Camelot

January, 504 AD

"Tyr!" I called the attention of a stable-hand with whom I've become acquainted as he walked past me on his way towards the stables while I was brushing the dark bay mare before our session for the day.

The chubby brunet stopped in his tracks and he turned to me with a grin, giving a courteous nod as he greeted, "Good morning, Lady Astraea."

"I'm not a lady, dude. Please, just call me Astra," I responded with a heavy sigh. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks and he averted his gaze. Can life get any more strange?! I shook my head and switched the subject to the reason why I had called his attention, "Do you know if there's a spare bridle I could borrow?"

"Yes, of course, my lady," he promptly responded, making me throw my arms around in frustration, "allow me to bring you one."

"I'm not a lady, Tyr," I repeated with a pointed look. "And I can get it myself, just tell me where it is."

He gulped and nodded before responding, "You will find a wooden crate in the saddlery where unused bridles are kept."

I thanked him with a small smile and whispered to the mare that I'd be right back before skipping over to the tack room where, sure enough, I found a crate that contained some dirty, old bridles and some spare parts. I picked one that appeared to be in good condition still and removed the bit. I cleaned the dust off the brown leather and then I tweaked some pieces so that the bridle could be used as a side-pull. I'm training the mare my way, after all.

After working with her for over two months, I'd finally given her a name – Cinderella – since I had found her in rags, and now I was turning her into riches. Or that's my goal, anyways. Uther is happy with the progress she's made in that short amount of time, and he even told me that he'd like to pair her up with Morgana, once she's ready.

I'm extremely grateful that I can still have the sense of purpose that horses give me in the midst of the craziness I accidentally got time-transported into.

I finished a short session with Ella in which I introduced her to the bridle and some simple rein cues, and then I returned her to the paddock. Next, I took out Dallas and we went out for an hour-long ride. I've grown to know the woods that surround the castle like the back of my hand – which didn't happen without a few scares when I found myself lost a couple of times. (Don't tell anyone, though.)

After my trail ride with my trusty steed, I set him loose in the paddock and he grazed happily while I gave him a thorough grooming as I hummed Rush's 'Closer To The Heart' to myself.

"Hello, Astra," Merlin suddenly appeared behind me, making me jump and glare at him, but I quickly changed my look of displeasure for a frown when I realised that he seemed more fidgety than usual.

"Did you do something illegal again?" I asked, worried that he might be in trouble once more. I've grown to genuinely enjoy his company and don't wanna see him beheaded.

"I have to tell you something before you hear it from Arthur… But first, you have to promise not to kill me," he said, offering a sweet smile.

I gulped and my eyes widened, now feeling worried for my own safety, "Oh, no, what is it?"

"Promise you will not kill me?" he pleaded.

I stared at him with narrowed eyes for a few seconds. "Okay, fine," I relented even as my heart started to race. "Keep in mind you said nothing about not torturing you for the rest of your life."

"Sure. All right. Here it goes," Merlin started to bounce on his heels as he glanced around nervously.

"Oh, c'mon, just say it!" I pressed anxiously

He blurted out something so quickly that I only grasped the words 'I' and 'tomorrow', which earned him a glare.

"Merlin!" I scolded in frustration.

"Fine." He sighed and looked down for a few seconds before returning his eyes to mine, "Arthur was telling me that his father could not find anyone to play music at the celebration tomorrow, and I may have accidentally mentioned that you can sing!"

My jaw dropped, "Merlin! Why would you do that? I can't sing to save my life! What were you thinking?" I began to pace, my teeth nibbling on my bottom lip.

"Of course you can sing! You sing all the time!" he argued as he watched me with a mix of worry and amusement.

"No I don't!" I shot back, flailing my arms.

"Oh, really? And what were you doing when I got here two minutes ago?"

"But that's not really singing!" I argued.

"Yes it is!" he exclaimed.

Okay, then. Maybe it is. But I still don't wanna sing in front of everyone at court!

"Well, I'm not doing it!" I stated, and I gave my friend a pointed look before returning my attention to brushing Dallas.

"Come on! How hard can it be?" Merlin continued to beg, moving to stand right behind me. I clenched my jaw in annoyance and put more distance between us by moving to my horse's other side.

"Nope," I stood my ground.

"Please?" he said, giving me a puppy-dog look over Dallas's back. "You could give us a taste of twenty-first century music!"

"Actually, I'm more of a classic rock girl," I told him with a shrug, my face scrunching up in displeasure at the thought of truly modern music. I remember people at school playing stuff such as 'Despacito' and 'WAP' and… well, I wouldn't willingly listen to any of that if my life depended on it.

"Whatever! Just do it! Please!" Merlin continued begging.

"Nope."

Thankfully, he gave up eventually and left me alone.

I was stopped in the corridor as I made my way to my new room by none other than the gorgeous– I mean… by none other than Prince Arthur, which wasn't a rare encounter considering that my room is right next-door to his.

"Ah! Astraea, just the person I wanted to see!"

I huffed in annoyance, reflecting that he likely was going to bring up the me-singing-at-the-feast thing, and I stopped in my tracks, raising an eyebrow as I turned to face him, not quite meeting his eyes out of fear that my heart would become an idiot again.

"Astraea died," I informed. "I'm her identical twin… Bastra… ea."

He snorted and moved to stand in front of me, so I looked down at my slightly dirty riding boots and shifted awkwardly. "Very funny," he stated with a hint of genuine amusement in his tone. "I assume that Merlin told you about my father's troubles with finding some entertainment for the feast?"

I glanced up at him for a second, immediately regretting it as I saw his striking blue eyes intently fixed on me. "No, he didn't. I don't know any Merlins. I'm here to collect my twin's body," I stuck to my admittedly terrible attempt at getting him to leave me alone; figuring that I could still achieve that if I annoyed him enough.

He sighed in frustration and I took another momentary glance up at him. "Astraea, please! My father is desperate! The few decent singers available in the realm are still wary about what happened to the Lady Helen and they refuse to come!"

I made a 'tsk' sound. "Sounds like you have a problem, then. Hope you find a solution soon. Bye!" I told him and quickly stepped around him. He was faster, though, and swiftly moved to stand in front of me again.

I groaned and looked up at him with a glare, which immediately softened as I saw the puppy-dog look he was giving me. Curse him for being so cute.

Shut up, brain.

Great, here comes the accelerated heart. And the warm cheeks. Maybe I should ask Gaius to give me a lobotomy…

I bit down on my bottom lip as I looked down again. Then I let out a sigh and asked, "What's in it for me?"

"I thought you sought no rewards," he pointed out teasingly.

"Not when I'm helpin' outta common decency," I replied. "This is different."

He let out a faint chuckle, which made me grin a little against my best attempts to remain stoic. "I will speak to my father and see what we can arrange," he assured me.

I puffed, "Fine. It better be good."

"I promise you it will be," he replied.

"Good," I mumbled and nodded, still keeping my eyes down.

"Thank you, Astraea," Arthur said softly, his tone causing my heart to skip a beat again.

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me big-time," I grumbled in return.

He chuckled and finally stepped out of my way, allowing me to reach my room. However, a thought flashed through my mind and I stopped in front of the door, turning around to address the Prince once more.

"Do you happen to have a guitar I could borrow?"

"I can find one for you," the blond replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Cool, thanks," I said, and with that, I finally entered my room.

The room is very nice. Awesome, even. It has a queen-sized dark wooden canopy bed with white curtains and covers (though I'd placed my Avengers blanket on top of those for a personal and homey touch); a desk is placed next to the window with a chair tapestried in crimson red and gold; there's a small dining table, a vanity, what passes as a bathroom, and a decently-sized walk-in closet.

I partly miss the cosiness and familiarity of Gaius's apartment, especially because I've found that I can relax around him and Merlin. But it's great to have my own personal space again (a big one at that!), and I am grateful. I only wish I had more of my personal stuff to make it feel truly 'mine'. But I guess it's just temporary… or I hope it is. I mean, I'm still operating under the assumption that Leo, Henry and Mason will find a way to get me home eventually.

Once I was alone, I pulled out my phone and started going through the music in it, trying to find some songs that I know the chords to.

My cousin Oliver had taught me to play the guitar when I was about eleven-years-old. From the time he was twelve, he'd formed a small band with his friends from school and they played small gigs at parties and even in some pubs once they were old enough; to the point where they had acquired minor celebrity status inside San Antonio. I could never be as good as he is – considering that he plays for a living, while I only learnt it as a hobby – but I certainly don't disgrace myself, either.

I narrowed down my list of possible songs to sing at the event, and all I had to do now was review the lyrics to make sure that there weren't any mentions of things that don't exist in the sixth century; and then practise. I figured that, sadly, one song wouldn't be enough – I'd probably have to play about four or five for Uther to be satisfied.

Merlin was the one to deliver the ancient instrument to my room about an hour later. It looks somewhat different to the instrument I am used to, but I obviously expected that, given the many centuries between them. Anyways, it's close enough to the modern thing that I can play it without stumbling over the chords.

"Hey, bud? Are you busy?" I asked Merlin, who remained standing in front of me as he watched me analyse the guitar.

"Well, I still need to polish Arthur's chainmail and clean his saddle," he replied with a sigh.

I tilted my head. "How about ya' help me get some practice in front of an audience, and then I'll help you with that?"

He grinned and nodded in agreement before sitting down at the small dining table in the– my room.

My soul was nearly violently expelled from my body as the door to my room swung open, barely giving me time to shove my phone under a pillow as my heart-rate increased significantly.

"My father wants you to stand with us when we receive our guests from Mercia," Arthur announced, walking into my living space as if he owned the place. I mean, I guess he kinda does, but still.

"Ya' ever heard of knockin'?!" I asked in bewilderment, feeling panicked that he'd almost caught me with my electronic device.

He gave me a sheepish look.

"What's next? 'S he gonna appoint me second heir to the throne?" I asked in a huff as I stood up from my bed and started to pace in anxiety, wondering why the King suddenly holds me in such high regard.

Arthur shrugged and threw a thick piece of red fabric at me. I scrambled to catch it, without success, and I sent him a pointed look before picking the thing up from the floor, soon realising that it was a dress.

"Wear it," he commanded.

I recoiled at the order and raised an eyebrow as I examined the piece, "Red's not really my colour…"

As is the custom here, the dress is long sleeved, reaches the floor, and the fabric is soft and a bit fuzzy. Most of it is crimson red, but it has a thick gold parting down the middle with a flowery pattern embroidered onto it with matching red thread; and a zig-zagging red cord adorns the waist. The darn thing is beautiful, without a doubt, but it really isn't something that would fit me. I'm a stick-person, not a Barbie.

"Astraea," the Prince said in a warning tone.

I narrowed my eyes at him and we held a glaring contest; only, he cheated by having piercing blue eyes that melted my insides and forced me to look away. I seriously hate him!

"Okay, fine!" I relented in frustration.

He smiled in satisfaction and left the room, leaving me to glare at the back of his head as I pictured his perfect (shut up, brain!) golden hair suddenly catching fire.

The things I do for these people!

A knock sounded at my door, causing my body to jolt once more. But, hey, at least whoever it is actually had the decency to knock!

"What now?!" I groaned in annoyance and I threw the dress on top of the dining table before going to open the door, finding Gwen on the other side.

She's nice, even if I don't socialise with her much, so I forced myself to drop the whiny attitude and I offered a small grin as I greeted her, "What brings ya' 'round?"

"Arthur suggested that you might need help getting ready," she replied in a kind tone.

Of course he did. Stupid Prince.

I looked over at the dress, tilting my head in contemplation. The lack of a zipper surely means that there's a complicated way to tie the stupid thing.

"Uh, yeah. I guess that can't hurt," I answered with a sigh before stepping out of the way to let the girl inside my room.

Gwen shot me a little smile and she moved to pick up the dress. "This is beautiful!" she noted.

"Any chance ya' wanna wear it instead?" I asked, only half-joking. She giggled, and I don't think she caught the discontentment in my tone. I gave her a forced smile and looked away while mentally cursing Arthur once again.

"Shall we get to it?" Gwen asked after a few moments.

"Uh, sure. Just gimme a second," I replied before rushing into my mostly empty walk-in closet and closing the door.

I shrugged off my black bomber jacket, my baby blue hoodie, and my Avengers logo t-shirt; leaving me in my sports-bra. My eyes travelled down towards the messy scars that litter my arms, and then towards the big, angry scar on my abdomen. I sighed in frustration and grabbed my light grey base-layer. "This'll have to do," I mumbled to myself and I pulled the item over my head. I kept my riding leggings on, figuring that they wouldn't be visible under the dress, either; and then I glanced at my dirty white sneakers on the floor for a moment before deciding to just wear socks. That's also something that won't be seen.

I exited the closet and moved to stand some metres in front of Gwen, who sent me a questioning look as she eyed my clothing, but she said nothing.

"All right, how do you put that on?" I asked, nodding towards the dress as I anxiously nibbled on my bottom lip.

She instructed me to pull the dress above my head like I would one of my 'peculiar hooded shirts', and I followed suit, letting the red fabric fall down over my body. I glanced down at it and grimaced, feeling like a doll. And not like a Barbie, as we've established, but like… freaking Annabelle. I sighed in frustration, wishing that I'd stayed in Ealdor with Hunith.

Gwen moved around me and expertly secured some clasps on my back before gently pulling on the cord that surrounded my waist. I held my breath. "Relax, or I will accidentally tighten it too much," the girl warned. I exhaled and let my lungs fill out. She tied the cord and stepped back before moving to face me again, looking me up and down.

"Do I look too much like a clown?" I wondered, biting on my lip again as I tried to figure out her expression.

"You look beautiful, Astra!" she exclaimed.

I scoffed, "Right."

I mean, I don't think I'm ugly, necessarily, but I'm certainly not beautiful. I'm plain. Like a blank canvas. Which, until now, had always been a favourable thing; helping me to blend into the background of life's big stage.

"Do you want me to help you with your hair?" Gwen asked, not really allowing me to answer since she was already pulling me towards the vanity desk. I already felt helpless in the situation, so I figured that I might as well let her have fun playing stylist.

Half-an-hour later, Arthur came to 'fetch me' and I begrudgingly stepped out of the room when Gwen grabbed my arm and forced me to after I stood glaring at the door for one too many seconds.

"So there is a woman underneath those strange clothes!" the Prince teased as soon as his eyes landed on me.

My stomach churned. "Nope, I'm out," I grumbled as I turned back to enter my room. "Bye, Prince Charming." I would've laughed at my comparison were I not so annoyed by the circumstances I found myself trapped in.

He's definitely as much of an ass as the iconic character from Shrek 2. I guess the writers weren't so far off from the reality of princes when they created his personality.

"No, wait," he protested and he moved to block my path once again, preventing me from crossing the door. I glared at him. "You look very nice."

Guess what happened next? My heart began to malfunction and I instantly dropped my head as my entire face warmed up! I can't wait to be out of this place! It's obviously not healthy!

"Come on," Arthur spoke again and he courteously offered me his arm.

"What? You can't dress yourself, and now you can't even walk on your own?" I asked as I stared at his outstretched limb with narrowed eyes, knowing that grabbing it would most certainly give me a stroke of some kind.

"I am supposed to escort you," he stated with an eye-roll, then he nodded towards his arm with a stern look.

"But I'm a germaphobe," I lied.

"A what?" he wondered, scrunching up his face in confusion.

"Y'know, afraid of ever getting sick, so I avoid contact," I explained with a shrug.

"No, you are not. I have seen you kiss your horse on the muzzle," he quickly shot back.

Darn it.

I turned to Gwen for help, only to find that she was no longer around.

"Astraea," Arthur spoke again after a few silent seconds, his voice now much softer as he searched my eyes, "will you please allow me to escort you?"

I groaned in annoyance – which was mostly directed at the way my heart did another backflip – but I relented and finally hooked my arm under Arthur's, instantly taking note of the natural warmth that his body expelled, and of the firm muscles under my hand. He grinned in triumph, earning a glare from yours truly, and I rolled my eyes as he started to lead me towards the throne room – where we'd be meeting with the people from the kingdom of 'Mercia', apparently.

"Ah, Astraea! I am glad you are joining us!" the King greeted me with a small grin on his face – a slightly unnerving look that I'm not sure I'd ever seen before.

"Your son didn't really give me much choice, Sire," I replied with a fake smile and I glared up at Arthur once more as I let go of his arm.

Much to my surprise, the King let out a chuckle and he patted the Prince on the back, "It is good to see that you two are getting along."

'Getting along'? The only reason I haven't smacked the royal prat is because he's, y'know, the freaking Prince.

"And, please, call me Uther," the King added.

My eyes widened and I felt myself freeze. I must've died when I stepped onto the time-travel platform and this is all a crazy, elaborate way of torture that 'The Bad Place' has conjured up for me. That's the only logical explanation for what's happening.

A trumpet blasted suddenly, startling me out of my thoughts, and a bunch of people dressed in dark blue began to enter the room, led by a tall, dark-haired man who wore a golden crown.

Arthur pretty much forced my arm around his once more – making me huff and roll my eyes in defiance of the feelings that began to make my systems fail again – as he moved us to stand next to his father.

"Now, see, blue's more my colour," I whispered. The Prince gave a discreet shake of his head.

I could feel the tension in the room as the two kings stared each other down like football rivals before a championship.

"Camelot welcomes you, Lord Bayard of Mercia," Uther's booming voice echoed through the room, his tone firm and perhaps a bit wary. "The treaty we sign today marks an end to war and a beginning to a new friendship between our people."

Him and 'Bayard' (like the dog from 'Alice In Wonderland'!) grasped each other's arms and everyone in the room, on both sides, started clapping in an almost forced manner, which suddenly made me wonder what sort of conflict exists between the two kingdoms.

The crowd began to disperse through the castle shortly after as the servants of Camelot were ordered to show the visitors to their rooms, and I frowned while I watched the room gradually be emptied, thinking that there had been so much fuzz made around this event for it to only last half-a-minute.

Arthur finally let go of me, giving me space to breathe a little.

"Really? That's it?" I asked him in a whisper.

He looked down at me as he responded, "No, there will be a feast later. I will ask Merlin to deliver another dress for you."

"Another one?" I asked while looking down at the perfectly nice dress I was wearing. "Why? There's no need. This one's clean and isn't too uncomfortable."

We argued for a bit until he finally agreed to let me wear the same dress to the feast.

Just after sunset, Prince Charming came to my room once again and he escorted me towards the grand hall, where the feast would be taking place. I still resisted, but I was quicker to let it go this time when he claimed that he had an amusing surprise for me. I was sceptical, but curiosity got the best of me.

I was not disappointed when my eyes landed on Merlin as soon as Arthur and I entered the room, and I bursted out laughing, "Dude, you look awesome!"

He was wearing the most ridiculous outfit I'd ever seen: a crimson shirt with Camelot's coat of arms on it in gold, a matching cape, and an extravagant hat that had long bright red and green feathers sticking out from the top. He looked like a mix of a buffoon and a wannabe musketeer.

Arthur chuckled as the sorcerer narrowed his eyes at us. "Are you happy you came, now?" the Prince asked me.

"I'm not unhappy," I responded with a small smirk.

As soon as the blond got distracted while speaking to some knights, I scurried away from him and went towards Merlin. He was now hanging out with Gwen – who looked very entertained. I greeted them with a grin and reached up to play with the feathers on the sorcerer's hat, earning a slap to my hand that caused me to pout.

I noticed my friend looking around until his eyes fixated on a specific spot, his blue irises widening as he rapidly removed his hat. I frowned as I looked around the sea of people, standing on my tippy-toes in an attempt to get a better view.

"She is pretty is she not?" Gwen suddenly asked him, making me tilt my head. "For a handmaiden, I mean."

"She is pretty for a princess, let alone a handmaiden," the boy responded eagerly, seemingly not even attempting to filter his words, which caused Gwen to look down sadly.

"Smooth," I mumbled under my breath as I shook my head at the oblivious idiot, then I continued to try to get a glimpse of whomever he was simping over. My eyes finally landed on one of Bayard's servants – a tall and skinny brunette with lapis lazuli-coloured eyes. She wore a blue turban and a simple red dress.

"People of Camelot–" I jumped when Lord Bayard's booming voice filled the room as he looked around, "for a great many years we have been mortal enemies, and the blood of our men stains the ground from the walls of Camelot to the gates of Mercia. And though we remember those who have died, we must not allow any more to join them."

A serving woman approached the Lord and she stood quietly beside him while holding a fancy wooden box up for him; which he opened to pull out two expensive-looking silver cups.

"As a symbol of our goodwill, and of our newfound friendship, I present these ceremonial goblets to you, Uther, and to your son, Arthur, in the hope that our friendship may last," the foreign ruler continued and he handed a goblet to each of Camelot's royals.

The Pendragon men gallantly accepted the gifts and they went to sit in their designated spots at the table while Bayard continued to bore everyone present with an unnecessarily lengthy speech.

In the meantime, Merlin's latest crush approached him meekly, her eyes cloudy and her arms held behind her back as she asked to speak with him privately. She pulled him to a corner of the room and I followed them with my eyes, frowning as I tried to figure out what was happening. Gwen watched them with a deflated expression on her face, which I noticed when I glanced at her for a moment.

"Don't worry, we can find you someone much better than him," I assured her with an encouraging smile, mentally cursing the sorcerer for being such a dumb-wart. The girl blushed and looked down while I smirked.

I returned my attention to the centre of the room to find that Bayard was still blabbering on.

"…and may the differences from our past remain there. To your health, Uther. Arthur," he raised a cup of his own towards them. "The Lady Morgana. The Lady Astraea..."

My stomach dropped as my eyes widened. "What the heck is he talkin' about?!" I whisper-yelled, my head turning towards Gwen in hopes that she'd have some inside information, but she simply shrugged in response.

Just as Arthur raised his shiny new cup to his lips (don't ask me why my eyes were suddenly on him, 'cause I don't know), Merlin rushed into the room and exclaimed in alarm, "Stop! It is poisoned! Do not drink it!" In a flash, he'd snatched said object from the Prince's hands and he was now holding it against his chest in a protective manner.

I felt my jaw drop as my heart began to race.

"What?" Uther questioned monotonously. I swear Siri has a broader emotional range than him.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur asked his servant through gritted teeth.

I'm not sure what prompted it, but I ran to stand beside my friend – almost face-planting in the process thanks to the smooth floor of the room, which was a bit slippery under my socks – ready to defend him if needed.

"Bayard laced Arthur's goblet with poison," Merlin explained to Uther, his eyes warily darting between the two kings.

My eyes connected with the Prince's for a moment as I worried a little for his safety (he's an arrogant jerk, though not to the point where I want him to die, y'know?), but I quickly returned my attention to Merlin.

"This is an outrage!" Bayard roared as he unsheathed his sword, his knights following suit.

I flinched back at the sight.

"Order your men to put down their swords," Uther commanded as Camelot's own knights prepared to strike, "you are outnumbered."

"I will not allow this insult to go unchallenged!" Bayard growled, his face turning bright red in anger.

"On what grounds do you base this accusation?" an eerily calm Uther asked as he turned to my friend.

Merlin seemed to hesitate for a moment, which allowed Arthur to swoop in. "I will handle this," he assured his father while moving around the table and towards his servant. He threw an arm around the boy's shoulders and asked loudly, "Merlin, you idiot, have you been at the sloe gin again?"

The Prince pushed the sorcerer towards his father, whose eyes narrowed as he regarded the boy. "Unless you want to be strung up, you will tell me why you think it is poisoned," the King growled. "Now."

Panic struck at my chest while my eyes fixated on my friend.

Merlin gulped before replying in a slightly shaky voice, "He was seen lacing it."

"By whom?" the King asked, still eerily calm. He seemed to me like a time-bomb ready to go off at any moment.

"I cannot say," the sorcerer answered as he glanced away for a second.

"I will not listen to this anymore!" Bayard exclaimed. I tilted my head as I momentarily glared at him.

"Pass me the goblet," Uther ordered. Arthur took the cup from Merlin and handed it to his father.

The King analysed the goblet while slowly walking towards Bayard, who watched intently. "If you are telling the truth–"

"I am," the foreign Lord cut in.

"Then you have nothing to fear, do you?" Uther asked him as he offered the cup. Bayard put away his sword and he reached for the object without hesitation, but the King pulled it back at the last second. "No. If this does prove to be poisoned, I want the pleasure of killing you myself," he decided, then he turned around and stretched his arm towards Merlin. "He will drink it."

My eyes widened as horror struck at my soul.

"Woah, my Lord, hold on!" I protested – remembering to add 'my lord' in the middle so that I wouldn't seem too impolite – as I moved to stand in front of my friend, as if my significantly smaller frame could shield him.

"What now, Astraea?" Uther asked with an exasperated sigh.

"If it's really poisoned, Merlin will die!" I exclaimed in a panic. "Isn't there a safer way to settle this? Maybe Gaius can examine the contents of the drink? C'mon, Sire, let's be civil here."

Merlin is probably the only real friend I've ever had… I don't want to lose him. Especially to something as avoidable as this.

Uther stopped to think about my suggestion for a moment and hope ignited within me as I prayed he'd agree to do what I asked.

"No. This shall be settled right now," he stated in a stern tone and moved to hand the cup to Merlin again.

My lungs became constricted and I started a little when a hand suddenly squeezed my shoulder gently. It was Arthur, who moved to stand beside me as he addressed his father, "Father, please, listen to Astraea. If it is poisoned, Merlin will die!"

"Then we will know he was telling the truth," Uther replied, pushing past us to reach my friend.

My heart-rate increased tremendously as I looked up to the Prince for help, trying to ignore the way in which my eyes had pooled with tears. If this whole trip has simply been a crazy dream, this would be the perfect time to wake up.

"And what if he lives?" Bayard questioned.

"Then you have my apologies, and you can do with him as you will," the King replied sharply as he forced the goblet into Merlin's hands.

I shared a frightened glance with the boy. He could take back his word, but I'm certain that he's telling the truth about the cup being poisoned, and if he retracts, Arthur or somebody else will drink from it in the end. The only solution that doesn't end with an unnecessary death is the one I'd proposed, but the King appears to be too impatient to allow it. Does life really have so little value to him?!

"Uther, please! He is just a boy! He does not know what he is saying!" Gaius stepped in now, his voice pained.

"Then you should have schooled him better," the King shot back, not sparing him a glance.

"Merlin, apologise!" Arthur called to the young sorcerer, who shook his head in response and stood his ground. "This is a mistake. I will drink it," the Prince then stated, reaching for the cup.

I felt like my brain was spinning as I stood frozen while my eyes jumped from person to person, a slight ringing settling in my ears.

"No, no, it is all right," my friend affirmed, taking a step away from the Prince. I watched with widened eyes as he had the audacity to make a toasting motion before lifting the cup to his lips.

"Merls, no!" I tried to run towards him off an impulse that told me to just drink the dang thing myself, but Uther's arm shot out in front of me and prevented me from reaching the boy in time. "No, please!" I begged, my vision now blurry as my breathing became laboured.

"It seems fine," Merlin noted after he had drunk it. I swallowed a lump in my throat, still watching him carefully through teary eyes.

"He is all yours," Uther turned to Bayard but averted his gaze, seemingly embarrassed.

Mercia's knights immediately moved to grab the sorcerer, but before they could get to him, Merlin started to cough erratically.

"Merls!" I gasped as I rushed to his side. His face went pale in a matter of a few seconds and he plummeted to the ground without warning. I tried to stop his fall, but his weight was too much for my body and I collapsed with him. It wasn't in vain, though, because I managed to keep him from banging his head against the hard floor.

"It is poisoned! Guards seize him!" Uther's booming voice ordered the Camelot army.

"Dude, come on!" I spoke to Merlin as I shook him violently once I'd recovered from the shock of the fall. "Don't you dare die! I'll bring you back to life, somehow, n' kill you again, d'ya hear me?!"

Gaius tried a calmer approach as he kneeled beside us and squeezed the boy's shoulder gently, "Merlin, can you hear me?" Then he moved his hand towards his neck. I froze for a second, then sighed when the physician nodded at me, indicating that there was still a pulse.

We continued trying to wake him for another minute or so, until Gaius eventually gave up and turned to address Arthur (who had at some point joined us on the floor without me realising it until then), "We have to get him back to my chambers."

The Prince nodded and, without hesitation, he picked up Merlin, throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Gwen, who had also joined us, offered me a hand and she helped me to stand up – which was much appreciated given how embarrassingly much my body was trembling. I used the sleeves of the dress to wipe the tears from my face.

"Bring the goblet," Gaius then told the two of us before hurrying after Arthur and Merlin. Gwen quickly grabbed said object off the ground and we shared a quick nod before rushing out of the room and towards the physician's apartment.