There is nothing worse than the knowledge that you are completely helpless to stop events that were about to take place. Knowing that you could not do anything to save the ones you loved and that it had been your fault that all of this had happened. There is no worse feeling than being helpless, except perhaps misery and hopelessness. Knowing that there is nothing you could do, no matter what you tried. You begin to wish that you could find some way to stop it, holding onto the tiny threads of hope but you soon fall into the pits of despair and realise that it's hopeless. There is no way that you can save them. Nothing you could do to stop them. That is exactly how Alethea felt.
After being blasted with a bolt of energy, Alethea had woken to find that Nimueh had bound her wrists and ankles together before tying her to a sturdy oak tree. She had been gagged and the knots were tied tight. There would be no way that Alethea could free herself, and she had been forced to watch on helplessly as Nimueh transformed herself into a mirror image of Alethea. The sorceress had then used her magic to open up a portal and return to Camelot to get her revenge. That had been a good few hours ago now. The portal had closed almost instantly after Nimueh had vanished and Alethea had spent ages trying to free herself. She couldn't shout for help, and even if she could she doubted anyone would hear her. After all, she was, quite literally, stuck in the middle of nowhere.
She achieved only sore wrists. Her arms were filled with stinging pains but Alethea could cope. She had suffered worse but it still hurt. Giving up, she let her tears in her eyes fall freely. All she had wanted was to get home. Had that been too much to ask? But she had simply changed her mind too late. At the last minute she had chosen to stay at Camelot for just a little longer but she had been dragged through the portal and had landed here, wherever here was. And that was when she had found Nimueh who had taken advantage of the situation and had left Alethea to suffer alone.
So now here she was, her tears having dried and her eyes sore, feeling miserable and rather sorry for herself. She had no idea if Camelot had yet fallen and if Nimueh had gotten her revenge. She didn't know if Arthur had found Nimueh, thought that she was Alethea and confessed his love for her. She didn't even know if Arthur was still alive. Thing is, Alethea had no idea what would be worse: Not knowing what was happening and having to guess, or knowing and not being able to do anything.
As the light began to dim and the sky turned a beautiful mixture of reds and golds, Alethea began to feel rather cold, but there was nothing that she could do about it. She had no choice but to freeze. It was then that she wondered what use Nimueh had for her. Would the sorceress leave her here to die? Or was she some ruse to trap Arthur? Would she be forgotten and left here for eternity? And would someone find her before it was too late? All these thoughts flooded her mind and she hoped that Arthur would not be too besotted to realise that the Alethea he loved was not stood before him, but was trapped. She hoped that Merlin could spot Nimueh from a mile away and point it out to Arthur before it was too late. She wished that the two of them together would be able to settle their differences and find a way to save Camelot, and if they could, her.
She began to wonder just exactly what Nimueh was playing at. Would she string Arthur along and then stab him in the back, Arthur thinking that it was the real Alethea? Would Nimueh manage to mimic Alethea exactly and so no one could find any differences? Would that be the cause of Camelot's downfall? Would it be because of her? And something then clicked in Alethea's brain. Nimueh had a reason for taking on Alethea's form rather than just going as herself. It wasn't only the perfect disguise, it meant that Alethea herself would be blamed. When Nimueh's plan had succeeded, Alethea would be freed but everyone would hate her for what she had done. No one would ever believe her story. They would be too busy despising her to listen.
So, if she couldn't free herself and could not do anything, Alethea felt well and truly helpless. She felt worse than one of those damsels in distress that were forever mentioned in fairytales. Where was her knight in shining armour? Currently being tricked by the evil witch. It was just typical that Alethea had to fall into a trap. She seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble. That much had been clear since the beginning of this tale. If she had taken another door into college then she wouldn't be here, although would that have meant that Arthur would be dead?
Yawning, she decided that now was not the time to get herself confused. She was too tired and her eyes felt heavy. Closing them, she hoped for a nice sleep and that when she woke she would be by Arthur's side in Camelot, having had too much to drink at the feast or even having collapsed at the tournament. She hoped that she would wake and find that it had all been a dream. No such luck.
She hadn't dreamed of much, just floated in eternal darkness and for once she was glad. She had an idea that if she did dream then she would have nightmares or, even worse, dream of times that she could never have. The sky was pink now, and the sun was rising somewhere in the east. Alethea had no idea if time here worked the same way as Camelot. If so, then Camelot would be waking up to a new day, possibly their last, or if time was different, then was Camelot already destroyed? She had no idea, though if it had been then Nimueh would surely have returned by now, wouldn't she?
Sore, Alethea could do nothing to ease her pain and instead looked around her. Nothing was different, nor was anything out of place. Everything was as it had been earlier. Her bag was near to her but tantalizingly out of reach, even if she did manage to free her hands, and her coat was thrown over it. That was one thing. How would Nimueh explain where her things were and how she had managed to get back through the portal? Alethea smiled. The sorceress was clever, but she could be forgetful at times. Perhaps that could save Camelot. One mistake on Nimueh's behalf and her whole plan could be ruined. Camelot had a chance yet, even if Alethea could not help them. Things were looking up.
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Merlin had hardly seen or spoken to Arthur since the forest. He couldn't bare to see his master so discontent and have his anger being taken out on him. Merlin didn't think he'd manage to hold his tongue and that could be potentially fatal. After all, if he let one thing slip about being able to do magic then his head would be on the block, or Arthur would blackmail him into finding Alethea and bringing her back. He had no intention of doing so. It had been hard enough sending her home, and he had accepted the fact that he couldn't change her mind when he had sent her through the portal. He had accepted that that would be the last time he saw her.
He couldn't stand having to face Arthur at the feast that evening and so had excused himself, claiming that he was ill. He was sure that Gaius knew he was pretending, but the old man didn't say anything. Merlin had spent the evening in his room, reading the book that Alethea had written for him. He had to smile as he got to the next chapter. Her handwriting was eligible enough, and Merlin smiled when he saw that she had even drawn little illustrations for him, even if they weren't the best. It was quite addictive, this book with all their tales of Arthur, Merlin and the knights of the Round Table, but Merlin could see why she had been reluctant to let him keep it. He knew if it fell into the wrong hands then more than one person would be punished.
He could barely sleep that night, and even when he did manage to drift off, he was tormented by images of the fall of Camelot and of Nimueh about to cast a final blow. Each time he closed his eyes he was taken back to that day just under two months ago where Camelot had nearly fallen and Alethea had almost lost his life. He had saved her, not Arthur, and he had received little thanks from the Prince. In fact, he had gotten the cold shoulder. They hadn't been on good terms for quite some time, ever since Merlin had confessed his feelings for her to Arthur. He knew that it was rivalry between them both for Alethea, but how could he protect Arthur if they weren't even speaking to each other?
As morning dawned, Merlin set about preparing breakfast to do Gaius a favour, and then sat down to eat.
"Are you alright Merlin?" The physician asked, sensing something was not right.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" the warlock said, trying to put on a brave face. It didn't work.
"You did the right thing yesterday."
"What do you mean?"
"Sending her home. Even if you didn't want to, you did what she asked."
"I wish she would have stayed though. Things aren't the same now."
"It was for the best. Anyway, I'd best be going on my rounds. Will you be alright?"
"Yes." Watching Gaius leave the room, Merlin looked to the window and smiled slightly, remembering just how Alethea had sat there on the night before her trial, taking in the sight and knowing that she would probably die. Merlin had done all that he could for her. He had cheered her up and looked after her, as she had done for him. They had been good friends with both of them having secrets that they could tell no one else. Alethea had been the only person who had understood him and had kept his magic a secret. Now she had gone, and Merlin was left with no one to understand him. He was alone again, just another outcast. He would never fit in, and he knew that. He just wished that he could somehow conform though, as every outcast wishes to.
He'd continued reading the book, smiling as he read about how Arthur had fallen in love with a beautiful girl called Guinevere and had asked Merlin for his opinion. Merlin had warned that it would cause trouble, but Arthur went ahead anyway. It seemed that the Prince would still be a prat when he was older. Typical. And speak of the Devil…
Merlin shut the book as he realised that Arthur was in the room and begrudgingly, the young servant got the prince ready for battle. He said nothing, and saw the look of despair in the Prince's eyes. Merlin wasn't the only person to have lost someone he loved, but he tried hard not to show it. He was good at hiding things, Arthur wasn't. It was just a shame that Gaius did not have a cure for a broken heart. Watching the prince leave, Merlin was in two minds as to whether he should go to the tournament or not. Deciding that he would go, he watched on as Arthur fought against a Sir Sagramore and winced as he saw Arthur nearly lose his head. He held his breath with the rest of the crowd as he thought that Arthur had been defeated. Had it been purposely? Had the Prince decided that he didn't care for the fight anymore?
And then Arthur had won. It had been a trick. Merlin sighed with relief and wondered if he should go to the celebratory feast that night. Toying with his conscience, Merlin decided to stay where he was. Arthur could manage without him, and besides, he wanted to find out what happened next in the book. Reading long into the night, he had no idea what had happened to Alethea, nor that Nimueh had returned. He hadn't even a clue that Arthur would pretty soon be in danger. He didn't even realise that the month ahead of him would be a rather hectic one either. He didn't have the sight, nor did he see the future. Perhaps if he did have these gifts then he would be able to see what was to come and stop them. He didn't, and that could cost Camelot it's downfall.
