Camelot

June, 507 AD

As you might expect, the knights of the round table, and Gwen, were all very thrilled to have Lancelot back; and Arthur was quick to plan a special dinner for him that very night.

Now, don't get me wrong – I'm glad to see him, too. He was one of my first true friends ever and I love him. But I'm beyond confused.

He was dead. Like, dead-dead. So how can he be back? Why did the after life, or whatever, spit him out? How long ago was that? Are there any side-effects to returning from the other side? And, most importantly – is he really him?

I've watched all of 'Supernatural' at least four times. I know better than to shrug off my questions and walk away. Thankfully, I'm not alone – Merlin has the same doubts, which I learnt after a quick, hushed conversation. And, lucky for us, the special dinner will give us the perfect chance to get some answers.

"I fear I remember very little after the moment I stepped through the veil. My story will not be as illuminating as I would like," Lancelot said once the questions began to pour in from many fronts. Obviously, Arthur, the knights, and Gwen are eager to know what happened to him, too. But there doesn't seem to be a single hint of scepticism on any of their faces.

See, people? That is what happens when you don't watch TV!

"We are just pleased to see you," Arthur told him, a happy glint lighting up his gorgeous eyes. "Well, pleased and amazed."

Lancelot(?) grinned. "I owe everything to the Madhavi people," he stated as he looked down, "When they found me... I was near death. Luckily for me, their customs dictate that they must give food and shelter to the needy." He let out a sigh. "And I was certainly that."

My eyes found Merlin's, who sat in front of me, and we shared a wary look.

"Where did they find you?" Leon asked the after-life escapee.

"On one of the silk road passes, high in the Feorre Mountains," Lancelot replied slowly. It almost sounded rehearsed… I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Cenred's kingdom," Elyan noted.

Lancelot nodded. "I travelled with them for many weeks, deep into the deserts of the south. Then, slowly, my strength returned. When I was able, I earned my passage the only way I know how – by the sword." He smirked and earned a couple of chuckles from around the table. "Then I slowly made my way north."

"You made your way home," Arthur said with a smile and the returned knight nodded.

I guess his story sounds plausible. That is if you ignore the fact that he was dead! It's certainly convenient that he 'doesn't remember anything' regarding the veil. Or maybe he does, but doesn't wanna talk about it. Like Dean Winchester when he returned from spending forty years in hell.

I carefully scanned Lancelot's figure again.

There is one thing different about him: his eyes. They seem almost blank. Dull. Emotionless. Soulless?

My train of thoughts was broken by a hand suddenly grabbing mine. I jumped slightly, then I remembered that Arthur sat beside me and I relaxed a little. I gave him a small smile as he intertwined our fingers and he returned the gesture before turning to Lancelot again.

"We cannot thank you enough for what you sacrificed on the Isle of the Blessed. It will be remembered always," the King said.

I watched the returned knight for a reaction. Nothing. Not a wince, not a flash of emotion in his eyes... just a seemingly empty smile. Could it be that I'm reading too much into this, though? Perhaps all those movies and series have made me overly paranoid...

"It is, indeed, good to see you once again," Lancelot replied with a sigh. "I would like to propose a toast." He stood up. "To the people I hold most dear. To Camelot!" he cheered as he raised his glass of wine.

"To Camelot!" the people around the room cheered along.

Except for Merlin and I, as we took advantage of the moment of distraction to share another dubious look.

I found an unexpected – but very welcome – guest at my door later that night, holding a pillow as he asked to spend the night on my spare mattress, since he gave his room to Lancelot. I happily granted the request. However, the expression on Merlin's face didn't inspire so much joy. He seemed deflated and very concerned.

"Did something happen?" I asked as we were teaming up to prepare the mattress.

"I think I got some evidence to back up our suspicions," he noted with a shaky glance, his eyes stormy.

My stomach churned and my eyes widened. I wasn't expecting us to be able to find something so quickly!

I sat down cross-legged on my bed and gave him my undivided attention so that he could explain. He mirrored my position on the mattress and let out a sigh before whispering, "He does not remember I have magic."

I gulped. "How did you find out?"

"I told him that I wish I could have used magic to save him; and he said that that would have been great if any of us had magic."

I puffed as I leaned back slightly, resting my weight on my arms. "Well, it's not necessarily dooming information," I tried to be optimistic. "It could just be that his brain is jumbled up."

"Right… Or he could be someone pretending to be Lancelot," my best friend countered.

"What're you thinkin'? Shape-shifter?"

He tilted his head. "Or something darker…"

"Demonic possession?"

"Would he not have to be alive for a demon to possess him?"

I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head as I considered it for a second. "Well, Jimmy Novak died eventually and Cas still kept the 'meat-suit'," I did air-quotes around the last word, "without any decay." My brother nodded pensively. "But I doubt that Supernatural's the ultimate authority on that. Almost all other movies on the subject require the victim to be alive."

"I was thinking necromancy," Merlin finally revealed his hypothesis in a whisper.

My heart sped up slightly as I blinked rapidly at him. "That would mean he was brought back by a witch!" I pointed out. He nodded. "Darn, Madame Mim!" He nodded again while snorting slightly. "So, what, she sent him to kill Arthur?"

"Probably."

I sighed in frustration and I let myself drop backwards on my bed, suddenly feeling too tired to deal with this bull-crap.

"So what's the plan?" I asked in a mumble after staring at the ceiling speechless for a few moments.

"I will look for a way to confirm our theory and you keep an eye on him tomorrow during the tournament?" Merlin suggested.

"Sure."

We went to bed shortly after; though I barely slept a wink, and I'm certain that he didn't either. We've had a lengthy break from having to save Arthur's life. Something was bound to happen again. It just sucks that it came in the form of a moment of hope in getting Lancelot back. But since when are we that lucky?

I skipped around my room and sang while getting ready for day two of the tournament, hyping myself up with Big Time Rush playing loudly through my earphones. I only had one on in case someone called for me, or something.

My breath hitched in my throat when the door suddenly flew open. "What the hell?!" I exclaimed as I rushed into my closet so that I could put a hoodie over my black tank-top to cover the scars on my arms, and I quickly hid my phone in a drawer. Then I returned to my room, freezing for a second when I found Lancelot. "Y'know you're supposed to knock, right!?"

"My apologies, Astraea. I did not mean to frighten you," he replied with a small smirk playing on his lips.

I gave him a pressed smile, trying my best to appear nonchalant above the wariness I felt in his presence, as I leaned against one of the posts that make up my canopy bed. "What brings ya' 'round?" I inquired.

I tensed up when he suddenly pulled something out of his pocket and I held my breath until he finished unwrapping an item from a cloth, revealing a simple silver bracelet with some generic engravings on it.

Or are they generic?

"The Madhavi people gave me this token of good fortune for my journey. I would like you to wear it, for luck in the tournament," he explained. I flinched slightly when he reached for my arm and he eyed my face with a calculating gaze as he slipped the bracelet onto my wrist. "It is a rare thing, and I was lucky to have been touched by it."

"Thanks…" I bit my lip as I inspected the item. It's a bit too wide for my complexion. Not to mention, Lancelot is giving me the creeps with his out-of-character behaviour, only reinforcing the theory that the figure before me isn't him. "You sure you wanna give this to me, though? I mean... you were always close with Gwen and Merlin, too."

He shook his head. "No. I want you to have it."

All righty, then.

I flinched once more when he suddenly took a step closer and put a hand on my shoulder.

Heck, he's gonna stab me!

But, to my surprise, all he did was kiss the top of my head before walking away and leaving the room. I blinked rapidly as I watched him go.

Why the heck is he suddenly being so affectionate with me? Gwaine is the only knight who's ever been like that. And, more importantly – could the bracelet be, like, enchanted or something? Like the one Morgana gave to Arthur when he went on that quest to the Perilous Lands…

If Merlin and I are right (which is usually the case) about Lancelot, it could mean that the witches are after killing me, too. Which isn't news; and I can deal with that – I have dealt with that – as long as no one touches Arthur. If we are wrong, though... Well, then it doesn't make sense at all.

With a spinning head, I slipped off the bracelet and placed it inside one of the drawers in my desk – I'll just deal with it later – before going to lock my door. Then I took off the emergency hoodie I'd put on and replaced it with a pale blue base-layer shirt. Next I pulled on some socks, my riding boots, and I hurried to braid my hair before leaving my room; locking it once more to keep certain people out. Namely possibly-not-Lancelot. And Gwaine.

Finding that there were still a couple of matches left to go before it was my turn to go in the arena, I went to look for Arthur, wishing for some comfort after the strange encounter with possibly-not-Lancelot.

I need to find a shorter way to call him.

"What is wrong?" Arthur immediately asked when our eyes met.

I frowned. Since when is he so perceptive?

"You have got blood on your lip," he mumbled, and before I could do anything, he ran his thumb over the sore spot, leaving a burning tingling sensation that spread through my nervous system, causing my heart to start racing. I momentarily glanced at the faint traces of crimson on his finger. "That only happens when you are worried about something," he continued as if he hadn't just caused a short circuit in my body.

"It's nothing, just thinkin'," I replied with a shrug once I regained function.

"Are you nervous about the tournament?" he questioned as he gently placed his hands on my waist.

I snorted, "Of course not." He gave me a sceptical look. "Don't worry about it. I'll come to you if it becomes a problem – deal?"

He sighed and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me to his chest. "Fine."

After another successful day of hitting knights with pool noodles, I had dinner with Gaius and Merlin. Partly because it's been a while (by which I mean, like, two days) since I got to spend some time with just them; but also because my brother and I want to ask the physician some questions.

Merlin and I exchanged glances as we ate our Minestrone soup, neither of us clear on how to board the delicate subject.

Merlin hummed. "Veggies are good. Nice broth," he commented, earning a small grin from Gaius. I nodded in agreement.

My brother's eyes travelled to his bedroom's closed door, where possibly-not-Lancelot was sleeping, and then he returned his focus to the elderly man in front of us as he ripped off the band-aid in a whisper – "What do you know about necromancy?"

Gaius recoiled and dropped his spoon into his bowl, causing a minor splash. "What?"

"Well, you know lots about lots of things, don't you?" Merlin continued, almost nonchalantly.

"Yeah, like a walkin' Wikipedia," I threw in with a small grin.

Gaius eyed the two of us cautiously. "Necromancy is the most dangerous of all magical practices. Even in the days of the Old Religion, such sorcery was viewed with the utmost suspicion."

So... nothing helpful.

"I know I am going to regret asking this, children, but why do you want to know?"

Merlin and I shared a hesitant look.

"We think that someone gripped Lancey tight and raised him from perdition," I replied, barely audibly.

"By someone I presume you mean Morgana," Gaius brilliantly deduced.

"Well, I doubt it was Castiel," I mumbled in reply. "Though he did 'forget' Sammy's soul in hell that one time…"

"Astra, focus," Merlin scolded while nudging my side.

"Right, sorry."

"The old legends do speak of such creatures," Gaius revealed as he casted a wary glance towards the closed door behind which possibly-not-Lancelot lay. "They call them 'shades'. Poor, tormented souls summoned from their rest by the necromancer's art."

"So it is possible," Merlin noted.

"Even if it is possible, we have no way of knowing for sure," Gaius replied gravely.

"Well," I sighed, "then I say we get to readin'."

The three of us spent a couple of hours rifling through books until we finally found something useful: a relatively easy spell that has to be cast above a spiral painted on the floor. If done correctly, it would momentarily reveal possibly-not-Lancelot's true form when he inevitably walks over it by coming out of the room. 'Cause we painted the thing right outside the door.

I giggled quietly the whole time during which Merlin and I busied ourselves with a bucket of white paint that we stole from the tournament grounds. I couldn't help it – I felt like a true Winchester!

When the spiral was finished, my brother whispered the spell over it. It glowed orange for a second and then it returned to white.

A few moments later, we heard a creaking sound inside the bedroom. Merlin peeked in through a crack on the door and scrambled backwards in a flash.

"Show time?" I asked in a whisper. He nodded 'yes' and we moved to hastily wake up Gaius, who left us for dreamland some hours ago. The man was quick to rise to his feet and we all scurried to hide inside the storage room, from where we could watch the scene without being spotted by possibly-not-Lancelot.

Moments after, the returned knight stepped out of the bedroom and, just as planned, he passed right over the spiral without even glancing down at it. My body jolted when his figure was replaced by a burning skeleton for just a moment. Darn it! Then his 'normal' image returned and he left the apartment.

I hung my head in defeat.

"I didn't want it to be true," Merlin voiced my thoughts.

"I know. We all wanted him back," Gaius responded softly.

"Yeah," I breathed out.

"This man is a shadow of his former self," the physician pointed out gravely. "A shadow with ill intent."

"Do you think he means to harm Arthur?" my brother inquired.

"Our track record says 'yes'," I replied as my heart-rate increased.

"Whatever his reason for being here, it cannot be good," Gaius noted.

I let out a shaky breath as I ran a hand down my braid, which became somewhat messy overnight. "We should get goin', then," I said, feeling anxious to get back to Arthur's side and make sure nothing happens to him.

I let my armour drop to the ground inside Arthur's tent, producing a loud clang. He started and turned around, a bewildered look forming on his face as he scanned the mess I just made. He sent Gwen, who stood behind me, a questioning look.

"She said she wanted to be near you," she explained briefly while eyeing me with a confusion that seemingly became a permanent fixture on her features ever since I informed her of my wish to share a tent with the King not five minutes ago.

A small grin formed on Arthur's lips as he moved to hug me. I was only too content to return the gesture, my muscles finally relaxing after being tense for too long.

He separated from me a little and leaned his forehead against mine, looking me in the eyes as he commented, "I thought you liked having your own tent. You spent many hours decorating it." I simply shrugged in response and moved to rest my head on his chest.

George stopped by to announce that I was up in a bit and Gwen instantly moved to help me put my armour on, but I stopped her.

"Actually, can I do it without all that?" I asked as I turned to address Arthur. "It's freaking uncomfortable."

He chuckled. "There is a dress code for a reason, darling."

"Yeah. 'Cause you people like to suffer," I mumbled. Gwen gave me an apologetic look and started to help me again. I reluctantly allowed it and worked on fastening my arm thingies (I haven't bothered to learn all the names, okay?) while she worked on fastening the breastplate behind my back. "This is even worse than the stupid corset you made me wear once," I told her.

"I told you to fill your lungs and you did not listen," she reminded me with a chuckle.

"You were squeezing 'em."

"I had not even touched the cords yet!"

Arthur interrupted our dumb argument by snorting in amusement. I glared at him as he walked my way. Gwen stepped back and allowed him to take over her task. "She does a much better job than Merlin," he teased my brother, earning a chuckle from him, while he finished doing up the last buckles. Then he grabbed one of my arms and inspected the job I did on the... arm thingies. I huffed when he untied the leather cords and tightened them. "They will fall off if you leave them like this."

"That was kinda the point," I grumbled. He chuckled and shook his head.

"You are the one who wanted to joust," Merlin reminded me, also seeming amused at my admittedly childish behaviour. I glared at him.

"Yeah, I didn't realise it involved so much torture," I mumbled in reply. I dropped my head against Arthur's shoulder as I resigned to letting him fix the arm thingies. "Can we ditch the armour next time?"

"What next? Are we going to ditch the horses, too?" he questioned.

"No!" I instantly protested. "Horses are the funnest part!"

He chuckled again and gave me a quick kiss before grabbing my helmet and pool noodle from the table and handing them to me. "Off you go, my beautiful Lady-Knight."

"Stop forcing our friends to watch sappy rom coms," I scolded with a playful glare while ignoring the way in which my face instantly got warm. I earned a laugh from Merlin and confused looks from Arthur and Gwen. I winked at the King and finally exited the tent.

I had to work very hard for it, but I managed to win my match against Elyan – by a single point!

As quickly became the norm, Arthur and Merlin greeted me outside the arena with congratulatory hugs and a kiss from the King. I mentioned that I need some water and assured the boys that I'll meet them at the tent in a bit. My brother was gracious enough to help me take off my armour and had no problem carrying it back as we parted ways.

Dallas followed me as I filled up a cup of water from a long table that was set up near the stands with snacks and drinks, and then he walked beside me as we made our way back to the tent. However, a friendly voice distracted me from my path.

"Trae!" Gwaine called out. I turned to him and smiled for a moment before it involuntarily dropped when I noticed not-Lancelot (Lance-not?) beside him. I glanced at the scoreboard and saw that they would be going up against each other in a minute. "You did great, kid!" my friend praised, causing my lips to curve upwards again.

"Thanks, buddy," I responded while trying not to glance at not-Lancelot too much.

"How about a good-luck hug from my little friend?" Gwaine asked while opening his arms.

Not wanting to blow off my dear friend, no matter how much not-Lancelot creeps me out, and certainly feeling like I could use a hug, I walked towards him, with my horse still following, and I chuckled when he rapidly wrapped his arms around me.

"Do I get a hug as well?" not-Lancelot asked when Gwaine and I separated, making a chill run down my spine. I hesitantly turned to face him and he opened his arms. I gulped when I realised that I have to do it, or he'll know that we are onto him. Trying not to tremble too much, I stepped forwards and gave him a quick hug. Or I tried to make it quick, because he seemed to lock me in place.

"L-lancelot?" I questioned hesitantly as I tried to push away from him, my heart-rate increasing. Thankfully, he released me and I sighed in relief, more than ready to run away and get back to Arthur. However, a firm grip on my arm kept me in place. My heart jumped to my throat.

"You are not wearing my bracelet," the necromanced knight noted as he frowned down at my wrist.

I could feel Gwaine's curious gaze on me as I stuttered out a reply, "I-it kept f-falling off. D-didn't wanna l-lose it."

Not-Lancelot huffed, dropped my arm, and stomped away.

I flinched when a gentle hand was placed on my shoulder. "Are you all right, Trae? You have gone pale," Gwaine said softly. I turned back to face him and nodded.

"Y-yeah. Just tired," I mumbled in response and gave him the best reassuring grin I could fake. Then I touched Dallas's shoulder to let him know we were going and all but flew back to Arthur's tent, jumping straight into his arms as soon as I saw him.

Sadly, not-Lancelot beat Gwaine.

And then Arthur beat Leon.

My stomach dropped when it was announced that the King and the undead knight would be facing one another tomorrow – which means that not-Lancelot will be getting the perfect opportunity to kill him!

I doubt it's hard to hide a weapon inside a pool noodle.

And, to make matters worse, I'll have to go against whoever wins!

Now I am starting to regret signing up. If Arthur survives and wins, I'll have to give up my ambitions and let him win, 'cause it'll look bad if the King loses against the crazy girl from far away. And if not-Lancelot wins, he might try to kill me.

Yippee!