See The Devil On The Doorstep [Arthur]

[Catalina Regalis]

Never been so many and we've never been so alone

Sleep eluded the young druidess as she lay on her pallet in the early morning. Sleeping beneath the stars had always been a favorite pastime of hers, a freedom that those in their noble houses could never comprehend. Amusing how when she could not sleep, her mind went to deep thoughts regarding those in power and those with power. Her sister Samara would surely have laughed and told her younger sister that she thought too much and her Uncle would have let her too her contemplations without much commentary. Perhaps Samara was right though, maybe Catalina thought too much on subjects that she would hardly be able to change, not from a lack of trying of course but from a lack of opportunity.

The night sky had vanished and had been replaced with the sight of the sun rising over the horizon. It was a beautiful sunrise, bathing the sky with brilliant reds and oranges and chasing away the darkness. It was almost poetic.

Feeling that she had laid there awake for long enough, Catalina rose from her pallet and dressed herself for the day while others within the small encampment continued to rest. They would be leaving within the next few days, it was their way. Some druids remained where they were, making their home within the calm forests but her Uncle was too paranoid to remain in one place for too long. It was most likely the loss of his sister and brother-in-law that cited such a paranoia. It was understandable of course and he also wished to protect his people, his two nieces especially.

Brushing a strand of golden hair from her face, Catalina grabbed her red cloak that her sister had made for her and sighed. It seemed that her mind was forever on making healing poultices, mere precaution or the fear that the one time she chose not to make any that they would be greatly needed. Needless to say that it was sometimes quite annoying to overthink things but better to be safe than sorry. Gathering herbs would help put her overworking brain to rest she figured, so taking hold of a basket, she walked away from her encampment into the forest. She was at home in the forest, no matter where the forest was located. The advantage of this particular forest was that she could only just see the towers of the great Castle of Camelot in the distance. It was magnificent even at a distance. She could not help but be in awe of this.

Perhaps it was foolish of her to leave without letting someone know where she was going but really, she was an adult so she could take care of herself. Well, she figured she could anyway...

Usually the only threats the Druids came under was that of the guards sent by Uther. The Great Purge had been twenty years ago and yet those with magic were still persecuted and burned or drowned. It was horrible really. Sighing, Catalina did what she could to shake the rather morbid thoughts from her mind and focus on the task at hand, mostly the gathering of various herbs to make her poultices as well as practice her craft. The snap of a twig caught her attention but it was nothing to fear, a doe and it's fawn. Smiling, the golden-haired druidess approached them but before she got too far, they both ran off as though spooked.

Strange since animals rarely fled from her. "Hey there girly." She heard behind her, her heart racing as she turned to face the owner of the gruff voice laced with dark intent. He stood at the crest of a hill not too far from where she stood now, it had been his presence that had spooked the two deer and now he had his sights set on her. Run... that was her first reaction, to run! She would have done it as well had it not been for the two ruffians that cut off her exit. "Please don't.." She trailed off in a whisper, her blue eyes widened as she tried to think of a way out of this. Despite their obvious want to hurt her, she couldn't bring herself to want to kill them or hurt them really, she simply wished for an escape. "We'll take good care of ya lass, won't we gents?" The tall dark haired rogue said with a laugh as he made his way towards her.

Not good...so not good!

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Tags; Arthur
Word Count; 747
Lyrics; "We Are" Ana Johnson
Time-frame; Early Morning - One Year Gap

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was not in the best of moods. He had just spent the entire night in yet another failed attempt to find Morgana. This search had been more so done by himself instead of a party arranged by his father. While the king strongly disapproved of Arthur going anywhere on his own, so long as he was searching for Morgana, he seemed to be more inclined to accept this seemingly reckless behavior. But the young prince felt like he was not getting any closer to discovering her whereabouts. And each day she was gone, he felt more and more at a loss. They had been searching every day as much as they could . . . and there was nothing to show for it. Not only that, the city was still recovering from the dragons attacks, and on top of everything, they were on the brink of war with Cenred. Yes. All these things, on top of the Prince's inability to sleep to begin with put him in an impatient mood. Never the less, he would not give up in searching for Morgana; he would keep up with reparations; and he would never let Camelot fall to Cenred.

He was pulled out of these dwelling thoughts however when he suddenly heard a distant murmuring. It would not have struck any interest in him had he not sworn he heard a softer voice among them. He trusted his instincts enough to react to them. He slowly brought his horse to a halt, knowing that with the thick trees ahead, it would be easier to get there on foot. He quickly tied the reigns, and pulled out his sword . . . just in case. Ever since Morgana had been abducted, and ever since Cenred had been administering small attacks in Camelot, Arthur was paranoid. Better to be safe than sorry anyway. So with that thought in mind, he continued to walk forward, sword out in front of him. He made sure that his steps were careful and light, as if he was sneaking up on his prey. He did not want to give them the upper hand of knowing he was coming for who knew how many were ahead. Truth be told, they may not be doing anything wrong at all.

But this possibility was quickly dismissed for in the distance his gaze rested on a young woman, and three men. That was all he needed to see to know that the men were not of innocent nature. The way they surrounded her, and the way that one of them began to advance towards her . . . yes. She was a victim and they were the attackers. He felt a wave of anger and disgust fill him, as it normally did when witnessing such sights. He despised men such as these ones; preying on young woman. It was revolting to say the very least, and as the people were his responsibility, he would NOT stand for men doing such acts of perversion. His already impatient mood made his intolerance for such acts even greater, which was why he did not waste a moment. He quickly stepped into view, quickly assessing the situation. Three men. All armed. One woman. This shouldn't be too difficult, right?

The men did not seem to react to his presence, other than his appearing out of no where raising a bit of curiosity. As Arthur was dressed in regular attire, baring no seal of Camelot, he could easily be mistaken for a commoner and in this particular instance, it seemed to be the case. With the way they were looking at him, the ruffians did not seem to know who he really was. Arthur was unsure if this same uncertainty fell upon the woman, but it did not matter right at this woman. All titles aside, what they were doing -- or trying to do -- was terribly wrong, and as previously established, Arthur would not stand for it. Holding his sword in front of him, he began to slowly step towards the two men who were blocking the woman's exit, making dead eye contact with the man who seemed to be in charge; the one who had been advancing her. "Let her be," Arthur spoke. His voice was authoritative and demanding. He doubted they would comply, for it usually took more than one command to have such barbarians listen.

Especially under a case such as this one when they didn't know who he was. But he was not going to stand here and debate. And judging from their amused, unamused expressions, they were not going to listen to him either. In fact, they acted even more defiant as one of the men, the one in front of her, quickly grabbed the girl by and held a dagger to her throat. "Or what?" He asked in a mocking voice and taunting voice. Arthur knew he would have to act more cautiously now, for the woman was in even more immediate danger than before. He remained still, his eyes narrowing at the ruffian. But he was not about to walk away from this situation, and leave the young woman at the wrath of these barbarians.

"I will not say it again," he added in a more warning and threatening tone of voice. It held a strong air of confidence. He knew he was outnumbered, that did not matter. He knew how men such as them fought. He knew they would attack out of anger; lacking any sort of technique in their footwork and overall movement. It was why Arthur felt the confidence in becoming the victor. Of course, it did not help that one of them had a dagger to her neck, for it made the Prince fear for the poor woman, who was clearly undeserving of any of this.

[[ Sorry for the slight god mod! If you would like me to edit, just say the word and I won't mind at all!! ]]

[Catalina Regalis]

Never been so many and we've never been so alone

Well this just figured didn’t it! What had started off as a beautiful morning filled with promise had now become a frightening ordeal that may very well end with her demise. So not how she wanted to go either… She had so much to live for and potential that she hadn’t reached yet, she knew she had a destiny in front of her and it wasn’t supposed to end here. It wasn’t! Truly, had it not been for the vagabonds that now surrounded her, she might have thrown a little tantrum then and there. Not that Catalina was subject to tantrums but there was just something so unjust about this. Amusing how she had already accepted this moment as one before her imminent death, talk about a pessimist. Well, more a realist really since it was quite early in the morning and none of her kin would know just where to look for her. Aside from her Uncle who always seemed to know just where she was at all times but that was due to his power in druidism. Perhaps he would save her…there was still time but considering how many there were, would he make it in time?

Why was it that when she needed her magic most, she couldn’t think of a single defensive spell that would get her out of this mess? Her pleading fell on uncaring ears as the man who went by Bastian continued to advance towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she took a few steps back every so often as he moved closer. Not that it put much distance between them nor would it delay what he wished to do to her either. Her basket filled with the herbs she had been gathering fell from her trembling hand. “I have nothing of value. Please leave me be.” She pleaded as the three closed in on her, the two behind her did not touch her but they would hardly allow her to get past them either. No weapons were produced but it was obvious that they were not needed to intimidate the young woman. The look of lust and malicious intent was all that was needed to strike an icy fear into her heart. “Now that’s a shame isn’t it lads. Nothing of value..” He laughed mockingly as he reached out and brushed her hair from her face. “I think we can manage with what we’ve got now.”

Catalina flinched away from his touch, which brought on another peel of laughter from him. Just his touch alone sent shivers of fear down her spine and she took another small step back. “You’s one of them druids, ain’t ya wench?” His voice was lowered, so it is doubtful that the approaching Prince was able to hear it. Her oceanic eyes widened, he knew the druids were here? Had they been hunting them for long? Bounty hunters? Magic catchers? She heard of those that caught those with magic and would enslave them, binding their magic somehow. She didn’t want to end up like that. Such a fate would surely be a fate worse than death. Though perhaps such tales of people like that were simple fable and nothing more. When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her chin harshly and snarled in her face. “I’m talking to you!” God, if his sword didn’t kill her, his breath surely would. What should she do? Lie and protect her people? She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the sound of an unfamiliar voice firmly demanding for her to be let alone. She was pushed back a bit as Bastian turned to regard the Prince who did not look like a Prince at all. Well…this was fortuitous.

It was human nature really, the sight of the sword always made Catalina very nervous, even if it was being used to defend her. Unlike the uncouth vagabonds that had her surrounded, Catalina was well aware of the man who came to her rescue. Prince Arthur Pendragon, the Prince of Camelot and future King. How could anyone not know him? That being said, these men seemed foreign to her, perhaps bandits or bounty hunters for Mercia or something like that so their ignorance could be forgiven though the same could not be said for their behavior. Of all the people Catalina had figured might come to her aid, the Prince was definitely not one of them. She had barely any time to react before she was grabbed and a dagger was held to her throat. She remained as still as possible at this time, fearing to even breathe in case his hand slipped. Bastian was mocking Arthur now, enjoying the power he had over the druidess as well as her intended rescuer. Would he have chosen to continue this course of action if he knew who Arthur actually was and even more importantly, would Arthur had risked his life for a druidess like herself? Questions questions…

”I agree, you won’t say it again because dead men do not speak.” Still holding the dagger to her throat, he gestured for his two men to attack Arthur. He had his prize and wasn’t going to willingly relinquish his hold on her just yet. “Loot his body after you’ve killed him and than join up with us.” Both men looked to their leader with a nod before turning back to Arthur, both having their swords drawn. Two against one lone man, surely the odds were in their favor. With the orders given, Bastian started to drag Catalina back with him, dagger still in place. Why couldn’t she think of a spell? She had thought up at least two but they were both rather volatile and considering the situation she was in, there was no telling she’d be able to focus enough to get off the spell without hurting herself in the process. She’d just have to hope an opportunity came where she could use a spell. Of course, that being said, did she want to risk using magic in front of Prince Arthur? She didn’t wish to escape one sentence just to rush into another…

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Tags; Arthur
Word Count; 1012
Lyrics; "We Are" Ana Johnson
Time-frame; Early Morning - One Year Gap

[Arthur Pendragon]

Revolting. Utterly despicable! Arthur had just about enough of these men. Loot him after he has killed him? Right. Yet Arthur was not a fan of the whole notion of 'trash talk'. He never felt the necessity to provoke his enemy. It was a waste of breath, especially when a small battle was inevitable. Why waste energy in showing his adversary that their words and actions created such rage in him. It was why it was imperative to keep composure in the midst of a fight. Any indication of anything otherwise, would show weakness. Rage would lead to irrational actions. The Prince knew this first hand for he had fought before in a blinding rage which had only hindered his actions. And in moments like that, it seemed all semblance of training left him. All he would be able to focus on was defeat; killing he who dared speak and act out against him. But this did not happen on a frequent basis, for it took quite a lot, and the dead on words to truly fill the prince with such a level of anger.

Right now, was not the case. While he felt sickened by what the men were doing to the poor woman; while he felt intense fury for such bullying and violent acts towards her . . . he was composed. He was ready. He watched the two men ordered to 'kill' him as they slowly began to advance towards him. The menacing look in their shows demonstrated their confidence in achieving what they were ordered to do. The leader also seemed to share this confidence as he slowly began to drag away the girl. Arthur needed to act quickly. He turned the sword in his hand, loosening his wrist, preparing for the first attack for he knew, just from their stance and from their apparent desire to fight . . . that one of the two of them would be the ones to initiate this fight.

And he was right. For one of the bandits lunged at him. Arthur easily enough blocked the blow, feeling the strength of its impact. So while the man had no training whatsoever, he had brute strength on his side. His blows would be unplanned, and wherever he felt he could get a hit in. This was something that could be used to Arthur's advantage. While he pulled away the blade of his sword from the other man's, the second bandit chose now to move forward in his attack. They may be stupid, but at least they had the least bit of intelligence as they simultaneously agreed to make it more difficult for the prince to fight a two front battle. Never the less, he remained confident. He blocked the second attack, ducking while a second sword was swung at him. During all this while, Arthur was trying to see if the girl was alright. The leader was either going to wait for the outcome of this before he did anything . . . or he was going to use them as a distraction, hold her hostage and drag her out of here. Arthur could not risk the second possibility.

He just needed to end this. In his slightly hunched position from having ducked, he turned his sword and with all his strength, slammed the hilt of the sword right into the man's stomach. This caused him enough pain to briefly impair him, while the other bandit realized his chances of success had somewhat decreased. While one clutched their stomach, taking a few steps back, Arthur focused on the other. He grew angry at his friend's brief inability to combat, and began to blindly swing at Arthur. Arthur blocked, and then blocked again . . . this was getting tedious. By the time he had the third block, he spun around in a circle so that he was standing to the side of the bandit. In this position, he slashed his sword right into the man's chest creating a lethal slash; a wound strong and severe enough to instantly kill him. It had been so swift that he could not even speak; he just fell to the ground, never to rise again.

The first bandit who now seemed to be recovered from the blow into his stomach, came charging at Arthur, yelling out a barbaric cry. How . . . intimidating. Not. With this man, Arthur only had to block once, and then managed to get out a clean punch right across the man's jaw, the impact of hit sending him stumbling to the side. With that, Arthur finished him off. He forced the sword into his chest, making sure it was in deep enough to kill him almost instantly. Arthur was not cruel enough to wish a slow and painful death on his victims. He lifted his foot onto the man's chest -- this being easier as in his moment of dying he was a bit crouched -- and pulled it out with the help of the stability provided by holding up his foot against the man's chest. Once the sword was out -- as it had been the only thing keeping him standing -- he too fell to the ground, joining his friend in death. Now that that was taken care of, he immediately focused all his attention on the man with the woman, which had been the root cause of this entire situation.

"Let her go!" Arthur demanded once again, recognizing the repetition in his words. But hopefully, with what he had just done . . . the man would finally realize that he was outmatched and no longer had the benefit of outnumbering one person. He took very slow, very careful steps towards him and the woman, never averting his gaze for one moment. She was in a very delicate position for one swift movement, and her throat would be slit. So Arthur was fully aware that he had to tread carefully, and be careful of what he said so that he would not provoke the man to do something too drastic. He did not seem to listen or show any sort of compliance for he continued to drag her away. "Nothing good will come of this; only your death." But it seemed that considering the nature of this man . . . his death would be a good thing. With that being said, Arthur never enjoyed killing anyone. But what had to be done, had to be done. "So you would be wise to comply," he added. But once again, he knew that intelligence seemed to be one of the many lacking traits in this man. Still. He would give him one final chance before doing something -- even if he was not entirely sure what that something was yet.

[Catalina Regalis]

Never been so many and we've never been so alone

The bitter sound of battle could be heard from behind Catalina and Bastian as he sought to steal her away. She was aware of the Prince’s reputation as a fantastic swordsman but was he capable of handling two at once? Despite not having called out for help or even asking for someone to rescue her, she would feel terrible if the Prince lost his life in an attempt to rescue her. It would be her fault and nothing would change that. She shouldn’t have gone out on her own and she should have been able to defend herself. She had the training, she had been trained since she was a small child how to wield her magic and yet when she most needed it, it seemed to leave her. Had she no regard for those around her, assailants or not, she would have easily been able to dispatch them but Catalina hated confrontation and she froze when it came to a fight. She had been turned away from the fighting so she was unable to decipher what exactly was going on with Arthur and the two thugs he had been left with. The clash of swords was so loud though, almost made her head hurt. Still, her head hurting was better asked for than a slit throat, something that was definitely possible.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Bastian said as he continued to drag Catalina away. “You’re more profit to me alive girl.” Where was he taking her? Would he return for her people once he had her locked away? The thought of her nephew Ramos being hauled off in a cage was too much for her to bear. She couldn’t allow that fate to befall her family, she’d sooner die. Despite her hatred of all things violent, the need to protect her family and herself to a lesser extent took over and she decided that if it meant the death of this horrid man, than so be it. Only if it came to that point, she’d sooner knock him out and have her people flee, she couldn’t handle having blood on her hands. It would drive her insane. That was most likely one of Uther’s biggest problems… No! Not the time to contemplate Uther and his problems with magic, she had other problems to handle. Focus, she had to focus!

The smell of death hung in the air. Blood had been spilled in her precious forest, a terrible travesty if ever there was. The question was, who’s blood had been shed? Would Camelot mourn the loss of their Prince that night? Nothing cut sharper than such an image playing in her mind then, not even the blade that was held at her throat. She had begun to struggle at this point, feeling that it was all up to her and if she died, than at least she died fighting for her freedom. Her struggles were in vain though given her distinct lack of strength or surprise. All that it got her was the feel of flesh parting as he cut her, drawing blood and causing her to yelp in pain. He hadn’t cut deeply but it hurt just the same, a bead of blood training down her throat. “I said I didn’t want to kill you, didn’t say nuthin about not hurtin ya.” He growled as they neared where he had his cage waiting. It was large enough for at least ten people, perfect for a small group of traveling druids. The girl must not have been that powerful if she had done nothing to protect herself. Sure, he heard they were peaceful but still, he expected some fight out of her and this was all he got. Disappointing to say the least.

"Let her go!" Arthur’s voice? Turning around quickly, Bastian stared at the Prince with wide eyes, clearly surprised that it was Arthur who had survived and not his men. His brothers. Arthur had killed his two brothers. “Let her go? Is that all you can say?” Really original there Arthur. Clap clap. Still, despite Arthur being the better swordsman and most likely could kill Bastian in one fell swoop, he still had the advantage, he had the girl. His attention was on the blonde haired girl at this point, completely ignoring Arthur as he spoke to show that he had no intentions to comply with whatever he was saying. “Use your magic on him.” He demanded gruffly to her, she had to be useful for something! “If you kill him, than I will spare your people and just take you.” Oh yeah, that was totally a fair deal…not! She wasn’t stupid and she wouldn’t attack an innocent man who was trying to help her.

Turning her to face him was a mistake because she spit in his face to show him just what her answer happened to be. Instinct took over for Bastian and he slapped her hard across the face. Had he not cared for a profit, he would have run her through with his blade but no, he didn’t want to have to trek through the forest and meet up with druids who would defend themselves. Tossing her aside for the moment, Catalina fell to the ground, dizzy from the slap, blood slipping from the corner of her mouth. Bastian had done a foolish thing in his anger, he had lost his bargaining chip and chose to face off against the Prince with his dagger and sword in his hands. His arrogance showed, as did his rage for his fallen brothers as he rushed at the Prince. While Bastian was indeed a scoundrel, he was actually quite good with the sword and would prove to be someone who wouldn’t succumb to Arthur’s blades as easily as his brothers had.

A spell, she had to use a spell but what? She didn’t want to kill anyone, that wasn’t her nature despite what a horrible man Bastian was. He’d have killed her by now if it hadn’t been for his knowledge of her magic and yet still she couldn’t bring herself to hate him enough to want to kill him. Biting her lip, she took a moment to clear her mind and focus. Not easy due to the headache that was approaching. It was because of that impending headache what happened next… “Mamera .” She uttered softly, her eyes flashing gold as she directed the spell at the man who had attacked her. However, the fact that they were both moving along with her lack of aim due to her headache, she ended up missing Bastian completely and hitting Arthur instead.

If anyone had invented a swear word at that moment, it would have been Catalina. Her eyes widened as Arthur was hit and went down like a ton of bricks. It was a simple sleeping spell, nothing deadly since she didn’t like using deadly spells but it wasn’t good at all. Thankfully Bastian didn’t have time to run Arthur through with his sword before she aimed the same spell at him and got him. He too fell to the ground hard. This was just great, she had taken out the man that would have hurt her but she also knocked out Arthur as well. If he hadn’t been wanting to order her execution before, this certainly would do it. What could she say? “Thanks for rescuing me, sorry about the sleeping spell. It was an accident?” Oh yeah, that was great…cept it wouldn’t work!

Getting to her feet, Catalina rushed over to Arthur’s side and checked his pulse. He was alright, just sleeping…and snoring. Great, what was she going to do now? She couldn’t carry him back to her encampment but she couldn’t just leave him there either. Turning to Bastian, her eyes hardened and her jaw set. She didn’t wouldn’t let him to just get up and walk away, not with knowledge of where her people were. “Ymbseten.” Her eyes flashed and slowly vines grew forth out of the ground and began to wrap around Bastian, securing him to the ground should he awaken while Arthur was being tended to. Her Uncle would know what to do with him.

Sitting next to Arthur, the young druidess panicked slightly. “Come on…wake up!” She yelled, pushing on him a bit but he still slept. It wasn’t a deep sleep that could never be awakened or anything like that but he was out like a light. “Narf.” She whispered, trying another spell to wake him up but it didn’t work as she had hoped. There was a small flash of light and there slept Arthur…with pink hair. Oh boy…

After about twenty minutes of sitting there, her Uncle finally found her and Arthur as well as Bastian who was still out as well. Aldriv hugged his niece tightly before Arthur was gathered by the druids and taken back to their encampment. Aldriv stayed behind with Bastian to take care of his memories of the druids as well as his niece. Had the druid been a vengeful man, he would have killed Bastian for his intent on his niece but he wasn’t.

When Arthur finally awoke, he would find himself inside one of the main tents on a small pallet. The only person who would be there would be Catalina who was sitting with a small bowl on her lap, not really looking at Arthur just then.

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Tags; Arthur
Word Count; 1570
Lyrics; "We Are" Ana Johnson
Time-frame; Early Morning - One Year Gap

[Arthur Pendragon]

Yes. That was all he could say, for soon, he was going to start acting on it. It was his next words that alarmed the prince. Magic? Wait . . . she was of magic?! Well that certainly changed things around. Or did it. Arthur could not say that he regretted saving her just because she seemingly was of magic. Plus, there was every possibility that this man was lying, or misinformed. But when he kept talking, claiming to 'spare her people' if she complied, that only made Arthur all the more curious. But there would be a time to ask questions and now was not it. Whether she was of magic or not, the main priority was to ensure her safety. Then, he would have to figure out the rest. It would seem a bit contradicting to go through all this, only to arrest her, drag her back to Camelot and have her tried and sentenced to death anyway. Again, Arthur had to push these thoughts out of his mind, or at least set them aside for the time being. She was still a young girl. One who's life was being threatened by this man who's intentions did not seem too noble.

It was easy to set aside these thoughts especially when he saw the next scene unfold. She had spit on him, only to be returned with a strike across the face. Arthur quickly took a step forward. It was natural instinct for any knight to feel protective over a woman, and Arthur was certainly no exception. Perhaps, he was even a bit of an extremist in this matter. Never the less, he felt even more hostility towards the man for hitting a defenseless woman for . . . a completely unjustifiable reason. It was clear, just as it had been in the beginning, of who was the victim and who was the attacker. Arthur was not oblivious to his less than strategic move either. The man had lost his leverage and it seemed difficult to regain it as Arthur now took advantage of the situation to move forward, towards Bastian. Even if Bastian had not come charging towards him, Arthur would have swung for the first blow. It was now or never! And he could only hope that while he fought this man, the woman would quickly making her leave so that she would not risk her life by remaining here.

Bastian had been a better combatant than Arthur had anticipated. His moves were not done as blindly as the others he had just recently fought. It made sense now why he led the others, for he seemed like the one who was the most well versed with a sword. Still. A lifetime of training did not compare to these bandits . . . or at least Arthur was confident in believing so. Instead of underestimating his enemy and assuming that the victory would come swiftly, he made his moves more calculated, realizing he would have to use more strategy rather than strength. Each step Bastian did, Arthur countered it with a less expected one, so that he could have the element of surprise on his side. Arthur was also trying to subtly take control of the direction of the fight. He was moving it away from the girl. He was creating more of a distance and diversion so that she would hopefully make a run for it. Though this did not seem to be the case for in the corner of his eye, he noticed her remaining presence. He wanted to tell her to leave, but the last thing he needed was for Bastian to make any more advances towards her. So Arthur kept his focus on the bandit in front of him, expecting to draw this fight to an end very soon . . . . . . . or not.

The next few moments would forever remain a blur to Arthur Pendragon. He remembered fighting a man, and then darkness consumed him. He thought, in his unconscious state, that he may be dead. But dead men did not dream, or did they? He supposed no one could ever know since most who returned from the dead didn't exactly give full details of what it was like. Even in his state of a deep sleep -- apparently -- he heard a faint voice, urging him to wake up. Maybe. Of course it could all be a dream for he felt as if he was in some sort of peculiar daze. Little did he know that things just got more bizarre for if, in that moment he were to discover that his hair had changed to a, less desirable color . . . he would have shot up screaming. But little did he know this alteration -- yet. For now he remained in a somewhat peaceful slumber. Unable to respond to whatever voice his mind may have concocted. Or if she was real, then he was just flat out unable to reply.

It seemed he was having a strange dream though. Apart from the bizarre voices, he also felt like he was flying . . . he felt like he was moving swiftly through the air. Little did he know that this was actually happening, but not in a supernatural sense at all; he was quite literally being moved from one location to another. The way his dreaming mind presented it though, made it seem as if he was soaring from one place to another, finding a strange sort of solace in this liberating movement. And then it stopped. And a still darkness consumed him once again. But it was peaceful. Relaxing. Until consciousness fought to make its way, and disrupt the slumbering prince.

It started with a very quiet moan, and a slight shifting of position, mostly just moving his head to the side a little bit. He felt groggy, but something in his subconscious forced him awake and as difficult as it was to fight the impending sleep, he did. He slowly used what little strength he had to open his eyes, having to blink a few times before getting a remotely visible image of everything. He was lying on his back, that much was for sure. And as he looked up at the hazy picture . . . he saw an unfamiliar ceiling. It was not the sky, nor was it the roof in his chambers. It was . . . he had no idea what it was. This curiosity slowly got the better of him and as he attempted to sit up a bit more, he felt the aftermath dizziness of the strong spell that had rendered him asleep for quite some time.

He was able to sit up enough to notice a young woman . . . one of striking familiarity yet he was unable to fully piece together the events of what occurred immediately prior to . . . falling asleep? Is that what happened? His mind seemed so empty right now and that frustrated him. But common sense suddenly jolted him awake as he recognized the absurdity of this situation. What was he doing in a tent with a random woman?! "Where am I?" He asked in what he tried to make a demanding voice, but ended up coming out as weak and still groggy. The abrupt movement of only half sitting up, only made him feel more disorientated as he brought his hand to his forehead, half covering his eyes, before brushing his hair off of them. His unbeknown to him, pink hair.

[Catalina Regalis]

Never been so many and we've never been so alone

There had been so much on her mind as she sat there waiting for Arthur to awaken. Would she be sentenced to death for what she had done to the young Prince? A sleeping spell wasn’t really anything too bad but his hair… It would fade over time but the fact that it was bright pink was really hard not to notice. She was almost positive that she had even heard her normally very strict and humorless Uncle chuckle at the sight of the unconscious Prince. He had even made a remark that made her cheeks burn terribly. “No wonder you are still single,” he teased her. She wanted to let him know that it had been an accident but there was no need to explain that, Aldriv knew full well that she wouldn’t do something like that on purpose. It had been a product of her panic as well as her muddled mind that had caused these things to happen. Still…it was rather amusing to see the proud Prince Arthur with pink hair. Oh what a strop he would throw when he awoke, Aldriv was glad he wouldn’t be present when it happened.

Bastian had been taken care of as well, his memory of the whole ordeal had been completely erased and he was set on the path of a merchant. It was something only her Uncle could have accomplished, taking a terrible man and helping him find a new path that didn’t involve murder or pain. It was what they truly believed in, peaceful ways of resorting situations. It was one reason why Catalina had been so very hesitant to do something that would end the life of another. Her Uncle would have understood, she knew that but could she live with that on her conscious? She could barely live with this on her conscious and he had only just put Arthur to sleep.

The son of a murderer who was responsible for the deaths of so many innocents. How could Arthur live with such a legacy? She wanted to ask and perhaps she would but for now she would hardly approach such a heavy topic, not when he was going to be angry as it was. Her minor wounds had been tended to and she had changed into a fresh dress, still wearing her trademark red cloak as a way of him knowing that it was her. Perhaps there was a danger in allowing him to come here. The druids were feared by the King for their power, his paranoia allowed him to believe that they were gathering against him and perhaps there were some that had. Uther had many enemies that he had created himself and it would be foolish to believe that there was some that wouldn’t wish to destroy the tyrant, watch him suffer as he had made others suffer as well. Even still, despite all that, Catalina and her people bore no ill will towards Arthur, he had never done anything wrong to them. He had heard that she was of magic; she had seen the look on his face when Bastian had ordered her to attack Arthur with his magic and yet he had fought still. That had to mean that there was some tolerance there, there just had to be.

It had been at least seven hours from the time that Arthur had been put to sleep to the time he finally seemed to rouse from his magical slumber. She hadn’t noticed at first, her attention on the small bowl that she held on her lap, filled to the brim with still water. She had cast a spell not long before Arthur woke up that allowed her to see what was going on in Camelot at that moment. Given her concentration was unbroken, she was able to keep the image playing out and the image she got was not exactly a good one. Uther was worried for his son who had not yet returned and was ordering his guards to scour the forests for his son. It was only a matter of time before they found the encampment and what would they do when they found the Prince there? As if Uther didn’t have enough reason to want to kill the druids, ‘kidnapping’ his son would cause no end of trouble for her people. She couldn’t allow that to happen, Arthur really needed to wake up and get back to Camelot though would he remember what happened? Would he have her executed?

Movement caught her attention and her concentration was broken, Uther’s unhappy face disappeared from the surface and her mirror to the inside world was lost for now. Setting the water bowl aside for the time being, she put her attention fully on the groggy Prince who didn’t seem to have the faintest idea where he was. Not a surprise since the last thing he remembered, if anything at all, was him fighting some big ugly brute named Bastian to protect her. It was amusing; he had come across to her as less obnoxious when he was fast asleep. Again, she didn’t know the Prince personally…well she hadn’t before this moment so she was merely going on the things she had seen through her scrying as well as what she heard from others. He was a prat, through and through. Arrogant as only a Prince of the realm could be with an ego so large that it was amazing his head fit through the doorways. Perhaps it was unfair to judge based on what others would say. He had come to her rescue after all, she needed to show some gratitude for what he had done for he had surely saved her life. Still, the sight of his pink hair caused her to giggle before regaining her composure. How long till he noticed?

His attempt at demanding answers failed rather humorously, it was like kitten trying to sound like a lion, it just didn’t work but it was almost adorable just the same. “Please calm down, you’ll just make the grogginess worse.” Her voice was soft but stern. She didn’t normally order people around but she knew her magic rather well and knew that his abrupt movements weren’t going to help at all, if anything it would only give him a rather nasty migraine. She was hesitant in explaining just where he was because she figured he really wouldn’t like the answer but who was she to lie to him? It wasn’t because he was a Prince, he could have been a pauper and she still would have felt bad for lying. So far so good at not noticing his pink hair, that was good at least. She opened her mouth to speak, to explain things when she heard the sound of more giggling. Two little girls had poked their heads into the tent and were pointing at Arthur’s head. Biting her lip, Catalina got to her feet and shooed the girls out, chastising them fondly before closing the tent. “You are safe, that’s where you are.” Still hesitant in answering that question but she didn’t wish to anger him. “You are in a druid encampment but we mean you no harm. After my spell kind of missed its target….” She bit her lip, admitting her failure was not easy. “We didn’t wish to leave you out there on your own, so we brought you here until you woke up.”

Perhaps she should have waited until he was more awake but there wasn’t too much time before the soldiers reached them. The search had to be called off and the only way they could do that was if Arthur returned home. “I know this is probably the last thing you wish to hear and I won’t blame you if you’re angry but thank you for defending me, even if I am a druidess, thank you.” That probably wouldn’t go well but it had to be said just the same. “For what it’s worth, I’m Catalina.” Oh and by the way, you have pink hair and you look like an arrogant clueless pink toadstool. Oh yeah, that would go down well.

[/size]

-----------------------------------

Tags; Arthur
Word Count; 1390
Lyrics; "We Are" Ana Johnson
Time-frame; Early Morning - One Year Gap

[Arthur Pendragon]

Sadly, this was not the first time Arthur had been knocked unconscious. It was one of the few times he had been and someone readily admitted that it was by their own fault . . . a spell no less! And it was most certainly the first time he had ever had pink hair. Hopefully, it would be the last time as well. Arthur was still highly confused. Not because she was not speaking simply enough, her words were easy to understand. But it was because his head was spinning and as she said, the grogginess was only getting worse the more worked up he got. It was frustrating, not being able to piece together recent memories; having no idea what had gotten him to here from there. And -- wait. Was she laughing? Why was she laughing?! Was there something funny about being knocked unconscious? [No, there was something funny about pink hair, but Arthur was not quite certain of this yet]. Had he been able to, he would have given her a bit of a curious glare, but he could not. He was still trying to blink away the blurriness that plagued his vision.

While he was still disoriented, he was not blind to a couple of women who suddenly poked their heads in the tent . . . and they too were laughing! Was he missing something? That was when he had an idea of what could have caused them to giggle, and point at him. Arthur did not like to be the butt of any joke. But perhaps they were merely noticing the situation. Of a man, being alone in a tent with a woman. Maybe they were just giddy little girls, who thought this situation looked suggestive. Of course, Arthur knew better . . . but he supposed for those that did this not happen often to, found it humorous? He was still not quite sure he understood . . . but that seemed to be the only logical thing right now. Either way, he did not like to be laughed and pointed as, so felt a bit of relief when the woman shooed them away. He needed to get out of here before anyone else . . . thought that this looked inappropriate. But where was here?

That was when her words slowly registered in him. Very, very slowly. He did not interrupt her, as it took a few moments after she finished speaking for him to fully comprehend what she was saying. And there was indeed a lot of information in only the few sentences she spoke. Each word was slowly absorbing, and each seemed more alarming and filled him with more concern than the last. Druid. Druid camp. Spell. Target. He was at a druid camp?! Wait . . . he was where?! Arthur could not seem to fathom this. How had he . . . and slowly, flashes of events right before unconsciousness consumed him, raced through his mind. He remembered a man . . . no. Men. He remembered a few men, and a woman. Yes. A young woman . . . . . . . . this woman. Arthur brought his gaze to her, rested it on the young . . . druid, apparently.

This was very strange. Strange being a huge understatement. He could not . . . the druids . . . why had they helped him? He had thought in the past that they were peaceful, secretive people. He had never thought they capable of . . . evil, as his father had put it. Which was a constant really when it came to anything related to magic. But since they had kidnapped Morgana, Arthur's opinions of them had somewhat changed. Wait, one of the operatives words here was secretive! And yet, they brought him to their camp?! They brought the crown prince of Camelot to their encampment! Was that not terribly risky of them? Wait! What if they brought him here with the intention of never letting him leave? They were people of magic, and he never underestimated that. After all, she had already admitted to casting a spell on him.

Wait . . . SHE had cast a spell on him! There were so many things to consider, and it was only making him more dizzy as she tried to focus on all of them . . . on this overload of information! He did not even know where to begin. Even though she said he was safe, he was not sure he could believe that. He knew the druids did not exactly see him in the highest regard . . . and Arthur would be lying if he said he saw them as close allies. In the war against magic, the were the adversary. Or wait, were they? It all depended on his stay here with them. And what it would entail. And what they expected from him. And . . . whether they killed him or not. He did not fail to recognize that he was still alive though, and if they wished to kill him, they could have already easily done so. But then why would they save him? Why, when he had been ordered to kill their kind? When his knights had been ordered to kill their kind, and have succeeded in the past. When his father sent his army to raid their encampments

He paused for several moments after she was done speaking, as he continued to come to terms with such revelations. "I'm . . . " Where?! "And you're . . . " A druid! "And you . . . " Cast a spell on him! Where to begin?!? He had not missed the fact that she told him her name. It was often the polite thing to do; a proper formality. Yet, there was too much going on, too many concerns raised in him, for Arthur to return the sentiment. After all, perhaps she already knew who he was. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe that was why she brought him here, because she was not aware of his true identity. If so, then it may be best for him to withhold this small bit of information, just until he was able to better assess this situation.

"You cast a spell on me?" He asked, finding this the most shocking thing of it all . . . ok, so maybe not the most shocking, but certainly one that made him agitated. He knew he was prone to many attacks of magic, but he hated being rendered so vulnerable. He hated others having that sort of upper hand on him, so to hear that he had been forced into sleep, and dragged off somewhere -- whether she assured him he was safe or not -- just made him feel a bit irritated. And this splitting migraine was not helping at all. In fact, it only made his mood worse. "Why have you brought me here?" He said, the seriousness in his tone becoming more apparent as he forced himself to be less . . . delirious, and more concentrated. He could be in immediate danger right now . . . for he did not trust anyone with magic, and the druids were no exception to this.

[Catalina Regalis]

Never been so many and we've never been so alone

For someone who was well versed in proper etiquette on how to treat ladies, regardless on whether Catalina was of noble birth or not, he wasn’t exactly doing well to show manners. Of course, Catalina did have to give him some slack since he had only just woken up and he had gone from doing a kind and noble deed in rescuing a damsel in distress to being knocked out by said damsel in distress. Had she been the evil heartless druidess that Uther seemed to think she was, not personally but he believed all druids to be evil and plotting against him, than she would have killed him. It would have been payback to say the least. Uther killed her parents so why shouldn’t she have felt the need to get revenge by taking what Uther prized most in his world aside from the Lady Morgana? An eye for an eye. She would have been justified in that had she ever believed that murder could be justified, which she didn’t. His life was not hers to take and so he was safe from her and the other druids. Still…a little gratitude would be nice about now!

She had been warned though, she couldn’t deny that fact. Her Uncle had spoken to her about the Prince and the dangers that had presented themselves the moment his royal self graced the druid camp with his presence. There could be violent repercussions since Arthur was convinced that druids had kidnapped Morgana at one point. It was ridiculous of course but it seemed that Arthur was easily convinced of things with or without the use of magic. The druids would have no reason to kidnap anyone much less someone as distinguished as the Lady Morgana. The were quite content keeping to themselves without allowing the outside world into their own, it was one reason they were known as being secretive because they liked their privacy. Had Arthur not helped save Catalina’s life and keep her from possible slavery, he would have been left in the forest and they would have let nature take it’s course rather than endangering themselves. Still, it didn’t matter how he had come to be here, what was done was done and there was no turning back now.

There were few times when Catalina wished that she had her Uncle’s gift of telepathy, to peer into the minds of others and know what thoughts they had but than again, it might be a curse as well. Especially when faced with people like Arthur, his stunned silence was somewhat awkward to say the least. It was understandable but still definitely awkward. Plus from what she heard of Prince Arthur, she figured the only thing she would hear in his mind was echoes. An unfair way to think of him since she didn’t even know him but still… So far he hadn’t exactly been able to dazzle her with a rapier wit or even think of a few legible sentences. She had been in shock that she had been attacked but you didn’t see her play the part of a fumbling bumbling pink haired toadstool now did ya? No! She was calm and collected but that being said, would she be so calm if the tables were turned and it was her that had woken in a strange place with no recollection of how she got there? Most likely not, especially if she feared for her life as Arthur may very well be doing now.

She had ordered him gently to be still but it seemed that he had very little interest in listening to her or perhaps in his migraining state, he was unable to hear her. She had a concoction made that would help him with the pain but she had a feeling that he would refuse. Still, let it be said that Catalina tried just the same. Picking up a small cup from a table in the corner of the tent, she held it out to the aching Prince. “It will help with your headache.” She said softly with a half smile as she waited to see what he would say. “And don’t worry, it won’t kill you or poison you since if we had wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have woken with only a migraine to speak of. Well that and pi…um… Nevermind.” No, she couldn’t tell him. He could find out on his own and then she would deal with the whining consequences and only then. For now she would just put up with his knowledge of her spell being cast on him and go from there. She didn’t bother to mention the fact that the concoction would taste absolutely vile.

"I'm . . . " He started but seemed to fade off. “Dazed, confused, and kind of annoying?” She filled in that little blank with a teasing smile as he continued. “And you’re…” Wow, he was an ace at complete sentences wasn’t he. “Slightly annoyed at your inability to finish sentences?” Here was another one. “And you…” She snorted in laughter before answering the last one. “Can’t believe how easily you succumbed to my spell?” Oh yeah, if he didn’t dislike her before now, he totally did now. So much for damsel in distress…

“You’ve got such a way with words Arthur.” She wanted so badly to call him Prince Pinky but that would involve letting him know about his hair. She would save that gem for later. “Accident! It was nothing more than an accident, I was trying to hit him but it kind of misfired. Could happen to anyone…” She felt bad about it of course and she was sincerely apologetic but he didn’t need to make her sound like such a bad person. She wanted to fold her arms over her chest and stomp her foot like a child but she refrained because she didn’t wish to appear immature. He had every right to be disoriented. After all, it had been a rather powerful spell brought on by yours truly. Nicely crafted, just badly aimed. The serious tone his voice took on did not go unnoticed and she sighed. “You were brought here because we felt that you would be safer within our camp while you slept off the spell.” She shrugged as she got back to her feet. “Couldn’t have you getting your royal head chewed on by some hungry bear just cause you were unable to fend it off now could we?” She teased as she walked out of the tent, clearly finished with discussing things for now.

[/size]

-----------------------------------

Tags; Arthur
Word Count; 1096
Lyrics; "We Are" Ana Johnson
Time-frame; Early Morning - One Year Gap

[Arthur Pendragon]

Had Arthur not seen it with his own eyes, he would not thought the druids were capable of kidnapping Morgana. Or well, some of the druids. But he had seen it. And he did not understand it. Obligated to follow his father's laws, left very little room to understand magic. He just had to act, and having encountered more evil magic than magic used for good . . . tended to intensify an already established bias. Besides, right now they seemed to be . . . hospitable, dare he say. That could be too naive on his part; or maybe it was an aftermath of whatever spell she admitted to striking him with. While he accepted the fact that they did not have to bring him back to their camp, he also could not help but acknowledge that he would not have been unconscious in the first place had it not been for her. And even still, she expressed . . . remorse, over this accident of hers. Surely, if it was done with truly sinister intentions, she would not be so willing to admit her wrong. She would not have apologized for it. Unless she still did not know who he was.

But this thought was easily pushed out of his mind as she referred to him by his name. No titles. No ranks. Just his first name, creating an strong informality and odd sort of casualness that made it seem like the two were great friends. Which Arthur knew that they were not. But right now, he did not remark on that. He was trying to understand everything she was saying. Trying to continue to absorb her words so that he would not be left in a sea of confusion. Something still did not feel right though -- apart from the fact that he was in a druid camp. He should not shake his gut feeling, telling him that something was off. Was it yet another aftermath of her spell? Who knows. Magic should never be underestimated and it was not a force to be reckoned with. He did not understand it, nor did he think he ever would. In one instance, the druids were kidnapping the king's ward, and on the other, they were helping him. It seemed to odd, so contradictory . . . that Arthur did not know which to believe.

He looked at her as she offered the small cup and took it, but did not yet drink from it. He held it in his hand, devoting his full focus on her words and the information she was providing him with -- excluding the sarcastic remarks thrown in there. Again, he would have been more agitated by it had he not just woke up from a long spell. Speaking of long, how long had he been here for?! Wait . . . that and pi -- what? That didn't make sense. Was he missing something? Unsure of what else to say, he looked at the cup and then at her. "Thank you," he said, with a hint of formality, but also with sincerity. Even if he did not trust her . . . he was going to somewhat trust his instinct when it told him that their intention was not to kill him. Alright, so it had been an 'accident'. It was odd though. If she could cast such spells, had she not been able to defend herself in the first place against the men? Apparently not.

He just dismissed most of her comments, not remarking on any of them, not bothering to start a debate. And when she got up to leave, he could only watch her exit. That was when he realized for the first time since he awoke, the time of day it was. It was . . . much later than he remembered! He knew this was not good. His father was already distraught over the unknown whereabouts of Morgana, he did not want his father to start to grow fearful about his son's disappearance. For Arthur would have been gone for a couple of days now . . . and it would have been easily explained, if he had a search party with him. But when he had set out, he left on his own, by himself. And that was reason enough to cause anger in his father. But he had not only done that . . . he had been gone for far too long! Arthur needed to get out of here. But not only for that reason.

Also for the sake of the druids. Even if they were considered enemies of the king, and therefore Camelot, Arthur did not want to risk another raid on their camp. He did not want to be the reason for that, especially since they had apparently helped him. But if anyone saw him here, there would be no time to explain. The knights would take action, killing everyone in sight. Arthur could not afford that risk. So once Catalina left the tent, Arthur was not too far behind. He waited several moments, deciding not to drink the substance given to him. Instead, he put it down and began to move . . . which was rather difficult with the blinding pain in his head. Maybe he should drink it? No. He needed to get out of here. After only a few moments of her exit, he followed suit. Dragging himself out of the tent, he stood up and felt the instant relief and comfort in being able to stretch his legs. His eyes scanned the camp around him, noticing that not too many eyes were rested on him alone. They seemed to be distracted and Arthur would use this as a means for his escape.

He moved forward, noticing a lake nearby and decided to splash some water on his face to help wake him up, and freshen him. Bending down near the stream, he scooped up some water in his hands. He closed his eyes and splashed it over his face. It felt immensely refreshing; the cool liquid against his warm skin. He needed that again. Scooping up another bit of water, he this time opened his eyes and looked down at it. Suddenly shock consumed him. His hands broke apart, and the water broke into droplets onto the ground. He just stared at the dirt, as if it would give him the answers to the dozens of questions that suddenly entered his mind. No. Surely he was hallucinating. He very slowly peered over into the river to take a look at his reflection. That was when his eyes widened at what he saw looking back at him.

In his state of extreme shock, he slowly stood up, never breaking his gaze from the reflection. In fact, he did not even blink. He just stared. Blankly. Unable to accept this; fully believing that his eyes were deceiving him. This could not be. no. No. NO! He slowly brought his hand up to his head, as if to check that the reflection was truly his . . . and touched his hair. His . . . his . . . HIS PINK HAIR! PINK! As in . . . the color of roses, or the colors of women's clothing or . . . IT WAS PINK! Where were his golden locks that he held so much pride in?! Where was the hair that he had inherited from his mother?! The blond hair! Not this dreadful pink pigment that was glaring back at him! Oh dear. Oh good god! This was not good. NOT good at all! Arthur was so shocked that he could not express a single emotion. He just stared. His eyes wide, his mouth too surprised to even hang open. He felt the locks and they felt real enough. But . . . how had this happened?! What sort of treachery was this?! What had caused this?! Who would have -----------

Arthur knew who he needed to confront. When he was finally able to move, he turned his head, his eyes darting from person to person, until they rested on . . . her. The one who would give an explanation for this . . . PINKNESS! He marched over to her, his eyes filled with anger and frustration. He had fully intended to get out of here as soon as possible -- for the sake of the druid people -- but now he couldn't! Not without this getting fixed first! He stormed up to her, an angry glare on his face. "What the hell have you done to me?!" He snapped, in a demanding voice. While it not loud in volume, it held a strong tone to it. Every reservation from before had been replaced with shock and anger for the current situation of his hair. Of his . . . pink hair. PINK! This just made Arthur even more, agitated. And he was taking it out on the one person who he felt was responsible for this . . . who was probably responsible for this.

[Catalina Regalis]

Never been so many and we've never been so alone

It seemed that Arthur was a man of few words. Either that or he was simply being stubbornly silent because he was in pain and shock and perhaps just didn’t know what to say to the woman who had put him there in the first place. Yet again, she had explained that it had been an accident but that most likely wasn’t going to be enough. For now it was but when he discovered that shock of pink hair…oh the trouble she was going to be in. She already knew that it was going to fade over time, she didn’t know exactly how much time but she knew it would fade. Surely he was not that into his hair that he would really care that much about it… Ok yeah, that was silly of her to think. Of course he was very appearance-oriented, he was royalty, they lived off their appearances. It was a ridiculous way to go through life but she had seen worse things, like burning people simple because they could do magic, now that was ridiculous. She had offered the cup but deep down she was almost certain that he wouldn’t take it and even if he did, he wouldn’t drink it. He was like his father from what she could see, he hadn’t sentenced her to death yet but it would be foolish considering he was on her turf.

Catalina raised an eyebrow when he took the cup with actual thanks. Was that? Nah it couldn’t be sincerity in his voice. He wasn’t thankful for her help or anything she had done. All he saw was a druid with magic that he couldn’t trust. This made her wonder yet again whether he would have simply turned his back on her if he had known she was a druid before she had been attacked. There was no way she could know either way so there was no real reason to think about it but knowing that he judged her by what she was without knowing her hurt. Well alright he judged her on what she had done as well but come on! At least she had been honest about what had happened. She could have lied and blamed it on someone else or she could have simply let him believe that he had been bested by Bastian and they had both been saved by the druids. Damn…why hadn’t she thought of that before she did the stupid thing and told the truth? Still, none of that would have explained his now colorful hair-do. That was most definitely the toughest explanation really. She said nothing when he thanked her, just shrugged her shoulders.

It was disappointing really; there was no return of sarcasm or banter. Just silence. How boring! Arthur was boring. She wouldn’t show her disappointment but it was most definitely there. Cat should have felt ashamed of herself and her behavior regarding the Prince. No, she owed him no allegiance and there was a large part of her that feared him and his father but that gave her no reason why she would have to treat him with such disrespect. He had done nothing wrong to her personally. Her people yes but not her personally and until he did, she should halt her passive-aggressive attitude towards him. Especially since he had come to her aid when she had been in danger, there was also that to consider. He had put himself at risk for her. Risk… That reminded her. Arthur needed to get his spoilt little arse out of their encampment before guards arrived in search of him. It would take a lot for them to find their encampment since it was well hidden but given Morgana’s disappearance, Uther would most definitely have every inch of Albion scoured endlessly if he thought his son had vanished as well. Leaving the tent at this point, she allowed Arthur to gather his thoughts and make his choice on what he did next.

Leaving her tent, she sought out her Uncle and found him sitting by a campfire, his eyes closed. Prayer. Devotion to the Old Religion and the old ways, that was her Uncle. She felt it may be rude to disturb him but she needed his council. As her Uncle and as her master as well. There were times when she took his wisdom for granted but right now she needed it. Knowing that she was coming his way, Aldriv opened one eye and smiled at his niece, gesturing for her to take a seat. “Have I endangered us Uncle?” She finally asked, finding the words hard to form but a weight off her shoulders when they were finally forced out. She was almost afraid of what he would choose to say since he was honesty incarnate and he would not spin lies just to spare her feelings since it would do no help to her or him.

His silence seemed to speak volumes, her stomach turning with each passing moment where he said nothing. “Every move we make, every choice we have always has a chance to put us at risk Catalina. Just waking this morning could have somehow set off a chain of events that could lead to our demise,” he said sagely. Oh gee, that made her feel sooo much better. It wasn’t until after her Uncle had spoken that she realized she had been holding her breath. “So…anything we do may or may not lead to our eventual death?” She reasoned aloud, finding such a sentiment rather morbid. “You think too much Cat.” He said with a laugh, placing his one hand on her shoulder and gesturing to her tent where the Prince had finally chosen to retreat. “There is much about the future that we are not meant to know. His presence may bring trouble but perhaps not. Perhaps you bringing him here may have saved our people.” Such a thought had never occurred to the druidess as she peered over at Arthur. The smile that this thought had caused fell of course when Arthur made his way over to the water to splash on his face. Oh boy…here it came. She just had to wait for the reaction. Were people able to die of shock? She’d soon find out.

Catalina was shooed away by her Uncle and the other older druids, knowing the commotion that was about to take place as Prince Pinky officially took notice of his colored locks. Woops… Maybe she could hide! He couldn’t yell at her if she was in hiding…could he? Never know till ya tried it? Before she could make for a good hiding place, Arthur had pinpointed her with such a glare that she felt frozen. Lovely. She was in trouble. That seemed to be a common theme anymore. Would the accident excuse work in this case as well? She’d soon find out as he made his way over to her, clearly in great distress over what had happened to his hair. Seriously though, it was really hard to take him seriously with pink hair. He could have had a sword raised, ready to kill her and she still wouldn’t have been able to stop thinking. “He looks like a pink toadstool” to herself. That or ‘aww ain’t he cuuute’ though that would probably infuriate him more to hear. She was supposed to be attempting a friendship here or at least something civil but all she wanted was to antagonize him further.

Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for the Pink Prince to stop in front of her, arching a brow and waiting for the explosion. It wasn’t so much an explosion but he did take quite a tone with her. Did he not realize that he wasn’t in his world now? Still, she came across as somewhat apologetic and sheepish as she smirked. “I’m sorry…I can’t take you seriously with that hair.” She said with a laugh. She had to nerve to laugh right at the Prince. Well most did but not to his face. “It will fade…in time.” Oh way, that was definitely not a way to explain what happened but did she really need to explain? “A spell gone awry if you must know. I was trying to wake you up. There.” Explanation given. “I’m sure your subjects would love to see their new Prince Pinky.” She grinned before turning her back on him and heading towards the edge of the clearing where the encampment resided. She didn’t want to argue with Arthur at all but she surely didn’t want to argue with him in front of others. If he chose to follow her, she would turn and shrug. “I could attempt another spell to make it return to normal but I doubt you’d want that.” She shrugged as she took a seat on a stump. “Listen…I know you’re confused and not exactly trusting us, I don’t blame you considering all that happened today but we aren’t evil nor are we out to get you.”

She couldn’t really say much more than that, though a sly smirk crossed her usually innocent face. “That being said, tell anyone about where this encampment is, anyone at all and your hair will turn pink again and never fade.” She leaned forward a bit and smiled sweetly. “Never.”

-----------------------------------

Tags; Arthur
Word Count; 1595
Lyrics; "We Are" Ana Johnson
Time-frame; Early Morning - One Year Gap

[Arthur Pendragon]

She was laughing?! She couldn't take him seriously because she had done this! It wasn't his fault! Arthur failed to see any humor in this situation. He had pink hair. That was not the least bit humorous. He would forever remain unamused. He doubted he would even think back on this and laugh. It was utterly ridiculous and he wanted his golden hair back! He just looked at her, his lack of amusement and sternness evident in his expression. Perhaps it was time to start getting some of his thoughts out into words. "It is not funny." His voice was blunt and he was doing his best in controlling his agitation. So this woman not only 'accidentally' knocked him unconscious, but she also 'accidentally' turned his hair pink?!? Instances like these was how magic was used for evil! And her answers were completely insufficient. In fact, she mocked him. And threatened him. How dare she! This was the last time Arthur ever intervened on her behalf. Instead of a simple thank you as they parted ways, she cursed him with pink hair and put him in a deep sleep. Whether it was an accident or not, he found her attitude incredibly rude and filled with disregard.

"You turned my hair this color and you have the audacity to mock me?!" He was not pleased. The fact that it would 'fade' in time was unacceptable. How could she possibly mix up two completely different things?! How could two spells be that difficult?! How could any of her friends or family permit her to use magic outside their camp when she was clearly so inexperienced with it. How could they let her use magic at all?! Druids were supposed to be secretive people and this was certainly not blending into the background. This was drawing far too much attention onto herself. She had gone too far with this! "I was trying to help, you could at least have the decency to speak to me with respect." Arthur did not expect automatic respect from anyone . . . but he did expect civility. He did expect others to speak to him with courtesy. And this woman was not.

If she dared try another one of her magic spells which would only lead to more disaster . . . well, he just did not want to take that risk! Who knew what was next. She would probably make him armless. Or turn him into a deer. He had fully intended to leave so that her people would not be in danger, but he could not go anywhere with pink hair! "You will reverse this spell. Or find someone who can." Surely she could not be the only one who knew spells in this camp. Based on what he had seen, she was probably the most inexperienced one! And further more . . . she was threatening him. Perhaps if her words had been kinder, he could have calmed down more. If she had appeared to be truly apologetic, then he could have been more composed. But she was ridiculing her own mistakes at his expense, and now she was threatening him. Apparently, she was far more disrespectful than he had initially thought. "I was not planning to," he revealed.

Though he knew that the druids were regarded as enemies of Camelot . . . Arthur would not have disclosed their location to anyone. So there was really no need to threaten him, but because she had, he grew more angry. It seemed in his experience, the kinder you were to others, the more defiance and rudeness they showed. At least in this case. While he expected no special treatment . . . she just showed no regard. Leaving him standing there, helpless against this pink hair, even creating a horrific nickname to go along. He could never bring himself to truly regret helping a person, but he was less than pleased by her way of reciprocating.

[Catalina Regalis]

Never been so many and we've never been so alone

Alright…so maybe Catalina hadn’t shown the proper respect that was due to Arthur. Not because he was a Prince of Camelot because respect was not born to a person but rather it was earned but he had rescued her selflessly and she should have behaved better than she was at the moment. Still, it was hard not to laugh when she saw his pink hair; despite knowing it had been her own doing. She should have felt worse about it and she would later but for now, she could only giggle which the Prince did not appreciate in the least. She didn’t blame him of course, had the roles been reversed, she most likely would have been every bit as frustrated and angry as Prince Arthur, especially if her view of magic was skewered as his must have been. Still, it wasn’t like she had done it on purpose, it had been an accident caused by the stress of the situation as well as the headache that she had suffered from. "It is not funny." His stern expression caused her laughter to halt and she bit her lip, feeling uncomfortable now. He was right of course and her use of magic was most likely not helping him gain a positive view on magic either.

What had been amusing before was now a rather awkward situation that she didn’t know how to handle. Had this been Samara who she had accidentally cast a spell on than her sister may be annoyed but she would have laughed eventually but Samara was used to magic. Arthur wasn’t. Despite Arthur being close to her age and thus having no real authority over her, she couldn’t help but feel scolded. Sorry would hardly solve it though it may help to some degree. Sucking in a deep breath, she peered over at her Uncle who seemed to have a rather disapproving look on his face as well.

Ugh…this was not her day at all. She had brought this on herself and she didn’t know how to get out of it aside from apologizing and hoping that he would forgive her or at least calm down some so she could put things to rights. So she wasn’t the most controlled of the druids, she was still young and still learning… “You’re right…” She finally said, the humor gone from her voice. “My behavior was that of an immature child and I apologize for that.” She still believed that respect was something that was earned, not born into them but still; he deserved more respect than she was giving. “As well as apologize for the state of your hair.” Perhaps she had been fooling herself, thinking that she held nothing against Uther and his family. She couldn’t blame Arthur for the actions of his father but just looking at the Prince brought to the surface something that she hadn’t dealt with often, resentment and anger though it was so small that she hadn’t even noticed at first. It was the cause for her rudeness and she was ashamed of that. Her Uncle had taught her that hatred never got them anywhere.

Brushing her hair back from her face, she sighed, as she looked down at the ground, unable to look the Prince in the eyes now. Well, that and looking at his pink hair still made her want to laugh and she could hardly pull off a genuine apology when she was giggling at his ridiculous hair. “Despite my earlier behavior I did appreciate your assistance with those vagabonds.” As for her performing another spell, she was sure that she would be able to undo the spell since her mind was clear and she wasn’t in a rushed sort of situation. “I will be able to undo the spell I assure you, the reason for your hair color was due to a few reasons, one being the lack of concentration because of my injury and…because I had been so scared as well. I didn’t mean to knock you out and I can’t say enough times how sorry I am.” As for the threat, that was to ensure the safety of her people against the son of the man who would love to have them all wiped out. It wasn’t right to threaten anyone but it wasn’t as though she threatened death upon him should he say anything though maybe death would be preferred over pink hair. Hard to say but really…it was only hair. How could anyone be so conceited?

“You…you weren’t?” She said after a moment as he revealed that he hadn’t been planning on telling anyone about where the druids were. She was clearly surprised at this fact and was somewhat unsure on whether to believe him. Why would Prince Arthur hide that from his father? Especially after the whole situation regarding Catalina and his hair. She would have thought that her foolishness would have caused him to speed off once his hair was fixed and lead the Knights there as quickly as possible but it seemed that Catalina’s assumptions regarding Arthur were all wrong. Had she really been so wrong about him? That was what one got by going off the assumptions of others. She was made to look like a callous and heartless fool with no manners or civility to speak of and that certainly was not how Catalina liked to be viewed by anyone. To think, she didn’t think she could feel worse about herself but now she did. Damn Arthur…

“I must say that I am surprised. Judging others on things I have heard on them is clearly not something that I should pride myself in doing because it seems that I have judged you wrong.” She would have apologized but she seemed to be doing that way too much, so she refrained from doing that. Instead she kicked at the ground a bit, clearly still feeling quite scolded along with ashamed and surprised. What a day she had and it still wasn’t over. Oh happy days… “I thought… well it doesn’t matter what I thought but before I babble more, I shall fix your hair.” He would most likely show some hesitation in allowing her to do it since it had been her error that had caused it in the first place but that was exactly why she wished to correct it, to show that despite earlier, she meant him no ill will.

Taking a deep breath, she muttered her spell under her breath, her eyes flashing gold. It wasn’t immediate, the effect of her spell but over the course of the next few moments his pink hair would slowly fade away, his natural hair showing off again. Smiling somewhat, she gestured to his hair. “For what it’s worth, you didn’t look half bad with the pink hair but it’s gone now.” He’d most likely run like hell now, she wouldn’t blame him if he did considering all that had gone on. Hopefully he still wouldn’t tell Uther where their encampment was but one never knew.

-----------------------------------

Tags; Arthur
Word Count; 1210
Lyrics; "We Are" Ana Johnson
Time-frame; Early Morning - One Year Gap

[Arthur Pendragon]

“You’re right…” Arthur was not sure why, but he had not been expecting such words. He had expected more of an argument, more defiance, perhaps more laughter or giggling from her. But she had appeared to take his words as seriously as he had intended them to be spoken. While it did not make him regret saying them in the tone he had, it certainly did make him feel less agitated towards her, though he still did not like the fact that his hair was pink. But, she was accepting her faults . . . and he would have to accept his. It would be easier to do so if the shock of having been hair was not there. And the only way to abolish it would be to find a way to go back to his natural hair color, which he never thought he would ever miss so much.

He remained respectively silent as she went on to apologize, acknowledging what Arthur had pointed out to be her rude behavior. It was odd. When he had snapped at her, he had not demanded respect because he was a Prince. But because he had felt entitled to a bit more respect considering the circumstances they had met under. Of course, he too could have returned that favor by not lashing out at her when she admitted it was a mistake. All the while, this entire ordeal was caused by magic. And Arthur was not sure how he felt about that. So many conflicting emotions and thoughts raced through him. While the most pressing concern right now was his feminine hair color . . . the bigger picture was one that would show he condoned magic by not punishing them. But how could he? When they had clearly shown care for him by bringing him back to the camp, risking their very existence as all they could do was hope that he would show them the same care and compassion by not upholding the law of Camelot which condemned any practitioners of magic.

One thing at a time.

He noticed her look to the ground, either in shame or because . . . she was still fighting a smile. Once this entire hair situation was sorted out, maybe it would be easier for Arthur to see it from another point of view, and find a bit of amusement in it. Things always seemed to be funnier when you were not the butt of the joke though. He silently took a deep breath, knowing that she was making an effort not to laugh at him; so he would therefore make an effort to calm himself down. Even if his insides were screaming for his golden hair back. "You do not have to thank me for that," he told her simply when she said she appreciated what he had done for her. No one deserved to be treated the way she had been treated. Whether she was of magic or not, she was a young woman, and he could never regret his intervening on her behalf. Either way, he did not wish for people to feel indebted to him over helping them. All he asked was for a bit of respect, which is what she was now giving him. Perhaps she was giving it to him all along and he just failed to recognize it. Either way, he was not oblivious to it now.

Uh oh . . . was she going to try yet another spell?! The first two times she had failed! And Arthur did not want to take another risk, despite that 'three times the charm' phrase! Maybe she would get someone else to do it . . . yes. That would make him feel more comfortable. Arthur looked at her, detecting the sincerity in her voice. He may regret saying this, but he had to meet her half way. It could be naive on his part, and while he still did not trust her . . . he could not ignore her words. After all, as he kept reminding himself, if they had wanted to kill him, he would probably have been dead right now. But he had not even been restrained. He had the choice to go as he pleased, which seemed to show quite a bit of trust on their part . . . or there was something larger going on that he was simply not aware of.

"I accept your apology." Yes. He could very well regret saying that, but she could also leave his hair pink or inflict an even worse spell onto him. He was not going to take that risk, and so he had acknowledged her apology, accepted it, and now could only wait for her -- or preferably someone else -- to reverse the spell. Her next question however brought back to his attention his words that he would not expose her camp. Such assurance had surprised even him. But he had meant it all the same. He would just have to sound as causal as he could, though he wanted her to know that he would not go back on his word either. He would not make false promises, that if she reversed the spell and let him leave freely, then he would swear his silence. If there was Arthur prided himself in, it was being a man of his word. Saying something, and staying true to it. "I see no reason to report this camp." Of course, there was an endless list of reasons to do so.

He paused, refraining from continuing when she suddenly said she would fix his hair. He was as hesitant about that now as he was when he first heard it. His eyes ever so slightly widened as he subconsciously took a step back. "Are you, sure about this?" he questioned, not meaning to sound overly rude . . . but he just didn't want to end up with red skin to go along with his pink hair. When she began to say something, he closed his eyes as if bracing himself for what was going to happen next. And he waited . . . and waited . . . and . . . slowly, he opened his eyes once again when he heard her say that his pink hair was gone. Was it true?! Could it be?! He had his wonderful blond hair back?!. He raised his hand to touch it, as if it had felt differently before -- which it did not. It only looked differently. He would have run to the river to confirm this, but for some reason, stayed frozen in place.

Until he could not contain it any longer. He needed to see if there was truth to her words! He looked around, trying to see if there was anything nearby that would provide him with a reflection. The closest thing would be the stream that he had first seen his horrific hair in. He quickly turned and walked towards it, almost afraid to peer at his reflection. It was TRUE! His hair was back to normal! GLORY BE! Arthur stared at himself for a few moments, in immense relief that he would not have to return to the city with such an obscure color. When he looked closely, he saw that it was still fading out a bit, so it would still take some time for it to fully fade out. But it was better than the otherwise vibrant color. He finally tore himself away from looking at himself, turning towards her. "Thank you," he said in a low, but appreciate tone. He knew that she did not have to do this, but she had. And this time, she had not screwed up. "I meant what I said before. Your camp is safe; its whereabouts will be kept a secret," Arthur assured her, knowing that must be a rather pressing concern and fear for her.

[Catalina Regalis]

Never been so many and we've never been so alone

Apologizing was never an easy thing to do but given that Catalina had been rude, it was only right on her part. She wasn’t the sort of person who wasn’t one to admit her mistakes, she knew she was only human and no amount of magic would change that from being true. Still, even though she felt apologetic for the disrespectful way she had spoken to the Prince, she couldn’t help but still find the color of his hair amusing. She avoided her eyes to keep from giggling considering that probably wouldn’t help solidify her apology and make it seem sincere. He let her apologize though and didn’t offer up any derogatory remarks or anything like that so perhaps that was the end of that little fight right there. Of course the fact that he was the son of a magic-hating tyrant and she was a user of magic, there was still a very good chance that this could all go horribly wrong for her and her people. He could easily go back home and tell his father where they were and while the druids moved quickly when in danger, there was a chance that it wouldn’t be enough and they would be wiped out all because of one mistake on Catalina’s part. It was terrifying to think of really.

Given that this hadn’t happened to Catalina, there was no telling really how she would have reacted had she been in his place and he in hers. Perhaps she would have been angry as well though she was fairly certain she would have accepted the fact that it had been an accident from the beginning unlike what he had done. With the apology out of the way, she then chose to thank him for his part in her rescue since there was a good chance that she would have been sitting in a cage right now if it hadn’t been for Arthur. Cat was really grateful; it was just the pink hair that had made her seem ungrateful… He told her that she didn’t have to thank him for his action as only a noble man could do and she simply nodded in response, choosing to let that subject go. It was sad that she had sought to aid him and had misfired her spell. She hadn’t meant to do it but it also showed her that she had a lot to learn still with her magic.

Her spells hadn’t failed! Ok…so one had but the other had been exactly what she wanted. It wasn’t her fault that in the midst of their fighting that he had chosen to get in the way of her spell intended for another. Not that she’d say that since she didn’t want to make him mad again. That was the last thing on her mind and not just because she didn’t like people being mad at her but also because the amount of danger an angry prince could mean for her people. He was the future King of Camelot and was capable of, if he chose to do so, lifting the ban on magic. She couldn’t further his thoughts that magic was evil or dangerous by proving him right. Also she knew that time was not on her side, him missing could prove to be dangerous for the druids. Cat could see the look of worry on Arthur’s face when she mentioned doing another spell, understandable but hardly flattering. He accepted her apology but was he doing that because he actually meant it or because he was afraid of her? Not that it mattered of course. All that mattered was this got resolved. The quicker the better. “I’m glad.” Was her response since she didn’t really want to say nothing at all, she didn’t want to be rude.

Her surprise at his promise of not turning in the encampment of druids was also quite understandable. Cat did what she could to keep her jaw from dropping cause that would be ever ruder but still, she couldn’t hide her shock. She had assumed that he would do so out of duty alone, the fact that she had accidentally messed with his hair wouldn’t help either. This was yet another reminder that it was best not to judge people so quickly as they could surprise you, just as Arthur had. "I see no reason to report this camp." Was his excuse and while Catalina didn’t see using magic as a means for punishment, she couldn’t help but feel the urge to argue that point which would be incredibly foolish, even for her. Biting her lip, she simply nodded as she looked down at the ground. “You have our thanks.” It was true; she echoed her Uncle’s gratitude for the promise of silence.

His hesitation at her casting yet another spell was expected but ignored as well. Concentrating hard this time, she did her magic right and his hair was starting to fade back to his golden color. Cat smiled as the Prince rushed over to the river to look at his reflection in the surface. It was still amusing but she didn’t dare laugh again considering how angry that had made him before. Instead she just smiled as she moved to grab a basket from the campfire. With this taken care of, hopefully Arthur would return to the City and no guards would come searching for him. There was still a great deal of uncertainty for Catalina. How did she know she could trust him? He was the son of Uther after all. What if guards came while they slept.. What if…

Her worries were interrupted by Arthur’s voice, apparently he knew she had concerns in regards to whether he would keep his word or not and felt it necessary to state it yet again. There was something about the way he said it that made her believe it. Instead of dwelling on that current topic of conversation, Catalina chose to veer from that and gestured to the woods. “I do not know how familiar you are with these woods. I have some errands that I must tend to and if you wish, I can show you the way back.” It probably seemed redundant, her going back out on her own after the catastrophe that had happened last time but she was confident that her Uncle had taken care of that particular threat for the time being and so the woods would be safe for the time being…hopefully. “I promise I won’t bite. Aside from messing up every so often with my magic, I’m actually quite good company if I do say so myself…which I do.” She smiled brightly and waited to see what he would say. If he wished to head back on his own she would understand considering how all the day had gone. “I promise, no more magic.”

-----------------------------------

Tags; Arthur
Word Count; 1145
Lyrics; "We Are" Ana Johnson
Time-frame; Early Morning - One Year Gap
Comments; Sorry for taking so long!

[Arthur Pendragon]

When she said that he had their thanks, he just gave a polite nod. The subject of magic was becoming a very confusing one. Arthur could not see all the good in it. But right now, he saw a peaceful group of people who had brought him to their camp . . . whilst knowing exactly who he was. It was an action he felt obligated to reciprocate with kindness, rather than anger and reporting them to his father. "I do not know how familiar you are with these woods. I have some errands that I must tend to and if you wish, I can show you the way back." Truth be told, Arthur was extremely familiar with these woods. During his journeys throughout the entirety of his life, he had familiarized himself with all the land in Camelot. The woods, forests, country, hillsides, estates . . . everywhere. It was required of him after all, whether it be to lead the army, to patrol and survey the lands, to govern the people . . . it was imperative for him to know the land he was one day expected to rule, as well as possible.

While he was familiar with them, he was not sure he liked the idea of her going on her own to do errands. She had already gotten in trouble once, and it was not as if those men were the only in their kind out there, lurking about. He did not need her to show him the way back, but he felt the necessity to remain in her company until she was safely back home. When she went on to assure that she was good company, smiling brightly at him, he could not help but smile in return. She was harmless. Technically. Even if she 'accidentally' knocked him out; even if she 'accidentally' turned his hair pink . . . it was not with ill intent. It sounded like it was purely an accident and for that, he would try his best not to hold a grudge against her personally. After all, his hair was restored to its original form -- hopefully.

"Well, if you promise that you will not try any more spells . . . then I will take you up on your offer," he told her, partly teasing. Yet, deep down, he was highly uneasy with everything. He felt like he was betraying his father in a way, by being in the company of someone he knew for a solid fact was a practitioner of magic. He had no intention to report her, but did that mean . . . that this was treason? He remembered how furious his father had been when he found out how Morgana had helped the druid boy. What would he say if he came to learn that Arthur had helped and remained with a magic user? This was why his father could never find out about this. Why he would have to be very careful and tread very cautiously. "But I would rather accompany you on your errands, rather than have you escort me back to the city. I would not want you to run into any more trouble," he said, once again teasingly, yet there was strong truth to his words.