A/N: Hello! I am very sorry about the very long wait. I suppose my excuses are that my laptop broke and I had to buy a new one, then I had to write a long essay, and lots of school stuff. Soo, I am really sorry about that, please allow me to send you free virtual fluffy kittens in apology!
On another note, DID YOU SEE THAT NEW DOCTOR WHO EPISODE(S)!? Okay, I just love peter capaldi (eyebrows) and clara. And NEW SUPERNATURAL; DEANNNNN, CASSSSS! Anyways enjoy.
PS: I am not the happiest with this chapter, it just did not want to write, so I am sorry again.
"I don't understand why you insist that I bring an iron sword; My steel can cut deeper than that useless lump of metal any day," Arthur said, frowning at the small iron sword that his manservant Merlin carried with him on his horse galloping beside the prince's.
Sam Winchester could hardly believe that he was currently riding a horse to go hunt a ghost in Camelot of all places, and giving the future King Arthur and the great sorcerer Merlin advice on killing the ghost. He was suddenly grateful for the short horseback riding lesson he had taken during his college years, as he could see Dean struggling intensely on the horse beside him. Clara and John seemed to be doing alright riding behind the Winchesters, especially considering they had kept themselves on their horses most of the time. The same could not be said for Dean, Sam was sure to note.
It was thanks to some persuasion from Gwen and Merlin, and eventually Arthur that King Uther had finally agreed to consider pardoning Sam, Dean, John, and Clara if they showed their loyalty by putting a stop to the recent murders, and by extension stopping the ghost, though Uther refused to acknowledge that rumor as true. Though Dean had argued for them to be able to bring weapons, the King would not agree to that, so Arthur and two knights rode armed with them into the other end of the city. It was still enclosed within the large stone walls of Camelot, though it did not carry the same sense of royalty that the castle did; the area was more open and busy, with ordinary people walking all over holding wheel barrels and buckets of various kinds and different sizes of buildings both wood and stone on either side of them. Sam thought it was like walking straight into a history book.
"The iron repels the ghost," Sam called out to Arthur, "That and salt are the only things we can use to defend ourselves against them."
"Salt!?" the prince questioned, furrowing his brows. "That's a bit ridiculous, isn't it?"
"Yeah, well…" Sam began, "Those can only repel them; to kill a ghost we need to find the remains and salt and burn it… or sometimes the spirit can latch on to an object if it held special meaning to the person when they were alive."
"So we need to find out who the ghost was when they were alive first, right?" Clara asked, as their horses turned another corner.
"Right," Sam confirmed, "If it is a ghost we first need to find where the body was buried."
"That sounds safe," commented Merlin.
The group headed across a row of houses stretching along the length of one of the large stone walls enclosing Camelot before stopping in front of a small one, made of crumbling stone.
When they reached it, Arthur dismounted first, followed by Merlin and the others. Sam watched Dean frowning at his horse and offered a hand to help him dismount.
"No, I've got this, I'm fine," Dean mumbled, pushing one of his legs over the horse and awkwardly stumbling off of it, nearly colliding with Sam.
Sam stifled his laughter as Dean commented his strong dislike of the large furry creatures.
"Alright, everyone!" Arthur called out to the group, as Merlin fastened the iron sword onto the prince's belt. "This is where the latest murder has taken place… it is the last of four other bodies found along this section of the city," he gestured to the length of the wall, and his face turned serious "Because we are not going to let this happen again. We must stop whoever… or whatever is responsible for killing our people. If you help me do this and prove your innocence, you will not only help prevent any more innocents from being killed, but I will personally vouch for you in getting my father to pardon you all."
Sam stared in amazement at the man as he made his speech, as he envisioned this man as the fabled King Arthur of Camelot that he had read about and seen movies about. It was surreal, and Sam found himself smiling at him like a gleeful child who had just met Santa Claus and found him to be just as fantastic if not better than what he had expected.
"To ensure we cover all possible angels, and prevent any other murders as soon as possible," Arthur continued, "We will spilt up into groups."
Sam heard Dean groan from beside him, and Sam elbowed him in response.
"It's a good plan, Dean!" Sam argued, quietly.
"You're just saying that because he's the prince of Camelot."
Sam glared at Dean intensely, not choosing to dignify Dean's response with an answer, before choosing to be the stronger person, and going back to paying attention to the Prince's instructions.
"… then I'll lead a group to the left." The man pointed down the length of the side of the city's walls. "That group will try and find the ghost and prevent any attacks while we are here… then, another group will stay here and try and figure out the identity of the attacker… or where his body is… or salt?...whatever you need to find…"
The prince paused, while Merlin poked him slightly and whispered something in his ear.
"Right," Arthur began, again, gesturing to his manservant, "This is Merlin, and he will be leading the second group, with a few knights… so if you think just because he's leading you, you can escape Camelot…" He trailed off as said manservant stood on his foot. "Umm… I will take your most experienced… err… with ghosts?"
Sam and Dean shared a brief look.
"We should split up, Dean."
Dean frowned.
"I know we shouldn't get separated back and time and everything, but I don't trust any of these people with ghosts." Sam elaborated.
Dean sighed. "Alright, I'll go with Prince Charming over here. You just make sure you find the body."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, be careful."
"When am I not careful?" Dean grinned and walked over to Arthur, caused Sam to roll his eyes.
"I'll go with Merlin," Sam then called out to Arthur, "I can help find the remains…" He glanced at John and Clara standing together beside him. "John and Clara will come with me as well." Sam was unsure how the two would deal with fighting a ghost, and decided that it was safer to take them with him.
John protested slightly at that. "I fought in Afghanistan—"
"Yes!" Sam interrupted loudly as Arthur began to furrow his brows at John, "But I need you and Clara to help me investigate the crime…"
The shorter man frowned at Sam, but still agreed. "Alright, I'll help you."
Sam glanced at Clara expectantly.
"Umm… yeah!" Clara said, "Good, we'll help find the body."
"Okay, everyone!" Arthur called out finally, "You have your orders. Let's stop this… ghost, or whatever it may be." He turned to Merlin. "Don't let them get out of your sight," Sam heard Arthur whisper to Merlin, "And make sure to call for the guards if anything weird—"
"Yeah, yeah! Alright, I can handle it on my own, Arthur, I'm not entirely useless," Merlin protested.
Arthur raised a brow at Merlin. "Are you sure about that? You only think you're a bit useless?"
"No… I don't—" Merlin frowned deeply and glared at the prince. "Well, you're a royal dollophead!"
"That's not even a thing, Merlin, what does that mean?" Arthur returned, walking over to his horse.
"It means… it's you!" Merlin responded back.
"Will you two stop arguing like five year olds, and help me!" Dean shouted loudly, "My horse is—" Sam tried to hold back his laughter as he heard muffled cursing as Dean was thrown off the horse and onto the dirt ground awkwardly, one of his feet still stuck in the saddle for a moment, until he could dislodge it. After getting up, and wiping some of the dirt off the front of his shirt Dean glared grumpily at all the faces staring at him, as if daring them to say anything.
Sam just followed Merlin and the others over to the house, hoping his brother would not kill himself on horseback before a ghost could get a chance to attack him.
"Merlin?" Sam called ahead to the man as they approached, very curious about the abilities of Arthur's manservant.
"Yeah?" the man looked at Sam expectantly.
"Oh, uhh, I was just going to say that we should focus on finding the identity of the possible ghost, so we can search for the body. So, what do you know about the case?"
"Right," Merlin replied, "Well, this is the Dreygon family house. We've got several sightings of a ghost dressed in all armor along the length of this wall. The newest body we've got is Paul Dreygon, who died in the house in what looks like a stab wound to the chest, only he was locked inside his bedroom at the time, and when his sister came up to beg the king to stop the murders, she said that nothing on the door or any entrance to his room was disturbed."
"Okay," Sam said, thinking, "Well, we'll need to ask her some questions along with any others around the area at the time."
"John, Clara," Sam called to the two, "When we get in there, Merlin and I can ask questions to her, while you two check the room. If you find any cold spots, salt trails or even ectoplasm it may be evidence of a ghost… and check for any sulfur for demons just in case."
Dean walked brusquely after Arthur, holding out a torch that he had surprisingly been allowed to wield after much debate, because it was beginning to get dark, and in the stone walls of Camelot in whatever century this was long ago, the only light available were the various torches aligned along the walls. Dean was beginning to appreciate the simple pleasure to electric lighting, and perhaps, he thought distantly, running water.
He was starting to think that their trek along the wall was going to be endless when he nearly collided with the prince in front of him, who had stopped suddenly.
"What?" Dean questioned.
"The sword," Arthur said, and Dean looked in front of them to find an empty mound along the wall. "It's missing."
"What sword?"
"The famous sword of Sir Doran, who died defending the city when the sorcerers attacked."
Dean frowned. "Well, I don't really know that that's our problem right now, we should focus on—" Dean stopped mid-sentence when he saw the ghost. It was dressed from head to toe in a knight's armor, which was battered and dented in the ghostly form. It held a sword. Dean could only make a guess as to what sword it was.
"You really spoke to soon!" Arthur said, unsheathing the iron sword as they had instructed him.
"Yeah, story of my life," Dean said, backing up and holding his torch out for lack of a better weapon.
Dean watched as Arthur quickly deflected a blow by the ghost, its sword contacting his with force and confirming that sword was indeed not part of the ghostly apparition. Before the ghost could stop him, the prince jabbed his sword in the ghost's gut and it immediately disappeared.
"You were right about the iron," Arthur said, facing Dean.
"Yeah, don't get too cocky though, because it's not gone until you burn its bones. It can—"
Unsurprisingly, Dean was cut off again as the knight's ghost reappeared. Arthur lunged forward as he turned around, but it was too late, as his sword contacted the ghost's at an awkward angle the force of the hit contacted Arthur in the stomach. Though he was protected by his chainmail, he fell to the ground, unconscious due to the force of the blow.
Dean cursed as the ghost now faced him. He ducked quickly to avoid one blow, sending the ghost careening towards a wall. Dean took this opportunity to grab the iron sword by Arthur's foot, just in time. He raised his sword to block the ghost's next blow and its sword slammed into Dean's sword forcefully again, and Dean felt it slide out of his sweaty grip, sparks flying from the contact. Dean stepped backwards with the force of the blow, his right foot catching on a fallen broom, and he stumbled backwards onto the hay covered floor. Dean felt panic rising in his chest as the ghost raised the incredibly real sword above its helmet covered face, and he instinctively threw his hands up in the air above his face as the sword began to delve towards him.
