A/N: Wow! I made it to chapter two of this thing! I'm surprised. Sweet, I even got some reviews. In one of said reviews, Eirtae made a very good point about how Darwin would not be speaking the same language as everyone else, and hence, no one would understand her and vice versa. I thought about adding the language barrier to the story, but I knew if I did that I would have to find a way to solve it, or else there would be no story. I came to the conclusion though, that I would have to sacrifice the credibility of Darwin to do so, risking mary-sueism. For instance "Luckily she had learned to speak Latin/ Sarmatian/ an early version of English fluently over the summer" or "Coincidentally, she had mastered the Linguistics charm prior, knowing that it would eventually come in handy, which allowed her speech to be understood by everyone who heard her" just scream Mary - Sue. Besides, this is just for fun. Lol, historical accuracy be damned!
Chapter Two: I'm So Lonely I Could Cry.
Suddenly awaking in a strange forest which is part of strange land that you don't recognize whatsoever is one thing, but managing to completely alienate the first natives you meet of said land within a span of five minutes took real talent. You had to be really daft to do that.
Darwin was one of those unlucky people who barely ever thought before she spoke, rushed into things and had, unfortunately, just been dealt a disproportionately large amount of bad luck. As she sat alone in her little cell/compartment/ hole of death, she couldn't help but feel sorry for herself. She was beginning to feel very cramped sitting there, and wondered morbidly if she might develop a blood clot in her leg.
There was a dripping sound coming from somewhere. Of course there was, it just wouldn't be a proper dungeon without it. Sadly, the dripping water eventually became a way to keep time, and Darwin guesstimated that she had been in there for nearly ten hours. She felt very tired, but was afraid to go to sleep.
She wondered idly how long they were going to keep her in there and how long the other captives had already been there. She knew there was at least one other prisoner there besides the girl who had spoken earlier, because at times she heard whimpers coming from the darkness. She thought it might be a child, but prayed that she was wrong. Her stomach growled and she mentally growled back and told it to shut up.
She supposed she should've felt horribly indignant and angry that another human being had presumed such control and power over her, but it just wasn't in her nature. In her seventeen and half years, life had taken the time to teach a few very valuable lessons. Such as, it really is always best to just tell the truth as it eventually saves you a lot of trouble. It's always best to look on the bright side of life because no one likes a pessimist and an angst ridden teen is so cliche. Finally, always try to find the humour in the situation. Laughter is, after all, the same in every language and it's food for the soul. Laughter and a light heart can get you very far, although you wouldn't think it.
The time ticked slowly away, the dungeon's gloomy atmosphere never changing. At intervals, Darwin and the other captives were submitted to the rambling sermons of the monks. She thought going to mass every Sunday and having to listen to the Indian priest who couldn't speak English very well was bad, but this was just ridiculous. These men had clearly lost their minds a long time ago. They all had this crazed, deranged look to them, with their stringy hair and bony hands and sunken eyes.
They would pace back forth and just go on and on about how great the grace of God was and how they were going to be given salvation and how they would accompany them to receive said salvation and how it was the prisoners' lot in life to be sacrificed. They would've made great Jehovah's witnesses.
Just as one of the monks was reaching the pinnacle of his sermon, getting all riled up and excited, Darwin couldn't help but laugh. It started as a little giggle that she tried to stifle, but the laughter just bubbled up from her belly and exploded.
The monk stopped dead in the middle of what he was doing and just glared in her direction.
"You laugh at the teachings of the Lord?" He asked incredulously.
"No, I'm laughing at you." She barked out another laugh. "You're funny."
"Insolent child!" He screamed. "You shall receive no food rations for the next three days. Perhaps that will teach you to laugh at God." He turned on his heel and was followed out of the room by the other two monks.
"Good!" She yelled back. She felt very satisfied with herself. At least now they could be prisoners in peace instead of listening to anymore insane rambling.
"Do you realize what you've done?" She heard a voice say. It was the girl from before, the one who's cell was close to hers.
Darwin shrugged, only to realize that the girl wouldn't be able to see her do it.
"I don't care." She said flatly.
"Surely, you will starve." The girl said, and there was concern in her voice.
"Meh. I wouldn't want to eat anything they gave me anyway. Have you seen the dirt under his fingernails?" Darwin said simply.
There was no response for a moment and most likely the girl didn't know what to make of Darwin.
"Where do you come from?" Darwin heard the girl asked suddenly. Hmmm, this could be difficult. She thought she might tell the truth, but then figured she had had just about enough alienation for one day.
"I'm not from around here." She said after a moment. "Where are you from?" She asked, although she wasn't sure why, because she most definitely didn't know the place.
"I am a woad. I live north of here." The girl said. She sounded sad. Maybe she missed her family.
"Uh huh, I see, I see." Darwin replied, pretending like she knew what she was talking about. "How long have you been in here?"
"Nearly a month, I believe." The girl replied. She sounded so tired. It was obvious from her voice that she was young, but in that moment she sounded so very old.
Darwin gave a low whistle. That was impressive. She had stayed in this hell hole for that long without going crazy. The girl deserved a prize.
"What's your name?" Darwin asked brightly. The past few hours had been so dull and depressing and now she finally had something to occupy her time. Huzzah!
"Guinevere, and yours?" Guinevere asked from her cell. Darwin heard her move to the other end of her cell, coming closer to her.
"I'm Darwin." She said, and not for the last time in her life she rolled her eyes at her silly name and her dad's damned fascination with the theory of evolution.
"It is a strange name, but a nice one." Guinevere said from her cell. There was a pause. It was, in reality, quite an odd situation to find one's self in and any sort of conversation just seemed a little out of place.
"Is it true what they say?" Guinevere asked. She seemed genuinely curious.
"True what they say what?" Darwin asked, confused.
"That you are, in fact, a witch?"
"Oh, um, well....." Darwin trailed off. This had already gotten her into a lot of trouble and she didn't really want anymore of it.
"Do not be afraid. I will not condemn you like these tyrants do." There was just something so honest and strong about the way she spoke that Darwin couldn't lie to her.
"Yes." She said finally. "Yes, I am."
"Are you acquainted with Merlin?" Guinevere asked, now sounding very excited.
Darwin gave an aggravated little sigh. "Who is this Merlin guy?" She asked.
"He is a great Wizard. Those who live in the south fear him and believe he is evil, but he truly is not. I know him to be a man of great kindness." She replied.
"Riiiight." Darwin said, thinking for a moment. Another person of magic? Hmmmm. If anyone was likely to know what was going on, it was him. Maybe he knew how to get back to Hogwarts. "I'd like to meet him." She said finally.
"If we ever leave this place, I will bring you to him." Guinevere promised.
Darwin's main rule in life was to always try and find the humour in every situation, but after being in that place for nearly a week, she found it hard to even open her eyes, least of all laugh. It now seemed even more of a feat that Guinevere had been able to survive there for over a month. It just seemed impossible to her now. She experienced a cold like she had never known. It sunk right into her bones and stayed there. Her arms and legs felt week from lack of use, her head and stomach were pained from lack of food and she felt dirty. Disgustingly dirty. Her skin itched
and her hair was a matted mess.
When the monks weren't around, Darwin and Guinevere would sometimes talk, or sometimes Guinevere would call across to the other prisoner, a little boy named Lucan. But as the days passed, Darwin didn't feel like talking. A strange depression was setting in as she realized she might die in this place. She came to admire Guinevere for her strength. She knew she could not last a month in the place, and, to be honest, probably wouldn't last another week.
Time would slowly drag by, and she could feel herself getting weaker. She found she thought often of Hogwarts, and all her friends there. She wondered if they had any clue what had happened to her and if they were looking for her. She thought of her parents and wondered what they were doing and if they were missing her.
She had to admit, the whole premise of the situation did seem a bit medieval, but then again, the Wizarding world existed completely unbeknownst to the rest of the world, and perhaps this was a similar situation. She just prayed something would happen soon.
Just as hope seemed to be fading, something did happen. Her biological clock told her that it was sometime late in the morning and the grumbling in her stomach told her it was close to lunch time. The monks looked like they were just about to launch into another sermon when a loud banging came from the door. Someone was tying to break in! This could only be a good thing.
Darwin scuttled to the front of her cell and rammed her head against the bars to try and see what was going on. She could hear someone descending down the stairs, and light was flickering on the walls. The monk she hated the most hobbled over to where the light was coming from.
"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?" She heard him hiss. 'Oh shut up, you crotchety old wing bag', she thought.
Then there was a second voice, a strong male voice that spoke. She couldn't hear what he said, but it brought a smile to her face.'Where have you been all my life?' she thought. These people would help them, she could feel it. There was more said, but all she could make out was something about survivors.
She tried to yell, but she was speechless. Well, she thought, there really is a first time for everything. There was suddenly a great energy in the dungeon. It was waking her up, knocking life back into her senses. She felt a sudden rush of strength and banged her firsts on her cell bars.
To her dismay, her efforts only caused a small little ping sound.
'Ugh' she thought. 'I'm such a girl.'
By the sound of it, there was now a small herd of people in the sad little hole in the ground. There was a loud clanging noise which could only mean one thing. They were opening the cells! She banged furiously on her cell bars now, 'Me next, me next, me next!' her mind screamed.
Guinevere was strangely quiet in her cell and Darwin could only pray that she was alright. Her mind now had become consumed with her own survival though. Her throat was on fire now. From trying to yell and her harsh breathing it was now stiff and burning and brought tears to her eyes.
The dungeon slowly became more and more illuminated and the footsteps drew closer and closer.
"This one's dead." She heard someone say. 'But I'm not!' she wanted to scream.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she saw a pair of heavily armoured boots come into view. The owner of the feet which filled said boots bent down and his face swam into view. He had dark features and dark hair, but more importantly had a sword in his hands. She couldn't say anything, only smiled and prayed that she didn't pass out from the exertion. He gave the slightest smile back and then stepped back so that he could swing at the latch holding the cell bars.
The noise it made falling to the ground was one of the nicest she had ever heard. She went to scramble out of the cell so fast that she forgot about the chains around her wrists. Her wrists hurt something fierce after that. All she could do was lay in a heap on the ground, her wrists angled toward the cell.
"Do not move." She heard the man say. She saw him raise his sword, preparing to cut the chains. 'Oh please be careful', she prayed. In all honesty though, she would have rather lost a hand or two then spend another minute in that dreadful place.
His sword swung down with expert precision and her wrists were free.
"Lancelot, bring her outside." The man said. Another man who had been standing close by bent down next to her and flashed her a small smile. Survey says, doable. Even in the darkness of the dungeon she could tell was a very handsome man. She gladly allowed him to pick her up, but before he began to walk, she frantically pointed in the direction of Guinevere's cell.
"Don't forget," She squeaked out. "Guinevere."
Satisfied with herself, she slumped against his chest and watched gladly as the dungeon floated by. If she was sure of anything in her life, it was that she would never, ever see this place again.
Lancelot carried her outside into the bright sun. It was like leaving a movie theater times ten. She could barely keep her eyes open, it hurt so bad. He set her gently down on the ground and for a moment, she felt like she was drunk. Her head swam and her limbs tingled. He brought her some water which she drank very quickly.
"Thank you." She said from her place on the ground.
"You are welcome, my lady." He said. 'Oh, did you hear that? He thinks I'm a lady!' her mind said and she giggled.
She continued to lay on the ground for a few more moments, just enjoying the fresh air and sunlight. She kept her eyes closed and breathed deep. This was nice. Someone was calling for water, and she cracked her eyes open to see that Guinevere too was being taken care of. She watched the scene unfold for a moment and felt a deep happiness that things were starting to go right.
But then that stupid monk started talking. Uh oh, spoke too soon. He was gesturing towards Guinevere and Lucan, most likely saying something along the lines of them being heathens. Then he took a few steps toward her, stopped, and glared down at her.
"And this one's a witch." He nearly growled.
Darwin scrambled to a sitting position as she heard Lancelot give a little snicker at her side. Well, at least someone wasn't a crazy prejudiced bastard around here.
"And this," The monk said, drawing her wand from his robes. "Is her instrument of evil."
This provoked a few more laughs from the other people gathered there and Darwin felt relieved. Perhaps she had just been very unlucky with her encounter with the monks.
"You old fool."Lancelot laughed. "It's nothing but a stick of wood." At this he plucked the wand from the monk's hand and twirled it around with his fingers. "See?" He gave another patronizing laugh and let the wand fall to the ground.
Darwin wanted to smack him, but realized the advantages of not doing so. A small argument between the men who had rescued them and the monks ensued and she took the opportunity to reclaim her wand while no one was looking. As she looked around, she noticed that a few of the villagers were staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths. They seemed to be keeping a great deal of distance between themselves and her and every time she moved they would jump. For a just a moment, she thought that she understood a fraction of what it was like to be a Jew in Nazi Germany, or an African American during times of slavery. Or, more fittingly, someone accused of witchcraft during the Salem witch hunts. In that moment, she felt hated and despised. They loathed her and she was irrevocably different from them. They glared at her like she was sub-human and hide their children behind them, as if they feared she might eat them. Maybe Lancelot didn't believe in accusations of witchcraft, but they sure did. She looked away and stared at the ground, her cheeks flushing. She had never felt so unwelcome in her life.
It seemed as though the monks had greatly annoyed the leader of the group, because the man who had freed her from her cell was now shouting for the monks to be walled back up. Good riddance to bad rubbish, they deserved it.
As that was being done, the man spoke with Guinevere, no doubt asking about her ordeal. After a few moments of that, he made his way over to her. Not wanting to be rude, she scrambled to her feet. Her head felt a little woozy, but this man just commanded respect. As she stood, she felt her gold necklace, with a small gold cross attached, topple out from under her blouse.
"No need to exert yourself on my behalf." He said kindly, but for a moment, she swore she saw just a hint of the prejudice in his eyes that was so abundant in the villagers. He hid it well though.
"It's alright." She said. "I'm fine." It actually felt really good to stand up and stretch her legs. Plus, her arse was starting to get really sore from sitting for so long.
He seemed to be considering her. There was something unreadable in his eyes. He didn't trust her, that was for sure. His eyes moved to the cross around her neck.
"I see you wear the cross of our Lord. You are a Christian?" He asked, and as he did so, something softened in his eyes.
Coming from an Irish- Italian family, she never really had a chance. She was a Roman Catholic and had been since before she was born.
"Yes," She replied, nodding her head
He continued to regard her for another moment. His eyes moving from her face to her the cross around her neck. She felt slightly uncomfortable. She felt as though she were being tested. She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. She knew she needed this man's help to get back home.
"What is your name?" He asked finally.
"Darwin Moore." She replied, and as expected, both he and Lancelot quirked an eyebrow. She wanted to roll her eyes and ask they of they had ever heard of Charles Darwin, but she stopped herself. "And who are you?" She asked.
"I am Arthur Castus." There was so much power and strength in his voice, that Darwin suddenly felt very small standing in front of him.
"And who are these people?" She asked, motioning the other armoured men there.
"These are the famed Sarmatian knights." He said this as if it were very obvious.
"I see." She said slowly, and a strange tally was beginning in her mind. Arthur called over another one of the knights, a blonde, shaggy-haired one, and said something to him. He motioned in Darwin's direction, but she barely noticed.
........Hmmmm, Arthur, why does that sound familiar?.......
Her mind began to work. The people of the village were loading wagons and packing up their things. Apparently, they were leaving. The blonde knight came over to her leading a horse behind him. He regarded her with a funny look, before introducing himself as Gawain. She mumbled her name back, but she was preoccupied.
........Lancelot. Guinevere. Where have I heard those names?......
Gawain said something about her riding with him. She shrugged and nodded. She had never ridden a horse before. This would surely be interesting. He more or less picked her up and plopped her on the horse without saying a word. The horse shifted and stamped it's hooves. Out of reflex, she grabbed onto the saddle. She looked up at the sky, and blinked. Something wasn't quite right here.
........Merlin? Wasn't there a wizard named Merlin on the Famous Wizards Cards that came in the chocolate frogs?...........
Gawain walked a few steps toward one of the other knight's who was already mounted on his horse. They began to speak, but Darwin couldn't hear what they were saying. Everything had faded to background noise as her mind slowly worked toward the awful conclusion. She slid her hand into her pocket and ran her fingers along her wand. She had a feeling she would need it soon. She glanced over at Arthur. She stared at him for a moment before finally admitting that he was dressed like a Roman soldier.
..........Okay, so we have a Roman soldier who is named Arthur and is the leader of a group of knights. One of said knights is named Lancelot, okay......There's a girl named Guinevere who knows a Wizard named Merlin, hmmm......Not to mention, there's a bunch of people walking around in rags, pulling wooden wagons, living on a farm, with a strong prejudice toward witchcraft......Oh, and don't forget the crazy monks..........
"Oh my God." She gasped as it hit her like a pile of bricks. She wasn't near Hogwarts. Not anywhere close. She wasn't even in the right century. This was King Arthur! And the Knights of the Roundtable! Oh shit!
How could this happen? Of all the ridiculous, unfair, stupid things to happen. This?! Honestly, who goes back in time?
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no." She whimpered. Her breathing quickened and she grasped the saddle tighter. She suddenly felt dizzy and feared she might throw up. She was so far from home it was unbelievable.
Suddenly Gawain was at her side. He looked up at her.
"Something the matter, lady?" He asked.
"You're a knight of the roundtable." She stated.
"Yes." He looked quite confused.
"NO!" She whined. Anything but this! What was she going to do now? She felt panic rising in her, but this was unlike the panic she felt when she awoke in the woods. Then, she had merely been lost, looking for her way back to the castle. Now, she was lost in time, with no clue of how to get back. "This can't be happening! Not to me!"
She could feel tears prick at her eyes. She had drawn the attention of a few of the other knights there, and they began to come nearer, swords drawn. The horse, sensing their mood, shifted again, and moved slightly.
They all regarded her with a strange look as they came closer. They did not trust her. They were going to hurt her. Her mind became a cacophony of sounds and blurs of colour and she suddenly wanted to run. Get as far away from them as possible. Back to the woods. That was safe. There she didn't have to deal with history coming to life.
She grabbed the reins of the horse. Too bad she didn't know what she was doing. She gave the horse a slight kick in the side, and it trotted a few steps. She quickly pulled out her wand and gave him a slight zap in the backside. And they were off. She did her best to guide it toward the forest. The wind rushed through her hair and she was suddenly very cold. She heard shouting behind her and soon heard more galloping behind her. They were chasing her. She urged her horse to go faster. The forest grew closer and closer. She didn't know what she was going to do when she got there, had no idea. But she needed to run, get away from the awful truth. She had gone back in time and had no way of getting back. This could only mean trouble.
A/N: I have no idea where this is going, but it's fun! I'm trying to decide if there should be a pairing or not. I'm thinking maybe Gawain, or maybe Lancelot, but I've already written one of those. Anyway, that's all for now!
Chapter Two: I'm So Lonely I Could Cry.
Suddenly awaking in a strange forest which is part of strange land that you don't recognize whatsoever is one thing, but managing to completely alienate the first natives you meet of said land within a span of five minutes took real talent. You had to be really daft to do that.
Darwin was one of those unlucky people who barely ever thought before she spoke, rushed into things and had, unfortunately, just been dealt a disproportionately large amount of bad luck. As she sat alone in her little cell/compartment/ hole of death, she couldn't help but feel sorry for herself. She was beginning to feel very cramped sitting there, and wondered morbidly if she might develop a blood clot in her leg.
There was a dripping sound coming from somewhere. Of course there was, it just wouldn't be a proper dungeon without it. Sadly, the dripping water eventually became a way to keep time, and Darwin guesstimated that she had been in there for nearly ten hours. She felt very tired, but was afraid to go to sleep.
She wondered idly how long they were going to keep her in there and how long the other captives had already been there. She knew there was at least one other prisoner there besides the girl who had spoken earlier, because at times she heard whimpers coming from the darkness. She thought it might be a child, but prayed that she was wrong. Her stomach growled and she mentally growled back and told it to shut up.
She supposed she should've felt horribly indignant and angry that another human being had presumed such control and power over her, but it just wasn't in her nature. In her seventeen and half years, life had taken the time to teach a few very valuable lessons. Such as, it really is always best to just tell the truth as it eventually saves you a lot of trouble. It's always best to look on the bright side of life because no one likes a pessimist and an angst ridden teen is so cliche. Finally, always try to find the humour in the situation. Laughter is, after all, the same in every language and it's food for the soul. Laughter and a light heart can get you very far, although you wouldn't think it.
The time ticked slowly away, the dungeon's gloomy atmosphere never changing. At intervals, Darwin and the other captives were submitted to the rambling sermons of the monks. She thought going to mass every Sunday and having to listen to the Indian priest who couldn't speak English very well was bad, but this was just ridiculous. These men had clearly lost their minds a long time ago. They all had this crazed, deranged look to them, with their stringy hair and bony hands and sunken eyes.
They would pace back forth and just go on and on about how great the grace of God was and how they were going to be given salvation and how they would accompany them to receive said salvation and how it was the prisoners' lot in life to be sacrificed. They would've made great Jehovah's witnesses.
Just as one of the monks was reaching the pinnacle of his sermon, getting all riled up and excited, Darwin couldn't help but laugh. It started as a little giggle that she tried to stifle, but the laughter just bubbled up from her belly and exploded.
The monk stopped dead in the middle of what he was doing and just glared in her direction.
"You laugh at the teachings of the Lord?" He asked incredulously.
"No, I'm laughing at you." She barked out another laugh. "You're funny."
"Insolent child!" He screamed. "You shall receive no food rations for the next three days. Perhaps that will teach you to laugh at God." He turned on his heel and was followed out of the room by the other two monks.
"Good!" She yelled back. She felt very satisfied with herself. At least now they could be prisoners in peace instead of listening to anymore insane rambling.
"Do you realize what you've done?" She heard a voice say. It was the girl from before, the one who's cell was close to hers.
Darwin shrugged, only to realize that the girl wouldn't be able to see her do it.
"I don't care." She said flatly.
"Surely, you will starve." The girl said, and there was concern in her voice.
"Meh. I wouldn't want to eat anything they gave me anyway. Have you seen the dirt under his fingernails?" Darwin said simply.
There was no response for a moment and most likely the girl didn't know what to make of Darwin.
"Where do you come from?" Darwin heard the girl asked suddenly. Hmmm, this could be difficult. She thought she might tell the truth, but then figured she had had just about enough alienation for one day.
"I'm not from around here." She said after a moment. "Where are you from?" She asked, although she wasn't sure why, because she most definitely didn't know the place.
"I am a woad. I live north of here." The girl said. She sounded sad. Maybe she missed her family.
"Uh huh, I see, I see." Darwin replied, pretending like she knew what she was talking about. "How long have you been in here?"
"Nearly a month, I believe." The girl replied. She sounded so tired. It was obvious from her voice that she was young, but in that moment she sounded so very old.
Darwin gave a low whistle. That was impressive. She had stayed in this hell hole for that long without going crazy. The girl deserved a prize.
"What's your name?" Darwin asked brightly. The past few hours had been so dull and depressing and now she finally had something to occupy her time. Huzzah!
"Guinevere, and yours?" Guinevere asked from her cell. Darwin heard her move to the other end of her cell, coming closer to her.
"I'm Darwin." She said, and not for the last time in her life she rolled her eyes at her silly name and her dad's damned fascination with the theory of evolution.
"It is a strange name, but a nice one." Guinevere said from her cell. There was a pause. It was, in reality, quite an odd situation to find one's self in and any sort of conversation just seemed a little out of place.
"Is it true what they say?" Guinevere asked. She seemed genuinely curious.
"True what they say what?" Darwin asked, confused.
"That you are, in fact, a witch?"
"Oh, um, well....." Darwin trailed off. This had already gotten her into a lot of trouble and she didn't really want anymore of it.
"Do not be afraid. I will not condemn you like these tyrants do." There was just something so honest and strong about the way she spoke that Darwin couldn't lie to her.
"Yes." She said finally. "Yes, I am."
"Are you acquainted with Merlin?" Guinevere asked, now sounding very excited.
Darwin gave an aggravated little sigh. "Who is this Merlin guy?" She asked.
"He is a great Wizard. Those who live in the south fear him and believe he is evil, but he truly is not. I know him to be a man of great kindness." She replied.
"Riiiight." Darwin said, thinking for a moment. Another person of magic? Hmmmm. If anyone was likely to know what was going on, it was him. Maybe he knew how to get back to Hogwarts. "I'd like to meet him." She said finally.
"If we ever leave this place, I will bring you to him." Guinevere promised.
Darwin's main rule in life was to always try and find the humour in every situation, but after being in that place for nearly a week, she found it hard to even open her eyes, least of all laugh. It now seemed even more of a feat that Guinevere had been able to survive there for over a month. It just seemed impossible to her now. She experienced a cold like she had never known. It sunk right into her bones and stayed there. Her arms and legs felt week from lack of use, her head and stomach were pained from lack of food and she felt dirty. Disgustingly dirty. Her skin itched
and her hair was a matted mess.
When the monks weren't around, Darwin and Guinevere would sometimes talk, or sometimes Guinevere would call across to the other prisoner, a little boy named Lucan. But as the days passed, Darwin didn't feel like talking. A strange depression was setting in as she realized she might die in this place. She came to admire Guinevere for her strength. She knew she could not last a month in the place, and, to be honest, probably wouldn't last another week.
Time would slowly drag by, and she could feel herself getting weaker. She found she thought often of Hogwarts, and all her friends there. She wondered if they had any clue what had happened to her and if they were looking for her. She thought of her parents and wondered what they were doing and if they were missing her.
She had to admit, the whole premise of the situation did seem a bit medieval, but then again, the Wizarding world existed completely unbeknownst to the rest of the world, and perhaps this was a similar situation. She just prayed something would happen soon.
Just as hope seemed to be fading, something did happen. Her biological clock told her that it was sometime late in the morning and the grumbling in her stomach told her it was close to lunch time. The monks looked like they were just about to launch into another sermon when a loud banging came from the door. Someone was tying to break in! This could only be a good thing.
Darwin scuttled to the front of her cell and rammed her head against the bars to try and see what was going on. She could hear someone descending down the stairs, and light was flickering on the walls. The monk she hated the most hobbled over to where the light was coming from.
"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?" She heard him hiss. 'Oh shut up, you crotchety old wing bag', she thought.
Then there was a second voice, a strong male voice that spoke. She couldn't hear what he said, but it brought a smile to her face.'Where have you been all my life?' she thought. These people would help them, she could feel it. There was more said, but all she could make out was something about survivors.
She tried to yell, but she was speechless. Well, she thought, there really is a first time for everything. There was suddenly a great energy in the dungeon. It was waking her up, knocking life back into her senses. She felt a sudden rush of strength and banged her firsts on her cell bars.
To her dismay, her efforts only caused a small little ping sound.
'Ugh' she thought. 'I'm such a girl.'
By the sound of it, there was now a small herd of people in the sad little hole in the ground. There was a loud clanging noise which could only mean one thing. They were opening the cells! She banged furiously on her cell bars now, 'Me next, me next, me next!' her mind screamed.
Guinevere was strangely quiet in her cell and Darwin could only pray that she was alright. Her mind now had become consumed with her own survival though. Her throat was on fire now. From trying to yell and her harsh breathing it was now stiff and burning and brought tears to her eyes.
The dungeon slowly became more and more illuminated and the footsteps drew closer and closer.
"This one's dead." She heard someone say. 'But I'm not!' she wanted to scream.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she saw a pair of heavily armoured boots come into view. The owner of the feet which filled said boots bent down and his face swam into view. He had dark features and dark hair, but more importantly had a sword in his hands. She couldn't say anything, only smiled and prayed that she didn't pass out from the exertion. He gave the slightest smile back and then stepped back so that he could swing at the latch holding the cell bars.
The noise it made falling to the ground was one of the nicest she had ever heard. She went to scramble out of the cell so fast that she forgot about the chains around her wrists. Her wrists hurt something fierce after that. All she could do was lay in a heap on the ground, her wrists angled toward the cell.
"Do not move." She heard the man say. She saw him raise his sword, preparing to cut the chains. 'Oh please be careful', she prayed. In all honesty though, she would have rather lost a hand or two then spend another minute in that dreadful place.
His sword swung down with expert precision and her wrists were free.
"Lancelot, bring her outside." The man said. Another man who had been standing close by bent down next to her and flashed her a small smile. Survey says, doable. Even in the darkness of the dungeon she could tell was a very handsome man. She gladly allowed him to pick her up, but before he began to walk, she frantically pointed in the direction of Guinevere's cell.
"Don't forget," She squeaked out. "Guinevere."
Satisfied with herself, she slumped against his chest and watched gladly as the dungeon floated by. If she was sure of anything in her life, it was that she would never, ever see this place again.
Lancelot carried her outside into the bright sun. It was like leaving a movie theater times ten. She could barely keep her eyes open, it hurt so bad. He set her gently down on the ground and for a moment, she felt like she was drunk. Her head swam and her limbs tingled. He brought her some water which she drank very quickly.
"Thank you." She said from her place on the ground.
"You are welcome, my lady." He said. 'Oh, did you hear that? He thinks I'm a lady!' her mind said and she giggled.
She continued to lay on the ground for a few more moments, just enjoying the fresh air and sunlight. She kept her eyes closed and breathed deep. This was nice. Someone was calling for water, and she cracked her eyes open to see that Guinevere too was being taken care of. She watched the scene unfold for a moment and felt a deep happiness that things were starting to go right.
But then that stupid monk started talking. Uh oh, spoke too soon. He was gesturing towards Guinevere and Lucan, most likely saying something along the lines of them being heathens. Then he took a few steps toward her, stopped, and glared down at her.
"And this one's a witch." He nearly growled.
Darwin scrambled to a sitting position as she heard Lancelot give a little snicker at her side. Well, at least someone wasn't a crazy prejudiced bastard around here.
"And this," The monk said, drawing her wand from his robes. "Is her instrument of evil."
This provoked a few more laughs from the other people gathered there and Darwin felt relieved. Perhaps she had just been very unlucky with her encounter with the monks.
"You old fool."Lancelot laughed. "It's nothing but a stick of wood." At this he plucked the wand from the monk's hand and twirled it around with his fingers. "See?" He gave another patronizing laugh and let the wand fall to the ground.
Darwin wanted to smack him, but realized the advantages of not doing so. A small argument between the men who had rescued them and the monks ensued and she took the opportunity to reclaim her wand while no one was looking. As she looked around, she noticed that a few of the villagers were staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths. They seemed to be keeping a great deal of distance between themselves and her and every time she moved they would jump. For a just a moment, she thought that she understood a fraction of what it was like to be a Jew in Nazi Germany, or an African American during times of slavery. Or, more fittingly, someone accused of witchcraft during the Salem witch hunts. In that moment, she felt hated and despised. They loathed her and she was irrevocably different from them. They glared at her like she was sub-human and hide their children behind them, as if they feared she might eat them. Maybe Lancelot didn't believe in accusations of witchcraft, but they sure did. She looked away and stared at the ground, her cheeks flushing. She had never felt so unwelcome in her life.
It seemed as though the monks had greatly annoyed the leader of the group, because the man who had freed her from her cell was now shouting for the monks to be walled back up. Good riddance to bad rubbish, they deserved it.
As that was being done, the man spoke with Guinevere, no doubt asking about her ordeal. After a few moments of that, he made his way over to her. Not wanting to be rude, she scrambled to her feet. Her head felt a little woozy, but this man just commanded respect. As she stood, she felt her gold necklace, with a small gold cross attached, topple out from under her blouse.
"No need to exert yourself on my behalf." He said kindly, but for a moment, she swore she saw just a hint of the prejudice in his eyes that was so abundant in the villagers. He hid it well though.
"It's alright." She said. "I'm fine." It actually felt really good to stand up and stretch her legs. Plus, her arse was starting to get really sore from sitting for so long.
He seemed to be considering her. There was something unreadable in his eyes. He didn't trust her, that was for sure. His eyes moved to the cross around her neck.
"I see you wear the cross of our Lord. You are a Christian?" He asked, and as he did so, something softened in his eyes.
Coming from an Irish- Italian family, she never really had a chance. She was a Roman Catholic and had been since before she was born.
"Yes," She replied, nodding her head
He continued to regard her for another moment. His eyes moving from her face to her the cross around her neck. She felt slightly uncomfortable. She felt as though she were being tested. She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. She knew she needed this man's help to get back home.
"What is your name?" He asked finally.
"Darwin Moore." She replied, and as expected, both he and Lancelot quirked an eyebrow. She wanted to roll her eyes and ask they of they had ever heard of Charles Darwin, but she stopped herself. "And who are you?" She asked.
"I am Arthur Castus." There was so much power and strength in his voice, that Darwin suddenly felt very small standing in front of him.
"And who are these people?" She asked, motioning the other armoured men there.
"These are the famed Sarmatian knights." He said this as if it were very obvious.
"I see." She said slowly, and a strange tally was beginning in her mind. Arthur called over another one of the knights, a blonde, shaggy-haired one, and said something to him. He motioned in Darwin's direction, but she barely noticed.
........Hmmmm, Arthur, why does that sound familiar?.......
Her mind began to work. The people of the village were loading wagons and packing up their things. Apparently, they were leaving. The blonde knight came over to her leading a horse behind him. He regarded her with a funny look, before introducing himself as Gawain. She mumbled her name back, but she was preoccupied.
........Lancelot. Guinevere. Where have I heard those names?......
Gawain said something about her riding with him. She shrugged and nodded. She had never ridden a horse before. This would surely be interesting. He more or less picked her up and plopped her on the horse without saying a word. The horse shifted and stamped it's hooves. Out of reflex, she grabbed onto the saddle. She looked up at the sky, and blinked. Something wasn't quite right here.
........Merlin? Wasn't there a wizard named Merlin on the Famous Wizards Cards that came in the chocolate frogs?...........
Gawain walked a few steps toward one of the other knight's who was already mounted on his horse. They began to speak, but Darwin couldn't hear what they were saying. Everything had faded to background noise as her mind slowly worked toward the awful conclusion. She slid her hand into her pocket and ran her fingers along her wand. She had a feeling she would need it soon. She glanced over at Arthur. She stared at him for a moment before finally admitting that he was dressed like a Roman soldier.
..........Okay, so we have a Roman soldier who is named Arthur and is the leader of a group of knights. One of said knights is named Lancelot, okay......There's a girl named Guinevere who knows a Wizard named Merlin, hmmm......Not to mention, there's a bunch of people walking around in rags, pulling wooden wagons, living on a farm, with a strong prejudice toward witchcraft......Oh, and don't forget the crazy monks..........
"Oh my God." She gasped as it hit her like a pile of bricks. She wasn't near Hogwarts. Not anywhere close. She wasn't even in the right century. This was King Arthur! And the Knights of the Roundtable! Oh shit!
How could this happen? Of all the ridiculous, unfair, stupid things to happen. This?! Honestly, who goes back in time?
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no." She whimpered. Her breathing quickened and she grasped the saddle tighter. She suddenly felt dizzy and feared she might throw up. She was so far from home it was unbelievable.
Suddenly Gawain was at her side. He looked up at her.
"Something the matter, lady?" He asked.
"You're a knight of the roundtable." She stated.
"Yes." He looked quite confused.
"NO!" She whined. Anything but this! What was she going to do now? She felt panic rising in her, but this was unlike the panic she felt when she awoke in the woods. Then, she had merely been lost, looking for her way back to the castle. Now, she was lost in time, with no clue of how to get back. "This can't be happening! Not to me!"
She could feel tears prick at her eyes. She had drawn the attention of a few of the other knights there, and they began to come nearer, swords drawn. The horse, sensing their mood, shifted again, and moved slightly.
They all regarded her with a strange look as they came closer. They did not trust her. They were going to hurt her. Her mind became a cacophony of sounds and blurs of colour and she suddenly wanted to run. Get as far away from them as possible. Back to the woods. That was safe. There she didn't have to deal with history coming to life.
She grabbed the reins of the horse. Too bad she didn't know what she was doing. She gave the horse a slight kick in the side, and it trotted a few steps. She quickly pulled out her wand and gave him a slight zap in the backside. And they were off. She did her best to guide it toward the forest. The wind rushed through her hair and she was suddenly very cold. She heard shouting behind her and soon heard more galloping behind her. They were chasing her. She urged her horse to go faster. The forest grew closer and closer. She didn't know what she was going to do when she got there, had no idea. But she needed to run, get away from the awful truth. She had gone back in time and had no way of getting back. This could only mean trouble.
A/N: I have no idea where this is going, but it's fun! I'm trying to decide if there should be a pairing or not. I'm thinking maybe Gawain, or maybe Lancelot, but I've already written one of those. Anyway, that's all for now!