CHAPTER TWENTY
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.
AN
I'm too bloody tired to answer questions or reply to messages so I will do so at the weekend. I survived my first night shift, went home, had five hours sleep and then was back on shift, thankfully it was only a few hours but now my bed is calling. So, enjoy whilst I do a rather good impression of a corpse.
Page count: 8
Hermione's start to the morning hadn't been all that pleasant. She'd been awake and dressed for the day long before Ginevra had the chance to wake her. When the young girl had arrived with breakfast, she'd spilt Hermione's tea all over the small dining table and almost dropped her food but luckily Hermione had been able to save it.
Ever since, Ginevra had been a sniffling, shaking mess as she stood by the door, eyes downcast whilst Hermione ate as much of her food as she could manage, noticing that there was surprisingly more than there had been the previous day.
Once she'd finished her breakfast and Ginevra returned her dishes to the kitchens, Hermione took the opportunity to add a hidden pocket into her soft purple dress, conjured a small pouch and placed a handful of coins inside before stashing it in her pocket. By the time she'd finished, Ginevra returned and with the young girl and Akela by her side, they left her chambers.
They headed through the castle and towards the entrance courtyard where annoyingly, Hermione found two guards who stood to attention as soon as she came into view. They both wore brown breeches tucked into brown leather boots, a red tunic bearing a golden dragon on the chest, chainmail and a helmet and they both carried spears and swords were strapped to their hips.
"Your Highness," the first spoke as they both bowed. "We have been assigned to escort you out of the castle for your protection."
"Wonderful," she muttered. She shouldn't have been surprised as King Uther had ordered it, but still, she'd hoped he would change his mind. "In that case, please remove your helmets so I may look upon the faces of my protectors."
They shared a surprised glance before reaching up with their free hand to remove their helmets, showing their faces. They were younger than Hermione had thought they would be, maybe in their early-twenties but definitely no older. They both had tanned skin but one was a shade lighter than the other, they both had dark green eyes but were one had short dark hair, the other had shaggier blonde hair. She wondered of their parentage as they both had pointed and angular features, something that was often considered to be features of aristocracy.
"And what are your names?"
Again, they shared a glance, likely having never been asked such a question by a royal or noble.
"I am Emerick," the blonde spoke.
"I am Michel," the other said.
"Well, Emerick, Michel, I am certain you have already been told who I am, but I shall introduce myself, I am Hermione. I don't care for being addressed so formally, so if you would prefer it, you may call me by my given name. I know your presence in the city will cause suspicion but I would like to keep my identity a secret for as long as possible, so please, try not to address me so when in crowded areas," she said, their eyes widening in further surprise. "This is Akela," she gestured to the large wolf at her side and gave him a pet on the head when he nudged at her hand.
When she brought note to the wild animal, she saw their forms stiffen as their eyes darted to him nervously, curiously, suspiciously. Akela simply gave them a look, Hermione taking it to mean he most definitely didn't approve of her having guards as he took it as an insult that the King didn't think he was capable of protecting her just fine by himself. She barely held in her snort of amusement; it was best not to scare the guards any more than she already had with such unladylike behaviour.
"Like you, he will be with me to protect me from harm. If you leave him be, he won't bother you. And this is Ginevra," she introduced, gesturing behind her with a tip of her head, hearing the young girl let out a squeak and she sighed in annoyance. "She is my handmaiden for the time being, that may very well change if she does not prove herself capable of handling me when I am at my worst," she said, sending the young girl a pointed look over her shoulder. "Have you been informed why it is I need a guard?"
"We have only been instructed to be with you whenever you leave the castle grounds, Your Highness," Michel answered.
"I am a trained physician and as of this morning, I shall be opening a medical practice in the lower part of the city to offer free treatment and care for those who require it but are unable to afford it."
Again, they shared a surprised glance. She wasn't certain if it were due to her being a Princess or if it were due to her being a woman.
"You will quickly come to understand that I am not like other Princesses and noblewoman you may have seen or met. I truly care for others more than I do for myself and I have made it my life's goal to help as many as I am able to. I have done all I can for those in my previous village and have now come to Camelot to do the same. As I wish for the people to feel unthreatened by your presence, I ask that you leave your spears behind."
"Your Highness..."
"You may carry your swords," she interrupted Michel. "Between Akela and yourself, I'm certain you can manage a protection detail. As for your helmets, I am aware it is rather warm this morning and if you would prefer to not wear them, I have no issues. Again, the people may feel less threatened if they are able to see your faces. Now that we've gotten the introductions over with, I've a lot to do this day so we best be leaving."
Hermione strode forward with Akela following at her side, Ginevra behind her and the guards positioned slightly behind her to give her enough room to not feel uncomfortable, but they were close enough to protect her if needs be. The thought alone had Hermione rolling her eyes; she was quite capable of defending herself so long as she wasn't outnumbered.
They made their way to the market place, Hermione purchasing a larger basket than the one she had the previous day. She received far too many looks to count, gasps being heard when the people spotted the large wolf beside her and their eyes darting between her, Akela and the guards, and she was given a wide berth as she passed. She headed straight for the bread vendor and purchased a few loaves, placing them inside her basket but before she left, a thoughtful look crossed her face.
"What is your name?" Hermione asked the older man, his dark eyes darting between her, Akela and the guards.
"Bartelot," he answered, his voice deeper than she'd expected.
"Bartelot, how many loaves of bread are you able to bake in a single day?"
He eyed her curiously. "How many do you require?"
A smile pulled at Hermione's mouth. "Good answer. How many loaves of unsold bread do you find yourself left with at the end of the day?"
"How many do you require?" He repeated.
Hermione's smile widened. "I think you and I are going to get on very well. Would you please pack up everything that you find you have been unable to sell?"
"And if that amount equals half of this day's product?"
"I assure you, I am able to afford such a price," she said.
His eyes moved back to the guards, staring at the golden dragon, the symbol of the Pendragons and he put the pieces together, understanding that if she had royal guards, she was important. She was grateful he didn't comment on it or ask for her name.
"I shall do as you ask."
"Excellent," she beamed. "There will be someone by later in the day to collect the loaves though it may not be myself. Have a lovely day, Bartelot and it was a pleasure doing business with you."
She turned and walked away, ignoring the stares of the vendors and the shoppers as her eyes darted about the other products for sale.
"Your Highness," Michel stepped up beside her and she sent him a narrowed gaze at his addressing but he'd said it quietly enough no one had heard so she didn't comment.
"Yes, Michel?" She questioned.
"If you do not mind my asking, what do you intend to do with the bread?"
"Give it to the hungry and poor."
"You intend to purchase them yourself and give them away for free?" He asked, his eyes widening.
Hermione couldn't understand why so many were always shocked that someone was kind enough to help those that needed.
"Yes, what good is having wealth if I don't use it to help those in need?" She replied, walking away and over to a cheese vendor, leaving behind his shocked expression.
After purchasing some cheese, of which Hermione had to pay for only because Akela's large form had 'accidentally' nudged the table and eaten the cheese that had fallen to the ground, she had a quick chat about purchasing the remainder of the leftover produce at the end of the day and then she continued on her way around the market place, until she reached a vendor that sold clothing items.
It was clear to Hermione that the quality wasn't up to the standards of Hilda and Marcella, but the older woman had done the best with what resources she had available to her. Hermione's eyes darted over the available items, noticing that the number of women's clothing far outweighed that for men's but she believed there was just enough for what she needed.
After purchasing breeches, tunics, shirts and boots in different sizes -of which she knew wouldn't fit and she'd had to alter them magically later- she purchased some apples and a few pies, again, making a deal with the vendor, before she came to the end of the market and headed in the direction of the city centre.
When she reached the beginning of the street that housed the awful Thorley Harte, she realised that she couldn't hear Ginevra's mumbling or the sound of the guard's boots on the pathway and she came to a stop, looking over her shoulder and blinking in surprise when she saw that she was alone, it was just her and Akela.
Frowning in confusion, she cast her mind back to the market place and wondered where she may have lost them and then she remembered, a fight had broken out between a farmer and a buyer accusing him of selling a diseased goat and it had drawn a crowd, everyone seeming to forget about her and her wolf. It was most likely she'd lost the guards and Ginevra during the incident.
She looked down the street and then behind her, her teeth sinking into her lip as she made a decision. She knew that if Arthur ever found out, he'd be furious that she'd walked the city without the guards escorting her, but she didn't have time to waste and there was no point in turning around and searching for them, not when she was already where she needed to be. She was sure they'd find her soon enough and she had Akela by her side; he would protect her if needs be, the only thing that could distract him were rabbits and she was certain they wouldn't see such an animal in a city centre with plenty of foot traffic, so she was safe.
Taking a breath, she adjusted her posture and raised her chin high, swapping the heavy basket from being carried on one arm to the other and she strode forward, spying that Akela's posture seemed to change, too, becoming cautious and ready to pounce should he need to. She marvelled at the bond they shared, at how he seemed to be able to pick up on her emotions and behaviour and change his own to mimic hers.
As expected, she received strange, frightened looks from those in the streets; women gasping or letting out a cry of surprise, men giving her a wide berth and children being shoved behind their parents. Hermione was honestly getting tired of the sight.
She approached Thorley's home and set the basket down on the ground off to the side before wrapping her knuckles against the door and taking a step back, allowing her room to move should he decide to kill her on sight.
The door opened and Hermione's eyes darkened at the sight of the young woman from the day before, her split lip and black eye looking no better but now she was sporting a cut to her cheek and what looked to be a scold on her left hand.
"Hello, I'm not sure if you remember, but I was here yesterday afternoon."
The young woman nodded, her eyes darting over her shoulder before she leaned forward and whispered, "You are the one that broke Master's nose."
Hermione's lip twitched, she couldn't stop it. "I am, yes,"
"I was punished,"
Hermione's face softened. "I am sorry, he grabbed me and refused to let go and I didn't care for the way he was looking at my friend, I was only trying to protect her. But after today, I promise you will be safe from him. Will you please alert him to my presence and then return? For your safety, I ask that you stay behind me." She eyed her carefully before they widened when she noticed Akela stood beside her. "He won't hurt you, I promise. Now, please fetch Thorley."
The young woman held her gaze on Akela before she closed the door and a few moments later, it reopened and she all but ran out of the stone building, cowering at the side of the building to the left.
"Akela, hide on the right, only attack if he puts his hands on me," she instructed.
It was clear her wolf wasn't pleased with her words but he listened, moving to the right until he could only be seen if Thorley were to step out of the door.
The moment Thorley came into view, fury crossed his face as his skin reddened, his teeth bared in a snarl and Hermione knew instantly he hadn't sought medical attention for his nose. He stormed forward with his hands reaching out as if he were going to strangle her and she took a step backwards, putting more space between them.
"Hello, Thorley, it's a lovely morning, is it not?" She greeted politely. "I say, what happened to your nose? You look as though you lost a fight with a wall, let me guess, you'd drank too much ale and fell. Oh my, you really must be more careful," she chided.
She took a second step back when his hands reached out once more and his face was no longer red, but looked to be turning purple. Had she ever seen Ron such a colour? She didn't think so.
"Well, I am sure you're wondering whilst I am here, so I won't keep you waiting any longer. My purpose is simple; to release any servants that may be under your care. They no longer belong to you. And as for the property, I am no longer interested in purchasing it as I've found a more suitable location and building that better fits my purpose. If only you weren't such a horrid little man you'd be able to afford the clothing you currently sport. You are aware that dressing like a noble does not make you one, yes?"
"You whore," he snarled, lunging forward.
Just as his hands made to close around her throat, a vicious snarl sounded and a flash of dark-silver was all that Hermione could see before cries and gasps surrounded from around her, Thorley let out an agonised cry and Akela was stood over Thorley, as he was sprawled on the ground with Akela's sharp teeth firmly sunk into his forearm, growls sounding from him.
"Good boy, Akela," Hermione praised softly, stepping up beside the wolf and looking down at Thorley's terrified, agonised expression as she gently ran her hand through Akela's soft fur. She wasn't entirely certain who he was more afraid of, her or the wolf.
She could feel her magic swarming through her body in anger, she could feel her hair seeming to frizz up as it was dying to be released, she could hear her heart pounding in her own ears and if she were to look in a mirror, she would see that her eyes were dark, her features no longer soft and kind, her smile no longer friendly. Rather, she looked cold and vindictive.
This wasn't the Hermione that taught children to read, that cared for others without expecting anything in return, that was kinder than any one person ought to be.
This was the Hermione that had cursed Marietta Edgecombe, that had broken Draco Malfoy's nose, that had led Umbridge into a trap that led to her being carried away by a heard of centaurs. This was the darker side that she didn't often show.
"Please, keep fighting," she said, her voice far too soft for her cold eyes and vindictive smile and it made it all the more frightening. "He loves is when his prey presents a challenge. However, if you should wish to prevent further injury, I suggest you remain still, otherwise, you risk tearing the muscles and him breaking through the bone. Actually, at the moment he is preventing blood loss but the moment he releases you I suspect you will feel lightheaded and nauseous. But, he will only release you when I instruct him to do so."
"Then do it, you puterelle," he managed to snarl through the pain.
Hermione tipped her head to the side. "That hurts my feelings, Thorley," she said quietly. "Unfortunately for you, my wolf is very intelligent and is able to understand anything that is being said to him or anything he may overhear and he is quite protective of me. As such, I cannot imagine him being pleased with you right now."
As if to prove her words, Thorley let out a cry when Akela seemed to tighten his grip on his forearm and he snarled viciously.
"See?" She asked, running her hand over Akela's back before pulling back and clasping her hands before her body delicately as she stared down at him. "Now that I have your attention, let's begin. Any servants that are in your home or under your servitude are to be released. No harm is to come to them in the process and once they leave, should you wish harm upon them I shall return with my lovely wolf and have a little talk over some tea. Should you attempt to harm either myself or my wolf, I must inform you that you most certainly will regret it. Should you acquire other servants once I have left, I will again return, free them of your horrid ways and we shall have another talk until you are able to comprehend what it is I am telling you. Agreed?" She asked, but he let out a snarl and made as if to stand and lunge at her, only Akela's weight and his hold on his arm kept him from doing so. "I shall not call him off until I receive the answer I wish to hear. Are we in agreement?"
"Yes," he spat.
"Excellent," she smiled, taking a step away from him. "Akela, release him," she instructed but the wolf didn't seem to want to as he let out a disagreeing growl. "Akela," she called a little firmer and slowly he unlocked his jaw from around Thorley's arm and backed up away from him until he stood beside her.
Thorley pushed himself into a sitting position and cradled his arm against his chest, blood making its presence known as it ran down his hand and soaked through his shirt.
"Oh my, that looks nasty; you should get that seen to as soon as possible," she said with a frown of concern before looking down to her wolf, seeing the blood that stained his mouth. "Well done," she praised. "I shall buy you as much cheese as you can eat," she promised, scratching him behind the ears before turning her eyes back to Thorley as he glared daggers at her.
Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath, reigning in her magic, forcing herself to list the twelve uses of dragon's blood, forcing herself to remember a happier time in her life and then she breathed out slowly, releasing her anger and locking away that side of her. When her eyes fluttered open, the darkness was gone, her features were kind and soft and her smile was easy and friendly.
"How many servants do you own, Thorley?"
"One," he spat.
Hermione's eyes darted to the young woman only she was no longer cowering, rather than being frightened by what she'd witnessed, she seemed surprised. There was a spark in eyes that Hermione knew well. She was pleased he'd been terrified, injured. That someone had stood up to him. She was pleased that he'd gotten a taste of his own medicine.
"Then she is now free. It was a pleasure doing business with you and I quite enjoyed our discussion," she smiled.
She reached for her basket, picked it up, settled it on her arm and then smoothed out her dress.
"Goodbye, Thorley," she spoke, before turning and her heel and walking down the street, ignoring the horrified, curious, suspicious glances and whispers that followed her.
It wasn't until she heard horrified gasps and cries, louder than previously that she was alerted to something being wrong. It wasn't until she heard a shout of "Doxy," and a vicious snarl from her wolf, that she knew to turn around. And it wasn't until she heard the sound of Akela throwing his weight into something and it crashed against the ground, metal clashing against the floor and a familiar voice, that she turned around.
"Do not move!"
