DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything from King Arthur or the show Merlin which I referenced for the spells used in this chapter. The only characters I own are Natalie and Adria.

The Calling

Natalie grimaced as she made her way through the entrance to the tavern. It was more crowded than the first time she had been there. Any notions she had of being able to simple slip in the room unnoticed were gone. The only free seats were across from the entrance, straight through the throng of people. She swallowed her nervousness and pushed her shoulders back before walking down the cleared aisle to a seat. Noise dimmed as the strange occupant appeared. Some may have recognized her from the night before, but the intrigue was still there; stronger for those who had never seen her. The noise returned to its previous caliber when she sat down, but she could feel the eyes of some still lingering. An unknown barmaid set a pint of ale in front of her, after much coaxing. If it were the 21st century, Natalie would have definitely complained about the shoddy service. It was quite obvious that the woman didn't want to serve her, but she wasn't going to put up with being ignored. "Cheers," Natalie said aloud to no one before tilting back and drinking.

"You're cheerful after that argument?" Galahad asked sitting down and startling her. She played it off well and shrugged. "It's a saying that goes a long with a toast. Oh hell, I really don't belong here," She mumbled looking over her shoulder. Most had the decency to look away as she turned to face them, but a few, including the cruddy barmaid continued to stare, or in the latter's case, glare. "I sincerely hope that isn't your girl or something because I'm not above a drunken brawl," She said gesturing at the barmaid. Galahad looked at her and wrinkled his nose. If Natalie weren't so pissed off, she might have found the action adorable. "That is Caerlyn. She is not exactly pleasant company and has a rather…open manner with the men in the fort. She's been trying to catch our attention for weeks, but even Lancelot has snubbed her," He explained and looked as though he had tasted something dirty.

Galahad grabbed a mug of ale from a passing barmaid and turned back to Natalie. "Oh how kind! You got me another," She exclaimed grabbing his drink from him and guzzling the liquid. "It would be best if you slowed down. You may get sick." He warned good-naturedly as he simply got another drink. "I want to be smashed as soon as possible and that won't happen if I'm daintily sipping. This isn't tea. It's medieval alcohol that I intend to enjoy," She growled and he held up his hands defensively. He did not ask what "smashed" meant. He didn't want to do anything to incur her wrath. She nodded as if to end it and continued to drink. "This is like really sweet Guinness," She murmured and continued to drink.

They sat there in silence with Galahad stealing a look at her every now and then. "You know Natalie, the clothing of this time really does suit you," He complimented trying to get her to speak. Women seemed to like talking of clothing and trinkets. "Galahad what are you a bird? We are not about to sit here and talk about clothes." Galahad looked a bit confused at her word use but shrugged it off. "Natalie…your life is an adventure. You've time traveled and your father turns out to be one of the Knights of the Round Table. Why do you insist on sitting here drowning yourself in ale? You are much stronger than that," Galahad said as he spun his tankard in his hands. Natalie grew stiff beside him and for once had nothing smart to say.

"I don't know if you realize it, but you just ate dinner with a King. Many of his citizens will never get the chance to do that in their lifetime. You did it after being here only two days. Don't get me wrong. You have a lot to be angry about, especially with Morien's foolishness. I have never seen him act this way before. He's usually calm and collected. That's beside the point though. You are here for a reason and you are here to do something great. Whether you remain or not, you will change the world Natalie. The thought alone should make you not fall prey to petty emotions."

His words sunk in and Natalie felt herself tear up. "You're really good at pep talks," She said and wiped her eyes. She pushed her drink away and slowly stood up. "C'mon gallant knight. We have a mission tomorrow," She said and grabbed his proffered arm. He smiled down at her and brushed some of her hair from her face. "There's the Natalie that saved my life," He whispered and she blushed. Stupid knight with adorable curly hair, she thought as they left the tavern. Natalie couldn't resist the opportunity to make a face at Caerlyn as they walked out.

Morien went to the practice grounds and lit the surrounding torches. It was still dark but he could see well enough to use his bow. He littered the target with arrows, one after the other. "You made a mistake," A voice said from his side and it took all of his will power not to jump. Tristan looked over at his brother in arms who sighed. "I think I know that," He said through gritted teeth and notched his bow back.

Tristan shrugged and leaned against the tree they both stood under. "If you knew that, you would not be making the same mistakes over and over. Natalie will never consider herself your kin as long as you try to force those feelings. She is not of this time and if you notice, she feels more empowered than even our Queen does. You fight with flame and she with water. Every time you attack her, she will wash you out. Use your head or lose your daughter," The scout said and walked away.

Morien's shoulders sagged and he felt his anger die out. There simply was no winning.

The next morning Natalie was pleased to find a pile of clothes for her journey along with a small dagger. Natalie first saw a greyish-blue long sleeved dress whose skirt was made of what seemed like a split skirt with two long slits going up either side. Under this, she pulled up the pair of dark brown breeches and laced up the boots that went up to the top of her calves. It was, unbeknownst to her, traditional Woad clothing for women when they weren't in battle. She pulled her hair back into two pigtails tied with the elastic bands she'd had when she first arrived.

Tucking the dagger in her boot and sliding the cloak over her shoulders, Natalie felt as if she were really going to get something done. "This is frighteningly awesome," She said as she grabbed her packed bag and wandered out into the hall. With the assistance of the colored cloths, she found her way to the table room and was pleasantly surprised to see nearly everyone there. She bowed to Arthur and Guinevere giving them an apologetic smile for her behavior the night before. Arthur nodded and Guinevere winked. Suddenly, she knew just who to thank for her new wardrobe.

She nodded at the others including Morien to his shock before sitting next to Galahad. "Morning Natalie," He said grinning sleepily. "Morning Gal," She replied and started eating. Breakfast was quiet and quick. Four of them would be leaving, while the others would watch the kingdom. Soon, everyone was in the stables preparing to depart. Tristan quietly prepared his horse as his hawk flew off, probably off to get one last meal before she'd return to him.

Galahad, now much more awake, was whistling a tune while he adjusted his saddle and loaded his weapons onto his horse. Natalie shook her head at his cheery disposition and looked into the eyes of the horse that she would be riding. He was a chestnut colored gelding with black hair. She could tell that he was young and around 14 hands. Natalie also knew that he'd be a prized horse back home. "His name is Tobran," Morien said as he stood beside her. Natalie tensed an action that did not go unnoticed by her father. Holding back a sigh, he continued. "He's gentle and generally kind. He is also one of our most intelligent horses, though he is not the fastest. It's best to have a smart, well-paced horse, than a speedy dim-witted one." Natalie nodded and reached up to stroke the gelding's muzzle. "Pardon milady," Jols said and entered the stall leading Tobran out. As soon as the saddle was fastened to him, the horse moved from side to side, almost impatiently and snorted.

Natalie blanched a bit as she looked up nervously at the horse. She had not ridden since she was a child and even then the visits to the stable were erratic and inconsistent. Her love for the animals outweighed her parent's ability to afford the expenses of riding lessons. No one seemed to notice her difficulty in figuring out how to mount the horse as she walked around him. "Of all things to have a brainfart on Natalie. Honestly," She muttered and combed her memories on the best way to mount. With her left hand holding on to the saddle, she placed her foot into the stirrup and swung her leg over the horse. Natalie afforded herself a small victory dance before guiding Tobran over to the others.

The Queen had a small hilt at hand which she secured to Natalie's saddle. "I know you don't know how to use weapons, but having it at hand would not hurt," Guinevere told her sagely and was met with a grin. At a signal, the gates were pulled open and the departing group galloped out into the grayness of winter in Briton.

~The Calling~

Nimue strode up to the cottage in the woods and sighed. This was her old home before Mordred had taken her in, but she still kept her dark materials here. One being a particular book of sorcery that she did not want him to know about. A glance at her reflection made her cringe. She looked like that ghastly girl who was gallivanting around Arthur's court. She missed her pale complexion, long hair, and piercing blue eyes. Morien always adored how lithe and beautiful she was. Just thinking of him made her heartache. "Oh Mordred… I cannot wait for us to be free to rule this land," She murmured wistfully. A crystal bowl filled with cloudy water rested in the center of the cottage and she walked towards it while filing through the book for a spell.

"Diegol cnytte, gewitte me yst, þa tacnian me yst þonne ieceþ sicle. Diegol cnytte, gewitte me yst, þa tacnian me yst þonne ieceþ sicle. Swilte ar ond calan, drædan morðor, to Camelot he cymþ," Nimue recited while waving her hands over the murky water. Images flooded the bowl of Natalie and the knights riding along the trail as they hurried to get to Adria. Nimue watched with horrid fascination before letting out an angered cry. She stormed out of the cottage waving her hands to close the door and lock it. A dark horse barreled towards her and she flung herself on to riding furiously.

The images meant one thing: if she did not hurry, they would beat her to Adria and Mordred would never let her back into his arms. "FASTER!" She screamed to her beast of a horse as its hooves thundered through the forest.

Nimue would die before letting Mordred down.

~End Chapter~

Review. Yell at me for how long it took me to update. I would have sooner, but life has a bad habit of getting in the way of the things we truly want to do.