Out of Time

Chapter 39

Merlin stepped into the Great Hall, startled when a feminine voice barked out his name as soon as he appeared. He looked up, drawing himself out of his own head, and his heart lifted at the smile on Danielle's face. Finally.

He walked straight over to her, looming over her seated form. "How are things with you?"

She shrugged, looking away. "I was just wondering, you know, if you could do something for me."

"I would move mountains for you, my queen." He added the "my queen" bit for fear that she would realize how much he cared for her. It was stupid to care for her so much.

"Do you know if Arthur is okay? Will he be coming home soon?"

Merlin sagged, sitting in the chair beside her. "I'm sorry. That is not within my power. I am not omniscient, though many have thought me so."

She nodded, sinking back into her gloom.

"Do not worry so. He will be fine. I have never seen a more formidable warrior." And Arthur had never been fated to die so early in his tale.

She frowned at him. "You don't know that. What did I tell you about false hopes?"

"Don't?"

"You know as well as I do that the future we thought we knew about Arthur has been changed in ways we cannot hope to fathom."

An odd expression crossed her face.

"What, Danielle? What is it?"

"Everything has changed, and yet not." She tapped her fingernails against the wood table. "It's unlikely that the animosities that were destined to eventually see his end have disappeared simply because I have entered the story." She turned, her gaze settling on Arthur's sister, Morgan, who stood arguing with a servant near the door leading to the kitchen. "Plans change."

"Yes, they do." He mentally kicked himself, realizing he'd allowed hope to get the better of him. He'd let the terrible fates Arthur had been destined to slip completely from his mind, hoping that the changes had changed that too.

She grabbed both of Merlin's hands, looking deep into his eyes, a certain frenzy there. "Tell me everything. Tell me who all conspired against him in your visions. Tell me what they planned. Tell me how he died. Leave no detail out."

"Danielle..." he said, exasperated.

"No, listen. I know these things aren't destined to happen again, but maybe, just maybe, we can use them to prevent history from repeating itself."

History repeating itself? He puzzled over her wording, but let the words spill, every ugly vision, every impossible, painful detail.

It felt good to have an ally for once.

#

Arthur returned to Camelot several weeks later with a smile on his face. Home, finally. He'd never been so grateful to see those beautiful walls. Cheers rang out from the men on the wall as they caught sight of him, and all his men behind him.

They'd suffered minimal casualties, as so the army that returned was almost as large as the one that left. Soon enough, there would be tears and grief as mothers, wives and children realized their loved ones would never return to them, and as acknowledgement of their sacrifice, he would hold a feast in his men's honor—honoring the dead. It was only right.

He and his men passed through the gate, and his smile faltered. Something wasn't right. Arthur couldn't put his finger on it, but the people seemed... subdued. He handed the care of his horse over to his stable master, and jogged into the keep, intent on finding his bride and greeting her properly.