**REVISED WITH NEW ADDITIONS**
The Wanderer
by BynWho
Summary: Marian Ragnell, a Wanderer, falls through time only to find herself in a land of knights, dragons, and Magic. She faces the daily grind of life in King Arthur's court, having to adjust to a different time with different rules. Joined by Merlin and the Knights of the Round Table of legend, Marian embarks on fantastic adventures while navigating true love. Can she thwart a history that has already been told and save the life of the King? Will she give in to her feelings for Sir Gwaine, a roguish knight who won't stay away? Can he save her from herself?
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfic for entertainment purposes only. All characters and plots from the BBC show Merlin belong to the BBC. All other characters and plots belong to BynWho. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: I am finally reposting The Wanderer after a heavy overhaul. There are many new scenes and subplots. I plan on posting new chapters on Thursdays until all 31 are up. I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to leave a review!
Beginnings
Dark clouds rolled in as a figure approached the stone altar, the animal in the sack on her shoulder writhing. Her breath was quick and labored, and her brow was damp with sweat. She dropped the bag onto the ground, with no care for the poor creature inside, and opened it, revealing a young unicorn. The beast tried to stand, but the ropes binding its legs proved too much. The woman's bright blue eyes darted from the unicorn to the glass knife lying on the altar, and a wicked smile crept across her face as she lifted the creature, placing it next to the blade.
Resigned to its fate, the unicorn didn't cry out or protest. It seemed to pity the woman. The Keeper of the Unicorns had warned her that killing a unicorn would bring terrible consequences. But who was he to proclaim her fate, anyway? She was a High Priestess of the Old Religion! The magic would bend to her will!
Drops of rain clinked onto the glass blade as she grasped it in her hand. Running the sharp edge across her palm, the woman squeezed her hand, and her blood flowed down her fingers into a stone bowl. With the knife raised over the unicorn, she plunged the blade deep into the heart of the beast and cried out in an unearthly language. Holding the knife over the stone bowl, she watched as the dark blood of the unicorn dripped from the end of the blade and mixed with her own. As thunder clapped in the distance, the woman incanted an ancient and unholy spell, her eyes glowing gold.
The wind picked up as she fell to the ground, spent. The hair on the back of her neck stood, and she could feel the tingle of magic through her entire being. She looked to the sky, and she knew. The spell had worked. Uther's foil would be brought to Camelot. Nimueh knew then that she would finally have her revenge.
Marian was walking in a field, the sun shining, and the wind blowing her honey hair behind her. The bell sleeves of the embroidered lavender dress she wore caught on the wheat as she passed by, her fingers caressing the tips of the amber grain. It was peaceful. It was silent. She stretched her neck and followed the warm light in the sky as if she were a sunflower. She breathed in the clean, fresh air and sighed in contentment.
The sound of hoofbeats cut through the peace and she turned toward it. She held her hand up to shade her eyes against the sun as a horse galloped toward her. The beast was beautiful, white that was almost silver, with a long mane of waves that fell past its head.
In the saddle sat her knight in shining armor. His red cloak, adorned with a yellow dragon, drifted in the wind behind him, and his armor, newly polished, reflected the sunlight. Two ribbons, green and white, adorned his upper arm. He was tall and handsome, with his dark brown hair whipping around his face in the wind. He had a neatly trimmed beard, and when he smiled, oh, what a beautiful smile! His teeth shone bright and white, and his warm, brown eyes sparkled at her.
"Hello, beautiful," he greeted with a slight Irish accent.
Marian Ragnell opened her eyes, rubbing the sleep out with the heel of her palms. It was that damn dream again, the one she'd had since she was a child. The details were fuzzy and she could never remember the man's face, but it always left her feeling peaceful and content—even loved.
She knew it was only a dream. No knight in shining armor would come to save her. There were no castles, no kings and queens, and no love. As a child, she played Camelot, as she called it, complete with knights and wizards and dragons. She recreated the famous tales from books her father had thought inappropriate for a young girl, becoming Merlin the magician. Or the Lady of the Lake, giving the magic sword Excalibur to King Arthur. Or her favorite, pretending to be Dame Ragnelle, the Loathly Lady who married Sir Gwaine.
The alarm on her phone buzzed the Mahna Mahna song from the Muppet Show amplified by the wood of her bedside table. It'd been a joke—her ex, Joey, changing her alarm tone. There was no lead-in, no soft build-up. The intro blasted in full force before the muppets started their parts. Joey thought it was funny when she'd sit straight up in bed, scared half to death. She was starting to hate that song but never remembered to change it.
She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, desperate to go back to sleep, to see him again. The man who only had eyes for her. The man who'd called her beautiful.
Mahna Mahna
Doo doo da doo do
Mahna Mahna
Doo doo de do
"Alright, alright," she said, her voice muffled in the pillow. "I'm up." She reached her hand out to press the button for the alarm to stop, but her phone was on the edge of the table. As soon as her fingers touched it, it fell to the floor, vibrating its way under the bed. "Goddammit."
She dragged herself out of bed and to the bathroom for a shower. "Come on. You can do this. Get it together. One more day, then Halloween and candy." She climbed into the shower and let the hot water run down her body. "Jesus, you're talking to yourself now. Probably the first sign you're going nuts." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this."
At twenty-four years old and newly single, Marian was going nowhere and doing nothing. An office temp wasn't the career she'd envisioned all those years ago as a bright-eyed, naïve freshman in college. The history department had just started offering a medieval studies degree, and she signed up without a second thought.
"A lot of good that did me," she mumbled as bath soap washed down her body and to the shower drain. "What the fuck am I doing?" she grabbed the shampoo and squirted a small amount onto her head. "Wasting your life, that's what."
She'd just moved to a new town, having escaped her abusive ex, and applied to every job in the area listed online. Unfortunately, the only company that bit was the accounting firm. She knew jack all about accounting and she was miserable. It wasn't the best life. It wasn't even a good life, but she was surviving.
Marian stepped out of the shower and dried off, frustrated with the turn her thoughts had taken.
"Think of the good, Marian," she said. "There's… a chance for a new life. That's good." She winced as she looked up in the mirror over the sink. The bruise Joey had left on her face when she ran into him the week before was fading. "Escaping that asshole. That's two good things." She blew out an irritated breath. "There's got to be more."
After she brushed her teeth, she pulled out the concealer and foundation she bought to cover the mark. It wouldn't do to explain the bruise to people she'd only known for a month. Dressed in a modest button-down top and slacks, she slipped her shoes on and looked in the mirror one last time. With no time to dry her hair, she made her way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast of black coffee and half a pop tart.
"Shit!" she exclaimed as she looked at the time, her mouth full of her overly sweet breakfast. She tucked her phone into her pocket and reached for her keys when a spark of static zapped her fingers. "What the hell?" she said, sucking on her pained finger.
As she reached again, she received another shock, and the hair on the back of her neck stood while chills went down her spine. She felt a sharp tug on her body and doubled over as the draw became a pull. It seemed as though her insides were being rearranged, and an unbearable pressure was building inside her head. Her ears hurt and wouldn't pop. When trying to steady herself by reaching out to the table, Marian was suddenly engulfed in a blinding light, which took away her breath. She couldn't hear anything or even see her surroundings, and a feeling of weightlessness and coldness washed over her.
She panicked as the swirl and the pull and the pain went on and on. And as quickly as it had started, it stopped, leaving her on her hands and knees. The pressure in her head built to an agonizing level, and she screamed louder and harder than she ever had before. When she ran out of breath, she fell to the ground, unconscious.
A cloaked figure lurked in the shadows and watched as Marian appeared with a crack. It wasn't what she'd expected from her spell, but Nimueh supposed the Fates knew what was best. She looked forward to seeing how this young woman would thwart the King of Camelot.
"Really, Merlin! Don't be such a girl!"
"You try carrying all these dead animals on your horse, bleeding all over your good trousers, and see how you like it!"
Arthur chuckled as Merlin complained. It was a small amount of blood and was harmless. It's not like Merlin's clothes were fine garments. "Seriously, I've never heard so much whinging about a little blood."
Prince Arthur had fancied going on a hunt when he woke up that morning and dragged his reluctant servant with him. Why he ever invited Merlin to go was beyond him. Merlin had his usefulness, especially when cleaning and polishing armor, but he was clumsy and loud on a hunt. Arthur supposed that having Merlin there to carry his quarry was worth it if it meant that his clothes didn't get stained with blood.
Merlin looked up after raindrops fell on his head. "Looks like a storm is coming. We should probably—" A scream not too far away interrupted him. "What was that?"
"Someone in trouble," Arthur replied as he kicked his horse into a run.
"Of course it is," Merlin sighed as he followed.
When Arthur came to a halt, he climbed from his horse and bent down while waving Merlin over. A woman was lying on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. Arthur rolled her over on her back and patted her cheek to wake her up. "She's out cold."
"Who is she?"
"I don't know. She's dressed oddly, though."
"Arthur, look at her face."
Blonde hair was matted to her bruised face with sweat, and blood dripped from her nose.
"We'd better get her to Gaius, then." Arthur lifted the woman and settled her over the front of his horse. They took off to Camelot just as the rain began to pour.
Gwaine was only trying to hunt, not get involved in business that wasn't his. He'd been making his way through Camelot for two days, traveling south to Nemeth—he'd heard there was good drink and gambling to be had at the border.
He relied on gambling to make his way in the world. Sure, he was skilled with a sword, but more often than not, helping farmers and peasants against dangerous creatures, both natural and supernatural, led to more trouble than coin.
It wasn't his fault women found him irresistible. he would never bed another man's woman, of course, but sometimes the women yet to be married were a welcomed distraction from his beleaguered existence. After an incredibly close call with a woman who fancied him and the sword of her angry father, Gwaine swore off going to the aid of others… and wooing farmers' daughters.
It wasn't like his heart had ever belonged to anyone. He had no friends, no family, and no sweetheart. His life lacked love and affection and friendship. It lacked purpose.
So, drinking his way from tavern to tavern and gambling to pay for the drink, Gwaine continued his unfulfilling and lonely life as a hot head, a rogue, a scoundrel.
As he lifted his bow and nocked an arrow, focusing on a fat—and probably delicious—rabbit, he heard a woman cry out not far from where he stood.
"Damn," he swore as his supper bolted.
He shoved the arrow into his quiver and ran in the direction of the scream. Despite his vow to mind his own business, he couldn't ignore a damsel in distress.
When he reached a small clearing, he hid in the brush, assessing the situation before blindly running in—a first for the temperamental rogue.
He saw a woman lying prone on the ground, but no one else. There was nothing to explain her cry—no weapons, no beasts.
Just as he decided to come out of the brush, two men rode up and stopped next to the woman. He studied them, trying to determine if they were a danger or not. She was dressed as a man in trousers and a tunic, possibly trying to escape a dreadful fate, an unwanted marriage, or forced servitude.
He retreated into the brush and took cover behind a tree when he saw a man dressed in fine clothing dismount.
"Nobles," he sighed as the man crouched beside the woman. He hated nobles even more than farmers with buxom daughters.
The noble's companion—no, his servant by the looks of it—leapt down and knelt beside her as his master turned her limp body over.
Though she was bleeding and bruised, her face was peaceful, almost angelic. Her chest moved up and down as she breathed deeply.
Satisfied she was still alive, he watched as the noble picked her up—ready to come to her aid if need be. The conversation was hard to hear, but he made out the servant asking who she was and the noble saying he wasn't sure.
Gwaine slinked back into the thick of the brush and watched as they rode away in the pouring rain, relieved the woman seemed to be safe.
"Now, where's that rabbit?"
Marian slowly drifted back to consciousness. Her head felt like it was full of large, dense rocks. Large, dense rocks that were being pounded by sledgehammers. Large, dense rocks that were being pounded by sledgehammers and then ground into dust by loud machines. It seemed more unbearable than any hangover she'd experienced, which made her wonder what had caused it in the first place.
A pungent smell whirled in the surrounding air, and she scrunched her face in disgust. Musty and mossy and overpowering, it was nothing like she had ever smelled before. She opened her eyes to an elderly man hovering over her, waving a small jar under her nose.
"What the hell?" she asked, trying to push his hand away from her face.
The man set the jar down and leaned in closer—almost too close—to examine her.
"Hey, could you back up?" she asked, irritated by the way he stared at her.
"Do you know your name?"
"I…" she started. Her brain had come to a halt. Try as she might, the words wouldn't come out of her mouth. "What?"
"Your name?"
Blinking a moment to gather her wits, she eventually answered. "Marian. I'm Marian Ragnell. Who are you and… and where am I?"
"You were brought to the palace. I'm Gaius, the court physician," he said, his accent strong. He had white hair to his shoulders, and he was wearing—was that a dress?
"Gaius," she repeated. "Wait, palace?"
"Yes, this is the palace."
"Am I in the UK? What the hell? How did you get me on a plane without me knowing?" She glared at him as she sat up. Suddenly, her eyes widened in panic. "Oh, my god! Did you drug me? That's a felony, you know. You'll get arrested, extradited even. What the fuck do you want with me, anyway? I'll tell you right now that you won't get a ransom. You've taken the wrong woman, buster!"
Gaius let her finish, amused at her ramblings as he tried to understand her speech. Nothing about her made sense. Her accent, her words. Even her clothing was odd. The woman was obviously not a noblewoman—what noble would speak with such… candor? But she also wasn't a peasant from one of the outlying villages or a servant. She was well fed, and her hands were soft—there was no evidence of hard labor anywhere on her.
"Where are you from?" Gaius asked.
"Well, you should know! You're the one who kidnapped me!"
Without warning, the door opened and a young man with dark hair burst into the room. "Gaius, is she awake yet?"
"See for yourself," Gaius said, turning to her. "Marian, this is Merlin."
"Merlin?" she scoffed. "Like the wizard? Is that some sort of code name? Are you with the CIA? Or whatever it's called here? MI6?"
Merlin paled. "How did you…?"
Gaius looked from Merlin to Marian in surprise, his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. Merlin's magic was a closely guarded secret. Only Gaius and Merlin's mother knew about it. Gaius was determined to find out what this strange woman knew and, more importantly, how she knew it.
"And who are you supposed to be? King Arthur? I guess that's better than 007. But you should really get better aliases." She rubbed her temples. The headache was getting worse. "So, is this supposed to be Camelot or something? Deep underground in your secret hideout?"
"I am not Prince Arthur. As I told you, I am Gaius. And yes, this is Camelot. Did you not know?"
"Am I being punked? Is this a TV studio then? Seriously, where am I?"
"Tee vee?" Merlin asked, his head cocked to the side.
"No, dear girl. This is Camelot. Here, go see for yourself," Gaius said as he gestured to the window.
She carefully rose from the cot. Her legs felt like jelly as she walked to see what was outside.
"Now, tell me of this wizard," Gaius said.
"Merlin, the wizard in King Arthur's court. Old man… with a long… beard…" she trailed off as she looked out at the city below.
There were small wooden buildings, and a market was set up along a cobblestone street. The people milling about looked as if they'd just stepped out of a Renaissance fair. Horses trotted on the roads, and children ran after each other, playing. Beyond the city were some of the most beautiful landscapes she had ever seen. A thick forest covered most of the terrain and the sky was clear and bluer than she'd ever seen it.
A large flock of birds flew over the castle like a cloud of smoke, swirling effortlessly through the air, perfectly in sync, squawking and calling to each other. That's when it hit her. It was impossibly quiet. There were none of the sounds she was used to. No planes overhead, no cars. Only the birds and the noise of the crowd below.
It was too elaborate for a prank. No one would go to this much trouble just to fool her. No, something was off. She sensed it in the air. Marian felt lost. Her heart raced—pounding so hard she was sure it would burst from her chest—her throat tightened, and her breath came in quick, shallow puffs. She turned to Gaius, dizzy and unsteady, and her vision began to blur.
"This isn't possible… oh fuck…" she barely had enough time to say it before her eyes rolled back and she started to go down.
Despite his lanky frame, Merlin rushed forward, easily catching her before she hit the floor, and laid her on the cot. "Gaius, what do we do?"
Gaius picked up the jar of smelling salts and held it under her nose.
Marian's eyes flew open, and she jolted upright. "Oh my god! I'm… I…" She couldn't even finish the thought. She had traveled back in time, she was sure of it. "What's the date?"
Merlin shook his head and laughed. "It's the day after the Feast of Beltane."
"No, I mean, what year is it?"
"You don't know?" Gaius asked.
"I… I was just in two thousand eighteen. And this can't be two thousand eighteen. We don't have cities like that." She pointed to the window behind her. "And there's no noise or cars or planes. And the sky, it's too blue. Where's the smog?" She drew a deep breath. "There's no place called Camelot. That's just a story. And the Queen of England is definitely not called Arthur. I mean, that's where I am, right? In England?" Merlin and Gaius exchanged a worried look. "You know, the United Kingdom?"
"Albion?" Gaius spoke up.
"Albion… that's… that's an ancient name. Oh shit. Ancient. It can't be. This can't be Camelot."
"And yet you are indeed in Camelot," Gaius said, arching an eyebrow.
She looked between them as skittish as a trapped wild animal. "And you're Merlin? The wizard?"
"I'm Merlin, yes. But…" he looked to Gaius for help.
"Marian, magic is outlawed in Camelot. If King Uther or even the prince were to find out that Merlin has magic, it would mean his death."
She blanched. "Uther? Uther is still king? Does that mean Arthur is—wait, you said magic? It's real? There's really magic?"
"Yes, and it's forbidden in Camelot."
"And you're real? This isn't a dream? Merlin is real?"
"I like to think so," Merlin said, grinning at her.
"Sorry," she said, looking down at her lap as another thought occurred. "Aren't you supposed to be old?"
Merlin chuckled. "I'll get there, eventually."
"Look, I don't want to cause trouble. I won't say anything, I promise. I just…" She sighed, trying to figure out how to ask without sounding demanding or pushy. "I want to understand where I am and how I'm here. I need to find out why. Can you help me?"
"I will do everything I can," Gaius replied, placing his hand over hers. "We will find the answers, Marian."
"Where are you from, anyway?" Merlin asked.
"America. It's west of here, on the other side of the ocean. You won't have heard about it."
"Nobody's going to believe it. There's nothing that far away. At least, I didn't think there was."
"The world is much bigger than you can imagine, Merlin," she said, smiling.
"Can you tell me about it?"
"That can wait, don't you think?" Gaius asked. "Marian, can you lie?"
"Er… maybe. I don't know. Maybe."
"And be convincing?"
"I think so."
"Do you have family?"
"Some. I don't speak to my parents. And everyone else is dead…"
"You don't—didn't live with your parents then?" Merlin asked.
She laughed. "No, not since I was eighteen. I got out of there as soon as I was an adult."
"What happened?"
"Nothing. They were just… they were distant, unhappy. They hated each other, and they made me miserable."
"And no one cared you weren't married and living on your own? You're not married, right?"
She shuddered at the thought. "No, thank god."
"Well," Gaius said, "when someone asks where you are from or about your family, tell them you're from beyond the Great Seas of Meredor and that you haven't spoken to your family in a long time."
"And if they ask why?"
"Just tell them you were unhappy," Merlin replied.
"Right," she nodded. "I'm from beyond the Giant Seas—"
"Great Seas."
"Beyond the Great Seas of Merry Dorf."
"Meredor."
"Merry Door."
"Close enough."
"And I was unhappy living with my family, so I left? That's it? That's the lie?"
"Just don't give anyone too much information, and you will be alright," Gaius said. "I'll need to do some research. I've never heard of someone falling back through time."
"Am I safe here?" she asked them.
Merlin frowned. "Of course. Why wouldn't you be?"
"I'm a woman. Aren't women property or something? Like I don't get a say, I have to rely on a man to run my life?"
"You will be safe in Camelot, Marian," Gaius said, smiling gently at her. "Why don't you sup with us tonight, and we'll get your clothes and lodgings sorted in the morning?"
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Gaius."
The next morning Marian was sitting at the table in the physician's chambers, eating breakfast while Merlin recounted how he became Prince Arthur's manservant.
"Can you believe it? The king thought that me waiting hand and foot on some spoiled bully would be a reward?"
"Merlin, there are many who would give their right arm for a position in the palace," Gaius said.
Chuckling at them, she suddenly had a startling thought. "Merlin, you said that you and Arthur found me? Isn't he going to think I have magic if we tell him I'm from the future? I mean, we have to, don't we?"
"We won't tell him. The less he knows, the better. We can say you were left for dead by bandits. They kidnapped you at the Port of Gedref after you arrived."
"I'm going to have to get used to lying my ass off, aren't I?"
Gaius shook his head, his expression grave. "Marian, you can never tell anyone. Especially someone connected to Uther. It will, I'm afraid, have to be a secret. Merlin and I are the only ones who can know."
"Right. I can do that. What will I do about clothes? And food? And shelter? I don't have any money, no way to pay for anything."
Gaius rose from the table and collected their dishes. "I've been thinking about that. I will purchase some appropriate attire for you." she opened her mouth to protest, but he held his hand up. "You can work the debt off."
"How? I'm not cleaning chamber pots. I draw the line at that. I'll starve first."
Gaius rolled his eyes. "If you're going to survive, Marian, you will have to get over any aversions to perfectly natural bodily functions."
"What did you do for… you know… before?" Merlin asked. "Did you have a servant?"
"No servants. Water flushed the… uh, perfectly natural bodily functions into a sewer."
"That sounds much better than cleaning chamber pots. Don't you think, Gaius?"
It was ridiculous how people of the future could be so squeamish about something that happens to everyone, but Gaius kept his thoughts on the matter to himself. "Marian, how do you feel about the healing arts?"
"I know a little, I guess. The chapter from my medieval studies books didn't elaborate too much."
"Pardon?"
"Sorry. I don't know much, to be honest."
"What's mid-evil?" Merlin asked.
"Medieval. It's what we call this time period. It means Middle Ages, another term we use for the Dark Ages."
"Dark?" Merlin asked. "Do people in the future not know we have a sun?"
She chuckled. "Not dark as in darkness. It's called that because of the lack of scientific knowledge and progress."
Gaius bristled and went over to his worktable. "I think we do well enough," he said, his voice clipped. "I'm a man of science. I try to explain the unexplainable as best I can."
Embarrassed, she turned red when she realized what she'd said. "I'm sorry, Gaius. I didn't mean to be rude. I don't think you lack knowledge at all. You know about magic, something we don't have where I'm from. We just have more people who study science, so they can get a lot more done at once. There's only a wider understanding in my time because we can easily communicate with cultures all across the world. That's all I meant."
Gaius perked up and forgot he was irritated, wanting to hear more. "So many cultures? All around the world?"
Marian got up to look at the different vials on Gaius's worktable. "Most of them, yeah. I wish I could show you. There are so many religions and superstitions, and the men and women of science are always discovering new things. Deep-sea creatures that are bigger than a house. How fast light can travel. They've discovered the tiny particles that make up everything from the air to the human body. Germs that cause sickness. Hell, there were even men who walked on the moon."
Gaius sat down abruptly. "I'd never even imagined such things."
"All of that and no magic?" Merlin asked.
She shook her head. "No magic."
"I can see why they call us dark," Gaius said, still thinking about men walking on the moon.
"It certainly isn't meant as an insult. I'm sorry, Gaius."
He nodded and stood. "So it's settled then. You can apprentice with me."
"I really am useless, Gaius. I don't think I'll be able to keep up."
"My dear girl, if Merlin can learn, then you certainly can."
"Hey!"
She covered her mouth as she chuckled.
"Now, you will accompany me to see the king. We will need permission for you to begin," Gaius said once she'd sobered.
"Uther? I… are you sure I have to be there? I've never met a king before, and I'll probably screw it up."
"As long as you keep quiet and don't reveal your past, you should be alright. Uther is paranoid, and there will be nothing for it should he suspect anything is amiss."
"No pressure, then," she said under her breath.
"Merlin, can you take Marian to see Gwen?" Gaius asked, ignoring her. "I've sent word that our guest will need proper clothes."
"I'll need to take Arthur his breakfast first."
"Then you had better get to it. After, we can clear out that old storage room just down the corridor. It's small, but there's a fireplace, so it should do for a bedchamber."
"Thank you, Gaius. For everything," she said as she gave him a peck on the cheek.
Gaius smiled and nodded. Of course, he wanted to help her survive, but the thought of figuring out how Marian was able to travel through time was nearly overwhelming. As a man of science, Gaius was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Marian Ragnell.
Marian rubbed her sweaty hands down the sides of her trousers. She wasn't normally an anxious person but her nerves were shot, what with traveling through time and the ever present threat of being found out. As Merlin raised his hand to knock on the wooden door, she took several deep breaths to calm herself and smiled when the door opened to a beautiful young woman.
"Merlin, I've been expecting you," the woman said with a soft smile. She moved to the side, giving room for Merlin and Marian to enter. "Hi, I'm Guinevere. You can call me Gwen," she said as she held her hand out to Marian.
Startled, Marian grasped Gwen's hand but forgot to shake it. "Guinevere? Really?" she asked, her heart pounding.
Did she really meet the Guinevere? The queen destined to run off with Camelot's bravest knight? Marian had always thought Guinevere was a noblewoman from another kingdom. But Gwen was a servant, a seamstress, normal.
"Yes… Is it a problem?"
Marian realized she was still holding Gwen's hand and still not shaking it. She released it and blushed. "No. It… It's a beautiful name."
"Thank you, I think."
"I'm sorry, Gwen. I didn't mean… I'm not from around here, so your name sounds different to me." So she could lie after all. "I'm Marian."
"Hello, Marian. Your name is beautiful as well," Gwen smiled.
"Gaius wanted me to ask if you have anything Marian can borrow today?" Merlin cut in to ease the awkwardness. "She's to see the king about becoming a healer apprentice."
"Well, it won't be a fine dress, but I think I have something that will do."
Gwen looked at Marian, studying her form, and decided that she was close enough to her height and build that one of her dresses should do nicely. She was about to fetch one of her spare dresses when she heard Marian speak up.
"That's too bad."
"I'm sorry?"
"It's just… well, I want to give a good impression to the king, and your dress is so pretty… I'd just hoped I could… never mind. I'm being rude again."
"Are you making fun of me?"
"What? No!" Marian was mortified. Her verbal vomiting just wouldn't stop. "You have all of that fancy embroidery," she said as she pointed toward Gwen's dress. "I just meant it was too bad I can't show up in something fine like what you're wearing, to impress the king. But whatever you have, I'm sure it's better than this," she said, gesturing down at her modern clothes.
"Fine? You think mydress is fine?" Gwen laughed in disbelief and looked over at Merlin to make sure she'd heard her correctly.
"Gwen is the maid to Uther's ward, the Lady Morgana," Merlin explained. "Her dress is typical for a servant in the palace."
Marian paled at the mention of Morgana, also known as Morgan le Fey in Arthurian legends. An evil witch said to have been the undoing of Arthur.
Fuck.
Marian wavered slightly and reached out to Merlin to steady herself. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes to push away the dizziness.
"Are you alright?" Gwen asked. She poured Marian a cup of water as Merlin pulled a chair out from the table. "Sit here and sip this. It'll help."
"Thank you. Sorry, I don't know what happened," Marian said, slowly sipping.
Merlin bent down and looked into her eyes. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he'd seen Gaius look into the eyes of some of his patients when examining them. Everything looked alright to him, though. He shrugged and stood. "You're probably still overtired from your journey."
"I'll go get that dress for you to try on," Gwen said before she went behind a screen.
"Merlin," Marian whispered. "I can't do this. I know who Morgana is. I know who Guinevere is. How can I keep all this a secret?"
"I understand keeping a secret is hard, Marian, but you have to try. If Uther even suspects you aren't who you say you are…" he rolled his eyes back and stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth, the universal, and apparently timeless, gesture for death.
Marian chuckled and smiled softly. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
When Gwen came back into the room, Merlin moved to the door. "I need to get back to polishing Arthur's armor. Will you two be alright?"
Marian nodded as Gwen spoke up, "Yes, I will see that Marian gets back to the castle."
Merlin nodded his thanks and left.
"Now," Gwen said as she turned back to Marian, "Gaius said you came to Camelot with nothing, so I've gathered some essentials for you." She picked up a small cloth sack and handed it to Marian. "There are a few chemises, socks, a couple of corsets, birch sticks and chalk, and some cloth for your monthly cycles."
Marian took the sack and looked inside. Gwen's kindness touched her.
"Marian? Are you alright?" Gwen asked when she spotted unshed tears in her eyes.
"Sorry, you'll have to forgive me, Gwen. I just feel so out of place and friendless. So lost. And you're being so kind, even after I insulted you."
"You didn't insult me. It was just a misunderstanding," Gwen said as she sat next to her. "Are you far from your home, then?"
Marian nodded, unable to speak for fear of blubbering all over Gwen.
"Your family, are they close by or…?"
Marian shook her head, again, afraid of losing her composure. For the first time since she'd come back in time, she realized that she was truly alone. Merlin and Gaius, and now Gwen, were kind to her. But she doubted they'd want to take on the emotional baggage of an orphan with no one to call family. Would she even be an orphan since her parents wouldn't have been born for more than a millennium?
"Well," Gwen said, laying her hand on Marian's arm. "I know we've just met, but I have a good feeling about you, Marian. It's something my father says, like I have some sort of sixth sense. Not magic, though. I don't have magic. I can just tell you're going to be alright. You have family here now. In Camelot."
She looked up at Gwen in surprise. Gwen was so gentle and big-hearted. She definitely liked this version of Guinevere better than anything she'd read.
"Not that I mean you'll never see them again. I don't. You might see them. Your family, I mean. If that's what you want. I'm not suggesting I could ever take their place. I just mean we're here for you."
A wide grin broke across Marian's face. "Thank you, Gwen. That means the world to me."
"It's nothing. I'm just glad I can help a friend."
Marian changed into the dress Gwen had given to her. It was pale lavender with small flowers embroidered on the bodice and a skirt that touched the ground. Gwen brushed Marian's hair and swept it up at the back of her head, held up by pins. She felt like she belonged. Well, she felt less conspicuous anyway. The pair were walking through the city toward the citadel when they bumped into Arthur, quite literally. Marian stumbled forward and reached out to brace herself on Arthur's arm to keep from falling.
Gwen cleared her throat and smiled when Arthur looked her way. "This is Marian, Your Highness."
Marian's eyes widened when she realized her hand was on the prince's arm. And not just any prince. The prince. Arthur, the Once and Future King. "You're Arthur? Oh shit, I'm sorry, your highness!" She winced. "Fuck! Sorry! Shit! I keep saying it! Dammit!"
Arthur watched Marian as she fidgeted. She was bruised, foul-mouthed, and odd but she seemed genuine enough. Besides, it looked as if Gwen liked her and though Gwen was Morgana's maid, he trusted her judgment. "It's alright, Marian," he laughed. "I'm just glad to see that you're well." With a smirk on his face, he turned back to the citadel and motioned for them to walk with him. "I was coming down this way to introduce myself but I hardly need to now." His face turned serious. "Are you in trouble?"
Marian couldn't stop staring at Arthur. He was a lot younger than in the legends and he had an air about him, like he was better than everyone else. She supposed that came with being the heir to the throne but there was also kindness in his eyes.
Gwen cleared her throat and nudged her gently.
Knocked out of her stupor, Marian's face grew hot with embarrassment. "I certainly hope not. I really didn't see you and I'd never have steadied myself if I'd have known—"
Arthur laughed. "No, I mean were you running away?"
"Running away from what?"
"When we found you in the forest. It looked like you'd been out there for a while."
"Oh! That! Yes, um… I was kidnapped at the Port at… um… Gallr… er, Goo… Ged…red…" she trailed off, trying to remember her cover and failing abysmally.
"Gedref?"
"Yes! Gedref. I was taken to… er, from Gedref."
"From Gedref? Right," Arthur said as he arched an eyebrow. "Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'm sure Merlin can take care of it."
As Arthur turned back to head to the stables, Marian called after him. "Thank you!"
Without turning around, he acknowledged her thanks with a wave. Gwen looked at her in disbelief.
"What?" Marian asked.
Gwen grinned. "You certainly made an impression."
"That bad, huh?"
"No. No, not terrible. But…"
"But what?"
Gwen shook her head and laughed. "Usually, he would have had you in the stocks." All of a sudden, her face fell, and she touched Marian's arm. "I mean, not that I think you belong there. I don't," she added quickly. "It's just that he's not usually that forgiving."
"I guess he knows a train wreck when he sees it."
"A what?"
Marian's eyes widened as she realized her mistake a little too late to stop it. "I…uh… It just means a mess. I'm a mess." She was nervous as she laughed. "I don't know how I'm going to get through an audience with the king."
"You'll do fine, Marian. Just follow Gaius's lead. And don't say anything other than yes, sire and no, sire."
"Thank you, Gwen," she smiled.
"You're welcome." Gwen hooked her arm through Marian's as they walked up to the palace. "I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends, Marian."
Marian was released from the stocks that evening. She shook off remnants of rotting tomatoes and pieces of wilted cabbage, grumbling. "Sexist piece of crap king." She winced when she watched a gooey piece of rancid tomato slide from her borrowed dress. "Fuck."
She met Merlin in the lower town as she made her way back to the palace. "Gaius told me you were in the stocks. What happened?" Merlin asked as he handed her a rag and tried to stifle his laughter.
"My mouth. Oh, Merlin, I don't like Uther. He's such an ass!" she replied as she pulled a small piece of carrot from inside her ear.
"Don't let the guards catch you saying that. You'll be back in the stocks before you know it."
"Apparently, the healing arts is not an appropriate occupation for a woman," she said, imitating Uther. "Rather than an apprenticeship with the court physician, I would be more suited to working in the kitchens! As if!"
"I take it women can do more than cooking and cleaning where you come from?"
"You bet we can. We can do any job a man can do. Even joining the army and going into combat."
"That sounds wonderful, actually. To be able to choose your destiny."
"Well, it's not really that easy. We still have people, like Arthur, who have anything and everything before they're even born. And then some people have to work three times as hard just to have a chance to make it."
Merlin's shoulders slumped. "Like me."
She smiled at him and touched his arm. "No one is like you, Merlin."
He smiled back before changing the subject. "So exactly why did Uther put you in the stocks?"
"I may have been a bit forceful with my language when Uther suggested I work in the kitchens."
"What do you mean by forceful?"
"I may have suggested that his parents never married."
When they returned to the physician's chambers, Marian and Merlin found Arthur waiting there on his own with his back turned to the door. He picked up a vial from the worktable and sniffed. Nearly gagging at the smell, he put it down and knocked several empty glasses over, one falling to the floor and shattering. He looked around for something to sweep the mess up, but instead, kicked the broken glass under the table and turned to the door.
"There you are, Merlin! I've had half the castle looking for you!"
"Sorry, sire. I was fetching Marian from the stocks."
Arthur looked over at her and felt the smallest amount of pity for her as a chunk of mushy potato fell from her hair. "Right. Marian. Gaius is speaking to my father, trying to convince him to let you apprentice in court but you must be careful from now on. While I don't mind your… coarse language, my father is the king, and he deserves respect."
"You are, of course, right, Your Graciousness," she said as she curtseyed low and started to topple over. Merlin reached over and righted her before she fell on the floor.
Arthur walked over to them, laughing. "It's just Arthur. Unless we're in public, then it's sire," he said as he held his hand out.
She grasped his hand, ready to shake it, as any man would do, or so she thought. Arthur pulled his hand away and held it out again but this time, he took her hand and placed it on his forearm rather than his palm. He held her arm in return and shook it once.
"This is how we come to an understanding. My word is my bond, Marian. If you promise to learn our customs, I can promise to protect you from my father's temper."
Marian looked at the hand on her arm as Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, promised to protect her, a nobody from nowhere. Overwhelmed, she blinked back tears and stared up at him, her smile brightening.
"You have my word, Arthur," she said as she shook his arm once.
Merlin shook his head as he watched Arthur and Marian. While Arthur rarely had patience with him, Marian was definitely different. He wasn't sure if it was because of the sad state they found her in or that she was so incredibly different from other people in their time. Merlin could tell that Arthur also sensed something great in her.
Marian's knowledge of the future was bound to help him protect Arthur. The Great Dragon had said that Arthur was his destiny, but Merlin was afraid of doing everything alone. Maybe he wouldn't have to because he was no longer alone. Maybe she was his destiny as well.
"Great! Now that's settled," Arthur said as he clapped Merlin hard on the back. "Merlin, I need you to wash my tunic, clean my boots, pick up my room, muck out my stable, feed my horse…"