Chapter 15

Wæfrees Sweoloþ

Disclaimer: I do not own either Danny Phantom or Merlin

Percival frowned as he cleaned his sword, sending a curious glance across at Gwaine. He was sure – not that he'd asked – that everyone in the room had felt something awe striking when Arthur had finished his announcement. Even still the words swam around in his mind and left a pleasant buzzing feeling beneath his skin.

Brotherhood of the Round Table

The very name struck a chord inside him, ringing alongside fabled groups like the Ancient Kings and their ilk. Of course, he wouldn't dare to believe they were on that same level, names like that lasted forever and he couldn't believe that he'd ever be a part of something like that. He was a man from a small village, he had watched his family die in front of him and had dedicated his life ever since to making sure that no one would feel that helpless as he had felt in that moment. He didn't care for riches or fame, he only wanted the people he cared for safe, and that was enough for him. But still...

Brotherhood of the Round Table

It was a title of acceptance, a promise that no matter what, the Brotherhood would stand by each other until the very end. It was more than he'd ever hoped for since losing first his family, and then Lancelot. He had a family now, people that not only he could defend, but would have his back in return. Arthur really had a way of turning the world on its head.

The rustling of chainmail beside him distracted him from his musings and he turned to send a half annoyed glare at Gwaine. The man had been fidgeting since halfway through the meeting, but it had progressed to the point where the dark haired man wouldn't stop his movements.

"Gwaine," Percival suggested "Stop fidgeting, people are looking."

"I can't." The man replied tersely "It itches."

"What?" Percival asked, raising an eyebrow at the man. "You've slept in every lice ridden tavern this side of the White Mountains and you're complaining about itchy armour?"

Gwaine bit his lip and very carefully sat down, seemingly cowed. But a minute later the fidgeting started again and Percival fought the urge to slap himself on the head. Gwaine never did have good impulse control. Instead he turned his attention to the growing pre-tournament crowd. Arthur had had them all up at the crack of dawn for their meeting, making for a very long day given the fact that there was still a tournament and a treaty talk to continue into the early evening.

Fortunately the talks were winding down, and the tournament had progressed into the final stages. All the knights in the newly formed Brotherhood were competing today, as were about ten knights from the visiting kingdoms. Queen Annis' knights had all been knocked out, as had those of King Alined and King Raegan, but those were kingdoms who relied on the vast numbers in their armies rather than individual skill so it made sense.

Percival looked back down, rubbing the last bit of excess oil off his sword before settling down beside a Camelot Red tent. The kings and queens were already gathering up in the top box, today was the last day of the tournament, but he had heard Arthur and king Rodor discussing a presentation match between the various kings and their champions. Percival was just looking forward to getting the whole thing finished with; tournaments were more Gwaine's thing than his.

His eyes flitted across the grounds, taking in as much detail as he could. The stands filling with knights now, creating a spattering of colour as the defeated stayed on to cheer on their remaining champions. Camelot Red moved down through the stand, and Percival watched on as Leon crossed the grounds to come and stand with the other Camelot knights. Behind him trailed Danny, carrying Leon's shield and an extra sword, looking squirey enough to pass as a proper squire. Blue eyes lifted briefly, flickering briefly in his direction before passing onto Gwaine with a half flicker of a smile on his face.

Percival looked back towards Gwaine who was now trying to subtly scratch his back by rocking around the edge of a mace, and failing spectacularly at the 'subtle' aspect... and the scratching aspect too if the look of irritation in his brown eyes was anything to go by. The man's lip was twitching in discomfort as he tried to stop the apparent itching. Percival glanced back towards Danny, who by now had set down the shield and was watching Gwaine with a look of absolute mischief in his eyes.

Percival grunted as he stood up, walking across the small distance towards the younger boy. "What'd you do?" He asked, quietly enough that only Danny could hear.

"Nothing much." The boy replied. "But of course, I'm not one to let the cat out of the bag myself."

Percival frowned at the emphasis; Danny implied that he'd caught onto their planned prank from the day before. But there hadn't been anyone around... "How did you?"

"One of the reasons Merlin doesn't mind being a servant is that you can go anywhere and still be invisible. There's so many interesting things to learn when nobody pays you any attention." Danny smirked at him, a wicked grin planted on his face as the boy picked up Elyan's sword and drifted off towards the sea of Camelot tents. "But Percival," Danny paused, his eyes sparkling an odd shade of blue-green in the sunlight "if you and Sir Gwaine wanted to start a prank war, you should have made a more subtle first move. Be ready."

And then the boy was gone, leaving Percival barely able to restrain a shiver at the strange chill in the boy's voice. It was light hearted and mischievous, yes, but somehow Danny managed to seem just a little bit threatening when he talked like that. Of course, the threat of an imminent prank aimed his way was nothing to look forward to, but he was sure that once Gwaine realised Danny had pulled something over him the rogue would happily retaliate in full force... although, the thought of getting caught between the two wasn't an appealing thought either.

Deciding to put those sorts of musings aside for the time being, Percival shook himself back to the present. Leon was heading into the tourney ground, armed with a sword and a shield. His opponent was the dark clad knight, Kilian from Daobeth. Percival absently rubbed his arm; that sword was wickedly sharp and the cut he had taken on the first day was still determinedly present.

Percival watched as the two opponents bowed, Leon demonstrating every inch of his noble heritage as the scarlet cloak fell regally around him. Kilian, however, bent over only shallowly, pressing the advantage as soon as he straightened. The black robed knight moved fast, Leon catching his blow with a sharp clash of steel as their swords collided. Leon spun away, using the momentum to power a swing to Kilian's open side.

Kilian seemed to smirk as their swords collided, catching Leon's sword at a jarring angle and driving both opponents briefly away from each other. Percival frowned, slightly worried at the strange glimmer in the man's eyes. Kilian was violent in his battles, lacking the finesse the other knights used in demonstration matches like this. Of course, he could be reading more into it than was necessary, but as the brunette pressed forward with an almost deadly blow Percival couldn't help feeling a little alarmed.

The black knight's sword flickered wickedly close to Leon's eyes, and there was a tense pause as Percival watched a single lock of Leon's curly brown hair tumble slowly to the ground. The crowd seemed to breathe in; stunned at the danger the match seemed to take on. Leon however stayed focused, his next blow landing true and driving the knight back a step, then another.

Kilian was losing ground, and Percival managed to steady his heartbeat as Leon recovered against his opponent. Steel clashed against steel as the black robed knight attempted a steady defence, but Leon was faster, forcing his opponent further and further backwards across the tourney ground.

The black knight twisted and dodged, leaping out of Leon's way as the red clad knight pressed a strike towards his torso, but the movement drove him right up against the arena wall. Leon followed up quickly, using the momentary distraction to relieve the dark knight of his weapon and pin him to the wall. Both knights panted heavily as Leon's sword tip pressed lightly into Kilian's exposed neck.

"Do you yield?" Leon asked, his voice carrying slightly breathlessly across the tourney ground.

Kilian nodded tightly, sufficiently ending the match. Percival kept his eyes on the dark knight as he moved to pick up his sword. For a defeated knight he seemed nearly smug. It almost looked like he was smirking from beneath his greasy locks. Percival decided to ignore it, after all, it was the same look he'd seen on some of the younger Camelot knights, arrogant and certain that their loss was due to their opponent's luck and not their own lack of skill.

Usually those were the knights that never made it home.

Percival let out a long breath, moving into the shadow of a tent to escape the blinding angle of the sun. A green clad knight had entered the arena now, bowing and waving to the audience's appeal. Percival just shook his head at the spectacle, the tournament was admittedly entertaining, but after a week of 'friendly' competition it did become wearing. Much as he liked being a knight, he still was more used to battling bandits in the woods than fighting in a tournament.

A loud roar tore through the arena as a red cloaked knight stepped in. Percival fought to restrain a smile as Gwaine strode straight to the middle, arms raised in beckoning triumph as he went to meet his opponent. Gwaine was a crowd pleaser, of all the First Circle... Round Table... knights, it was Gwaine who always seemed to be able to entertain the citizens of Camelot. But perhaps it was because Percival had so often fought at the man's side that he caught the lingering tension in his friend's eyes. His back was just that bit too straight, his smile just a smidge too strained and Percival got the strange sense that the itch that Gwaine had complained about earlier had only gotten worse.

Gwaine bowed; his back stiff and his lips twitching as he greeted his opponent. Percival felt a glimmer of concern as he watched his friend, whatever Danny had done it was still affecting Gwaine now. The two knights straightened, swords brushing lightly against each other as red and green knights circled each other. Camelot's most exuberant knight against one of Nemeth's finest, but Gwaine had the handicap of whatever prank Danny had pulled. It was almost enough to make Percival regret planning to prank the younger boy earlier. Almost, but not enough.

It was the green cloaked knight that made the first move, thrusting forward like a serket sting. Gwaine span out of the way, his brown eyes glittering and a smile twitching on his lips before he flicked his sword at his opponent's heels. The Nemeth knight staggered, losing balance momentarily before recovering and striking forward once more. Gwaine parried lazily, although there was a strange tension in his muscles.

Percival's gaze sharpened as he noticed his friend's lips twitch once more, accompanying a slight tremor in his shield arm. The Nemeth knight didn't seem to notice, delivering a sharp blow that clanged loudly against Gwaine's shield. Gwaine shoved him off, forcing the green clad knight to back off to regain his balance. It was quick, the movement half hidden by his shield, but Percival could have sworn his friend used the distraction to scratch at his shield arm.

By then the green cloaked knight had recovered, his dark eyes sharpening as he found more of a challenge in Gwaine than he had no doubt been expecting. Gwaine managed to tame his face into a roguish smirk as he thrust forward before striking sideways, jarring the green knights shield hard enough that the man was forced to drop it. The piece of round metal was quickly pinned beneath Gwaine's boot and kicked out of the way, leaving the green knight with only his sword as defence.

Percival knew what was coming next, settling back as Gwaine tossed his own to the side, a wide grin on his face as he evened the playing field. The next strike was fast, a flash of silver as two swords met, twirling around each other before pulling away. Gwaine's good arm twitched abruptly, and Percival frowned as he noticed that the spasm lasted longer than before. It made him wonder once more exactly what it was Danny had done to his fellow knight.

Gwaine twirled his sword elaborately through the air, a tricky move that looked intimidating and distracted the other knight long enough, Percival noticed, so he could scratch madly just beneath his elbow. The Nemeth knight backed away, unable to slip through Gwaine's guard, and that was all it took for Gwaine to slip back through the man's defences. There was a loud clang as the green clad knight barely caught a blow, forced backwards as Gwaine delivered a quick succession of cuts and jabs, sending the sound of clashing steel ringing through the arena.

Just as Gwaine was about to deliver the closing blow he tensed, losing his momentum for the split instant it took for the Nemeth knight to recover and deliver a sharp thrust towards Gwaine's open side. But the Camelot knight was not about to be defeated, twirling easily out of the way and using the slight overstretch to slip through and deliver a light tap to the green clad knight's now open thigh. There were slight tremors shaking his skin now, and Percival noticed the loss of the light jocularity Gwaine usually fought with as he was forced to use every ounce of focus.

Gwaine's arm trembled, his sword slipping slightly between his fingers. It was only visible to someone who really knew the man's fighting style, but it was enough of a break for the Nemeth knight to once more recover and dart out of the man's way. Panting slightly the green cloaked knight lunged forward, an edge of desperation in his strike. Predictably Gwaine blocked it, still trembling slightly as he shoved the man back.

Percival watched his friend's jaw jerk in strain as he struggled to seize control once more. The brief pause gave Gwaine the barest instant to scratch at his arms, and he used the opportunity to rub furiously before returning to his offence. His sword thrust forward jerkily, twisting around his opponent's blade with a squeal of steel against steel. The Nemeth knight overbalanced, losing his grip on his sword as Gwaine pulled it out of the way. The sword twisted through the air before landing elegantly in Gwaine's waiting hand, managing to fool the audience that nothing was wrong.

A small smile flitted to Percival's lips as he watched, Gwaine's arm was wavering slightly as he held his own sword to the green knight's panting chest. There was a brief pause before the crowd burst into loud applause, realising that the match was over and Gwaine had won. Percival saw his friend let out a shaky breath, shaking his head slightly before handing his opponent his sword back. He took a brief moment to acknowledge the crowd before practically racing off, completely forgoing his usual round of crowd-pleasing exuberance.

Percival followed quickly behind, only barely noticing the blue – green – eyed mischief that danced on the face of Merlin's young ward. He followed his friend through the small city of tents, trailing behind the sounds of furious scratching before watching as the man tripped bodily into a horse's drinking trough. Gwaine sat up, blinking as the straw sodden water trickled down his face before focusing his attention back on Percival.

"Well." The brown haired man commented, completely soaked and sitting in a slurry of straw and horse spittle. "At least that stopped the itching."

Percival groaned. And this was supposed to be one of the knights of the Brotherhood of the Round Table.

Danny sighed, a smile on his lips as he leaned over the tourney ground fence and watching the matches progress. He had full out laughed at Gwaine's performance, sure the knight had won, but it was worth it to see him race out of the arena, scratching blindly against his arms as he struggled to remove the chainmail and shirt. He assumed, from the dulcet splashing noise that had accompanied the man's departure that his prank had turned out better than he had expected.

He was surprised by how much living with Gaius was actually teaching him. Some of the remedies the old man concocted were even more effective than medicine bought from a chemist. And his exposure to the raw materials that went into the remedies was teaching him things he'd never have learned back in Amity Park. Like when Gaius had him working on a salve with maple seeds he'd accidentally cut the pod wrong and stringy fibres had covered his hands, making everything they touched itch furiously; exactly like itching powder.

Gwaine had just given him an opportunity to use his newfound knowledge... the halfa had found it only too easy to sneak into the man's chambers and lace his red shirt with the maple seed itching powder, and the tincture of skullcap and valerian poured into his bedside waterglass had numbed Gwaine's senses long enough to delay the reaction until the perfect moment. And he hadn't even needed to rely on his ghost powers to pull it off.

A round of applause burst through the audience as another match came to an end, Danny joined in more out of politeness before turning away. Entertaining as it was to watch the tournament, he was supposed to be helping out in the armoury at the moment. He wove through the sea of tents, making his way towards one of the servant's entrances to the castle. Today was supposed to be the last day of the talks, and that meant that after the tournament the last of the politics would be played out. To Danny a lot of it was just weird, discussions about peace treaties and kingdom boundaries went way over his head but then he'd never been one for politics anyway.

He trailed his fingers absently against the cool wall of the castle. He'd been in Camelot now for almost three weeks, and it was strange just how quickly the time had passed by. He liked spending time with Merlin; the elder brunette got him in a way that nobody else he knew did and they'd spent many late nights talking about their various adventures. And the time he spent with the knights was always enjoyable, nothing like gym class at Casper High with Dash and his football bullies. Maybe it was the fact each of the knights had fought for their lives and for the people, but Danny found himself slipping into the lifestyle all too easily.

And maybe that was the problem. Staying here felt like home in a way that Amity Park hadn't for a long time. Amity was where he fought ghosts on a day to day basis. Amity was where he struggled to hide from his parents and drowned under all his missed schoolwork. Protecting Amity Park had become a chore, he knew he was doing good things for the city, but after three years of constant struggle he admitted privately that he had become jaded. Of course his friends and his sister were there, and occasionally he had Dani and Valerie for backup. But there was always a part of him that questioned if it was really enough.

With his secret, and his only half human status, he didn't fit in there anymore.

Danny shook his head, thinking about that sort of thing wasn't helpful. And the truth of the matter was that he needed to return regardless. It was a difficult endeavour in this time period, but he knew that his time here, no matter how wonderful, couldn't last forever.

He squared his shoulders, tracing his way through the armoury and picking up a spare chainmail shirt. He'd need to pick up a red shift and drop both off in Gwaine's room before the knight got back. He wasn't cruel enough to leave the guy in itching-powdered garb for too long. Unfortunately from where he was the shortest route to both destinations passed through the guest wing and he'd been hoping to avoid that area after the whole being turned into a cat debacle.

Still, there was little to be done unless he wanted to take his prank and turn it into a vicious prank war. If there was one thing he'd learned from his exploits with Vlad Masters, it was that it was actually possible to take a prank war too far. Who knew?

The women in the laundry smiled at him when he went to pick up another shift, offloading a couple of the other knights' cleaned clothes on him while he was there. Danny took the added load without complaint and quickly darted up a servant's staircase and towards the guest chambers. He walked quietly down the corridor, keeping out of the way of the visiting dignitaries like Merlin had instructed him to. He was about to leave when he paused, feeling something strange in the air by one of the chamber doors.

He quietly slunk across the corridor, standing just barely outside the door. He wasn't sure whether to be surprised to realise that it was King Eadric's chambers. There seemed to be a bright light slipping through the crack beneath the door. But more worrying than a strange light was the feeling of pulsating magic that vibrated through the wood. He may not have had much exposure to magic in his lifetime, but what he was feeling was closer to Merlin's magic than anything he knew. It was colder and significantly weaker, much closer to room temperature than Merlin's inferno, but the similarity was there.

And it was worrying.

The first thing he'd been told upon arrival in Camelot was that practicing magic was banned literally on pain of death. So whoever it was that was behind the door was taking a huge risk. That meant that it was very unlikely that it was good news for Camelot or King Arthur. Danny's first thought would have been Eadric himself, his grudge with the man's future self clouding his judgement. But Eadric would be caught up in the tournament right now, and the treaty talks were right after that so he couldn't be inside his chambers at the moment.

So the question was whether Eadric had a conspirator, or if the visiting king was himself being pulled into a trap. Normally Danny would have just turned intangible to check it out, but the corridor was too busy for him to risk it. And while he could, maybe, come up with some pretence for intruding on the King's chambers, he didn't like his chances of getting out unscathed. Not if there was an illicit magic user on the other side.

He bit his lip in worry, not knowing what to do. It was only the concerned glances of some of the other servants that had him moving on. There was nothing he could do for now, and it rankled to not assuage his curiosity. Clearly none of the other servants could sense the magic being worked in that room, not surprising given Merlin's reports of this time. Danny made his way to Gwaine's room and slipped inside easily. He took a minute to lay out the clean chainmail and shirt, and to freshen the water at the man's bedside table so there was no more of the skullcap and valerian tincture left.

Nodding himself he stepped out of the room, dropping off the other clothes for the remaining knights. He still didn't know what to do about the magic he'd felt, and he was not an expert in magic to make the decision. He needed to talk to Merlin.

Sir Kilian smirked as he strode through the busy corridors. His king's plans were quickly coming to fruition and it was only a matter of time before this travesty of a kingdom was brought to its knees. He fought down a sneer as one of the serving girls curtsied at him; he couldn't believe how foolishly trusting the citizens of Camelot were. By all reports, the kingdom had faced one magical threat after another. And yet they did nothing to minimise the danger, it was as though they were being purposefully ignorant of magic's potential. It was appalling.

But that was no matter; soon their blind ignorance would be a matter of memory. The now familiar doors of the council chambers opened before him, and he quickly moved to his liege's side. An infinitesimal nod to his king lit a dark smirk in Eadric's green eyes, and Kilian couldn't help the feeling of smugness that rose in the pits of his belly.

The tournament had been a useful distraction, allowing him a legitimate means to gather the materials he needed and to observe king Eadric's opposition. His participation had been limited by the fact that he was limited to using swordsmanship alone. His true skill as a warrior lay in his ability to mingle steel and magic into an unstoppable force. However gold-glowing eyes were an obvious sign that couldn't be risked for such a small gain, and this way his true strength lay hidden even still. Thusly Camelot had won the competition, mostly off the power of the commoner knights. It seemed that Arthur's first circle knights lived up to their reputation and they were indeed a powerful front when compared to the knights of the visiting kingdoms.

Powerful, yes, but certainly not a match for magic's might.

There was only one thing left to do before everything settled into place, and Kilian very much doubted that he would be refused. He was, after all, an expert in persuasion in such matters. He had been surprised at the beginning of the week when his king had clamoured over a young talent, squire to Arthur's commoner knights. However Kilian's own observations during the week only affirmed this view. The dark haired young man was definitely a skilled fighter, but more importantly, he had a spark of magic in his eyes. Doubtless the boy didn't even know, the only explanation for his continued presence in Camelot was that his powers had yet to manifest. But that only played to Kilian's advantage.

There was only one last meeting to sit through, and then the official ceremony where all the visiting dignitaries would sign the contract. This meeting was merely a formality, intended to ensure that the Camelot provided scribe had documented the specifics exactly as the various kings had agreed. Of course, ultimately this would come to nothing; King Eadric would arise from this the ruler of the ten kingdoms before spreading his empire out across all Albion. Yes, the time was drawing close and Kilian felt his eager anticipation drawing.

He scarcely listened to the waffle of the other Kings and their advisors, only noting the smug silence of his king by his side. As predicted the meeting was droll, the biggest problem coming from King Alined being excessively specific in the wording regarding his kingdom's takings. Even that passed quickly, and the treaty agreement was being carefully read over by all ten rulers.

The meeting let out, allowing for an hour recess before the final signing and a celebratory feast. Kilian used the opportunity to slink out. He had a dark haired boy to find and an offer to propose.

He found the boy two corridors down, standing just outside a room Kilian knew was used as a storage closet. It was perfect.

"It seems that our lieges have come to an accordance." He commented, his gaze fixed on the tightness in the boy's shoulders.

The boy nodded. "Yes, sir." He replied after a long moment, not quite meeting Kilian's eyes. "One would hope that this marks the beginning of a time of peace."

Kilian inwardly scoffed. "One would hope." He agreed aloud. "However one does wonder how long this can last. Of recent years the leadership of Camelot has been... fickle."

"I wouldn't really know." The boy answered. "I haven't been in the city all that long." Kilian frowned, noticing the boy's unfamiliar accent. However the shortness of his stay in Camelot was an advantage he was only too willing to press.

"It must be hard, then." Kilian commented. "Forging ties in such a turbulent kingdom."

"Not really." The boy dismissed with a shrug. "I hope you don't mind if I excuse myself, Sir Knight; I have work to be done."

"Kilian, please." Kilian corrected, laying a hand on the boy's shoulders. The boy flinched, trying to pull away but finding himself caught between the storeroom door and Kilian himself. "And I will have to borrow your attention for at least a few minutes more. What is your name, child?"

"What does it matter?" The boy asked, his blue eyes narrowing.

Kilian smiled. "I have seen you training with Camelot's finest. I rather like to know the names of the warriors I am soon to work aside. After all, once this treaty is in place the knights of Camelot are as good as the knights of Daobeth."

"Daniel." The boy replied grudgingly, pulling away from the wall as though he expected to leave. Kilian smirked, stopping him from pulling away.

"A strong name." Kilian commented, drawing closer to the boy. A careful twist of his hand had the storeroom door open, and a moment later Kilian had the boy cornered inside.

"What do you want from me?" The boy asked, glaring at him. And Kilian smirked at the heated glimmer in those blue eyes. He had seen it so many times before in young sorcerers just on the cusp of coming into their powers. At the boys age the magic was always so close to the surface, waiting for the right push to bring it bursting into the light.

"Behæpse fæst" Kilian murmured, feeling his eyes burn a satisfying shade of gold. The door behind him locked with an assuring click. The young boy was stuck in here until Kilian got what he wanted; the door would only open if magic was used to release it.

The boy's eyes widened and Kilian watched the quick parade of emotion that crossed Daniel's face, settling in disturbed anger. "You used magic." The boy accused.

"I did." Kilian replied smugly.

"But magic is banned in Camelot." Daniel pointed out.

"I know." Kilian grinned.

"Then why would you use magic in Camelot?" The boy asked, sounding confusedly exasperated. "Peace talks or not, Arthur would have you killed."

"I think the bigger question is why your first response is a warning, not a death threat." Kilian smirked. "After all, you squire to the knights of Camelot, and here I stand, breaking one of Camelot's strictest laws."

The boy didn't reply.

"You see..." Kilian pushed. "I suspect that you have seen magic used before, extensively. From your reaction I would hazard a guess that it is prominent and accepted... no, respected where you come from. I'd go so far as to say you want that to be so here as well."

The boy still stayed silent.

"But you know that so long as Arthur sits on the throne that can never be." Kilian continued "No scion of the Pendragon family could ever bring magic back to Camelot. Uther has damned this kingdom in that regard. And you, you sympathise with magic."

"What..." The boy ground out. The tinkling of magic in his eyes danced teasingly just below the surface and Kilian could almost taste it. "What do you want from me?"

Kilian smiled widely, showing his teeth. "You are an intriguing character, Daniel. What I want, what my king wants, is for you to come back to Daobeth with us."

The boy blinked. "What?!" Daniel demanded. "What possible reason do you have that would make me come with you?"

"You are already a strong fighter, Daniel." Kilian pressed. "I want to push you, forge you into the great warrior I know you want to be."

"I don't have to listen to this." Daniel spat, shoving past Kilian and tugging on the door. He tried the handle unsuccessfully, rattling angrily against the wooden doorframe before turning once more to face him. "Open the door." The boy imperiously demanded.

"No." Kilian replied simply.

"Why?" Daniel practically hissed.

Kilian smirked. "That would be the other reason why you should return with the envoy to Daobeth. You see, far from just being a magic sympathiser, Daniel, you are a sorcerer."

The boy blinked twice before breaking into a disbelieving laugh. "I'm not a sorcerer." He dismissed, shaking his head.

"'Aliese duru rýne'." Kilian said, not summoning his magic as he spoke the magic words.

"What was that?" The boy asked, his gaze angry.

"'Aliese duru rýne'." Kilian repeated. "It's the spell to open the door. If you are not a sorcerer then you have no fear in saying it."

Daniel gaped, looking at him with uncomprehending eyes. "You want me to say a magic spell."

"Yes." Kilian answered. "It will prove to you exactly why you cannot stay in Camelot."

"But I'm not a sorcerer." The boy emphasised. "I can't do magic spells, I'm not..."

"Then say the words." Kilian challenged. "Prove me wrong."

"It's not going to work. I can't do magic!" The boy spat between slitted teeth.

Kilian shrugged. "I have all the time in the world, Daniel. Eadric can proceed without me and the only way that door is going to open is if you open it."

The boy huffed, looking between him and the door. Kilian could practically see the thought process whirring through that dark haired head. "If I do this..." The boy eventually murmured. "When nothing happens, that's it. Right?"

Kilian quirked an eyebrow.

"I mean, you'll stop." Daniel clarified. "I'm not a sorcerer so nothing's gonna happen. So... you'll just stop. You don't need me to come with you and you'll let us out and we'll both just go our separate ways."

Kilian nodded vaguely. He was surprised by the boy's cautious questioning. It almost sounded like he expected to be denied. He would be, of course. Eadric had suggested this boy would be a good addition to their armies, which meant that there would be no leaving the boy behind. But he wasn't to know that now.

"If nothing happens I'll open the door and let you on your way." Kilian agreed.

Daniel frowned, as though sensing his deception. The boy's blue eyes studied him intensely for a long minute before he came to the sensible conclusion and gave a decisive nod. "Alright. I'll try."

"'Aliese duru rýne'." Kilian prompted, gesturing gently toward the door.

Daniel looked at him critically for one more minute before turning his attention back towards the locked door. He seemed to take a deep breath, focusing no doubt, on the shape of the words of the old religion.

"Aliese duru rýne." The boy murmured, and his blue eyes burned searing shade of almost green gold. Kilian smirked in success, watching the young boy's magic rise to the surface, unable to resist the siren call of words of the old religion. As the magic faded Kilian watched as Daniel's face morphed into a picture of horrified shock.

Behind Kilian's back the wooden door opened with an audible click.

AN: It feels like an age since I've last updated... probably because it has been. But this story has not been forgotten and I am perpetually tinkering, even if writer's block is a problem. So what really needs to be said is a huge thankyou to everyone who has read and reviewed (and given me a kick along) in the intervening months.

I will say to SnowMiko; You and I think very much alike. I don't really understand how going back in time automatically assumes concurrent timelines... that has never made sense to me; this is part of why there is no 'Back in Amity Park' in this story. (And that will remain as much of a mystery to all readers as it is to Danny while he's stuck in Camelot)

Translation;
Wæfrees Sweoloþ – Flickering Glow
Behæpse fæst – Fasten a closed door (from 'Sweet Dreams')
Aliese duru rýne – Open uninterrupted the door (from 'The Poisoned Chalice')

So this chapter started with a prank and finished with a cliffy, hopefully this means I can progress the story faster because pranks, really, they're not my thing and I found I just couldn't write it.

Oh well, I hope you enjoyed all the same.

Thanks for reading,

Bluerose