bitchprince | Woods Outside Camelot and Beyond, Thursday Morning

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Woods Outside Camelot and Beyond, Thursday Morning

Arthur did not think this was a good idea. Not in the slightest. In fact, Merlin had received a Stern Talking To or twenty about not bloody well using his magic in public and inviting more witches over. He had not forgotten about what happened the last time, and he had learned his lessons.

As such, he had absolutely no clue how Merlin had managed to talk him into letting his friend Tara turn up anyway. Privately, he was starting to suspect sorcery.

But it was time, now. So Arthur had made Merlin saddle up the horses, and they had ridden out the gate for a 'hunting trip' that would not be pleasurable in either sense of the word. Ridden out into the woods to the one safe spot where portals occasionally could come through, gotten off the horses, and waited. It was lovely weather now, being the dawn of summer, and Arthur would have enjoyed it in most other circumstances.

Still. At least it wasn't Karla.

[[ for a wizard and then a witch, please! ]]

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"It will be fine," Merlin assured him. "So, stop worrying."

"I am not worrying, Merlin," Arthur retorted. He just remembered the last time this happened. God.

"You're worrying."

Whether Arthur was or was not worrying, the witch was incoming. The portal blinked into view, and Tara stumbled out with her bag in hand. She rotated slowly before she spotted Arthur and Merlin and a smile flickered over her face.

"It's really good to see you," she said, mostly to Merlin. "And here. It's beautiful. Th-thank you for having me."

She knew her magic might create some complications, but it struck her as easy enough to handle. She'd spent the previous three months not talking about magic much, anyhow.

"You are, of course, welcome," Arthur said, a bit stiffly. He was the crown prince here, and over a year of being back in Camelot had stripped him of some of his consideration for Fandom's weird thing about equality. "Though I do ask you not to use your magic while you stay in Camelot."

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur, moving forward to offer help with her bag. "It won't be bad!"

"I ... wasn't really going to use magic," she said, a little confused. "I mean, unless there's an emergency, but ... rules kind of go away in an emergency, right?" That might not have been reassuring, which Tara realized as she added, "And there won't be an emergency anyhow."

She let Merlin take her bag. It hadn't seemed heavy when she packed it, but ... "Sorry if that's too big. I, um, kind of keep picking up stuff as I travel."

"Arthur is overly cautious," Merlin informed her, shouldering the bag. "We might not have as much to pick up here."

"I'm not overly cautious. The last time a witch visited us, you nearly wound up burnt at the stake," Arthur said, irritably. He shot Tara a brief glance. "You'll have to stay in the servant's quarters," he added, sounding less severe by far. "I... know that can be a bit uncomfortable for people from your time."

"I'd really, really rather not get almost-burnt," Tara said, paling slightly. "Servant's quarters are okay" -- for a few nights and with forwarning, anyhow -- "but will my accent be a problem? My English accent is sort of, um, nonexistent."

"If anyone asks you're from Ealdor," Merlin suggested. "And--and--haven't spoken correctly since you were kicked by a horse."

Oh, he was so smooth with his lies.

Arthur shot him a Look.

"You'll be a peasant from a far-away village, come to look for work, and I graciously offered you a job."

"I like that better," Tara said, then turned to Merlin apologetically. "Sorry. The kicked by a horse makes me sound, um, a little stupid."

"But it would explain why you don't know things too!" Merlin, let it go. It's never going to happen.

He sighed, shouldering the bag again. "You'll need to borrow a dress from Gwen to fit in."

"Dresses are Merlin's area of expertise," Arthur explained. Mockingly. It made him feel better about this, hush.

Tara was just going to ignore the mocking.

"I guess my skirt isn't quite right," she said, glancing down at her (covered, but gauzily) legs. "Is Gwen my size? What's she like?"

Merlin was following Tara's lead on the ignoring. Because he was the mature one.

Really.

"Gwen? She's the nicest person you'll meet here," Merlin assured her. "And, if the dresses don't fit, she's a great seamstress."

"Right, I'll let you two chat like girls, then," Arthur said, trotting towards the horses.

Ignoring him. As if.

"I am a girl," Tara pointed out. "What am I supposed to chat like?"

Her eyes were going soft as they got closer to the animals. She was one of those girls who got all gooey around horses, and she didn't get to ride very often.

"He's just upset he can't talk about swords," Merlin whispered loud enough for Arthur to catch. Because he was nice like that.

Arthur ignored him, as was only right, and grasped his horse by the reigns. Whatever, Merlin.

Tara patted her horse on the nose, then hitched herself up and onto it with a certain degree of grace.

"I could talk about swords," she offered. "They're ... pointy, and you can poke things with them, and ... Kennedy really likes them."

"Pointy," Merlin agreed. Because he was also an expert on these things.

"Have some respect for the art of the sword," Arthur said, hauling himself up onto his horse. "Especially since you can't even hold one up without falling over, Merlin."

Tara gave Merlin a look over her shoulder, half sympathy and half is he always like this?, and tried for tact.

"Sorry if I sounded disrespectful," she said. "It's just ... not my thing. So, um, what have you guys been up to around here?"

It was a lame subject change, but it was the best she could do.

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