San Antonio, Texas
May, 2016
[warnings : non-graphic references to self-harm, death]
"This kid is simply magnificent, folks!" a cheery male voice was heard through the speakers. "Astraea Aphelion and Sky Locomotive take the Juniors' Easter Cup for the third consecutive year – a feat never seen before!"
A twelve-year-old Astra rode into the show ring for the third time that day, a small proud smirk playing on her lips as she ran her fingers through her horse's dark grey mane. She halted the Thoroughbred in front of the president of the 'Texas Hunter-Jumper Association' and gave him a little shy grin.
The elderly man stepped closer to the pair and carefully hung a blue ribbon on Sky Locomotive's black side-pull bridle before handing a gold-painted trophy to the teenager. "Excellent work as usual, Miss Aphelion," he praised with a courteous nod before moving on to give out the rest of the prizes.
With a wide smile painted on her lips, Astra scanned the crowd until her eyes finally landed on Juan – the stable-hand who usually drives her to horse shows, given her family's busy schedules. The Mexican man gave her a thumbs-up gesture and a grin. She returned the thumbs-up and then returned her attention to petting Sky Locomotive – who is affectionately known as 'Skylo'.
The awards ceremony concluded shortly after and the girl walked her horse out of the arena and dismounted before loosening the girth and rolling up the stirrups. Juan reached the pair shortly after and they began the walk back towards the trailer.
"You've done a good job with him, señorita," Juan complimented.
Astra smiled as she gazed towards Skylo, who walked calmly beside her, with love in her eyes. "Well, he's a great horse," she noted.
The nine-year-old Thoroughbred has been her partner for four years. She bought him from a friend of her Uncle's when he decided to retire him from racing after he'd stopped making enough money to 'earn his keep'. Astra had taken her time with the gelding and turned him into a catchy show-jumper.
Skylo was promptly untacked and rewarded with a couple of carrots before he was loaded onto the trailer.
Juan turned towards the girl with a grin and a wink, "Let's go. We can stop for some quesadillas on the way back."
"Sounds like a plan!" she chirped with a smirk.
That night, Astra went to bed with a big smile on her face – something that is becoming more and more unusual as she struggles in every aspect of her life outside of horses. Middle-school is infernal and she hates everything about it: from the noisy hallways, to the crappy cafeteria food, to the snobby kids. However, her uncle and aunt refused to allow her to do home-schooling, despite her constant pleas.
She shouldn't be ungrateful, though. At least she has Skylo and her two-year-old gelding, Dallas, to get her through the days.
Frantic knocks on the door echoed through her room at 3:00, paired with the sound of Juan calling her name desperately. "Señorita, you need to call the vet!" he exclaimed. "Something's wrong with Galileah!"
Astra sprang out of her bed and hurried to phone Dr. Peña before rushing down the stairs, out of the house, and towards the paddock where her dad's mare lives.
"W-what happened?" she asked Juan as tears formed in her eyes and she kneeled on the ground next to the bay mare, stroking her neck gently. She instantly noticed the mucus surrounding her nostrils and how she was struggling to breathe.
"Seems like a respiratory thing," the stablehand replied with a sorrowful look.
Galileah is an old horse, at thirty-two-years-old; but she was supposed to be perfectly healthy according to recent vet-checks. Astra always paid special attention to the mare, feeling like she could somehow connect to her father through her. She'd known him for way longer than the girl had, after all.
Dr. Peña arrived fifteen minutes later and, with the help of Juan, she unloaded her equipment and hurried to examine the mare, quickly determining that she was most likely suffering from equine influenza – despite the fact that she'd been vaccinated in December. And, given the animal's advanced age and the apparent fast progression of the disease, there was nothing much that could be done.
Astra felt as if she were a fish in a bowl that had been agitated mercilessly before being flung into the toilet. The tears didn't stop at all throughout the rest of the night as she continued to pour every ounce of love she had onto the mare. That didn't fix anything, however, and Galileah breathed her last just as the sun began to rise.
The girl returned to her room with a numb feeling settling inside of her; pale-faced, exhausted, and drained of tears.
She sat on her bed and drank water from a glass cup that she'd put on her nightstand before going to bed, hoping that the refreshing sensation in her throat would somehow make her feel better. Then her eyes landed on a photograph atop a shelf, which showed her dad and the recently deceased mare, and reality came crashing down again. Astra let out a scream and she flung her cup at the wall, causing it to break and spill the remaining water inside.
A couple of glass shards jumped at her and embedded themselves in her forearm.
With a huff, she stood up and went towards the bathroom. She grabbed a pair of tweezers from a drawer (her aunt had gotten them for her, claiming that she needed to fix the thickness of her eyebrows in order to look prettier) and clenched her jaw as she carefully plucked out the small shards. Then she ran her arm under a stream of water to get rid of the insignificant bits of blood that remained, and she placed a band-aid over each cut.
As she returned to her bed, she couldn't help but take note of how she had been distracted from her aching thoughts, if only for a few moments, while she dealt with the physical pain.
Camelot
May, 505 AD
"It could have been worse," a sheepish Merlin told Arthur – in an attempt to reassure him, I suppose – while he was working on folding some shirts. I subtly nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything.
I sat next to the Prince on his bed, with my head leaning against his shoulder, my hands playing with his fingers, and his free arm wrapped around my waist. Ever since the fight with Morgause, I'd been sticking to him like a stubborn parasite. I can remember only a few times in my life when I'd been as scared as I'd been when the woman had gotten so close to killing him.
"How, exactly, could it have been worse?" Arthur asked in a grumble.
"You could be dead," Merlin suggested, causing my breath to hitch as an unwelcome image of that alternative scenario flashed through my mind and I moved even closer to the Prince while clutching his hand for a moment.
"At least I would not have to face everyone," Arthur mumbled.
My eyes widened and I nudged his side with my elbow as I scolded, "Don't say that!"
"Sorry," he whispered with a sigh and he kissed the top of my head. "I have never felt so humiliated in my entire life," he continued responding to Merlin in a groan. "I was defeated by a girl."
"Woman," I muttered.
"What?" Arthur asked.
"She's not a girl, she's a woman," I stated. "She's older." He tilted his head in confusion and I simply shrugged. I don't even know where I was going with that.
Merlin suddenly giggled and I looked at him while raising an eyebrow. "It is actually quite funny when you think about it," he claimed, earning a deadly glare from Arthur and a faux-leather bracelet to the head from me. He instantly turned serious, "Or not…"
"No. It is like you said," Arthur said while pointing at my friend for a moment before he wrapped his arm around me again, "I was hindered because I was fighting… a woman." I grinned a little. "I was worried I was going to hurt her. That is why she won."
"You did not look hindered," the sorcerer noted, earning yet another glare. And one from me, too. "I will stop talking now…"
I hardly slept a wink all night as I anxiously waited for morning to arrive so that I could go back to being Arthur's second shadow. Yes, I know, it's embarrassing that I've been reduced to such a state. I mean, you'd think I was the one who almost died. The idea of losing him is just too awful… I really shouldn't be this attached to him… But, again, my wires seem to be hilariously crossed.
For the first time in ages, I sat with Uther and Arthur during breakfast – hardly able to eat anything thanks to the hole in my stomach that had been left by the heavy emotions from the day before – and fiddled with my spare hair-tie on my lap while my leg bounced up and down.
That is until my head snapped towards the Prince when he revealed that the reason why Morgause had spared his life is because he had agreed to meet her in three days (so, two now) and accept some sort of challenge that she has for him.
My poor overworked heart began to race again at the mention.
Uther was clearly displeased with the idea as he asked, "And what is to be the nature of this challenge?"
"She did not say," Arthur responded with a wary look in his eyes. "But I gave her my word that I would accept it no matter what."
I began to nibble on my bottom lip, as usual.
"You should never have made such a promise. You have no idea what she might ask of you," the King responded in a scolding tone.
"She had a forkin' sword to his heart," I mumbled under my breath.
Arthur suddenly put a hand on my knee under the table, stopping the restless movement of my leg and triggering a 'Disney On Ice' performance from my internal organs. I dropped my head so that my loose hair would hopefully shield the instant blush that appeared from Uther, and I covered the Prince's hand with one of my own, feeling grateful for the contact even if my nervous system was failing again. He intertwined our fingers and gave me a gentle squeeze.
"Morgause said that she knew my mother," Arthur continued, causing my eyes to widen. I don't think he's ever mentioned his mom before!
Uther froze halfway through cutting a pancake and his eyes narrowed as they travelled towards his son. His jaw clenched. "She told you this?" he asked, earning a nod. "Obviously she is lying. She is playing on your affections for your mother to lure you into a trap."
If he's right, it's a masterful plan. Were it aimed at me, I know I'd fall right for it.
"That makes no sense, she spared my life," Arthur argued with a slight shake of his head.
Maybe she did that 'cause she knew that Camelot's entire army would've been on top of her if she had killed him, so she wants to do it in a more private setting…
"It confirms my suspicions," Uther stated and I frowned. "I believe Morgause is an enchantress. How else could she have defeated you?"
"I do not believe she was using magic," the Prince responded while dropping his head a little – obviously still embarrassed by his defeat. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he ran his thumb over my knuckles.
"And how would you know for certain, if she were?" the King challenged. Arthur went to respond, but wasn't allowed to as Uther kept talking, "Under no circumstances will you go to meet her, or accept this challenge."
"I gave her my word!" the Prince raised his voice, which caused me to flinch a little.
"I do not care what was said to her!" the King snarled. "You will remain in Camelot!"
Ι started to feel really awkward with being caught in the middle of their argument, and I started to fiddle with my bracelets without letting go of Arthur's hand.
"I want to hear what she knows about my mother!" the Prince retorted sternly while slapping his free hand on the table, making me flinch again.
"She knows nothing. She is lying," Uther claimed through gritted teeth. "You will not go to her, I forbid it."
"So I am to break my word–"
"Escort my son to his chambers!" the King interrupted him by addressing a pair of guards who stood by the doors to the dining room. "Under no circumstances will he be allowed to leave."
The guards promptly moved towards Arthur and I dropped his hand before they could realise that there's something going on between us.
The Prince's jaw dropped and he threw his arms in disbelief, "You are confining me to my chambers?!"
I remember when my uncle and aunt used to send me to my room for behaving 'badly'. It happened more often than I'd be willing to admit during my childhood, and even more during my teenage years…
"I am protecting you from your own foolishness!" Uther roared.
The guards apprehended Arthur and I watched helplessly as he was dragged out of the room; not really knowing how to react, or if there was anything I could do to make him feel less upset about the situation. If I run after him right now, Uther will surely realise that I have feelings for him, right?
Speaking of the King, he cleared his throat, causing my attention to snap towards him. "You seemed very distressed during the fight," he noted stoically. Oh, crap, he's onto us!
"W-well, yeah. He's my friend and he almost died…" I responded and trailed off to bite on my bottom lip again.
"Then you agree with me?" he asked while raising his eyebrows.
I shrunk into myself and nodded a little. "I-I mean… I admire and respect the fact that he wants to keep his word, y'know? But I'm also terrified of what the challenge could be… I'd rather not find out…"
"Good," he nodded, seemingly approving of my response. "You are a loyal friend to him."
I gave him a little pressed grin and returned my attention to my food, figuring that I should try to eat a bit while I wait for a chance to return to Arthur's side.
Not unexpectedly, Arthur decided that he was going on this dumb quest despite his father's orders and he was quick to enlist Merlin's help; which meant that I ended up getting involved as well, even if I really didn't want to. Like I told Uther, I admire the Prince for wanting to keep a promise – but I really, really, really don't wanna see him get hurt, or worse.
However, my only choices are to rat them out, stay home and fall into a spiral of worry, or join them. The first one would make Arthur hate me, and the second one would be way too overwhelming. So… I'm going.
I sat on the Prince's bed while he paced around the room, impatient as we waited for Merlin to show up with supplies and a way to sneak Arthur out. Under different circumstances, I would've been eager to help him come up with a plan; but now I'm kinda hoping that we'll get caught.
My oxygen intake was uneven and my leg was bouncing as I thought of the million possibilities that could result from this trip – none of them pretty, as they all ended with Merlin and I dragging the Prince's corpse back to the castle.
I fisted the duvet underneath me and squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to think of something else. Like… How cool would it be to have Hulk as a best friend? He could smash creepy women who defeat pretty princes in fights! Though I guess my actual best friend has superpowers, too… He can stop Morgause if she tries to harm Arthur… But what if Uther is right and she has magic, too! Can Merlin overpower her?!
I jolted when my hands were suddenly taken by warm ones, causing me to open my eyes and find Arthur kneeling down in front of me. "Everything will be all right, Astra," he said softly.
"You don't know that," I argued in a low tone. "And I don't wanna lose you."
He gave my hands a gentle squeeze. "You will not, I promise," he stated before moving to sit down next to me and wrapping his arms around my body. I released a shaky sigh and returned the hug, resting my head against his warm chest.
We jumped apart when the door suddenly flew open. I huffed when I saw that it was only Merlin and stole a pillow, throwing it at his head and earning a chuckle from the Prince. "Ya' gotta learn to knock!" I scolded my friend. "You almost gave me a heart-attack!"
"Sorry," he responded with a sheepish look. "But I got the supplies!" he chirped while showing us a backpack.
"Merlin, is it my imagination, or are you getting fat?" Arthur suddenly asked with a frown while motioning towards my friend's upper body.
"Well, he's been really goin' at the hotcakes lately," I noted in response, which earned me a snort from the Prince.
We both got an unimpressed look from Merlin before he lifted his shirt, revealing a rope that was wrapped around his torso. So… I guess Arthur's rappelling outta here. I'm sure everything will be fine…
My best friend tied a sort of harness out of the rope while Arthur peeked out the window to scout the area below. I began to grow anxious again and my mouth soon filled with the taste of blood.
I watched as Merlin put on a pair of gloves – presumably to avoid rope-burn. I pouted and looked down at my hands as I remembered the blisters that had been the consequence of the time when I had to resort to a similar stunt to pull the Prince out of the cave with the Mortaeus flowers.
Arthur suddenly wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. "I have another pair… somewhere around here…" he noted, almost as if reading my thoughts.
Merlin rushed towards the wardrobe and he swiftly pulled out another pair of gloves, tossing them towards me.
"Thanks," I told both of them before putting them on. I let out a little giggle at seeing how ridiculously big they were on me – but at least I won't get hurt now. Arthur pressed another kiss to the top of my head before moving to the window again. I grinned at the gesture before stepping beside my best friend so that I could assist him in helping the Prince descend.
"Are you sure you are strong enough to hold me?" Arthur asked us with a wary look.
"Not the first time I've done it," I reminded him. Granted, the rope had been anchored to a stone pillar the first time, which held at least half of the weight but… details. Merlin should be a nice replacement for that. Kid's gotten fitter since we've been in Camelot!
"And I am stronger than I look," Merlin responded.
Arthur still didn't seem too convinced, but he still climbed out of the window while holding onto the rope. He gave us a nod, and we returned it. And then… he jumped.
I gasped as Merlin and I were yanked forwards and I instantly felt the strain in my arms. "Shift, he's heavier than I remember," I whispered. We shared a worried glance. Maybe Morgause won't get to kill the Prince 'cause we'll accidentally do it for her…
After a few seconds, we managed to get a steady (or semi-steady) grip on the rope – which came at the price of having to halt the descent for some moments.
"What are you doing?!" Arthur called out. "Lower the rope!"
Merlin and I shared another wary glance and then he looked down. His eyes widened in alarm as he returned his gaze to me. I looked down as well and found that we only had about a half-metre left of rope.
"Fork," I mumbled.
"There is no more rope!" Merlin replied to the Prince.
My arms started to tremble from the physical effort – I was wrong; my best friend is not a worthy replacement for a stone pillar! – and my heart began to race as I feared that I wouldn't be able to hold on. I gritted my teeth.
"I do not know if we can hold on much longer," Merlin croaked out, sounding almost as laboured as I felt.
"Merlin–" Arthur grumbled, "do not let go of the rope."
I looked around for something to which we could somehow tie it… like a bedpost! That might be able to hold–
My thoughts were cut off by the rope suddenly flying out of my hands and a scream from Arthur, followed by a thud. "No," I gasped as I dashed towards the window, my heart feeling like it was going to break some ribs… or all of them.
Luckily (well, kinda), a cart that was transporting manure happened to be parked right below and Arthur had fallen right into the pile of poop – which is obviously disgusting, but well-cushioned. He rolled onto his back and glared up at Merlin (who'd moved beside me at some point) and I. I smiled in relief. At least he's alive!
My best friend and I shared a sheepish look.
We casually walked out of the room and greeted the guards as if we hadn't just jeopardised their careers; and once we were out of their sight, we took off sprinting towards the stables – where a smelly and pissed-off Arthur was already waiting for us.
"Merlin, you are lucky I need you for this to work – otherwise I would fire you," he scolded my friend with a grunt. I cowered beside him as the Prince then turned towards me, "Do not worry, Astra. I know that it was Merlin's fault."
I grinned and looked up at my best friend, giggling at his annoyed expression. "Shut up and help me with the horses," he grumbled.