the older man, as though he'd already assessed this man and decided that he could be trusted.
"Your 'group'?" the old man repeated curiously.
"Castiel, myself, and my brother," Sam replied; if he'd committed himself to making conversation, he might as well stick to the truth as much as possible while coming up with their cover story, considering the greater freedom they had to come up with their own stories right now. "We just arrived in Camelot today- we were passing through on our travels; we get around a lot-, saw the latest victim of this... sickness... being carried out of their house, and thought we'd find out what was happening, see if there was something we could do to help..."
"Ah," Gaius said, looking slightly uncertain at the story that he had just heard even as he seemed willing to accept it. "Well, we are still working on identifying the cause of the sickness..."
"Gaius?" a new voice said from behind Sam. "That tonic you mentioned...?"
"Oh, yes," the old man- Gaius, apparently- said, looking at the speaker behind Sam. "Pass me that bag, could you, Merlin?"
If realising that he'd been talking to a future Queen had been a shock, it was nothing compared to Sam's reaction when he registered the name that the old man had just used.
"Merlin?" he repeated, spinning around to look at the man standing behind him in shock.
"Yes?" the other man asked, looking at Sam inquiringly. Now that Sam was facing him, the speaker had a thin, clean-shaven face with long dark hair in a cut that put Sam in mind of his own hairstyle over piercing blue eyes, dressed in a red tunic and blue trousers, as well as a blue scarf around his neck. "Do I... know you?"
"No!" Sam said, before he calmed himself, laughing in a sheepish manner as he looked at the other man. "Just... unusual name, that's all."
"Uh... right," Merlin said, before he turned back to address Gaius, leaving Sam to walk away as quickly as possible without attracting too attention to himself, quickly beckoning Dean and Castiel over as he headed for a corner of the room.
"Good timing," Dean said as he joined the other two, smiling in satisfaction as he looked between them. "I was chatting with one of the knights- only Percival, but hey; Knight of the Round Table is a Knight of the Round Table-, and he mentioned that the kids who're getting sick are only getting sick in the part of the city where we entered; we focus on finding something there, we might be able to catch it."
"That... is as good a strategy as any," Castiel said.
"Hold on... 'as good a strategy as any'?" Sam said, his own news pushed aside as he looked at the angel, another thought occurring to him; they were so used to summoning Castiel for help after identifying what they were up against that the possibility of doing this hadn't occurred to Sam until now. "Couldn't you just search-?"
"My speed is one of the abilities that I have temporarily sacrificed to maintain my bond with Kilgharrah," Castiel clarified. "I can teleport if I possess a specific target to travel to or that I am looking for, but a search of the kind you are about to suggest is impossible in my present condition."
"Eh, we've done it this way before, and we'll do it again; no worries," Dean said, smiling reassuringly at Castiel before he looked at Sam. "What's your news?"
"I found Merlin," Sam replied, before turning to point at the young man currently handing out bottles to anxious-looking mothers.
"Where's- Hold on; Merlin's the kid?" Dean said, his eyes widening as he realised where Sam was pointing.
"Unless there's two people called Merlin running around Camelot, that's him," Sam confirmed.
"But-but-but what happened to the long robe?" Dean asked in desperate confusion. "And the beard, and the staff... god, does that kid even have an owl?"
"You think that's weird?" Sam asked- making a mental note to use the fact that Dean had evidently watched The Sword in the Stone in some later argument-, indicating the woman he'd spoken to earlier as she draped a blanket over one of the children. "That's Guinevere over there."
"Guinevere?" Dean repeated, looking at Sam incredulously, his voice briefly attracting stares from some of the people nearby before Dean lowered his voice again. "You spoke to the goddamn Queen?"
"She is not the Queen yet," Castiel corrected, looking over at the Winchesters even as he kept his voice low. "Arthur and Guinevere will marry by this time next year; at present, she is merely a close and trusted friend and advisor, although her official position in court is merely that of a servant."
"She's a servant?" Sam repeated, looking at Castiel in surprise before he shook his head in frustration. "OK, that's not important now; what's important is that... look, just tell us for certain; is that really Merlin over there?"
"I did inform you that Merlin was not what your popular culture has come to envision him as-" Castiel began.
"Yeah, but I assumed you meant that he didn't wear the long robe or something like that, not that he was a kid!" Sam said, sounding almost offended as he glanced over at where Merlin was handing herbs to the old man previously identified as Gaius. "Merlin's meant to be some wise old man; this guy barely looks like he's my age!"
"He occasionally uses an aging potion at this time when circumstances require him to use magic in public where he might run the risk of being recognised," Castiel commented. "In time, he will assume the appearance your stories envision him as possessing, but, for the moment, he is still mastering the finer details of his future destiny; at present, his raw potential outstrips his actual talent."
"Huh," Sam said, looking back at the man who'd now been identified as Merlin, a contemplative expression on his face before he shrugged and looked back at his brother and his friend. "Well, I guess we can't always expect history to be what it sounded like..."
"OK, talking of what history sounded like, that reminds me of something; how come we can understand these guys?" Dean asked, looking critically at the angel. "I mean, I know I never got past the GED, but shouldn't these guys all be speaking 'Ye Olde English' or whatever it was?"
"I modified your perceptions of spoken language when we travelled back," Castiel said.
"You what?" Dean asked, taking care to keep his voice low even as he glared with renewed intensity at the angel. "You screwed with our heads-?"
"Only to the extent that was required for you to perceive Zachariah and Joshua in Heaven," Castiel interjected, looking calmly at the eldest Winchester. "When we departed from our time to come to this one, I modified our perceptions so that you would be able to understand the language spoken here, while my link to Kilgharrah has allowed us to cast a low-level spell that slightly shifted the perceptions of those addressing you so that you will appear to be speaking their language just as they appear to be addressing us with terms that you are familiar with."
"Sounds... complicated," Sam said, stuck for anything else he could say in the face of Castiel's revelation.
"It was," Castiel confirmed. "However, it was the most straightforward way to deal with that issue; I did not have the time to fully plant knowledge of the language in your minds if we were to gain Merlin's aid in destroying the Cup of Life as soon as possible."
"Well... just so long as it doesn't mean we'll suddenly lose the ability to speak to everyone when we get back home," Dean said after a moment's awkward silence, shrugging helplessly out of a lack of anything else to do in this situation as he turned his attention back to the task at hand. "Anyway, on an immediate note, we've got the locations where the Shtriga's been feeding; what do you think?"
"Well, what I've heard- and assuming that most of these cases aren't just the children being in poor condition because of the health standards of the time, although I think we can all agree that the odds of all of them getting this sick by chance are still slim- matches what you found; it sounds like the Shtriga's been concentrating its attention on the area where we entered the city," Sam explained. "If we can keep an eye on that area, work out where the Shtriga's meant to strike next, we should be able to track it down..."
"Yeah, and then what?" Dean asked, tapping the side of his waist where he usually kept his gin. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I didn't bring the right weapons-"
"Consecrated iron is all that is required," Castiel interrupted. "If we can find a sufficiently sized piece of iron of the appropriate shape, I can bless it for the current purpose."
"Oh," Sam said, looking almost apologetic that he hadn't thought of that solution himself. "Well... that might work."
"Good as anything else we've got going for us right now," Dean said, as he indicated the door. "Come on; we've got to find some iron before night."
As the three of them left the hall, none of them noticed the eyes of the young man they had come so far to find following their departure, a quizzical expression on his face as he contemplated the tallest man's reaction to his name.
