Chapter Five: Three New Mad Men, Three New Knights and One New Physician for Camelot a.k.a SEGUE

Chapter Four  or Chapter Six

Chapter Five:  

Three New Mad Men, Three New Knights and One New Physician for Camelot

 a.k.a 

SEGUE

Somewhere outside the main walls of Camelot an entirely different sort of stranger wakes to find himself in an entirely different sort of space. His eyes slowly and with some difficulty begin to open with only darkness there to greet them. The sound of water dripping can be heard along the echo, with no revelation to its source. He is disoriented, seemingly alone. Judging by his hands that feel to be strung up over his head and his feet unable to rest steady on the floor beneath them, he quickly concludes he is captive as well.  He moves his tongue and jaw to speak, but is halted by the pain of tissues and muscles swollen from some unfavorable encounter now left rendered a mystery to even him. The roof of his mouth tastes of old blood; clearly he had encountered his fill of that which was not his own, not too  unlike awakening to a wine induced hangover,  from a night of over embellished celebration. As strange as these feelings are, alone or in combination – none are anything he could claim was unfamiliar to him. He takes a deep breath and prepares to push through the pain, “Hello – is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?”

Not long after his question is asked, he receives an answer as a soft, small light enters the space. Almost out of nowhere she steps forward. A woman dressed in black from head to toe, her skin – what little that is illuminated by her lamp’s light, is as cold and pale as winter’s snow. Her features are sharp and her eyes a piercing pale green. Her hair black as a raven’s feather, falls in ringlets around her face. As young as she appears, her presence – in the way she holds herself, in the person she allows others to see removes any misgivings of someone burden with naivety. “All I seem to hear these last three nights is you.”

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust the new light, taking in the view that stood before him, he coughs to clear his throat, allowing his wit to follow with reply “Well, I’m sure if you explain – I will apologize. What exactly have you heard?” he offered and asked.

She hesitates for a moment, and her hesitation reveals a wrinkle in her otherwise stoic exterior “Sometimes you are moaning, sometimes screaming.”

He sighs as best he can, looking up at his hands bound above his head “Can’t begin to imagine why…” he begins to reply, but is quickly cut off.

“Buts other times you are laughing, other times still I here singing – though I don’t recognize any of it,” she interrupted.

“Yeah probably Disney,” he began, looking back to her, “I would really like to get to that apology I mentioned before, but is there any way we can continue this with a few less restraints – I can assure you this is no longer necessary,”

The woman smiled briefly “You have killed servants of my enemy, in my mind this would make us natural friends, though not trusted ones.”

The man paused when her words echoed around him, clearly the news left him troubled “We killed someone?”

“There’s more than one of you?” she asked curiously.

“Of sorts, at times, yes,” he replied “Now, I know I am weak now, but I’m not always – I think you might already know that,” he began looking between her and the restraints that held him “I’m not one to boast, believe me, but I know those times when I’m not, those are times where bindings like these couldn't hold me, not for 3 days at least. So maybe I’m drugged, maybe I’m injured – don’t know yet, but I know you do. So release me, I’m sure whatever it is- it will protect you”

She hesitates again, looking over the figure strung up before her, dangling from his bindings. She knew he was right, more was holding him there than just some rope, but still, she paused unsure of her next move. He confused her, not that she showed it. He didn't even appear to her now as he had before. His eyes were softer than before, his hair thinner than that of the man she first found lost in the woods outside Camelot’s gates just a few nights past. He even appeared smaller in stature than when she first restrained him, she was certain his feet rested even upon the floor then and now – now here swayed an impossible man. Finally she produces a dagger from her belt, slicing through the rope, sending the man free and hard down upon the stone floor. “I can return you there just as swiftly,”

The man, shaking, gathered his strength and pushed himself to his feet, leaning on what felt to be a wall for support “I’m counting on it. Does my warden have a name?”

“Morgana,” she replied honestly, “And my captive?”

“Tom Jackman – for now,” he replied – for the moment, honestly as well “Lead the way Morgana.”

She turned to lead him out of the darkness and into whatever awaited on just the other side.

***

Time passes and night returns to day as life begins to stir once more deep within the heart of Camelot’s fortress. A crowded chamber bustles with life and renewed energy as six weary travelers wake to good news. After yesterday’s continuous  efforts to care, repair and aid four  fallen knights back to good health, the brilliant physicians are greeted with a two weak and unexpected smiles. A greeting that thrilled the doctor John Watson beyond measure, and left their keeper Gaius, the court’s high physician grateful and stunned “All this from mold, vinegar and tea?” Gaius asked in a moment of disbelief.

  “And a little hope, a prayer and some luck I suppose” John replied, trying to remain humble, but even his grace was faltering to his pride.

“And no magic?” Gaius asked curiously, he had remained by John’s side from the start, assisting him as best he could, he had not seen any he had recognized, but he had also not witnessed much that was familiar to him in any of John’s methods.

“Nope, as far as I know at least. Science is really more my background,” John replied, still offering a humble front.

“All the better for you in Camelot for such a case – as I know Camelot is all the better for you,” Gaius remarked in turn “Well, John you truly are skilled beyond your years”

“Not really” John replied with a smirk, that humble exterior beginning to crack “just skilled beyond yours” he added as he regained his composure “These two should be on their proper feet in a day or two, though crutches may need to be assembled for them. The other two – I suspect may take another day or two just to come around, they’re more severely damaged, but they made it this far.” John finished as he turned away from Gaius and the recovering Knights to join the others who had for the most part gathered around a make shift table, his eyes immediately spy out a small bowl of what appears to be red berry preservatives. “Is that Jam?” he asked starting to gather a couple of nearby bread rolls.

“It is and it is good too, not as good as this pie though” Dean replied, speaking mostly through a mouth full of pie “Pie in King Arthur’s court,” he mused “this is really starting to be one of the best trippy time trips yet”

“Yet?” the Doctor chimed in, he was standing nearby digging through some clothes Merlin had dropped by at some point before the morning had really began “Do the three of you do this often?”

“Not very” Sam replied, as he slipped a white tunic over his head, followed by a belt around his hips “but when we do, it’s mostly Dean who goes.”

“Why’s that?” John asked, as he bit down into a freshly jammed roll.

“Hell if I know,” Dean replied swallowing hard.

“Well, we don’t have a blue box. If we go anywhere it’s usually by angel,” Sam answered “Angels seem to be more partial to Dean so to speak.”

“It’s cause I’m adorable,” Dean snickers.

“Your qualities of endearment have never been a factor in the decisions,” Castiel chimed in, for reasons only he felt needed to be pointed out. Finishing his own ensemble, as he adorned a long vest like garment made of embellished leather. It was long like a robe, almost resembling a sleeveless black leather trench coat.

“Well, that should really stop –  humans has no business wandering about through time, all the damage it can do, and trust me I know what I’m talking about, first hand experiences every last one of them,” the Doctor grumbled as he dug further into the pile. He was, of course, referring to many of his multiple human companions that he had traveled with over the years, each one sorely missed, of course the reference was lost on the rest of the group, but at the same time, it was something the rest of the group was growing quite used too. “None of this is right – no fezzes, no bow ties, no suspenders – in other words nothing cool. How can you expect me to work in something that isn't cool?” he asked in a somewhat rhetorical fashion.

“Well you can’t go in front of Arthur like that. He may be not be Uther, but he is his son – you won’t get very far walking in looking as you do now,” Gaius reminded.  

Still, no sooner did Gaius finish his warning does the Doctor shoot up from the pile of clothing and his searching with a trophy held up for all to see “A Poncho! I haven’t worn a poncho in centuries! Now ponchos are cool!” he exclaimed as he slipped it over his shoulders.

At that time Merlin entered the chamber once more, yawning as he did so “Right, so finished up with my morning chores, postponing my midday tasks with you as an excuse,” he announced, looking to Gaius as he took a seat around the makeshift food table and grabbing and apple from a center arrangement as he did so. 

“Has everyone eaten?”

“Everyone who is going to eat," John replied with a hint of annoyance.

“What do you mean everyone who is going to eat? This may be your last chance at a real meal for some time. I wouldn't advise missing it.” Merlin remarked looking at the others who were still assembling their outfits and finishing their meals, all save for Sherlock who still stood dressed in the same suit he had worn for two days’ time now. 

“I don’t normally eat during a case,” Sherlock muttered in return, for a change.

“You do not eat, you do not seem to sleep and when you speak it isn't much and when you do I can’t always understand what you’re saying. None of you are from anywhere around here – and all these hours that I have spent so busy helping you and serving my king, I have nothing more to show of who any of you are aside for your physician – whom by the grace of sciences beyond my understanding has begun to repair and heal these men,” Merlin trailed off between bites.

“What are you trying to say, exactly?” Sherlock asked.

“A few hours from now you will face the King. Now, I believe your intentions are true and you wish to help, and in return I want to help you, but I can’t help you if I don’t know you,” Merlin replied, his point resounding.

“Like a bond? Something in common we share?” Castiel asked, interrupting the words that had started to alienate Merlin and Sherlock both.

“Of sorts, yes,” Merlin replied, his eyes still pinned mostly on Sherlock.

“I’m afraid there isn’t much we can explain or even safely express to you, about who or what we are. And as much as it pains me to suggest this, perhaps an alternative; we all have secrets Emrys, perhaps this should be the basis of our bond for now,” Castiel suggested.

Merlin, who at times, to some - but not many, is known by the name Emrys, pauses for a moment, looking over to Gaius who was standing across the room where the Knights gathered their rest. His question was clear on his face, but Gaius had nothing but a shallow shrug to offer in return. Merlin then turned his glance to the faces in the room, of the six that surrounded him only the Doctor’s seemed to echo recognition. Finally, with a hard swallow he replied, “Right, well, I don’t know what any of you will say to Arthur, but my best advice is use the tournament to your advantage. Gwaine and I will see to it you get your moment and we’ll stand by you for your assistance,” he added as he looked to John, “for which I know Arthur will be grateful.”

“So, no matter what happens with you lot, I should stay in the clear,” John commented with a smirk, one that was intended for teasing, even if in truth it was well deserved.

“Well,” Merlin began as he stood up, taking another apple along with him as he does so, “Like all Kings, Arthur has an eye for distraction, he’ll always look left when given a reason too,” he remarked as he walked towards the door that led back into the halls “I’ll return for the rest of you soon” he informed before departing once more.

“Do you have one?” Sam asked, turning his attention to the Doctor.

The Doctor appeared confused at first, “One what?”

“A plan, Doc, do we have one?” Sam replied and asked once more.

“Of course, I always have a plan, but only in the since that I nearly always never do. I find plans to be these big difficult things - take up so much room and always get in the way. No room for flexibility. One slip and it’s just broken and left to collect dust,” the Doctor replied in a way that was as honest and confusing as he could possibly manage. “I mean I sort of had a plan for everything up till now and we ended up in Camelot, locked out of my TARDIS, facing a King whose bias attitude in regards to magic and mystery and things outside of the normal as captured in legend couldn't have been further from the reality we now face in his presence. Not a very good argument for a plan mentality in my opinion.”

“So, you think we should just walk in there without a plan?” John asked curiously.

“Yes and No, or No and Yes, or at the very least not exactly, I say we get dressed up, walk in there, stand like we belong there and speak when spoken too,” the Doctor replied in his most confident tones.

“That is a rubbish plan,” John replied rather bluntly.

The Doctor nodded in agreement “Yes, but it is however a brilliant outline, it’s a start. I’ll have something by the time we get there, just let me do all the talking – it’s usually the way these things tend to play out and almost never fails me.”

John and the others stood mostly paused, staring at the Doctor long after his words had finished, when finally Dean smiled in between bites of food “Honestly, we have worked with less and walked away just fine.”

“And should anything go wrong, I’m still in the clear.” John observed for a second time, the idea that he had already more than earned his keep sat well on him in light of the unexpected circumstances that he found himself in. At this time Sherlock, who had actually broken away from the conversation long enough to sort through what was left of the clothing, walked over to John, handing him a long red tunic.

“Just in case almost never should occur,” Sherlock suggested as he passed off the garment as he continued on moving away from the others to assemble his own outfitting.

A short while later, outside the heavy doors that served as the gates to Arthur’s throne room, Merlin found himself in unexpected relief, looking at the six strangers all lined up, preparing to be presented.  Each man had managed to somehow step into a different era by simply stepping into a different outfit each. Dean, Sam and Castiel pretty much fitted like classic knights in their off time, save for Dean’s vest and Castiel’s cloak, the three easily made a matching, scaling set. The Doctor,on the other hand, had for the most part refused to change, and opted to simply cover. Still the covering, when placed in alignment with the others, sufficed to shroud who he was, whoever he was. Then there was John, who did stand out a bit, dressed in a red tunic that clearly displayed Camelot’s seal and colors – the tunic it’s self was lengthy and would have fit Sam well, but on John it only left him drowned, but Sherlock insisted and Merlin has washed his hands over attempts to reasons why. And finally there was the man himself, Sherlock, even dressed in the style of the realm that was provided him, he still managed to stand out. His original purple shirt hidden away behind a leather vest piece that seemed to be assembled through a series of straps and brackets, and across his shoulders draped a long blue scarf not that much unlike Merlin’s own, though presented with a different grace. Merlin sighed heavily, just shaking his head; the look is only the start. “You are all good; I know this, what you have done for those men, Arthur’s men, has been unbelievable, truly. Now it’s time to change that, give him something he can believe and accept.” Merlin advised one last time, in a low whisper which only drove home the weight of the situation that they were walking into, as he turned and led them into the chamber. Once more they group found themselves in the massive hall that served as Arthur’s throne room. Moving past the massive and empty round table that no longer existed in legend alone, walking further and in uniform to where upon the thrones, King Arthur sat with his queen at his side. A small select group of knights and servants crowded to either side and behind the thrones stood the TARDIS, though it was poorly masked behind burgundy drapes for obvious reasons. The King was young, far younger than any of them had expected, but his youth aside he appeared with the command that was truly signature to his position, holding and reinforcing the majesty as he stood to greet them as they stopped and aligned in front of them. “These are the men whose early arrival has saved the lives of your men, sire” Merlin informed him, stepping to his place alongside Sir Gwaine and the others.

The king’s blue eyes quickly took in the six faces that presented before him, pausing for a moment before finally easing the tension in the room with his voice. “I’m grateful to each of you, but I’m afraid I have to ask for your forgiveness, for I don’t not recognize a single one of you,” he began honestly.

The Doctor opened up his mouth prepared to speak, to explain, when he was cut off, not only verbally but also in view as Sherlock stepped forward unexpectedly. “No forgiveness is necessary, I assure your highness. I’m afraid much time has passed since last any from the lands governed by the house of ÆÐELFRIÐ have passed through the gates of Camelot, just as I can assure you now that we have returned; it is as ambassadors of peace. When news of the tournament reached our lands, our Queen felt it marked an opportunity to rebuild relations between the lands, sending her three best knights to compete.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow to the reasoning, addressing Sherlock directly now as he spoke “And this opportunity inspired you to arrive early, unannounced and unexpected?”

Sherlock lowered his eyes in a show of humility and respect, most unexpected for him, but of course this wasn't really him anymore. “Our apologies to you then, sire. It was our understanding the competition was open to all nobles the news could reach.”

“It was, but that does not explain your timing,” Arthur replied.

“Our queen expects us to arrive with nothing short of impeccable timing, so I am afraid the fault of our early arrive rests entirely with the company. The day before we had planned to arrive in Camelot, one of our men fell ill. Unable to assist him properly we decided to push on in our travels, not stopping for camp that night. We arrived in Camelot very late and were greeted and welcomed by your guards who immediately recognized our need for assistance, and in helping us, our physician” he paused gesturing back towards the Doctor, instead of John “recognized your needs as well and was able to assist your men as best we could and too much success. One turn of kindness always warrants an immediate other.”

Arthur smiled with a nod “I couldn't agree more, and I am aware of how true a gift your arrival in this matter has been.”

Sherlock, returning to eye contact, offered a warm smile, one that would have only struck John as being unnatural. “Allow me, as steward of the group, to introduce my lords. I present to you the three very best knights Queen Hudson of ÆÐELFRIÐ could offer; Sir Dean, Sir Samuel and Sir Castiel. As for the rest of the group, our brilliant physician, Doctor; myself Sherlock; and finally Doctor’s assistant and servant, John. And I ask your forgiveness of awkward appearance. I’m afraid his clothing was ruined in the midst of activities here already and he lacked foresight to prepare for such an easily predictable occurrence.”

“I understand entirely, Merlin has been known to commit the same folly,” Arthur joked, his demeanor growing more at ease with each passing moment. “Your arrival is welcomed and clearly your timing destined. 

Camelot would be honored to have these knights in active competition. As for your stay, as a thank you, I would like to invite you to stay within the castle, and I offer my personal servant Merlin to your disposal. I look forward to renewing the bonds between our lands.” Arthur replied, offered and announced before regaining his more regal composure. “Now if you’ll excuse me there is still much to do to prepare for the tournament that begins tomorrow, I am needed elsewhere in my kingdom. Though I do look forward to speaking with each of you at a later time, please use this time to rest after what I’m sure was a very long journey.”

Sherlock lead with a shallow bow, one of which inspired the others to follow suit, before the small group of six weary and now welcomed travelers were lead once more into the hall. Once the door had been closed behind them, and the others were sure they were clear of ear shot, both the Doctor and John simultaneously moved forward with the same question “What was that??”

Sherlock smiled, this time one that was only natural and at home upon him “That gentlemen, was a plan – a very well executed one if I may say so myself,” he replied as he briskly continued on, ahead of the others, Merlin surprisingly at his side. The two men picked up the lead and the others followed suit before finally they found themselves again within the sanctuary of Gaius’ chamber. Once the door was closed the mouth opened and the questions began.

“So, personal feelings aside as to what just occurred there, because let’s face it with y-o-u there’s no point in even bothering,” John began, as the first one to step up, speaking to Sherlock, “but, still, why did you tell him the Doctor was the one who saved his men?”

“Because he needs  it more,” Sherlock replied gesturing over to the Doctor, who appeared just a shocked over the matter and slightly offended by the assertion that he needed anything, let alone credit for someone else’s work. After a moment passes with no one demeanor revealing any sign of comprehension, Sherlock rolls his eyes and continues “The Doctor stands out like a sore thumb. Now I’m not one to adorn disguises, but in this instance it was unavoidable and his best effort was to cover his image, which really isn’t enough to properly conceal, at least not when we are dealing with a king who is already likely on edge over the recent events. Add that to the fact that he’s not exactly the easiest man in the world to follow; did we really want him talking? Can you honestly tell me you could have said anything to him that would have eased his already, understandably paranoid mind?” He asked looking over to the Doctor.

“How did you know he would be paranoid?” Merlin asked.

“He’s a king, a young King at that – is there any other kind?” Sherlock replied, and all Merlin could do was nod in agreement.

“I’ll have you know this isn't the first King I've encountered and I have always managed before,” the Doctor replied folding his arms across his chest.

“Yes, well, I am sorry to say Doctor, your words is no longer good enough for me. At least not in this instance. I calculated the risks and determined it was in our best interest to intervene.” Sherlock replied with little modesty.

John admittedly at least had to nod in an agreement. The idea of Sherlock speaking in place of the Doctor at least placed him at ease, but still, “Sorry, I’m confused, weren't you explaining why you told him the Doctor healed his men? I mean how does any of this qualify as a need?” John asked keeping Sherlock on course. 

“When we walked in there Arthur stood to greet us, referring to us as a group as he did so. Now, if he knew amongst us which one of us was truly responsible for saving the lives of his men, wouldn't he have gone out of his way to greet said man above the others?” Sherlock asked almost rhetorically. “I mean we are talking about a man who allows his servants to refer to him by name – even if it’s not in the presence of his court. Both Gwaine and Merlin referred to him as both Arthur and King when we first encountered them upon our arrivals, which tells us the habit is well established if it comes into play in front of a group of strange and highly suspicious men. So I took the opportunity to establish the Doctor as the physician, so should he continue to insist on being the person we've witnessed him to be in front of the paranoid King, at least he’ll have the advantage of already being in the King’s graces, an advantage that could likely save not only his life, but the lives of the men who associate him. In other words, us,” he emphasized offering  an encompassing gesture towards the bulk of the group “which, after spending only a short time with the Doctor, I can safely say it’s an advantage he’ll likely need. You said so yourself John; and should anything go wrong, I’m still in the clear. He needs it more.”

“Right, okay – fine,” John began to reply with a heavy sigh “Whatever, credit is not really why we do any of this anyways,”

And even the Doctor had to nod as well “Fine, clever, and fair enough. I don’t see why you had to cut in. I would have handled it,”

“So you say, but each time any of the others tried to speak to you about a plan you kept dropping the matter. You say you would have handled it, but again, in this instance, your word is not enough for me,” Sherlock replied and reiterated.

“Yeah, Doc, I have to agree with Sherlock here. I’m all for winging things, but even I’m unsure of what you would have done given the circumstance,” Sam spoke up agreeing with Sherlock's reasoning.

“Yeah by the way, while we’re still on topic – I get why you stepped up, but how did you’ll pull that off? I mean El-frid?” Dean asked.

“ÆÐELFRIД Sherlock corrected, though phonetically, Dean’s pronunciation was spot on. “It’s a very old Anglo-Saxon surname that stands for nobility and peace. I felt it was appropriate. It’s probably not even a real place, but it’s the closest thing I could come up with on the spot,” Sherlock explained further.

“As far as I know, it’s not.” Merlin added and informed.

“ Aren't we worried that maybe the King might know that? I mean for all we know he could have armed guards lining up on the other side of that door right now.” Dean replied, voicing a well-placed point.

“He very well might. It’s unlikely though,” Sherlock answered.

“And why do you feel it’s unlikely?” John asked, knowingly and willingly asking what he was sure Sherlock would deem an obvious question.

“Arthur may be a paranoid King at the moment, but he is also a very busy King. He's juggling a tournament, an investigation, and he’s still fairly new to the position of King from what I gather. Only just now a year?” Sherlock asked looking over to Merlin. Who nodded, confirming the estimate. “The man has his hands full. So, we walk in, already in his graces for saving his men, we present well and offer reasonable explanations for all of his questions, like a parent checking under the bed and in the closet to ensure the frightened child that all the monsters are away, to reassure them that they are truly safe and sound from a danger that wasn't even real in the first place, allowing the child to slip off to sleep.”

“Walked in and handed him a false sense of security allowing him to return to the more pressing matters at hand.” Sam said aloud, summing up.

“Exactly,” Sherlock replied rather proud of himself.

“Yeah, but now we have another problem. That plan of yours just signed those three up for a tournament. Arthur knows their faces, he’ll be expecting to see these new champions in action,” the Doctor pointed out.

“Yes, about that, can any of you joust? Or wield a sword? Any good with archery?” Merlin asked looking over to Sam, Dean and Castiel.

“Jousting? No, but the rest of the stuff we might be able to hold our own,” Sam began to reply looking over to Castiel and Dean. “I mean we've really never done any of this for sport, but I think we know our way around a sword.”

“Arthur did say I was at your disposal. If Gaius can part with me as well, I can certainly help you with that,” Merlin suggested looking over to Gaius who was still attending to the knights which were all fast asleep.

“Of course he can. He can have John to help him, the real physician who’s been helping him all along – so problem solved,” Sherlock began to announce aloud “John will help Gaius. Dean, Sam and Castiel will keep up appearances in the tournament. Leaving you, Doctor, and myself to track down whoever took your box”

Fan Art By: Lyndsey Gerlach 04/2013 

"the 11th Doctor" & "Jekyll"