Rated PG-13: language, sexual references in the last section, including slash elements.
Reviews are always appreciated.
"Tommy, I'm sorry. If we'd known this could happen..."
"Not your fault." But the face Tommy turned to Wes was tense and anxious.
They had all decided - reluctantly on Eric's part - it was better to demorph until they had a better idea of where they were. Not to mention when. There was nothing but trees, grass, and bushes around them, no sign of a city, a road, anything.
Eric lowered his arm after a silent conversation with his morpher. "It says it can't determine where we are. Can't find enough points of reference. Also-" he took a deep breath, his eyes widening slightly. "It can't say what time we're in. Or even if we're on Earth anymore. I have a feeling we're seriously lost."
It was later... how much later, Wes wasn't sure he wanted to know. With no recognizable landmarks and no sign of any other human beings, they had simply picked a direction and started walking. By some kind of mutual agreement, they hadn't discussed the situation, hadn't talked much beyond the few times when they needed to decide which path to take.
They were all tired. Wes was grimly determined not to slow them down; Eric's face wore the mulish expression that meant he would sooner die than show weakness, but Tommy looked - bad. He was pale, his face was pinched, and he had hardly said a word.
"Are you okay?" Wes asked.
Tommy dragged a hand over his forehead, wiping away a film of sweat. "Just because we're stranded who-knows-where, maybe not even on Earth, with no way to get home... Why shouldn't I be okay?"
"I guess we're all in the same boat now. But I'm sorry you got involved."
"Yeah, I know." Tommy sighed. "Don't mean to take it out on you."
"It's okay, I understand." Wes raised his voice slightly to reach Eric, who was a few steps ahead. "I need a break. Let's stop for a few minutes."
Without comment, Tommy sank down heavily on a convenient boulder. Wes found a seat next to him. Eric stared around into the forest for a few seconds, and then came closer and lowered himself to sit cross-legged on a pile of fallen leaves.
"I need to get back," Tommy muttered. "Those kids are up against Mesogog, Elsa, the evil white Ranger, Zeltrax, and whatever monsters they create. They need me."
"They seemed like they can take care of themselves."
"But they're just kids. Hayley will do what she can, but..." He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "They wouldn't be Rangers if not for me. I'm responsible for them. And they don't know where I am or what happened to me, they'll waste their time looking for me."
"Wes is right, they'll be okay," Eric said unexpectedly. "Nothing you can do about it, anyway," he added with a frown.
"Man, I can't believe this crap..."
Eric looked up with a half-smile. "Is that the kind of language Rangers use?"
And to Wes's surprise, Tommy smiled back. "Under the circumstances, I think it's appropriate."
"So - should we keep going in the same direction?" Wes asked.
"Maybe we should just look for the nearest shelter and stay put," Eric said. "Try to find food. Wait for the storm to come back. No point in wandering around, and we don't know what we might run into."
"But there must be a reason we're here, and we're not going to find it by sitting here in the woods."
"A reason why we're here?" Tommy asked.
"Wes has the idea that we're supposed to do something in each dimension. Put the wrong things right or some shit like that."
"Like that TV show?"
"Well, we got Jen to give the other Wes the red morpher, didn't we?"
"And what did you do in my dimension?" Tommy asked pointedly.
"Besides get Tommy into the same mess we're in," Eric muttered.
"Okay, don't believe me. But I still think I'm right." Wes knew his annoyance wasn't really justified, and was at least in part a product of physical discomfort and mental anxiety. Still, they could at least try to see his side of it... He stood up restlessly and moved a few steps away, only to stop abruptly, head raised. "Do you hear something?"
"Yeah," Eric answered softly. He was on his feet, too.
The sound came to them again faintly, the rustle and crunch of dry leaves as something moved, the snap of a twig breaking, the thud of a footfall. And something else, a sound that set Wes's heart leaping with both hope and concern. The unmistakably human sound of whistling.
'There he is...' Eric didn't say it aloud, but the sudden tension of his body and the fixed way he stared spoke louder than any words. They had stalked the mystery whistler for the last fifteen minutes, slowly getting closer while trying not to make any noise which might alert him, no easy task in the near-total silence of the forest. Now they crouched behind the cover of a slight rise in the hillside they had been descending. Wes had glimpsed a path winding below them; the person they were following must be going along it. Eric was in the lead, now peering over the edge.
Impatiently, Wes reached up and tugged on his partner's arm. Eric glanced down at him and Tommy, and raised a hand to hold a finger across his lips. 'I know,' Wes mouthed at him. He needed no warning to be quiet - carefully he eased his way up to where he could see. And found out why Eric had been concerned, as the sight he saw very nearly pulled an exclamation of shock from him.
A few yards downslope from them, a man on a horse was riding past at a leisurely walk, still whistling some unidentifiable tune. But not just any man on a horse... he was wearing a short black tunic over a silvery-gray metallic material that Wes recognized as chain mail, encasing his body from head to metal-gauntleted hands to armor-plated feet. A crested helmet with a movable visor and a plume of feathers swaying from the top hid his face. Even the horse wore metallic shielding, in addition to an elaborate bridle and saddle. Wes gasped wordlessly. A knight. The armor wasn't exactly shining, but it was utterly recognizable.
As the knight rode away, the three of them stared at each other. Finally Eric turned and led the way back up the hill. It took another five minutes until he apparently thought they were far enough away to talk safely and turned to face them.
"Incredible..." Tommy muttered. "Just incredible."
"Unless we've wandered into someone's Renaissance fair or something, we must have gone back in time," Eric said. "Way back."
"Might be Dark Ages, or Medieval," Tommy said. "We could be hundreds of years in the past - or more - I don't know."
"How long ago were there knights like that?" Wes asked.
"I don't know," he repeated. "Hundreds of years. A thousand, maybe."
"I thought you're a teacher," Eric said. "You're a doctor of something or other, aren't you? How come you don't know?"
Tommy shot him an exasperated look. "I'm a paleontologist, not a historian. I don't know everything."
"Does it matter?" Wes demanded. "We're a long time in the past. What difference does it make how long?"
Tommy sighed. "We have to decide whether to contact the people in this time. Might be useful to know when we are. Get a general idea of how they're likely to react."
"You're right," Eric said grudgingly. "I guess we should follow that guy. He might lead us to whatever they've got for civilization around here."
"Where is he?" Wes asked in a barely audible whisper as they crouched behind the clump of bushes they were using for cover.
Tommy only shrugged, not moving his gaze from the clearing where they had caught up with the knight. Or at least with his horse. It grazed a few yards away, still saddled, the reins dropped to the ground. There was no sign of the man who should be riding it.
"Maybe he stopped to take a leak," Eric whispered.
"I don't know. Why would he bother to go into the woods?"
"Yeah, nobody around to see him except the horse..."
"Unless he knows he's not alone..." Tommy twisted to look around and behind them, and abruptly froze.
Amazing that none of them had heard him, was the first thing Wes thought. He was standing maybe twenty feet away, sword drawn and held in a position that was not quite threatening. Of course, from his point of view three unarmored and apparently weaponless men wouldn't seem very menacing.
"Who are you? Why have you been following me?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled by the helmet covering his face but sounding more curious than hostile.
"We're - uh..." Tommy stammered, "We're travelers. From a distant land."
"With such strange clothing, it must be a very distant land." He took a step forward. "You seem familiar. Have we met, sir?"
"I don't think that's possible." Tommy stood and stepped away from the bushes that had partially concealed him from the knight, with Wes and Eric following cautiously.
"What...?" The knight stiffened, his sword lowering to the ground. "My lord? What are you doing here? What's happened to your hair? And who are they?"
Tommy glanced back. Wes knew his face must show his confusion, and Eric shrugged slightly. "I think you've mistaken me for someone else," he said. "I've never been in this part of the world before."
The man took another couple of steps closer and hesitated, staring from behind his visor. "Perhaps - perhaps... Yes, there are differences, and yet..." He lifted the sword again slightly. "I will escort you to court. The king and queen must see this, if you truly are not... They will know what to do."
"Might as well," Eric said softly.
"Yeah," Wes said. "We wanted civilization, and it looks like we're going to get it."
"Okay." Tommy turned back to their new acquaintance. "Lead the way."
They saw it when they came out of the woods an hour later, spread out below under the late afternoon sun as they looked down a gentle, grassy slope which leveled off before the town began. The most noticeable feature at first glance was the high stone wall enclosing a cluster of buildings. Around it, narrow streets wound between a scattering of other, smaller buildings. The structures inside the wall were mostly built of stone, those outside mostly of wood. A large gate stood open, guards at either side, occasionally nodding or talking to the people who walked through. They were wearing armor very much like that of the black knight, as Wes had come to think of him. Most of the other men they saw were wearing some sort of tunic over soft leggings, some of the better-dressed ones with cloaks. The women wore long, full dresses and most had cloth headpieces covering their hair.
"What is this place?" Tommy asked as they stopped to stare.
"You don't know?" The knight, seated on his horse behind them, sounded genuinely puzzled. "Whatever distant land you're from, you must have heard of Camelot." In the stunned silence that followed he turned the horse's head and started for the town.
"Camelot?" Eric hissed in an outraged tone. "We're in friggin' Camelot?"
"Oh, my God," Wes said, feeling numb. "Camelot - King Arthur - oh my God."
"There probably was no historical King Arthur," Tommy said. "But - this just isn't right."
"None of this is right!" Eric went on, his voice rising. "Now we're stuck who knows how far in the past-"
"Shhh, he'll hear you," Wes said.
"Who cares? Maybe I'm just having a nightmare, and he's a figment of my imagination!"
"This can't be Camelot," Tommy said.
"Hey, it's got knights and a stone castle. Sir what's-his-name says it's Camelot."
"But there's one thing that doesn't fit. English."
"Huh? ... Oh."
"You're right," Wes said. "Camelot was like a thousand years ago. They didn't speak English then. Did they?"
"Certainly not modern American English. Either we're in some dimension where history happened a lot differently, or-"
"Or we're nuts," Eric finished. "Or maybe all of them are."
They fell silent as they entered the town, and followed the black knight down what appeared to be a main road leading towards the gated wall. At first Wes thought the stares and whispers they were attracting were because of their clothes - until he realized the townspeople were all looking at Tommy. After enduring several blocks of shocked attention, Tommy bent his head, hiding his face as best he could and avoiding their curious eyes.
But there was no way to avoid the two guards as they approached the gate. The knight slowed to a stop as they reached it, and nodded as the guards straightened, clasped the hilts of their sheathed swords, and bent their heads in what was obviously a salute.
"Good day, Sir Galahad," one of them called. Wes exchanged a startled look with his companions.
"Good day to you."
"Who are these strangers? What is their business here?" The man stopped as he caught sight of Tommy, who again turned his face away. "Is that..."
"Only a passing resemblance. These men are with me, and are unarmed. I wish them to see the king."
"The king..."
The other guard took over as the first one stared at Tommy, looking completely bewildered. "The king must be inside; he hasn't left the castle today. I'm sure he'll want to see this. Proceed, Sir Galahad."
"Thank you."
They proceeded, walking inside the wall into a town within the town, the buildings bigger and more solid but the same bustle of people, and the same startled looks. The knight led them through several twists and turns on cobblestone streets, headed inwards towards the largest and most impressive object in sight: what certainly looked like a small castle, complete with round, turreted towers, narrow windows, and a drawbridge, currently lowered.
"Jesus," Eric muttered. "Sir Galahad. Figures. And I guess the king they were talking about is Arthur."
"But - King Arthur and Sir Galahad, Guinevere, Lancelot, the whole bunch of them didn't really exist - possibly based on historical figures, but mostly fictional - at least I thought so..." Tommy said.
"Does he look fictional to you?" Eric waved a hand at their knightly escort.
"We're in some other dimension, remember," Wes said, "I guess a dimension in which Arthur did exist, along with all the knights and so on. But we can't count on what we've heard in the legends being true here."
"No," Tommy said. After a moment he added, "I must look like someone here. Galahad said so, and everyone keeps staring."
"Your other self in this dimension, maybe."
"But if we're in the past, how could that be?"
"How can any of this be?" Eric growled. "No point in wondering until we find out what's going on here."
Immediately outside the drawbridge, Galahad dismounted and handed the horse's reins to a boy who had run up to take them. On foot now, he started into the building, stopping briefly to speak to another couple of guards who were too disciplined to stare openly, one of whom took off into the interior at a trot.
There was evidence of wealth here, huge tapestries hung on the walls, portraying scenes of battles or the crowned figures of ancient kings and queens. The narrow stone frames of glassless windows gave them glimpses of a courtyard filled with graceful trees and a flower garden. The clothes here were rich, too, the men in longer versions of the tunics they had already seen, over either chain mail or fitted woven leggings and under loose full-length coats or cloaks. The women were colorful in long gowns with full skirts, with robes draped around them but left open down the front, their headdresses elaborate and often jeweled. The expressions of surprise were the same, though, as soon as they caught sight of Tommy.
Finally Galahad stopped to exchange a few words with the guards outside a heavy double door. They looked Wes, Eric, and Tommy up and down, and finally nodded and stepped aside. Galahad pulled the doors open and turned to speak to them.
"Come. The king is being notified, but the queen is here." He raised his hands and lifted his helmet up and off, tucking it under one arm, revealing the face of a good-looking black man, younger than Wes had expected, no more than twenty years old.
"Zack?!" Tommy was staring as if paralyzed, his eyes wide and round.
"I don't know any Zack. Come along, we're keeping the queen waiting." Galahad about-faced and strode inside the room, back straight.
"Zack? It's - it's Zack!" Tommy's voice shook.
"Be quiet and come on..." Eric took his arm and pulled. Wes took the other arm. They started after Galahad, or Zack, or whoever he was.
Inside was a room even more elaborately decorated than the corridors had been, velvet curtains hung over the walls, an immense oriental-looking carpet, a scattering of delicate furniture. And the two items that were meant to be the centerpieces, situated where they would catch the eye, at the center of the far wall. Two thrones, large and blocky, carved of some dark, gleaming wood, draped and cushioned with silk. In one of them a woman sat. Galahad-Zack stopped several feet in front of her and bowed deeply. Straightening again, he spoke.
"My queen, these are the men I sent you word of. I thought you and the king would be interested to see them."
"Indeed I am, Galahad. How curious." She leaned forward, her eyes bright. She was a small woman, also young, very pretty, brown hair under a thin gold circlet on her otherwise bare head, wearing a rose pink gown under a darker robe. Her lively face broke into a smile as she asked, "What are your names, strangers? Where did you come from, and what is your purpose here?"
Tommy had been staring at the knight, seeming stunned, but at the sound of her voice he looked up. If possible, his eyes got even rounder. "Kim?" he squeaked.
"My name is Guinevere," she said, still smiling as he continued to stare, his mouth now dropping open.
"Kim! What are you doing here? What's going on?"
Her gaze moved to Wes and Eric. "Is your friend touched in the head?"
"Another dimension, remember?" Wes hissed softly. "She must be another version of Kim." Whoever she was.
"Right. Right. I'm sorry, your - your majesty." Tommy shook off their hands and made a clumsy effort to bow. Wes followed his example and glared at Eric until he did likewise, grumbling under his breath all the way.
As they faced her again, she smiled even more brightly, her eyes rising to look at something behind them. "My lord Arthur!" she exclaimed. "You must see this, the resemblance is amazing!"
"What now..." Eric muttered as they all swung around.
"What - oh my God..." Tommy gasped. Wes grabbed his arm again, just in case.
Standing in the doorway was - Tommy. His hair shoulder-length, his face ten years younger. Dressed in a long, belted moss-green tunic over chain mail, his expression just as shocked as all of theirs. But without a doubt, it was Tommy.
TBC...