Puffs of dust escaped a disused cupboard that held an old suit of armor. The rust that spread across it said that it had witnessed better days. Nothing a bit of magic couldn't fix, though.
"Oriana," a voice called.
"Yes, father?"
Quickly, the aforementioned young woman shut the cupboard, and moved to another side of the room, where there were books stacked beside a bed. Her being near books was less likely to bring forth suspicion, she wagered.
A man with dark blue eyes, shoulder length black hair, and pale skin appeared, his eyes searching his bedroom, until he spotted the young woman whom he had been searching for.
"What are you doing?"
"I was looking for a botany text I saw you use before."
He arched an eyebrow at her.
"Really. Which one?"
Oriana pointed to a tome a few layers down, and made to grab it.
Once in her hands, she held it up, and placed a sweet, demure smile upon her face, hoping that he would buy it.
"You know you're welcome to any of my books, but please, ask before you enter my sleeping quarters."
"Yes, father. It won't happen again."
The man sighed, then said, "See that it doesn't."
Knowing that she was out of luck for now, Oriana walked out, hoping to placate the man into not asking any further questions. Much to her chagrin, it seemed that she would just have to try to sneak back for the armor later. For the time being, she would simply have to pursue something else, until her father let his guard down again.
With that in mind, after dropping the book in her own room, Oriana walked out of their home, and went to knock on her best friend's door, which was not far from her's.
A few moments after Oriana had rapped her knuckles on the door, Brigit answered, holding her newborn in her arms, looking as if she had not slept more than a few winks in a fortnight. The normally well kept woman had bags under her eyes, and her hair straw colored hair was visibly stringy, and greasy.
At the sight of Oriana though, she brightened up marginally. Brigit held a finger to her lips though, and pointed down at the swaddled bundle in her arms. After Oriana indicated she understood, Brigit moved aside, so as to allow her friend into her home.
"Did you get it?" Brigit whispered.
Oriana shook her head ruefully.
"No, father walked in, before I could."
"The tournament is in a few days. If you don't leave soon, you'll never make it."
Oriana bit her lip, and nodded.
"I know, but you know as well as I that he cannot know where I intend to go, with Lancelot's armor in tow."
Brigit shifted her sleeping babe from one shoulder to another, then eyed Oriana.
"Are you sure this is what you want? Are you not content with your life here in Ealdor?"
"I am, but a part of me just needs to go to Camelot, just once."
Oriana watched as Brigit gave her a searching look, before she said, "I know we've spoken of this previously, and you will not want to hear this, but you don't even know him, Ori. Merlin, Lancelot and Hunith raised you, not him. Is it really worth upsetting your father, just to meet a man who is only your kin by blood?"
A part of Oriana knew that Brigit was right. Regardless of parentage, the man she sought in Camelot was not her family; Lancelot, who had died protecting her, her father Merlin, as well as her grandmother, had raised her. They had been her family from the moment she was born, as they had chosen to be there for her. No one else had the right to claim such involvement in her life as they could. It was something she had deliberated with Brigit since she had thought of her plan, in the first place.
Oriana sighed.
"Perhaps it is a fool's errand, but I cannot shake the feeling I need to do this."
Bright grimaced.
"I hope you find whatever it is you're seeking, but please, be careful."
"Of course. I haven't met a single person yet who cannot be felled by my magic or sword."
Brigit rolled her eyes, but Oriana could still see fear on her face, too.
The baby began to cry moments later though, and Oriana took that as her cue to leave. After a quick embrace, she was out the door, and walking towards her grandmother's house.
As was customary, Oriana never knocked, but entered and left as she wished.
Her grandmother Hunith was kneading dough, when she walked in.
The good-natured woman looked up from her task and smiled.
The years had been kind to her grandmother, who still looked as if she were much younger than what Oriana knew her true age to be.
"Hello, dear. What brings you by?"
"I wished to see you, of course."
"Those eyes hold mischief, though. Care to explain, while you help me with this?"
Oriana had already begun to roll up her sleeves, before Hunith had asked.
"For you gran? Always."
Given that Oriana's father was a powerful sorcerer, there were many times as a child that she had spent days at Hunith's side. Together, their bond had become strong as Hunith taught Oriana how to bake, amongst other things, as they waited for Merlin to return.
For a time, the two worked in practiced movements that had become rote with time. That was, until the weight of the secret Oriana held was too great for her to stand withholding it a second longer, and so she stepped away from their task, to look at Hunith.
"I plan to go to Camelot."
Oriana winced when Hunith dropped the bowl that she had previously held in her hands.
She watched as her grandmother turned to her, and asked, "Does your father know about this?"
"No, and I do not plan to tell him."
Hunith sighed as she cleaned up the mess she had made. Oriana helped as best she could, from where she was at her side.
Her grandmother's opinion was one she held dear, and if Hunith tried to dissuade her, then perhaps, Oriana might listen. Though she felt a sense of urgency in her, to ride off for the citadel unknown to her, if Hunith only asked, she would stay.
"Your father set out for Camelot at your age, you know."
It was a tid bit, rather than an outright condemnation.
"Why?"
"People here were unused to magic, and he made a public display of it far too often for them to be comfortable with his presence. So, I asked him to go stay with my brother, Camelot's court physician."
Hunith paused, choosing to knead the dough for a moment again.
Oriana had no desire to cut her off, as this was something she had never heard before. The way she understood it, her father had been more of a knight, or something of the sort, as he knew that band of men well, according to Lancelot.
When she did speak again, Hunith stopped kneading, and stared off for a moment at the wall opposite of her, as if she were looking into a window of the past.
"I knew Gaius had dabbled in magic before the Great Purge, and so I thought that perhaps in the citadel, Merlin could blend in, and keep out of trouble."
Oriana smiled.
"That didn't happen though, did it?"
Hunith seemed to remember she had been speaking to someone else, so she then turned to Oriana, with a sad smile on her face.
"No, he never managed that."
There was silence, for a long time, and then Oriana spoke up again.
"Lancelot used to tell me stories of what he and father got up to there."
Up until now, Oriana had held onto those small scraps, as they were all she had that resembled painting a picture of what her father's life was like, before she was born. Stood beside Hunith, she wished for something more concrete. She wondered though, if her grandmother would grant her that, as her father had not.
"Why does that not surprise me?"
There was much Oriana knew that Hunith could tell her, but a burning question, one which she desperately needed to know the answer to, was the one which escaped her lips next.
"Is Arthur Pendragon really my father, too?"
Oriana hadn't meant to speak her doubt outloud, but if anyone would know, it would be her grandmother.
Hunith didn't answer for a long time. It was almost as if she hadn't heard Oriana, or she was ignoring her altogether.
Then, she turned to her granddaughter, and said, "Yes, he is."
The confirmation felt bittersweet.
Now, Oriana had even more questions than answers. She remained quiet for a moment, before settling on what she wished to know next.
"Did you ever meet him, gran?"
Hunith reached up, and wiped some flour off of her face, then replied, "A few times, before your father left Camelot."
"What did you think of him?"
Oriana hoped she hadn't pressed Hunith too far. So, she waited patiently again, until her grandmother spoke her mind.
It took some time, but in this, Oriana would be patient, as she had no one else to turn to. Lancelot had been gone for some time, and before that, no one had dared speak of Arthur Pendragon anywhere near Oriana.
"He was a brash, but kind man, with a heavy burden to carry."
Silence elapsed between Oriana and Hunith again, before the former asked, "Will you tell my father, if I do leave for Camelot?"
The response to this was swift.
"I will not lie to him, no."
There seemed to be something more simmering underneath those words, as if she was holding back.
Oriana's suspicions were confirmed when Hunith said softly, "If you leave at night though, it will give you a head start."
Oriana smiled conspiratorially for a moment, before she moved on to her next doubt that she wished to voice aloud.
"Do you think I should go meet him?"
Though she had loved Lancelot as a father figure, he had made it clear he was not seeking to be a replacement for the man who should have been there for her. She still loved him like she loved Merlin, and no amount of him trying to dissuade her had changed that. She knew that he had felt unworthy, and so she had made sure that he knew exactly how she thought of him. He was the one who had been there for her, after all. Still, a small piece of her longed to know who Lancelot thought to be more worthy of her love than him.
"I believe that is up to you, dear. He is, after all, your father, too."
"Do you think that Merlin had it wrong, when he kept this from me? He's never steered me wrong before, and yet, Arthur Pendragon lives, and I do not know him."
Hunith sighed.
"Sometimes, when people are hurt, they cannot see past the pain, and make rash decisions instead."
Oriana couldn't help it; a laugh precluded her next thought she dared speak out loud, "I'm 18 summers old, grandmother. We are long past rash."
Hunith smiled again, but still, it did not quite reach her eyes.
"There are times, dear, when once we've tread so far down one path, it is hard to see our way to another."
Oriana chewed on her lip, then asked what her heart begged her to, again.
"Why did he leave Camelot?"
Hunith looked to Oriana, and a pained expression set itself on her face.
However, the sound of a door opening revealed none other than her father entering his mother's home.
The time for questions was over, much to Oriana's chagrin.
"Hello mother. Fancy having us both for supper?"
While Hunith and her father spoke, Oriana chose not to press further, instead electing to lapse into silence. She had much to consider, and very little time to do it in.