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Anne was jolted awake by being unceremoniously thrown to a gritty, stone floor. She yelped as her shoulder smarted and tried to push herself to stand, but her muscles were still to strained to hold her steady and they gave in seconds. The space was drafty, dusty, and... kind of mildew-y. Ew. That'll attack her sinuses for sure. Where was she? Did the spell backfire? What happened? She wished her eyes and head didn't hurt so much. It made thinking hard.

"This is what came out of the portal? Are you certain?" the manner of speaking was strange, Anne thought; kind of jumbled with words that were English, but seemed to be pronounced strangely.

"Aye. I would know, after all, it knocked me on my arse." Another spoke gruffly.

"And you thought it prudent to bring it here? Could be a danger to the kingdom!"

"Ach, does it look like a threat to you?"

"We couldn't possibly know could we!?" Whoever was talking all upset, Anne thought, must be upset a lot. His voice was gritty from overuse. And the sound, all the noise, echoed distantly in the space giving her already ringing ears a vibrating headache. "She could be working for her!"

"Yeh really think she'd send something like this? Send us a child; who cannae handle a trip through the portals."

"A trap then." the voice growled while the other scoffed. "An attempt to prey on our sympathies."

"Yer paranoid now. There is no dark magic coming from her, she wasn't hurt by the kingdom's barrier. Don't be so hasty, yet. Oi!"

Anne heard the swift singing of a blade being pulled. It was a sound she knew well, what with growing up on stories of the distant past. Her family had a marvelous collection of swords that she'd been often scolded for touching as a child when she wanted to play. She heard the gruff sounding one shuffle quickly towards her and the other take purposeful steps near as well.

"Hold on now. Oi! Albion!"

Albion. Anne knew that name. She'd heard it so many times over her life; from living around her uncles. They'd all had various names through their very long lives, as their nations grew and changed; as the people changed. She knew it, that name, so well. But she'd never used it. It wasn't how she knew him. No, he was always "father" to her. Dad. Oh my god, she thought, she'd found him again. Somewhere else!

"Wait..." she croaked out wincing; her throat was raw. "Please wait."

"Silence. I did not give you permission to speak."

"Are you planning to just slaughter a person, little brother? Is this what your vengeance has devolved to?" Another voice came from another part of the space and Anne tried to shift to seek it, but she could barely move. She couldn't even look up at her captors.

"Ack! Cymru! How long yeh been lurking there?!"

"Long enough, Alba. Now then, stay your hand, Arthur. You should hear her first."

"Should I?"

"Aye. You should." her uncle's voice was firm. She knew it was them; knew their voices. So, it was her Uncle Alistair who found her. And it was her Uncle Rhys who just appeared. Her father growled and made to approach again and her Scottish uncle stepped even closer; tense, ready to pounce.

"Lift her up then." And Anne felt large hands carefully pull her up, whimpered from the pain of it, and made to sit on her knees. But the hands never left, they remained firm and steady on her, with one moving to lift her head under her chin. While she hated being manhandled, she wouldn't have been able to do much without assistance. Truly the mighty have fallen, she thought.

"Speak then. Who are you? Why are you here?"

Anne gulped at the slightly fuzzy image of her father who stood straight, peering harsh down to her, in...in armor. The green eyes she knew seemed to glow, as eyes would during fever. And like her last trip through time, he held a blade to her neck. But this one...this one seemed to vibrate with warm energy. It was large and imposing, as she felt as if the sword itself was pulling something from her.

"M-my name is Anne. I've been falling through time. The first time was accidental. This time was supposed to send me home, but somehow, I came to be here."

"You expect us to believe you cast time magic."

"No, you cast it. To help me." Her father sputtered a moment in shock, before snarling something that sounded like you-dare-lie-to-my-face. But her Uncle Rhys suddenly became very interested, for he drew very close, gently nudging her father's strange sword out of his way; Arthur only complying so as to not cut his elder brother. He examined Anne very closely, eyes scrutinizing, she could tell because this close, she could see him clearly. He looked so much younger than she remembered. How far back did I go this time?! And he wore what appeared to be robes of a sort with intricate embroidery. It was hard to look away from, everything about him seemed to shine with energy.

"Look at me, child." he softly commanded. Anne glanced towards sharp hazel orbs that focused inwards to her senses. How strange, she thought, like he is here...in here.

"Be calm. I will not harm your mind." Anne jolted from the voice in her mind; it seemed to come from all directions. And it may have instructed her to be calm, but the moment was anything but. She trembled, fearful, at what she could only describe as invasion. It was like the ghosts she was so terrified of; it was something intangible. Something that, no matter how strong she was, she can't actually fight off. She wanted to get away, but her Scottish uncle held her firmly in place.

"Be still." But she tried to pull away. She whimpered a 'no', shutting her eyes, and beginning to struggle. "Hush now; tis alright."

"Aye. Stay still, or I will end up hurtin' yeh." Alistair grumbled, clearly uncomfortable at the unexpected turn of events. Her father, who been silent so far, finally 'tsked' in annoyance.

"Be still, girl!" The sword making its way back to point to her sternum, Rhys nimbly shifting away from the sword in alarm, but the tip of the blade had tinged against something dangling from her neck. It was whatever her father had given her in the 1600s before trying to send her home. The contact between the two metals was only a second, but it was enough to spark, literally, a reaction. One that sent her father flying backwards and the air to leave her lungs. Her Uncle Alistair let out a loud curse, letting her go, and complained that his arms were singed, while Rhys seemed fascinated at the pendant. Arthur recovered quickly, brandishing the sword, and ready to strike.

"Step aside, Mryddin!"

"I think not." Rhys only smirked and knelt before her. Anne, while grateful for the spike of adrenaline and clearer sight, was slightly afraid of what would happen next. She didn't do magic and yet somehow, she managed, the necklace managed, to send her father flying...and he was furious.

"I command you—"

"Oi, little brother," Alistair growled, "Yeh don't command us."

"I am the Ki—"

"Over humans! Tha' doesnae apply to us! Don't forget who helped put you there!" Both her kin seemed to be slowly gaining on the other as they loudly argued back and forth. Something Rhys primly ignored with a huff and moved to examine the pendant.

"No wait...it might...react..."

"It won't. I mean no harm, after all; it is merely a prote—" he stopped short, smirk gone, and held the pendant closer to his sharp eyes. Anne finally took a closer look as well. It was a slightly large, rounded thing with an intricate carving on it. All rounded and the sharp loops and points on one side. The other looked like an intricate crest of arms of a sort. Her uncle stared hard at it, and then to her. After a moment, he gave the slightest of smiles and continued blithely on as if the pendant hadn't startled him, "As I was saying, the pendant is merely a protective charm, isn't it?"

"I...yes?" the Welshman simply chuckled at her response.

"It is. A very powerful one, indeed." Anne glanced down to the necklace dangling idly. Her father gave her a protection charm. He'd given her protection. Anne wanted to cry suddenly. In the short time she was there in the 17th century, she'd learned so much about her father and her uncles from their stories. But even then, her father had been a bit stand-off-ish with her, even when curious. He'd accepted the facts as they were, but there was still none of the great affection he'd displayed when he found her in the wilderness as a toddler. Perhaps because she wasn't a toddler during that meeting...or because he had learned of her revolution. She learned so much and yet she still felt so far away from them. "Needn't fear, little one."

"I needn't?"

"You will not be harmed here...by any one of us."

"Myrddin!" Arthur snapped from his place in the headlock that Alistair had put him in during Anne's distraction. Huh, didn't even notice. Anne blinked at the scene. The earlier adrenaline was already starting to fade.

"After all, we are all family here, and we protect our family." That seemed to stop everyone short.

"Wot?" "What's tha'?" the other two asked simultaneously. Rhys merely nodded to them.

"Mm. Exactly as I said, family. "

"Explain, please."

"Aye, an' no riddles! An' how come Rhys gets a 'please' but yeh try to give me orders! Eh?"

"Quiet, Alistair!" Arthur admonished, but Alistair only growled and shoved him hard enough that Arthur nearly mis-stepped.

"Both of you, enough!" Rhys sighed heavily, exasperated, throwing an apologetic glance towards Anne who was trying to curl in to support her own weight, and keep her father's attention on her at a minimum. "Honestly, you two...compose yourselves this instant. We have a guest to attend to."

"Brother..."

"She is family, as I said, Alis. Your daughter, Arthur. She bears your sigil and our family crest. Only kin could possibly have such a talisman; it only works with blood-kin. If you lot were not so distracted, you might have noticed." Alistair swiftly approached again to look at her more closely, grasping her chin to turn her face back and forth in curiosity.

"Lucky yeh got the handsome family traits from us and none of yer father's unfortunate looks." Anne heard her father sputtering in the background. She didn't want to point out, however, that all the brothers looked alike. "Heh, look at yeh though...yer here...Yer here." her Scottish uncle gave a rather disarming smile that threw her off-guard a bit. He patted her cheek and stood to glance at Arthur who stood rooted to his spot, carefully watching her, but little expression.

"Oi, what're yeh standin' there for?"

Anne thought he looked a little bewildered, unsure of what to do, which she could sympathize with, but the last time...the last time, once he'd figured who she was, he stayed close...reacted immediately. But he just stared, almost dispassionately, at her.

"Oi, Albion!" "Arthur..." It was getting harder for Anne to hold herself up.

"It's alright," she finally said, dry throat sharply twinging in protest, "I was a bit of a surprise last time too." She tried to shift, but her arms gave, and with a small gasp she crumpled back down to the floor. Arthur gave a small 'oh' as she crumbled, and took a hesitant step forward. Her uncles, being nearer, quickly rushed in to help her up. "I'm sorry. I was weakened traveling before, but I fear it is worse this time around."

"Yeh'av'been travling a while then?"

"Yes, I...as I said, the first time was an accident. This time...well, everyone was trying to send me back to my time. I don't know what happened to send me here." The two holding her shared alarmed looks before trying to help her stand.

"Don't yeh worry, lass. We'll handle it."

"Handle what?" Came another voice. Anne saw her Irish uncle, Reilly, saunter in from another corner. He glanced about the scene before him in confusion for a bit.

"So..." He started, "What did I miss?"