CHAPTER THREE
Summary: Finding herself one thousand years back in the past and in the legendary Kingdom of Camelot was something Hermione had never seen coming. But with no possible way back to the future and being stuck in the past, Hermione had no option but to form a new life for herself, and hopefully without changing the timeline. Unfortunately, matters of the heart cannot be controlled and she finds herself entwined in the lives of Prince Arthur and the great and powerful sorcerer, Merlin. Hermione x Arthur pairing.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Merlin, and the BBC. I am not making a profit from writing and posting this fanfic. I'm also making some big changes to the Merlin plotline so don't be surprised that nothing matches with canon. If I'm being honest, it's been years since I last saw the series, so I'm mostly going off what I remember and episode reviews and notes. And I've decided Arthur won't be dying.
Page count: 10
Arthur searched for the young woman that had almost been executed, wanting to be sure she hadn't been injured and she'd gotten away safely. It took him a few minutes but from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a dark cloak hidden behind a hut not far from him.
Leaving Merlin, Gwen and Morgana to speak with the villagers, he closed the distance between them and stepped around the hut. She startled, visibly jumping and bringing her hand up to her chest, taking a deep breath.
He honestly hadn't meant to frighten her and now he felt terrible for having done so. He should've realised she'd be easily frightened giving what she'd just faced.
"I'm sorry for frightening you," he said, holding his hands up to show he carried no weapons. "I just wanted to ensure that you are well."
The young woman pushed herself away from the wall and turned to face him. His eyes widened slightly at his first true glance of her, and honestly, she was beautiful. Not in the way of Morgana who was striking, but rather, it was soft and pretty. Kind, he realised,
Her skin was almost as pale as Morgana's but he noticed a few freckles covering the bridge of her little button nose. Her eyes were a dark brown, something he wasn't accustomed to seeing as nearly everyone he'd met or seen had blue or green eyes. Her hair was different, too. It was long, spilling over her shoulders and falling down to just above her waistline. It was brown, a shade darker than the usual brunette and when the sun shone on it, he could see a tint of almost a reddish-purple. It wasn't smooth like Morgana's, rather it was wild with curls that didn't seem to want to be tamed. He'd never seen such hair on a woman. Yes, she was beautiful. Seeing her high cheekbones, he noted the cut on her cheek and his eyes darted down to her lips, seeing the split there, too. He couldn't explain it but he felt angry on her behalf.
"I am," she nodded. "I am not normally one to be a damsel in distress."
His eyebrow cocked of its accord, unsure if he should be amused by her words or intrigued.
"But on this occasion, I thank you for your help, I owe you my life."
"There is no thanks necessary," he replied, watching as she smoothed out her cloak for the third time.
"You're injured," she said with a tone of concern.
He frowned and lifted his hand to his cheek when she gestured to her own and he pulled it back, seeing the blood coating his fingers.
"Let's tend to that, shall we?" She said.
"I am fine, it is but a scratch," he replied, a smile pulling at his face at her concern for him, a stranger. "I must speak with the others and form a plan, Kanan will be back."
"You may do so after your injury has been seen to. It may be but a scratch, but it is still susceptible to infection. Follow me and we will have you tended to."
When she stepped around him and began to wander off, he blinked slowly in surprise, his head and eyes following and watching her movements. That had almost sounded like an order.
"Come on, we don't have all day. Kanan will be back and we don't have long to prepare our defences," she spun to face forward and continued with her walking.
Blinking once more, he realised that it was an order. He was a little annoyed that the woman thought she could give him orders and he would follow them, until he sighed in annoyance knowing that he was going to do it.
Shaking his head, he followed after her and quickly fell into step beside her, watching her from the corner of his eye as she focused her attention forward.
"Hermione!"
The young woman came to a stop and he did so, too, turning to look over his shoulder and seeing a little girl running as fast as she could towards them.
Hermione, that must've been her name he realised. It was pretty, he thought. He watched as she crouched down, catching the little girl as she barrelled into her, almost knocking her off her feet.
"Careful, little one," she laughed softly before frowning when they both heard the sniffles that sounded from her. "Elisa?"
"You got hurt, Hermione," the little girl cried.
"Oh, Sweetie," she whispered gently, cradling the young child against her and rising to her full height. "I promise, I am fine."
"I saw him hit you."
Hermione stiffened, he saw it.
She let out a sigh. "Well, it didn't hurt that much, I promise. Now, you best be getting back to your parents, I promise I'll visit soon and we'll have another reading lesson."
The little girl nodded and pulled her face from being buried in Hermione's neck, looking to her with tears falling down her face. Hermione smiled and reached up, wiping them away gently.
"Thank you for saving me," she said to Hermione.
"You are most welcome, my little ray of sunshine," she said, tapping her on the nose with a finger and the child giggled before hugging her tightly. Hermione set her back on her feet and she turned and ran off. "Be careful!" Hermione called.
"I will," she called back, only to slip and fall on the grass.
Hermione chuckled and shook her head as the little girl climbed back to her feet and continued with her running, and she returned to her journey of leading him to God knows where, seeing as they were leaving the other villagers behind.
"Your name is Hermione?"
"It is,"
"And reading lessons?" He questioned curiously, wishing to break the silence.
"Yes," she nodded. "I teach both the children and adults how to read and write, they seem to enjoy it."
"If you don't mind my asking, what happened with the girl? Why was Kanan going to execute you?"
She let out a puff of air, trying and failing to remove strands of hair from her face and she pushed it over her shoulder in annoyance, amusement bubbling within him at the sight.
"I heard the noise of the village being attacked and left my home. Elisa was almost trampled by one of Kanan's men and his horse, but I was able to reach her in time. I have to say, I've never ran so fast in my life, she gave me quite the fright. As for Kanan himself, he was threatening the life of one of the villagers and then held his son hostage. I cannot stand by when children are exposed to violence and cruelty, so I stepped in. I was able to get Tobyn away from him and back to his father. When I questioned his humanity and informed him that I was most definitely not scared of him, he lost his temper."
"You weren't scared?" He questioned in surprise and intrigue.
"No, far from it. I have faced things in my life that are far more frightening that Kanan and his men. He hit me and when I still wouldn't bow down to him, he punched me in the stomach."
He faltered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword and his eyes watching her calm features carefully.
"After which, I informed him my Grandmother hits harder than he does."
"Your Grandmother?" He questioned, blinking slowly in surprise.
"Yes," she turned to smile at him.
Her teeth were white and perfect, far too perfect to be a poor villager. And she could read and write, too? Arthur had the feeling the young woman would be very interesting.
"And she's been dead for twelve years, needless to say, he did not appreciate such a comment, which is why he wished to execute me."
He stared at her before a snort he hadn't been able to contain left him. Well, she was certainly amusing, he thought.
"Here we are," she said, gesturing towards a wooden hut by the woods and it was so well disguised that he hadn't noticed it before.
It looked a little bigger than the other huts and when she opened the door and allowed him to step inside first, his eyes scanned his surroundings. It was small, practical and tidy. There were only two doors in the hut, the one he'd just walked through and a second by the kitchen area. He was very much aware that it was a single room but it seemed to be split into sections, the kitchen, a bedchamber and a table, two cots and a cabinet containing remedies and ingredients. He recognised some of them from his visits to Gaius' chambers and he looked to her curiously.
She smiled as she stepped in after him and closed the door behind her. "I am the village's physician," she answered his unasked question.
His eyes widened slightly at the news. A woman physician? He hadn't heard of such a thing.
"If you would please make yourself comfortable on that table," she gestured to the table on the side of the room with the cots, "And I shall be with you momentarily."
He silently crossed over to it and settled himself atop the surface, one foot brushing the floor and the other dangling, swaying back and forth as he rested his hands on his thighs, his eyes searching his surroundings a little more. He noted a lack of personal items which he found odd as it was clearly her home as well as the physician's chambers.
His eyes fell to her, watching her carefully as she retrieved a bucket from behind the second door, a storage room he realised, and she searched for something else, too. Moments later, she approached and set the bucket down on the table beside him along with a handful of cloths. He took a moment to gather the information he knew.
She was both a physician and an educator, meaning she was likely very well educated and intelligent, too. Her teeth were too well looked after for her to be a poor villager. And her earrings. He'd noted, from her position stood before him, that she had her ears pierced and yet they looked to be made of silver. A poor villager wouldn't have such a possession. Things weren't adding up, yet, he couldn't stop himself from watching her. It was almost as if he were drawn to her.
A knock on the door sounded and Hermione frowned before stepping away from him and heading for the door, pulling it open to reveal a young boy that looked to Hermione with a toothy grin.
"Tobyn? What can I help you with?" She asked softly.
Tobyn? He thought. Wasn't that the name of the boy she'd saved?
"I wanted to thank you for helping me," he said.
"You are very welcome, Sweetie, but I don't require a thank you. I would do anything to ensure your safety."
He grinned at her before removing his hands from behind his back and revealing that he held a bunch of hastily ripped up wildflowers.
"I brought you flowers."
Hermione blinked slowly before a smile pulled at her face. "Thank you, Tobyn, that was very kind of you," she replied, taking the flowers from him.
"I wish to marry you."
Arthur's eyebrows rose high on his forehead and Hermione laughed softly.
"I shall make you a deal, young Tobyn. If I am not married when you reach the age of adulthood, then I shall marry you," she said. The young boy grinned and nodded furiously, a laugh falling from Hermione once more. "Thank you for the flowers, they are beautiful and I have to say, Tobyn, you are the first young man to ever bring me such a gift."
"But you're so beautiful," he blushed.
Hermione smiled at him. "Thank you, Tobyn, but not everyone shares your opinion. Now, you get back to your father. I shall visit with you tonight to read you a story before bed," she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the young boy's cheek.
He gasped and blushed darkly before a large grin spread across his face and he turned and darted out the door, shutting it behind him. Hermione shook her head and filled a wooden cup with some water before placing the wildflowers in the makeshift vase. Standing back, she smiled to herself and then turned back to her patient, no matter how small an injury, he was still her patient.
"I believe you have just made that boy's day," Arthur spoke.
"I do my best to ensure the happiness of every child in this village, whether they have a mother or not, sadly, Tobyn doesn't. She died a year ago, so when I arrived he took a shining to me."
Arthur's interest was piqued. "You were not born in Ealdor?" He questioned, would his suspicions be confirmed?
"No, I have only been here a year myself. My arrival here was unexpected for both myself and the villagers, yet they were incredibly kind and allowed me to stay. In return, I do what I can to ensure their safety, even if that means that I sacrifice my own."
So, she wasn't a poor villager. Who was she? Where did she hail from?
The handsome young man before her watched her intensely and she turned her eyes away from him, grabbing a cloth and dampening it with cold water and she stepped closer to him.
"This may sting a little," she warned and he nodded. "Would you mind terribly if I touched you?"
"No, I wouldn't," he replied, his eyes locked with hers. He really wouldn't, he wanted her to touch him.
Reaching up, she gently cupped his chin with her fingers and tilted his head, her eyes scanning his cheek and seeing that the wound was a little deeper than she'd thought but she could still heal it. She lifted the cloth and cleaned away the blood first before giving him a look of warning and then gently swiping it over the cut. He winced but otherwise made no move to stop her.
"If you don't mind my asking, are you married?"
Hermione's eyes fluttered to his, giving him a curious look and then moving back to her task. "No, I am not married."
"Courting?"
"No, I am not being courted either."
Arthur frowned. "You don't have any suitors?" The Prince asked, his eyes trailing her soft, beautiful features and finding it hard to believe she didn't have a man wishing for her hand in marriage, especially after learning she was a physician and a teacher. He had seen how the children of the village had responded to her and she was brave and willing to sacrifice her life for another. How did she not have a suitor?
"No, the men in this village are either too old, too young, are already married or are widowed. But I don't mind much," she answered. "I don't take well to being ordered about, my father always used to say that the man who married me would have to be a Saint to be able to handle my stubbornness and temper," she said, a fondness to her tone. "I wish to accomplish more in my life before I marry and am expected to have children. My work with the people of this village is important to me and to them, and I know there are others in this world who need help, too. I wish to help as many people as I possibly can."
"I believe you are the kindest woman I have ever been in the presence of," he replied, surprised by her words. Had he ever met such a woman who cared for others more than herself? Who cared for the lives of others more than her own? Who was determined to help as many people as she possibly could?
She gave him a small smile. "If you have the means and ability to help someone in need, then you should. A single kind act can go a long way, and if everyone performed a single act of kindness a day, I believe the world would be a better place for everyone. And now, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a question."
"Of course," he nodded briefly.
She sent him an annoyed glance and repositioned his head with her hand that was still gently grasping his chin, her fingers soft and warm. He was quite amused with her response and briefly considered doing it again to see how she'd react.
"What is your name?"
He blinked slowly, had he not already introduced himself? He realised he hadn't. His father would kill him for his lack of manners.
"I am Arthur, Prince of Camelot."
Hermione froze, the cloth dropping from her fingers and landing on the floor. King-Prince Arthur! Prince Arthur of Camelot had just saved her life! She was tending to and conversing with the Prince Arthur. Never in her life did she think she'd meet Prince Arthur.
Her eyes moved to his, seeing him watching her worriedly at her reaction. She couldn't help staring. The accounts of Arthur had always stated his bravery and kindness, and although he was described to have been handsome, she thought the books hadn't done him justice.
Godric! This was Prince Arthur she was tending to. Her eyes darted down to his hands resting on his thighs and she spotted there was no ring on his ring finger. He wasn't yet married.
"Hermione?" He questioned.
"Sorry," she muttered, bending to pick up the cloth to prevent anyone slipping on it and she retrieved a clean one, dipping it into the bucket of water and returning to her previous task. "I confess, I am not accustomed to treating patients such as yourself, and now, I feel nervous."
"There is no need to feel as such, you are doing a wonderful job," he praised. Hermione almost blushed. Almost. "The court physician at Camelot would approve and I'm not afraid to admit your bedside manner is certainly better."
She laughed lightly. "Thank you, how would you prefer I refer to you? Your Highness, Your Grace, Prince..."
"Arthur," he interrupted. "Just Arthur."
Once she was done, she reached for the healing salve and with soft fingers, she placed the salve over his cut. He winced once more but he soon relaxed as the stinging was replaced by a cool, tingling sensation. She stepped back and wiped her hands on the cloth.
"Well then, just Arthur," she started and he snorted at her in amusement. "I believe you are all done here. I give you permission to leave."
"Permission?" He asked, his bright blue orbs sparkling and his eyes crinkling.
God, was he handsome!
"Yes, when on this table, you are my patient and I shan't let you leave unless I am positive you are well enough to make it out of the door," she explained. His mouth twitched in amusement. "I am quite the mother hen, too."
"I've noticed," he replied, his mouth pulling into a smile, but it was soon wiped off his face when she removed her cloak.
He wasn't staring at her odd choice of clothing, but rather, her throat and seeing the red hand-shaped marks that had yet to fade. His eyes darted to her pretty face, landing on the cut on her cheek and the split in her lip. If he hadn't planned on killing Kanan before, he certainly was now. How could a man hurt such a kind creature as the woman before him?
"It's your turn," he said, standing from the table until he towered over her.
"I'm sorry?" She questioned confused.
He reached up, gesturing to his cheek the way she'd done earlier and her eyes widened in realisation.
"Oh, I had forgotten. It's but a scratch, I shall tend to it later."
"Hermione, a scratch may still cause infection," he informed her and she scowled at him.
"I don't appreciate my words being used against me, but I admit, that was nicely done. I shall tend to it now, you should head out and speak to the others."
"I will, after you've been seen to," he responded, picking up the cloth and dunking it into the water bucket, folding it until he found an area free of his own blood and he held his hand out, hovering.
She nodded, perching herself on the table and holding her breath when his hand gently grasped her chin and tilted her head the way she'd done to him. He gently swiped at her cheekbone, paying close attention to his task and she winced the slightest bit, him giving her a worried look but she ignored it.
He dipped his fingers into the salve and slathered it on her cheek, wiping his hands once he was done. His hand grasped her chin once more and turned her to face him, a frown pulling at his brow as he stared at her split lip.
"I will clean it but otherwise can do nothing else due to the area. If I apply the healing paste, I might accidentally ingest it and it may be poisonous."
"I'm going to kill him," he spoke softly, so softly she barely heard him.
"I am not one to agree with killing in cold blood, but I do believe in self-defence and I understand that sometimes, the only option is to kill. If you feel that killing Kanan is the only way to protect Ealdor and its people, then I shall support you. You have my trust and belief."
"Belief?" He questioned quietly. "You barely know me."
"That's not entirely true. I'm a remarkably good judge of character, yet I know more about you than you realise," she said, a secret smile pulling at her mouth. "I believe that one day, you shall be a wonderful King to Camelot. You travelled from the comfort and safety of your Kingdom to help Ealdor, which lies in the Kingdom of another and who refuses to give help to its people. You were and are willing to sacrifice your life for those you have never met. You saved my life. You have a kind heart, Arthur, and I believe you will do what is best for Ealdor and when the time for it should come, Camelot, too," she said softly, her gaze locked with his.
"I..."
The door to her home suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall and Arthur spun around while Hermione's eyes landed on the intruder.
"William!" Hermione spoke in outrage, glaring angrily at the baker. "How dare you just barge in here? Do I barge into your home?"
His eyes darted between her and Prince Arthur who stood beside her, his hand automatically having reached to rest on the hilt of his sword and ready to draw it should he need to, whilst he watched William with a cautious gaze.
"Yes, all the time," he answered, some of his anger fading and being replaced with amusement.
"Yes, well," Hermione shifted on the table. "You don't have patients to tend to and I know you enjoy my company, I'm the only thing keeping you from falling asleep whilst baking."
He shook his head, his eyes darting to Arthur and then to her, spying her injuries and the anger was back. "What were you thinking? Hubert told me what you did! You could've been killed, Hermione. Killed."
"I was well aware of the consequences of my actions, William. I would rather it be my life than Tobyn's. I would rather it be me than Hubert or Elisa. I am not like the others, of which you very well know," she said, giving him a pointed look. "I do not back down to bullies. Now, if you would kindly leave, I will be sure to visit with you as soon as I am done here."
"Gods, Woman! You're the most infuriating being in the entire world!" He growled, storming out of the door.
"Shut the door behind you!" Hermione called. "Were you born in a barn?"
William strode back into the hut, grabbed the edge of the door and glared at her.
"You know I was," he glared, slamming the door shut and storming off.
"I know," she called after him. "But you have to admit, William, it was funny!"
Hermione turned to look at Arthur, seeing his perplexed expression and she laughed lightly, drawing his gaze.
"I am sorry about him, he's got a bit of a temper on him," she said. "And I can't help but antagonise him, it is rather fun."
"You said you're not being courted and you have no suitors," he spoke.
"I'm not and I don't, William is a friend, a very good friend, more like my brother really and he's very protective of me."
"I can understand his need to be so," he replied, his eyes watching her intensely.
She cleared her throat. "Well, Arthur, if you should find yourself needing anything, I shall either be here or wandering the village, in any case, I won't have gone far. If I can help you in any way, I will. You better get yourself out there, these people need your help."
He watched her for a moment longer before nodding, his mouth pulling into a smile. He gave her the slightest bow –she didn't blush! She didn't!- and then turned and left out of the door.
"Merlin!" She heard him shout as the door closed behind him.
Hermione froze. Merlin? The Merlin? He was here! Wait, the second man she'd caught a glimpse of...He was Merlin.
Hermione almost fell off the table.
