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Chapter Text

Overture: A Fairy Tale World

It was a peaceful day; the afternoon sun shone brighter than any days past in the month, and the birds seemed merrier than ever before, their songs and tales echoing around forests, meadows and towns alike - even the woods whispered little nothings in the wind, for the curious ear to hear.

The staff of the grand castle-keep of Camelot was busy scurrying around, fulfilling their works - maids and servants frolicsomely humming as they carried various belongings such as luggage or armor or cloth - or even the odd herbal substance around, their simple garments swaying in a silent breeze.

Even the nobles were quieter than usual, keeping to themselves and away from court; and the knights and soldiers were busy practicing in and around the courtyard, the odd spectator swooning over the feats the great Lancelot was demonstrating - from high-born lord to peasant lady.

Some of the serving staff lounged near the doors to the grand entrance hall, their brethren stacking and clearing tables, ready to clean plates and silverware for the upcoming feast.

A maid was conversing politely with a young squire, flattening out any creases that might have found their way into her apron, blushing demurely at his compliments.

Another was watching her while cleaning one of the many flower vases that could be found, smiling widely at the sight of two young lovers. Ah, to be a flower again, how sweet and innocent.

Two of the kitchen staff looked enviously at the squire, having escaped their master to frolic around until later hours, and one of the kitchen-knaves, one of the older ones, with wisdom and insight, shook his head while eyeing the dust-wiper. Truly, such idiocy and foolishness of youth.

All in all, it was a pleasantly-warm and pleasantly-calm day, and even the King and Queen were ready to close court, uncharacteristically early, because the smallfolk had not asked more requests and questions of them.

Alas, such a calm and peaceful day was only possible in fairy tales - and trust the residents of the castle that not even those could be trusted - and as such, the afternoon came to a crashing halt with the echoing steps and aggravated voice that flung open the doors to the hall.

"I request an audience with the King, for I bring dire news! You have driven forth the enemies from our shores, but now there are enemies within!"

A maiden stood there, truly a sight to behold: a lady of high blood with naught but a page in tow, who seemed ready to collapse as soon as they halted. She stood in front of King Arthur, her features taut and hard - her arrival had reverberated across the whole castle like lighting; her steps like thunder.

King Arthur, clad in blue royal finery, merely raised one kingly brow, but a shudder past across the servants and waiting staff.

So much for the rest and peace.

Chapter Text

Act 1: Enter the Maiden

Gareth watched, partially hidden behind the forms of Lancelot and her brother, as the damsel told the King of her plea: her name was Lynette, a noble-born lady to heart and she would pretty please need a knight to free her sister Lyonesse from her imprisonment in the Castle Perilous - also, a river flowed to and around the structure, and there are knights guarding it. Four knights and oh, had she mentioned that her sister, whom many great lands belonged to, was of much greater beauty than herself?

The female Orkney sibling blinked and slowly shook her head at the incredulity. Leaning over to Gaheris (who also stood before her as she technically shouldn't be there), she asked silently. "...does this really happen often? Please tell me no."

He shifted slightly. "Well... this one is certainly... spirited."

Gawain grinned, mouthing you don't say, before their attention was back with the lady Lynette.

"...the fourth knight holds her prisoner in her own castle, forcing her to wed him, but my sister refuses - constantly she refuses his advances, oh King, and I do not know when she will break. The knight will only yield once he fought against Lancelot, for he wishes to overthrow your best knight and then wed poor Lyonesse in the glory of such an act."

Gareth was quite sure that she felt Arthur mutter in silent suffering, and otherwise noticed the short-but-prominent glance he sent her way - she felt more than heard Lancelot and Gawain chuckle at his plight, for that was one lady that would not leave until she got what she asked for, hell or high water.

Still, a sudden giddiness overcame her, and she had to hold herself back from grinning like a fool. This - this might be the one.

"I see..." The King nodded. "What knights are these four you speak of, then? If they manage to hold a castle alone they must be of considerable strength."

Lynette blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly. The damsel seemed to consider the question, because her next answer was more down-to-earth than her previous troubadour-worthy speech. Gareth honestly preferred it.

"Well, Your Majesty," she choose her words carefully. "They ride around the countryside, doing what they want, not heeding any rules or laws or regulations - a town near the Castle Perilous was raided by them, a fortnight before I journeyed here, and they took whatever they wanted in a manner similar to mindless beasts." Her speech became less flowery as she went on, and Arthur quirked an eyebrow and hid a smirk behind an armored hand. Even Lancelot snorted, whispering.

"Whatever you might do with your life, be glad that that mother of yours had not thought it to educate you in the ways of the 'Lady of the Court'."

Gareth agreed empathically, shifting closer to the front - the King had had a talk with her before they entered the hall, as the seneschal had already informed him that Lynette would be arriving in the afternoon. She wasn't sure of it; the last two 'Questgivers', as Gaheris liked to call them, had been assigned different knights, but Gareth was a firm believer of third time's the charm.

"I do believe that they might be fey-touched, because there is madness inside them." The woman mumbled, now more to herself. Louder, she continued. "They call themselves Morning-Star, Noonday-Sun and Evening-Star - the fourth is a black knight and believes that he is Death himself; his armor is crested with the likeness of a skeleton. Foolish they might sound, but strong they are nonetheless - as such, only someone with the might of the great Lancelot could subdue them."

King Arthur nodded, slowly. "It does sound as if they are fey-touched, yes. However-" One could see Lynette's hope dwindling. "However, I am afraid Lancelot is currently indispensable. I shall send another."

Gareth could make out the hopeful glance the damsel sent Gawain. Wrong sibling, milady. After waiting another breath - to make sure that the King would not assign, say, Bedivere to this Quest, she stepped forth from her position, carefully keeping her moves under control as she knelt down in front of Arthur. "I have to ask for a boon, my King."

Lynette stared, dread filling her eyes. The kitchen-knave? The one who had given the page something to drink? Frantically she glanced at the King. Surely he will not...?

He did.

Her newly-appointed knight-errant smiled at her, long hair falling out of it's binding, and Lynette felt anger and indignation rise. Minding her tone, but not her words, she glared at the King. "To think... here I came, making the long and ardorous journey from home, and I get not a knight but a knave!"

Lynette left the hall as she had entered it: with thunder and lightning in her wake.

Chapter Text

Interlude 1: Mother

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Interlude 2: Orkney

Sometime later, when summer had turned to fall, Gareth approached Morgan, once again with the same request. "I wish to journey to Camelot to become a knight."

Her mother sighed, taking hold of a strand of Gareth's hair and twirling it in between her fingers.

"This you ask of me every day since your brothers left; what makes you think I will allow you today?"

Gareth shrugged, and the strand fell out of her mother's hand. "If yesterday is not today, but today is the past of tomorrow, mayhap you will allow it soon."

Morgan blinked. "That... dear, that does not make much sense, I'm afraid. Really, it is much better [here] than in - Camelot; you would not wish to leave mother all a-lone, now would you?"

There was sadness seeping into Morgan's voice, a low, depressing feeling, and Gareth exhaled dejectedly. "No, mother."

0:0:0:0

The day after, however, as Gareth was busy convincing the dwarf to train with her, Morgan appeared out of the shadows of the courtyard.

"I have given it thought," the witch begun as the dwarf scurried off, "and came to the conclusion that - keeping you here [alone] is not - what should be done." A frightening grin spread across her features, not unlike Agravain's.

Gareth stared, surprised and dumbfounded. "Truly?"

Morgan cocked her head to the side, voice smooth as silk. "Yes; go to C-amelot, but follow my word, or else I won't let you go."

"Ask away and I will fulfill your wish, mother!"

The grin returned as Morgan's eyes glimmered.

"You will go and keep your name to grave -

serve as nothing more but a mere kitchen-knave

to those people you wish to join as knight,

as long as twelvemonths and a night."

The more-rational minded of the siblings flinched back slightly from her mother, remembering all-of-a-sudden that she was, in fact, a sorceress of great power. But still, falling into verse with family was rare, even for Morgan.

...well, she always did have a flair for the dramatic...

"If you manage to do that, you are free to become a knight of the -Order."

Morgan glanced into the direction the dwarf had gone, thinking. "Mh. Take two soldiers and the dwarf with you, so that they may bring back word."

"Thank you, mother!"

"[Anything] for you, dear."

Chapter Text

Act 3: Journey begin!

Lynette glared at the back of the knave as they wandered through the fey-ridden forest, her horse flicking its ears in worry. She had ridden into it with hopes of loosing her - losing her! - but had to relinquish command after she had gotten lost herself.

The King had not only given her a knave, but a woman - girl!

"...how is this possible?!" Lynette groaned as Beaumains (at least, that was what Sir Kay had called her) turned around.

"Well, fair lady, we seem to have ridden into fey territory, so take care - if you insult Our Neighbors we might be lost forever." Beaumains glanced around, worried, and Lynette knew better than to question such things; Camelot was notorious for its trade with the magical beings, and they held an alliance. Castle Perilous, being quite a fair way from the white castle, had much more shaky relations to the Neighbors.

As they traveled in silence, Lynette wondered once again how it was possible for her to have gotten such a short end of the metaphorical stick. A girl-knave who thinks herself a knight. Who speaks gallant and dashingly and behaves like one, but a girl still! A. Girl! I am sorry, Lys; I have failed you.

"Say whatever you wish and think whatever you want, but I will not leave this quest until I have fulfilled it, milady Lynette."

She snapped.

"Speaking I will! You are nothing but a scullery maid looking for glory - go back to the kitchen from which you came! My sister is in danger and we are here lost in the fey woods, circling since hours past! You-you! Argh!"

Lynette groaned as Beaumains smiled at her for the umpteenth time, but stopped herself from commenting at the somewhat forced look of it. She would yet break her.

...though, at the rate they were going, the forest might break them first. Lynette shuddered and pulled at the reins of her Sunset, the mare dutifully slowing down. "Say, Beaumains..."

Her wannabe knight slowed as well, glancing around distractedly. "Mh?"

Lynette gulped. "We... we are not following a path anymore, are we?"

Beaumains nodded slowly. "We left the designated one a short while ago, yes. This part of the woods is fey territory without question - I do not recognize the trees or flowers. So." Another worried glance. "It is turning dark, my Lady."

The sister blinked. "I- what? But. We departed at noon!" They were riding two hours at most - nowhere near enough to have turned dark already.

The blonde clicked her tongue, annoyed. "Tis be Un territory; time passes differently."

Lynette paled. Unseelie?! That's it! We will die on the first night. Lys, I am so sorry; your sister has failed you!

"And what now?!" Try as she might, the fear still seeped into her voice.

"We make a camp and stay, preferably-" her eyes darted around, their color lost to the rapidly approaching darkness around them. They halted at an old and worn looking Hawthorn tree, and Lynette's gaze followed. The tree was surrounded by mushrooms and other fungi, and it's branches hung low. "-preferably under that."

Without further ado, Beaumains jumped off from her horse, leading the skittish animal to one of the lower branches, securing its reins. Lynette stalled.

"It might look like an old tree, but there is magic flowing through its veins. It - its hard to explain, exactly; mother was always better, but-" she touched the trunk, palm laying flat against the rough bark, "It wants to protect us. Don't worry, my Lady."

There was the crooked smile again, and Lynette approached the Hawthorn slowly, eyes narrowing. "How do you know so much about the Forests?"

Beaumains refrained from answering.

0:0:0:0

Her scullery-knave-knight was leaning against the large tree, the small fire having died quite a while ago. They had secured both horses and eaten, Lynette surprised at the quality of the food prepared - then again, Beaumains had worked in the kitchens' before.

She was currently lying on the softest spot under it, head propped up on a gnarled root she was using as a pillow. The darkness had eaten her companion's eyes, and they looked as otherworldly as the forest around them. Lynette contended herself with watching the features warily from her peripheral vision, relishing in the silence of the night.

Chapter Text

Interlude 3: Road to Camelot

They had been travelling for quite some time already, Gareth and her small entourage. The dwarf had told her that Camelot would be only a day's ride away now, and urged her to rest for the night.

Her two protectors were keeping watch over her, talking in quiet, hushed tones, but it mattered little to her.

Rather, she eyed the strange pendant Mother had given her, frowning slightly. It was not in her heart to deceive her brothers and the King, but if she were recognized at once, she would be treated as a noble guest, surely not let to work in the kitchens. She was to be a silent servant to the castle, and her two human companions would report back to her mother once half of the twelve months passed, and then again at the end. The dwarf was to be her constant protector.

She had to stay hidden for as long as possible, despite the foul taste it left in her mouth. At least she would be able to tell her brothers; they were no stranger to keeping one's identity or looks hidden, as all could attest to. People distrusted witches without an affiliation, like Mother, and thus the Orkney siblings were known as Lot's children in court, and most ties to witchcraft and magecraft were hidden as best as possible.

Mordred was the sole exception, not being allowed to show his face at all - it was part of their mother's tuition, and the siblings learned not to question her.

After all - nobody questioned mother, not even Agravain.

Gareth knew that they could help her do the same, at least for the year.

Closing her eyes and succumbing to sleep, she dreamt of swords and knights and magic.

Chapter Text

Act 4: Roadtrip and Hardship

They departed early, when the forest was sleeping still, Gareth following after his chosen Lady in merriment. Despite the bad sleep she had gotten, staying awake until the dawning hours, when the Un had lessened their grip on the passage of the forest, and it had returned to be safe to trespass, she was full of energy.

She was one step nearer her goal!

Still, the Lady Lynette rode, swiftly crossing back onto the road, leaving the enchanted forest behind; heaving a relived sigh as they did so.

"Can you even fight, kitchen-knave?"

Gareth's smile split into a grin. "Of course I can! Why would you believe otherwise?"

"Maybe because the trappings of the kitchen-work are hanging around you?"

The female Orkney tilted her head. "Uh, what?"

Lynette fumed, glaring at her. "What I meant, you simpleton, is that you stink of meat and vegetables, and it is a terrible smell, indeed!"

"..." Gareth sighed; it was harder than she thought, befriending her Lady. "If you say so, my Lady, it must be the truth." At least she had stopped asking about the woods and the fey.

0:0:0:0

It was nearing sundown, when they noticed a dun in the distance. Gareth glanced at the keep, wondering if whomever was the Lord of it would let them stay the night. The Lady beside her was still grumbling obscenities the female would-be-knight was surprised she even heard about, as the road led them into another patch of green woods.

Not even Agravain had such a foul mouth-!

"Again?!" Lynette shrieked, slowing down to a leisure trot. Gareth did as well, having learned that riding in front would result in another bout of verbal chastising. They had to weave in and out of small patches of forests three times already - twice, because Gareth saw game and hunted it down and once because a bridge had collapsed.

She'd have to tell Lancelot or the King about it, once they were back in Camelot.

Still, they had to cross the woods to go to the dun, so there was no complaining. "Come along, my Lady; it should not take too long."

Lynette was about to answer, but a rustling sound drew their attention. "What the-?"

Gareth moved fast. Within the blink of an eye, she had positioned herself in front of Lynette, sword drawn and at the ready.

The rustling repeated, this time louder; more distinct.

Footsteps?

The female knight swiftly dismounted her steed, edging closer to the small hill to their right, peering down. "Bandits!" She hissed.

"What?!" Lynette - disregarding her own safety in what seemed to be a practiced move - crawled over to take a look herself. "Ruffians more like; do you see how they are clothed? Disgusting."

Gareth shot her a peeved glance. Was now the time to discuss the fashion-sense of the would-be kidnappers? - for she had noticed a well-clothed man in the middle, fearfully glancing around, bearing the noble colors of Arthur's court. The clearing was home to maybe a handful of people - six, to be precise, with the seventh being the noble - and they were ushering the poor man towards the lake at the west. Gareth grimaced.

"My Lady, it is my duty as a knight to save the man-"

Lynette bristled, still glaring at the scene in front of them. "Lead, and I'll follow." The tone broke no argument, and Gareth gave a relieved sigh. Her Lady had been right in one thing: these bandits were untrained, probably having acquired their weapons and armor from pillaging a travelling weaponsmith.

The blonde glanced over the terrain, remembering the lessons Lancelot had given her; willing to give the training she had received a go.

Gareth charged - using her momentum to disarm the bandit closest to the noble, probably breaking his arm in the process, before she turned to the second. He had his sword ready, and leapt towards her in an overhead strike. Gareth ducked low and evaded, reversing their positions as the man stumbled forward and hitting him on the backside of his skull hard enough that he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

The remaining four blinked, before the tallest - possibly their leader, if she were to guess - took a slow step forward.

"Well, well well; what do we have here? A knight." He leered, drawing his axe; handling it with much more finesse than his two brethren.

Gareth smirked. Time to impress the lady.

0:0:0:0

"Thank you, Sir Knight!" The Baron was massaging his sore wrists as he glanced gratefully at Beaumains, Lynette next to them, watching the unfolding scene in silence.

The scullery-knave-knight chuckled, sheathing her dagger. "What reason did they have to, ah, surprise you so in the middle of the woods, good Ser?"

Baron Humbert shrugged in good humor. "They have been doing this for almost three fortnights, now, so they have every good reason to hate me. The vermin that they are, they drown their victims in this lake, you see? I have been keeping these woods clean from such lowlife as them, and finally found them in the act; thusly they decided to get rid of myself in the same matter - drowning me in the pond."

Lynette perked up at that. "You are the keeper of these woods?"

"Yes; my dun is just over the hilltop further north. Mayhap quarter a day-ride away. If not less. And I have been the watcher for even longer." The Baron eyed them both. "I will not be an ungrateful fellow, Sir Knight; so speak up and I shall offer, as long as it is within my might and reason to do so."

Beaumains shook her head. "There is no need for a price, for your wellbeing is price enough - I fulfilled my duty as a knight to the people and King. I would simply ask for harborage for the fair Lady, for we travelled long and shall need rest."

The Baron eyed her, and turned his gaze to Lynette, before he though. "You are one of Arthur's knights, then? Of the Table Round?"

Lynette laughed.

Chapter Text

Interlude 4: Gates and Fates

They were standing in front of Camelot's gateway, peering at the town and castle behind it.

"Woah," Gareth whispered. "My brothers weren't kidding when they said it was beautiful - look at this!" She had broken into a broad grin, euphoric to finally have reached her destination.

Her two companions glanced at each other, unsure. They could feel the magic working through the gate and town, and they were wary. "This is a city made by the fair folk; one built by magicians and our neighbors - we even heard-!"

"Hush, you two." Gareth glanced at them.

The second tried as well. "There is a bounded field around the premise, milady. Everyone who sets foot under the archway will be announcing their presence to the wizard."

"I felt it myself, thank you." She had her mother's blood flowing through her veins - of course she noticed the powerful field. Even further, Morgan employed the same tactic for her lair (not that her companions had to know). The dwarf snorted beside her, his gaze not leaving the gateway.

And what a gateway it was: its keystone was adorned with the image of the Lady of the Lake, waves rippling around her and in the stonework, her dress seemingly flowing as she held sword and censer in hand, centerpiece to the twelve great battles Arthur had done; aligned six to her left and six to her right, topped by the Three Queens at topmost, as if overlooking everything.

Runes and symbols of both human and other origin were weaved around the scene; the dragon-bought and elvish emblems curling, and Gareth had to blink after staring at it for too long, because the images seemed to shift. She glanced to the dwarf, question at the tip of her tongue - were dwarves not master craftsmiths? - when her senses started flaring.

She turned around, back to the gate, where a man stood, dressed in robes of purple and white. "Who might you be," he questioned, hood obscuring his face.

Gareth answered, eyes narrowing. "We are nothing but mere travelers from the north, journeying to Camelot." The man seemed to chuckle, flowers blooming around him. His very presence set the hairs on her neck on edge. He was a very powerful, probably old, mage, to not even bother masking his presence at all. She was unable to determine if he was friend or foe, as her own meagre magecraft was unable to latch onto him.

"I see, how nice." He patted the gate fondly, and Gareth could make out a hint of purple under the hood. Powerful indeed.

"Yes, however; my companions seem to doubt entering town will be safe, as they believe this place to be not entirely human."

The man laughed, finally letting his hood fall back to reveal a youth with white hair and soft features. The squirrel-like creature that had followed him stared, turning heels at his feet and scurrying away. "There are tales that the fey have gathered together, coming from their forests and swaps and moors, to lay the foundation of the chalk castle of Camelot; and that amongst those, many have stayed to build the halls and walls of it, helping the humans hand-in-hand. That the Faerie Queenes and Kings have come to dine at the King's table, and that some of their otherworldly magecraft has bled into the town. That some even reside in the castle, working as maids and manservants to the King and Queen.

"Who knows," he smirked, "mayhap even the King himself is nothing more but a changeling - he has the blood of the dragon, after all." It was finished with a wink in her direction.

Gareth stared at him.

She stared for a second longer.

She still stared.

"Are you mocking me?!"