Another absurdly long chapter. This is becoming a very bad habit...
Arthur didn't know how long he wandered aimlessly through the streets of the lower town, struggling to get his misery and anger at the unfairness of it all under control, though he guessed it must have been at least an hour or two; by the time he was able to face returning to the castle, he had the sense that it was very late. He expected - and hoped - that everyone else would be asleep, but when he reached his chambers, he found Merlin inside, still wide awake and pacing the length of the room.
"Where have you been?" he demanded the instant he caught sight of Arthur. "It's long past your bedtime!"
"I'm the prince, Merlin; I don't have a bedtime," Arthur said automatically. "Why are you still here?"
"You never showed up after dinner. Morgana said you were there and that you seemed fine, but she didn't know where you went afterward. Nobody did."
"Were you...worried about me?" Arthur felt a pang of guilt, not having considered the possibility of anyone noticing or being alarmed by his absence, before reminding himself that he didn't have to answer to his servant.
"Of course I was worried, you prat! If you hadn't come back in the next ten minutes, I was going to organize a search party."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't. I went to see Guinevere."
"You were at Gwen's house?" Merlin was so surprised by this that it knocked the indignation right out of him. "What were you doing there at this hour?" Thanks to Bo, he could think of one reason for a late-night visit, but since Gwen wasn't a succubus, he was sure she would never engage in such behavior, nor would Arthur ever dishonor her so. Besides, he had just noticed that the prince looked extremely depressed - hardly the mood he would have expected if anything sexual had transpired between them.
Arthur sat heavily on his bed, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast, and spoke so quietly that at first Merlin thought he must have misheard him. "I ended it with her."
"What? You- Why would you do that?"
"Because she deserves more than I can give her." Arthur looked up, and although pain was etched in every line of his features, his resolve was just as clear. "She deserves to be courted properly, openly, by someone who can actually marry her, and Morgana said-"
"Morgana? What does she have to do with this?" As far as Merlin was aware, she knew nothing of Arthur's and Gwen's feelings for one another, and if she had discussed the matter with Arthur over dinner, surely she would have mentioned it when he went to ask if she had any idea of her foster brother's whereabouts.
"She mentioned that there had been an attraction between Lancelot and Guinevere while thanking my father for letting him stay, and said she thinks they would still be a good match." He sighed, his air of sadness deepening. "And she's right."
"But you love Gwen," Merlin protested, "and she loves you, I can tell. Tomorrow you're going to tell her you made a huge mistake and-"
"It's too late for that," Arthur said sharply. "It wasn't easy convincing her to give up on me. I said things - necessary things, perhaps, but untrue...and unforgivable. There's no going back now."
His words were filled with such finality that Merlin knew any further argument would be useless, and even though he still thought Arthur was being an idiot, he was also proud of him for putting Gwen's welfare (as he saw it) ahead of his own desires, no matter how badly it hurt him to let her go. The spoiled prince Merlin had first seen throwing knives at a harried squire never would have done that.
"I don't agree with your decision," he said at last, "but I see that you did what you thought was right, and I respect that. Gwen made you a better person."
"She did," Arthur agreed in a slightly choked voice. Then, feeling that the conversation had become far too emotional, he forced himself to lighten up. "Now that I don't have her anymore, I suppose it'll be up to you to make sure I don't backslide."
"I'm not sure keeping you humble is a one-person job," Merlin replied seriously, "but I'll give it my best effort. You can do your own chores tomorrow, and I'll take the day off."
"What? I didn't say you could- Merlin, get back here!"
###
Despite his stated intention to take the following day off, Merlin did in fact show up to help Arthur get ready for his training session. Meanwhile, Bo and Kenzi joined Lancelot in doing the same for Dyson, with Morgana tagging along for lack of anything else to do; Gwen was absent, having sent word with a friend who worked in the kitchens that she wasn't feeling well, and Morgana planned to check on her later, but for now she thought it best to let Gwen rest.
In the meantime, she distracted herself by lecturing Dyson on the importance of chainmail; he had never worn armor before and regarded it as an unnecessary encumbrance, but he soon gave in and put it on, his eagerness to get out on the training field outweighing his dislike of the requisite attire. "It's been too long since I had a decent fight," he remarked, shifting restlessly while she and Lancelot checked the fit of his mail shirt.
Breaking off her exposition on how armor could save his life one day, Morgana frowned. "It's only been four days since you were in Hengist's fortress, hasn't it?"
"That's correct, my lady," Lancelot confirmed.
Dyson nodded, flashing her a grin that showed more than a hint of his feral side. "As I said, too long."
Hearing that from where they stood off to the side, Kenzi tugged worriedly on Bo's sleeve and whispered, "Hey Bobo, am I the only one suddenly having doubts about turning the wolfman loose on a bunch of unsuspecting newbie knights?"
"Huh? Why?"
Kenzi raised her eyebrows at her friend's obliviousness. "Don't you remember what Trickster told us about what Dyson and his pack buddies used to do for kicks?"
"You mean the part about pounding their king's enemies into bloody sacks of meat?" Bo recalled, a look of alarm flashing across her face. "Okay, I see your point. So, Dyson," she said more loudly as she moved closer to him, "I guess you saw a lot of pretty intense action in your Fae-lid Lakers days, huh?"
"You could say that," he replied with a slight scoff at her mispronunciation of his former clan's name, as well as the gross understatement in her inquiry. "There were days when we fought from sunrise well into the night, and when we stopped the ground was littered with the bodies of our fallen enemies as far as the eye could see..."
"That's great," Bo cut in while trying not to imagine how many bodies that would take, or to pay too much attention to the note of nostalgia in his voice as he described the carnage, "but, uh, you know this is just a sparring match, right? That means no one's supposed to die."
"I'm aware of that, thank you."
"Or get maimed, mauled, mutilated, or seriously injured," Kenzi piped up. "Remember, we humans don't heal as fast as you."
Dyson frowned; never having fought a human he didn't intend to kill before, he hadn't thought of that. If they were so fragile, maybe they really did need the silly metal suits they insisted on wearing into battle - or even a mere practice fight. "I'll keep that in mind," he promised, doing his best to hide his disappointment. If they can't even spar without all this to protect them, it seems I won't be able to have much fun with them after all.
###
Once Dyson was properly outfitted, they all headed down to the yard, where Arthur began the session by reviewing some basic drills. Morgana watched with avid interest and drew Bo in as well with her whispered commentary - not that she needed to whisper, it was just a convenient excuse for them to sit closer together - but Kenzi was soon squirming in her seat.
"I'm gonna go visit the hydration station," she announced ten minutes later. Bo and Morgana offered no objections - in fact, they hardly seemed to notice her getting up; she had forgotten how annoying it could be when Bo was all wrapped up in a new romance - so she made her way down to where Merlin and Lancelot were standing next to a water barrel, waiting to provide refreshment to the men on the field.
"Thirsty, my lady?" asked Lancelot, who was closer.
Kenzi nodded, taking a tin cup off the stack and holding it out. "Hit me."
He ladled water into her cup, then went back to watching the drills.
"I hope they get to some real action soon," Kenzi commented in between sips. "All this fancy footwork is sooo boring."
"It may seem tedious, but it's very important. I've seen men who had great skill with a blade felled because they allowed their footing to falter at a crucial moment. Take the one over to the right there - he's leaning too far forward, putting too much weight on the balls of his feet, which makes it likely that-" At that moment, the recruits lunged forward as one, bringing their swords up to strike at imaginary enemies, and the overeager young man pitched over, falling flat on his face. "-Something like that will happen."
Kenzi stifled a laugh as the trainee scrambled back to his feet, his face bright red. "You should be out there instead of Captain Klutz; I bet you'd totally crush Footwork 101. That's what you want, isn't it?"
Lancelot nodded, still gazing wistfully out at the field. "It's all I've ever wanted. Ever since I was a young boy, I dreamed of proving myself worthy to join the legendary knights of Camelot."
"That's cool," Kenzi said, taking in the look of longing on his face with interest. "Having a dream like that, I mean. Reminds me of this guy I knew before Bo and I were fae-napped and brought here; I mean, I knew him before then - he lived next door to me when I was little, but we'd just reconnected. His name was Nate." She sighed, wondering what might have happened between them if she hadn't been catapulted into another era. While she liked to think of herself as too savvy to be easily swept off her feet, hanging with him had been pretty great.
The melancholy note in her voice got Lancelot's attention, making him turn away from the yard. "And this Nate also wanted to become a knight?"
"Uh, no. He was a musician - a really good one - and he wanted to travel around the country and have people come to see him play, you know?" She wasn't sure those words adequately described Nate's dream, but she didn't quite know how to explain the rock star lifestyle to Lancelot.
"You mean he wanted to be a minstrel? And you say I remind you of him?" Lancelot asked, bemused.
"Well, not the music part," Kenzi said once she'd stopped giggling at the mental image of how Nate would react to being called a minstrel. "He was just really passionate about it, like you are about being a knight, and I think it's cool to have a dream you're that into. I've never really had one," she confessed in an uncharacteristically quiet, sober tone while scuffing at the grass with her shoe and watching how her skirt rippled with the movement. "Like, at the fifth grade career fair, when all the other kids were all hyped about wanting to be astronauts or whatever, I was always the one with zero clue what I wanted to be when I grew up."
"Who says you have to decide?" Lancelot asked in an effort to cheer her up. "After all, it's not as if you need to worry about making your way in the world. For now, you're a guest of King Uther, and when you marry, your husband will provide for all your needs."
Kenzi had looked up at him when he started speaking, and at first his words did seem to have the desired effect, but when he mentioned her future husband providing for her, her mouth fell open as if he'd said something shocking and offensive rather than stating a basic fact of life. "Dude," she said indignantly, "I thought we were having a moment here, and it really blows that you had to go and ruin it with your casual medieval chauvinism shtick." Slamming her cup down so hard that the others nearly jumped off the stool they were stacked on, she stormed back toward the stands.
Thoroughly bewildered, Lancelot turned to Merlin, who was eyeing him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. "What did I say?"
###
By the time Kenzi got back to her seat, the action on the field had picked up, with the recruits progressing to actual sparring. As expected, Dyson made short work of his first three opponents, so Arthur began pairing him with older, more experienced knights, but it made no difference; as a fae, Dyson was stronger and faster than all of them, and he wasn't shy about showing it.
"The men you've trained don't seem to be much of a match for Sir Dyson, do they?" Morgana called out as Arthur walked in front of the stands, unwilling to let any opportunity to needle him pass her by. "If you need help, I can fetch my sword."
"That won't be necessary," Arthur replied through gritted teeth. Not only was it embarrassing to see his men bested so easily by a foreigner, he was in no mood for Morgana's taunts. Even though she'd made some excellent points and he knew she'd had no idea what she was sticking her nose into, he couldn't help blaming her for the end of his relationship with Gwen. The worst part of it was that, since she didn't know what she had done, he couldn't confront her; he needed to find another outlet for his resentment. Luckily, there was a readily available one right in front of him.
"Sir Dyson," he said loudly, picking up his sword and striding onto the field, "what would you say to sparring with me?"
Dyson eyed him appraisingly as several people who'd heard Arthur's challenge turned to stare at them; the prince held an advantage in that he had just watched Dyson face off against half a dozen different people while Dyson had yet to see Arthur actually fight, which also meant he'd expended less of his energy, but that was no deterrent to someone accustomed to long, grueling battles. The fact that Arthur was a close friend of Bo and Merlin, however, caused him some concern. True to the promise he'd made Kenzi, he had barely touched his previous opponents, ending his matches with them quickly, decisively, and bloodlessly, but he could tell Arthur wouldn't be satisfied with that.
"All right," he said at last, and everyone who was still trying to act like they were doing anything other than watching the upcoming match promptly abandoned the pretense, retreating to the outer edges of the training area. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you. Wouldn't want to mess up that pretty face."
"Worry about your own face," Arthur retorted, the pugnacious glint in his eyes intensifying. "As prince of Camelot, I'm ordering you to show me everything you've got."
"Well, you've got guts, I'll give you that," Dyson acknowledged with a grin as they began circling one another. "With all that armor you wear, you might even get to keep them inside your body."
Up in the stands, Bo and Kenzi exchanged amused looks; neither of them had realized the time-honored tradition of trash-talking one's rival in any kind of sporting contest went back quite this far.
Without warning, Dyson lunged, forcing Arthur back half a step, but he recovered quickly, bringing his sword up in time to expertly parry the strike. "You're good," the wolf observed as they went back to circling, eyeing each other with increased wariness and respect now that they had crossed blades. "Your reflexes are the best I've seen in a...someone so young."
"You too," Arthur replied. "You're very strong, though I can tell you don't just rely on brute force; almost everyone I've ever fought gives away their next move in some way, but I can honestly say your attack caught me by surprise. Your technique could use some refining, though. Who trained you?"
"No one, really. The children of my clan were encouraged to play at fighting amongst ourselves, then when we were old enough we were handed weapons and thrown into battle. There was no knighting ceremony either, but I'd say I earned my place among our warriors. I'm still alive."
Arthur was taken aback to hear how different the older man's upbringing had been from that of a typical knight, how harsh and unstructured, and Dyson took advantage of his surprise, going on the offensive once more. Arthur responded with the same speed and skill as before, but this time Dyson pressed his attack relentlessly, their blades clashing again and again. The prince handled the onslaught surprisingly well - much better than Dyson would have expected from someone he perceived as a pampered royal brat - even managing to get in a number of blows of his own, and the wolf began to think he might actually be a worthy opponent.
Part of him even entertained the idea that maybe the pup deserved to win - after all, his talent probably would have allowed him to prevail against a human adversary in a similar situation - but then, Dyson wasn't human. Why should he pretend to be less than he was just to bolster the ego of a boy who had lived his entire life in a palace and had probably never fought in a real war, where the fighting went on for weeks at a time and so much blood was spilled that it took several days to get the stench of death out of your nose?
With that thought in mind, he brought his blade against Arthur's yet again, forcing the younger man's sword out to the side, then reversed his grip on his own weapon in a lightning-fast motion and smashed the hilt into Arthur's hand, almost causing the prince to drop his sword, though he just managed to hang on to it by the tips of his fingers. Before he could recover enough to get back in the fight, however, Dyson landed a punch to his jaw that sent him sprawling flat on his back, then kicked his sword away.
Shock ran through the crowd of onlookers like an electrical current; it wasn't the first time someone had gotten the better of Arthur on the training field, but it had been quite a while since they'd seen him beaten in such spectacular fashion. Even Morgana, who normally relished the all-too-rare occasions when he got taken down a peg or two, gasped when she saw him hit the ground. Her fingers tightened almost painfully around Bo's hand as she jumped to her feet and hurried down toward the yard, tugging the succubus along behind her. Kenzi followed as fast as her feet would carry her, but Merlin beat them all, dashing out onto the field and crouching by Arthur's side just as the prince sat up and spat blood onto the grass beside him.
"Did you have to hit him that hard?" Merlin demanded, frowning up at Dyson.
"I didn't," the wolf replied in an almost bored tone which clearly conveyed that he didn't understand what all the fuss was about. "I'm certain I didn't knock out any teeth."
"No, I didn't lose a tooth," Arthur confirmed, somewhat sullenly. "Just bit my tongue is all."
Ignoring Merlin's outstretched hand, he got up unaided and faced Dyson. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, though the air between them nearly thrummed with tension. "Well," he said at last, "you've proven that your skill as a warrior is beyond question. It's been a long time since anyone defeated me so handily."
"Spoken like a man about to add some sort of qualifying statement," Dyson commented, his tone and expression still perfectly neutral.
Shaking off the suspicion that his opinions didn't matter one whit to the other man, Arthur went on, "It's the way you did it that's the problem. The rules of today's sparring called for swords only."
"Rules? There are no rules on the battlefield, boy. Your enemies will gouge your eyes out with a stick or tear out your throat with their teeth if it comes to that."
"That's true," Arthur acknowledged, "but this isn't the battlefield, and no one here is your enemy. If you become a knight of Camelot, I and all these men here will be your brothers. There is no honor in besting a brother through underhanded means."
These words finally got a reaction from Dyson, but not the one the prince was hoping for. "If you honestly believe what you're saying," he said with a strange mixture of scorn and pity, "you're a bigger fool than I thought."
"Excuse me?" Arthur said angrily.
"Let me tell you a story about honor and brotherhood. Your father compared my clan to a pack of wolves, and it was truer than he knew, because real wolves don't just hunt together, they're family. We were like that - the men and women of the Faelad Laignach were my brothers and sisters, all of them. There was one who was my best mate, though: Stefan. He was the most honorable of us all - kind, honest, generous, always placed his loyalty to his comrades in arms and our king above everything else - and everyone loved him for it. He even won the heart of our healer, Ciara, who was known far and wide as the most beautiful woman in the land."
"There, you see-" Arthur began, but Dyson cut him off.
"Aye, if the story ended there, I'd still believe in these values of yours...but it doesn't. As I said, Ciara's beauty was well-known; even the king was captivated by her, and wanted her for himself. He couldn't take another man's wife, though, so he ordered Stefan to deliver a message across enemy lines, alone." Dyson's voice cracked, and a moment passed before he was able to speak again, during which Arthur and everyone else within listening distance held their breath for the rest of his tale. When he continued, it was clear that reliving what happened next was very painful for him. "I begged him not to go, I knew he was walking into a death trap...but his damned honor wouldn't let him disobey the king's command."
"What happened?" Arthur demanded when he paused a second time.
"What do you think?" Dyson retorted with a harsh laugh. "Were you hoping for some fairy tale where the virtuous warrior triumphs against impossible odds and comes home a hero? I wish that's how it had been, but life doesn't work that way. I caught up with Stefan just in time to hear his dying words - he wanted the king to know he'd tried his best to carry out his orders - and take his body back to our people...who told me that the king Stefan gave his life for had come to claim Ciara before her husband was even in his grave. Naturally, I wanted revenge, but my so-called brothers chose to remain loyal to the bastard who'd murdered one of our own and stolen his wife. That's what honor gets you in the end. The sooner you accept that, the longer you'll live."
Having said his piece, he turned and strode out of the training yard, the onlookers in his path quickly stepping aside.
Stunned by what he had heard, Arthur gave his head a shake to clear it. "I should..." His voice soon trailed off helplessly, because he wasn't sure what he should do. As leader of the knights of Camelot, it was his job to sort out any issues with the men, but how was he supposed to get through to someone whose past experiences made anything he might say sound like foolish platitudes?
Thankfully, Bo took the matter out of his hands. "I'll go talk to him."
Arthur nodded gratefully, but Kenzi grabbed her arm as she started to move away. "Bo, are you sure that's a good idea?" she whispered worriedly. "I mean, our Dyson could be intense, but he never had the 'mad at the world' vibes I felt rolling off this one just now."
"Probably because he'd had a few centuries to deal with all this murder and backstabbing crap," Bo murmured back. "Don't worry, I can handle him."
Gently freeing herself, she walked off in the direction he'd taken, not noticing the look of consternation on Morgana's face as she watched her go.
###
After a fruitless search of the courtyard, she eventually spotted Dyson on the wall above her. Climbing the stone staircase to the walkway that spanned the battlements, she found him pacing in apparent agitation, casting frequent glances at the forest beyond the city. She said nothing as she approached, but he must have smelled her or heard her footsteps, because he suddenly rounded on her.
"I should never have come to Camelot," he said without preamble. "I don't belong here."
Bo nodded slowly. "At the risk of sounding cliché, I know how you feel." When he gave her a look of frank disbelief, she explained, "I was raised by humans who didn't take it very well when I turned out to be a succubus, so getting betrayed by the people you thought would be there for you no matter what? Been there, done that. Having to leave your home and not knowing if you'll ever find a new one? Check. That feeling that maybe there is no place for someone like you, that you don't deserve to belong anywhere? I've got that bumper sticker too."
Dyson's expression softened as he listened to her, his pacing slowed and finally stopped, and when he spoke again, he sounded genuinely sympathetic. "I'm sorry for all you've endured, truly, but your circumstances aren't exactly like mine. You had no choice in being what you are, while I did have a choice. I could have saved Stefan."
"How? You said he wouldn't listen when you tried to talk him out of going."
"No, he wouldn't...so I sought the Norn's intervention to change his fate. She could have ensured his survival, but in exchange she demanded my wolf. I couldn't give it up," he confessed, a bitter note of guilt and self-loathing creeping into his voice. "I turned and ran, hoping I could still save him with my sword and claws, but I was too late. He died because of my selfishness."
It took some effort for Bo to hide her reaction to this part of the story, because she'd had no idea that the night she confronted Aife wasn't the first time Dyson had visited the Norn and been told his wolf was the price of her granting his request, that he'd been unable to sacrifice that half of himself for his best friend... But he did it for me, she recalled with a painful clenching sensation in her chest. He told me he would've given up his wolf to save me.
Being reminded of how much she must have meant to him only made her more determined to help the man he had been, to do whatever she could to ease the grief and guilt weighing him down. "That's not true," she said firmly, staring hard into his eyes as if hoping to hammer her conviction into him. "Stefan had a choice too. He must've known there was something fishy about him being asked to deliver such an important message all by himself when sending more people would've given it a better chance of getting through, you even told him the mission was practically guaranteed to get him killed, but he chose to go anyway, didn't he?"
"He did," Dyson admitted reluctantly. "He even said dying for the king would be an honor, but-"
"Exactly," Bo cut him off. "He was a grown man, and he knew what he was getting into. It wasn't your responsibility to protect him from the consequences of his own bad decision."
"He was my best friend, and he didn't deserve to die because of one poor choice. If I'd taken the Norn's deal, he'd still be alive."
"For how long? If the king was that determined to get his hands on Ciara and his first shot at getting rid of Stefan hadn't worked, don't you think he would've tried again? Maybe Stefan eventually would have wised up if he kept getting sent on one suicide mission after another, but from what you just told me, it seems unlikely, so what were you gonna do? Run to the Norn every time the king came up with another dangerous assignment and let her keep taking pieces of you until you had nothing left that she wanted? Stefan didn't deserve to die, but you didn't deserve to live like that."
Seeing that her words were hitting their mark, she went for the kill by taking a step closer, her eyes still glued to his. "You don't deserve to live with all this guilt either," she said softly, earnestly. "It wasn't your fault."
Dyson searched her face for any hint of insincerity, any sign that she was offering false reassurances, but she met his gaze unwaveringly until he bowed his head in capitulation. "Perhaps you're right," he said in a low, pained voice, "but I still miss him. I wish there had been something more I could've done."
"I know," Bo said soothingly, reaching out to offer what comfort she could through her touch (it helped that he had ditched his mail shirt after leaving the training field, so he could actually feel her hand on his arm). "You'll always miss him, but you can still do something good with your life. You can stay here and help protect Arthur."
"Why do you care what happens to him?" he asked, looking up again with a querying expression. "Arthur has good in him, but he's also spoiled and far too cocky for someone who'd be lost without an army of servants at his beck and call."
"You're not wrong," Bo acknowledged, her mouth twisting into a rueful grimace as she dropped her hand and turned to gaze out over the wall; after all, she'd had similar thoughts about the prince herself. "But for some reason Merlin's made it his mission in life to keep the royal pain alive, and he's practically Morgana's brother-"
"Ah, I see," Dyson interrupted with a knowing smirk. "The things we do for love."
"You're right," she agreed, turning back to face him. "I do love them, and they love Arthur - especially Merlin. He puts himself in a lot of dangerous situations to protect him and Camelot, and I know how powerful he is, but I also think he looks out for Arthur more than himself, so I just... I worry about him."
"I see," Dyson said again, this time with perfect seriousness. "So it's Merlin's safety that concerns you, not the prince's."
"Well, obviously I don't want anything to happen to Arthur either, but I think Merlin's got him covered. I'd feel better if he had someone there to watch his back when I can't, though."
Dyson took a moment to consider her request, but it wasn't a hard decision to make; he already liked Merlin, who was friendly, funny, and not at all arrogant or overbearing, much more than Arthur. "I can do that. Thank you, my lady. What you said... It helped."
He gave her a tentative smile which she returned in full force, her heart soaring. In that moment, he looked more like her Dyson than ever before, and she knew she had just taken a huge step toward getting her friend back - and with him, a piece of the home she and Kenzi had lost.
###
Her high spirits persisted as she headed back into the castle, until she opened the door to her chambers and found Merlin and Morgana inside. Normally, this would have made her even happier, but they didn't appear to be in the mood for sexy fun times. "Hey, guys. What's up?"
It was Merlin who answered. "Morgana was just telling me that she thinks you've been behaving oddly of late."
"Not just you," the lady in question quickly amended when Bo raised her eyebrows at her. "Ever since Dyson arrived in Camelot, you and Kenzi have both been...strangely familiar with him. The way the two of you look at him sometimes or speak of him, it's as if he's an old friend of yours."
"Oh." Having thought she and Kenzi had been more discreet, Bo was momentarily taken aback, but then she realized that this could be a great opportunity. She had always intended to tell her girlfriend the truth about where they came from one day, yet somehow the right opening had never presented itself...except maybe now it had. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, "That's because he is."
Morgana's brow furrowed in confusion. "How can that be when he acts like he only met you a few days ago?"
"Well, this is where it gets complicated. Kenzi and I know Dyson pretty well, but he doesn't know us. Not yet, anyway."
"I don't understand. Did the same sorcerer who abducted you erase his memory?"
"No, the Dyson from this time really did just meet us this week, but we met him more than a thousand years in the future." Bo let out a sigh of frustration. "I'm not explaining this very well, am I?"
"Do you mean that you and Kenzi had some sort of...of shared vision of his future self?" A sudden jolt seemed to pass through the younger girl, and her eyes grew very wide. "Are you seers like me? You must be very powerful to have seen so far ahead."
She looked so hopeful that Bo almost wished she could say yes and let Morgana think she'd found a couple of kindred spirits, but now that she had finally started to tell the truth, she was determined to get it all out there. Besides, lying to her would be crueler in the long run. "I'm sorry, but no," she said apologetically. "Kenzi and I don't see the future - we just lived there. That's why Uther hasn't been able to send us home; I don't know if they have ships that can make the trip yet, and even if the continent's there, the city we lived in won't be built for a few hundred years. I wasn't exaggerating when I said the place we came from was a whole different world."
Her voice was much softer and laced with sadness by the time she finished, but Morgana was too astounded to feel bad for her. "Good heavens," she whispered. "To have seen what the world will become in a thousand years... It's incredible-" She whirled around to face Merlin, having just registered his non-reaction to news that she considered fairly earth-shattering. "Yet you don't seem the least bit surprised. You weren't surprised when I told you how Bo and Kenzi treated Dyson as a long-lost friend either..." Her face fell as realization dawned. "You already knew, didn't you?"
"I did," Merlin admitted, not quite meeting her eyes. "I've known since before she tried to help that cursed druid girl, Freya."
"That long?" Morgana turned back to Bo, looking hurt. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you would've thought I was crazy," Bo said bluntly. "Wouldn't you?"
"Well...yes, I probably would have," Morgana confessed, before muttering something that sounded like, "Sometimes I still wonder... But why," she demanded more loudly, "did you trust him so much sooner when I was under the impression that you didn't even particularly like each other at first? I was your friend from the very beginning, wasn't I?"
"It wasn't about who I trusted more. Kenzi and I probably would've waited longer to tell him too, but we hoped he could help us get back home."
"Why on earth did you think Merlin could help you get back to the future?"
Realizing she had inadvertently come close to revealing another long-kept secret, Bo looked at Merlin, silently asking if he was ready to take advantage of the opening she'd provided.
Unfortunately, it appeared he wasn't. "Of course they didn't think I could help them," he said a little too quickly, returning her gaze with a slightly pleading look. "They were talking to Gaius about it, and I just happened to walk in and overhear them."
"I suppose that does make more sense," Morgana said slowly, though she was still frowning. "After that unfortunate affair with the Witchfinder, Arthur told me that he suspected Gaius because our physician apparently consorted with sorcerers in the days before the Purge, but how could you have known that, Bo?"
With Merlin still gazing beseechingly at her, Bo reluctantly said, "We didn't, we just knew he was the smartest guy around, so Kenzi and I figured if anyone could help us, it'd be him. He couldn't crack time travel, though."
"But what of the sorcerer who brought you here?" Morgana asked, grabbing Bo's arm as a new potential problem occurred to her. "What if he comes back for you, or someone else from your time finds their way here and wants to take you back?"
"That's not going to happen," Bo assured her. "This is where the old guy wanted me, and if my being here is already changing history, the people from my time might not even remember me anymore. Even if they do, I seriously doubt they'd be able to get here. It'd take more power than almost anyone has, even fae, and the few that can pull it off are probably too worried about the consequences to try it except in very special circumstances."
Morgana wondered why, if it was so risky, the old warlock had sent Bo to them in the first place, but a more pressing concern soon pushed its way to the front of her mind. "Still, if it was possible..." She hesitated, gathering her courage before asking softly, "Would you want to leave?"
"I did at first-" Seeing a flash of hurt in her eyes before she dropped her gaze from Bo's, the succubus placed a hand under her chin and gently turned her face back toward her own. "-But not anymore. I see now that this is where I belong. Besides, life in Camelot does have its perks." She brushed her thumb over Morgana's lips to indicate her meaning, earning a smile from the girl. "You're never getting rid of me."
"Good, because I've grown rather used to having you around."
"Really? Are you sure you wouldn't rather I go back to the future if it meant you and Merlin could have a nice, normal, two-person relationship?"
"Well, when you put it that way... But no," Morgana quickly dropped the pretense when Bo mock-glared at her. "I'll admit that when you first suggested our arrangement, the main reason I said yes was because it was the only way I could be with Merlin. I wasn't sure how I would feel about sharing him with another woman, and the idea of three people being together seemed very strange to me...but now that I've learned to appreciate what we have, I wouldn't want it any other way."
"Besides, I don't know if Morgana and I would even be together if not for you," Merlin added, moving closer to them.
"Oh, really? Are you saying you only love me because she put the notion in your head?" Morgana demanded, a little less humorously than she would have liked. After all, she was well aware that he'd chosen Bo first, and that bringing her into their relationship had been Bo's idea even though he hadn't seemed to mind too much.
"No, I would have had feelings for you anyway," he said at once, "but without Bo's encouragement, I'm not sure I ever would've had the nerve to act on them. After all, you are the closest thing Camelot has to a princess. How could a lowly servant like me ever hope to capture such unattainable perfection?" On those last words, his serious attitude gave way to a mischievous grin as he tugged lightly on the end of the French braid Bo had given her.
"Stop it," Morgana huffed, twitching her braid out of his grasp. "If you're going to be ridiculous, I'm leaving." She made as if to do just that, only for Merlin and Bo to playfully grab her before she'd taken two steps, trapping her between them.
"I really do need to go, though," she insisted once their comically exaggerated pleas for her to stay fell silent. "Uther still expects me to join him for almost every meal, and I'm sure Arthur will want another set of ears to regale with his review of the trainees' performance. Besides, if I let him complain to me about the glorious bruise he's no doubt sporting by now, perhaps he'll have it out of his system before you have to deal with him again, Merlin."
"Thanks," he said wryly, "but I'm sure he'll still have plenty to say. He always does."
He and Bo grudgingly allowed Morgana to slip out of their embrace, leaving them alone together.
"I'm glad we had this talk. It felt good to finally get everything out in the open," she said pointedly, staring directly into his eyes.
He sighed and started to drop his hands from her waist, but she held him in place by locking her arms around his neck as if they were about to slow-dance. "I know what you're getting at, but it's not the same. Once she understood that you aren't going anywhere, your big secret didn't really affect her."
"And yours does?" Bo scoffed. "I know she was kidnapped by druids, but I seriously doubt she'll lump you in with them just because you have magic."
"It's more complicated than that." Merlin wished he could explain why Morgana was likely to take the revelation of his magic as such an intensely personal betrayal, but that would mean revealing her magic to Bo, which she had made him swear not to do. Not for the first time, the thought crossed his mind that they had too many secrets. "You'll just have to trust me. You do, don't you?"
"Of course I trust you. I just don't want anything to screw this up now that the three of us are in such a good place, and I especially hated having to lie to her."
"Don't worry, I won't ask you to make a habit of it." He leaned down to give her a quick kiss, then gently freed himself from her hold. "I'd better go now; Arthur's armor needs polishing."
###
As she headed toward the dining room where she was to meet Uther and Arthur for lunch, Morgana spied Kenzi strolling through the corridors and impulsively seized the girl's arm, pulling her into an alcove where they could talk without being easily overheard.
Kenzi let out a yelp of surprise and outrage, but soon calmed down once she identified her captor - for the most part, at least. "Uh, Mo, you didn't drag me in here to try and make out with me, did you?" she asked apprehensively. "'Cause I'm all for you experimenting if it means my bestie gets her girl, but I don't go for that kind of thing. Not even Bo's wondersnatch could tempt me except for, like, maybe one micro-second where I was hammered out of my mind, and if you ever tell her I said that-"
"Don't flatter yourself," Morgana interrupted, rolling her eyes. "I just had a very enlightening discussion with Bo. She finally told me the truth about where you came from - or should I say, when."
"Cool. I mean, she's always had an industrial-strength hangup about people keeping stuff from her, so it's nice to see she's not being all hypocritical with her own secrets."
"Indeed." Morgana paused, thinking of the best way to broach her present concerns, before continuing with, "Our conversation began because I noticed how familiar you both were with Dyson."
"Yeah, he was part of our crew back home," Kenzi replied easily. "Or maybe I should say Bo's crew. She just has this way of pulling people in, you know?"
"I do - it worked quite well on me, and I imagine on several others, but the way she followed him so readily after he left the training field when even you kept your distance, how certain she was that she could get through to him, makes me wonder if perhaps there was more to her relationship with his future counterpart than simple friendship?"
"Oh." Kenzi blinked, and her expression became more guarded, but she decided it was best to give an honest answer. "Yeah, they were hot and heavy at first. Used to keep me up half the night with the moaning and banging and dust raining down on my head..." Seeing Morgana's look of dismay, she hurried to add, "They were over before we got sent here, though. And okay, they didn't exactly break up by choice; it was a whole crazy shit-tuation of him semi-accidentally trading his love for her to some creepy old wish-granting fae lady to save her life-"
"If you're trying to make me feel better, I'm afraid you're missing the mark," Morgana said dryly.
"Sorry. Look, you've got nothing to worry about; everything that went down before was a different time, different place, and a totally different Dyson, okay? This one clearly has some serious trust and anger issues that aren't exactly great for starting a relationship, and Bo's not looking for one. She's so happy with you and Merlin that it almost makes me wanna hurl whenever I see you together. Now, you good?"
Something about the situation still bothered Morgana, but she wasn't quite sure why; after all, Kenzi had made some excellent points. "Yes, I am."
"Fantabulous - so glad I could help." Kenzi started to slide out of the alcove, only to realize that, thin as she was, she wouldn't be able to squeeze out without way more pectoral contact than any straight girl should ever have with another woman. "Now how 'bout you be a doll and get your boobs out of my way?"
###
Gwen spent the first hours of the morning moping around her house, mourning the loss of the future she had hoped for with Arthur and nursing her hurt over his rejection, but as the sun climbed higher in the sky, her practical nature reasserted itself, and her thoughts turned to what she would do next. Arthur had ended their burgeoning romance because he believed she would be better off with Lancelot, and she knew that giving the former knight a second chance would make him happy, so she resolved to do just that. If Morgana was right about him being able to stir the same feelings in her that he had once before, maybe she could eventually find some measure of happiness with him too. Ignoring the cold pit in her stomach, she put on a clean dress, fixed her hair, and set off for the palace with a quick, purposeful stride.
She found Lancelot in the armory, chatting with Merlin as they cleaned the armor and weapons that had been used in the training session earlier. The fact that Merlin was there gave her pause, but she refused to be deterred; bracing herself, she marched up to where they were sitting and cleared her throat, causing them to look up at her.
"Gwen!" Merlin exclaimed. "I didn't expect to see you today. I mean, not here, obviously, since Morgana didn't use her armor today, but...I heard that you weren't feeling well?" The meaningful look he gave her hinted that he wasn't just asking after her health, and she realized to her chagrin that Arthur must have told him everything.
"Yes, I had a bit of a rough night, but I'm fine now," she said in a subtly pointed tone that she hoped would get her message across without giving anything away to Lancelot. She then turned to him and went on, "In fact, I've had time to think while I recuperated, and if you still want to have dinner with me, I'd like that very much."
"Really?"
The look of joyful surprise on his face was rather gratifying, even as the lack of a corresponding reaction in herself caused her insides to squirm guiltily. Pushing the uncomfortable feeling aside, Gwen plastered on a smile. "Really. Are you free tonight?"
"Tonight? Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to get some more rest?"
"No, I'm quite well now, thank you. I hope you like chicken and bean soup."
"Sounds delicious."
"I'll see you tonight, then." She left as briskly as she'd come, eager to escape before her smile slipped. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough to evade Merlin, who caught up with her in the corridor outside and snagged her elbow, pulling her to a halt. Turning to face him, she raised an eyebrow in her best imitation of Gaius. "Is there something you need, Merlin?"
"What are you doing? I know you, Gwen - you couldn't have fallen out of love with Arthur overnight, and he loves you too. Deep down, you know it's true."
A range of emotions played over her face as he spoke - first surprise, then annoyance, and finally steely determination. "Yes, I believe he does," she said in a clipped tone, "but he's made it clear that his duty to Camelot comes first, and he doesn't think I'm fit to be his queen. He wanted me to be with Lancelot, so I'm giving him what he wants, Lancelot too. This is what's best for everyone, Merlin."
"No, it's not!" Lowering his voice, Merlin leaned in and all but whispered, "You don't really feel anything more than friendship for Lancelot anymore, do you?"
"I... I care for him, of course I do," Gwen protested, her voice faltering for the first time. "As for love, we've been apart so long...but I had feelings for him once, and I'm sure they'll return with a little time and effort."
"Gwen, you shouldn't have to work at loving the person you're with."
"No, you shouldn't," she agreed, "but what else can I do?"
Merlin had no answer for that. She gave him a sad smile and patted his arm, trying to convey through touch her gratitude for his concern, then turned and walked away.
Again, sorry for the length; there was a lot to cover. It could've been shorter if I'd resisted the urge to write about Merlin trying to salvage Arwen, but his friendship with Arthur and Gwen hasn't had enough screen time lately.
I had originally meant to have Bo tell Morgana about the whole time travel thing in chapter 30, but all my attempts to work it into the dialogue felt clunkier than an old car on a cold morning, so I decided to put it off and use Dyson's arrival to bring up the subject in a way that was actually relevant to what's going on. Didn't want to take up more space with repeating the full story of why Bo was sent there, though, so you can imagine her telling Morgana that as an off-screen moment. I preferred to put in a fluffy scene with our OT3 instead, because who doesn't want more of that?
Next chapter will deal with the Gwen/Lancelot subplot, and I'll try to keep the word count to a more reasonable level.