CHAPTER 11
Hello again my wonderful readers! Thanks to all who left comments, you guys are very kind and I love hearing what you have to say! I'm very sorry for the delay with updating, it's been a wild ride for me over here. Things might be a little spotty in the future as well, but I'll try to update as regularly as I can. Getting a career started is a lot of chaos.
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*ARTHUR'S POV*
He is in the middle of a strange magical city with nowhere to go. No idea how to get home. Completely and utterly lost.
The new clothes the kind strangers gave him feel much more comfortable in the blaring heat of the sun than his wet armour. More comfortable than his tunic and breeches back home even. He can't help but to run his fingers appreciatively over the soft material of the shirt. He'll have to send his knights back with payment when he finds his way home. He's curious to hear what the knights would think about this city of magic. If they would find it frightening, like his father would, or wonderful and incredible. He can almost see the stars glistening in Merlin's eyes as he takes in the city for a second time. Merlin would love it here.
He continues to wander around the pathway through the unusual town, eyes wide and trying desperately to take everything in. When more metal beasts race by frightfully close to his person he decides it best to take some time to safely process everything. A tavern! They must have some sort of tavern I can stay in. He casts his eyes around at the signs on the shop fronts. Nothing is in any language he can understand.
Reaching his hands into the bag filled with his own attire he searches for some coins. His hand comes back empty and damp. The thought of spending a night under the stars in this uncertain land is daunting. What if he is attacked? He's alone and everyone here has magic. The druids are a peaceful people, but he doesn't suspect this town of being a druid base. Surely he is farther away from Camelot than he has ever before ventured.
Realizing he has no other choice, he makes his way back to the uncanny forest with fond thoughts of a soft patch of grass. He'll have to rest with his sword out, but at least no one seems threatening. He is doubly reassured at the sight of a small child playing with their parents a couple trees next to his parking spot. Privacy might not be an option with people in every direction he looks, but there appears to be no bandits or foreign knights.
He allows his eyes to unfocus and slows his breathing. Too dangerous to sleep alone in these conditions, a short meditative rest is all he is willing to do. A bird chirps to his left and he startles with a grunt. Without thought, his hand tightly clasps the hilt of his sword partly hidden underneath his bag. His nerves are frayed.
After exactly six more jump scares by unusually domesticated squirrels and birds, Arthur finally deems rest impossible. He straightens out his back against the tree and scans his surroundings.
Several hours pass by lost deep in thought over his predicament. If I'm not dead, than how long was I out for? Where is in the name of Camelot is Merlin and how did I get here? Does Gwen think I'm dead? How do I get home? His bottom lip is run haggard as he clamps down on it with his teeth. The only solace he finds is in the thought that at least his kingdom will be well tended in his absence. Queen Guinevere is the best choice of successor he could have chosen.
After contemplating his choices and hashing out an action plan, Arthur decides his top priority is to find Merlin. He cannot go back to Camelot without him. Not to mention he can then have him explain everything to him. His was the last face he saw, unless I'm dead, surely this place is where he took him to be healed. Merlin does have the tendency to disappear at the most random and inconvenient times. He pauses at that thought. Merlin was off doing magic. All those times in a fight he vanished. All those times he snuck off shirking his duties.
The sheer number of times Merlin disappeared or acted strangely suddenly hit Arthur square in the face. He did a lot of illegal magic. How in the world did he manage to have time for everything? And frequent trips to the tavern on top of it all. Well… I suppose if I had all of that stress from performing illegal magic and hiding it from everyone all the time I'd want to drown out my worries every night as well.
If he really is the one who brought me here, why is he not here with me now? Why did I get tossed out of the lake by other sorcerers? Is he captured? Arthur's brows furrow in concern. He will find him if that is the case.
The soft shuffle of shoes on grass cause him to clench his sword tighter. He squints his eyes trying to make sense of the stooped figure approaching in the now darkened landscape.
His body tenses all over in the effort to restrain himself from standing up and brandishing his weapon. Best to stay seated in hopes to be avoided. If he looks like he belongs there he might be ignored.
As the figure nears, Arthur relaxes back again. The old woman smiles kindly at him, her clothing is layered in many scarves and her white hair curls madly in every direction. Her face is open and her eyes look honest. For reasons he cannot explain, Arthur cannot help but trust her. He glares in her direction, upset with himself for his body's automatic response to be at ease in the woman's presence.
The old woman rests her weight on her metal cane as she gazes down at him, her smile now slightly sad. "You must be new around here." Her voice is soft and warm, like a steady hearth in the harsh winter.
Not knowing how to respond or what answer might give himself away, he simply nods his head, relieved that he can understand her.
"I get there are not many places 'round, but they don't allow anyone to sleep out here. The ecilop come by often to check."
Wondering desperately who "they" are, Arthur settles with a simple "Oh".
She tilts her head to the side and looks him over for a moment. Arthur wonders if he will be recognized. He's still not entirely sure if he should start panicking yet or not when the old woman appears to have made up her mind about something and takes a step closer.
Arthur deliberately affirms his grip on his sword, concerned at his otherwise lack of military response to the stranger in front of him. Why do I trust her?
An old dark hand reaches out to him in an offering. "Well if you have no other place to go, I guess I can keep you up in my eraps bedroom a elpuoc days. Certainly safer than out here." She casts a weary eye upward and Arthur finds himself tilting his head to see. Just the cloudy night sky. Weird.
Arthur finds himself taking her hand and standing without actually making the conscious decision to do so. At contact with her hand, he cannot help the inexplicable feeling of relief that courses through him. Purely out of habit, he squints his eyes trying to make out any sign of danger in their surroundings.
She guides him back out of the green and into the city. "I don't get company very often. Especially strangers. But one does get bored in old age, and I cannot help but find myself trusting you." Her eyes look black and clear under the magical city lights. So she feels it too. Huh.
Arthur offers her a small smile, still too uncertain about where he is being lead and what will come next. Yet the promise of a warm bed and the oddly comforting presence of the old woman push him forward.
"It's really not safe to be out at night. Yllaicepse alone." Her expression is serious.
Arthur is thankful she doesn't ask any questions, just continues to lead him to where he assumes is her home, hand wrapped snugly around his. Nodding his head at when he assumes is the appropriate time in their conversation, he spares a moment to think of the last time he was lead somewhere by hand like this. He feels like a child.
As the occasional metal beast pass them by, Arthur tries his hardest to not stare or flinch. He keeps his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings, taking in all of the bizarre sights. Strangely coloured lights shine from inside windows. Colours Arthur has never seen in light before. Weird muffled sounds and a rumbling come from one of the buildings. The old lady spares that window a disapproving look as they pass by.
He quickly closes his mouth when he realizes he left it dangling open for the bugs.
The old lady turns and leads him down one of the side streets and towards a menacing monstrosity of a building. That is a truly impressive castle. Is she Nobility? He assesses her again. Doesn't dress like it. A huge fortress of shiny glass windows and finely polished metal jut out into the sky. He cranes his head back but still cannot make out the top of it in the darkness. His mouth is open again.
He jumps slightly as two massive glass windows move seemingly on their own, opening up like doors to grant them entry to the castle. Arthur spares the old woman another look. More magic. Is everyone here a sorcerer? Just how many are there? Was everyone I knew secretly doing magic? Is it really that common?
The woman meets his eyes with a knowing look and the corner of her mouth pulls up.
The inside of the building is equally as odd and impressive as the outside. Tall polished stone walls with several identical metal knobless doors line the hallway. She reaches her boney and wrinkled hand to push on a small magically lit circle between two doors. Arthur startles again at the sound of a high pitched metallic beep.
One of the doors slides into the wall of its own accord and he is lead into a tiny mirrored room. The doors close again behind them. Arthur's shoulders tense. "We're on the 30th floor. You'll love the view." She pushes on another round light on a wall covered in rows of them and the colour changes.
He looks at the reflection of himself and the old woman in the mirror. Why do I trust this old Witch? Her eyes meet his and she gives his hand a reassuring squeeze, as if she can read his thoughts. Can she read my thoughts? Is that a thing? Why did she lead me to this mirror closet? It doesn't feel like a trap.
Abruptly he feels the floor beneath him shift upwards and he reaches an arm out to steady himself. The old lady doesn't move or look the least bit concerned as the sensation continues and Arthur forces himself to relax and control his breathing. She must have noticed his eyes widen as she smiles again.
"Wonderful isn't it? And suoiruc? How muggles can manage to create such wonderful things without the use of magic. Makes one wonder why we don't share a little more, yeah?"
Arthur is completely baffled. What is a muggle? And did she just insinuate that this moving room is without magic? Are they sliding down a hill? But it feels distinctly like going up. Is this a pulley like in the mines? Doesn't seem like one.
All of a sudden the movement stops and the beep sounds again. Arthur's stomach flips repeatedly and he swallows down against the taste of bile. The doors open again and he stumbles out on unsteady feet. His mind is in a haze as he is lead down identical hall after hall illuminated by the same dim orbs on the wall. Finally the old woman stops at a door, pulls out a key and opens it. She gestures for him to step inside.
His hand tightly clutches his sword, bracing for the unknown as he takes his first step inside the sorcerer's home. He's met by vibrant colours in every direction. Pink and orange scream at his eyes from the wall in front of him. Multiple ornate frames with remarkably realistic paintings hang proudly from every wall. The floor is a dark polished wood, unmarred and gleaming. He scoots out of the way as the old lady squeezes in behind him.
"Take off your shoes before you come in dear. Don't want smerg." Arthur silently complies and places them next to hers on a weird looking grey mat. The floor feels warm under his feet.
The elder woman proceeds to usher Arthur around her home, announcing the title of each room as they enter. The colours and plush fabrics of her furniture, as well as the sheer size of her dwelling indicate that she belongs to nobility. Or is at least a wealthy merchant. He pointedly ignores the mysterious contraptions placed throughout. And the room full of nothing but weird metal boxes and a humming noise. Definitely not thinking about that.
No servants, knights, or family members are in any of the rooms. Who is this old woman to bring a stranger into her home alone? His brain tells him he should be screaming danger about now, yet he feels nothing. Well, not nothing. He feels safe.
Is this magic? Is my mind being controlled? He flexes his hands discreetly. Doesn't feel like it.
"And this here can be your room for now. Litnu we get you sorted at least." The room is a truly spectacular assortment of blues and greens, the bed by the wall is modest, yet long enough for a grown man and the outer wall is entirely glass. The view is dizzying. The city below is a breathtaking assortment of tiny lights against the dark of night. Like the brightest stars, yet here on earth. How are we so high up?
"Thank you my kind lady." He brings her hand up to his face for a polite kiss in thanks. He has nothing else to offer her.
"It's always better to have ynapmoc. Friends can be hard to come by in times such as these. Please call me Ethel. What's your name dear?" Her expression is kind and unguarded.
"Arthur."
"Well Arthur, I suspect you're hungry, but it's rather late for me to be making food. Please help yourself to the leftovers in the egdirf, I'll make selffaw for breakfast." Arthur blinks in confusion, but nods when he realises she is waiting for confirmation. "Please make yourself at home. I should have a spare hsurbhtoot in the bathroom if you need."
Having absolutely no clue as to what she is referring to Arthur nods yet again. "Thank you for your kindness my lady." He adds a small bow for good measure.
"Of course dear. I'm off to bed now, so I'll see you in the morn'n." Ethel gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder and disappears around the corner.
Arthur sets his soggy bag in the corner next to the bed sparing a moment to consider the rust that is bound to accumulate on his armour. Merlin will have his work cut out for him when he finds him. If he even chooses to stay his manservant. Arthur scrunches up his face and expels those confusing and stressful thoughts. Now is not the time.
His stomach growls in protest at his long and foodless day. Ethel mentioned food, but he can't even begin to guess where it is stored. He recalls the room dubbed "bathroom" and the wondrous running water and bowl he spotted in it. A nice long drink would be incredible.
He grabs a small dagger out of his bag, stuffing it between the top of his breaches and the soft flesh of his back. He pulls his shirt down to cover it. The notion of roaming a castle unarmed is a dangerous one. He had spotted no signs of another person in Ethel's estate, but he will not be caught unprepared.
Taking a deep breath, he ventures out of his new chambers and down the hallway. He stops at the door to the 'bathroom' and tentatively opens it. White orbs on the wall burst to life after several seconds upon entering the room and Arthur jumps out of his skin. On high alert, he spins around for the sorcerer behind him. Damn they have silent feet. But he is met with nothing. The hall is empty. Quickly he closes the door, barricading it with the bulk of his body.
His breathing is heavy as he strains his ears for the inevitable sound of someone stalking by outside the hall, but several moments pass and there is still nothing. Finally he allows himself to relax and step away from the door.
This bathroom is much nicer than the one at the tailors'. The perfect mirror is framed in sleek back, the white water bowl set inside of a polished and gleaming stone counter. He tries out the metal dials and is pleased to note that they work the same as the other he's encountered.
He gulps down large mouthfuls of the remarkably clear water and turns off the stream.
The act of drinking water serve to remind him that he had not had the chance to relieve himself in the forest before Ethel brought him in. Not recalling the location or even existence of the latrines or chamberpots in this castle from the tour, he scratches his head in confusion. Surely they have a room where they go to relieve themselves. This town is the cleanest he has ever encountered, they must have a system other than just hiding behind local shrubbery.
He looks around the room for the off chance of discovering a clue, but the only other thing in there is a shiny white tub and a matching white seat. The tub looks different, yet not completely foreign. King Olaf had a similarly shaped one in his castle Arthur remembers from one of the times he had been sent on his father's behalf to settle affairs. But the white chair is new.
Arthur approaches the chair and notices the seat is not attached at all sides. He carefully lifts it up, not wanting to break anything. Fastened to the chair at the back, the top lifts like a chest lid.
Arthur's eyebrows disappear in his hair line when he discovers the seat is in fact a bowl filled with water. Well that was unexpected. He reaches down and tests it with his hand. Cold. Very cold.
He notices that the seat-bowl also has a whole in the bottom. An idea hits him and he looks around the seat for another metal knob. He discovers a metal handle and pulls it in either direction until something happens. He stares transfixed as the water empties down the hole with a whoosh and fills up again. He does this several times in wonder.
But why would you need a seat with water in it? And changeable water at that? Why would you drink out of a chair? He looks over at the water-bowl under the mirror and something clicks into place. Oh.