A/N: Hey everyone! I am so, so sorry for taking an eternity to update this story with a new chapter. I ran into a bit of a busy spell in real life and then I got distracted with writing a couple of other short, little one-shots. However, summer vacation has started and I now have more time to write, so hopefully, I can start updating on a speedier basis.
Also, I just wanted to say a huge thank-you to all of you who have reviewed. As some of you may have noticed, I suck at replying to reviews, but I really do appreciate all of the feedback! THANKS!
Chapter 4: Princes and Punks
Previously: "See … that's the thing. I'm not Merlin."
Sam waited with baited breath for a response from the old man. Slowly, but surely, Gaius' right eyebrow began to lift, arching higher and higher into his forehead as he stared at Sam.
The younger man could feel himself shrinking under the physician's scrutiny as an uncomfortable silence filled the chamber.
Knowing that he would ultimately lose the staring contest, Sam dropped his head and cleared his throat. "You um … you going to say anything?"
Gaius' eyes narrowed further, but he said nothing. Instead, he stood up and turned his back on Sam as he shuffled over to a nearby table and grabbed a lit candle. Before he understood what the old man was doing with the candle or voice a protest, Gaius brought the candle up to Sam's eyes and scrutinized them intensely, bringing the light it back and forth, nearly blinding Sam in the process.
"Well … your pupils appear to be reacting normally and are equal to each other …" The older man muttered.
"Gah!" Sam squinted, rubbing his eyes as soon as Gaius pulled the candle away. "I told you before that I don't have a head injury."
"Merlin … you're clearly confused –"
"No. I'm not. Listen to me, okay?" Sam raised his hands and grabbed the sleeves of Gaius' robe for emphasis. He spoke rapidly, his words almost tripping over each other in his haste to get everything out, "I know this sounds ten kinds of crazy, but my name is Sam Winchester. I don't know exactly how I ended up here, but this whole thing started when I touched this crystal thing back home. The next thing I know, I'm here, in Merlin's body, talking to dragons in my head and trying to convince you that I don't have a concussion or going crazy. Oh … and I'm from the future too, just so you know."
Sam panted after getting almost all of it out in one breath.
Gaius sat stunned. Sam knew he still had some convincing to do and he almost groaned in frustration. "I'm. Not. Merlin." Sam repeated slowly. "I mean, c'mon … listen to my voice. Do I even sound like I'm from around here?"
Something seemed to click in Gaius' head as his facial features went from confused to a dawning realization all in an instant, "You're not him, are you?"
Sam let out a relieved sigh and shook his head, "No."
For a few moments, Gaius sat staring at Sam as if trying to figure out how to proceed. But both of their attentions were diverted in the next moment when a knock sounded at the door. Before the old man could answer it, the prince of Camelot swaggered in.
"Ah, Merlin. Good, you're up. Feeling better this morning?" Arthur didn't notice both mentor and ward's surprised faces, seemingly preoccupied by a different concerns. He didn't let either man reply before he went on, "I just wanted to see that Merlin was doing better before I left … not that I really care or anything." He added.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Gaius' face, but then quickly faded, "You're leaving, Sire?"
Arthur nodded gravely, "There was another attack by the creature last night. It matches the description of what Merlin and I encountered in the forest, but this time it killed three people on the road to Camelot. I will not allow that beast to take any more lives, so I'm taking a party out to hunt it down. Of course, Merlin's too weak to come, so I'll have to find a replacement servant-"
"I'm coming." Sam interrupted without thinking. He nearly slapped himself upside the head for acting so automatically, but he couldn't stop himself. It was like something inside of him instinctively rose up – an insatiable desire to be by the prince's side – to protect him.
"Merlin, you were injured just the other day." He argued weakly, but there was a flicker of something akin to hope in his eyes … as if he would be happier with his servant following him along. "But, if Gaius thinks you're up to it-" Arthur looked towards the physician for an answer.
"Ah… uh … well … "Gaius sputtered, "Physically, his wounds are superficial and healing well –"
"I'm fine." Sam butted in, again without any forethought, but it was the truth. He felt much better and maybe Merlin's magic had something to do with that. Besides, Arthur was on the hunt for some kind of supernatural creature and Sam, as a hunter, was probably the most qualified person in the room for such a gig. "You'll need me."
Arthur gave him an odd look and Sam figured it was because his voice still had to have a strange accent to the prince's ears. However, Arthur didn't comment on it and instead, looked to Gaius for his opinion.
Gaius threw up his hands, defeated and exasperated, "Well it seems my medical opinion has been cancelled out by stubbornness once again. He may go, Sire, but he should try to take things easier than usual."
Arthur just nodded, but his eyes showed his relief and appreciation. He then turned his attention towards Sam, "We leave in two hours. You'll need to get our horses ready and prepare enough supplies for a few days." Arthur spun on his heel and made for the door only to stop and turn back around, "Oh, and Merlin ... If you're late, you'll be the one I'm hunting, got it?"
Without another word, the prince turned and left the physician's chambers.
Gaius sank down in his chair, "Oh dear. This is not good."
"Yeah … that pretty much sums it up."
OoOoOoOo
Merlin gaped. There was just so much to choose from.
"Just pick out some snacks while I get the coffee." Dean had said when they first entered the brightly lit, and somewhat overwhelming establishment called a 'convenience store'.
But how could he possibly decide? First off, he had no idea what was even inside all of those colorful packages and second of all, he wasn't certain that any of it actually qualified as food. He must have stood there looking like an idiot for an eternity because Dean came back and grumbled something about Merlin needing to close his mouth and pick something already.
"I don't know what any of this stuff is." Merlin protested.
Dean sighed and grabbed a couple of yellow bags off the shelf and tossed it towards Merlin. Still a little uncoordinated in Sam's larger hands, he fumbled with the bags, "What's this?"
"M&Ms. The perfect brain food." Dean then shoved a cup into Merlin's other hand, "And coffee makes it breakfast. C'mon, let's check out and get back to work."
Following Dean through the store towards a counter, Merlin stopped in his tracks at the sight of the woman behind it. Now … the young warlock had seen some strange sights in his time and met some interesting people and he really should have been prepared to encounter strange people in this time-period, but this woman was unlike any he had seen before.
She wore what seemed to be just enough clothing to keep her from being naked. Her black shirt, if one could call it that, was held up only by a couple of thin straps and dipped low – very low – to reveal her ample cleavage. She wore no skirt, which in and of itself wasn't too strange to Merlin as he had seen women like Gwen and Morgana wear men's pants before, but this woman's choice in bottoms showed off her bare legs from toes all the way up to the bottom of her backside, leaving very little to the imagination.
Her clothing was only the beginning of her strange appearance though. Her hair was cropped almost as short as Dean's with spikes sticking out from the top of her head in a bright, unnatural purple color. Her face heavily made up to make her appearance almost a ghastly white with pure black coal lining her eyes and lips painted in almost the same shade of purple as her hair. Merlin's attention was also drawn to the many piercings she had adorning her face; one in the side of her nose, one over an eyebrow and a multitude of them traveling up the sides of her ears.
Her arms too were decorated with colorful designs and pictures. Merlin had seen tattoos only a few times before on the wrists of Druids, but this woman was literally covered in them from finger tips to shoulders. There was barely any skin on her arms that wasn't marked in some way.
Merlin couldn't help the step he took back. He didn't want to admit it, but she scared him.
"Dude … what's your problem now?" Dean asked as Merlin stopped and pulled the older man back.
Merlin lowered his voice, "Dean … do you think that woman might be one of those demons you spoke of?"
Dean stared at Merlin for a beat, then broke out into a short laugh, "Her?" He asked, hitching his thumb towards the woman, "C'mon, man … she's just a goth or a punk or something like that."
Merlin was still unsure – the woman felt … off. It wasn't just her outward appearance that sent warning bells off in his head. He wouldn't be able explain it to Dean, but just being near her made his skin crawl and sent electric shivers up his spine. It was almost like how it felt when his magic warned him of danger, but Merlin knew that couldn't be possible since Sam didn't have magic. Yet still …
"Here … I'll prove it to ya." Dean turned and walked confidently to the counter. The woman just stood there unimpressed as he approached and laid their purchases down.
"That'll be $8.47." She said as if bored out of her mind after punching some buttons on a strange, beeping, box-like contraption.
Dean reached into his back pocket and grabbed his wallet, opening it up to pull out a green piece of paper which he handed to the woman. Still feeling uneasy, Merlin pushed aside his confusion over the exchange and the fact that the older man was paying with a worthless piece of paper and instead held his breath.
After Dean handed over the paper, he coughed into his hand, "Christo."
Something in the air changed in that very instant. The woman stopped, her hand hovering over the money as she looked up sharply. Merlin gasped as he saw her eyes blink from a vibrant blue to a hate-filled, opaque black that covered even the whites of her eyes. She grinned malevolently.
Taken off-guard, Dean stumbled backwards, "Oh crap."
OoOoOoOoOo
"How do I sound now?" Sam asked the old man.
"I think you've just about got it."
Sam and Gaius had spent the last fifteen minutes getting the spell Kilgarrah had given him to make him sound like Merlin to take hold correctly. Being untrained in magic made the trial and error process rather frustrating, but finally, it seemed to be working.
"How long do you think this will last?" Sam asked.
"I couldn't say, but hopefully you shouldn't have to repeat it. I'd hate for you to have to explain to Arthur why your voice suddenly sounds like a frog's if you get it wrong again." Gaius pointed out, referring to one of the failed attempts at the spell. The old man was still upset with Sam for volunteering to go on the hunt with Arthur, but he seemed resigned to the fact that he was powerless to stop him from going and was determined to help him pull this off.
In the hour since Arthur had left the chambers and informed them of the hunt, the two men talked and worked out several things. First, they discussed the fact that Sam wasn't Merlin. Surprisingly, Gaius took this all in stride, explaining how Merlin gets himself into these kinds of jams on a regular basis. He didn't even seem all that disturbed by the fact that Sam was from the future or from an entirely different continent, explaining how he had come to expect unexpected things when it came to his ward. It seemed that Merlin's life was much like Sam's; there was almost always something dangerous or supernatural to be up against. And also like Sam, there really wasn't any way for him to escape this kind of life.
The also discussed the possible causes for Sam and Merlin's little switcheroo. Sam described the crystal he had touched in the storeroom and the physician claimed to know of it. However, he believed the rock to be locked away somewhere under the castle in what he called 'the vaults'. Gaius stated that the vaults were heavily guarded, but he believed he could come up with an excuse for him to gain access to the crystal while Sam was off with Arthur hunting down the creature. Sam wasn't completely comfortable with the old man taking on such a risk, but Gaius insisted that it was the least he could do to get Merlin home again.
Next, they worked out a plan to keep Sam's identity a secret which basically involved the voice spell and Sam getting a crash course in dealing with Arthur. Gaius explained what duties he was expected to perform and how Merlin interacted with the prince. Sam didn't think he'd have too much trouble when it came to hanging around Arthur as he and Merlin's relationship sounded an awful lot like Sam and Dean's.
The bulk of this conversation occurred after Sam was ordered to eat a full meal to make up for the blood-loss Merlin had suffered. All the while, the old physician rubbed some vile smelling concoction over his wounds. The stuff might have smelled like something pulled out of a sewer, but Sam had to admit that it worked well and numbed up his entire chest so that he barely felt a thing.
At last, having eaten enough for Gaius' peace of mind and sounding like a native, Sam was ready to go.
Sam turned to leave the physician's chambers, but was stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist, "Merl – Sam … remember, you must protect Merlin's secret at all costs. You may not know any spells, but Merlin's magic is instinctual and if you run into trouble, the magic will want to react. However, you must not let it overpower you, especially around Arthur."
"I know, Gaius. I'll try." Sam agreed, feeling a weird wave of affection for the old man, "Thanks for everything."
Gaius pointed a finger at Sam's chest, "Just make sure that you apply the ointment I gave you every few hours and eat something regularly, especially if you feel dizzy or faint." Sam smiled at the physician's mother-henning. It reminded him of Dean. "Oh … and one more thing. Do take care of yourself and try to stay out of harm's way. The boy complains enough when he's well that I wouldn't want him to return to a body that's any further injured. I'd probably never hear the end of it."
Sam nodded and clasped Gaius on the shoulder quickly to assure him that he'd be fine and then he was off, stepping out as 'Merlin' and assuming the role of manservant to the prince.
First, Sam headed for the kitchens. Gaius had shown him a map of the castle and where to find everything, but the place was enormous and each corridor looked almost identical to the next. Pretty soon he was hopelessly lost.
"Excuse me." He stopped a passing, dark-haired woman in servant's clothing who greeted him with a bright smile. "Am I any where near the kitchens?"
"What?" She asked, a laugh in her voice. She must have thought he was joking."You know where the kitchens are, Merlin."
Sam tried to laugh it off. "Oh well ... sure. Of course I know. I was ... uh ... was just trying out a short cut and got a little turned around. That's all." God ... Sam didn't think he had ever lied so badly in his entire life.
The young woman eyes him critically with the deep concern of a close friend. Sam wished he knew her name. "Are you sure you're alright? I heard you had been hurt."
"Oh yeah. I'm fine."
"Except you can't seem to remember your way to the kitchen." She pointed out patently.
Sam felt himself blush a little sheepishly. "Okay ... maybe getting knocked around a bit has made me kinda confused."
Taking Sam gently by the arm, the maid began pulling him down the hall, "C'mon, Merlin. I'll take you. I'm heading that direction anyway."
Sam thanked the young woman once they reached the kitchens and learned her name was Gwen when the cook greeted her warmly. At first Sam didn't make the connection, but as she left the room, it clicked. Gwen? As in Queen Gwenivere? She didn't look like a queen or noble in any way, but then again, nothing in this version of Camelot was anything like he had learned from various legends. He didn't really have time to ponder any further on the servant girl though; he had a mountain of things needing to get done.
Now that he had found the kitchen, getting the food wasn't too hard. Except for the verbal tongue-lashing he received from the rotund woman running the kitchen about ordering so much food on short notice, he was able to leave with a sack full of provisions. However, even with that task completed, he still needed to gather the weapons, ready the horses, and help the prince get into his armor all within the next 30 minutes before it was time to leave.
Weighed down with the sack of food, Sam made his way to the stables and dropped off the provisions with the stable hand. Thankfully, a boy cleaning out the stalls offered to get the horses ready for him, stating that he owed him for cleaning out the stables a few days ago for the boy. Sam was more than glad for the help since he really didn't have much, or really any, experience with saddling them.
As he rushed off to complete his next task, Sam was amazed by how many people around the castle were like the stable boy and seemed to genuinely like Merlin. Every corner he turned, he was greeted with friendly smiles and waves. It warmed him a little to see such kindness in others - it was something that he wished there was more of in the 21st century.
Freed from readying the horses, Sam headed for the armory, mentally following the map of the palace Gaius had shown him and hoping this time that he wouldn't get lost. He was more worried however, that what he needed for the hunt wouldn't be there. From the description Gaius had given of the creature that had attacked, Sam had concluded that they were most likely dealing with a black dog or something equivalent to one. Unfortunately, the only thing he'd ever used to kill a black dog was a silver bullet to the heart which was a big problem considering that guns hadn't been invented yet.
Silver blades or arrowheads might do the trick, but as Sam searched the armory, he found that all of the weapons were made of steel. He'd have to figure something out, but where was Sam to find silver weapons?
He slapped his forehead.
Duh … he was the manservant to the prince, wasn't he? The rich noble might have a silver blade in his rooms. He was supposed to help the prince get ready anyway, he'd just have see if Arthur had such a weapon while he was there.
After pulling a couple of crossbows and quivers from the shelves that would be expected for the hunt, Sam headed for the prince's chambers. He got a little lost a couple of times once again, but eventually he found the right door and knocked.
"Enter." He heard the prince respond, sounding a little annoyed.
Sam opened the door and carefully walked in, feeling a little awkward coming into Arthur's private bedroom while the prince was half-dressed.
Arthur looked up, somewhat surprised and pausing in his struggles to get into a thick, padded tunic, "Merlin! Since when do you knock?"
"Uh … sorry?" Sam winced, wondering if he was screwing up pretending to be Merlin already.
"Never mind, Merlin. Just get over here and help me with this damned thing. Where the hell have you been anyway? You should have been here an hour ago to get me into my armor."
Sam couldn't help but feel a little miffed at Arthur's treatment. How did the prince expect him to get food, weapons, and horses ready and get him dressed at the same time? Sam felt like biting his tongue, but then remembered Gaius' words: 'Arthur and Merlin have an interesting relationship, to say the least. Merlin isn't afraid to speak his mind, and secretly, I believe Arthur appreciates his bluntness, even when Merlin calls him a 'prat' or 'dollophead'.'
Well … if the prince liked blunt, then he'd give him blunt. Thinking about how he would respond if Arthur were his brother, Sam came back with, "I was busy getting everything ready like you ordered. I'm not Superman, ya know."
"Super? Man? What the hell are you prattling on about?" Arthur scoffed.
Sam winced again at his slip and tried to shrug it off, "Uh, you know. He's a man that's … um … super and can do … super things."
The prince stared at Sam with a blank expression, before replying glibly with an incredulous shake of his head, "You're such an idiot. That's the stupidest thing I think I've ever heard come out of your mouth and that's saying something."
Sam somehow managed to get Arthur into his armor even as the prince fumed over how slow and clumsy he was. Sam didn't think he did too bad considering the fact that he's never put armor on another guy before, but Arthur seemed irritated, claiming it to be sloppy and demanding Sam adjust it according to his precise specifications.
"Good heavens, Merlin. You sure you're up to coming along? You're even more useless than you normally are. Maybe you should just stay here with Gaius this time and recover a little further." Arthur griped once he was finally satisfied with his armor. Even though Sam didn't know Arthur all that well, he knew that the prince's indifferent attitude thinly veiled an undercurrent of concern for his servant.
Sam allowed himself to roll his eyes behind Arthur's back, "I'm fine, " he claimed, feeling that odd desire to be glued to Arthur's side resurface again. "I'm coming with, so you're just going to have to put up with me."
"Fine, but you better shape up. We wouldn't want you screwing everything up or getting yourself killed just because you aren't up to your usual level of incompetence, now would we?" Arthur came back with
Sam let the insult roll off of him. In fact, it brought a tiny grin to his face as it the bantering felt familiar, almost like the kind he and Dean exchanged on a daily basis.
Arthur held out his hand expectantly and waggled his fingers, "Well?"
"Well what?" Sam asked, wondering what the prince wanted now.
"My sword, Merlin."
"What about it?"
Arthur sighed, rolled his eyes and let his shoulders sag, "Give it to me, you idiot."
"Oh …" Sam reached for the weapon lying on the bed in its sheath and handed it to the prince who grabbed it with a huff and strapped it on himself.
Arthur shook his head again and mumbled, "This is going to be a long day."
Striding for the door regally, Arthur exited the room with the incognito hunter following behind. But, once he was in the hallway, Sam realized that he had completely forgotten what he had come to the prince's chambers for in the first place. He still needed a silver knife.
"Oops," He said as he stopped and turned around, heading back towards the room.
"Where are you going?"
"I forgot something."
"Merlin!"
"Be right back."
"I'm not waiting for you, you know." The prince called out impatiently, striding down the corridor and away from his servant as if this was normal for him to be so absentminded. "If you're not on your horse in five minutes, I'm leaving without you."
Giving out a little sigh of relief to be free from Arthur for a moment, Sam went back into the room and searched, finding several knives. All of them were made of steel, save for one that looked rather old and tarnished. It was dull, but it would have to do. Slipping the knife into his boot, Sam hurried for the door only to stop once more when he spied a shield propped up against the wall. He really had forgotten something.
Quickly grabbing the shield, Sam took off at a gangly sprint, wondering if this was what life was really like for Merlin on a daily basis, because if it was, he felt truly sorry for the guy.
OoOoOoOoOo
"Oh crap!"
The black-eyed girl sneered and Merlin agreed with Dean's sentiment wholeheartedly, feeling lost and unbelievably frightened without his magic to fall back on.
Dean reached reflexively into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wicked looking, wooden-handled knife. Unfortunately, the demon behind the counter was faster and raised her hand, sending a wave of power in Merlin and Dean's directions.
Merlin felt his feet leave the floor as he flew backwards into a wire rack full of bagged snacks with an almighty crash. Dean was thrown back as well, the knife in his hand skittering across the floor. Trying to extricate himself from the rack he was tangled in, Merlin found that he could barely move, as if something was pushing him down.
The demon girl spoke as she came around the counter with her hand outstretched, using some kind of magic to keep the two men pinned to the floor and helpless. She strolled across the room towards them and then stood haughtily over Dean. "Well , well, well … Dean and Sam Winchester … fancy meeting you guys here, it must be my lucky day. Crowley sent a whole army of us out to take on jobs at gas stations all across the country thinking that you morons would show up at one eventually, but I never figured I'd actually be the one to run into you. You know, this was only supposed to be a recon mission, but I don't think the boss would mind a little Q and A session."
"Go to hell, bitch!" Dean spat out, equally pinned to the floor and frustrated by his powerlessness against the demon as Merlin.
"Not before you tell me where you're hiding that little prophet of yours."
Merlin didn't have a clue what the two were talking about, but he did know that he was only inches away from the knife Dean had dropped. If he could only reach it …
Dean growled at the demon, but refused to answer her.
Merlin could only move his fingers, but he was so close.
"Cat got your tongue, Dean? That's okay. I've always got Sammy over there to beat the answers I need out."
Merlin's fingers brushed against the knife at about the same time that the woman straddled him and wrapped her fingers around his throat.
The fingers squeezed and the air to Merlin's lungs was cut off.
"Leave him alone!" Dean shouted.
The demon applied more pressure with impossible strength, causing Merlin's face to turn a deep shade of purple. "Tell me where the kid is!"
Merlin lost touch with the knife, fighting to breathe as he choked and wheezed. He tried to fight back, to raise his hands to his throat, but they were paralyzed, cemented to the floor. He could feel blood rushing in his ears, his heart pounding in a desperate attempt to keep him alive. Forgetting for a moment that he wasn't in his rightful body, he instinctively reached for the well of magic he had relied on all his life. There was no response, creating a panic within him so strong that even if wasn't currently being throttled, he wouldn't have been able to breathe.
Dean was yelling, but his voice was growing distant like he was sinking underwater and drowning. He was slipping, losing strength, his vision dimming and turning hazy.
"Fleoge!" A voice shouted, cutting through Merlin's fading thoughts.
All in one moment, Merlin's throat was freed and the pressure disappeared while the woman sitting on top of him screamed. Immediately, he gasped hungrily for air through his abused throat, too relieved to still be alive to question how he had been saved. His vision was still fuzzy and filled with black spots, but it cleared just enough for him to see the knife that had just been out of his reach was now embedded to the hilt in the chest of the demon. She fell sideways, her mouth open and eyes wide while lightning bolts of golden power radiated around the blade.
She landed in a heap near Merlin's legs, eyes wide open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.
As his sight improved further and he found he could breathe easier, the powerless warlock turned his head towards Dean. Still sprawled out on the floor, Sam's older brother was staring at something just behind Merlin's back. Swiveling his head, Merlin's eyes soon found what Dean was staring at.
Just inside the entrance to the store stood a grey-haired man with a long, white beard that reached to his chest. His hand lowered slowly as his eyes faded from a bright, glowing gold to a dark shade of blue.
Merlin gulped, recognizing the man instantly.
This. Is. Not. Possible.
The old man walked with a slight hunch as he hobbled towards the stunned young man. He then bowed down a little to speak to Merlin as he lay on the floor, a mischievous, yet kind smile growing on his face.
"Well, well, well … looks like we've gotten into a spot of trouble again. Haven't we, Merlin?"
To Be Continued ...