CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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
"Sire? Sire?"
Arthur startled awake, his face instantly being assaulted by a huge mass of hair and feeling a body pressed against his. His eyes opened and he lifted his head, looking down at himself in surprise. Hermione was lying in front of him and facing in the opposite direction, his cape wrapped around her like a cocoon and her head lying atop her empty satchels. He was laid behind her, his chest pressed against her back and his arm hooked over her waist, holding her to him gently. The fact he'd taken off his armour and chainmail before sleeping meant he could feel her smaller body fitting against his perfectly and he could feel the heat radiating off her.
He wasn't even sure how he'd found himself in such a position. He remembered Hermione being the first to fall asleep and he'd been the last, and though he'd laid down beside her, it seems he had obviously moved closer to her in his sleep.
"Sire?"
He heard a snigger and Arthur blinked away the sleep from his eyes, realising that daylight had returned and his three Knights were already awake and watching him in amusement.
"That is highly improper," Sir Leon teased with a smirk.
Arthur scowled. "She is small, she needs to be kept warm," he defended, smirks pulling at their faces at his excuse.
"You don't have to explain to us, Sire," Sir Brennis said. "Rather, I would be more worried about him," he gestured to the left with a wiggle of his index finger and an amused smile on his face.
Following the direction, Arthur found his gaze locking with the narrowed, bright blue eyes of Hermione's pet wolf. He was laid by the smoking fire pit on his stomach, his head resting against his paws and his sole focus was on him, specifically, how close he was to Hermione. Arthur had honestly never met an animal more protective of a human. And he certainly hadn't known wolves were capable of narrowing their eyes as much as he was doing at that moment.
Slowly, he sat up and removed his arm from around Hermione, ignoring the way he seemed to miss the heat, the feel of her body pressed against his. Apparently seeming to be happy with his actions, the wolf crawled forward on his stomach until he reached Hermione, he nudged at her shoulder gently with his nose and he licked her cheek with his large tongue. Hermione let out an adorable sleepy noise and she shifted in her sleep, her arm broke free of his cape and she raised it, hooking it over the wild animal, burying her face against his fur and snuggling against him. The wolf let out an almost purring sound before licking her hand and closing his eyes.
Arthur stared, unsure of how to feel or respond to such a sight.
"Sire, if we wish to return to Camelot before nightfall, we must leave," Sir Geraint informed him.
Knowing he was right, Arthur nodded his head and climbed to his feet, reaching for his discarded chainmail and armour.
"I am aware, Sir Geraint. Ensure everything is packed away and ready for our leaving. We shall allow Hermione to rest a little longer until then."
Nodding, his Knights shared a glance and then turned their attention to readying for their return to Camelot. Arthur, not wanting to wake Hermione, quietly reached for the pillowcase, staring at it intently and wondering what secrets it held. He also retrieved the beautifully crafted sword –and reminded himself to ask Hermione if she knew who was responsible for such work- before he secured them both to his mare's saddlebag.
He and his companions rotated taking turns to go about their business and visit the nearby stream, taking their horses and allowing them to drink their fill as well as refilling their water skins. When Arthur returned to the packed up campsite, his men were preparing to mount their horses and Hermione was gone.
"She's fine," Merlin spoke before he'd even been given chance to ask where she was or reprimand them for losing her. "She woke after you left and needed a little privacy, her wolf is with her so I doubt she'll get into too much trouble."
His attention was pulled by the rustling of leaves being stood on and he looked to see Hermione stumbling out from the trees and towards the path, almost slipping down the little hill she had to climb down.
She lost her balance and tipped forward and luckily he'd been close enough to prevent her from falling. She had an annoyed look on her face as she stared down to her feet and Arthur's gaze followed, a questioning look appearing on his face when he noticed she was bearing all of her weight on her right foot.
"What happened?" He frowned.
Her head lifted and she turned to look over her shoulder, glaring at a point in the distance. "I fell into a rabbit hole," she said, her annoyance evidenced by the slight grumble in her voice. "And I hope it was the rabbit Akela ate," she said meanly and he found himself snorting in amusement until her eyes snapped to him and he was the focus of her ire. "It's not funny, I hurt my ankle, I think it's twisted."
Thankfully, he was saved as her wolf made an appearance, unfortunately, he spooked the horses and Arthur had to rush over to his mare to try and calm her, the rest of his travelling companions doing the same. The horses had already been sleeping when then wolf had approached the night before and he was far away enough from them earlier that morning that they either hadn't seen him as a threat or hadn't noticed him at all. But after a little while, they'd managed to settle the horses and they each mounted theirs, only waiting on himself and Hermione.
As they didn't have a spare horse and he knew there was nowhere they'd be able to buy one, and really, there was no point in doing so giving it would only take a day's ride to reach Camelot, Arthur had every intention of sitting Hermione on his mare with him. The thought of allowing her to ride with another had his stomach twisting in a way he didn't like, so, it was best to avoid it.
Looking over to her, she was stood with his cape folded neatly and resting over her arm as they were crossed over her chest and she was staring down at her injured ankle in annoyance. His mouth pulled into a smile but he quickly covered it, not wanting to face her wrath. Surprisingly, -given how kind he knew her to be- her glare was quite terrifying.
"Hermione," He called her name, pulling her attention.
She looked to him, his hand which he held out towards her and then to his horse, her eyes widening slightly in understanding.
"We have a little bit of a problem," she said, her folded arms dropping and she clutched his cape between her clasped hands.
"And that would be?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, I've never ridden a horse," she admitted, looking embarrassed.
"I beg your pardon?" He responded, blinking slowly.
"I've never ridden a horse," she repeated.
"I thought I'd heard you correctly," he said, looking to her strangely. How had she never ridden a horse? He'd seen that Ealdor had horses. And surely her Kingdom had them, too.
"I had no need to in Ealdor and we didn't use horses in Hogwarts, we had other means of travel."
"Meaning?" He asked, partially surprised and partially intrigued.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she muttered, piquing his intrigued further but he knew she wouldn't explain any more than she already had.
"You'll be fine," he replied with a reassuring smile.
She didn't look convinced but she limped forward, sending a quick glare to her injured foot before returning her gaze to him. However, before she placed her hand in his, she unfolded his cape and reached up, placing it over his shoulders and fastening it into place around his neck. She nodded, satisfied that it wasn't going to fall off and then placed her hand in his gloved one as he slowly led her forward, being mindful of her injury.
He sensed her nervousness when they reached his mare and he knew it would be a little more difficult than normal as she couldn't bear weight on the injured foot, but after instructing her to pull herself up using her grip on the saddle and reins, he placed his hands on her hips and gave her the lift she needed to swing her leg over the horse. Once he was sure she was in place, he quickly mounted the horse behind her, his hands reaching for the reins, caging her body in-between his arms with her back pressed to his chest.
He wasn't going to complain. Though, it would be difficult to see given the size of Hermione's hair and seeming to know this, too, she removed a tie from around her wrist and reached up, securing her hair into a knot on top of her head, it being pulled back from her face and it no longer obstructing his view. Well, that was a style he'd never seen before; maybe it was a custom of those from her Kingdom. He'd already come to understand they were very different from Camelot, especially with the celebrating of magic and the no use of horses.
"Ready?" He asked, a smile tugging at his mouth when he saw her shiver as he spoke against her ear.
"Akela?" She called softly, looking down at the wolf and not acknowledging his close proximity. "Are you ready?" She asked the wolf.
No longer being surprised at the way the wolf understood her, he didn't react when the large wolf let out a bark before he turned and headed down the path, walking ahead of the rest of them.
"He'll take the lead and alert us to anything we need to be aware of," she said. "He won't go far, unless he spots a rabbit that is, they're his weakness. Rabbits and surprisingly he likes cheese, too."
A laugh escaped him before he turned the horse and walked past the rest of his travel companions, taking up the mantle of the leader of the group.
~000~000~000~
"How long are you staying in Camelot?" He found himself asking.
They'd journeyed a half a day's ride and in that time, they'd made a few stops to allow the horses to rest and be watered and to have a quick meal of bread and cheese, before continuing on with their journey.
The journey had been uneventful and Arthur had found himself relaxing, no longer needing to be on his guard as he knew Hermione's wolf would alert them to trouble, in fact, he'd brought attention to two men who were travelling in the opposite direction and although they hadn't been a threat, he'd appreciated it all the same. The wolf was smart, he realised, very smart.
Hermione kept his attention, either engaging him in conversation or quizzing him on the history of Camelot, which he thought a little odd as no one ever asked him such questions, but he reminded himself of how intelligent she was and he soon understood she had an interest in learning, no matter the topic. She'd inquired about the reasoning behind the outlawing of magic and he told her what he knew as honestly as he could, and she'd asked about Gwen, too, which was definitely an odd topic of conversation.
If she wasn't talking to him, she was conversing with Merlin who seemed to have finally gotten control over his horse as he rode beside them, that was, until, Arthur grew tired of his manservant's laugh and he lightly kicked his horse, gaining a bit of speed to leave him behind. But more often than not, they rode in silence, the sound of the horses' hooves against the ground, the conversations happening behind him and Hermione's gentle humming surrounding him, he was certain she wasn't even aware she was doing it.
"I'm not sure," she answered. "I prepared Ealdor for my leaving."
"Prepared?" He questioned, sitting a little taller, his back pressing against her chest further.
"I've trained two apprentices to be the village's physicians. They were devastated that I left, Elisa cried for hours and Tobyn reminded me of our marriage arrangement should I still be unmarried when he reaches the age of maturity," she said, sounding both amused and guilty.
"You are not going back?" He said, trying to keep the hope he felt at that moment from spilling into his voice.
"No, I've done all I can for them and they don't need me anymore. It's time I moved on and found others that need my help. I promised both you and Merlin I'd visit Camelot and this time I'll have the opportunity to see the city without the risk of being captured and executed for breaking into the castle and the Prince's chambers," she replied.
He laughed. "How did you do that?"
"If I told you I'd have to kill you," she said and he snorted. "I'm not quite sure how long I'll stay, it depends on whether or not I believe I've found somewhere I wish to call home. As much as I loved Ealdor, it wasn't my home, not truly. Maybe Camelot will be that for me."
Arthur truly hoped it would be and if he had his way, he'd make sure she thrived in Camelot, that she accomplished everything she wished to. Camelot was beautiful and peaceful, richer than most but he knew that not every citizen had a plentiful life; he knew there were poor, hungry people, especially in the lower parts of the city. He did what he could for them, bargained with his father and their councillors to offer better care, but until he was King, his hands were tied.
~000~000~000~
Night had fallen and as they drew nearer to the city gates, Arthur's arm tightened around Hermione's stomach automatically.
They'd stopped twice more during their journey and the last time, Hermione had fallen down another rabbit hole –they'd all dealt with her displeasure, his Knights all but cowering when she turned a murderous glare their way for laughing at her- and injured her ankle further and now she struggled to walk.
As night crept in, the wind picked up and a chill settled in the air, Arthur had pulled his cape to cover Hermione's shivering form, her only being clad in her shirt and breeches after the loss of her clothing. The thick fabric as well as being so close to him, had aided in fighting off the chill as she buried her hands in the fabric and kept it tucked against her. Not long later, she'd fallen asleep –which he knew can't have been comfortable for her- with her body twisted in such a way that her shoulder was pressed against his chest and her head was tilted, her cheek pressing against the armour of his shoulder. Wishing to prevent her from falling, his arm had wrapped around her waist and was resting against her stomach over the fabric of his cape. He knew he'd received strange, amused glances from his companions but he'd diligently ignored them, refusing to comment on the matter. That had been an hour ago.
He halted to a stop before the gates and he cast a glance down to the large wolf that had narrowed eyes as he visibly sniffed at the air.
"You don't have to follow us," he spoke, feeling ridiculous for talking to the wild animal as if it would understand him, but if he knew what Hermione was saying, logic dictated he'd understand him, too.
The wolf lifted his head, giving him a look that all but said he wasn't leaving Hermione alone without his protection and though he still thought it odd, he marvelled at the loyalty and protectiveness of the wolf given that it was willing to leave the comfort of the wild, his natural habitat, and follow her into the city.
"Very well," he said, "Stay at my side," he instructed before gently kicking his horse and she moved forward.
The guards at the entrance gates barely gave them a second look except for nodding their heads and bowing, chorusing a 'Sire,' as they passed, the horses hiding the large wolf at his side.
As expected of the late hour, the city was quiet and they crossed paths with no one as they made their way to the castle. When they stepped through the castle gates and into the courtyard and the torches lighting up the area, he was surprised to see his father stood by the entrance doors, looking as regal and commanding as always.
The guards in the courtyard, all noticing the large wolf, pulled their swords and held them at the ready. Several of them slowly approached, their weapons raised in preparation to strike it down and the wolf lowered into a threatening, defensive stance, his ears flat against his head, his teeth bared and loud, vicious snarls of warning leaving him.
"Enough!" Arthur's voice rang clear in the courtyard. "No harm is to come to the wolf."
"Sire?" An armoured guard questioned confused.
"No harm is to come to the wolf," he repeated, his voice loud for all to hear. "He is only protecting his Lady. If you do not harm her, he will not harm you. Tell all the guards, Knights, cooks, handmaidens, manservants, anyone one in the castle, leave the wolf alone and he shall not bother you. He is of no threat to your safety unless you make it so. Is that understood?"
"Sire," a chorus sounded as the guards slowly, cautiously lowered their swords and stowed them away.
"Thank you," he heard Hermione mutter and he peered down at her, seeing that her eyes were still closed and she still looked to be sleeping.
"I mean it, Hermione, you are both safe here, so long as my father is on the throne and I am the heir and crown Prince, you will face no threat," he replied softly,
He unwound his arm from around her, unclasped his cape so he wouldn't injure himself or pull her off when he dismounted his horse, and very carefully, he reached up, pulling her still half-asleep form off the horse and into his arms. Seeing as she didn't protest, move or that she couldn't walk anyway, he saw no point in putting her on the ground, so he walked away from his horse as a guard tended to her, and made his way towards the entrance doors with Hermione in his arms, her head tilted and pressing against his shoulder as she breathed slowly and deeply.
"Father," Arthur greeted, halting on the steps below the King of Camelot.
His father raised an eyebrow, his eyes carefully scanning Hermione's sleeping face and then her being carried in his arms.
"We have a discussion to be had."
"Of course, Father," he agreed. "But first I must take Hermione to Gaius, she was injured and we had limited supplies, and this morning she hurt her ankle and is unable to walk."
His father eyed him carefully. "Very well, I shall be in the throne room, do not keep me waiting long."
"Father," he tipped his head in acknowledgement before climbing the remaining steps and quickly making his way through the castle and to the physician's chambers.
Arthur realised that with Hermione in his arms, she was far too light for what she should be, but then he remembered that Ealdor was a poor village with little resources even before Kanan had terrorised them. Four months was not enough time to build up their stores and that meant her food intake wouldn't have increased, which is why she felt too light. Looking down at her face in the flickering light of the torches that lit the way, he could still see that her eyes were slightly sunken and her cheekbones were sticking out a little too much, even as the curls that had sprung free of the restraint tried to cover it.
When he reached his destination, he kicked on the door twice and it soon opened, Gaius' raised eyebrow –intentional or not, he wasn't certain- greeting him.
"Well, this is unexpected," Gaius commented, opening the door wider and stepping back to allow him access into the room.
Crossing through the doorway, he headed for the closest cot and gently set Hermione down, readjusting his cape so it better covered her frame.
Hearing a noise of surprise and a table being knocked into with the items on the surface rattling, Arthur sent Gaius a threatening look when Hermione shifted at the sound. Seeing the large wolf step into the room and Gaius' eyes trained on it in terror, Arthur's mouth twitched in amusement, wondering if his expression had been the same the night before.
"He belongs to Hermione."
"Sire?" Gaius questioned quietly, as if not wanting to draw the wolf's attention to himself.
"He is Hermione's," he replied. "If you don't give him reason to harm you, he won't. I have learned that if he is left alone, he is quiet and all but invisible."
"And what reason would I give it to harm me?"
"If he believes you are a threat to Hermione, he will protect her."
Gaius cleared his throat and slowly approached the cot to stand beside him, one eye still trained on the wolf stood by the door with narrowed eyes.
"What happened?" He asked, seeing the dried healing paste on Hermione's forehead from the second coating they'd placed on it earlier in the day.
"She was attacked by the bandits we left in search of. Her forehead appears to be healing as it should but her right arm is more of an issue. She was cut by a knife or dagger, all we had was water and bandages. She instructed me on what to do but I'm certain it will need taking care of. This morning she fell down a rabbit hole and injured her ankle and earlier during the day she did so again. She's been unable to walk on it and I believe she said it was swollen."
Looking down at the sleepy young woman, Arthur found that he didn't want to leave her but he knew he couldn't keep his father waiting.
"I shall leave her in your capable hands as I must speak with my father, but I will be back in the morning to check on her progress. The wolf will stay by her side; she said he is house trained so if he wishes to be outdoors, I'm certain he'll let you know. Take good care of her Gaius," Arthur spoke, his final words being an order, not a suggestion.
He turned on his heel and headed for the door but as he passed the wolf, he froze when the wolf lifted his head to brush against the back of his hand. Looking down at the wolf, his eyes widened in surprise when he nudged at his hand like a dog wanting attention and as he'd seen Hermione do, he slowly raised his hand, placing it on the wolf's large head, his fingers carding through his thick soft fur as he gave him a scratch.
The wolf pulled back, licked at his hand and then walked towards Hermione's cot, sitting down beside her like a bodyguard and watching Gaius' every step. Bemused with the behaviour of the wolf, Arthur felt a smile tug at his mouth. Well, it seemed the overprotective wild animal approved of him.
As he contemplated what that may mean, the smile didn't leave his face until he reached the throne room and the guards pulled the large doors open to allow him entrance. When he stepped inside, the torches lit the room with glowing fire and his father was the only one present as he sat on his throne.
"How was your mission?" The King asked.
"Successful, Father. We learned there was a group of seven bandits, we found their camp and ensured they will no longer be an issue."
"And the girl?"
Arthur felt his breath leave him. What was he going to tell his father? The truth, he supposed.
"Her name is Hermione. We found her on the path to Camelot. She was attacked by the bandits and left without her belongings and injured."
"I have spoken with Sirs Leon, Brennis and Geraint, Arthur," his father informed him. "They have told me of your protectiveness of the girl, of your anger to her having been injured. They have told me that you already knew who she was when you found her."
Arthur's finger tapped nervously against the hilt of his sword as he replied, "That is true, Father. I first met Hermione when I travelled to the village of Ealdor to aid with the ridding of the bandits."
His father gave him a knowing look. "And you have fallen for her, have you not?"
Arthur pursed his lips. "No, Father."
"I do not believe you," he sighed.
"I do not love, Hermione."
"No, but you are fond of her, incredibly so I would say, given the account of events from the Knights. I have seen you refuse a marriage offer many a time over the years, Arthur, but since you have returned from Ealdor, I have witnessed a change in you and I believe I now know why and what the cause may be. You know you cannot marry a commoner, Arthur. You are the Prince of Camelot."
"I know, Father, but Hermione...I do not believe she is a poor villager. She was not born to Ealdor but had only been there a year before we met. She is incredibly intelligent, she was teaching the children to read and write, and she was the villager's physician."
"A woman physician?" His father questioned, looking quite amused by the notion.
"Yes, Father. I've been under her care and she is truly brilliant. I've witnessed her practices and healing methods, some of which I have never seen Gaius use. She was able to seal Merlin's sword inflicted wound without cauterisation, she stitched it back together like a seamstress would a dress. I witnessed her pull a man back from death, he had an arrow in his back but she did not give up and she worked tirelessly to save him."
"Is that so?" He muttered thoughtfully.
"Yes, she is too well educated and too well-spoken to have been born and raised in a village. She wears silver in her ears and around her neck. Her clothes, despite being odd, are of a good quality."
His father shifted in his seat before he reached down and behind his throne, the gold, silver and rubies glinting in the firelight as his father held Hermione's sword in his hand.
"And what of this?"
"It is Hermione's."
"Are you positive she did not steal it?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"She said it wasn't stolen but that it was given to her for safekeeping. She said it once belonged to a very important man."
"Arthur, this is not the sword of a villager, this is not the sword of a guard," he said and Arthur nodded in agreement. "Nor is this a sword of a nobleman, this, I am certain, is a sword for a King. Why would a young woman have such a weapon? It is clear this sword is priceless and has been crafted in a way I have never before seen. You say she was not born of Ealdor, what do you know of her past?"
Arthur pursed his lips in thought, recalling all of his memories. "I do not know much, Father," he responded. "She doesn't wish to speak of it. From what I have learned, she belonged to the Kingdom of Hogwarts."
"I have never heard of such a Kingdom."
"No, but she says it is a three month's journey to reach their territory. She was friends with the children of a Lord and Lady Weasley and she says they raised her as part of their family, along with her friend who has now taken the mantle of Lord Potter. She has said that her Kingdom was in times of war and that is why she left. That is all I know. I believe that she is..."
"Arthur, you know what is expected of you," the King interrupted.
"But, Father..."
"Why are so fond of this girl? So much so, that you are unable to consider the marriage offers of others that will seal alliances and bring prosperity to Camelot."
"I'm not sure I can adequately explain it, but if you speak with her for yourself, I suspect you will understand."
His father eyed him cautiously before nodding. "Very well, bring her to me."
"She is being treated by Gaius, I shall bring her to you tomorrow."
"I look forward to hearing what this woman has to say. You may go, Arthur."
"Goodnight, Father," Arthur tipped his head and turned on his heel to leave the room.
He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried.
