Because my first thought, every single time a story uses the You Already Changed the Past version of time-travel, is "but what if no time-travel, though?" I could pull... many threads about this. So have a look at how at least one event in Camelot may have gone. A few headcanons are in play here, but the biggest two are that 1) the Wizards kids at worst accelerated things rather than actually altered the course of history, and 2) Moppet!Douxie isn't as dumb as he seems – it's deliberate obfuscation to make himself seem like less of a threat and thus less of a target. He caught on with the time-travel paradox pretty quick, after all.
"Ugh," Douxie moaned as he finally made it back to his room. "I hate milking the slorr."
Archie hopped on one of the barrels still left from when this had been a storage room, getting closer to eye level to give him an unimpressed look. "Much as I dislike agreeing with Merlin when he criticizes you..."
Douxie waved his slorr-stained hands in Archie's face before his familiar could finish, making the dragon-turned-cat gag from the smell. But it was just for the interruption, and Douxie grabbed a rag to start wiping off his hands. "I know, Arch. 'Your cutting corners has only cost me time,'" he muttered, doing a poor impression of his master's lecturing tone. But he'd never get better at levitation if he didn't practice! It wasn't like he had sent the ores into the slorr juice on purpose...
"Alright," Archie said, ears pressed back. "I won't add to your badgering." He sat up primly, back turned to Douxie, and carefully put his glasses aside before starting to groom himself.
"Thanks for that," Douxie sighed, exhaustion overriding his irritation. He tossed the rag, now covered in blue stains, into a bucket. Then he carefully dipped a fresh cloth it into the small wash basin, making sure to keep his fingers out of the clean water, and scrubbed the last of the slorr juice from his hands and arms. At least he hadn't gotten any in his hair this time – it took days for the color to fade if the stains got a chance to set. And while he could scour his clothes with a spell, he wasn't keen to use magic on his own body, especially given his earlier clumsiness.
(It was a shame slorr juice had such an acrid smell. It was actually a really nice color...)
Giving into his fatigue, he practically fell onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow. A moment later, Archie tsked and jumped after him, pulling the blanket to Douxie's shoulders before curling up against his side. Douxie shifted to get one arm free, reaching to pet down Archie's back and scratch behind his ears, gratified when Archie started purring in response.
He wasn't sure if it was right then, or if he actually drifted off for a while, but a knock at his door startled him back awake. He lifted his head and blinked at the door in confusion.
Archie glared at the door accusingly. "Who'd be looking for us at this dreadful hour?" he grumbled.
Douxie started climbing out of bed when the knock came again, ignoring when Archie extended his claws to keep him in place – it wasn't meant to actually hold him, just enough for his familiar to make his displeasure clear. "Guess I'd better find out." He yawned as he walked over, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he opened the door.
Morgana stood outside his room, hand raised to knock a third time.
Douxie abruptly straightened. "Lady Morgana!" He resisted the urge to bolt back inside and make himself presentable – Morgana might be royalty, but she had seen him in plenty worse states than merely sleep-rumbled. He looked up and down the hallway instead, wondering where the guards Arthur insisted accompany her everywhere had gone. As far as he knew, her own chambers and Merlin's workshop were the only places that they didn't follow her.
"I'm sorry to wake you," Morgana said quietly, sympathy in her voice. "But there is something urgent we must discuss." She paused, waiting, as Douxie stared at her blankly. "May I come in?" she asked at last.
Douxie gulped, checking the hall again. The king's sister paying him a midnight visit wasn't in any way normal. "Is that, um..." appropriate, he'd meant to say, but his voice cracked on the word and he changed tracks. Obviously nothing about this was appropriate, not if Morgana had ducked her escorts. "Ah– I mean, of course!" He stood aside, opening the door wide and sweeping his arm out, covering his nerves with theatrics the way he'd learned to on the streets.
Morgana shut the door herself when she entered, slipping it from his startled hand. Then she paused, looking around the room with a small frown, and Douxie realized he only had the one chair – currently occupied by a stack of books.
"Oh, my apologies," he said, feeling the tips of his ears heat. It wasn't like he got a lot of visitors, after all – certainly not anyone of Morgana's station. He scooped up the books, dumping them next to another pile on the small table that functioned as his desk, then brushed off the seat to make sure it was clear. He gestured for Morgana to take the chair as he stepped closer to the bed, where Archie was still curled up, watching them with half-lidded yellow eyes. "Please, sit."
Morgana sat gracefully, back straight as she folded her hands in her lap, the perfect image of the noble she truly was, despite her surroundings. Douxie was considerably more awkward, almost missing the bed entirely and hands gripping the frame when he did sit. For a few moments neither of them spoke, and Douxie started to sweat, wondering if this was one of those courtly manners things he still hadn't gotten the hang of. He'd gotten very good at standing in the back and bowing, and even before Camelot, he'd been able to spin a fair bit of flattery when needed, but that was about the extent of his abilities.
He'd just about gotten up the nerve to ask why she'd come when Morgana finally spoke. "I need your help." Her hands wrapped tighter around each other as she grimaced, looking out his window. "Have you heard that Gunmar has been sighted nearby?"
Douxie nodded, realizing too late that Morgana wouldn't see it.
"I fear my brother will do something rash," Morgana said, apparently taking his silence as answer enough. Bitterness colored her voice. "Try to send a message, as if it will do anything but goad Gunmar into further attacks." She turned her face back to Douxie, regal as a marble statue. "We must free the creatures Arthur holds in the dungeon before he sacrifices them in a meaningless show of strength."
Douxie's eyes went wide, and he did his best not to sputter. "Free the – but that's – how would you even –" His best, it turned out, wasn't very good.
Archie brushed up against his arm before sliding fluidly into his lap. Douxie's fingers automatically buried into the soft fur, feeling the steady vibration of a low purr. Nerves a little soothed, his voice still cracked as he managed to ask, "Why me?"
Morgana looked down at Archie, expression softening. "Because out of everyone in this entire kingdom, you are the only one that understands, as I do, that magical creatures aren't evil simply because they are magic."
"You do realize this would be considered treason?" Archie asked mildly, one pale eyebrow raised.
"I know very well what I ask," Morgana said gravely. "I also know it is right." Her eyes were pleading as she looked at him again, the aloof Lady gone and only Morgana in her place, who felt so much so strongly that no mask could hide her for long. "Please, Douxie. You're the only one I can trust."
Douxie looked at Archie, absently stroking the cat's back. Archie stared back at him calmly, ready to follow him no matter what he chose. And he thought about Archie stuck in a cage, for no better reason than bad luck. Remembered a ring of swords pointing at his own neck, for minor tricks that hadn't even come close to hurting anyone.
He took a breath.
"What do you need me to do?"
Douxie was up bright and early the next day, partially out of habit and partially out of trouble sleeping. But as always, Merlin was in the workshop before him. He was bent over a splay of papers and books at the central table, scratching formulas into a wax tablet and muttering under his breath.
"Good morning, Master," Douxie said around his yawn as he entered, making no effort to hide it. The only response was a distracted grunt. Archie rubbed up against his legs in a parting gesture of affection, before hopping onto the stone wall on the side of the tower's connecting bridge to curl up in the sun and steal his usual extra hour of sleep.
He walked through what would be Merlin's eye-line if he had been looking up, heading up the steps to the cabinet where they stored ingredients, opposite the forge. Douxie used the rectangular work table to spread out the bundles of herbs he'd collected from the basement of Merlin's tower, where they'd been drying. They had to be prepared with special tools to make sure they stayed viable for spellwork, but the experiments with the amulet had made the workshop too volatile for the careful work. Given yesterday's failure, today was as good a day as any to catch up on stocking the cabinet.
"I brought up the herbs," Douxie chirped, just a little too brightly. It wasn't hard to waver when Merlin looked up at him then, catching the tone. "But, um, the mugwort seems to have... disappeared."
"And how did that happen?" Merlin asked, eyes narrowed in clear suspicion.
Merlin saw through any and every lie Douxie ever tried to tell. So the important thing was to not lie. "Well," he said, letting his voice crack and clearing his throat. "You remember yesterday, with the, um..." He looked away, fingers twitching before he grabbed his tunic's hem to hold them still. It wasn't hard to remember how uncomfortable he'd felt, stuck on the sidelines as Merlin and Morgana argued. "A-anyway, there was a gnome that got loose, and..."
Merlin sighed in exasperation, leaning forward on his elbow and pressing his fingertips to his forehead. "I suppose you'll have to go and get more, then, won't you?"
"Oh!" Douxie looked down at the spread piles, then back to Merlin, whose attention was once again on the papers. "Right now?"
Merlin made a dismissive noise, not looking up. "No, this afternoon. It needs to gather sunlight to be effective for our purposes. I've explained this before, Hisirdoux."
"Oh, right!" Douxie agreed easily. "What should I do until then? Because I was thinking –"
"Hisirdoux," Merlin interrupted, frustration edging into his voice. "If you wish to be of assistance, then start preparing the herbs we do have."
Douxie ducked his head, looking at the floor. "Yes, sir, of course." He peeked up through his bangs as Merlin sighed again. Taking that as a cue, he turned to the table and started shifting the bundles to one side. He held a hand over them, wiggling his fingers as he considered which one to start with. They had a decent supply of fennel...
No sooner had he finished untying the bunch of fennel than Morgana came into the workshop. She said nothing as she entered, just stood at Merlin's shoulder to look at his work.
"You still insist on that amulet?" she scoffed, crossing her arms.
"If I can blend a suitable alloy –" Merlin began, not looking at her.
"If you actually spoke to my brother instead of designing weapons for him," Morgana cut him off, "there would be no need for this amulet."
"The amulet isn't for Arthur," Merlin said absently, flipping a page in one of his books.
"So you've told me. Have you told Arthur that?" Morgana asked. "If you mean this trinket to be for the sake of magical creatures, perhaps you should make sure there will actually be some of us left by the time you finish it." She placed a hand on the table, leaning into Merlin's space and prompting him to look up. Her voice softened, now that he had finally given her his attention. "You've advised him since he was young, Merlin. He trusts your judgment. Surely you, of all people, can make him listen."
Merlin sighed, rubbing his eyelids before pinching the bridge of his nose. "When the amulet is finished –"
"It will be too late!" Morgana yelled, hand clenching to a fist as she pounded it against the table. Small objects lifted into the air in response to her anger, glowing with the sunset orange of her magic – including Merlin's tablet and the loose fennel, and Douxie took a half-step back on pure reflex. "Is the future you've fixated on so grand? Can you not see the path to peace vanishing beneath your feet?" Her voice lowered, but her anger was no less obvious. "Must Arthur turn Excalibur on you before you question him?"
"Morgana," Merlin said sharply, pushing his chair back as he stood, fixing Morgana with a look that might very well have made Douxie burst into tears if it had been aimed at him.
But Morgana was much stronger then he was. She stood tall and glared right back at Merlin. "If you truly believe Arthur won't claim something as powerful as you've promised this amulet will be, that he would give it away to the same creatures he has oppressed and slaughtered for years, then you're an even bigger fool than I thought."
Then she spun back to the door, stalking out. The door slammed shut on its own behind her, and in the same moment, all the objects floating in the room shot towards the walls. Douxie dropped to the floor, putting his hands over his head as the wax tablet slammed into the stone wall between the arched windows, wooden frame snapping from the impact.
He waited, listening, but when there were no other clatters or crashes, he warily cracked open one eye, looking around. The workshop wasn't in too bad a state, actually, though it might only seem that way because the mess was along the walls instead of all over. It was a good thing the forge hadn't been lit; he could see a few loose ores had ended up underneath the crucible.
"D-don't worry, Master," Douxie said as he stood, shaking his head and brushing a hand through his bangs to make sure his hair was clear of debris. "I'll get this cleaned up right away, just – oh, fuzzbuckets," he moaned, looking at fennel scattered across the floor. He'd never find all the seeds.
Merlin waved a hand with a grimace, and green light passed over the room. The displaced objects lit up and lifted into the air again, this time floating gently back to their proper spots. "Add the fennel to your list, Hisirdoux," Merlin said, sounding tired. "At least we're in no danger of running out for now."
"That, um, that gets picked at noon, right?" he asked, watching as the pieces of the wax tablet rotated in the air, splinters of wood orbiting it in the opposite direction.
"Yes." Merlin looked at Douxie, then the bundles of herbs beside him. "You may as well get a fresh batch of everything else. Make a day of it." His eyes went mournfully to his books. "I could use the quiet."
"Y-yes, sir," Douxie said, dipping into a quick bow. He folded his hands together to keep from fidgeting as he looked around the workshop again, but his master's magic was steadily putting things to rights. He wasn't needed for now. He started edging to the door, waiting to be called back.
"Go on, then," Merlin said instead, waving him off. "Take that familiar of yours and be back before sunset."
"I will!" Douxie agreed, turning to walk backwards through the door, still expecting Merlin to change his mind. When he didn't, Douxie quickly scooped up Archie, ignoring his familiar's protests as he carried the currently-a-cat through the main keep.
"Well," Archie said, when they were well away from the workshop, "that certainly went better than expected." He climbed up onto Douxie's shoulder, keeping an eye out as they made their way through the castle.
"Let's hope the next part goes well, too," Douxie agreed nervously.
Being Merlin's apprentice put Douxie at an odd place in the castle's hierarchy: not a servant, exactly, but not anyone of rank or importance, either. It meant no one questioned him when he went to the kitchens for food or told the stable master he needed a horse, but he did have to pack the food and saddle the horse himself. A cheerful wave was all it took to get the castle gates open for him, Merlin's endless list of errands making him a familiar face. He smiled and thanked everyone anyway, because treating people kindly always made things go smoother, even with the general distrust of magic in Camelot. And then he was across the bridge, following the strip of morning sunlight between the cliffs and the woods.
Camelot was an impressive castle, but its position on the sea cliffs meant it didn't have space for more than small gardens. The farmland that actually supported the town was to the south, where the cliffs lowered and the woods receded, leaving open land that could be properly worked. The area was too large to be walled or effectively patrolled, but the small assortment of hedgewizards that Merlin had brought into the crown's service were able to craft and maintain minor protection charms that deterred most magical creatures, and gave plenty of warning if they were breached.
The identities of those hedgewizards were closely guarded, given Arthur's ban on magic. As far as most people knew, Merlin was the only one responsible for those charms – being sanctioned by the crown wasn't the same as being accepted by your neighbors, after all, and a royal seal was only so much protection against an angry mob. Even Douxie had to be careful outside the castle walls. But no one was going to throw rocks at Merlin Ambrosius.
Douxie wasn't heading all the way to the farms, though. About an hour before then was a lone cottage, close enough to the treeline to benefit from its shade. Surrounding the cottage was an herb garden that would have been the envy of any monastery, plants of every color and description broken into tidy groups. He dismounted and carefully led the horse through the winding paths, sternly warning it not to eat anything while Archie circled overhead. He tied the horse to a post beside the little well, making sure it could drink some water, then knocked on the cottage door. He crossed his fingers behind his back as the silence stretched, hoping, hoping, hoping...
The door finally opened, and Douxie sagged in relief when a young woman was revealed. "Zoe!" he said happily, only for her hand to shoot out and cover his mouth.
"Keep it down!" Zoe hissed. Bright blue eyes glanced over her shoulder, where the inside of the cottage was dark. She pushed him backwards and followed him outside, keeping her hand over his face until she shut the door behind her. "Madame Amabel's sleeping; she just got back in from spending the night with Bethany."
Douxie took the manhandling with good grace – it was definitely a step up from the knife she'd used when they first met. "She had the baby?" he asked, keeping his voice low but unable to stop the grin that split his face. That Madame Amabel was back in the cottage after the delivery was proof enough things had gone well – as the local apothecary and midwife, she was diligent in providing care emotionally as well as physically despite her age. "Oh, that's wonderful!"
Zoe rolled her eyes, but Douxie caught the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She was both fiercely protective and proud of the old hedgewitch that had taken her in, and for good reason. "You're not here for the local gossip, though." She crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one side, and arched an eyebrow at him. "And it's a little early for your usual batch. So what do you want, Lucky Boy?"
"It's Hisirdoux," Douxie said automatically. The nickname, once a sarcastic reference to his shell game, had become almost fond over the last two years, and his corrections steadily less insistent. Then he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I was sent for the usual batch, actually..."
Zoe's eyes narrowed. "But?"
This was another make or break moment. And as much as Douxie couldn't lie to Merlin, he knew lying to Zoe could backfire even worse. More to the point, he didn't want to lie to her. He just couldn't tell her the truth, either. "But I can't do it."
Zoe tilted her head, appraising him. "You're not that bad."
Douxie swallowed. "I have to do something else."
"Something the great and powerful Merlin doesn't know about," Zoe guessed. Douxie didn't say anything, but his curled shoulders were answer enough. "Well." She clicked her tongue, considering.
A long, long moment passed.
"So how are you buying my silence?"
Douxie beamed at her, then turned to the sky and waved for Archie to come down. The dragon dove towards him, pulling up just in time to swoop overhead as he dropped a bag into Douxie's waiting arms.
Douxie held the bag out for Zoe to take. She did so carefully, keeping an eye on Archie as he spiraled lower to land on Douxie's shoulders, then reached inside. She pulled out a waxed cloth tied into a pouch and opened it, blinking in surprise.
One of the benefits of living in Camelot: easy access to sweetmeats. Especially for a "clumsy" apprentice with free reign of the castle, who had spent the last two years convincing everyone he was totally harmless by being so friendly and eager-to-please that no one gave it a second thought anymore when he knocked things over – and paid even less attention to his cat. Zoe's little pouch held about a dozen bite-sized lumps of marzipan, and there were sweet dried fruits as well as candied nuts still waiting in their own pouches. But those were literally to sweeten the deal. The real bribe was in the clay jar Zoe pulled out next, small enough to fit comfortably in her hand.
She frowned at the jar, shaking it gently. There was a faint shing of something small and hard shifting inside. She gave him a questioning look, and at his nod, broke the wax holding the lid in place. "Are those –?" she gasped, staring at the jar's contents.
"Dragon teeth," Archie confirmed.
"They're from Archie's last molt," Douxie explained. "His teeth are still too small to do much with, but you're always trying new things..." He'd been thinking of giving the teeth to Zoe, anyway – if anyone could find a good use for them, it was her. But he'd also spent more than a decade with a dragon as his only family, and a dragon never gave something away when they could barter instead.
Zoe shook the jar again, watching the teeth spin around inside with just a little bit of awe. "Okay. Deal." She sealed the jar again with a brief flash of magic, tucked it back into the bag, and held out her now free hand.
Douxie shook her hand. "I should be back in time to help you finish."
"I'll be done faster if you don't," Zoe said, which made Douxie wince, but he had to admit it was true. There were dozens of different rules about how to harvest which plants – time of day, phase of the moon, even things like cutting from east to west instead of north to south could affect the herbs' magical potency. And Zoe couldn't watch and correct him the whole time, either; she had her own duties to take care of. "I'll even mess up a little," she added with a wink. "Just to keep the old man clueless."
Douxie grinned. "You are so smart."
"A trickster after our own heart," Archie agreed. "But we should be off. We have a schedule to keep."
"Right!" He sketched a hasty bow to Zoe before scrambling to the horse. "Thank you!"
He rode back towards the castle, setting off quickly from the cottage. Not because he was in a rush – it was still mid-morning, and he could reach his destination by noon even at a moderate pace – but because he wanted to look like he was in a rush. He knew Zoe wouldn't sell him out, but subterfuge was the game of the day. There was too much at risk for anything else. It was only when he was well out of sight that he slowed and turned into the woods.
Arthur had ostensibly given the woods to magical creatures, claiming they were safe as long as they stayed away from Camelot. What that agreement didn't take into account was Arthur's plans to clear parts of the forest and expand Camelot's borders. There were miles of disputed woodland, and both Arthur and Gunmar alike were hard-pressed to find the numbers to secure it.
Even Arthur wasn't going to try cutting down the center of the forest, though. The magic that naturally accumulated there was too dense, the Wild Wood proper seemingly having a life of its own. Going in with intent to harm that part of the forest was asking for trouble no one in Camelot could afford, especially with Gunmar stalking the border.
Archie sat behind him on the horse, both of them keeping silent as they passed under the trees. The quiet was uncomfortable, broken only by the nonmagical variety of forest creatures. But maybe he actually was as lucky as Zoe made fun of him being, because they didn't run across any wandering patrols, man or monster. He couldn't help the relieved sigh as they finally reached the current marker for Camelot's border, within easy walking distance of the mists that surrounded the Wild Wood: Killahead Bridge.
"And now we wait," Archie huffed.
"Now we wait," Douxie agreed. He tied the horse to one of the trees, giving it a quick brushing off and a long enough line so it could graze. He wished he could have brought his lute, but that would have made it too obvious he was going to have time on his hands.
At his wistful sigh, Archie hopped from the horse's back to his shoulders, bumping his forehead against Douxie's temple. "Come on, then. We can discuss which runes to add to your charm bracelet."
Douxie perked up at that, and the two settled on the edges of the dry riverbed, scratching symbols into the soft dirt. They spent the time until noon debating the virtues of a Flux First over the Second, whether Douxie should bother with a Spark when he had Archie for a familiar, and, inevitably, ending up with far more choices than the scales from Archie's current molt would be able to hold.
Until, at last, the shadows under the bridge drew together and began to swirl around themselves, just a few feet away from him.
Douxie leaped to his feet, double-checking that the thickly-crowded trees provided enough shade as the portal steadily grew. "Here we go," he said. He looked back at Archie, now in his dragon form, sitting in a direct line-of-sight to the portal with his wings open. "Wish me luck!"
"Good luck," Archie murmured.
And, before Douxie could think about it too hard, he stepped into the shadows.
Until last night, Douxie hadn't known about the portals. No one had; Morgana had kept that particular development of her shadow magic to herself, fearing a day she'd need to do something like this. And the plan they'd come up with had been simple enough, for all it required the two of them fooling Merlin. She knew the hidden passages of the castle well enough to reach the dungeons without being seen, especially with her portals allowing her to secretly leave her chambers and therefore her guards behind. But Camelot's magical defenses made it difficult for her to leave the castle itself. Which was where Douxie came in: once he was out of the castle, he could be an emotional anchor for another portal, providing a strong enough link to the outside and establishing an escape route. Morgana could even keep it open, allowing him to come through and help her release the prisoners. To everyone else, creatures that couldn't survive sunlight would mysteriously vanish in the middle of the day.
The portal felt weird. Cold in a way that seemed to get inside him instead of just around him. And walking through it was a little like missing a stair – he had to catch himself on the other side, feeling like there should have been another step in the middle, like he shouldn't have actually made it through with just the first.
Douxie shivered, looking over to Morgana. "Is it supposed to be like that?" he asked her, rubbing his arms to warm them.
Morgana gave him a brief, tight smile. "You get used to it." Then she looked behind her, where an assortment of trolls, goblins, gnomes, and who knew what else were watching with interest from their cells and cages. "You see?" she said to them. "Perfectly safe, as I told you."
An enormous swamp troll put a finger to their chin, frowning. "Not trap?"
"We can't trust the fleshbags," a red-skinned troll said, shrinking back as he gripped his curved horns.
"What if we're walking right into a squad of knights?" a whispered hiss asked from another cell, hidden in shadows so that Douxie couldn't see them at all. "Or sunlight?"
"Going to a lot of trouble to get rid of us, then." A green troll with short blonde hair blew out a breath, leaning against the bars of her cell so her arms hung between them.
"Please," Morgana said, "I promise you –"
"Hey, scrawny," the same green troll said, interrupting her. She frowned thoughtfully as her bright purple eyes looked Douxie up and down.
Douxie jolted, not expecting anyone to pay attention to him over Morgana. "Y-yes?" he asked.
"I'll be your guinea pig." A clutch of goblins chuckled darkly from their cell, and the scattered gnomes hanging from the ceiling all began chittering. The green troll glared at them, muttering something that sounded Trollish and rude, then rolled her eyes. "It's not like dying in a damp cell is any better than dying in a spooky shadow gate, right?"
"Uh, well," Douxie said, looking around the dungeon as the other creatures started voicing their support for the green troll's sacrifice. "The idea is to not die at all, actually..."
"Sounds great," the troll said. "Get me outta here, then."
Douxie looked at Morgana for guidance, and at her nod, he went to the troll's cell. The keys for the dungeon were, unfortunately, above in the courtyard, hanging from the belt of whichever knight was currently on prison duty, and Douxie wasn't that good a pickpocket, even with magic. But that was part of the plan, too, really; Arthur couldn't keep magical creatures imprisoned if the prison wasn't functional, after all. A flick of his fingers drew his knife from the small pocket dimension attached to his bracelet, and a simple spell lined the blade with magic that made it sharp enough to slice through the lock.
He swung the cell door open, vanishing the knife and gesturing to the portal. "Right this way," he chirped, hopefully covering his nerves.
"Ha ha, no," the troll said flatly. She slung an arm around his shoulders, holding him against her side as she walked. "You're coming through with me."
"I really don't think that's necessary," Douxie protested weakly, stumbling as the troll effortlessly pulled him along. He aimed a pleading look at Morgana, but she just nodded at him again and steadied her staff, increasing the size of the portal.
"Hey, I've got way more to worry about than you," the troll pointed out. "For all I know, there could be a bunch of knights ready to skewer me. Cut me a little slack." And, laughing like her possible death was a grand joke, she dragged him with her through the portal.
There was that unsettling cold again, the missed-step lurch, and then Douxie and the troll were walking on soft dirt in the forest. The troll released Douxie, walking forward a few steps and turning slowly to take in her surroundings. Sharp teeth bit down on her bottom lip as she looked around, fighting a smile.
Then she stopped fighting it, letting out a loud whoop of laughter. "Take that, death!" she yelled at the sky, thrusting a fist upwards. "I elude you once a–!"
Douxie hadn't thought, just panicked. Before he knew it, his hands were over the troll's mouth, cutting her off. "Shhhh!" he whispered urgently. "There could still be patrols!"
The troll blinked down at him, purple eyes wide with surprise, and Douxie suddenly realized just what he'd done. And how close his hands were to her incredibly sharp teeth.
He flinched back, hiding his face behind his raised arms and screwing his eyes shut. "I'm sorry, I – I didn't mean to – oh, fuzzbuckets, please don't eat me..."
The troll burst out laughing, and Douxie hesitantly lowered his arms, cracking one eye open to peek out. "Please, skinny thing like you?" She snorted and clapped a hand against his back, not hard enough to hurt, but catching him off-guard enough to knock him forward a step. Her eyes were sparkling with amusement, her voice good-natured. "You'd barely make a decent toothpick."
"I... thank you?" Douxie said uncertainly. She was... joking? He was pretty sure?
"No one will be eating anyone," Archie said firmly, landing on Douxie's shoulders. He bared his teeth with a low growl and spread his wings wide, threat clear.
"Easy, furball," the troll said, still smirking. "I don't even like the taste of people. They're too stringy." Archie huffed, breathing just enough flame to make his point, but lowered his wings and relaxed from the protective stance.
The troll turned back to the portal, reaching a hand out to snag Douxie by the arm. "Come on, let's go let those pebble-brains know it's safe to come out."
"Wait, again?" Douxie whined as he was pulled behind her.
"Not like I can break those locks," she said flippantly. "They're anti-troll, remember? Gonna need that magic knife of yours." Then she yanked him forward fast enough to make him yelp, Archie tumbling from his shoulder.
Douxie grimaced as he stumbled through the portal again, tripping as he reached the other side. For a second all he saw was stone rushing up towards his face. Then a cool, firm hand tightened around his arm, stopping his fall before lifting him back to his feet. The green troll arched an eyebrow at him with half a smirk as his face flushed, but she didn't say anything, just held him up until he was steady, then let him go.
She pat him on the back, more gently than she had before, grin widening as she turned to the cells. "Bad news, everybody: I'm still alive." Douxie blinked in surprise as a chorus of groans came from the cells. "Good news: this thing goes right to the border. We're getting out of here." She pushed Douxie forward, giving him a wink as the groans turned into tentatively hopeful murmuring. "Do your thing, scrawny."
After that, getting everyone free was simple, just time-consuming. Between Douxie's knife and Morgana's staff, they were able to break open all the cells, working from one end of the dungeon to the other. The goblins skittered through the portal immediately, muttering among themselves, but the trolls were more hesitant, hemming and hawing before finally stepping though. The large swamp troll was particularly tricky, having to crawl out of their cell and forcing Morgana to widen the portal across almost the entire dungeon. Through it all, the green troll was the only one who lingered, prompting the others to move with either playful insults or physical insistence – the whispered voice from the shadows turned out to be a wiry brown creature, which the green troll had to actually carry out of their cell, literally throwing them through the portal like a ball. A pale blue troll with horns like a stag's antlers notably had to work themselves up three times to even try, stopping short each time, before finally asking to be pushed, eyes screwed shut and tense as a wire – a request the green troll was all too happy to fulfill. When it came to the gnomes' hanging cages, she stood below as Douxie carefully threw his knife, catching each cage as it fell so they wouldn't make noise.
"Thank you for your help," Morgana said, bowing her head to the green troll when it was just the three of them left, to which the troll merely shrugged. Then Morgana turned to Douxie and smiled gratefully, honest pride in her eyes as she put a hand on his shoulder. "I couldn't have done this without you."
Douxie ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Like you said: it's the right thing to do."
Morgana squeezed his shoulder, giving him a gentle push. "Hurry on, then. You've a long way back."
The green troll smirked at him as he joined her at the portal. "One more time," she said, holding her arm out to him. Douxie just sighed, resigned, and hooked his own arm around hers, letting her pull him along.
"How come you don't lose your balance?" Douxie complained, to which the troll just laughed.
Killahead Bridge was quiet as they stepped through, shadows growing deep as the sun dipped to afternoon. Tracks were left in the soft dirt of the former riverbed, the only trace of the magical creatures that had just made their grand escape. Archie was perched on the rocks to one side, guarding the poor horse, but he flew to Douxie the instant he saw him, shifting in midair to his cat form. Douxie caught his familiar one-armed, other still linked with the troll's, but had no problem holding the cat's lighter weight against his chest to bump his forehead against Archie's.
"There you are," Archie said, purring loudly. "Is that all of them?"
"Missed you, too, Arch," Douxie said. Behind him, the portal spun smaller and smaller, until it disappeared. "And, yes. We did it."
"Guess there are good fleshbags," the troll murmured thoughtfully, letting go of his arm. "For such a little guy, you've got some serious stuff, going against Arthur." She ruffled his hair, knocking his bun askew and drawing a squawk of protest from Douxie as he ducked away from her, covering his head.
But the troll's mischievous smirk dimmed quickly. She looked to the side, biting her lip, and Douxie was surprised to realize she looked nervous. "Listen, I don't like owing favors." She glanced at Killahead, then further into the woods. "You know where Tombro Village used to be?" When Douxie shook his head, she pointed southwest. "Head about two miles that way from here. Can't miss it. You ever need something, leave a message there for Callista."
The smirk brightened back to full force, and she winked. "Place is surrounded by traps, though, so make sure it's important. Even a toothpick like you would have a hard time slipping though."
"It's Hisirdoux," he corrected automatically, already recognizing the teasing tone, but he smiled back at her and held his hand out. "It was actually pretty nice to meet you, Callista."
She glanced at his hand, then his expectant face, then at his hand again. "What, is this some weird human thing?"
"What? No," Douxie said. "It's a – you do it when –" He sighed, lifting the hand to his face instead. "Nevermind."
Callista laughed, lightly bumping her fist against his shoulder. "Kidding. I just wanted to see your face." She tapped her fingers against her head, giving him a half-wave, half-salute. "See you around, Toothpick!" And then she set off running into the woods, leaving him and Archie behind.
"It's Hisirdoux!" Douxie repeated, and grinned when her laughter drifted back to them.
"That went well, didn't it?" Archie said, sounding pleased. "Especially with how out of practice we've gotten, stealing away Arthur's prisoners was rather refreshing."
"You know, it was!" Douxie said brightly. He lifted Archie to his shoulder, flicking the runes on his bracelet for a cleaning spell and using it to disguise the trolls' tracks, breaking up the soft dirt even further.
"Not that we should return to our life of crime," Archie added thoughtfully.
"No, of course not," Douxie agreed, heading for the horse. "One dungeon break is enough for me! And it's not like we'd need to..."
Douxie's good mood instantly sank. "Unless Merlin finds out," he moaned, dragging his hands down his face. "And he always finds out."
"We've done everything we can to prevent that," Archie said soothingly, rubbing his face against the side of Douxie's head. "And you're no shadow sorcerer. No one would have any reason to suspect you."
"Right. You're right, Arch." Douxie took a steadying breath, petting Archie for good measure. He'd just about convinced himself after getting the horse saddled, and was even feeling pretty confident when they left the woods without incident.
He took longer than he needed getting back to Madame Amabel's cottage, once again stretching out the timing to throw off any ideas of what he could have been doing. Zoe was still on her own in the garden when he arrived. She didn't ask him anything, just made him carry everything as she worked, giving him the same lecture on proper harvesting techniques she'd given him last time. She also made him tie off the bundles he was taking himself, pointing out they used different knots.
"And that's your extra mugwort," she said, adding the bunch to his pile. She ran a finger over the ragged cuts, frowning. "I just want to point out, messing up like this hurts my professional pride."
"I really do appreciate it," Douxie told her earnestly, carefully tying the bundles to the horse's saddle so they wouldn't get crushed in a bag. "And I promise not to make you do it again." He hesitated then, looking at Zoe before quickly looking away. "...You're not going to ask what I was doing?"
Zoe sighed. She stood on the horse's other side, fingers working through the mane to untangle it. "The less I know, the safer we both are. And you did give me a pretty hefty bribe," she said, not looking at him, either. "Besides, I know you wouldn't hurt people." She ran a hand down the horse's neck, giving it a gentle pat as she finished. "Just... be careful going around the old man's back, alright? Even your luck won't last forever."
"As long as it lasts through today," Douxie said fervently, drawing a startled laugh from her. Bundles secure, he took the horse's reins, ready to lead it out, and gave Zoe a proper bow this time before he left.
As ordered, he was back in Camelot before sunset. And once again, no one paid him any mind as he wandered through the castle, first to return the horse, then to store the herbs in their usual spot in the tower's basement to dry.
"Master, I'm back!" he called as he finally returned to the workshop, Archie trotting at his side. "And I remembered to get extra mugwort!"
Merlin gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment, once more bent over his books and papers. "But not extra fennel?"
Douxie's jaw dropped, and he covered his eyes with one hand as he groaned. "I'll remember next time," he promised.
"Hmm." Merlin still hadn't looked at him. The floor of the workshop was immaculately clean, and a glance to the far table revealed the bundles he'd brought up this morning had all been taken care of and stored.
Suddenly at a loss, Douxie just stood in the doorway. His hands fidgeted as he looked around for something to do – even the bookshelves seemed free of dust. "Um, Master Merlin?" he asked hesitantly. "Did you... need me to do anything else?"
"No," Merlin said after a moment, voice distracted. "That will be all for today, Hisirdoux."
"O-oh..." For some reason, not cleaning the workshop felt wrong. "Are you sure?"
Only now did Merlin look over at him, exasperated. "Yes, I am sure. I'd thought you'd appreciate an early night, given what you've been up to."
Douxie could swear he felt his soul shriveling. "U-up to?" he asked, voice cracking. His hands firmly grasped the edge of his tunic to keep from shaking.
Merlin scoffed, turning back to his research. "If you actually listened to that girl at the apothecary, you wouldn't have to re-do everything three times."
"What?" Douxie asked, blinking. Hidden from Merlin's view by the table, Archie jumped on one of Douxie's feet the way a human might have stomped on it. "Ow – oh! I mean – but she makes up these little songs when she's working and it's adorable, but she gets embarrassed if I interrupt her to ask anything and starts lecturing me instead –"
Merlin sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed a temple with his fingertips. "And you'll spend the rest of the day repeating those songs instead of remembering the lectures that would do you considerably more good. If you're going to be distracted anyway, do it elsewhere." He waved a hand in clear dismissal. "I expect you to be here first thing tomorrow, with your mind on your work."
"Of course!" Douxie chirped, bending down to pick up Archie. "I'll see you tomorrow, then, Master!" And he ran from the workshop, not stopping even to let Archie go until he was in his own room.
"It seems we've made a clean getaway," Archie mused, springing from Douxie's arms to fly to the bed. He walked a tight circle, still in his dragon form, kneading at the blanket before settling and tucking his paws beneath him and his wings against his sides.
Douxie leaned against the door, covering his face with his hands and sinking to the ground with a groan. "He's going to figure it out, Arch. It'd take one of Mordrax's miracles for him not to."
"Well, perhaps we can help that along." Archie tilted his head to the corner of the room, where Douxie's lute sat out of the way of wandering feet. "Go on. See if you can 'remember' any songs."
It was amazing how Archie always knew how to make him feel better. And safe from any brooms gone rogue, it was a matter of minutes for Douxie's nerves to settle as he tuned the strings and started to play. Soon enough he was genuinely having fun, dancing around his room as he sang – not well, but certainly with enthusiasm – spinning around stacks of books and hopping on top of his chair while Archie called out increasingly silly lyric suggestions any time Douxie fumbled.
Tomorrow morning, when it was discovered the dungeon was empty and only magic could have accomplished that feat, he wouldn't even be considered as a suspect. Morgana would chafe as more eyes were placed on her, despite the inability to prove her involvement. Tensions would rise, coming that much closer to their breaking point. But tonight he knew he'd done something right. Tonight he celebrated.