Isn't It Ironic

[Arthur Pendragon]

It was another fruitless journey. Arthur had returned to the castle, empty handed -- meaning, without Morgana. He knew it was just another disappointment to his father, hell a disappointment to himself as well. He could see how her kidnapping was taking a toll on the king and for Arthur, it was very much the same. He could not believe that she was dead, even though it had almost been a year of searching. None stop searching. Arthur would be out for days, and return for only one night before he set out again. It was tiring, but he knew that there was nothing else he could do. Sleep seldom found him. He missed her, as did everyone else. The way she had just suddenly vanished like that . . . well, Arthur wanted to kill Morgause more than ever before.

On top of everything else, they were in the midst of war with Cenred. It would only be a matter of time until the first full on attack on the city would be initiated. He knew Cenred was plotting to do as much, and with many of their resources going into finding Morgana . . . Arthur was immensely stressed over how they were going to get the resources to withstand an attack. It seemed that everything was happening all at once and the young Prince did not even know where to start. He was continuously being sent to find Morgana, but he knew that eventually, he would be needed to so that he could lead his men into battle. He would not abandon them during war . . . and yet, would that mean that he was abandoning Morgana by not searching for her? Such were the things that burdened him, and all he could do was day it one day at a time, holding on to the hope that one day, they would find her alive and well . . . one day, he would bring her back safely to Camelot.

It was very late at night and Arthur had just sent his horse off to the stable boy, telling him to prepare another for tomorrow. He had lost count of the days . . . it must have been at least three, since he'd been back home. The castle was not the same though. It lacked that presence and comfort that Morgana brought. He was missing a sister a the castle no longer felt last much of a home as it could have. Never the less, he began to make his way through the halls. The king and everyone else was sleeping, so Arthur would not bother to wake them up. He was not even sure how he was going to get his armor off but considering his level of fatigue, maybe he'd just collapse on the bed, not quite sleeping but at least somewhat resting. He took off his gloves as he walked forward, so distracted that he did not see the woman walking in the opposite direction. He glanced at her before turning away. He needed to speak with his father tomorrow, and probably Leon to see how their strategy and defenses were working out for ---

WAIT! Arthur suddenly froze, and stopped dead in his trackers. And that was when the confusion struck him. She looked familiar. All too familiar! Arthur had not forgotten her for she had been the woman who saved Merlin's life. He never forgotten someone who granted them such a grand favor. But it was not the coincidence over seeing her again. It was the coincidence of . . . well, she was in the castle! He almost didn't recognize her as well for she was dressed in attire that made her look like a noblewoman. Wait . . . what?! Arthur stopped, waking backwards a few steps so that he would be standing somewhat in front of her. And just looked at her, confusion evident on his expression. What was her name? Yolanda? Siya? Damn sleep deprivation! "Yassia?!" He questioned, the word just coming right and when the name left his lips, he knew that that was the right one. Yassia. What the hell was Yassia doing in the castle?!

_{Setting: Starts in the hallways, may move around
Time of Day: Very late at night
Timeline: After the Last Dragonlord, near the end of the one year gap
Tag: Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha
Notes: Ironic indeed! Who would have thought!}

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Yassia had found she couldn’t sleep. She just couldn’t lay down and rest her head yet, when INSIDE this very head her thoughts were tumbling and turning, racing each other to no end. Shouldn’t she feel at peace now that her journey had finally come to a close, left the danger and the discomfort behind? This is where she belonged for the time being: a princess in a castle, finally reunited with her uncle, and she also would soon be able to speak before the king, requesting his help, so she could return home where she REALLY belonged. She had imagined the relief crashing down on her like a whole mountain, that she would fall into a sound sleep as soon as her head had touched the soft pillow, but that hadn’t been the case at all. Instead, her thoughts were repeating some parts of her journey over and over again, letting incidents, people and places pass before her inner eye, some pleasant, some not so.

The time she had spent in Cenred’s kingdom now seemed like a distant nightmare, but also still with that chilling feeling of reality that nightmares often were accompanied by. Maybe it was the dim lit hallways and floors she was roaming, but she almost imagined to still smell the dampness coming from the stone walls, sneaking under her garments like searching, slippery fingers… enough! No, she should finally put those memories behind! There were far more exciting and happy things to remember, short times of feeling herself in good company, linked with names and faces she would always hold dear. Romily for one…yes, this name would always come to her mind first. The barmaid of the Ram’s Head who had turned out to be so much more than she posed as. A noble, for one, but more so, a friend. A soul mate even if you could go that far. When she returned to Ailantha, in whatever company she would be travelling, Yassia would make sure to make a stop at that tavern to see her friend for one last time. And maybe, considering how long this plea for help might take, it could even be arranged for Romily to come to Camelot…?

Then there had been Gwaine. The ever audacious, fun-loving and far too … immodest Gwaine. Half of the time they had spent together had been spent arguing over some thing or the other. Mostly it had been concerning his free ways of showing affection towards women. But what was the saying? A friend in need is a friend indeed, and Gwaine had proven to be such a friend.
And finally, only recently it seemed, a short but dangerous and memorable incident in another tavern, where her healing skills had been put to good use. She had saved the life of a young man, Merlin, who had been hit by a crossbow bolt. Then she had fought more or less side by side with his friend Arthur to ward off bandits following them into said tavern. Yassia couldn’t help but wonder where those two where off to now, and if they had gotten himself into even more trouble--

Yassia blinked. Maybe she should go to bed after all?! Hadn’t that man’s face who had just passed her by bore the striking resemblance to the very same Arthur she had been thinking of? But that was impossible, ri- -
That was when she heard her name being called. In an incredulous but nevertheless very familiar sounding voice. Turning so sharply on her heels the hem of her silver gown was swishing around her feet, she stared at the man before her. A figment of her imagination most likely, but a darned real one for that! “Arthur?!” Her voice mirrored his in surprise. “What on earth are you doing here?!”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur just stared at her, perplexed by her presence. Yet, she seemed to be the one asking him. It seemed like a legitimate question. He had after all, not disclosed to her that he was of royalty, or the prince of Camelot. Camelot! Is that where her destination had been? He could have easily brought her to it . . . especially if it took the remainder of the time from when he had met her, to now for her to arrive. A strange wave of guilt came over him, but an apology would not be the first thing that came from him. He was more curious to inquire about her reasons for being here and . . . why she was dressed in the garb of a noble. How had she gotten in? Who was she? Clearly more than a nomadic healer, which is someone that he had assumed she was before. The confusion over everything had silenced him from saying anything for several moments as it seemed she share his shock.

He had never expected to see her again. The world was a lot smaller than he had thought though . . . if that were the case, why couldn't he find Morgana? Focus Arthur! He told himself, trying to deal with one confusing thing at a time. What was he doing here?! What was she doing here?! This was his home and how . . . Arthur knew there was only one way to satisfy this curiosity and that was by asking questions and answering hers for he knew wit was not fair for him to do the interrogation and not to give any replies in return. Besides, it was not as if they were enemies, he had previously acknowledged that he owed her a great deal for she had saved the life of someone who Arthur regarded as his brother and put herself in direct danger to save the life of a stranger. He was not one to let such deeds go by unrewarded. All he could offer her that night was pay for a few meals and for a good nights rest in the inn. But no amount of coins or goods would compensate for her actions.

Still consumed by shock, he finally managed to bring himself to speak. The ever composed Arthur did not often fumble on words, even though in this moment, he did not understand a thing that was going on in terms of how and why she was here! "What are you doing here?" He asked, and almost immediately after, realized he had not answered her question. "I live here," he told her, the unexpectedness over seeing her very evident in the tone of voice he spoke in. It was all he could say for the moment, as he was waiting to hear her answer to his own question. It was only one of many, but was open ended enough for her to hopefully provide ample explanation for. He then decided to continue a bit further. Had she not heard his name for the duration f her stay? Then again, she could not have been here long . . . only a few days! "The king is my father," he added on, so that his position was known to her. Even though she seemed to be welcome in his home . . . that did not help alleviate his personal lack of understanding over her presence.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

At least Arthur seemed as confused as Yassia herself felt. It was just so bizarre! He couldn’t know his person and face had been on her mind the very minute he had appeared in flesh before her, but that just added to this utmost feeling of confusion and perplexion. For a moment it had felt like her mind had conjured him, but Arthur himself had quickly shown that he was by no means a figment of her imagination. First, he talked back and second, he seemed not able to make any sense of this. At least in her eyes, Yassia would have thought a mere image to be a little more convincing and sure of itself. Or was she dreaming? Had she just imagined NOT going to bed and had done it still, now only dreaming to roam the halls? Secretly, the princess reached inside her left wide sleeve hiding her forearm and pinched it, shortly but nevertheless determinedly.
Ouch! No… apparently wide awake…

That still left the question: What was Arthur doing here? Yassia racked her brain for any clue he might have given in their previous encounter, but even if he had, it could well be she had simple missed it. There just had been too many injured Merlin’s, bloody arrows and swarming savages about to really care about such inanities of provenience and destination. No, they all had been busy staying alive and after that exhaustion had taken its toll.
Then again, hadn’t she had that slight hunch that showed something noble and a personality used to command in Arthur? She had once heard a peasant say something very deprecatory about nobles and it now echoed in her mind: A dog will always smell and tell one of his kind. Had she practically “sniffed” out Arthur’s obvious nobility – now confirmed again by the fine fabric of his clothes – even back then? But he had been so far from Camelot then, how could she have ever assumed he belonged here?
Now Arthur repeated her own question without answering any of Yassia’s before, and she just opened her mouth to protest, when he seemed to realize his own mistake, adding a slightly irritated: "I live here," Alright, now that she had almost realized herself… was he maybe a knight of Camelot? But would a knight wander around incognito like that? Given, Yassia hid her identity as well, but she had her reasons!

While she still tried to work this out, maybe search for further questions to clarify this absurd situation, Arthur spoke again, and Yassia almost missed it.
"The king is my father,"
Alright, at that point Yassia’s brain definitely decided to stop working. That just was too much, she refused to wrap her head around these five words, or rather the three words that really mattered in this sentence. King… my … father… - Father?!!!
She didn’t even realize how funny she might look right now, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging slightly open, the perfect picture of perplexity. That was more than unexpected, more than bizarre, even more than absurd – could it even be true? He was joking, right, he HAD to be joking!
“He… you… WHAT??!!!” she stammered, not even caring how idiotic that sounded. Someone please give her poor brain a break! She had barely made it here in full possession of her right mind and now Arthur threatened to take that away completely. Arthur… Arthur Pendragon… of course…! “Bogeria… Madness“ she whispered, shaking her head.

[Arthur Pendragon]

It was very clear that his words did not exactly answer anything, but arouse a whole new level of confusion as she spoke words in an finished sentences. He just looked at her -- as she looked at him in shock -- waiting for it to sink in, nearly forgetting the fact that she had not yet answered his own question. Why was she here? How did she get in here? Well, not to be rude of course. But it was not as if his father would have welcomed her with open arms if it was discovered that she had saved Merlin's life. Arthur perhaps could have granted her entrance here in the castle, but certainly not his servant. Which left only one possibility: she must know someone here. She must know them very well for his father would not just allow any random off the street to be a guest in the Pendragon castle. And from the late hour -- and her attire -- it was clear that she was a guest. When she finally spoke again, claiming this to be madness, Arthur could not agree more. This was madness! Madness that two strangers crossed paths once again, but in his home, rather than a tavern, or in the middle of the woods, or another inn!

Several moments of silence passed, as he tried to mentally organize his thoughts. So that he could get an answer and alleviate his own confusion over this entire thing. He did not know the language the first word she spoke was, but right now, that was not the first question that he felt the need to ask. "What are you doing here?" He asked once again, now seeking an answer to his previously asked question. Though this time, it was asked with less shock -- though none of this feeling had subsided. And was asked with a softened curiosity. He was too tired. He didn't have the energy to be overwhelmed with confusion right now. He didn't have the energy to express all the emotions that these past few weeks have been filling him with, and now . . . another situation that just presented more complication. Or well, hopefully not. Hopefully her explanation would be a very simple one that Arthur could just easily accept, regardless of the inevitable convenience and coincidence it would have to it.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Only a little later Yassia realized she had not really answered Arthur’s valid question of what she was doing in Camelot as well. She had heard him asking, but his further words had simply crowded out this question and then her brain had stopped working altogether. Now it slowly took up its work again, but the princess still found it hard to really believe what she had heard. She had had a run-in with the Crown Prince of the very same country she had been searching for all along, and in a crazy adventure at that! Both had been too busy to stay alive to exchange more than first names, and in the end it had not mattered anyway. Yassia had still been keen to keep up pretenses, mask her royal background to not get into even more trouble than she had had already. And in the short time she had come to know him, Yassia already had come to realize Arthur was no one to make a fuss. He would not thumb his rank if it wasn’t necessary, and so they simply had played parts in a comical tale.

Just that the incident was not only comical but also very unfortunate. If she looked back now, much could have been spared the Princess had she known of Arthur’s true identity. She could have travelled there directly, protected by him and not constantly losing her way. Frustrating, to say in the least, but it was never good to dwell on ‘would-have-been’s. If Arthur could not have helped her in the past, he might still aid in securing her future. But for that he needed to know the truth first, which brought her back to replying to his question already!
“Camelot was my destination all along”, she confessed with a little sheepish laugh. “I came here in search of my uncle. You might very well know him: Sir Kay of Wolvesey.”

There was no doubt as Crown Prince Arthur would know one of the knights of Camelot, but she was curious as to what he would think of him. For all she had already found out her uncle was some kind of a chatoyant character. He could be gruff and even slightly shady in some of the things he did, but he also was a very loyal man and would fight for the Pendragons to his last breath. He might not be a man to be well-liked by everyone, but he was surely respected.
“When we first met I didn’t give you my full name as well”, she continued, preparing for the revelation that would surely puzzle him even more, if not even shock him to the core. “I am not a normal herb woman, as you might already have guessed. My full name is Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha, I am Crown Princess and designated Queen to the southern continental kingdom of Ailantha.”