San Antonio, Texas
January, 2023
My body buzzed with excitement as I watched Leo's U-Haul pull up in front of the barn, my heart beating proudly in joy while I bounced on my heels, eager to get going.
The boy looked entirely unamused as he climbed off the car and he sent me a glare as he moved towards the back of it. So that he could unload the time-machine, I realised with a big grin forming on my lips. I helped him carry some of the less heavy parts.
He froze as he entered the barn and turned to me with a bewildered look, "What the hell is that?!"
I assumed he was referring to the embarrassingly overloaded camping wagon that stood inside, attached to Dallas's saddle by a leadrope. I raised an eyebrow, thinking that the answer to his question was obvious, so I responded with a sarcastic remark, "A smoothie."
Leo scoffed, "What, so you're takin' your entire life with ya'?"
"Yahtzee," I replied with a grin. The boy ran a hand over his face. "It's not like I'm asking you to carry it all! All you have to do is get me home," I argued.
He shook his head. "I defended you against Mason, but he was right. You're certifiably crazy," he mumbled.
I snorted, "Thanks, I take great pride in it"
Leo rolled his eyes and didn't say anything else as he started to assemble the time-machine. I thought over how much I'd hated the stupid thing at first, but now it's here to save me. To give me one more shot at happiness. And I couldn't be more grateful that my former teammates had chosen to do that project.
"All right, let's get this over with," Leo grumbled. I knew that he wasn't happy with my choice and, more so, the consequences that it could bring him – even though I had repeatedly assured him that I'd left letters specifying that this is my decision and that he'd been a reluctant abettor after I'd threatened him.
I let out a shaky sigh and whistled Dallas over, getting him to follow me as I stepped onto the metallic platform.
"Thanks, pal. This means the world to me," I told Leo, offering a reconciliatory grin.
"Yeah, yeah. I just hope you know what you're doing," he replied in mutter.
I nodded, "Yeah, I'll be fine."
And with that, everything went dark.
Camelot
January, 505 AD
The kingdom of Camelot was eagerly preparing for a grand jousting tournament. Knights from all over Britain and some from mainland Europe were pouring in through the several gates of the castle, carrying colourful flags and banners that proudly showed off each man's allegiances. Despite the cold weather and snowy trails, life was merrily buzzing.
Arthur and Merlin were keeping busy with their roles prior to the competition; which, for the Prince, included training and, for the servant, standing by ready to assist him with anything he might demand.
The sorcerer watched with an agape mouth as Sir Gareth and Arthur charged at each other on horseback, each holding a long lance that was aimed at the opposing party. The horses blazed past each other at the urging of their riders, and the Prince's lance hit the knight's chest. Hard.
Merlin's eyes remained fixed on Gareth, who was now on the ground, as he moved to hold Bronze's bridle while Arthur took off his helmet and allowed himself to get a breather following his successful run. "That has got to hurt," the servant noted of the fallen knight.
"That is the point, Merlin," the Prince responded with a scoff and an eye-roll, "it is not a pillow fight." The sorcerer raised his eyebrows while still watching Gareth. "Fetch me another lance, will you?" the blond then ordered.
Merlin did that swiftly and stood back to watch as the Prince got ready for another round, this time against Sir Leon. However, the match went awry when Arthur was blinded by a direct stroke of sunlight, which caused him to forget about his task as he instinctively moved an arm to shield his eyes. The knight, gallant as ever, let his own weapon down and did not try to strike.
After quickly processing what had happened as he hopped off Bronze, Arthur took off his helmet and stormed up to Leon. "Why did you pull out?!" he asked angrily. "I was wide open, you could have unhorsed me!"
"I was fearful that I might injure you, Sire," Leon responded, looking slightly wary under the fire of the Prince's wrath.
"You had the advantage! You cannot afford to hesitate!" Arthur scolded.
"I would not have done so if I were facing a different opponent," Leon stated, making the Prince recoil in shock. "But you are the future King, My Lord."
"You jousted against me in the tournament last year. Are you saying you let me win?" the Prince questioned.
Leon averted his gaze for a moment and shook his head, "No, My Lord."
Realising that the knight was clearly lying, Arthur turned around to face the rest of his army while feeling the burning hole in his heart grow bigger at the fleeting thought of how Astra had never allowed status to get in the way of anything. "It does not matter who I am!" he yelled at the cowering men. "I do not expect any special treatment from you! From any of you! Is that understood?"
The knights shared reluctant nods, wishing only to please their Prince.
Arthur stormed into his chambers with Merlin following right behind. For once in his life, the Prince began to take off his armour by himself as he ranted to his servant, "How am I going to prove myself if my opponents are not trying their hardest?!"
Merlin picked up the discarded pieces of armour from the floor. "I am sure it is not happening all of the time," he offered.
The blond halted and turned around, "So it is happening some of the time?!"
"No I am certain it is not," the sorcerer quickly backtracked with a nervous shake of his head.
"Now you are doing it!" Arthur accused, his anger elevating. "You are telling me exactly what you think I want to hear!"
"Yes," Merlin blurted out without thinking. Then he froze as the Prince gave him a look of enraged disbelief. "Uh, no. What was the question?"
Arthur let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "That just proves it," he said, now a bit more calmly even if his heart was still racing. "All my life I have been treated as if I am special. All I want is to be treated just like everyone else!"
"Really?" Merlin questioned, feeling slightly amused at the Prince's words and unable to believe that they might be true.
"You have no idea how lucky you are," Arthur continued, unaware of the fact that his servant was still picking up the armour that he'd carelessly thrown on the floor while he comfortably leant against his desk. "The only person who has ever treated me like a true equal was..." the Prince trailed off, finding that he was unable to say her name as a lump suddenly formed in his throat.
"Astra," Merlin finished for him in a whisper.
Arthur nodded as he dropped his head, feeling a pang in his chest. The sorcerer gave him a sympathetic look, feeling a similar pain.
"Well, anytime you want to swap places, just let me know," Merlin said in a feigned upbeat tone, attempting to shove the topic of the girl out of time aside. He'd learnt, over the past six months, that nothing good ever comes out of bringing her up. It just makes Arthur upset, and the poor sorcerer usually ends up paying for it.
"That is not a totally stupid idea," the Prince noted as he turned around to face his servant.
The duo snuck around the lower town early on the next morning, the Prince wearing a hooded cloak so that he wouldn't be recognised while they avoided guards, knights, and civilians.
Finally, they arrived at Gwen's home and let out relieved sighs as the door opened. The kind girl promptly let them inside and told them to make themselves feel at home. Merlin knew that the words were a mere courtesy, and he moved to help her finish placing the sheets on the spare mattress that he'd brought in the night before. Arthur, however, was oblivious to this as he plopped down at the kitchen table, digging into a breakfast meal that was set upon it.
Gwen and Merlin shared an annoyed look, but neither commented on it.
After his moderate outburst in his chambers, the Prince had decided that he would compete in the tournament undercover – using another name and getting another man to show his face in his place – while everyone believed him to be away on a hunt for 'a magical creature that has been terrorising the northern borders'.
Arthur was certain that this ruse would ensure that he was fighting with his skills and not with his title.
Unsurprisingly, he'd enlisted the help of his servant, who had in turn enlisted Gwen's help. They both thought that the plan was stupid, but their only choices were to either help the Prince, or allow him to do all this on his own – which was bound to fail because he's not very bright. So the girl had reluctantly agreed to let the blond stay in her home during the tournament.
"How are the preparations coming along?" Arthur questioned his servant with an expectant look. "Have we found someone to play our knight?"
"Absolutely," Merlin responded while exchanging a nervous look with Gwen, who had since moved on to prepare another bowl of oatmeal. "He is a farmer from one of the outlying villages, and no one will recognise him."
The blond regarded the sorcerer with a sceptical gaze and asked, "But does he look the part?"
His inquiry was answered not too long after, when Merlin brought in a lanky man who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He had a messy mop of chestnut hair, an untrimmed beard, and terrified doe-like green eyes.
"Great," the Prince mumbled as he looked the farmer up and down in contempt. He did not look the part.
While Arthur sat by being useless, Merlin and Gwen worked the for most of the day to make sure that the farmer would appear like a believable knight, so they had fun (not really) playing extreme makeover as they made the man take a bath, gave him a haircut, fixed his facial hair, and dressed him in stately clothes.
By the time the sun began to set, the man – who would be carrying the name 'William of Deira' for the tournament – looked like a completely different person and Arthur began to believe that they might actually be able to pull off his plan.
"Home sweet home!" I exclaimed as I took in the snowy forest that surrounded Dallas and I after I got over the usual slight headache that follows travelling through time. I knew that I was somewhere in the wilderness of Camelot (unless Leo had forked up and sent me to, like, Norway or something); I just didn't know the exact location. I huffed when I realised that I had no clue where to go next and pursed my lips as I turned to look at my horse, who seemed perfectly unfazed by the insane life we're living.
"Fun, now what?" I asked. I casted a look towards the overloaded camping wagon and tilted my head, reflecting that there was a very high chance that it might topple over at any moment.
I seriously need to find some sort of trail soon, or I'll have to spend the night in the woods. I mean, I'm not afraid of camping… but it's winter, y'know? And I'm kind of aching to get back to the castle and see everyone… Though I'm also kinda scared. I mean, will they be happy to see me? Will the Pendragons welcome me back with open arms, or will they have me hanged for, like, treason for having left? Will things be the same way they were before, or have certain social dynamics changed over the six months that I've been gone?
I shook my head in an attempt to shoo away the chaotic thoughts and glanced around me once more. "I miss Google Maps, already," I mumbled. Then I flicked the side of my own head. I'm back in Camelot! Who cares if GPSs aren't a thing? They have magic, and dragons, and great people that I've missed like crazy!
A grin formed on my lips at the reminder that I'm really here and I mounted my horse. Then I put my earbuds on and clicked 'shuffle' on Spotify before tucking my phone into the pocket on the side of my leggings. 'Don't Look Back' by Boston began to play.
"C'mon, Dal," I whispered to my horse as I nudged him into a trot, heading off in a random direction. We'll eventually come across civilization (I hope) and then I can just ask anyone for instructions on how to get back to the castle.
Dallas and I trekked through the woods at a vibrant pace, my heart beating energetically and fuelling the seemingly permanent smile that had become fixed on my lips ever since I'd stepped onto the time-machine's platform.
I kept my eyes alertly in search of any familiar paths, or trees, or rocks, or other formations in the distance. Something's bound to show me the way back home, right?
Home… Finally!
Lucky for me, it only took about an hour before we arrived at a familiar sight – a clearing that had some cute yellow flowers blooming in it, defying the roughness of winter. "Hey! We've been here with Merls!" I cheered while rubbing my horse's neck in excitement. He let out a puff and I chuckled.
The sun began to set shortly after, producing a breath-taking spectacle of colour gradients above me that caused my heart to sigh with contentment. This is the good life.
Knowing that I should probably try to reach the castle before night claimed the lands, I prompted Dallas into a canter so that I could speed-up the journey.
That turned out to be my undoing, however, as the camping wagon instantly fell on its side, forcing my horse to stop abruptly, and I was launched out of my saddle and onto the cremello's neck. I allowed my body to drop to the cold icy dirt below and then I let out an annoyed groan as I sat up.
With a huff, I loosened Dallas's girth and secured my stirrups to the saddle, allowing him to rest and munch on what little grass there was around while I worked on getting the wagon back on its wheels. The task was incredibly tedious. It was like playing a giant game of Jenga, only the pieces were unbalanced and uneven.
I managed to accomplish my task eventually, only to trip into the realisation that night had beaten me.
I can't possibly find my way home in the dark… I'll end up in, like, Glasgow.
Feeling slightly deflated, I undid my hard work so that I could get my sleeping bag out of the wagon and I arranged a small campfire, which I lit with a lighter I'd brought. Thanks to the freezing weather, I had to further mess up the bags to get my collection of blankets out of my suitcase. I soon noticed that I'd forgotten to pack my tent, so a bunch of MCU-themed blankets and a ridiculously small campfire were my only protection against another encounter with hypothermia.
My eyes were beginning to droop as they remained set on the beautiful night sky above me; when I noticed an evaporating fog interfering with my view of the stars, which made me frown.
With a groan, I sat up and determined – by the faint smell of smoke in the air and the sight of a warm light that shone in the distance – that there was another campfire nearby. Too close for comfort. Unless… What if it had been lit by some knights of Camelot? Or, even better, Merlin and/or Arthur?!
As hope ignited in my chest, I pushed myself to my feet and told Dallas to stay before silently walking towards the direction of the smoke.
Soon, I started to hear male voices; though none of them were familiar, which was disappointing. I was about to turn around and go back to my camp, not wanting to risk being seen (I'm still, after all, ninety pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, and I have no weapons on me, which means that sarcasm is currently my only defence and that will do nothing to stop evil men from doing evil things), but the mention of a name forced me to remain in place.
"Do you have news on the whereabouts of Prince Arthur?" one of the men asked in a raspy voice.
"Everyone believes he is travelling to the northern borders, but I have discovered that Arthur's servant remains in Camelot," another dude replied in a deeper tone.
I frowned. That doesn't make any sense, Merlin is basically Arthur's companion dog! He wouldn't leave him behind!
"His name is Merlin," the second voice added. "He stepped in to help the current favourite, William of Deira."
So there's a tournament going on in Camelot and, for whatever reason, Prince Charming is likely competing undercover…
"How is this going to help me?" the first man asked.
"You can gather information from him," the second one replied, making my stomach churn. That can't be good. "You need to hurry up, for you have merely two days left and Odin does not forgive unfinished jobs."
Ah, crap he wants to kill Arthur.
Having heard everything that I needed to, I rushed back to Dallas, knowing that I had to move quickly if I wanted to get home in time to warn them of this plot.
Gaius and Merlin were just about to start digging into their dinners when a pale-faced Sir Leon entered the chambers and announced that the King demanded the physician's presence. Obviously, the sorcerer tagged along and they were led towards a corridor, where Uther stood… along with the body of a deceased guard.
The physician promptly moved to inspect the corpse.
"Can you determine a cause of death?" the King gravely questioned.
"His neck has been broken, there is scarcely a mark on the flesh…" Gaius listed. "Whoever killed him knew exactly what he was doing."
Uther's gaze fell to the floor and he clenched his jaw.
Leon gulped as he turned to address the royal, "Earlier this evening, an intruder was spotted in the lower town."
"Then I fear it is true, Odin has sent an assassin to kill Arthur," Uther stated.
"An assassin?!" Merlin couldn't help but cut into the conversation as his stomach dropped.
Uther turned to him, "Have you any word from Arthur since he left for the northern borders?"
"No, none," the sorcerer lied as he shook his head.
"With this assassin in Camelot, we must be thankful Arthur is not here," the King noted, earning a curt nod from Merlin. Then he turned to Sir Leon again, "Search the entire town. I want the assassin found before Arthur returns." The curly blond gave a slight bow and promptly left to carry out the orders.
With a twisting stomach, Merlin sprinted towards Gwen's house as soon as he was able to escape Gaius.
"Arthur, there is an assassin in Camelot. He is here to kill you," he announced as he bursted through the door, interrupting an uncomfortable silence that had settled in the atmosphere as the Prince and Gwen dined.
Even if they had known each other pretty much their whole lives, they've never really interacted much; and they obviously don't have a lot in common, other than the people they are associated with and the language they speak. It was so awkward that Arthur sighed in relief at seeing his servant, despite having heard the troublesome news he brought.
"The assassin killed a guard. Your father said Odin sent him," Merlin started to explain as he took a seat next to Gwen, whose features instantly showed concern.
"Why would Odin want you dead?" she asked the Prince.
He looked away from the pair and gulped, feeling guilt pooling in his chest. "Because I killed his son," he confessed in a low tone. "Odin's son challenged me to a fight… I had no quarrel with him. I asked him to withdraw. Perhaps he felt he had to prove himself… I can still see his face. He looked so scared…"
Gwen and Merlin shared a sad glance and remained silent for a few moments, allowing the Prince to gather his thoughts. Then the sorcerer spoke again, "No one but us knows where you are. If the assassin cannot find you, he cannot kill you."
Arthur nodded in agreement and turned towards Gwen in an almost sheepish manner as he asked, "May I continue to stay here?"
The girl's insides were screaming 'No!', but she still replied, "Of course, for as long as you need," while sending a desperate look towards Merlin.
Of course, she's sympathetic to the Prince's plight, but he's the worst roomie in history!
