Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Kingdom of Elmet had a lot of natural defences, such as the swamps near the border with Mercia, the river and muddy ground at the border with Rheged, the high hills at the border with Deira, and the thick and dense forest at the border with Camelot.

That forest was home to many magical creatures, including Wyverns, and thus not a place Camelotians would willingly enter unless forced to do so. Not even roughed up bandits dared to go there.

Only trained Elmetian warriors could navigate the diverse landscape of the land over which the Fisher King had once ruled in its most prosperous time.

But with the King’s infection, the land of Elmet became sick and died, no longer able to sustain other life than Wyverns and the Impenetrable Forest. The King was magically tied to the lands.

When all seemed lost for the Fisher King, the Dragonlord turned up to nurse the magical infection and maintain the Fisher King’s life, who would eventually pass his magical ties to the lands of Elmet on to a witch or warlock strong enough to carry the duties that came with it.

Generations of Dragonlords and their wives tended to the Fisher King, but he did not deem any of them strong enough magically to carry the weight of Elmet.

But that was to change with the firstborn of Dragonlord Balinor.

Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot had been sent to the Northern Plains to capture a group of particular nasty bandits who enslaved villagers to put them to work in other lands.

But the fight the Knights had against the bandits wasn’t going well.

They’d been boxed in, only a few Knights still standing while the number of bandits only seemed to grow no matter how many were cut down by the sword.

As a bandit was standing over the now defenseless Prince as his sword had been knocked out of his hands, a seemingly stray arrow pierced through the bandit’s chest.

The raised sword fell out of his hand and fell like a sack of potatoes onto the damp forest grass.

Soon enough, the Camelotian discovered the arrow had been purposefully fired.

Men and women clad in black and brown leather outfits stormed down the small hills on black horses with swords and spears raised.

They were an organised fighting force.

Arthur took the opportunity to free the men and women who the bandits would’ve sold as slaves had the convoy not been apprehended. He opened the carriages and helped everyone out as chaos was exploding behind him.

He spun around once, only to witness one girl with a tiny stature defeat three tall and beefy men on her own... as her eyes flashed gold.

‘Sorceress!’ was the Prince's immediate thought as he simultaneously took one step back.

Once the three men were down, the sword-wielding sorceress made eye contact with the Camelotian, her eyes now back to cerulean blue.

Their eyes were locked together for a second or two, before the black-haired girl in brown leathers joined her comrades in battle once more.

“Where did these people come from?” Leon then asked, now standing beside his commander-in-chief.

“I don’t know.” the blonde answered. “At least the villagers are now free.”

The battle died down as the last bandits were chased up the hill, where they were hit point-blank with arrows through their chest as archers had been waiting for them up there.

The people who had come down from the hills scattered, diverting their attention to their own wounded as well as the Camelotian Knights who had either been killed or fallen down unconscious.

The girl who the Camelotian Crown Prince had seen using magic approached the two still standing men. “I suppose you two will need some help tending to your wounded.”

“We appreciate the help you’re able to give us until some more of my men are back on their feet.” Arthur did have his right hand close to his sword, which he had picked up from the ground, just to be sure. “Have the bandits been troubling you as well?”

The blackhead shook her head. “Bandits won’t cross the Elmetian border, it’s too dangerous for anyone who does not know the terrain. But we have received pleas for help for some time, as the people felt their own King didn’t respond quickly enough.”

The Prince expressed displeasure on his face. “My father does not prioritise this region.”

“We’ve noticed.” the Elmetian woman said with a dry tone. “I’m Muriel, Princess of Elmet.”

“Arthur.” the son of King Uther stated. “That’s Sir Leon, my First Knight.”

“Pleasure to meet the Crown Prince of Camelot.” Muriel said. “Though I suppose I expected you to be… a little bit different.”

The blonde stared at the Princess in front of him. “What were your expectations?”

“Less civil conversation, more attempts at trying to kill me considering I wielded magic right in front of you.” the girl bluntly replied.

“How…”

“How do I know you know? Because I saw you looking straight at me.” the dark-haired girl threw her braid behind her shoulder. “But I suppose I should be glad that you are the way you are, makes helping you and your Knights a lot easier.” she looked away to observe her own people. “We’ve already been able to eradicate two bandit groups who’ve been operating from the Vale of Denaria, this third group was rumoured to operate from Andor’s Mountain range.”

The Crown Prince nodded. “We are aware that bandits prefer areas which are difficult to reach.”

“Bandits really like unhabitable places. I’m sure they’d love Elmet’s swamps.” the young woman joked.

“I’ve heard of the impenetrable forest. Is it really that bad?” Arthur asked.

Muriel shrugged. “It’s a bitch to navigate the first few times, but you’ll get better at it the more time you spend in there. You learn to live off of Wilddeoren.”

Arthur frowned. “Wilddeoren?”

“They’re like… giant baby rats.” the Princess replied. “Anyhow, I’m gonna search for logs. You wanna join?”

Despite only being 17 years old, Crown Princess Muriel Dragonborn of Elmet was an accomplished leader of Elmet’s border patrol. She led 30 of Elmet’s most experienced hunters through the difficult terrain near their borders, and sometimes intervene in border skirmishes in Mercia’s Forest of Ander.

The bandits in the north of Camelot which Camelot’s King obviously didn’t care about were the first issues the Elmetian border patrol had gotten themselves involved in.

King Uther had finally sent Knights of Camelot up to the Northern Plains to apprehend a 3^rd group of bandits and their convoy, but it was clear to see that the Knights were not used to the merciless ‘no survivors’ style combat that bandits often employed against their enemies.

The Princess hadn’t waited one more second before ordering an archer to fire the shot to signal the beginning of their assault on the group of bandits who reportedly had their base in the Andor Mountains. She had not expected to encounter the Crown Prince of Camelot, but she supposed that engaging in a civil conversation with him showed her political goodwill.

The Crown Prince and his First Knight had been the only two Camelotians left standing when the assault on the bandit group commenced, giving right to their positions within the fighting force.

“Your men have taken quite a few hits.” the young woman stated as the fire was finally on.

“You can say that.” Sir Leon said. “I don’t think we’ve ever encountered such vicious bandits before. Not even the bandits near our eastern border with Essetir fight like that.”

The Elmetian border patrol leader hummed. “Groups whose main recruits come from Mercia tend to be more vicious in their fighting styles. At least, according to what I’ve heard when I’ve spoken to people living in the border area of our Kingdoms.”

“Bayard’s Knights do tend to use quite some strength behind their blows.” the ginger commented.

Arthur looked at his fellow Royal. “Do you have any recommendations for us to deal with people like this the next time? My father does not approve of failure.”

“In order to take down bandit groups, you have to track them for a long time.” Muriel told. “You will need to constantly monitor their movements, meticulously map out where they are at which time of the day. Then, you can plan a time to take them down at a location they are most vulnerable to an attack.”

“My father won’t divert resources for that.” the young Prince sighed.

The Witch could only offer him a look of sympathy.

She was aware of King Uther Pendragon’s reputation as a ruler. The man was most famous for his no tolerance extremely strict anti-magic laws, but also his old-fashioned way of dealing with internal and external threats to his Kingdom.

And his son was a victim of that.

“Perhaps I could be of use regarding that matter.” the 17-year-old then offered.

The Pendragon heir frowned.

“I have already employed ways of monitoring the bandits active in Camelot’s Northern Plains. I can keep you up to date via pigeon or falcon.” the Elmetian Princess explained.

Camelot’s First Knight looked at his future monarch. “I prefer not to get killed the next time.”

The blonde took a deep breath. “Air mail is perhaps a good idea. My father needs to be kept out of the loop. He is a very… autocratic King.”

“That’s a fact I’m well aware off.” the young woman threw another log into the fire.

“One question… how do you monitor the bandit’s activities? Do you have people undercover in those groups?” the Crown Prince of Camelot asked with a raised eyebrow.

The border patrol leader smiled and whistled a particular tune into the night.

After a second or 3, a tiny creature screeched back, and a tiny Wyvern landed on the woman’s shoulder.

“A dragon?” Arthur asked.

“We have many of these little creatures flying around over Albion. From the land of the Picts to Tir Mor, the Isle of Mora, and the edges of Cornwall.” the Crown Princess of Elmet answered. “We like to know what our enemies are up to, it’s how we prepare our border defence.”

“How… do you communicate with them?” the blonde asked.

“Whistling signals. Of course, my father can actually talk to dragons as he is the Dragonlord, an ability I will inherit once he passes away.” Muriel replied.

“I wish we could talk to our falcons.” Sir Leon sighed, putting his lower jaw in his right hand.

The black-haired lady chuckled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she turned back to the Prince. “I’ll send you one of my falcons. You’ll find her sitting on your windowsill in five days, carrying a letter.”

“I’ll await her.” the future monarch of Camelot said. “It was good to meet you, despite the circumstances. And I am glad I did finally meet a sorceress who hasn’t committed evil.”

“Elmet has quite a lot of magical folk that don’t wish harm to come on anyone, and I wish everyone was like them.” the Princess cast her eyes to the forest soil.

“Have you met an evil sorcerer?” the ginger asked.

“Sadly, I have.” the Witch closed her eyes. “Her name was Nimueh. She sought refuge in Elmet after Camelot declared war on all magical things. My father gave her the asylum to live her life, but she was filled with this need for revenge against King Uther… when my father figured out how deep she was lost in that need, he attempted to ban her from Elmet. But Nimueh… she killed my youngest sister Gwenllian in her lashing out against my father.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” the Camelotian Crown Prince said with a sad look on his face.

The First Knight had a mournful expression as well.

“It happened seven years ago, almost to the day. A day does not pass me by without thinking about her. She didn’t possess magic, she was barely half a year old, she could never have defended herself against someone as powerful as Nimueh.”

“I hope you find her one day.”

The future Dragonlord took a deep breath. “I will not be able to defeat her right now, I have to grow stronger first. A High Priestess of the Old Religion is not easily defeated.”

Chapter Text

When Prince Arthur returned to Camelot with the Knights who survived after giving the fallen a proper Christian burial, he indeed found a falcon on his windowsill with a scroll in one of its claws.

Once he took the scroll, the bird made herself at home on top of the four-poster bed.

He let out a deep sigh before stepping back from the window and sitting down at his desk.

Dear Prince Pendragon,

I hope your journey back home was uneventful and boring, as that will mean you returned safely.

As I mentioned during the first night we spoke, I am willing to aid you in your quest to provide safety for all of your citizens by means of informing you about your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses so you will be able to prepare your men for battle to prevent mass casualties.

I do hope you will accept my help.

As a tiny side note, my father and I received reports by dragon from all over Camelot that magical activity has been on the rise. Though magic always spikes in spring and summer due to crop eating insects springing to life and spring being the season where love often emerges, the levels in Camelot are rising faster and higher than in other realms. I personally believe that the upcoming 20^th anniversary of King Uther’s magic ban might be a reason for the … rather alarming rise.

I will keep you up to date about this matter.

As for bandits, a fairly large group is currently active in Everwick. They crossed the border with Gwynedd at the end of winter. My people are mapping out their frequent routes, and are confident a successful attack could be launched by the end of this summer.

My falcon Gwyn likes to eat little red berries during the warmer seasons, but appreciates raw pieces of chicken as well. Also, keep her away from tiny shiny objects. She has a tendency to collect them. I once found her little nest full of pearl trinkets, golden rings, and golden broaches.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Kind wishes,

C. P. Dragonborn

The letter was signed in a way that it could not be traced back to the sender, which would make it harder for anyone to figure out that he was in contact with Princess Muriel.

The Prince of Camelot had heard of the Dragonborn family from the castle’s physician Gaius, who had practised the Old Religion back in the day when it was legal to aid the healing process for his patients.

Gaius had expressed admiration for the dedication that the family had towards Elmet, whose terrain frightened even the bravest men in all of Albion as the Kingdom’s lands were tied to the walking dead Fisher King who was awaiting the arrival of a powerful Dragonlord to release him.

Princess Muriel was to be the next Dragonlord, and she had spoken of growing into her powers.

The blonde silently reflected back on his meeting with the Princess from the North while his manservant Morris brought him a meal and started cleaning up. He’d felt strange yet almost relieved when she said he was nothing like she’d expected him to be. He could only guess what she’d heard about him from those little dragons which were everywhere, considering he behaved like his father wanted him to behave.

“Sire?” the scrawny dark-haired boy interrupted. “Are you alright? You’ve been very absent.”

“I lost a lot of good men in a single battle. I will soon have to hold new trials, they require planning.” the Pendragon heir stated. “Continue with your tasks, I wish to be in silence.”

“Of course, Sire.” and the young man left.

Arthur quickly grabbed an empty sheet of parchment.

Elmet’s primary castle was surrounded by miles of marshland, but the city stood upon a tall hill above.

The people of Elmet lived lives which commoners would live elsewhere in Albion, without the farming aspect as the land could not be farmed.

Men and full-grown Wyverns fished in the wet land around the city, and archers hunted birds.

Bread and other farming produce were not a commodity among the citizens, as it had to be imported from Deira or Rheged. Something which was a commodity, however, was gold, silver, and bronze.

Elmet’s coins were of iron, as its smithy products were for export.

Muriel looked out over the bustling city from the castle’s highest tower, as her room was at the peak. She was seated on the broad windowsill, a collection of Virgil’s poems on her lap as a familiar falcon approached her open window. She placed the book away and shuffled off of the windowsill.

Gwyn dropped a scroll of parchment with a red ribbon tying the scroll up, but she also dropped something else on the Princess’s bed.

The 17-year-old frowned and walked over to her bed to find that her messenger falcon had taken a silver broach shaped like a flower with peals as petals. She sighed deeply and gave her bird a look, placing the broach on her desk before picking up the letter.

Dear C. P.,

I am satisfied to hear that you wished for me to have a safe journey home.

The trip back was indeed very uneventful, but also incredibly silent. I think we all have suffered deep blows which hit more than just our noble Camelotian egos, as we lost friends and comrades.

This battle is one which will stay in our memories.

I have taken my time to think about your offer, despite the fact that I never needed that time.

I wish to be prepared the next time, I wish to know what I am facing before riding into battle. I am to lead my men fearlessly but riding into battle to face an unknown enemy makes me hesitate.

And if I hesitate, my men are doomed to die.

I accept any help you are willing to provide me to help understand the enemies I’m facing.

My father has been amping up the number of executions, and has actively encouraged those living outside the city to execute sorcerers by their own will. I do not doubt your reports of rising activity.

Many men and women are losing their heads at the hand of the axe-wielding executioner.

I tend to look at the crowds surrounding the execution platform instead of watching the actual event.

Though I have killed many in battle and hunted quite some wildlife big and small, seeing an axe chop off the head of a defenseless human being is something that even makes me sick. My father’s ward, the Lady Morgana, tends to retire to her rooms so she will not have to stand on the balcony above the scaffold.

Public executions are not something I do want to continue, unless making such a spectacle of death warrants the actual crime. Condemning people to death is bad enough.

Does Elmet even have public executions?

Kind wishes,

A. P.

Initials were easier to trace back, but this would have to do.

While holding the letter, the black-haired Lady walked over to her open window, looking towards the south where Elmet’s borders with Camelot were.

The lands of Camelot were calling to her, as Kilgharrah had foreseen years ago.

After all, she was Emrys, the prophesised greatest magician who ever walked the earth. Her destiny was intertwined with that of the Once and Future King… Arthur Pendragon.

And considering there was only one Arthur Pendragon known to the lands of Albion, the Prince of Camelot was the legendary Once and Future King.

Upon their meeting, the Crown Princess of Elmet had seen some good qualities in the Pendragon heir, but was aware that they both had to grow towards their destiny. Right now, they were rough diamonds.

“I will be joining you soon in Camelot.” the woman whispered to the empty room. “The time has come.”

She placed the letter on her own desk before sitting down behind it and writing a new one.

Dear A. P.,

I can confirm to you that Elmet has no true method of quick execution as you do. But what we do with those who have committed horrendous crimes such as treason, is sending them to the Dark Tower.

The Tower is guarded by Wyverns, and lies in a pit of sand. It is designed to make prisoners go mad, and slowly die that way under circumstances that are not circumstances any human should be living in. But this prison has remained there even since before the rule of the Fisher King, and thus also long before the Dragonlords came to Elmet.

It is a practise we have preserved over time.

Elmet has never been a land which had a thirst for blood, and we still do not have it.

I am glad you are willing to accept the offer I made to you. I already believed you would, as you are known to be a fierce defender of the Kingdom you serve. I can only call it an admirable quality for a future King.

The first information available to you will be about routes which the bandit group from Gwynedd, though it might not be extremely detailed just yet. But do not worry, my warriors and trackers are meticulous in their process and don’t like to stray from the path they have crafted for themselves.

It is frustrating at times, but ‘trusting the process’ is a sentence I’ve heard so many times over my life.

I can very well understand your father’s Ward. I would not be able to look at a beheading either, despite the fact that I have wielded a sword in battle as you have witnessed in the Northern Plains. I do mourn every day for the innocents which were lost in your father’s hateful Purge after your birth.

Albion has not been the same since, and the land of Camelot feels empty to me.

I hold faith that one day the vibrant feeling will return to your future Kingdom, when no innocent being ever has to fear for their life ever again. I hold faith in you, as the future King.

I know you have only ever known magic to be used against you, instead of aiding you.

It is something I dare to change when I enter Camelot again.

Kind Wishes,

C. P. Dragonborn

Chapter Text

Night had fallen on Albion like a blanket, and most inhabitants were sleeping.

A large draught horse, a black Shire, approached the large castle that was the city of Camelot from the north. It carried a rider with a tattered fluorescent green cape hiding their face.

Carrying the royal arms of Elmet on her bronze armour, Muriel looked at the white castle in the distance.

That citadel was where King Uther Pendragon’s court resided, the court she was going to infiltrate.

Her mother had sent a letter to Camelot’s court physician via falcon mail, announcing the arrival of her oldest daughter at the court. She’d arranged for Muriel to be the court physician’s assistant.

It was a prefect cover.

Every man and woman inhabiting Albion knew that Elmet’s oldest two Princesses possessed magic.

So, of course, the Crown Princess could not use her real identity.

It would simply be an inconvenience as she served a higher cause: protecting Arthur Pendragon.

Nimueh was planning her revenge once more, and she would stop at nothing to get that revenge which she craved since the moment she was driven out of Camelot’s lands.

But the Once and Future King had to live in order for a united Albion to exist.

So, Arthur Pendragon could not die prematurely.

King Balinor’s oldest daughter got off her horse. “You may go now, Clyde. You will know when you’re needed.” she said to him. She could not get discovered, which was likely if she rode into Camelot on Clyde’s back as commoners almost never owned horses such as Clyde unless they possessed large amounts of farmland or a large herd of livestock.

The stallion obviously didn’t agree with his rider’s decision to leave him in the forest, but he did slowly walk back onto the path they’d travelled since passing the village of Greenswood.

The Witch watched her trusted horse leave before casting her glance back to Camelot. She picked up the backpack she’d packed back in Elmet, and walked over the fallen leaves towards the entrance.

The court physician would probably not be hard to find.

Arthur was surprised to see Princess Muriel standing beside Gaius... in a commoner’s blue dress. Though he’d only seen her in those brown leathers, it felt weird knowing she was a Princess.

“Your Majesty, may I introduce my new assistant; Myrdina. She’s the oldest daughter of an old friend of mine.” the court physician said while Muriel curtsied elegantly to the King.

“I’m glad you finally decided to pass on your knowledge. Make sure she knows the etiquette for tonight.”

“But of course, Your Majesty.” the old physician said before taking the young Princess outside.

The Prince of Camelot side-eyed his father, seeing that familiar look.

That look of lust.

He looked away, not wanting to think about the implications.

He’d seen it often on his father’s face when he looked at naïve young women who had barely reached marriageable age. He had always been unable to prevent his father making yet another victim, but Muriel was accessible to him unlike all those other servant girls.

“I have some more paperwork to do, father. If I may be excused?” the 20-year-old suggested.

“You are not needed here anymore.” the King replied.

The Prince then left the throne room and went down to the physician’s chambers.

Gaius was packing a satchel with tonics as the Royal entered. “Your Highness.”

“Can I talk to Muriel for a second?” Arthur then asked, before realising that was not how the Elmetian had been introduced to court. He slapped a hand in front of his mouth.

“You two know each other?” the man with shoulder-length grey hair asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh... yeah.” the blonde scratched the back of his neck. “She and her border patrol group helped us defeat a particular nasty group of bandits in the Northern Plains.”

The court physician nodded. “She’s in the back room.” and he continued packing.

The Crown Prince let out a breath and walked over to the back room, knocking on the door.

Muriel soon opened. “Your Highness?”

“Gaius knows I know who you are. We can address each other informally when in private.”

The secret Princess looked over at Gaius and nodded. "Why are you here, though?”

“It’s perhaps something you’ll find disgusting, but my father likes to seduce young maidservants.”

And indeed, the Crown Princess pulled a disgusted face.

The future monarch offered her a sympathetic look. “I’ve never been able to warn any of those girls, as I never had access to them. I suppose that is because my father doesn’t want me to make the same mistake, or he wants them all to himself. I don't know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to stay out of his way. Thank you for warning me.”

“Anyway, why are you here?” Arthur asked.

“Nimueh.” the secret Witch replied. “She’s planning her revenge on your father, a revenge which can only be countered with magic as magic cannot be countered by a sword.”

The Prince slowly nodded. “I see. Be careful.”

“I have no other choice but to be careful.” Muriel said. She then looked over at Gaius. “I’m going on Gaius’s daily route. Anyone else I should avoid at all costs?”

“None of the Ladies at the court, though the Lady Morgana might pressure you in a session of dress-up.” the blonde replied. “That is up to you, whether you want to risk that.”

The Princess in disguise laughed. “My sisters and I have done that together multiple times.”

“Well, don’t say I didn't warn you.”

“Thank you. I'll see you tonight.”

------

Muriel was glad that Arthur warned her about his father.

She was aware that Kings had their occasional affairs with palace staff, both male and female.

But some of those Kings didn’t like hearing the word ‘no’ and would imprison or execute those who did not agree to sleep with them.

Though the marital laws of Elmet did not require a woman to be pure upon her wedding night, or to have given her virginity to the man a woman would marry, but her future husband could very well take offense to the fact that she was not pure.

The Princess was knocked out of her thoughts when Gaius placed a small sac and a tonic on the table in front of her. “Hollyhock and Feverfew for Lady Percival, and this is for Sir Olwin. He’s as blind as a weevil, so warn him not to take it all at once.”

“Alright.” she said before standing up and picking up the sac.

“What did Arthur say to you?” the elderly man asked.

The dark-haired woman cast her gaze to the floor. “To stay away from the King as far as possible.”

The court physician sighed. “That’s going to be rather difficult.”

“But not impossible.” the Elmetian stated. “I’m not willing to lose my head over this, and I don’t want to disappoint my father or whomever I will be marrying in the future.”

“I’ve known Uther for a long time.” the healer stated. “If he wants something, he gets it.”

“I’ll find a way to evade him. I have to. I don’t want to resort to magic to keep him away.”

After bringing away Gaius’s products, the Crown Princess of Elmet decided to walk around town and observe the citizens of Camelot as they were going about their daily lives.

Naturally, the place was different from the Lower Town of Elmet’s Fortress Palace.

Fresh produce was in abundance, as were the herbs Gaius needed to make his tinctures, and metal work seemed to be a rarity which was not surprising as there was only one blacksmith.

As Muriel was looking at the market’s products, which she noticed came from Deira, Northumbria, Gawant, Deorham, and Nemeth, she heard a commotion on the field nearby. She looked into that direction, only to see Prince Arthur hurl knives at a servant holding up a shield.

She shook her head in disappointment. She was disappointed because she knew the Prince had to act a certain way, despite the 20-year-old being a rather compassionate young man.

The Camelotian loved his people, even if they didn’t see that just yet.

The 17-year-old turned away from the commotion, walking back to where she came from as she continued looking at the products which were available on the market. Though she didn’t have any money on her that very moment, simply looking at things never hurt anybody.

Before everybody was to go to the feast, Muriel and Gaius did another medicinal round.

It brought the young woman to the Lady Morgana’s chambers, where she walked right into as the noble woman went behind her changing screen.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about Arthur. I wouldn’t touch him with a lance pole. Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?”

“I’m not Gwen, my Lady.” the Crown Princess of Elmet replied.

Lady Morgana came out from behind the screen. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No apologies required, my Lady.” the blue-eyed woman said before placing down the yellowish tincture on the other noble’s mirror table. “I’m just helping Gaius with his medicinal round.”

“Oh well. Could you still pass me that dress?” the King’s Ward asked.

“Certainly.” the Princess in disguise replied respectfully before carefully taking a very loose dress from a low cupboard and hung it over the dressing screen.

The older Lady stepped back behind it and started undressing. “Anyway, the man’s a total jouster. And just because I’m the King's ward, that doesn’t mean I have to accompany him to the feast, does it?”

“I suppose not. Though I wouldn’t really know about any of the customs in this citadel.” the Witch chuckled. “I’ve only been here since last night.”

“I’m glad you missed that horrible execution two days ago.”

The 17-year-old frowned. “Who was executed for what?”

“A farmer named Thomas Collins, he used magic on his crops.” the green-eyed woman answered.

“That’s… quite an innocent thing.” Muriel carefully said.

“It’s in moments like this that I don’t understand Uther.” Lady Morgana grabbed one of the gowns from her dressing screen. “I mean, he didn’t harm anybody!”

“That might be, but the King’s word is law.” the secret Princess stated. “And I have heard about magic spells which do definitely harm. I mean, necromancy is not beneficial to anyone.”

The older woman gasped. “That’s possible?”

“A lot of things are possible with magic. I’ve seen things happen in other Kingdoms, including Elmet.”

“I hear you’ve been around. Can you help me with this fastening?”

“Naturally.” and the younger Lady pulled on the strings at the dress’s back before fastening them.

Morgana turned around to face the ‘fake’ servant girl. “Where are you actually from?”

“Ealdor.” Emrys replied. “It’s a small village in Essetir. My mother was here at Camelot before she married my father, she studied under Gaius for a while which I’m doing now.”

“I think I’ll be seeing you around then.”

“That’s a likely assumption.”

It was then that a caramel-coloured girl entered the room. “My Lady?”

“Oh, Gwen! There you are. I was wondering where you were.”

“I guess that’s my cue to leave.” and the Elmetian began walking towards the door.

“May I at least have your name?” Lady Morgana requested.

The secret Witch turned her head. “Myrdina, my Lady.” and she left the chambers.

The feast would soon commence.

Courtiers were arriving one by one, dressed in their finest garments.

Though there were feasts at Elmet’s court, they were never as elaborate as this. Courtiers would still dress up, of course, but usually there was much less fanfare and glittering jewellery. But precious metals were scarce in Camelot, while it was in abundance in Elmet.

Muriel had decided to wear a very simple green gown, under which she wore visible white garments. It was a far cry from what she usually wore to events like this, as her mind was cast back to the banquet which had been held for her 17^th birthday.

For that event, she’d worn an off-shoulder green velvet dress with golden clasps at the front and a floral pattern in darker green decorating the entire dress. The sleeves had been form-fitting, with large pieces of fabric draping down from her elbows.

Akin, but not the same, as the deep red dress Lady Morgana was wearing as she walked into the room.

The Elmetian smiled.

That dress was most certainly an attention grabber.

Her younger sister Aeronwyn, who would soon be turning 15, also liked to dress in a way that would draw men’s attention now she was going steadily through her puberty phase.

“She looks great, doesn’t she?”

The Princess in disguise looked to her right to see Gwen next to her. “She most certainly does.”

“Some people are just born to be queen.” and the servant girl picked up a jug of wine.

“I suppose some Ladies are.” the young woman watched Arthur’s interaction with Morgana. “Though I am not convinced the two of them would ever marry.”

“Why not? I think they’d make a splendid pair.”

“I don’t think they’re interested in each other beyond a platonic way.” the Crown Princess of Elmet stated. “Though I do understand why you would think they could be a love couple.”

“Well, whoever will marry Arthur, I would not want to be them.”

The 17-year-old cast her eyes down to the floor. “He can be arrogant, though I’m sure there’s a good man inside of him. Arrogant Kings won’t rule for long.”

“I’m sure. Here, you can go around with this jug.” and Gwen handed her one.

------

“We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has brought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.”

Muriel flinched as those words were spoken and the noise of applause filled the room. She clasped her sweaty hands together as the King seated himself before the singer began her song.

Those words metaphorically stabbed her in the heart. She was magic itself, given an aging body.

As the young woman cast her eyes towards the Prince of Camelot she’d gotten to know since she saved him and several of his Knights from certain death, she noticed everyone on the head table had slumped back into their seats and that cobwebs were forming all over them.

‘The song!’ the Crown Princess of Elmet quickly realised and covered her ears.

Lady Helen’s gaze was concentrated on Arthur, and she had a knife.

The 17-year-old’s eyes searched around for something she could make fly or drop, her eyes finally setting on the heavy iron chandelier. Her eyes turned golden, and the iron chain broke.

It stopped the song, and everybody awoke from their magically induced slumber, muttering as they pulled the cobwebs off of their nice clothing items.

Both the King and the Prince stood up to see a now ancient woman on the floor beneath the chandelier.

The woman, whose face was marred and scarred, rose up far enough to throw one more knife.

Instinct kicked in for the Elmetian, and she magically slowed down time to pull the Once and Future King of Albion out of the firing line, causing Arthur to fall on top of the secret Witch.

The Helen imposter then completely collapsed beneath the chandelier, dead before her head hit the floor.

“You saved my son’s life.” the King of Camelot said as both Muriel and Arthur were standing again.

“I did what I felt my duty was, Your Majesty.” the secret Princess said, not looking the reigning monarch in the eye as she spoke.

“Nonsense! You showed admirable courage, an act which should be rewarded.” Uther bolstered. “For your courage, I shall award you a position in the Royal Household. You shall be my maidservant.”

“I... do not believe that would be appropriate.” Muriel stated, still refusing eye contact. “I have barely seen seventeen winters, and, to my knowledge, gossip runs rampant through Royal courts. Certain type of gossip would be detrimental to your reputation as monarch, and could be catastrophic to your dynasty. The only position I could accept without such rumours existing, is serving the Lady Morgana.”

Nobody else could spot it, but Arthur saw the 17-year-old's eyes flash golden as they were cast at the floor from the angle he was looking at her. He then looked at his father, whose eyes had glazed over.

“Then I will decide to appoint you as my Ward’s bodyguard.”

The hall broke out in loud clapping as those words were spoken.

Morgana looked pretty happy with the fact she now had a bodyguard, one that closely resembled her.

The Crown Prince also let out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding until that moment.

Gaius also looked relieved.

The King, on the other hand, looked confused.

In that situation, the future monarch of Camelot was glad that the secret witch had used magic in front of Camelot’s court. He knew about his father’s escapades with palace maidservants, especially the younger ones who were often even younger than Arthur was.

The coercive magic Muriel had used was perhaps something she would have to use again.

Uther often got what he wanted, and he didn't like the word no.

------

If there was one thing Uther Pendragon couldn’t stand, it was a lowly servant humiliating him.

Gaius’s assistant had somehow convinced him to assign her to Lady Morgana.

The King suspected sorcery to be at play, but he didn’t have any circumstantial evidence or real evidence apart from his hunch and the young woman’s unearthly beauty.

Chapter Text

It was time for Camelot’s yearly tournament, one where Knights from all over Albion flocked to Camelot’s castle to participate in sword duels where they would prove their strength and agility in formal combat.

Elmet didn't have such tournaments, though it did have magic competitions based on age and skill level which were held during midsummer and midwinter.

But they were designed in such a way that no injuries would be sustained by anyone.

With regular tournaments and jousting tournaments, this was not the case.

Muriel had been working for the Lady Morgana for 2 weeks when the first Knights arrived, and had witnessed servants rushing around to accommodate the often boisterously loud and rather arrogant men.

She was glad she did not have to perform such duties while in disguise, as it probably would’ve meant that she’d have to reveal herself in order to get away with everything she’d say to such a Knight.

Ever since her appointment, she’d steered clear of King Uther as much as possible. Instead, she spent time with Morgana in her quarters, helped Gaius make his tinctures, and watched Arthur train his Knights in the morning.

Also, Morgana had decided that her bodyguard could not wear regular commoner’s garb.

Instead, she’d directed the Princess to wear one of her older dark blue dresses which Gwen would tailor.

It partially brought out the Princess that she was, but there were more common ladies who would resemble a Princess when they were dressed as such and received products to look more regal.

The Elmetian now slept in a room on the Griffin landing instead of Gaius’s side chamber. She wasn’t only closer to Morgana, but also closer to Arthur.

It was key that she’d be able to protect Arthur, as that was the mission she had ridden to Camelot for.

Prince Arthur was the prophesised Once and Future King of Albion. If he died prematurely, Albion would most certainly fall to the invading Saxons and Jutes who came from the mainland.

Man and magic would attempt to kill Arthur, which is why she went in disguise to Camelot.

Her father, King Balinor, and her mother, Queen Hunith, had not been happy that she’d decided to go herself instead of sending an experienced warrior-bodyguard for the mission.

But after consulting both the Fisher King and Kilgharrah the Great Dragon, the Crown Princess of Elmet knew she had to do it herself in order to grow into her magic.

She was to be Lady Emrys, the living and breathing embodiment of magic itself, more powerful than any High Priestess who had ever walked Earth’s soil.

Dressed in her now tailored dark blue gown with gold thread, Muriel looked out of her bedroom window only to see a broad-shouldered Knight dressed in yellow riding into Camelot’s citadel.

There were 3 green snakes on his shield.

The man’s horse was taken by one of the stable boys, and he then removed his helmet to reveal his face.

Immediately, the Princess in disguise turned away from the window as she felt a bad energy radiating from that Knight in yellow. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath to calm herself down.

Anyway, Morgana was expecting her soon.

All the participating Knights were lined up on the tournament field as nobles and commoners filled the wooden stands surrounding the sandy pit.

Muriel sat together with Morgana and Gwen, whose full name was Guinevere. Her companions were far more excited for the fights to begin than she was.

“Knights of the realm, it’s a great honour to welcome you to a tournament at Camelot. Over the next three days, you will come to put your bravery to the test, your skills as warriors, and of course, to challenge the reigning champion, my son, Prince Arthur. Only one can have the honour of being crowned champion, and he will receive a prize of 1,000 gold pieces.” the King announced.

The Castle’s treasurer opened a box, revealing the golden coins.

“It is in combat that we learn a knight’s true nature, whether he is indeed a warrior or a coward. The tournament begins!” as the announcement ended, the crowd cheered, and all but 2 knights exited.

The Knights who did not exit were Arthur and his first opponent of the tournament, as they were the opening act.

The Crown Princess of Elmet would observe the Knights in their fights.

Naturally, she did watch Arthur closely considering she would have to work with him for as long as he’d face potential fatal dangers related to battle or magic. But her eyes were trained on Valiant.

The man was very aggressive in the way he fought, which reminded her of Mercian bandits.

It was not a style she sincerely enjoyed, though Morgana did seem to like the yellow clad Knight.

The Prince of Camelot moved with grace, gaining the upper hand through actual skill rather than brutal force. He was a man who fought with honour, and not… however Valiant was fighting.

Because she’d been beside Morgana and Gwen the entire day, the Princess in disguise had not been able to talk to the Camelotian until that very evening when all the Knights met with the King.

“Knight Valiant of the Western Isles, My Lord.” the yellow clad Knight introduced himself.

Muriel frowned. Though Elmet didn’t deal with the Highlanders, she did know about the coat of arms the men of the North carried. She had never seen a yellow crest with 3 serpents.

It made her suspicion grow.

“I saw you fighting today. You have a very aggressive style.”

“Well, as My Lord said, ‘To lose is to be disgraced’.”

The secret Princess rolled her eyes. She knew such a thing would naturally flatter King Uther.

“I couldn’t agree more. Knight Valiant, may I present the Lady Morgana, my ward.”

Valiant bowed to kiss Morgana’s hand. “My Lady.”

“I saw you competing today.” the green-eyed woman mentioned.

The brute smiled in what the secret Witch thought was a creepy manner. “I saw you watching. I understand the tournament champion has the honour of escorting My Lady to the feast.”

“That’s correct.” of course the Lady would not pick up on the bad vibe.

“Then I will give everything to win the tournament.”

That was apparently something Morgana was quite interested in.

The Elmetian stepped forward. “As the Lady’s bodyguard, I will have to inform you that there is a certain penalty if you lay your hands on her in a way a Knight is not supposed to.” she let him catch a glimpse of the daggers which she carried on her hip by pushing away the cloak fabric.

The man who was supposedly from the Western Isles flinched ever so slightly. “But of course, Madam.” He then bowed and left to speak with Knights who’d stood in front of him in the que.

The daughter of Gorlois shot a glare at the younger woman who’d been appointed as her bodyguard while Gwen turned her head away with one hand covering her mouth.

The Crown Princess of Elmet simply raised an eyebrow.

It soon became Arthur’s turn.

“Arthur.” the King greeted his son.

“Father.” the Prince said back. He glanced over to the trio of women before walking on.

Muriel stepped back and left Morgana and Gwen beside the King. “Everyone seems rather impressed by Knight Valiant.” she mentioned as she stood beside the Prince.

“I am aware.” the blonde grunted.

“If it is any consolation, I do not like the man either.” the secret Witch stated. “He freaks me out.”

The 20-year-old turned his head and frowned. “He freaks you out? You, a sorceress?”

The young woman shushed him. “Anybody can learn the art of lip reading, be careful. But yes, there’s just something about him that… doesn’t feel right.”

“Are you suspecting… bad magic?” the Crown Prince whispered.

“Could be, I’m not ruling it out. But I’m not jumping to conclusions either.”

Arthur hummed. “If he continues to fight like he does, there’s a chance I’ll be facing him in the final.”

The Elmetian turned her gaze to the group of Knights where Valiant was standing. “I think I may pay a visit to the armoury, to make sure everything is in place.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Nothing illegal, just a quick check.”

The Princess in disguise managed to get into the armoury without being seen, with some help from a ‘notice me not’ spell.

Naturally, the place was rather dark as only a few strands of moonlight entered through the cracks.

Armour belonging to Knights of Camelot who were not participating had been removed to make way for chainmail and armour belonging to the competing Knights from all over Albion.

Slowly, the secret Witch glided through the armoury in search of the unfamiliar yellow shield. She did recognize every other crest decorating the shields which were present.

Suddenly, she heard hissing.

Muriel pulled a dagger from her belt, holding it ready to attack whatever hissed as she approached the yellow shield which was standing on the floor.

The hiss could be heard again, but now the 17-year-old was sure about it.

The snakes on Valiant’s shield could turn into actual venomous snakes, through animated magic.

The Crown Princess of Elmet took a deep breath before she whispered a spell. “Bebay odothay arisan quickum.” and her eyes flashed golden.

Three snakes arose from the wood, hissing at the one who disturbed their rest.

In one swift move, the blue-eyed young woman beheaded the 3 snakes, the little heads falling on the floor as the bodies turned limp.

The Elmetian smirked and picked up one snake head which she hid in a pocket of her cloak. She would leave the other serpent remains behind for Valiant to find in the morning.

At least now the man would not be able to cheat and potentially cause a death just to win the Lady Morgana’s affection and escort her to the post-tournament feast.

Casting yet another ‘notice me not’ spell, the secret Princess slipped out of the armoury and back into the throne room with only Prince Arthur knowing she’d left.

Not even Guinevere seemed to have noticed, and she was pretty perceptive.

Before going to the tournament grounds, the Ward’s bodyguard watched all the Knights from the shadows of a pillar as they exited the armoury.

All of them seemed to be in high spirits and ready for what the day would bring… except Valiant.

The man from the Western Isles had turned pale in the face, his blueish eyes gone wide with an emotion resembling shock, he looked already defeated.

Muriel smiled to herself as she took in the sight of a man who’d felt invincible just a day earlier. She closed her eyes and left the men to their own devices as she went to join Morgana and Gwen in the stands.

“You still look like a Princess.” a familiar voice stated as the secret Witch just passed a niche in the long white corridor which would lead to a service entrance.

The blackhead stopped in her tracks and turned. “Are you not supposed to be somewhere else?”

Prince Arthur stepped out of the niche, already dressed in full armour complete with cape. “You never told me what you did last night.”

“I made sure Knight Valiant would not be able to cheat. I animated the snakes and cut their heads off. I still have one of the heads in my rooms, in a jar.” the Elmetian stated. “Why are you here and not in your tent? Were you following me?”

“You may not know it, Muriel, but many men who are present today consider you to be a beautiful woman. Though I have no doubt you would be able to defend yourself against them, my father would still believe a Knight’s word over a servant’s.”

“I am not one hundred percent oblivious to the fact I have some effect on men.” the Princess in disguise pulled on the fur-lined cloak she was wearing (it was one Morgana had lent to her for the day). “I simply prefer to ignore unwanted attention.”

“I’m simply worried.” the blonde stated, leaning against the white wall with one shoulder.

The 17-year-old nodded. “Which I understand and appreciate. But I’ll be fine. I can erase memories should that be necessary, if that soothes your mind.”

“I suppose it helps slightly.” the Camelotian stated.

“Make sure you get to the final.” and Muriel made her way down to the tournament grounds.

And Arthur would make it to the final.

But the battle to decide the Crown Prince’s final opponent was still going on.

Knight Valiant was fighting against one of Camelot’s own who was representing his own family during this particular tournament; Sir Ewan.

The man supposedly from the Western Isles was relying on his strength and brutal force alone.

Sir Ewan had definitely picked up some attributes of Arthur’s fighting style, being as light on his feet as he possibly could be while trotting around in a sandy pit.

The young woman lifted her hands to her hairline, supposedly to block out the sun. But instead, it was to block anyone from seeing how her eyes flashed golden.

The magic spell she’d cast made Valiant trip and fall onto his back as he was attempting to block an attack from Sir Ewan. With his fall, his sword and shield were released from his grip.

Sir Ewan simply pointed his sword to Valiant’s chest as loud cheers erupted from the spectating crowd.

The secret Princess just smirked as the Camelotian Knight lifted his sword up in the air and acknowledged the crowd that was cheering for him. She almost missed the vengeful snarl that was on the yellow clad Knight’s face as he grabbed his sword and attacked the Knight in purple.

“Guards!” Uther yelled out as the man from the Western Isles kept aiming for Sir Ewan’s head.

Many worried gasps could be heard from the stands.

‘Real Knights don’t behave like that.’ the Crown Princess of Elmet thought as she stood up and pulled out a dagger from her belt. She needed Ewan to get away from Valiant, something which happened when Sir Ewan used all his strength to get the broader man away from him.

She thew the dagger, piercing Valiant’s chest.

The man in yellow coughed up blood, and went totally still after a few more body spasms.

Soon enough, Gaius was in the sandy pit together with the guards encircling the dead body which would soon be laid upon a stretcher covered by a white blanket.

Morgana then gripped her bodyguard’s arm. “Thank you for saving Sir Ewan’s life.”

“It’s the least I could do.” Muriel said. “Though I will have to confess I did not quite trust Knight Valiant from the moment he rode into Camelot.”

“Perhaps I should not have been blinded by him so easily.”

“It is nowhere near your fault. You’ve been surrounded by honourable men your entire life, you had no reason to question his intentions.” the secret Witch sat down again. “Bandit raids and other pesky criminal activity were quite frequent where I come from. It makes you more wary.”

“I suppose it does.” the green-eyed woman still had a guilty expression on her face.

“Perhaps you should start thinking about that dress you’re going to wear tomorrow.” the younger Lady suggested. “Or did you and Gwen already pick something?”

Arthur was very glad Valiant lost the fight, and that he died. He would not have looked forward to it.

At least he knew Sir Ewan would fight with honour in the battle they would have.

He would not have to potentially fear for his life, nor about Morgana’s life as now she would be escorted to the feast by either him or Sir Ewan, and he did trust another one of his Knights with his father’s ward.

Chapter Text

“Why are we even meeting here?”

The Elmetian shot her companion a look. “I told you, there’s a higher chance we’ll be overheard or seen by servants who might not interpret this meeting as something it is not and alarm your father. And I have absolutely zero interest in landing on a pyre or being banished.”

Arthur grimaced. He too knew the consequences they risked by meeting so secretly.

His father would see any non-noblewoman as a threat to his chances of arranging a political marriage, and thus either accuse them of witchcraft or banish them from Camelot. Though Muriel was a Princess (the Crown Princess of a magical kingdom), this was not known to the court.

“Right. So, what are we talking about today?”

“I’ve received reports from my border patrol. They’re ready to launch an attack on the bandit group who came from Cearleon’s Kingdom which I told you about before I came here.”

The Camelotian nodded. “My father doesn’t seem to care about Everwick very much, unless Cearleon decides to take parts of Camelot for himself.”

“That’s something I already suspected.” Muriel said. “Otherwise, a party of Knights would’ve been sent out when reports came in.”

“You’ve been looking through my stuff?”

The secret Witch shook her head. “I’ve been helping Geoffrey with some filing when I’m not anywhere near Morgana, to avoid your father as you said I should.”

The Prince nodded. He had indeed said that, and he was glad she’d heeded his warning.

“So, the attack will probably be launched somewhere next week when the bandits will be moving closer to the Fortress of Idrisholas with another batch of stolen supplies. My warriors will be moving across the Northern Plains during the darkest hours, to prevent many people from seeing them and attempt to sound any kind of alarm. Then, at daybreak, they’ll attack the bandit’s camp when they’re still mostly sleeping. They don’t seem to have many men up during the night for some reason, so it’s a perfect…”

The pair was interrupted.

A man with supple strands of brown hair reaching down to about the height of his chin came running towards them. “Run! Run!” he yelled at them.

At first, neither Royal understood where to run from, until they saw a big animal with wings come after the man who just warned them.

“Oh fuck!” the magical Princess quickly grabbed the hem of her dark blue dress with her left hand, and Arthur’s arm with her right before starting to run.

The Crown Prince of Camelot had blinked when he saw the beast, but ran as fast as his feet would take him. Of course, his fellow Royal had grabbed his arm when she had started to run too. “What is that thing?!” he yelled.

“A Griffin!” the Elmetian yelled back. “Quick! Get behind that fallen tree!”

All three of them dove over the fallen oak, falling on the ground while the beast flew right over them.

It did not turn around to attack them.

The blonde let out a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in my entire life.”

“That’s because they’re not supposed to live here.” the dark-haired woman said before turning her head to the left towards the man who had warned them. “Are you alright?”

“Slightly dizzy.” and the unknown man passed out.

Arthur sighed. “I’ll carry him.”

“To the horses, yes.” and the Crown Princess stood up.

“The wound itself is superficial. The fever will pass. He should be fine in the morning.” Gaius told.

The pair of Royal heirs had made it back to the citadel with the traveller.

Muriel had gone through the gates first, with the unconscious stranger on the back of the horse which Morgana had gifted to her as a reward for her service. This to ensure that the traveller could be brought to Gaius as quick as possible.

Arthur had followed a little behind, having caught a few rabbits in the meantime. He almost had no time to get off his horse, as his father wanted to talk to him immediately.

“That sounds good.” the Royal in disguise said. She then sighed. “This is even the first time I’m seeing a Griffin. I’ve only ever seen them in old drawings.”

The healer’s eyebrows knitted together. “They have never believed to be real, only mentioned in myth.”

“There are many magical creatures being perceived as mythological, even though they are as real as we are.” the 17-year-old stated. “I do wonder… Griffins don’t tend to leave their enclosed environments. Unless… we have encountered a conjured specimen.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” the elderly man said.

The Elmetian Crown Princess nodded. “One needs powerful magic to conjure such a creature. Only a High Priestess of the Old Religion could have done this, and we know that the ones who may have survived the purge are out for Uther’s blood.”

The old sorcerer had a worried look on his face. “That prospect is not good.”

“Anything but, as a matter of fact. However, we do not know how many survived the attack on their castle that stood upon the Isle of the Blessed. Must be at least one.” the young woman stated.

The former magic user looked up at his apprentice. “Will you tell Arthur?”

“I will tell him what is necessary to defeat the beast, which I guess the King will order him to do.” the dark-haired woman said. “I won’t tell him about the High Priestesses just yet. Perhaps when that information becomes necessary for whatever reason.”

“Do you think your friendship will sustain the test of time? You’re keeping quite some secrets from him, after all.” Gaius stated, his thick grey eyebrows knitted together.

The Dragonborn sighed. “Arthur is still the King’s son. Though he has accepted my magic as having the ability to protect, the harm it can do will be in the back of his mind. I have no way of knowing what he really believes with regards to magic, I cannot know whether I have convinced him that it is not always used to harm another.”

“That road will be incredibly long, especially for Arthur and people around his age. The new generation only knows the anti-sorcery laws, and people my age are dying every day.” the physician said.

Muriel nodded. “I’m quite aware.” she looked out of the window.

“Are you going to tell me how you found him?” the elderly man questioned.

Another sigh left the Princess’s throat. “I was talking to Arthur about a few things that have been going on near the Camelotian border with Elmet. Bandit raids, to be precise, and how my warriors will ambush them on their way to their headquarters in Everwick. We were interrupted by him, yelling that we had to leave. We then saw that he was being chased by the Griffin. He collapsed after we hid behind a fallen tree.”

“I see.” the healer mumbled. “The pair of you were careful?”

“Of course we were. We exited Camelot separately and we entered separately.” the secret Royal said. “I made sure we met in a piece of the woods most would avoid due to the thick bush. I know exactly how it will look like if we’re seen together, even though I did not grow up in a regular kingdom.”

The grey-haired man nodded. “Good. I’d hate to see you banished.”

“I cannot protect Arthur and this kingdom if I am.” the Elmetian admitted. “It is my preference to remain here, at least until he becomes King. Then it will be safe for me to reveal my identity and we can establish an amicable relationship between our two dynasties.” she side-eyed the medicine man. “Do. Not give me that look. At this moment we are solely united in stopping the bandits from murdering innocents.”

“Common goals mean common ground. Strong marriages, even those originating from a political alliance, are built on common ground.”

The Crown Princess rolled her eyes. “It is rare for the Crown Prince of one land to marry the Crown Princess of another. It would be more advisable for Sybil to marry Arthur in the future.”

“That would unlikely have the same impact.” the former sorcerer mentioned.

“It is ill advised to combine Camelot and Elmet into one Kingdom. Both Kingdoms have different Succession Laws, the people are different, and the culture is different.” the young woman said. “Were Arthur and I to marry, we would need to have several children. It is not guaranteed that we are both fertile enough to accomplish that, nor is it guaranteed that I will have a magical firstborn who is also male.”

“You have several younger sisters.”

“Of which only Sybil possesses a strong degree of magic. However, mine is stronger.”

The Camelotian man hummed. “Give it some thought. I’m sure you’ll be here for a few years.”

Muriel sighed. “That really depends on the frequency of these attempts to kill the King.” she pulled a face. “Then there is the fact that I have to avoid that man when not in appropriate male company.”

“Arthur told you that, didn’t he?”

“He did.” the dark-haired lady looked out of the window. “He’s correct. Uther Pendragon is a man I have to avoid at all costs, and not just because I have magic.”

Gaius understood. He lowered his head a little.

The Elmetian carried breakfast to the infirmary for the unknown brunet male. She found him awake in the bed. “I see you have awoken. How are you feeling?”

“Little sore.” the man answered. “But I don’t think that should be a surprise.”

“Considering you were wounded by that beast? Not at all.” the woman placed the tray down on the bedcovers. “You will need sufficient nutrition to heal well.” she took a deep breath. “Thank you, for warning me and my companion. Not every man would have done the same.”

The dark-haired male nodded. “It is my pleasure, My Lady.”

“That style is reserved for the women of noble blood, Sir.” Muriel said. “I’m Myrdina, assistant to the court physician of Camelot.”

“Lancelot.” the now formerly unnamed man said. “I am in Camelot?”

The Royal in disguise nodded. “You are. Was this city your destination?”

“It was!” Lancelot said. “Ever since I was a child, I’ve dreamed of coming here. It’s my life’s ambition to join the knights of Camelot. I know what you’re thinking, I... I expect too much. After all, who am I? They have their pick of the best and bravest in the land.”

The 17-year-old smiled. “You are a man who thinks of others. That would be a good quality for a Knight. I know the Crown Prince is looking for new men, but he probably has a few rules. I’ll ask around for you.”

“Thank you.” the brunet said.

“So, where are you from, Lancelot?” the secret Princess asked as she checked the bandaging.

“A village in the Andor province, but I have no family to speak of. I have been roaming around since they were murdered by bandits.” the slightly tanned man replied. “I swore to never be defenceless.”

The dark-haired woman smiled. Had they been in Elmet, she would have petitioned with her father to make the man one of her warriors. But they were in Camelot, and there would be different rules. “That is a strong motivation indeed.”

“Did you always dream of being a physician’s assistant?” Lancelot questioned.

The eldest daughter of King Balinor shook her head. “No. I just rolled into this. My mother was the physician’s apprentice before. She and my father believed I’d be safer here.”

“A woman with your striking appearance will likely be a prey for bandits.”

“That would not be unthinkable. Kidnappings of young girls is quite common in Essetir.” the Crown Princess stated. “I suppose I should be thankful that I was never spotted.” she then stood up. “I will leave you in peace to eat your breakfast. I will begin my inquiry.” and she left.

Considering she was a staff member of the Pendragon household as Lady Morgana’s bodyguard and the physician’s apprentice, no one would really question why she went where she went. Her positions came with quite some freedoms. Still, she had to be careful to not be spotted alone with a man (those of notable standing, at least, for as she was perceived to be of common blood).

On her way to the Crown Prince’s chambers, Muriel found the personal manservant carrying washed linnen. “Just came back from the laundry, I presume.”

Morris nodded. “I did! His Highness truly likes fresh sheets.”

“That would be in-character for a high-born nobleman.” the secret Royal said with a little snark in her voice. “Do you perhaps know where I would be able to find the Prince? I have a question for him.”

“He was in his chambers when I came to get the laundry. But you could certainly walk with me.”

The 17-year-old hummed. “Sounds like an idea. Shall we?”

The curly-haired boy quickly nodded, and the pair started walking through the hallway. After a little pause, he turned his head slightly to the woman he was walking next to. “How is it? Working two jobs, I mean.”

“Both have a demand, but I can juggle.” the Princess in disguise said. “I have experienced far worse at home, when several duties of mine clashed with each other.”

“I heard you were from Essetir.”

“That would be correct.” the blue-eyed woman said. “I presume you are more local?”

Arthur’s manservant nodded. “I grew up here, in Camelot. I’ve never been far beyond the city walls.”

“I didn’t leave Ealdor much either, before my mother arranged for me to come here.” the Elmetian said. She’d have to keep up the lie at least until King Uther’s death, with only Arthur, Sir Leon, and Gaius knowing her true identity. “Does your entire family live here?”

“They do. My parents were happy when I told them about my new position, as it allowed them to buy better food for my two younger sisters.” the local boy said. “Were your parents proud too? I heard from the laundry staff you’re from a big family.”

“The eldest of seven sisters.” the Dragonborn dynast said. “However, my family has a uhm… less than favourable opinion of the Pendragon dynasty.”

Morris blinked. “How come?”

“My parents lived in Camelot before the purge happened twenty years ago. They did not quite agree with all of that, so they moved to the village my mother came from.” the Crown Princess answered.

“I guess that’s for the best then.” the curly-haired boy said as they rounded a corner. “We’re almost there. Will you wait on the doorstep?”

The young woman nodded. “That seems appropriate.”

They arrived at the door to the Prince’s chambers, which the manservant opened.

Arthur was indeed there, sitting behind his desk. He looked up when the door swung open. “Ah, well-timed Morris. I am soon due on the training field.” he then noticed his Elmetian counterpart. “Myrdina?”

“I came here to ask a question.” Muriel stated. “Well, rather a question from the man I found in the woods. It is his desire to become a Knight of Camelot, but I am unaware whether he is eligible.”

“Is he a nobleman?” the light blonde asked.

“From the information he gave me, I guess he is not.” the Princess raised an eyebrow. “It is a requirement for aspiring Knights to be of noble blood?”

The Camelotian nodded. “They’re my father’s requirements.”

“A shame.” the dark-haired lady said. “But I suppose I will find another option for him.”

Though the Crown Prince of Camelot didn’t always agree with his father’s laws, he had to adhere to them.

It was cruel for dreams to be crushed before they could even begin, but this was not something he could yet do something about. He was still only a Crown Prince.

With a slightly heavy heart, Arthur made his way to the training fields for a morning sparring session. He did see his knights there, but they were watching a pair of people spar on their own. That made him frown.

As he came closer and closer, looking over a couple of men’s shoulders, he could see the Crown Princess of Elmet clashing swords with the man who had warned them about the Griffin.

It was clear that his Elmetian counterpart had quickly changed into a simple green outfit of trousers and a tunic, leather braces and belts protecting certain areas from unintentional injuries. She was seemingly unphased by the crowd the pair of them had drawn, she was focused on her sparring session.

The young woman’s sparring partner, however, seemed a little hesitant to attack. Likely a little uncomfortable with the thought of fighting a woman. Not all men had no quarrel attacking a lady.

“Shame we cannot add Myrdina to our group.” Sir Leon commented to his commander as the Prince had finally made his way to the front. “She’s good.”

“I can see that.” the blonde said, his eyes tracking the woman’s footwork.

Her stance was exactly right, not a moment out of place and no need for adjustment. She had perfect balance, and knew exactly how to distribute the weight in her tiny frame. It was quite clear to an observing eye that she had been trained by professional swordsmen, probably from the moment she could hold a wooden training sword.

That was rather normal for any heir to a throne.

It did worry the Camelotian a little, that someone would figure out that Muriel was a noblewoman and oust her presence to his father who would without a doubt want ‘private dinner’. It feared him greatly, as it would undoubtedly force the Princess to use her magic to escape Uther’s advances.

“How long have they been sparring?” Arthur asked.

“About five times turning an hourglass.” the First Knight answered.

That would indicate the pair are fairly well matched.

“Our guest is not a nobleman, but he is far better than most trail candidates I have had.” the Prince mentioned. “Shame, really.”

The red-haired man turned his head to the future monarch. “Someone could take him on as a squire.”

“That is not a bad idea.” the Crown Prince said. “Would you take that duty upon you?”

“I’d be honoured.” the blood noble answered.

Not much longer after that, the Elmetian decided to end the fight. She used her left shoulder and left upper arm to knock the brunet down on the ground. With a sword pointed at the man’s chest, she slightly turned her head to all the Knights of Camelot. “I hope you guys enjoyed the show.” she then planted the sword in the soil before offering a hand to her fallen sparring partner.

‘So, this was all intentional.’ the blonde thought slightly disapproving.

Before she left Muriel than gave the man they’d seen in the woods a look, causing the Prince to feel… jealous? It was not something that he had felt before.

Leon then decided to approach the unknown man. “Both you and your sparring partner look like good fighters. You may not be a nobleman, but you have skill. Would it interest you to become my squire?”

“I am honoured, Sir.” the brunet said. “My name is Lancelot.”

“Mine is Leon. Now, shall we begin?”

Muriel watched the training fields from one of the windows with a light smirk.

Lance would be as close to a knight as he could be without being a nobleman. He would be able to train and hone his swordsmanship properly, allowing him to have a chance in the future to actually become a full-blown Knight during Arthur’s reign.

Despite having known the Camelotian Crown Prince for such a short time, she did see a strong sense of justice in him even though he might be a little naïve. But she would coax that naivety out of him in due course, as more and more was going to happen in the nearby future.

Magic was still flaring up in Camelot despite all the executions that were happening. And considering there was now a Griffin on the loose, it was definitely not only humans causing that flare-up.

Once the Princess heard footsteps behind her, she quickly hurried to a more bustling spot of the citadel. She didn’t want to risk the King finding her alone.

There would be too much at stake, should that happen.

In the end, the dark-haired woman decided to go back to her room in Gaius’s quarters and read through the spell book the old man had given her upon her arrival to search for something that could aid in a potential confrontation with the Griffin.

She too didn’t like to be defenceless against anything.

The 17-year-old was still flipping through the book when Gaius came back.

“I see our former patient is up and running again.” the elderly man said.

“Of course he is. You know that men like that can’t sit still for too long.” and the blue-eyed woman turned back to the book. “Do you know anything more about Griffins?”

The court physician took a deep breath. “Only that they cannot be killed with mortal steel.”

“That will be a big problem if the Knights are sent out.” the witch said.

“That is true indeed.” the Camelotian said. “I just came back from a council meeting. The Griffin has been edging closer and closer to the Citadel. It won’t be long before the Knights will ride out.”

The Crown Princess let out a sigh. “Hell. That’s an even worse prospect then I thought we had.”

The healer hummed. “I may have some more books that could help us.”

“Anything to help is welcome.”

“We might be disturbed. People from attacked villages are flocking to the city.”

Muriel nodded.

They’d have to work quickly to prevent anyone from seeing what they were doing.

Once off the training fields, the King had requested his presence.

Arthur had sighed but went to the throne room after changing out of his armour.

While walking through the hallways, they had talked about what had been said in the council meeting Uther had that morning. That was, until they stopped to look out of a window down at the square where wounded individuals were seated on crates to receive attention from the court physician and his assistant.

“I’d hunt this thing down if I could, but I cannot track a creature through the air.” the blonde said.

“You don’t have to track it. First Greenswood, then Willowdale. The creature’s heading south, towards the mouth of the valley.” the middle-aged man said.

“To Camelot.” the Prince whispered.

“You must prepare your knights, Arthur.”

“Have faith, Father. We’ll be ready.” the future monarch had no idea how he was going to do it. How did one kill such a creature anyway. Perhaps he should make his way to the physician’s chambers.

After all, Gaius knew stuff.

The 20-year-old made his way down the stairs towards the rooms belonging to the long-serving court physician, who had always lived there since he first stepped foot in the Camelotian citadel.

There was only one staircase and hallway leading to Gaius’s chambers.

He’d been in those rooms multiple times throughout his life as he’d sustained both major and minor injuries since the moment he could crawl. If he believed some accounts, he had been a menace.

The blonde opened the wooden door to the physician’s chambers, which were as always a big mess.

Books were lying around on tables, pots were stacked on top of each other, the bedding was messy, and labelled vails with herbs were standing everywhere and nowhere.

Arthur sat down at the table, rubbing his upper thighs, when something in an open book caught his eye.

There was a drawing of the creature he’d seen Lancelot running from.

‘The Griffin’ was the title of the page.

‘The griffin, griffon, or gryphon is a legendary creature with the body, tail, and back legs of a lion, and the head and wings of an eagle with its talons on the front legs. Because the lion is considered to be the king of the beasts, and the eagle the king of the birds, the griffin is thought to be an especially powerful and majestic creature. In some tales, griffins guard treasures and priceless possessions. This creature is heavily featured in Greek, Roman, and Persian tales of lore as well as considered sacred. Their origin has long been unknown, but it is a creature conjured by exceptionally powerful magic.’

The Prince shuddered as he read the article.

‘When one encounters an aggravated griffin, life is almost always lost. Griffins cannot be defeated by unenchanted steel objects. Only weapons burnished by an ancient dragon, or a weapon enchanted by a strong sorcerer can penetrate the creature’s thick hide.’

“My father will not be happy with this.” the blonde murmured.

Uther was in general not happy with things that included magic. In the Crown Prince’s mind, his father had always been like that though the crusade against magic had not happened until shortly after his birth.

As the young man was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the door open up.

“Your Highness, what are you doing here?” the court physician asked as he entered.

“Waiting for you, to ask about this creature I’ll be facing.” the 20-year-old said, tracing the old paper on which the article was written. “Looks like you’ve been researching it too.”

Gaius nodded. “I have. It’s not looking good I’m afraid.”

“Will it be certain death?” the Prince inquired.

“Only if we cannot enchant one of the weapons.” the elderly man said. “Magic is our only hope.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “Tell Muriel to ride after us. We’re departing at dawn.”

“I will inform her.”

Muriel did ride after the Knights, calling upon her trusted steed Clyde to stay close to the men. She kept repeating the spell in her mind over and over, she couldn’t lose it. Not now she was getting closer. She had to do this for the son of one of her worst enemies, the young man prophesised to unite all of Albion.

When she arrived, all the Knights were scattered on the path’s ground, the griffin charging.

Without even uttering a spell, the Princess shot a bolt to the ground before the creature, scaring it. She then got off her horse and approached the unconscious men. She knelt down at Arthur’s side. “Wake up.” she muttered, and slapped twice on his cheek.

The blonde winced as he opened his blue eyes. “Ouch.”

“That griffin is going to return soon, you need to get up.” the Witch said.

The warrior grabbed onto the young woman’s hand. “Alright. But most of our weapons are shattered.”

That was when the Elmetian handed her counterpart a lance. “That’s why I brought this. You’re also going to need a horse. Go sit on Clyde’s back.”

“Who’s Clyde?” the Crown Prince questioned just before a big black draught horse stood in front of him.

“That’s Clyde.” the dark-haired woman said. “Now, get on.”

The 20-year-old took a breath, placed his left foot in the stirrups and swung his right leg over the horse’s back and into the leather saddle. He then took the spear from the younger Royal. “Here goes nothing.”

“It’s not a death sentence.” her blue eyes turned back to the griffin, who had returned. “Get ready.”

The Camelotian took another deep breath and steered the horse into a gallop to charge.

“Bregdan anweald gafeluec.” Nothing happened.

The Crown Princess repeated “Bregdan anweald gafeluec.” Yet again, nothing happened.

Now, the Griffin began its charge and the Prince began lowering the lance into position.

“Bregdan anweald gafeluec!!!” the 17-year-old’s eyes flashed golden.

A blue flame appeared on the tip of the lance, indicating that the magic was working. It was aimed straight at the middle of the beast’s chest. Once it hit the creature, it fell backwards with a high-pitched screech. The lance had pierced its skin, straight into the creature’s beating heart.

The creature had died.

The Shire trotted back to its owner, a dazed Crown Prince on its back.

“We did it.” Muriel whispered. “But now you have to take care of your men.”

The blonde nodded. “Yes, of course.” and he got off the tall horse.

Morgana was seated on her bed as she watched her maidservant and bodyguard sew torn clothing together, Gwen with far more grace than Myrdina. It did make her chuckle, as the woman who strongly resembled her was incredibly clumsy in household tasks for a common woman.

The Essetiran woman was a big puzzle to her. She could be incredibly graceful one moment but would be clumsy the next. It did sometimes feel like as if she had been trained to be more like a Lady than a good common housewife. Perhaps her mother wanted her daughter to have bigger chances?

It wouldn’t be the first time that a mother had hopes for one of her beautiful daughters to marry into nobility. It had happened time and time again, with several common women marrying into aristocracy.

The King’s ward would be the last woman to deny another woman that chance, as marrying up was very often one of the few opportunities young women had in life when not born into nobility considering that they would otherwise end up kidnapped by bandits or as whores in a brothel just to survive.

If anything, she would aid the blue-eyed 17-year-old to capture the heart of a Knight would she so desire.

She would not be cruel.

Chapter Text

Despite the water being clear, the drifting sands still made the water which Arthur was drifting under look murky. He was in full armour, family crest stitched to the red fabric he wore over the chainmail.

A young woman with very soft cheeks, long curly blonde hair, and a strand of pearls on her forehead dressed in a yellow cape stood over him, her right arm stretched out straight. But she did not attempt to help. Instead, she was smirking as the unconscious Prince’s lungs filled with water.

--- --- ---

Morgana screamed as she awoke from her nightmare, alarming her bodyguard.

“Morgana! Morgana!” the younger woman called out as she rushed in from the adjoined doorway.

“Oh Myrdina… it was horrible.” the older Lady sobbed.

The secret Princess embraced the green-eyed woman. “Tell me when you’re ready. I’m here for you.”

Vivienne’s daughter leaned on her bodyguard’s shoulder, still crying.

The 17-year-old closed her eyes as she held the King’s Ward close to her. “It will be alright.” she said. It was not something she hadn’t seen before. Seers who had not been trained to control their magic quite often had major nightmares when something bad was about to happen. Her own sister Sybil was a Seer, albeit one trained from the day she had her first nightmare.

“I… I saw Arthur.” the King’s ward said, slowly pulling back from the hug. “Drowning in a lake.”

The Royal in disguise took the other woman’s hand. “Was there anything else?”

“There was a woman, standing over him as if she wanted him to drown. She was… pretty, I guess, but with a mean look on her face. She was blonde, slightly curled hair, with blue eyes.”

The physician’s apprentice nodded. “Alright. I am here, and I will look out for this girl.”

She would start writing a letter to her younger sister, hoping that Sybil could help Morgana out.

“Why am I always having these dreams?” Morgana asked, sounding exhausted.

“We can talk about it in the morning.” Muriel said. “You need to lay your head back on the pillow and rest. You do not have to fall asleep just yet, just calm yourself. Maybe Gaius has a recipe lying around for a better tonic. Just make sure to take deep breaths.”

The secret Royal had noticed that since a couple of weeks, Gorlois’s daughter the frequency of these prophesying nightmares had increased. She suspected it may have something to do with her arrival, kickstarting the processes needed to form the united Albion. Her younger sister’s visions had also increased since she’d arrived in Camelot.

It was something that the Druids had told her about. Her presence in Camelot would ignite the flame of magic, increasing the frequency of magical outbursts by individuals not yet in control of their powers.

And it was happening to Morgana, a woman with no access to magical training whatsoever.

The Elmetian contemplated calling upon her sister Sybil to guide the noblewoman. But first, she’d have to know whether Morgana was accepting of her own magical potential. It was one thing to accept others who had it, but it was something completely different to accept it within yourself. She would talk about it with Morgana the next day, after breakfast.

The Crown Princess returned to the older woman’s chambers when the sun was high in the sky. She immediately noticed the dark circles under those usually vibrant green eyes. She sighed. “Bad night?”

“I couldn’t close an eye after you left.” Vivienne’s daughter answered, staring to the floor.

The 17-year-old closed the door behind her. “Have you eaten?”

“Gwen brought me breakfast, here.” the King’s Ward replied. “I couldn’t go to the dining hall.”

“That is understandable.” the warrior Princess said, slowly stepping closer. “Can I sit with you?”

Morgana motioned to the crumpled covers next to her. “Please.”

The blue-eyed woman sat herself down on top of the woollen covers. She then took a deep breath. “I think I may know what is happening to you.”

With wide eyes, the other woman turned to her bodyguard. “Did Gaius find it?”

Muriel shook her head. “No, I haven’t talked to him about it. I’ve seen this before, all that his happening to you now. My younger sister was also plagued by nightmares in her pre-teen years.”

“Was she cured?”

“She received treatment to control her dreams.”

“You know the treatment?”

The Elmetian Princess nodded. “I do. But there’s a catch.”

“I’m pretty desperate at this point.” the green-eyed woman said.

“It’s not about adverse side-effects.” the younger woman stated. “It’s about accepting something about yourself that is sadly illegal in the land you inhabit.”

The daughter of Vivienne and Gorlois was silent. “You… you mean…?”

“Morgana, you have magic.” the secret Royal took the other woman’s hand. “And it’s powerful within you. Without any means of control, you could accidentally oust yourself and be sentenced to death.”

More deafening silence.

“I’ll leave you with your thoughts.” and the foreign woman got up to leave.

“Do you know a lot? About magic, I mean.”

The blue-eyed woman turned her head. “Not everything, but quite a bit.”

“How much is Uther getting wrong about it?” Morgana asked.

“Most spells are not ‘evil’, as it is all about the intention of the caster.” the younger woman answered. “The only ‘evil’ in magic are what we call ‘Dark Arts’. But the only thing you need to know now is that foreseeing the future does not fall in that category. However, it does matter what you do with the information that you see. It is up to you to tell someone you believe you can trust.”

“But I can barely trust anyone here.” the King’s Ward said.

The foreign Royal squatted down. “You can trust me and Gaius.”

The Camelotian noblewoman looked worried. “How can I know?”

“I know a lot of magic users, that includes my sister.” the bodyguard replied. “All I care about, is how you will be using your powers. Will you keep your silence, potentially getting both Uther and Arthur killed, or will you come to me and tell me like you did last night?” she let out a deep breath. “And Gaius… well, he was involved with some light magic back in the days, like magically enhancing his potions and salves.”

Momentarily, the daughter of Vivienne and Gorlois looked relieved. Then, she had an expression of confusion on her face. “You will be able to prevent what happens in my dreams?”

The Elmetian tilted her head slightly. “I may have been slightly untruthful about my identity. I hope you will be able to forgive me for it.” she took another deep breath. “My name is not Myrdina. That is something Gaius and I came up with. My actual name is Muriel, which you might have heard.”

“You… you’re the Princess of Elmet.” a stunned Lady Morgana said, her eyes wide open.

“I am.” the green-eyed woman said.

The older woman lifted her head slightly. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help Arthur.” Muriel said. “It sounds ridiculous, but it is the truth.”

“Why? Everyone else with magic is trying to kill him.”

The foreigner nodded. “I know, and that’s why I’m here.” she rose up again. “The sword cannot always repel magic the way magic can, and Arthur needs someone a little more powerful than Gaius to watch over him as magical threats are constantly out there. Arthur is the prophesised Once And Future King, the one who will unite Albion and allow magic to flourish once more. His premature death could mean the death of Albion as we know it.”

“You would benefit from Albion uniting.” Morgana stated.

“Everyone benefits.” the Crown Princess told. “But yes, Elmet will have more chance to thrive.”

The Camelotian still had a doubtful expression on her face.

The younger Lady sighed. “There’s no dark underlying reason why I’m here. I truly understand your doubt, but I don’t know how to prove that to you right now.”

“You’re not here to steal his heart?”  the King’s Ward asked.

“No.” the witch sternly said. “That would only put more pressure on me to produce more children. And at this moment in time, I’m not quite sure if I want to go through the process of childbirth multiple times.”

“Right.” the blue-eyed woman said, looking at her wooden floor.

The Elmetian then walked to the door. “I’ll speak to you later. I need to do rounds for Gaius.”

--- --- ---

But before Muriel could start with her rounds, she encountered someone who made all the alarm bells in her mind and body go off.

The woman in question was a stunning blonde with the brightest blue eyes, wearing a yellow-orange coat.

Morris, Arthur’s manservant, was leading her to a room that was rather close to Arthur’s quarters.

“Morris, may I ask you where you’re leading the Lady?” the Crown Princess of Elmet asked. She was trying to keep her voice down and not make her loathing known.

“To the guest room over there.” and the dark-haired young man pointed to a wooden door.

The 17-year-old hummed. “I fear that this wing is not quite appropriate for an unmarried woman who is at an age to experience her menses. A room much closer to the Griffin Landing would be much more proper, and the temperature is more pleasant as well this time of year.” she looked straight at the woman, her stomach turning. “I hope you don’t mind the walk there.”

The common boy raised an eyebrow in confusion, but led the woman away.

The foreign Princess took a deep breath and made her way to her Camelotian counterpart’s door, the door next to the room where Morris had wanted to place the blonde. She knocked. “Are you in?”

“Door is open!”

The magic wielder did open the door. “Who’s that strange girl Morris wanted to put next door?”

“Lady Sophia of Tír-Mòr.” the Camelotian proclaimed. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“Her physical appearance does make a few heads turn.” the dark-haired woman replied, a frown appearing on her face. “I’m just not sure that you should trust her.”

“Does her presence here make you jealous?” Arthur teased. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

The Elmetian became even more concerned. “I’m quite pleased with the way I look. Not that you have seen me in anything else than hunting leathers and servant clothing.”

“Then I’m certain the pair of you will get along.” the blonde said with a bright smile.

The Princess of Elmet left the quarters with a heavy feeling in her underbelly that she just couldn’t get rid of. She hadn’t felt something like this before. Although… she had felt something similar when she had laid eyes on Nimueh the very first time. Then her mind went back to the item this Lady Sophia of Tír-Mòr had been holding… a staff of twisted wood with a glowing orb at the top in between the strands.

Envisioning that item sent chills down her spine. It felt as if that staff was a source of potential dark magic.

The blue-eyed woman took a deep breath. She would have to turn to her books, and watch this ‘Lady Sophia’ like a hawk. Perhaps she could pick up something during her rounds, but she’d have to pick up her stuff at Gaius’s chambers.

But as Muriel was about to enter, she heard Morgana talk.

“I had another dream.”

“I see.” was the physician’s reply.

“I saw Arthur lying under water, drowning, and there was a woman standing over him, watching him die. And she’s here in Camelot.” that was exactly what the King’s Ward had told her bodyguard.

“The mind plays tricks. It borrows from everyday life and plays out its own fantasy.”

The witch outside the room angrily shook her head.

“But I had this dream before she came to Camelot.”

“You must be mistaken.”

The foreign woman sighed. She could only guess this was the old man’s way of ‘helping’, a.k.a. discouraging her belief in her dreams so no one would seek anything behind them.

“No, I know what I saw. It was so real...so vivid. I saw him die, Gaius. She’s going to kill him.”

‘I won’t let that happen, I assure you.’ the Princess of Elmet thought to herself.

“These are just dreams, Morgana, nothing more. Are you taking the sleeping draught I made up for you?”

“Oh, it doesn’t help.”

Some rummaging could be heard through the door. “Here. Try this. It will induce a deeper sleep. You’ve nothing to fear.”

“Thank you, Gaius.”

“Morgana. Don't bother Uther about this. No need to worry him.”

The dark-haired woman then hid on the other side of the door, knowing which way it opened. She waited until Morgana was walking up the stairs before stepping into the physician’s chambers.

“Ah, there you are.” the old sorcerer said. He pointed to a pouch. “You can take that.”

“And I will.” the Crown Princess said. “But first you have to tell me why you are downplaying Morgana’s abilities as a Seer.”

The medicine man stiffened up. “I should’ve known you’d recognize the signs. Your sister.”

“Morgana is a powerful Seer. If her abilities remain untrained, she is open to corruption.” Lady Emrys said.

“Magic is dangerous under this roof. She cannot know what she is.” Gaius said.

“Bad luck, I already told her this morning.”

The grey-haired man had a look of panic on his face. “Do you realise what you’ve done!?!?”

The Elmetian nodded. “I told her the truth. She now has an explanation for why she’s having all these dreams, and she’ll be able to control them once she has trained under a more experienced Seer. I have sent for Sybil, who will be here within a week.” she stepped closer to her mentor. “Morgana needs this, and you shouldn’t be denying that.”

“I just want to protect her from Uther’s wrath.”

“And I want to do the same.” the young woman said. “You are living in a place of constant fear. You aren’t thinking about the consequences and corruptibility of unharnessed magic. If Morgana keeps living in fear as well, she too could come to believe that she is inherently evil when she’s not. So, my sister will be coming here, to help Morgana. I hope you can provide them with the little adjoined bedroom to practise?”

The Royal physician nodded. “That is something I can do.”

Muriel nodded. “Good. I should start with those rounds.” and she grabbed the pouch from the table.

When she was nearing the end of bringing the medicine around, the secret Royal encountered Lancelot. She smiled at him when he waved at her. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you around for some time.”

“Leon took me out on a patrol to the eastern border, lasted about a week.” the squire said. “I see you’re taking the medicine around for today?”

“Gaius never does the deeper corners of the castle, strains his old bones.” the black-haired woman said as she continued to walk through the castle hallways, her friend following close behind. “How was the patrol? Seen anything noteworthy?”

Lance shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Although, I never imagined some Knights to be such jerks. They treat servants and bar staff like shit.”

“Yeah… some men do not abide by the Knights’ Code even though they should.” the Elmetian shook her head. “Is there any other reason you’re following me?”

The tanned man was taken a little aback. “Well, you’re quite familiar with Gwen, right?”

“To a degree. But I have spent a considerable amount of time with her.” the blue-eyed woman tilted her head. “Why you’re asking?”

“Well…” the common man looked a little hesitant. “I think I like Gwen?”

The Crown Princess of Elmet began smiling broadly. “That’s so cute! I’m quite sure Morgana would agree that the two of you would fit. She’d want the best for her long-time friend and confidante.”

“Do you think she likes me too?” Lancelot asked.

“I definitely know she thinks you’re handsome. That’s most certainly a good start.” the foreigner said, still smiling. “I’m sure she’ll like it if you come by the house she shares with her brother and father.”

“You think that’s a good idea? Some fathers are notoriously protective.” the dark-eyed man stated.

The Princess shrugged. “I don’t know how Tom and Elyan are, I barely interact with them. I suppose you could ask Leon about them, I know several Knights deal with the blacksmith pair.” she knocked on the last door where she needed to deliver something, and handed over the tonic to the servant who opened the door. “But you were asking about Gwen?”

“Yeah… I was wondering if could help me pick out a fabric. You know, so she can make a nice dress for herself.” the Camelotian answered as the pair of them walked on.

“Then we should go to the market right now to see if there’s something.” Muriel said as she placed the empty pouch on one of the wooden hallway furniture.

Thus, the pair of them went to the market, which was less busy now compared to what it would’ve been in the early hours of the day before people went to work at their farms or other jobs in the city.

“We should definitely try to find something a little more luxurious than the stuff she normally wears.” the Witch said. “Lilac and other purple hues look great on her. So, we should go with that. Velvet would be a little over the top, but linen could be an option as it would allow her to make a dress for indoor events.”

“I’ll leave that up to your judgement.” the man said.

They arrived at the market stand which sold fabrics, where the vendor welcomed them with open arms. “What can I do for the two of you?”

“We’re looking for something to surprise Gwen.” the secret Royal replied. “Though it’s more Lance here who wants to surprise her. I’m just here for moral support. Is there anything you can recommend?”

The middle-aged man nodded. “Bright colours look quite good on her, don’t you agree?”

“That’s indeed something that we discussed.” the Princess of Elmet said, nodding. “We thought shades of purple would look the best. Perhaps a fabric that’s a little exotic but not too outrageous.”

“I think I have something.” the seller went to his cart behind him to retrieve something, returning with a roll of cloth that was a light shade of purple. “I think this is perfect. Wool and linen woven together.”

The magic wielder looked over at her friend. “Would this be something you’d like to give to Gwen?”

“I think I would.” the dark-haired man answered. “How much does it cost?”

The vendor then named his price.

The Camelotian had a thoughtful look on his face. “I think I’m a little short.”

“I can pay whatever you’re missing.” Muriel stated. “You can pay me back when Leon pays your salary.”

“Thanks for doing that for me.” and the pair paid for the roll together.

As they were walking back to the citadel, the squire spoke up again. “Do you know where I could hide this? I really don’t have much space in my room, and I still need to store some personal equipment.”

“You could ask Gaius if he’s got some storage space. He does have an extra bedroom available and quite a few cabinets. But if he’s got nothing, you can store it in my room.”

--- --- ---

Arthur had been looking out of his windows. Initially, he’d been daydreaming about the lovely Lady Sophia who was just absolutely stunning and gorgeous from head to toe. She was a traditional beauty: fair skin, a rounded figure, with long hair. She was elegant and graceful. Exactly his type of woman. There was nothing off-putting about her.

But then his eyes fell on the Elmetian Crown Princess, and it felt as if a door in the back of his mind opened up to release a fresh wind to clear all the fog that had been forming as he had been thinking about Sophia.

Muriel looked graceful even in the servant garb that she had to put on every day. There was just something in her stride, the way the light hit her pale skin, the wave of her hair in the wind… she was both Royal and a warrior woman, a follower of the Old Religion in a land professing Christianity upon its people, she was a forbidden fruit that few would ever taste.

Why had he been thinking about Sophia?

His father was going to marry him off to Princess Elena of Gawant, the daughter of King Godwyn, to unite the Kingdoms of Camelot and Gawant into one much larger Kingdom to rival Mercia to their north-east.

Everything was already set in stone, as the wedding would be taking place after his 21 st birthday.

But despite his looming arranged marriage, the Crown Prince of Camelot could not shake it that there was something inside him burning for his Elmetian counterpart.

It was unlikely that the blonde could ever fully explore what it was that he felt. He was bound to the rules his father had set for him all those years ago, and there was no way he could break them without serious repercussions while his father was still alive.

Uther’s son watched his fellow Royal as she walked with Leon’s squire Lancelot over the market, sparking a feeling of jealousy inside of him. He was jealous of her freedoms, that was most certain. But this time, it felt a little different to the jealousy he’d been feeling before. It was something he couldn’t place.

Really, he needed a good night’s sleep.

--- --- ---

When she got back from the market, the undercover Royal set out to discover what this ‘Lady Sophia’ truly was. She didn’t believe her to be truly human, as something just wasn’t right. She had locked her door, the key laying on the wooden cabinet to the door’s left, and gotten herself a good portion of stew as well as a goblet of ale to get her through the rest of the day.

She then opened one of Gaius’s many books which she had smuggled up to her own rooms.

Page by page, the Crown Princess of Elmet went through the book. Studying every creature, she ruled them out one by one.

There was a lot to get through, and possibly not enough time.

But the Witch continued throughout the night. She had to get this right.

Accusing someone of not being human was bad enough, let alone if it was false.

Then, the Elmetian’s eyes fell on one page in particular. It was a page talking about the Sidhe.

---

‘The Sidhe are powerful creatures of magic and masters of enchantment. They are able to cast powerful spells and often use staffs to focus their magic. This creature practices their own branch of magic known as Sidhe magic, which is as old and powerful as the dragons themselves. It can be used to cast powerful love and healing spells, and to create changelings by implanting a Sidhe inside a human. A fairy can live within its host for over twenty years, and can emerge and possess them at any time. In addition to magic, Sidhe also have the ability to fly and to take the form of a small sphere of light. Though they have a lifespan of over a thousand years, they are not completely immortal, as they can be killed by powerful forms of magic and can be cursed to live mortal lives. While in human form, a Sidhe's eyes turn red when using magic. They can be particularly vicious against humans, especially when they are in their way of reaching a particular goal.’

---

The Princess hadn’t had the misfortune to encounter a Sidhe just yet, but she feared that this was the case for ‘Lady Sophia’ and her father Aulfric. She guessed that the pair of them were after something that was in Camelot. She looked out of the window of her room, seeing that it was getting dark. She then decided to see if the possible Sidhe were in, and perhaps talking about anything.

When she was at the door of the man’s chamber, she heard a pair of voices.

“We were interrupted.” that was Sophia’s voice.

“What happened?” her father asked.

Whimpering ensued. “I was nearly killed. For a moment, I felt what it would be like to die a mortal death. He saved me. Someone so weak, so feeble, saved me! I can’t bear to be like this a moment longer.”

“You won’t have to. Once his heart is yours, the gates of Avalon will open once again for us, and we can regain our true form.”

Those sentences made the dark-haired woman realise she was right.

Those individuals were not human. They were Sidhe.

“I need a little more time.” Sophia said.

“You must hurry. People might see us for what we truly are. Tomorrow, you have to finish the enchantment otherwise our chance to rid us of these mortal shells will be lost forever.”

Muriel whisked herself away, back to her room, without making a sound. She sat back down at her desk and looked at the Sidhe pages again.

---

‘In order for an exiled Sidhe to return to Avalon, a powerful mortal must be sacrificed. Each exiled Sidhe is tasked to find a different mortal to sacrifice at the Lake in a ritual.’

---

That was enough for the Elmetian. She was going to hide herself along the route to the Lake of Avalon to intercept Arthur before the ritual could take place. And considering they were now mortal, a crossbow would do for a weapon. No need to find a spell in one of those countless books.

All she needed was for Lancelot to provide her with a crossbow from the Armory, and then she could hide in a tree with enough leaves to hide her. She would also have to change outfits.

Her hunting outfit would do.

Oh, and perhaps a good night sleep would do wonders.

The foreign Crown Princess woke up as the sun was setting over Camelot, and she quickly got into her gear. She’d temporarily wear a coat over it to hide what she was actually wearing, as it would lead to raised eyebrows and questions being asked. She’d rather not be subjected to that right now.

The timing had to be right. This intercept could not fail.

The 17-year-old had a light breakfast, enough to fill her stomach as she found a spot in the trees. She did not seek out Gwen as she normally would. Instead, she headed straight for the woods, for the Lake of Avalon, to lie in wait until the Sidhe came to pass.

Lance had indeed provided her with a crossbow, the question of her intent visible in his eyes. But he did not actually ask the question before she left through the gates.

The dark-haired woman found a particularly good tree in which she could climb. She hid her coat in the bushes near the tree and climbed into it. From that tree, she would have a good look over the path.

Perhaps the wait was between 2 or 3 hours, but the sun was close to being at its highest point when the Sidhe walked towards the Lake, Arthur holding Sophia’s hand.

Muriel aimed the crossbow and took her shot.

The arrow went straight into the elder Sidhe’s back. It made him explode in little pieces.

It elicited a panicked scream from Sophia.

The Witch jumped from the tree, aiming the crossbow at the blonde Sidhe.

Of course, ‘Lady Sophia’ started to run. Still holding the Crown Prince’s hand.

The Elmetian cursed and began running after the pair. Unlike the two she was chasing, she wasn’t wearing a cape or any other heavier fabric that hindered her speed. Thus, she was able to catch up.

But instead of shooting the younger Sidhe, she yanked her Camelotian counterpart from her grip by grabbing his other hand and stopping right in her tracks. She then pulled the blonde behind her and shot the Sidhe in human disguise.

The creature exploded, just like the other had.

“Where am I?”

The Dragonborn dynast turned around, meeting the confused face of the other Royal. “Lady Sophia and her father were Sidhe. They were taking you to Lake Avalon to sacrifice you.”

Uther’s son blinked. “Sidhe?”

“I’ll tell you all about them when we get back to Camelot.” the foreigner stated. “Long story short, she enchanted you so you would follow wherever she went. But we should get back, now.”

Muriel softly knocked on her ‘Mistress’s’ door. “Morgana, are you in?”

“Yes.” a soft but tired voice replied.

The Elmetian pushed the door open. “How are you feeling today?”

“Just very tired.” which was evident from the bags under her eyes.

The secret Witch stepped inside and closed the door behind her before sitting down on Morgana’s bed. “I managed to intercept Sophia and Arthur before they arrived at the Lake of Avalon.”

“Good.” and the King’s Ward could finally smile again. “Thank you.”

The foreign Crown Princess went towards the older woman’s bed and sat down next to her. “My sister Sybil will be here soon, under the name Eithne.” she began. “She’ll help you control this.”

“I sincerely hope so.” the green-eyed woman said with a sigh. “I long for a good night of sleep without the possibility of a nightmare waking me up. I just want to sleep.” she was clearly exhausted.

“Training your magic will be a long journey, one you’re on for your entire life.” the Dragonborn Princess said, taking the other woman’s hand. “There will be struggles in the beginning of it all, but it will eventually pay off.” she smiled. “Even I sometimes struggle to control it, especially when I have no outlet like I have back home in Elmet.”

The older noblewoman looked at her. “How do you deal with it?”

“I allow my magic to do the small tasks for me, in my room.” the foreign Princess told. “Things like cleaning, rearranging my closet, flipping through a book suspended in the air while I lay in bed or when I’m doing my hair. Of course I all do that with the door locked.”

“I wish I could do that as well. But Gwen would see that it’s changed, and ask about it.” Vivienne’s daughter said with a sigh.

“You can just say that we did it together, to see if you could put out any old stuff.” the Dragonborn dynast told. “I don’t think Gwen would question that, especially if you give her a dress to reuse for one of her own outfits.” the blue-eyed woman smiled. “I’ll calm your magic down.”

Morgana still looked tense. “Are you sure nothing bad will happen?”

“I trust you intentions to be pure.” the younger woman replied. “Evil things happen with the intention to do evil, as you have seen in your dreams. You can use your powers to be selfless instead of selfish. It is up to you whether you allow the alure of power corrupt you, as magic is as much a tool as a sword.”

The King’s Ward nodded. “Thank you. I needed that.” she looked at the floor for a moment. “I just wish I didn’t have to hide or be scared of what I am.”

“None of us know when the Fates decide that it is Uther’s time to go.” the Elmetian said.

“What about Arthur?” the Seer asked. “He’s not one to disappoint Uther.”

Muriel hummed. “He is… surprisingly open about that topic.”

The green-eyed woman’s eyes went wide.

“I don’t think you really know the true story of how the two of us encountered one another.” the Crown Princess said before clearing her throat. “Well, it began with Arthur and his Knights being sent to the northern border to apprehend a group of bandits. But they were rather unprepared for their viciousness. My troop of Warriors stepped in, allowing most of the Knights to be able to survive that fight and return to Camelot.” their eyes met. “I actually had to use magic right in front of Arthur and Leon, and they didn’t attack me. Not that they would’ve succeeded, they would’ve been thrown into the highest tree of that forest had they lifted their swords. Both of them were pretty civil, if a little on guard. Unsurprisingly.”

“I remember Arthur telling me about that.” the older noblewoman said. “But he claimed he was helped out by a group of angry locals, not any trained warriors.”

The foreigner chuckled. “A little humility never hurts.” she looked down at the crumpled sheets. “I guess he couldn’t explain otherwise how he and Leon had been able to fight so many bandits with everyone else knocked out on the ground or dead. I’m glad he made up something remotely plausible. It wouldn’t be the first time that a group of local insurgents fought back against the people terrorising them.”

The Camelotian nodded. “I’m glad to know Arthur has an open mind. It makes me hold hope that I can be free of this fear that I have.” she then blinked. “But why can’t we just kill Uther?”

“Uhhhh… you really want to go there?” Lady Emrys asked. “Uther has to stay alive until Arthur is ready to take the throne. As it is with almost every succession, there’s a chance that a foreign ruler decides to occupy Camelot as the power is being transferred from one ruler to the next. Considering Uther is on bad terms with a few Kings in the south as well as Cenred to the east, I would not be surprised if any of them decide to attack.”

King Uther looked out the window of his chambers from where he could see the Citadel’s entrance.

Myrdina’s even younger sister had arrived, but would only spend a week in Camelot before returning home. Despite being just 16, she had all the hallmarks of a woman.

Neither sister was a child anymore, they were beautiful women of marriageable age.

Eithne was a little smaller than her older sister. She also had less muscle on her limbs, accentuating her tiny build. She was paler than her sister, which attested to the fact that she did not leave the house too often which was probably due to her parents’ fear that a bandit would snatch her up. She had straight brown hair reaching her collarbones, compared to her sister’s long curly locks of black hair. Yet her eyes too were an equally bright blue.

The elder Pendragon wanted to have the sisters, naked in his bed and make them his. But the elder sister had found ways to avoid him approaching her in private, and really cared about propriety rules. It was reasonable to assume that the younger sister was the same.

But a King got what he wanted. He would get those girls in his bed.

Chapter Text

Nimueh wanted revenge.

For almost 21 years, she’d been living the life of a pauper. Constantly on the run for Camelot’s Knights.

For a while, she had been able to live normally in Elmet, the Kingdom ruled by the Dragonborn dynasty who were the only magical dynasty in all of Albion. Still, it wasn’t enough.

She needed Uther Pendragon to suffer for everything he’d done to her.

What better way to do so than to wake the ghosts of the past?

The High Priestess had broken into the crypt below the citadel, where no one would be during the darkest part of the night. She went to one particular tomb and cast her spell. “Gehíere mé' wan cniht áwæce. Beo strangra ond steacra for brecþ wáne. úprærest wærc, Uther Pendragon.”

She smiled as a gauntlet broke through the lid of the coffin.

This time, her plan would work.

Few knew how to kill a Wraith. None would have the resources to make the weapon required.

It was perfect .

The Palace had been bustling for months leading up to this particular events: Arthur’s 21 st birthday and him being officially crowned as the Crown Prince despite being designated that title since birth. It was an official coming-of-age ceremony for the heir, something which was done differently in every Kingdom.

Muriel herself had that ceremony when she turned 15.

The night before her 15 th birthday, she slept in the Dark Tower. A testimony of sound mind and judgement. In the morning, she had to fight an older magic user. A testimony to the strength of her magic. Then, just past midday, she had to sit still for 2 hours straight. And then, in the evening, celebrations had been held in her honour. At that party, she’d worn a gown designed to her wishes and she held a speech before all banquet attendees.

In Camelot, it was much simpler.

The Prince had knelt before his father and spoke his pledges.

“Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of this kingdom and its dominions according to the statutes, customs and laws laid down by your forebears?”

“I do, Sire.”

“Do you promise to exercise mercy and justice in your deeds and judgments?”

“I do, Sire.”

“And do you swear allegiance to Camelot, now and for as long as you shall live?”

“I, Arthur Pendragon, do pledge life and limb to your service and to the protection of the kingdom and its peoples.”

“Now being of age and heir apparent, from henceforth, you shall be Crown Prince of Camelot.”

Once the words had been spoken, a golden circlet was placed upon his head.

As the now Crowned Prince of Camelot rose to his feet, the court applauded.

Sybil Dragonborn, undercover at the court of Camelot under the name Adelina, was standing next to her older sister, who had already been there for a couple of months. “He does look quite good with that circlet on his head, doesn’t he?”

“No comment.” the Crown Princess of Elmet said, though she did have a smile on her face.

“Wait until he sees you in yours.” the younger sister whispered.

The black-haired woman rolled her eyes. “Small chance of that ever happening until Uther’s dead.”

“You can just take him to Elmet, fake some solo hunting trip.”

Suddenly, Gwen appeared next to the pair of sisters. “Gossiping about stuff from back home?”

“That. And boys.” the 16-year-old said.

The elder sister grunted. “ She is talking about boys.”

“You didn’t tell me there were so many hotties around.” the Seer said. “If Ella hears this…”

The dark-skinned maid raised an eyebrow. “Ella?”

“Someone from back home.” Muriel answered. “She’s truly boy crazy. You could say she’s actively husband hunting, or whatever else you wanna call it.”

“Hmm… does she think she can get a nobleman to look at her twice?” the blacksmith’s daughter asked.

The second-born daughter of King Balinor shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. She’s the daughter of a skilled blacksmith who makes good earnings. If her father’s willing to pay the dowry… who knows what’s possible for her when it comes to marriage.”

“You also have a dowry system then?” the Camelotian asked.

“I think they kinda have it everywhere, in one form or another.” the powerful witch replied. “In our community, it’s more or less seen as a sign of goodwill between families, though I have heard of dowries being used as insurance if one of the two families has debt.”

Morgana’s personal maidservant sighed. “I suppose I don’t have much hope of marrying up. My father’s a good blacksmith, but his earnings don’t afford us much luxury.”

“Maybe a minor son of a nobleman might not ask for a dowry.” Sybil stated. “I definitely think you have a chance, you just need to bump into them.”

Just as she had finished her sentence, a window was broken from the outside.

The Princess quickly looked at what had come in. As her green eyes found the object, her entire body started trembling. She felt the spasms, like convulsions, and her world turned black as she fell to the floor.

---------

As her sister fell to the floor with convulsions, Muriel had no time to think. She had to get her sister out of the room before the convulsions would get worse. She signalled for Gaius and asked Gwen to help her carry ‘Adelina’ out of the room to a quieter space away from the Great Hall.

“What’s going on with her?” the dark-skinned maid asked as the 16-year-old was placed on the floor of a spacious guest room.
“Convulsions.” the Crown Princess of Elmet replied shortly. “Just step back and give her the space. It’s happened before back home. She’ll be back on her feet in the morning.”

The girl in lavender blinked fast and sighed. “By God… what a night.”

“You could say that.” the secret noble said, slowly guiding the other woman out of the room. “I’m really curious what that knight even wanted.” ‘And why my sister collapsed upon seeing the knight.’

“I hope Adelina will be alright.” Guinevere said.

“As do I. But she’s had these for as long as I remember, and she’s always turned up fine the next day. So don’t worry. Gaius is with her.” the 17-year-old said.

The blacksmith’s daughter nodded. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Most certainly. Bright and early, as always.” Mura promised her. “You go get some rest.”

Gwen nodded. She then slowly turned around, and went towards the night quarters that Morgana allowed her to use after a particularly long day at work.

The Elmetian went back to Gaius and her sister, finding that the convulsions had stopped, and Sybil was breathing normally again.

“You said she’s had these convulsions for a while.” the physician said.

“They tend to be a precursor for one of her visions.” the Royal in disguise told. “She’s probably experiencing the vision now as we speak.”

The old man nodded. “How often does this happen?”

“On average I’d say once a month.” Muriel replied. “Though I must admit, she’s had them more often since Kilgharrah told us about the legend of the Once and Future King.”

“What are the things she has seen?” the former magic user asked.

The Princess took a deep breath. “She accurately predicted what would happen the evening I arrived here, with Mary Collins trying to take revenge for her son’s execution. She’s had visions about Nimueh, the revenge plans she’s been plotting. She’s had visions of a dark-haired man trying to kill Arthur in the dark of the night. There have been a lot of visions, to be honest.”

“So, she has her visions in her sleep?” the medicine man questioned.

The 17-year-old nodded. “She does. Only once did she have a vision when she was daydreaming, but that was just a vision of a wedding. Her Sight is more contained, and usually a lot more predictable.”

“Well, this situation was anything but normal.” Gaius mumbled.

The Royal in disguise raised an eyebrow. “You know what’s going on?”

“I have my suspicions, but this could be a case of impersonation as well.” the court physician replied.

“Who do you think is behind the mask?” Mura asked.

The elderly man sighed. “The crest on the shield, it belonged to Tristan Du Bois, brother to Queen Ygraine. He died in combat against Uther, believing his sister’s death was caused by Uther.”

“So… either someone has gone through a lot of trouble to make Uther think that Du Bois has arisen from the death, or he actually has risen from the death.” when she finished that sentence, a realisation hit her square in the chest. “Oh, no.” her face went paler than it already was.

“Are you alright?”

“I think I will be. I just need to check my books.” the dark-haired lady said. “I remember reading about Wraiths. I read that chapter just last week.”

“There’s nothing you can do for the person who picked up the gauntlet.” the former magic user said.

The Elmetian gave her mother’s former mentor a look. “Oh, so if Arthur has picked it up, I should just watch him die? Excuse me Gaius, but that is simply unacceptable. I am here to protect him, no matter what the cost is.”

---------

In the corner of his eye, Arthur had seen the medical emergency of Muriel’s sister. He hadn’t been able to pay it much attention with this armoured Knight standing in front of him and throwing down the gauntlet.

Sir Owain had picked it up, accepting the single combat challenge that would be until death.

Only when the man in black rode out of the Great Hall, the Crowned Prince could collect his thoughts. A lot had happened in such a small window of time. One, a mysterious knight had jumped through a window of the Great Hall. Two, that window now needed repairs. Three, one of his knights was now going to fight to the death. And four, Muriel’s sister who had recently arrived at Camelot had just had an emergency.

Considering the festive atmosphere had disappeared into oblivion and most guests had dispersed, the heir to the throne of Camelot set out to find Muriel and her sister.

He found Muriel, discussing something with the court physician.

“Are you both alright?” the blonde asked.

“I’m okay. And my sister’s convulsions have stopped.” the Princess replied. “What happened at the front?”

“One of my knights picked up the gauntlet. The fight will commence at noon tomorrow.” the Camelotian replied. “It felt really strange when that knight came in. As if the temperature dropped.”

The foreign Princess stared at him. “Well, an entire window was broken.”

“It wasn’t just a gust of wind that was cold. It was… something else.”

The oldest daughter of King Balinor looked back at the bedroom door behind her. “My sister will be sleeping in there for the night. I’ll make sure the sheets are changed in the morning.”

“Might be a good idea. My father doesn’t take kindly to ‘servants’ using the guest rooms.” the Prince said.

“I’ll take care of that. I also made sure the door is locked from the inside, so no one can get in while she’s sleeping.” the Elmetian said. “Just to be sure.”

The Crown Prince nodded. “Good. I would hate it if anything happened to your sister.”

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened. She came here at my request.”

Arthur put one hand on the slightly shorter woman. “You need to go asleep as well. We all need it.”

“There’s just one thing I gotta check before I go to sleep. I see you in the morning.” and the dark-haired woman went towards the physician’s quarters.

The blonde threw one more look at the room where Sybil was sleeping, and then departed for his own rooms. Not that he would sleep much, his head would keep spinning as the situation of that night repeated over and over in his mind.

Swords were clashing against each other, against armour, against fabric.

“You can still go back!” one voice yelled. It was King Uther’s voice.

“You killed my sister!” a second voice roared, fuelled with anger.

This second voice emerged from a man in dark coloured armour, a stark contrast with the bright red and gold colour scheme of Camelot. He delivered his blows in anger. Though he had technique, his anger was causing him to be sloppy. He left himself open to attack, which was a chance the warrior in red took.

The steel of the sword penetrated the soft tissue of the lower stomach, causing heavy bleeding.

The man in dark robes fell down, his blood pooling on the sand and staining his robes. He groaned loudly, but his anger did not subside. “I curse you, Uther Pendragon! I will avenge my sister! Even death cannot stop me!” he still tried to slash at the King, but to no avail. The knight died where he had fallen, still seething with anger as he let out his last breath.

The scene calmed down, and the dead man was prepared for burial. He would be entombed with other nobles in the catacombs beneath the Pendragon stronghold. Yet his soul would be forever restless, unable to let go his feelings of anger.

That was when Sybil woke up.

She was not in her own bed, nor in her own room.

Clearly, her sister had dragged her out of the Great Hall and put her to bed somewhere else after her convulsions had stopped. Soft rays of sun were coming in through the gap in the curtains.

The Seer slowly sat up and took a deep breath. She stared at the floor as she let her mind churn over the scene she had just witnessed overnight. She had seen the dark-clad knight in human form, dying at the hand of Uther as so many others had.

Yet the anger of this man was personal, as he believed Uther had killed his sister.

The 16-year-old wondered who this knight was. She didn’t have to wonder who had brought the man back to life, as the art of necromancy was practised by High Priestesses.

Currently, only one High Priestess was known to have survived the Great Purge: Nimueh. And she was hell-bent on seeing the destruction of Uther Pendragon, which her actions in the past had already shown. If you were a forgiving person, you wouldn’t kill a non-magical 2-year-old child just ‘to show what you can do’.

Nimueh was all that was wrong with magic: vengeful, not holding back to get what you want, not caring what happened to other people.

Selfishness and vengeance were not purposes for the correct use of magic. A user of magic should be selfless, use magic in a way that could help others, stop squabbles from becoming fights… it was supposed to be there to make things easier all around. However, possessing power can corrupt. No one is truly immune for such a thing, not even someone like her or her sisters who were raised under the guidance of the Fisher King’s infinite wisdom and their overly kind and compassionate mother.

The Royal in disguise slowly stood up and pulled the curtains apart to let the sun into the room.

It was a beautiful day. Yet this day was not going to be enjoyed by all.

Someone was going to die, as a Wraith or revenant was not going to stop until their vengeance was completed. This one wanted the death of Uther Pendragon, but other blood was going to flood.

The young woman unlocked the door, most certainly locked by her sister, and she went to the town village in search for her sister who would likely be out on errands for Gaius.

“Miss Adelina.” someone addressed her.

The young Princess turned around to find one of Camelot’s Knights, Sir Leon. “Oh, good morning, Sir.”

“Are you well? I heard you collapsed.” the ginger-haired man inquired.

“I am well. It is nothing beyond what I have experienced before.” Sybil answered.

The Knight looked concerned. “Have you been plagued with this for long?”

“Eleven years. But it has never affected my health. It seems I am sturdier than a tree stump.”

The blue-eyed man looked somewhat relieved. “It is good to see you up. Have you had anything to eat?”

“No. But I’ll get something once I’ve found Myra.” the 16-year-old said.

“You’ll find her near the apothecary.” and the First Knight of Camelot took his leave.

The Princess of Elmet went to the village apothecary, and saw her sister coming out of the building. She waved at her.

“You’ve woken up on the correct side of the bed.” Muriel commented.

“I do tend to sleep well after I’ve had convulsions.” the 2 nd born daughter of King Balinor said. “Gaius put you on herb collecting duty today?”

The physician’s apprentice nodded. “Yeah, gotta keep it up.” she led her sister to a less busy part of the market so fewer people would be able to overhear them. “So, what did you see?”

“That knight that came in, he’s out for revenge against Uther.” the Seer said. “I saw the fight in which he died. He was saying that Uther killed his sister.”

The Crown Princess nodded. “That would add up with what Gaius told me.”

“What did he say?” the younger sibling inquired.

“He told me the crest on the shield belonged to Tristan du Bois, a brother of Queen Ygraine.”

Sybil stared at her. “What?” her eyes then diverted to the soil beneath her feet. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“To us it doesn’t. But perhaps he believed that Uther ordered Magic to take her. We can’t exactly look inside someone’s brain. Even though I often sincerely like to.” the oldest of 6 surviving sisters said.

“It would make things easier sometimes.” the younger Witch agreed. “What are we going to do?”

“ You are going to continue training Morgana. I am going to try and find Arthur before this fight commences. He needs to know what’s going on.”

---------

Arthur was uncomfortable.

He didn’t like to see one of his men get hurt or die. He felt like it was his duty to protect all of his people, including the ones he’d been training to fight alongside him in the worst of situations.

It should’ve been him who picked up that gauntlet.

However, Gaius’s worried look in the morning and his hushed conversation with his father did alarm the Crown Prince that something was amiss with this unknown Black Knight.

So, when Muriel approached him and asked to talk to him, he let her into his chambers after assuring no one, not even another servant, saw her enter.

“I’m guessing this is about the unknown knight?” the blonde inquired.

The Witch nodded. “It is. Gaius believes he knows the identity of the man, identified by the crest on the shield you may have seen. However, this man has been dead for over twenty years.”

The Once and Future King blinked. “How do men rise from the dead?”

“Necromancy.” the foreign Princess answered. “The High Priestess Nimueh must’ve reanimated him with a spell, a spell to raise the dead who are filled with revenge. Sybil saw the man in her dreams, dying in a fight against your father. He said in his dying breath that he would return to take his revenge.”

“Considering this is some sort of Dark Magic, I suppose Magic is the antidote?” the Camelotian asked.

The dark-haired woman nodded. “No mortal weapon can kill a Wraith, as you would do with a revenant.”

“Do you know where to find a weapon that can kill this… Wraith?” the non-magical Prince asked.

“I do. It is a sword in pristine condition, burnished by the fire of the Great Dragon. It is currently in my possession.” the Crown Princess of Elmet replied. “However, I promised the Great Dragon that only I or the Once and Future King could handle the weapon. I cannot let anyone else handle it.”

The 21-year-old considered that for a moment. “That means Sir Owain is going to perish.”

“I am sorry that this cannot be solved in a different manner.” the Royal in disguise said.

“It’s not your fault.” Arthur said. “I just should’ve been quicker to pick it up.”

The young woman stepped closer. “None of your Knights know about this. The ones who know are you, me, my sister, Gaius, Geoffrey, and your father probably. No one else knows this is an undead creature.”

“That makes it even more dangerous for them.” the Crown Prince of Camelot took a deep breath. “If he throws his gauntlet down again, I need to pick it up.”

The Elmetian slowly nodded. “Then I will hand you that sword before you go onto the sandy pits.”

“Glad I’ve got someone to count on.” the blonde said with a soft smile. He turned his head to his bedroom window. “It’s almost time. Will I see you there?”

“I’m the physician’s assistant. I need to be on-site to tend to any non-fatal wounds.” the 17-year-old headed to the door. “I’ll talk to you after the fight.” and she headed into the hallway and towards the stairs.

As she was about to go down, Morris came up. “Oh sorry, I hadn’t seen you.”

The manservant smiled. “That’s okay. There are quite a lot of dead spots around here. You were just at Arthur’s?”

“He needed a new batch of that soothing muscle salve from Gaius.” Muriel looked at the pile of laundry. “I can guess you were doing the laundry for him again.”

“It’s a daily task!” the curly-haired boy exclaimed. “Hey uhm… would you mind going to the tavern in town together one evening?” he was somewhat blushing and stumbling over his words.

Morgana’s bodyguard gave the young man a knowing smile and tilted her head. “Are you asking me out?”

“Uh… yeah… kinda.” the brunet replied.

The Witch chuckled. “Sure. What would you say about tomorrow night?”

“Sounds perfect!” Morris was smiling from ear to ear.

“I’ll wait at the citadel’s square.” and the firstborn daughter of King Balinor continued on her way.

This was the moment to pull out Excalibur, one of only a few items she had brought with her to Camelot. It could be easily disguised as just another weapon in the possession of a peasant who had acquired it for self-defence purposes. She’d brought it with her because she knew she was dealing with a High Priestess who was quite capable of necromancy.

But she could only hand it over to Arthur, as she had promised to Kilgharrah.

“The fight shall be to the knight’s rules! To the death! Let the battle commence!”

And with those words spoken by Arthur, the fight happened.

The Prince’s words about training his Knights well did ring true as the Elmetian Crown Princess watched on. Dread had been pooling in her stomach since the moment she’d woken up as there was no way that Sir Owain was going to walk away alive from this fight.

The crowd was cheering on the brave Camelotian Knight who was fighting the undead Wraith on the sandy pit, not knowing what was about to occur. Perhaps it was better that way.

However, some spectators gasped when the black knight fought on after having been stabbed in the abdomen, a wound fatal to the living.

Muriel turned her head to her Camelotian counterpart. She saw a look of worry and determination on his face, his black gloved hands already grasping the wood of the rail. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and turned her head back to the fighting pair.

In the end, the battle didn’t last much longer until Sir Owain was killed by the Wraith. The inevitable had happened, yet the crowd gasped.

Arthur quickly bolted over the barrier of the stands, slapping away his father’s hand. He threw down his own gauntlet before the Black Knight could do it. “I, Arthur Pendragon, challenge you.”

“So be it.” the undead creature said.

“Single combat. Noon, tomorrow.” and the Crown Prince stalked away, leaving the crowd silent.

The foreign Princess looked at the King of Camelot, who clearly had a furious look on his face. She smirked a little, as she thought about what he must be thinking. She then stepped away, leaving Morgana’s side as she went into the castle where she encountered Arthur.

“I’ll lock myself in my room after I’ve spoken to my father.” the blonde mentioned. “Keep an eye on Morris, I think he might want to go along with any sleeping potion my dad would want to put in my food this evening. He doesn’t like to be disobeyed.”

The 17-year-old nodded. “That won’t be a problem. But I should accompany Gaius first. He wants to confirm that it actually is your dead uncle. But, we are definitely dealing with the undead.”

The heir of Camelot nodded. “I suppose you saw the stab to the stomach as well?”

“I did. That should’ve been a mortal wound in any other case.” the dark-haired woman replied.

“I’ll expect you to be there in the morning.”

“Bright and early. I’ll be there.”

---------

The confrontation between father and son took place in the council chamber of the palace.

“How could you be so stupid? I’ll revoke the challenge!”

The Crown Prince lifted his head. “No. The Knight’s Code must be upheld. That's what you told me.”

Uther shook his head. “This is different.”

“Once the challenge has been laid down it cannot be rescinded.”

The older man looked furious. “You are the Crown Prince.”

“There cannot be one rule for me and one for all the rest.” Arthur said as he shook his head.

“I forbid you to fight!” the King yelled.

This time, the Pendragon dynast tilted his head ever so slightly. “You want me to prove that I’m worthy of the throne. I cannot do that by being a coward.”

“No, Arthur, this will be your death!”

Then, the son smirked. “I’m sorry you have so little faith in me, Father. Actually, I have the perfect plan.” and he left the chamber to get to his room, locking it right behind him.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” the witch asked, one eyebrow halfway up her forehead.

“You’re not scared, are you?” Gaius asked with a smirk.

Muriel rolled her eyes. “Crypts are not exactly anyone’s favourite place to be.”

Suddenly, the entrance door to the crypt slammed shut.

“Must've been a gust of wind.” the court physician muttered.

The Elmetian doubted it. “We should’ve brought a torch. Anyhow… Leohtbora. ”

A torch sitting in the wall of the corridor lit up.

“Huh. Handy!” the older man remarked as he began walking towards the tombs.

The Dragonborn dynast pulled the torch from the wall and followed her elder. “You know where to go?”

“I do. Bring your torch over here.” the medicine man said, pointing at one particular tomb.

The young woman did so, and both stared at a broken lid where the stone effigy should’ve been. She sighed. “I suppose this confirms our initial thoughts?”

The grey-haired man nodded. “It does. It most certainly does. We need to get back to the palace.”

“You’re going to report to the King, I presume?” the Crown Princess asked.

“It is my duty.” Gaius said.

The dark-haired woman looked sceptical. “You’ve kept things from him before. You’re still keeping things from him to this day. Like, I don’t know, the reality of most of the magic that is going on?”

“To protect the citizens of this land, yes.”

“Then keep it from him now, for Arthur’s sake.” the 17-year-old said. “He fears his father will drug him with your help if you tell him that this is indeed an undead creature.”

The court physician looked bewildered. “But Arthur will die!”

“Not when he is in the possession of a sword burnished by the Great Dragon’s fire.” Muriel placed her hand on the old man’s shoulders. “I would not have told Arthur to take the challenge if that option was not available to me. But I had the foresight to bring Excalibur with me.”

The Camelotian looked even more confused.

“That Wraith won’t stand a chance against Arthur. Don’t worry about it.” and the young woman left the underground cemetery of Camelotian nobility. She had a Destiny to fulfil.

The last existing High Priestess was cackling, enjoying what she had witnessed today.

Her plans for revenge would soon unfold. The Crown Prince of Camelot, whose birth she had assured, would be slain by his own dead uncle tomorrow.

The circle would be completed.

The dark-haired witch raised her goblet of fine wine as she sat in her lair, watching the King she had once served grieve the impending loss of his desired legitimate child. She had long been aware of the illegitimate daughter that Vivienne had given birth to.

Lady Vivienne had been a High Priestess as well, and she’d been powerful. Yet no one knows what became of her once the Purge started. Had she been killed? Was she still hiding somewhere in Camelot? Or had she fled to a neighbouring Kingdom that looked more favourable upon those with magic?

Nimueh would’ve loved to have this revenge together with Vivienne. To sit with her here, waiting for the night to pass before going to Camelot to witness this glorious event. But that was not the case. Instead, she was taking this revenge on her own.

But this revenge would be taken on behalf of all those who were accused and executed for possessing magic or aiding magic users in their escape from certain death.

Uther Pendragon was going to die a slow death after watching his son and heir expire. He was going to fade away, grief overtaking him, blaming magic and himself for the death of his only legitimate child.

After that, the throne of Camelot was for the taking. Anyone with enough manpower and support would be able to defeat the leaderless Knights of Camelot, kill Uther Pendragon, kill Pendragon’s most loyal courtiers, and usurp the riches of the land for themselves without much resistance.

It was the perfect plan.

Muriel woke up in the morning an hour before sunset, filled with the feeling that certain duties gave.

Excalibur stood ready in the corner, still sheathed in black dragon hide leather.

The Elmetian got up and dressed herself before looking out of her window, which looked out over the training fields and the combat pit. As expected, she saw the Black Knight standing there.

Wraiths didn’t sleep. They were undead.

“It is all or nothing today.” the young woman murmured. She opened the drawer of her closet, revealing a sword sheathed in intricately carved brown leather on top of white sheets.

Excalibur, the sword fresh from the blacksmith’s fire she’d gotten burnished by the Great Dragon when she made the decision to travel to Camelot. It was the only weapon that could kill the Undead.

The foreign Crown Princess then made her way to the young Pendragon’s quarters where Morris was busy polishing the armour to make it appear flawless for the upcoming battle.

“Good morning Morris.” the secret Royal greeted. “I see you’re getting His Royal Highness’s stuff ready.”

“I’m doing the last bit that I can.” the Prince’s manservant said, but in a much different tone than normal.

The magic user supposed she could slightly understand, as Morris believed that Arthur would suffer the same fate as Sir Owain yesterday. He was unaware of their plan, of the existence of Excalibur, of the conversations she and Arthur had held.

But she couldn’t say much about it without sounding suspicious.

There were simply things she could not divulge until the time was right.

Her true identity and status as a magic user could be uncovered, and someone desperate to receive the King’s praise or a quick pay-out could shill her out. The fewer people knew, the better. And for the moment, it was best that only Arthur, Gaius, and Morgana knew who she and her sister were.

The undercover Princess placed Excalibur on the table, ready for Arthur. She took a deep breath, praying to the Goddess Andraste that it would all work out.

Just like all magic users, she was a Celtic Pagan. It was yet another secret she had to keep from those around her, as Christianity had become the predominant religion since Roman occupation.

It was then that Arthur came walking in. “Myrdina, I had not expected you to be here.”

“I wanted to deliver your new sword myself, Sire .” Mura said. “I too came to wish you well in your duel, and profess a deep hope that the end will be swift. I will see you on the field.” and she made her leave, making sure she took the servants’ staircases instead of the main ones.

She was still careful about evading King Uther, thus often taking routes the man would never take if she was not in the company of Morgana, another servant, or a Knight. She’d seen him lurk a few to many times.

On the pitch, she reunited with Gaius.

“Is everything in place?” the old man asked.

The young woman nodded. “I delivered the sword and he’s getting ready with Morris. I do think he’s slightly nervous, but that is normal when you face an opponent who is not truly human.”

The court physician nodded.

“What can you tell me about the Du Bois family?” Muriel inquired.

“What is it that you wish to know?” the elderly man asked.

The black-haired woman took a deep breath. “Well, they’re obviously some form of nobility. Uther is not exactly a man who would marry a commoner, he would want his marriage to make an impact. Where are they from? Do they own any land, property, or something else that can be inherited? What was the entire family like when they were here in Camelot? How were they as individuals?”

Gaius hummed as he slowly nodded. “You are correct in your assumptions. The Du Bois family originally hails from Brittany, they still own an old castle there, and they also own land in Camelot’s south near the border with Gawant.”

“I see.” that did confirm the picture the foreigner had in her head of His Majesty.

“Tristan, Agravaine, and Ygraine were born to Aldric du Bois and Winifred of Munster. Despite Winifred’s high noble ancestry, the couple had little ambition beyond living a comfortable life in Camelot.” the grey-haired man continued. “Tristan, who was the youngest of the three, became a Knight here while Agravaine took care of the family’s estate.” he took a deep breath. “Uther fell in love the moment he and Ygraine met. He was absolutely devastated when he found out she was barren.”

Then, the medicine man realised he said too much.

“You mean to say Arthur was born through a magical intervention?” the oldest daughter of King Balinor and Queen Hunith questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Does Arthur know?”

The former sorcerer shook his head.

“I don’t think I have to tell you about what that means for Arthur, I hope?”

Being conceived through magic, it would be difficult for the Crown Prince to sire children if he did not lay with a powerful magic user. Should he marry to a non-magical individual, he would most certainly remain childless whereas a coupling with a Witch would likely lead to conception.

“Of course I am aware.” the man said.

The pair’s conversation would have to wait for a bit, as Arthur came walking towards the entrance gate in full armour while holding Excalibur.

The Camelotian exchanged silent glances with his counterpart before entering the sandy pit.

The entire crowd was silent, as no one dared to speak a word.

Muriel stood tall at the entrance, her hands clasped in front of her, and her eyes on the crowd. She knew that the Necromancer in question would likely be in attendance among the gathered crowd of citizens, blending into the masses. She closed her eyes and silently prayed to the Gods one last time, before opening them to watch the fight commence.

One of the watchmen removed the long red cape and handed over the shield emblazoned with the Pendragon crest. He then retreated back to his original position.

The light blonde then put on his helmet and began loosening his right wrist and arm with a few twirls with Excalibur… a move mirrored by the Black Knight.

Upon the sound of the drum, the Wraith attacked.

Fast and harsh blows, fueled by hatred and vengeance, meant to overpower his opponent quickly.

In that moment, the 21-year-old was more busy with blocking every move and jumping out of the way than actually providing any type of counterattack.

Morgana definitely flinched a few times as metal clanked together.

The physician’s assistant and bodyguard knew that Wraiths could be quite powerful. Their power depended on how fueled by revenge and anger they died, and it was clear to her that Tristan du Bois had died with an enormous desire for revenge towards Uther. She could only hope now that Arthur was strong enough to hold on until he could devise a plan to penetrate the undead creature with Excalibur.

After a couple of particularly menacing blows, the King’s son had seemingly devised a plan. He was now much more in attack mode rather than defence mode. He used his shield to bump the undead version of his uncle backwards, bringing the creature off balance, exchanged a couple of blows with the sword, and then used his damaged shield to bump the head back… making the rusty blackened helmet fall down.

The crowd grasped.

A mummified face was revealed with beige rotting skin, no more eyes in the black sockets, and it let out a terrifying growl which scared the crowd… and Uther.

The Elmetian Princess saw the old King’s blue eyes widen, even from the distance she stood. She held her breath, she could not allow people to think she wasn’t scared.

Suddenly, the Wraith seemed to find even more anger in its being. It swung it’s sword at Arthur, over and over again, continuing blow after blow after blow.

When the Prince fell back, Mura had to physically stop herself from intervening. She could not run onto the pitch, she could not reveal who or what she was unless the creature was actually about to kill Arthur.

But then, the blackened iron of the sword got stuck in a cut it had made on the top part of the shield.

Arthur kicked the undead creature back, which stumbled across the pitch almost against the wooden fence, and got up. With 2 hands, he held the grip of Excalibur and ran towards the mummy.

He pierced its chest.

Almost immediately, steam started to escape from its orifices which blew the Crown Prince back… knocking off his own helmet too. The spot where Excalibur had penetrated him began to burn, causing convulsions and finally the flames consumed him internally… blowing the remains to pieces.

It left burned pieces of bone and torn shreds of black fabric as a growl echoed through the city.

It left almost everyone in complete shock, including His Royal Highness.

Although, the Crown Princess of Elmet had quite a smirk on his face.

It wasn’t until Arthur got up on his feet that the crowd began roaring.

However, the Royal Prince wasn’t really looking at the adoring crowd or his stunned father. He was looking at the Princess from the north, visibly thankful for her intervention.

The Elmetian simply smiled and turned around to leave the pitch. She would see him later, undoubtedly.

---------

That night, a major party commenced in Camelot to once more celebrate the perseverance of the Pendragon dynasty against the evils of magic. People were getting massively drunk on wine and beer, keeping the serving staff quite busy.

However, the man of the hour wasn’t really there as his mind was on other things. Arthur was still thinking about the Wraith, as the mummified body had once upon a time been the living version of his uncle.

He may not have been told how a Wraith was created, but he had seen the rage oozing out. The growls and harsh blows with little tact had said enough… a deep seething anger had been present. He could reason that it was likely to be his father all that anger had been directed at, considering his father had pissed off a lot of people during his reign, although he didn’t know specifically the reason for his uncle’s anger.

Had it anything to do with his mother’s sudden death?

Had she perhaps been ill, but his father pressured her to continue trying for a child?

There were multiple possibilities in that regard, although it didn’t seem to make sense to him either.

It was known that dynasties needed to be continued through the bloodline, with direct heirs preferred to prevent a hostile takeover by a new dynasty or a fight between relatives. It was fairly similar with noble Houses, and his mother had been from a noble House.

“You look quite distracted.”

Arthur looked to his left as he was hanging onto the wooden railing looking over the courtyard. “Yeah… I was just thinking about that Wraith.

“Is there anything specific you’d like to know?” the Dragonborn dynast inquired.

“I don’t think you know why that Wraith was so angry.” the blonde commented.

The foreign Princess placed her hands on the railing too. “Gaius accidentally let something slip.”

“Gaius knows? What did he tell you?” the 21-year-old asked.

“I am not aware of the full story, but I have pieced a few things together.” the Crown Princess of Elmet answered. “You remember Nimueh, right?”

Pendragon nodded. “She’s been sending a lot of monsters our way.”

“Indeed, that woman.” the younger Royal said. “She once lived here, in Camelot, serving as court sorcerer.”

The blue-eyed man didn’t say anything or react.

“Gaius told me that your mother had been barren.” the woman’s eyes looked into his. “You know what that means, right?”

The only son of Uther Pendragon nodded. He was aware of what it meant… and it should have made his birth an impossibility. Thus, something must’ve happened.

“There was a magical intervention… by Nimueh.”

The Camelotian first looked down, then sighed, and then looked up to the sky. He did not speak.

Clearly, Muriel didn’t really know what to say either. Her eyes were apologetic.

“It’s not your fault.” the heir of Camelot said.

“I know. But it is still I who broke this news to you.” the dark-haired woman told. “Perhaps it was not up to me to share, but I did feel like you deserved to know. Sadly, I cannot look into the past and see whether your mother knew what it all meant. From what I’ve heard around the hallways, your mother was quite self-sacrificial… she could have offered up her life for you. Though I’m guessing she didn’t inform your father of the pact as otherwise he would unlikely have agreed with it or reacted the way he did.”

The words of his Elmetian counterpart made sense to Arthur. Yet to be honest, he didn’t really know what to think in that moment.

“The magic with which you came into the world is a very ancient form of magic.” the Witch told. “It exchanges a life for a life, to keep the balance as you are creating something that wasn’t supposed to be. It does usually ask for a willing sacrifice, but a particularly cruel magic user could snatch any life away.”

The Pendragon dynast turned around. “I take it you’ve been educated on this matter?”

“I was educated on all types of magic, even the dark arts of Necromancy.” Mura answered. “I know the mechanisms and the spells, and I can perform it. But because of the consequences of such magic, I will not do it without everything being thought through.”

“Is there a way to talk to my mother?” the Crown Prince inquired.

The question left the Dragonborn dynast stunned. She looked away for a moment before nodding. “There is one option which… has the least consequences.”

“Tell me about it.” the blonde instructed.

The Princess from the north gave the man before her a look. “The method I’m referring to would require us to be in the possession of an ancient horn, the ​​Horn of Cathbhadh, and be at the Stones of Nemeton on Beltane. The problem… no one knows where that horn is.” she took another deep breath. “There’s another method… but that method would give you only thirty seconds. It will probably leave you with more questions than answers in the end, and it cannot be repeated.”

The only son of Uther Pendragon let out a sigh of defeat.

“I’m sorry.”

The 21-year-old shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I just wish I could talk to her, ask her about this entire thing. Now I will be questioning everything about my own father.”

The Elmetian had a look of sympathy on her face, but didn’t speak. Instead, she just placed a hand on her counterpart’s shoulder.

In that moment, it was good enough.

Chapter Text

Anger was coursing through her veins, in a way that it caused her to be overwhelmed by it.

Those overwhelming emotions were making it hard for the High Priestess Nimueh to think, as they clouded her every thought as they had been for the past 21 years. She could have lived a good life in the Kingdom of Elmet, as King Balinor and Queen Hunith had taken in many refugees during the Purges, but her need for revenge on Uther and lashing out caused her to be exiled from that Kingdom as well.

While keeping a close eye on the city of Camelot and its inhabitants, the once powerful woman had noticed the presence of two of King Balinor’s daughters in the city.

Crown Princess Muriel and Princess Sybil, both of whom were powerful witches in their own right and could easily have reached the level of a High Priestess as daughters of the Dragonlord. Both were living the life of servants, far below the standards they were meant to be living.

The Crown Princess was a bodyguard to the Lady Morgana as well as the court physician’s assistant, yet was more often spotted in the company of Camelot’s Crown Prince as something of a confidante. Her younger sister had begun serving as a laundry maid, to accommodate her frail stature and episodes of convulsions.

However, the convulsions acted as a medical disguise to her Sight.

Something which Nimueh found rather clever, and often laughed at how gullible her former King was.

Many things may have escaped her in the past due to her need for revenge, but one did not need Sight to see the building relationship between Arthur Pendragon and Muriel Dragonborn. His lingering looks, her sleepless evenings, words that were never said between them…

‘Quite the irony.’ the dark-haired woman had often thought as she looked upon such a moment. ‘The son of a man who has come to despise magic so much, and a daughter from a long line of magic users falling in love… what a story that can be in the future.’

However entertaining it all was, the Priestess still wanted her revenge.

Revenge for the friends that had fallen during the Great Purge, revenge for her Sisters who had been slaughtered when the Temple was sieged, revenge for the death of her son … a boy she’d loved so fiercely that his death at Uther’s hands had become unbearable to her.

She had never spoken of Hector or Morgause’s paternity, as she had respected the Camelotian rules of nobility. She had played according to the rules, accommodating the family of her twins’s father… only to be stabbed in the back when something did not go exactly his way.

But now it was her turn to do the stabbing.

She was going to make Uther regret crossing her, or die trying. Her daughter would finish her mission.

Knighting ceremonies were always followed by a feast.

It was the 3rd feast in Camelot Sybil attended, but she had noticed both differences and similarities to the feasts her own parents held at their own castle in the city Loidis. She still fondly remembered her own coming of age feast as well as her older sister’s.

Music had played the whole night after they both passed the tests which had been laid out for them by the Council of Dragons, copious amounts of food and delicacies from all over Albion had been served, wine and beer had flowed all night long, the dragons flew their laps of celebration around the city… with the joy of it all having a reaction on the Fisher King as just for those evenings flowers bloomed across the land.

Camelot had the food, drinks, and musical entertainment. But there was a distinct lack of grandeur despite all the pomp and pageantry surrounding the events.

The young Seer supposed it was the lack of magic in the air that did it for her.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Adelina?”

The foreign Princess turned to find Camelot’s First Knight. “I’m doing pretty well so far. How about you, Sir Leon? All is going well for you this evening?”

The red-haired man nodded. “Thus far, yes. But that moment of the Black Knight still haunts my mind.”

“That was a rather scary moment indeed.” the Dragonborn dynast offered. “But I suspect that will remain a once in a lifetime thing, as few people die angry enough to become a Wraith.”

The Camelotian raised an eyebrow. “Not just every dead person can turn into such a creature?”

The 16-year-old shook her head. “Only individuals who die thinking of revenge beyond the grave whose physical remains can be reanimated can become one. And considering there are people who receive a viking burial or a cremation, the number of individuals will be small.”

Leon nodded. “I see. Well, that does lift my spirits. Will you drink one with me?”

“I suppose that can be done.” the Royal in disguise said before filling up the nobleman’s goblet. “Would this be sufficient for you?”

“Absolutely wonderful. Thank you, dear.” the Knight said before lifting his goblet.

The young Royal lifted her own metal cup too before taking a sip. “How long have you been First Knight?”

“About five years.” the older man replied. “Do you have any asparations for the future?”

The magic user blinked. “I suppose I have never really thought about that. I’ve been preoccupied with my ailments for as long as I can remember…”

“Your father has no husbands lined up for you then?” the redhead inquired.

“Oh no.” the brunette shook her head fiercely. “My father is not keen on that prospect. If anything, he’ll try to fight off any boy any of us brings home to meet him and mom.”

The First Knight of Camelot looked amused. “Quite understandable. Both you and Miss Myrdina are quite beautiful young women. Any father would be wise to be careful about whom his daughters marry.”

“Well… we’re with six so… he’ll have a lot of considering to do.”

The nobleman almost spit out his drink. “Six… sisters?”

Sybil nodded. “Yeah. My parents had seven daughters. Though my youngest sister didn’t survive infancy.”

The Camelotian offered her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry to hear that. An uncle of mine lost a son early as well, I suppose he’ll know what you all must have felt.”

“It was a time of grief.” the Seer said. “Still no day goes by without us thinking of her as she died such a cruel death at a young age… she was defenseless against what killed her.”

“Ailments are always cruel when they hit the young.” the curly-haired Knight looked over to his Prince. “Is it just me or has His Royal Highness been spending much more time with your sister?”

The 16-year-old looked over to where her sister was standing, noticing that she was indeed talking to the Prince again about something. “I suppose so.”

“I cannot put my finger on it, but it feels like there’s just something between them. I think it was already there when they met after that battle where Arthur and I barely escaped with our lives…”

The second-born daughter of King Balinor immediately knew the moment her companion was referring to, as she had foreseen her sister’s meeting with the Crown Prince of Camelot over 2 years ago. “Must be that bond Kilgharrah has been ramping on and on about.”

“Who’s Kilgharrah?” the local man inquired.

“A dragon.” the Witch whispered, making sure no one else around them heard.

Sir Leon slowly nodded. “I see. What has he been saying exactly?”

“Oh, some riddle about being the opposite side of the same coin.” the young woman answered, shrugging her shoulders. “Half the time you don’t understand what he’s talking about. Though with this I am suspecting it means a lifetime bond that will never be broken, two individuals from different worlds that can’t live with or without each other, a friendship that can withstand any blow it shall receive.”

“That’s… quite poetic.”the noble said. “You have quite a way with words, Miss Adelina.”

The brunette smiled. “Thank you, kind Sir.”

------

“Am I crazy or does my First Knight really like your sister?”

Muriel softly chuckled. “It’s been building since my sister had her episode on this very floor.” she looked at her counterpart. “Is there any issues I should be aware of if they decide to have a courtship?”

The son of Uther and Ygraine shook his head. “Knights and other noblemen can marry whomever they want if their families have not arranged anything. Leon was not a firstborn son, so he would be allowed to marry a common woman should he so desire.”

“I am pleased to know that.” the Elmetian said. She knew it would be devastating for her younger sister if there was any rules holding a potential love match back until it could be revealed that she was a Princess of Elmet… which could not happen before Uther Pendragon’s demise.

And who knows how long that was going to take.

The future Queen of Elmet wanted the best for her younger sisters, even if that meant keeping up the lie of being a commoner family from Ealdor. She was probably going to encourage her sister to write their parents about her courtship with Sir Leon, considering she didn’t want everything to come out of the blue.

“Sir Leon is a good man.” Arthur mentioned. “He’s been by my side forever, and loyal to a fault sometimes. I do think he’ll be good for your sister… especially because he already knows about who you actually are.” the latter part of that sentence was spoken in a whisper, but it wasn’t any less true.

The 17-year-old would agree with her counterpart. It was safer for Sybil to marry a man who was at the very least somewhat acceptive of magic, especially because they were living in the land where it could quite literally cost you your head if anyone spoke a word to His Majesty. “Speaking of marriage… I heard through the grapevine that your father had someone lined up for you?”

The blonde let out a sigh. “He has. I was a child when Father arranged for me to marry Princess Elena, the only child of King Godwinn of Gawant.”

Mura hummed. “Well… she’s not the worst Princess.” she smiled. “Between you and me, Princess Elena and Princess Mithian are the better ones. They’re not spoiled nor high maintenance.”

“Perhaps you’re correct.” the Crowned Prince stated before taking another sip of wine. “But I would rather marry for love instead of politics.” he took a deep breath. “Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t a Prince. Life would be a bit more simple, and I would be able to follow my heart.”

“Is this your silent confession to me that your eyes have wandered over to another girl?” the Elmetian inquired. “Is it Gwen? If it is, Morgana will have something to say about that.”

The blonde shook his head. “No. Though perhaps in a different world, I would have fallen in love with her.”

“You haven’t denied there might be another girl.” the foreign Princess in disguise said.

“Of course I’m not going to deny something that is somewhat true.” the Pendragon dynast stated. “Yet I am still questioning whether it is simple lust or complicated love that I’m feeling.”

The dark-haired woman smiled. “You’ll figure it out. If you’d excuse me, I need to return to my duties.”

------

Arthur was not in denial over his feelings. He was simply silent about them.

Should his father discover he held a torch for a woman who was not his intended, he would most certainly banish her from the Kingdom of Camelot to put her out of his reach. Uther was strict on the matter, as he did not want his son to have bastards who could become a threat for the peaceful continuation.

In his early years, he had always questioned where this sentiment had come from. He had not been taught about any skirmish for the Camelotian throne since the conception of the Kingdom during his history lessons from Geoffrey, so he suspected something a bit more recent.

After putting some pressure on the old man, Gaius revealed to him that Uther had been quite loose while his older brother Constantine had been the heir to the throne of Camelot and that after Constantine’s early death, Uther had to make sure none of his bastard children could inherit the throne. Hence his insistence that Arthur only had children in wedlock.

However, the Crown Prince was unsure whether he would want children with a woman he didn’t love.

He knew that it was highly unlikely that his political engagement to Elena of Gawant was going to become a love match. Yet he was also quite unsure what exactly he was feeling for Muriel.

Muriel was easy to like. She had a gentle personality, yet could turn into the Warrior Princess he’d seen on the day they’d first met. She was anything but slim and frail as a seasoned fighter, exceptionally intelligent for a woman of her status, considerate of the wisdom her elders gave her, and respectful of rules.

The blonde liked rules. They had provided him with a structure to keep him busy. He was at ease among his Knights, his peers, because they had the same sense of duty as he had.

But when it came to women and marriage, he could not be as free as the fifth son of a minor nobleman from the west. As a Prince, he had so much more to consider. His marriage was political and would impact dynamics with the other Kings in Albion.

Muriel was a Princess, born to a long line of powerful rulers, but she was a magical being. Just because of that, Uther would forbid the match.

Yet the Pendragon heir could not forget what he felt, nor could he ignore it.

He saw the Elmetian every day, whether she was with Gwen, another palace staffer, or Morgana. And it wasn’t making things easier for him, especially not with Morgana being as observant as she was.

Though he’d been used to her endless teasing for a long time now, right now it just wasn’t funny.

“My Lord, is there anything you still require?” Morris asked.

The 21-year-old looked at his manservant. “I’d like to go on a hunt tomorrow. Please make arrangements.”

“Will do, Sire.” the short man squeaked before running out of the hall, almost forgetting he was carrying a half-full jug of wine along with him.

‘Yes. Perhaps some time alone in nature with a crossbow was going to help.’

Morgana had quite quickly discovered that the young man she’d grown up with had become infaturated with Muriel. She’d noticed the longing looks, which had been there after those Sidhe had been discovered, as well as the preoccupied moments during family dinners, the dreamy looks in his blue eyes…

The noblewoman could understand why Arthur would be attracted to the Witch, as the other Royal was quite stunning in her appearance, despite the commoner garb she was hiding behind. Had she been a man herself, she probably would’ve made an attempt at courting.

Muriel was from a significant noble dynasty, as the Dragonborns had been the Kings and Queens of Elmet since the Fisher King had fallen ill to stabilize the vast marshlands in the face of tribal skirmishes and the later Roman invasion of Albion. She belonged to one of the few medieval families who had not been Christianized, as it was believed they descended from the Celtic Gods themselves.

Conversion to the Christian faith could very well mean the loss of their magic.

The Seer wanted the best for her fellow noblewoman, hence she was hoping for Arthur to come around and break off the arrangement his father had made all those years ago and just be with the woman he loved. But she also knew Arthur would then be in a difficult position, probably forced to choose between his position as heir to the throne and marrying his heart’s love.

But at least her fellow Seer had less trouble, as she’d found herself being courted by Camelots First Knight Sir Leon who was of a lesser noble family with land south of the main castle.

“What are you thinking about My Lady?” Gwen asked, noticing her Mistress’s absent gaze.

“Nothing too important.” the green-eyed woman answered. “Just thinking about how everything would be so much better without Uther being an absolute oaf. He’s an absolute classist!” she threw her hands into the air. “Seriously, someone really needs to bang that man’s head against a shield.”

The servant lightly chuckled. “Maybe he had a few too many blows of a sword when he was young.”

“Or a mace. Or an axe.” the second daughter of Lady Vivienne huffed.

The younger woman sat down on the sprawling 4-poster bed. “What’s got you riled up?”

“I’ve seen how Arthur looks at someone, someone Uther will never let him be with.” the woman who was claimed to be the most beautiful Princess in the Five Kingdoms said. “I just don’t think that’s right.”

The blacksmith’s daughter could only look with sympathy at the woman she served.

“I just feel horrified for him… it just shouldn’t be like this.” the very pale Lady stated. She then sighed, exasperated. “Why could the Gods not be any kinder to him? Why could they not knock some sense into Uther? Why do they allow us to suffer so greatly?”

All those questions… but never an answer to be given.

“I’m so sorry My Lady.” Gwen said.

“It’s nothing you can change.” the noblewoman sighed as she looked out the window.

Muriel had waved her counterpart goodbye when he left for a hunt with his manservant, making her way back to Gaius when she found the Palace librarian struggle with some wooden boxes. “Do you require some additional assistance?”

“I would be pleased.” von Monmouth said.

The foreign Princess waved a pair of Knights, Leon and Gregory, over to aid her.

“Where do you need these boxes?” the younger of the pair asked.

“I need them near my table, but stacked up neatly and not taller than three high.” the librarian said.

The Dragonborn dynast looked into the boxes. “What is all this paper?”

“A whole bunch of papers that were left behind by people during the Purge.” Geoffrey stated. “Everything that was even remotely valuable was chucked into boxes. Any coins and jewellery will be long gone, used to fill up the treasury. But now I’ve been tasked to find books and genealogy papers to add to our own collection, or perhaps find ways to counter certain magic.”

The secret noblewoman grimaced, but kept her mouth shut. “Shall I help you with that? I could remove the books for you while you handle the paperwork?”

“That would be fantastic. Thank you kindly, Miss.”

Mura smiled at the older man before she began rummaging through one of the crates. She placed the scrolls on the table first, then the books. She quickly figured out that none of the books in that first crate were remotely related to magic, as most were about fishing practices, Greco-Roman mythology, and pre-Christian farming methods.

So, she continued.

There were books on the written history of the Five Kingdoms, nursery rhymes, an old cookbook, a book about plants with healing potential, books on how to train dogs, a self-composed book of random sketches of people and animals, a book on farm animals for children… all quite normal.

Yes, there were a few books with spells. But it was the light type of stuff, how to heal a wound or make a heavy bag lighter. Yet there was absolutely nothing on Necromancy or a ‘how to murder’ book.

What the Elmetian did come across was an old diary.

She opened it somewhere random, and found the beginning of an entry.

‘It has been a while since I’ve written, but healing from the pregnancy I just went through was not easy.

Even for me, a High Priestess, giving birth to twins is no easy task.’

The dark-haired woman blinked. The diary of a High Priestess? Could be interesting. So, she continued.

‘The father of my children came to see me yesterday. Uther was quite over the moon.’

Wait… what???

The Witch squeezed her eyes shut before blinking, reopening them, and reading that line again.

Her eyes had not played tricks on her… she had read it correctly.

‘The Prince has not yet married. He is waiting for his older brother Constantine to marry the woman he’s been betrothed to since birth, Lady Rhiannon of Gwynedd. He remains positive he shall not be the heir to the throne much longer. I would argue the prophecies of the Old Religion claim otherwise, but he is quite stubborn and does not believe in the Old Religion as I do.

No matter, I will raise our children in the Old Religion, whether Uther likes it or not.

Hector and Morgause are their names, after my own parents, whom I’ve never known nor met.’

The 17-year-old quickly snapped the book close. “I remember I have to do something for Gaius. I’ll catch you later, Geoffrey!” and with the diary in hand, she ran out of the library.

On her way out, she almost ran into Sir Gregory, but managed to evade him in her rush.

The court physician nearly dropped one of his glass jars when she ran in. “Girl! What’s the rush.”

“I think you need to read this.” the woman from the north said as she smacked the small leather-bound diary on the table in front of the old man. “Found it while helping Geoffrey with some old books and paperwork.” she sat down to catch her breath.

Gaius raised an eyebrow but picked it up anyway.

After some time, the former magic user looked at the Royal in disguise. He didn’t speak, but he did have this look in his eyes that showed a conflict of some sort.

“Is what’s in there real?” Muriel asked. “Did Uther have children with a High Priestess?”

The grey-haired man sighed but nodded in affirmation.

The young woman took a deep breath and grabbed the book again, making the medicine man roll his eyes. She settled in one of the larger chairs and began making her way through the entire diary.

With every page she turned, there was another twist to the story she knew.

The High Priestess Uther had slept with was Nimueh, the very person he had asked years later to help him and his then wife Ygraine du Bois conceive. He had fathered her children, and had sworn her to be silent about it once his older brother died childless. He appointed her court sorceress, but never truly seemed to appreciate her efforts. He blamed her for his wife’s death, and murdered her son.

There was so much more in that diary, but those points made Mura rethink what she thought of Nimueh.

She had always perceived the older woman as bitter, overwhelmed by her need for revenge, unable to really think about the situation and how to handle it. But now… she supposed the bitterness made sense.

Nimueh had watched her son being set alight by his own father as she fled Camelot with her daughter, simply unable to truly grieve and go through the process in a normal way. Next to that, she’d suffered the loss of her fellow High Priestesses who had been unable to leave the Isle of the Blessed before the temple fell. She’d suffered multiple blows during the early days of the Purge… an event that should never have happened in the first place had Uther just listened .

But that was not the case.

Mura placed the book on the small table next to her. She required time to process.

Gaius made his way over to her, sitting down in one of the other armchairs. “It’s ironic, isn’t it?”

“I think ‘ironic’ doesn’t exactly cut it.” the Princess said. “But it’s definitely something.” she let out a deep breath. “I always questioned why she was so bitter… but I think I am beginning to understand.” she looked at the older man. “You were here during that time. How much did you see?”

The court physician sighed. “Everything.” he closed his eyes. “I helped Nimueh deliver her children, together with Alice. I can still remember those babies, as the girl was exceptionally strong but the boy was rather sickly in the beginning. Those children were born with a full head of hair, and they were also on the large side for a set of twins.”

“We know the son died, but what happened to the daughter?” the Elmetian asked.

“I believe she became the consort of King Cenred.”

The young Princess pulled a face. She knew that that could cause all sorts of problems in the future if Arthur had no children and there were no other legitimate heirs, as she had been taught about a lot of Albion’s history and all the wars there had been.

Morgause was, by blood, a Pendragon. She and the children she’d given birth to had a claim to the throne despite her being illegitimate. The claim would always be there, and it could mean another long drawn out war if a certain type of sentiment lingered within the ruling couple of Essetir.

When Arthur came back, the Crown Princess would have to talk to him about what she’d found.

“Uther wandered a lot before he became King.” the elderly man spoke up. “He was warned about the potential consequences by his own father, King Malcolm. He never quite listened. It’s a trait I fear Arthur may have inherited, although he seems to take more after his mother Ygraine. She was quite the voice of reason at this court.”

“She sounds like a good Queen, a Queen every other woman would want to live up to.” the 17-year-old said. She took a deep breath. “Do you know if Uther has any more illegitimate children?

Gaius raised an eyebrow. “What’s your plan?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping that if there are others who we can turn into allies, we can hopefully prevent any sort of succession wars in the future.” the woman from the north explained.

“Not a bad idea.” the court physician looked away for a moment. “I have always suspected that Lady Vivienne’s daughter, Lady Morgana, was also a product of Uther’s wandering. He has never confirmed it to me, but everything I have seen does point that way. If there are others, I do not know about them.”

The young woman nodded.

One other heir who could be turned into an ally was good enough.

“You are going to talk to Arthur about this, aren’t you?”

“He deserves to know. Any future ruler requires to know all about their potential enemies and allies. It is simply vital to one’s preparation for their future reign.” the black-haired Royal said. “Though I will never encounter this issue, I am aware that it is a problem in other Kingdoms such as Camelot.”

The former magic user really looked her in the eye. “Sometimes… you really are like your mother.”

That was something Muriel had been hearing quite a bit.

Her mother, Queen Hunith, had been one of Gaius’s many students. She had truly loved the work, but had eventually decided to move with her fiance to Elmet to start their family. She had originally been a village girl from Ealdor, and met King Balinor on a state visit 25 years ago. It had been love at first sight.

She had been kind, back then as much as she was now. She held deep love for her 6 surviving daughters, her King, her subjects, the creatures of Elmet, every stray they took in and gave asylum… she loved them all and freely offered her wisdom to those she loved. She kept her King and daughters grounded, and was deeply involved in Elmet’s religious matters as she led many ceremonies involving the Morrigan.

It was expected of the Crown Princess to carry out those religious duties in the future besides leading her country and taking care of the Fisher King’s wounds… with her future husband only needing to involve himself in the war room and be her pillar during court.

“She’s set quite a high bar for me to reach.”

Arthur didn’t quite know what had happened.

One moment, he was collecting the rabbits he’d shot with his crossbow to hand them off to his manservant. The next, he was lying on a patch of grass surrounded by the ruins of an ancient castle unfamiliar to him.

How had he ended up in this place? And where even was he?

What he did notice was the thick mist hanging around, that he was in some sort of courtyard next to a white block of stone that looked like an altar, and that he was definitely no longer in the woods he had hunted in. He did smell death, as if this place had been at the heart of it for a long time and all the blood had seeped into the stones.

The blonde looked at the towers he was surrounded with, making him feel small.

As if they stood there to keep things out… or keep him in.

‘This is getting strange.’ the Camelotian thought to himself as he got up. He felt naked without a weapon, as seemingly his sword, dagger, and crossbow were no longer in his possession. He also felt this funny thing that he had felt upon his first meeting with Muriel and when his dead uncle had jumped through the window… as if the stronghold he was in had been built with ancient magic.

“Ah, you have woken.” a female voice said.

The Pendragon dynast turned around to find a pale-skinned dark-haired woman in a red dress, staring at him with cold and dead eyes. “Where am I? And who are you?”

“I am Nimueh.” the woman proclaimed. “High Priestess of the Old Religion.”

“You’re the woman who’s been trying to kill my father?” the 21-year-old slowly asked.

A purr with little emotion behind it left Nimueh’s throat. “Indeed.”

“Look, I may never understand the immense grief you’ve felt, nor will I ever truly know whatever it is that my father did to you to make you feel like this…” the Crown Prince said. “... and maybe I do not have the right, but I need to ask you a question.”

The High Priestess looked upon him with suspicion, but motioned him to continue.

“I was recently informed that I was born of magic.” a statement which made the sorceress’s eyes go wide with surprise. “And I have been asking myself… how did that magic even work? Who decides who dies?”

There was silence for a while, the sound of a raven in the distance could be heard, before the dark-haired woman spoke up. “The Triple Moon Goddess decides who dies, though a willing subject can offer up their own life and strike a bargain.” her eyes slightly narrowed. “You are not like your father at all.”

“I did once aspire to be like him.” Arthur said. “But meeting Muriel…”

“Muriel? Crown Princess Muriel of Elmet? The daughter of Uther’s sworn enemy?”

Arthur really did not know why he had said that, but he nodded in affirmation.

“This is getting stranger and stranger…” the woman said, her voice now sweet like honey.
The blonde regained his composure. “Did… did my mother sacrifice her life, or was it the magic?”

“She went willingly.” was the answer, whispered to him by the wind.

The Crowned Prince nodded. “Thank you. I needed to know that.” he closed his eyes for a moment. “I am guessing you kidnapped me?”

Nimueh huffed. “That was quite easy. You and that other boy were out by the first spell.”

“Where did you leave Morris?”

“With your horses.”

That made the Pendragon dynast feel a little relieved. At least his manservant would make it back.

“You seem to care quite a bit about your servant.” the High Priestess stated.

“I would prefer not to be remembered as a King who was cruel to his staff, unlike my father.” the Camelotian deadpanned. He gave the woman a curious look, who was now watching him with glee. “If I may ask… what exactly did my father do to make you this angry?”

The dark brunette took a deep breath. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I know I won’t. But let me at least try.”

Another silence fell.

“Please.” the Royal pleaded.

The Witch took a deep breath. “He took my son. He was only ten.”

“I’m sorry.” the 21-year-old mournfully said. “What was his name?”

“Hector.” Nimueh said after a small silence. “His name was Hector.”

The Crown Prince nodded. “How… how did he die?”

“Bound to the pyre, together with at least ten others.”

It was already late in the afternoon, the sun slowly going down, when Muriel witnessed a panicked Morris gallop into the courtyard.

“The Prince! He’s gone!”

The Elmetian blinked quickly. ‘Gone? Did they lose each other?’ thus, she approached the distressed young man. “What happened?”

“We were in the forrest, and suddenly… I was back with the horses? I don’t know what happened, but His Royal Highness is gone!”

The foreigner raised an eyebrow, but she was unable to question Morris any further as guards took him inside… probably to bring the news to His Majesty.

‘Uther’s not going to react well.’ the 17-year-old thought. ‘If only I could potentially find the place where he went missing… I could potentially track where he was taken if it has to do with magic.’

She decided to go back inside again, performing a couple of duties for Gaius such as the afternoon medicine run and preparing the morning tonics. Afterwards, she set out to find Morris.

She found the scrawny teen sitting on the steps to the courtyard, slightly shaky and paler than normal. She sat down next to him. “Are you alright?” she asked. “It must have been a scary experience.”

The servant was still shaking as he nodded in affirmation.

The raven-haired woman took a deep breath as she looked to the main gate, watching as a squadron of Knights led by Sir Leon galloped out. “Why aren’t you going too?”

“They think I’m too shocked.” the young man answered.

“And are you?” the secret Princess inquired. “Too shocked to potentially find the place where it happened? Or do they think that the spot where it happened could trigger certain memories?”

The brunet shrugged. “The first, I think?”

The Royal in disguise took a deep breath. “Well. I am going to get a horse from the stables. Hop on.”

Morris blinked. “You… You want to go out there? Like right now?”

“Your memory is the freshest right now, and it provides us with the best chance of finding him.” the Elmetian stood up. “You’re coming? I am gonna go anyway.”

“But you don’t know where he went!?!?”

Muriel looked back as she made her way towards the stables. “I have my ways.”

But instead of actually getting a horse from the stables, she immediately went into the forest to get Clyde.

She wasn’t wearing any hunting gear or armour, thus the red linen dress would have to do. She wasn’t planning on being gone for too long. But she had something on the Knights… she had her magic. She could track down the exact spot where her counterpart had been taken from.

Eventually, the young woman did get to the exact clearing where it had happened.

There were even still a pair of dead rabbits lying there.

It was a waste, but that wasn’t why she was there.

Mura took a deep breath and let her magic waver out like threads of fabric to find Arthur’s signature and those who had touched him. She found him, and Morris, and… another .

A third presence had been in the clearing, a person with strong magic, a person who in that moment had a deep seething hatred overtake them. A sorceress she had met before.

Nimueh.

A wave of fear, something the future Dragon Lady had not felt since that fateful day of her youngest sister’s death, came over her. She knew instantly that her Prince could be in grave danger, if not already dead.

Although… she may have felt it if the other half of her coin had passed away prematurely.

Perhaps Nimueh was still holding him, trying to coax information out of him to use in the future.

The raven-haired woman took another deep breath and reached out again. She had to find out where Arthur had been taken. She followed the signature… and found the place.

The Isle of the Blessed.

The former stronghold of the High Priests and High Priestesses of the Old Religion.

That place was beyond the White Mountain range and the ridge of Landshire, in a lake connected to the Great Seas of Meredoc, and thus near Camelot’s border with Gwynedd and Dyfed. It wasn’t too far, and she would definitely be able to reach it before sundown if she was quick.

The 17-year-old remounted her horse and went into that direction… to Camelot’s west.

Her horse galloped with a consistent speed towards the Isle of the Blessed, causing her to arrive at the edge of the lake as the sun was about to go down.

However, the Witch had not expected that, through the mist, a boat with a ferryman would bring Arthur right back to her. She raised an eyebrow when she saw him, and worried if he might be enchanted.

“You wanted to come to my rescue, I see.” the blonde chuckled as he stepped onto the wooden pier.

“Well… yes.” the Crown Princess of Elmet said. “I thought you were in danger.”

The Camelotian hummed. “It was scary in the beginning but… it turns out Nimueh is just another grieving mother. And I can only sympathise with her, but hopefully she won’t be causing much trouble anymore.”

The raven-haired woman blinked. “What did you do?”

“I made a bit of a pact.” the 21-year-old answered. “Once my father dies, I will make magic legal again.”

The woman from the north threw him a look, suspecting there was more to it.

“And I gave her my word that I would give her son a worthy funeral.” Uther’s son confessed. “In the traditions of the Old Religion. So… I was wondering if you would help me with that.”

The Royal in disguise found it a strange request from Nimueh, but nodded. “She did not put a spell on you, I hope? I hate breaking curses.”

“Oh no! We just got talking after I woke up.” the Crown Prince of Camelot said as he climbed onto the tall horse behind his counterpart. He then wrapped his arms around the woman’s waist. “I really cannot imagine how such a thing must’ve felt back then, to lose a child at the hand of a man you trusted.”

‘I guess she didn’t tell him that that son was his halfbrother.’ but Muriel didn’t say anything about what she’d found. She simply steered Clyde back into the direction of the citadel. “We won’t get back before dark, so we will have to think about setting up camp somewhere in the woods before we reach the White Mountains.”

“Good idea.” the nobleman murmured. He fell silent after that.

They didn’t talk again until they decided to set up camp.

The young woman turned to the Knight, now sitting in front of the fire they’d lit. “It’s not like yout to be so silent. Was there anything else revealed to you that has shocked you.”

The Pendragon dynast took a deep breath. “I suppose I now know the true reason my father doesn’t want me near young women in private… because he made the mistake of sleeping with many women.”

‘Ah… so he does already know about some of his father’s affairs.’ Muriel motioned him to continue.

“I don’t know how many half siblings I actually have, because of the sheer number of women that have been in my father’s bed. Noble and common, local and foreign…” a deep sigh could be heard. “I don’t even know how many of them know they’re my father’s children.”

The Dragonborn dynast offered her counterpart a sympathetic look. She wouldn’t know what it was like to have to deal with a situation like that, because her father had never been with another woman but her mother. Her situation was easy, straightforward, no discussion possible. She was the next Dragon Lady.

“My father even slept with all nine High Priestesses before cutting their heads off… literally.” the young man shook his head. “I’m starting to ask myself if I ever truly knew my father.”

Mura didn’t speak. She just sat down on the fallen tree beside her fellow Royal and took his hand.

They just sat there in front of the fire, waiting for the rabbit meat to cook.

In the morning, Sir Leon lead another search party to find his Prince after the one yesterday had failed.

The King had been incredibly disappointed, and ordered multiple search teams to ride out the next day.

The Knight would have preferred to spend his time either on the training fields or with ‘Adelina’ while accompanied by Camelot’s court physician, but instead he was trotting around the forest where the young Prince had last been seen by his manservant to try and find him.

Personally, he felt like it was a lost cause. Whoever had taken Arthur, most likely someone with some degree of powerful magic, was probably already doing things to him that no one wished to imagine.

Leon’s team had moved a little towards the White Mountains, and they were at the entrance of the Pass of Camlann, which was an enormous plain between two mountains.

With eyes partially glazed over, the redhead looked across the plains when he suddenly saw a black dot. He blinked rapidly to restore his eyesight, and saw the shape of a big black horse coming into his direction carrying two people on its bare back.

The 26-year-old held a hand on his sword, until he saw the familiar raven-haired woman and blonde head. He began smiling from ear to ear. “The Prince! He’s back!”

------

To a degree, Arthur was glad to be back in his familiar citadel. But the implications of everything Nimueh had told him were weighing on him. He didn’t know how to look upon his father again, especially after Gaius basically confirmed that what the High Priestess had told him was true.

Hell, a one in a million chance find by Muriel that was Nimueh’s diary confirmed it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m glad you’re back, Arthur.” the older Pendragon had said that evening at dinner. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had you not returned alive.”

‘You would’ve had to admit you had illegitimate children.’ the Prince thought when he blew into his soup, but he wasn’t going to say anything about that. “And I am glad to be back here as well.”

“Who was it that had taken you?” Morgana asked.

The blonde hummed. “Oh, just a woman grieving the death of her son and sisters. They apparently died in the early days of the Purge. She wanted father to feel for a moment what she’d felt.”

A big omission, though not wholly untrue.

Nimueh was a grieving mother, and also grieving the loss of her fellow 8 Priestesses who had basically been her sisters for most of her life. She was grieving Hector, Lady Lynette, Lady Enid, Lady Anwen, Lady Esyllt, Lady Tydfil, Lady Rhonwen, Lady Nerys, and Lady Morwen.

They had all been too young to go, but they were murdered for their power.

The green-eyed woman at the table shot her fellow noble a sympathetic look.

“I understand her anger, but it is better this way.” Uther said. “In the last twenty-one years, Camelot has seen more peace than in the centuries before. Without magic, it’s easier.”

‘Yeah, but people live in fear of accusations every single day.’ the younger Pendragon thought.

“You’d do well to understand that those with magic cannot be trusted at any time.” the King spoke. “They lie so easily, pull you into a trap, and take everything you love from you.”

‘No. I trust Muriel with all my heart.’

Several weeks later, Balinor opened a letter he knew came from his oldest daughter as it was her bird who had dropped it on his bread before sitting down on the back of an empty chair.

------

My dearest father,

It has been a long time since I last wrote you.

Recently, we had a curious and wholly unexpected event.

I miraculously stumbled across the High Priestess Nimueh’s diary while simultaneously Arthur got kidnapped by the woman in question. No harm was actually done, but we both found out in our own ways why Nimueh turned as bitter as she did.

As it turns out, Nimueh had a son named Hector who was burnt on the pyre by Uther in the first week of the Purge. The same son who had been fathered by his murderer. It is incomprehensible.

Nimueh made Arthur promise to legalise magic upon his enthronement, as well as holding a proper funeral in the traditions of the Old Religion for the son she has lost. He has asked my help for preparations.

Naturally, I have agreed to his request. Once we have the items we require, Arthur and I will travel to the Lake of Avalon for this ceremony. Hopefully, it will bring rest to a tortured soul and it is the least we can do for a woman still grieving the loss of her child.

For the moment, Nimueh resides at the old temple complex on the Isle of the Blessed.

Though her grief does not excuse what she has done, Arthur seems to have forgiven her yet not forgotten her past actions. If he is ready to make that step despite Nimueh’s attacks on him, I think I can too, and I hope you eventually will as well.

I wish I could come home for my 18th birthday, but I fear my absence may be thought of as suspicious. But when I do get back home in a bit, we can hold the celebrations in true fashion.

With sincere regards,

Mura

------

The King of Elmet did stare at the letter for a while before placing it down beside him to let everything sink in. He was no stranger to grieving parents as in the first 5 years of the Purge in Camelot he had received too many mothers and fathers at his court who were grieving the loss of a child at Uther’s hands, and most of them had not turned as bitter as the High Priestess.

However, with the revelation that Uther had been the child’s father put Nimueh in a different position than all those other parents. She had not only been betrayed by her King and a man whom she advised in her position as court sorceress… she had also been betrayed by the man who had fathered her children. The betrayal she had suffered was far deeper.

The father of 6 could not fathom how his own wife and daughters would feel if they were to be betrayed like that in the future, though he sincerely hoped they wouldn’t. His oldest 2 were growing up fast, and he was noticing it in their recent letters to him.

Sybil had begun a courtship with a Camelotian Knight, a man 10 years her senior who knew and accepted her older sister’s magical abilities and was willing to play along with the lies to keep their covers. She’d confessed the pair of them were debating marriage, and that she had met the Knight’s parents who were ‘positively surprised with her decorum and ladylike manners’ as they accepted her as a potential bride for their younger son.

And Muriel… she was growing closer and closer to the Camelotian Crown Prince every single day since their meeting just across Elmet’s southern border with Camelot. They were not actively courting, probably still in denial about what the bond between them truly was, and Muriel was probably doubting she could produce an heir who ticked the boxes of both Kingdoms.

But hopefully, change would be in the air soon.