A/N: Here it is chapter 2 all for you guys. I hope you're ready to meet my version of Mal. Thank you all so much for the favs, follows and reviews. Once again, you have no idea how much they mean to me, given that this is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction. I know that I've still got a lot to improve in my writing style but the story is long (Did I mention that it will be close to 40 chapter mark in length?) and I'll definitely continue improving as I move along. I love the plot and I really hope that you'll all stick around to read it through...I promise it will be worth it.

Chapter 2

Camelot Heights Castle – West Territory

King Arthur lifted his head from the paperwork he was signing and smiled to greet Lancelot, who had knocked before entering his office chambers.

"Pardon me, Sire." The captain of Arthur's guard bowed in respect.

Arthur waited for Lancelot to straighten himself. "What's the matter?"

"There is a farmer, Michael Darling, who has requested an urgent audience with you. He appears to be quite distraught."

Arthur's eyebrows jerked up at the mention of the farmer's name. Worry instantly etched itself on his face. "Let him in immediately."

Lancelot lifted a hand in the door's direction, signalling to the guards to let the man in. The farmer swiftly entered the chambers and knelt down.

"Please stand, Michael. What's brought you all the way over to Camelot?" Arthur inquired with a hint of apprehension in his tone.

"I didn't know who else to turn too, your Majesty. You're the only person I could talk to about this." The farmer replied as he rose back to his feet. He paused as he nervously gripped the hat he held tightly in his hands.

"Speak freely then. There's no need to be afraid." Arthur reassured him.

"The young six-year-old girl we found in the forest ten years ago," Michael began.

"Yes. Keep going," Arthur uttered in a dry tone, standing up from his chair.

"We'd sworn to never reveal what had happened that day to anyone. But John has been arrested by Lord Gaston of Auradon and I'm afraid that my brother might reveal our secret in order to save his life."

Arthur reached out to his side and grabbed his cane. He stood and slowly made his way across the room. The King had personally led his armies during the Great War until five years ago when Stefan himself had struck him on his right leg with his sword. A deep infection had set in shortly afterwards and Arthur had ended up battling for his life. Fortunately, the royal physician was able to save him, but he could do nothing to prevent the king from losing part of his leg's mobility. Arthur stopped in front of the farmer. All colour had drained from his face. "My little Mal is in danger."

"Nothing would be able to stop the East from winning the war if Princess Mal were to be captured by Lord Gaston!" Lancelot exclaimed, his tone filled with concern as he walked up to them.

"There's not a minute to lose, Lancelot." Arthur ordered. "Take a group of your best men to the Notre-Dame Convent. We have to get Mal to safety."

Lancelot bent his head down, accepting the order, and hastily made his way out of the chambers.

"Thank you, Michael. Now go and rest after such a long journey. I'll ask the kitchen staff to prepare something for you." The farmer nodded and made his way out of the room.

Left alone with his thoughts, Arthur walked to one of the windows and gazed outside with a grave look. The moment he'd dreaded had come. He only hoped that he would be able to keep Mal safe.

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Notre-Dame Convent – West Territory

A young 10-year-old white-haired boy ran as fast as his short legs could carry him across the stony path until he stopped at the edge of a plateau. He took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart, his mischievous eyes eagerly scrutinising the meadows below him. His smile widened as he spotted a horse making its way across the valley. He'd made it on time.

Mal couldn't wipe the grin off her face as she skilfully rode her white horse across the flowery fields, a bow and arrow in either hand. She let the feeling of freedom overtake her for a few moments as she felt the air rush through her long purple hair. Then with one smooth motion, she lifted her arm, drew the arrow, niched it, pulled and released it. The arrow flew for a few seconds before burying itself in an apple which had been resting on a nearby fence post. Mal beamed in satisfaction as she lowered her now free arm. She caught and pulled at the straps of the horse's reins. The horse came to a stop just under the edge of the plateau.

"That was fantastic, Mal! You're amazing!" Carlos stated enthusiastically as the girl lifted her gaze towards him with a little smile. "I'm sure that there is no one in the whole West Territory who could match your skill. I also bet that no one would be willing to marry someone who can shoot an arrow like that."

A burst of childish laughter rose from Mal's throat at Carlos' remark. "How can you be so sure?" Mal asked, her tone incredulous.

"Would you marry a man who likes to sew and prepare dinner?" Carlos challenged.

"In an instant!" She quipped with an impish grin.

Carlos's face fell. "You can say whatever you like but I will never marry a female archer." He snorted in obvious contempt as he crossed his arms defiantly.

Mal grinned mischievously. She just loved getting Carlos all worked up, especially when her young friend got lost describing the qualities of the perfect girl he would one day marry when he was older. Just like most of the orphaned children living in the convent, Carlos dreamed about a better future, one where he could finally be part of family. But remembering that he's still ten years old and noting his now tight pressed lips and reddening face, Mal realised she might have gone a little too far this time. "Well, maybe one day I'll meet someone so charming and noble, who makes me fall so deeply in love with him that I'll stop shooting arrows." She paused, a playful glint in her eye. She certainly had no intention of letting go of her bow and arrow anytime soon. They were too important to her… it was her only way of honouring her family heritage. "At least for a little while…" she finished.

Carlos was about to retort back an answer but stopped when he saw a sudden change in Mal's demeanour. A pensive, sad expression took over her face before she looked away from him, a deep, weighted sigh escaping her throat.

Mal gripped her bow and arrow tightly. Thinking about her family legacy had made her mind inevitably wonder off to her dead father. "Carlos." She paused as she returned to look at him. "Do you think I'm as good as my father with a bow and arrow?"

"I've never met your father, Mal." He paused with a little smile. "But you're amazing, so I'm sure you're as good as him."

Their conversation was interrupted when Mal heard her name being called. She turned around to look at the approaching horse.

"Over here, Merlin." She greeted happily and waved her arm, recognising her guardian anywhere.

Mal caressed her horse's mane absent-mindedly as she waited for him to arrive, her mind returning to dwell on her past. Despite all her efforts, her past remained blank up until the time she was six, when she'd been discovered wandering the forest alone. Two farmers had found her and taken her to Camelot's castle. Her clothes had been torn and stained with blood, but the expensive fabric of her dress seemed to indicate she was part of a noble family. Her only possession was a leather-bound book she kept clutched to her chest. At the palace, Arthur had managed to pry the book out of her sleeping fingers, and this had revealed her identity. Soon after, news arrived that confirmed Arthur's suspicions. Stefan's army was marching on the borders, though he had not discovered the moorlands and the Fae folk yet. Mal's parents were missing, and only god knew what could have possibly happened to them.

So, after a few days, Arthur took an important decision and introduced her to Merlin, informing her that he'd chosen him as her legal guardian. The older man had been by her side ever since, loving her as if she was his own child. Her earliest memories were of him patiently sitting by her side night after night as nightmares continued to plague her restless sleep. One day, in one of the rare occasions, where Mal had asked about her past, Merlin told her all about the long nights where she would wake up wide-eyed and terrified, still clutching the book tightly in her hands and how he'd tried unsuccessfully to comfort her. She'd just recoil violently at his touch until suddenly one night, after a particularly vivid and nasty dream, she surprisingly did not flinch away but instead dropped her book, embracing him tightly as heaving sobs wracked her entire body. She had then cried herself to her first peaceful sleep since being found and brought to the castle. That was the turning point and the following morning she'd spoken for the first time softly telling him that she was hungry. They'd then lived a few months in Camelot's castle until Arthur decided to move her here, at the Notre-Dame convent, safely away from the war that had plagued the Fairy Tale lands all these years.

Then, six years ago, Arthur had reappeared from Camelot to inform her of everything that had happened and the truth as far as he knew it. How the West Side of the Fairy-land was inhabited by magical Fae, who were protected and led by her mother, Queen Maleficent. He'd told her of her father, Tristan - how he'd been one of his knights and how his book was the last and only thing she had from him. The place where Maleficent and Tristan had lived had been pillaged, and they'd never been heard from again, effectively leaving tiny Mal an orphan and the rightful ruler, the crown princess, of the moorlands. Unfortunately, Mal would not inherit her powers until she turned eighteen, but for now, she could feel close to her parents by engaging in her father's favourite pastime - archery.

As a light breeze suddenly ruffled her hair, Mal was temporarily brought out of her thoughts. The bright sunlight and the feeling of the warm air on her skin took her back to the day just after her tenth birthday when Arthur had come all the way from Camelot for a surprise visit. She smoothed her long purple locks back into place, subconsciously cocking her head to the side and closing her eyes. Sometimes the memories felt all fake and floppy, like she'd imagined it all. Then other times, they felt as real as the wind whipping around her frame and the sunlight on her face and the sharp smell of water in the air. Somewhere in the back of her head Mal heard her name being called and snapped back to the present. She blinked. A tall and thin man pulled at his horse's reins, bringing his horse to a halt right beside her. She'd tuned out and hadn't even heard him approach.

"There you are, my child. I have been looking for you everywhere." Merlin frowned as soon as he noticed the bow clutched in her hand. "Mal, I've told you that hobby is far, far too dangerous." he scolded, the silver of his long hair and beard shining as it caught the light of the now fading sun.

"Well, I've told you to leave the strawberries on the table for me when I get home, but you never do, do you?" Mal returned, raising an eyebrow as a mischievous smile pulled across her lips.

Merlin let out a long-suffering sigh. "You'll be the death of me, you know?"

"Someone's got to be. You can't just live forever." Mal scoffed. Merlin wrinkled his brow and stared at her. Almost immediately, guilt made her slump her shoulders a little. She sighed. "I'll be careful, Merlin."

"Now come, my dear. We must return to the convent. Captain Lancelot has just arrived from Camelot with an urgent message from Arthur."

"Is something wrong?" She asked, her eyebrows drawing together.

"I don't know but let's go find out." He replied, pulling the reins of his horse. He started to make his way back to the convent followed by Mal and Carlos.

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"Arthur's in danger?" Mal asked worriedly, rubbing her hands on the fabric of her plain purple kirtle. She was walking besides Lancelot and Merlin as they made their way across the convent's wide courtyard.

"Arthur's very worried about your safety." Lancelot replied.

"I'm safe here. No one knows of my existence!" Mal retorted.

"We've received news that Lord Gaston of Auradon has discovered that you're still alive and hidden in this convent." The captain explained.

Mal abruptly stopped walking, a knot forming in her stomach.

"You know how your lands, the ones you've inherited from your parents, could forever change the tide of this war." Merlin reminded her.

"But with my mother gone, I'm the only one left who can wield my land's power. If I die, that power will be lost forever." Mal answered in a strained voice.

"No one wants to kill you Mal." Lancelot reassured her. "But they can force you into marriage. Whoever marries you will inherit your title and become ruler of the Moors. Your children would also be Fae and have your same magical powers."

Mal closed her eyes before turned to look away. How could this Auradonian ruler she'd never heard of have the nerve to force her to marry someone against her will? She made her own decisions, and no one ever told her what to do. The only people she ever listened to were Merlin and Arthur, whom she loved and considered to be her family. They'd raised her, given her a home and protected her from harm ever since they'd found her in the forest all those years ago.

"Mal wait!" Merlin shouted after her.

Mal stopped, her fists clenched, and abruptly turned to face her guardian. "You're saying Lord Gaston wants to force me to marry him!"

"Not him, but someone close to him. His adopted son, Prince Benjamin of Auradon, for example!" Merlin continued to explain. "If he succeeded, nothing would stop him and King Stefan from winning the war and destroying us. All they have ever wanted is to defeat Arthur and rule our lands."

"You need to leave this convent Mal." Lancelot continued. "Arthur has already set up another safe place for you to hide in."

Mal's eyes widened in surprise for a moment before her lips pressed together in a slight grimace. This was the place she'd grown up in and which held all of her most cherished memories. "But this is my home."

Merlin slowly approached his young charge and placed two comforting hands on her shoulders. "We have no choice Mal. We need to leave. Not only for your sake but also for the safety of our own people."

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Mal's eyes lingered over the cover of her father's book clasped tightly in her hands, lost deeply in thought. She slowly released a deep breath. She'd just spent the last few hours thinking about the implications of what Lancelot had revealed. The carefree and peaceful life which she lived here made it easy for her to sometimes forget all about the Great War which still raged across the land. All the innocent lives that had been lost during these long years of war had been to keep the secret of her people safe. Were her lands really so important? Were her magical powers really so powerful? It was during times like these she wished she remembered more about her family and her Fae heritage. She just couldn't understand what power would warrant such a sacrifice. Arthur himself had nearly died to protect her from King Stefan's armies while she'd remained safely hidden in this convent. She remembered how powerless she'd felt at the time, being just a little girl, as she eagerly waited for news about his conditions.

And now the enemy had finally discovered that she was alive. They'd hunt her down forever and the people she loved were now in danger more than ever. She gently lowered her father's book on the vanity's table and looked up to stare at herself in the mirror, slowly fingering her long purple locks. She pressed her lips together and with a set jaw reached out for the pair of sheers lying beside her. Things were different this time. She wasn't a child anymore. She just couldn't stand by and let the people she loved suffer.

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"These belonged to one of the older bo-" Carlos stopped mid-sentence, his hand frozen on the doorknob of Mal's room. "What have you done?" he uttered in a shaky voice, nearly dropping the items he carried in his hands. His eyes remained widened as they whizzed from Mal's short hair to her once long purple locks spewed all across the floor.

Mal turned to face him. "Close the door!" she ordered.

"So, that's why you asked whether I'd be able to find you some male clothes." Carlos stated in understanding.

Mal returned to stare at her now short hair in the mirror. She fingered it with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Can I be mistaken for a boy?" She asked.

"Why do you want people to think you're a boy, Mal?" Carlos inquired as he touched the base of his neck. Once the initial shock wore off he wrinkled his nose and examined her tactfully. "An ugly boy actually!" he continued with a smirk. "With small hands and slim sides and-"

"Carlos!" Mal snapped, clearly irritated. "Watch it! You forget that this ugly boy could outshoot you any given day." Then suddenly remembering what she needed to tell him, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. When she opened them, she turned to face him with a grave expression. "Carlos, I'm actually being serious here! You have to promise me you will not tell anyone! Not even Merlin." She deadpanned.

Noting Mal's sudden stern demeanour, Carlos straightened himself immediately and nodded. Unlike the other orphaned kids, Carlos was not alone and was lucky enough to have a sister. They'd lived together in this convent until she was old enough to leave and look for work. She'd found a job as a maid in Auradon's castle and she worked hard every day, slowly saving up the money she needed for him to go live with her permanently. With his sister living so far away, Mal was the closest thing he had to family and so he never could deny her anything. "Mal you know I'd never break a promise to you."

Mal's expression softened for a moment as she gently smiled at him. She then gave him a long-pained look as she broke eye contact. Despite their friendly banter she cared for the young child deeply, almost like a little brother actually, and leaving him behind her was one of the two hardest things she had to do. Lying to Merlin was going to be the other but she'd taken her decision. "Carlos, I need to leave."

Carlos sighed in defeat. "Yes, I know. You're leaving tomorrow at dawn with Merlin and Lancelot. I wish I could come with you."

"I need to leave now!" She stood up and took the clothes from Carlos' outstretched hands. "On my own!"

"On your own?" Carlos repeated as he shook his head. "Why? I don't understand!"

"Carlos, innocent people have been losing their life in this war to protect me and the secret of my kingdom, a kingdom I don't even remember." She replied in a steady low-pitched voice. She paused and pushed back her shoulders. "But now the enemy knows of my existence and they won't stop looking for me. The people close to me are in danger. Even you. And I must protect Arthur and Merlin at all costs."

Carlos's eyes widened in realisation. "So that's why you want to dress as a boy. You've decided to fight in the war!"

Mal silently crossed the room in sharp paced strides. She picked up her father's book and returned to Carlos' side. "Arthur always told me how my father was a great archer. He wrote all of his secrets into this journal." She turned and made her way to her closet. "You know I don't remember my father at all Carlos. But now, for the first time, I can honour him by putting all of his teachings into practice. It'll be my way of finally being close to him." She opened her closet door and pulled out her bow and arrow. "I overheard Lancelot and Merlin talking. Tomorrow there's going to be an important battle. That's where destiny is calling me!" She stated, her chin held high as she faced Carlos. "To protect the people I love!"

Carlos's shoulder drooped. "We're never going to see each other again, Mal, right?" He asked with his voice breaking.

Mal smiled softly as knelt down in front of him. "Carlos we're always going to be friends." She paused. "Here." She said, giving him her father's journal. "Will you keep it in a safe place for me? One day I'll make sure to come back for it." Carlos nodded solemnly before embracing Mal tightly.

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Mal smoothed down the leather of her dark brown doublet and subconsciously lifted a hand to fix her short purple hair. She'd waited patiently for nightfall and then, with Carlos's help, had used a rope to slowly climb down the wall outside her room. Running away from the convent and making her way across the surrounding fields to Sir Galahad's encampment had been the easy part. She quickly hid behind a tree just outside the main wooden entrance of the campground as soon as she heard a loud cry and the sound of thundering hooves. She cautiously peered out and studied a group of horseback knights as they hastily made their way across the camp towards a large white tent at the far bottom. From what she could make out, a number of smaller white tents were neatly pitched in regular rows at either side of the pathway. That large white tent must be Sir Galahad's. Mal tightened her hold on her bow and sticking out her chest, left her hiding spot and entered the compound.

"Hey!" One of the soldiers shouted, blocking her path. "Where are you going, boy?"

"I need to speak with Sir Galahad?" Mal replied in her most confident and firm voice.

"And why do you need to speak with him?" He asked. Mal quickly glanced around her before being quickly surrounded by a small group of other soldiers.

Mal set her jaw and raised her chin. She stared him down. "Because I can help him win this battle!"

Immediately, the group of soldiers exploded in a fit of laughter. Their leader stared at her, his eyes roaming her lithe figure. Mal held her breath. For a second she feared she'd blown her cover and he'd realised she was a girl. But then he smirked in clear amusement. "If that's the case, I must take you to see him immediately. Follow me."

Mal nodded, keeping her expression blank, and started following the soldier. They walked along the trees until Mal finally spotted the large white tent. A sturdy looking knight clad in full armour and wearing a dark cloak exited the tent holding what appeared to be a map. He was followed by a tall and slender dark-skinned women in her mid 20s with long aqua hair pulled back in an elegant braid. Her dark blue tunic was covered in warm fur, clearly indicating she was part of a noble family. The knight made his way to a large table in front of him and laid down the map. Mal made out parts of their conversation as she slowly approached them.

"You see, Duchess of Seaside, we will give them the impression that they've the upper hand, all the while leading them here, in this gorge." The knight paused. "If we're able to split their armies into two, we might be able to force them to retreat."

"But King Stefan and Lord Gaston are experienced warriors. They'll immediately realise that it's a trap." The Duchess replied, furrowing her brow.

"We'll attack first. We're smaller in numbers and it's the only way I know for us to be able to win this battle." He stated.

"Sir Galahad!" The soldier cried out as he and Mal stopped a couple of metres away. "This boy needs to talk with you."

The knight lifted his head and raised his eyebrows, pausing to gaze at the newcomers. After a few moments, he straightened himself and approached the duo. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm John from Notre-Dame." Mal replied firmly. What she failed to notice was the Duchess's eyes, which narrowed at the mention of the familiar lands. "I want to join your army and use my bow to defend King Arthur."

Sir Galahad gazed at Mal intensely as if to size her up and then shook his head. "You're far too young to fight. Go home!" he ordered.

"I'm only asking to be given a chance to prove myself." She snapped back. Mal didn't back down and took a step forward. "Skill and courage do not have an age limit, Sir."

"But you're just a boy!" He argued. "Now go home!" He gave her one last stern look and turned around making his way to his horse.

Mal's eyes sparked as she glared at Galahad's retreating back. She watched as he climbed his white stead, ordering his soldiers to get ready to leave the camp within the hour. Her body tensed and she inwardly grinded her teeth. Before she could stop to think what she was doing, she nocked one of her arrows, drew the string of her bow back and shot even though he was now several meters away. She quickly reached out, shifted position slightly and shot another arrow in his direction, both whizzing through the air.

"Sir Galahad!" One of the soldiers shouted in warning, noticing the arrows slicing through the air at blinding speed.

The knight pulled the reins of his horse and turned around to see what the commotion was all about. His eyes widened when he spotted the first arrow heading in his direction. He blinked as the second arrow reached the first one from the side, breaking the former into two before it could reach the still shocked leader.

Galahad scowled at Mal before sharply pulling the reins of his horse, riding back to her. "Is this your way of respecting orders, John of Notre-Dame?!" He shouted, baring his teeth.

Mal leaned forward with a fierce look. "My arrows rarely miss their target. I could hit either King Stefan or Lord Gaston from a long distance." She paused. "I beg you, Sir. Let me join your troops and help you fight the enemy."

A long pause stretched out as the two kept glaring at each other. Finally, Sir Galahad's stern facial expression softened slightly. "So be it then!" he scoffed shaking his head. "May the Gods have mercy on your young soul!"

A bright smile lit up Mal's face as she watched him gallop away.

"Are you sure you're ready to be a soldier, boy?" A voice rung out and Mal turned to face the noble woman who was staring at her intensely. There was something odd about her but Mal couldn't quite make up what it was. "Your hands seem too delicate to me."

"Archery requires more precision then strength." Mal scoffed at her with a stern expression. "Now if you will excuse me."

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An hour later, Mal joined the other archers on a low hill overlooking the battlefield. They spread out evenly seeking cover from the trees so as not to be easily spotted by their enemies.

Mal took a deep breath and gripped her bow tightly. She gazed at the armies assembling below her as Sir Galahad let out a loud cry. The battle horn rang out and Camelot's troops raised their swords and spears and rushed out to meet King Stefan's armies across the valley.

Mal reached out for her quiver and took out an arrow. She fit it into her bow and pulled the arrow tightly against the bow string. "This is for you, Arthur!" she whispered taking aim. Her first arrow whizzed through the air and buried itself deep into the neck of one of Stefan's soldiers who tumbled to the ground unmoving. It had begun!

A/N: So here it is! I'd love to here your comments on this version of Mal and also the other characters. I did say that Carlos and Lonnie are going to be a "little" AU in this story. But they're going to be important characters to the plot.

The stage is now set and the battle is about to begin...see ya all next week to find out what will happen next.