"He is going to kill me." Merlin said dumbstricken as he looked at the spot Arthur had stood not that long ago.

Sure, Merlin had once more saved Arthur's arse, but where he had gone off to, Merlin did not know. What he did know was that, if Arthur were to stand where he stood, an iron blade would have pierced his torso. Merlin was not certain – would this have happened – Arthur would have held onto life. After all, they were miles away from Camelot.

The adversaries were lowering their swords, confused by what had just happened in front of them. Merlin could not deny that he could relate. He had just returned from fetching wood for the fire when he heard a loud ruckus. Confused to hear that much noise from the quiet forest, he decided to take a look. Merlin thanked all the Gods he knew for making that decision. Arthur might have disappeared into thin air, but at least he was not dead. Yet, Merlin hoped. "Oh Gods, what have I done?" he quietly mumbled from behind a bush surrounded by trees.

Merlin knew what to do – well, he half did, anyway – he was to return to Camelot immediately. Seek Gaius' counsel. Should anyone ask him about Arthur's whereabouts, Merlin knew he was to reply with his usual answer to Arthur's whereabouts: he had gone hunting. Truth be told, Merlin never did have the stomach for it.

Whilst Merlin tried to escape the woods, something completely different was taking place at the other side of the world; years and years away from the situation not just Merlin was having difficulties with.

"WHERE is my moron of a servant?" Arthur raised his sword, demanding an answer.

"Your what?"

"Merlin – you must have seen him somewhere. He goes wherever I go; therefore, he must be here. Wherever 'here' is."

"New York, that's where here is – and no, I didn't see this 'servant' you're talking about."

Richard Castle often did not know what decisions to make in his life, and he often made the wrong ones – with all the best intentions – but this situation left him shocked. He was so shocked, that Castle did not even have decisions to think of. All in all, he did not know what to do other than to introduce himself properly.

Castle's right hand left his jeans pocket, a movement that alarmed the sword-holding man in front of him. Immediately his left hand shot up in order to give the impression that he does not mean to harm the medieval man.

"I only want to introduce myself!"

Suddenly, another voice was heard. The voice belonged to someone walking down the stairs, and caused both men to turn their heads.

"Dad? What are you doing up this late?" A chuckle was heard before the same voice continued. "Has Beckett got you trying to write up paperwork again?"

The voice stopped when her eyes saw a figure holding a sword. Adrenaline made its way into her blood, although she did not know what to do with it. What could possibly stand a chance against a person with a sword? From where she was standing, the best chance she had of reacting to what was happening in front of her was to throw coats.

"Alexis?! What are you doing up this late? Never mind that. Just go upstairs and call Beckett!"

Just when Alexis wanted to turn around and head back upstairs, a sound was heard from the kitchen. Arthur immediately reacted to the sound and aimed his sword in its direction.

"What are you do– have you never heard that sound before?" A laugh escaped Castle's mouth and Alexis let out a sigh. Laughing about something someone holding a sword does not understand is not exactly the best way of handling the situation.

Alexis narrowed her eyes whilst observing the medieval looking man. "It is a device to warm things up. Like food," Alexis looked into her dad's direction. He had promised her a short while back that he would stay away from those awful microwave meals.

Disobeying what her dad had told her to do, she walked down the remaining steps of the stairs and headed into the kitchen. "I presume both of you are hungry? Well, I am too."

As Alexis was busy cooking both men and herself a decent late-night meal, the men went to the living room, where Castle tried to introduce himself again, once the man opposite him had lowered his sword.

"Richard Castle," Castle held out his hand for the medieval-looking man to shake.

"Arthur Pendragon," the medieval-looking man replied and gave Castle a firm handshake. "Castle? As in you own a castle? Is it this place?" Arthur said, full of questions. "It is a strange looking castle. I presume you have many other chambers except for…" Arthur made some strange hand movements, trying to understand whether or not what he could see were all the chambers the castle. "These?"

"Castle, no…–no this is no castle. It's just an apartment, nothing out of the ordinary. We have more rooms upstairs, but… that is all. I do have another house in the Hamptons."

"Hamptons? What are those?"

Castle was feeling more awkward by the minute. "It… is a place."

Arthur gave a nod as reply and knew that there was a lot to be learned from this place. "Hang on… did you say Arthur Pendragon?"

"Yes…" Arthur sounded hesitant, but he knew his sword was close by – in case of danger, he always had an iron blade to rely on. "Why?"

"Your tales and legends are… well… legendary!" From that point on, everything – well, most of what was happening – made sense to the writer. "By servant you meant Merlin, didn't you?"

"How do you know?"

"Again, your tales are legendary. I think everyone knows about them, it is impossible not to: the great sorcerer and Arthur Pendragon – next in line for the throne of Camelot. I used to read many of those tales – or adventures if you prefer – to Alexis when she was little. Amazing stories they were." Unaware of Arthur's face becoming paler and paler by the minute, Castle went on until Arthur interrupted him.

"The what?!"

Castle did not understand what Arthur was on about. His explanation of how he knew the name Merlin had gotten out of hand to say the least and he was rambling on – exciting about what he told, too – about the adventures, using them as bedtime stories and then about Alexis.

"You said sorcerer! Are you implying that Merlin is a sorcerer?" A laugh full of denial was to be heard in Castle's living room. "I like you, you are funny."

"I wasn't trying to be funny, it is the truth. Merlin is the greatest sorcerer to have walked the earth." If the man had not been so sincere, Arthur would not have believed him; he would have laughed and moved on with his life. Why dwell on lies?

It had been mentioned more than once that Merlin was a sorcerer, but all those times, the evidence was non-existent. No evidence meant that his servant was just a servant. It was not that Merlin was a very good servant, but rather a friend. At least he was someone Arthur did not wish to see hang.

"Explain yourself; where is the evidence that Merlin is a sorcerer?"

Castle immediately shot up from the couch and as he walked to his bookshelves, he realised that he might have made a mistake. This 'slip up' might cause the entire history to change.

In the early hours of the morning, someone had already woken up and let curiosity take the better of her. Morgana started exploring the room the moment she woke up in. A... living room, these people called it, if she heard correctly. She had no knowledge of this name, but she reckoned her people would call it private living-quarters.

Ignoring the private part of the word, Morgana did not stop looking around. The same cycle repeated itself over and over again: she would open a cupboard, look inside, realise it was all too unknown to her, and close the cupboard. The strange being — she looked far too much out of her own world in that modern gown, if one could even call it a gown — then moved onto the next cupboard that presented itself.

The sun had risen to a point it started to shine through the windows. Ah, windows. How one could marvel at such a transparent object. Morgana's long and pale fingers slid slowly, fully occupied with no particular thought, along the window. Oddly, this did not leave behind any stains.

Sunlight shone upon her, and Morgana admitted that these lights felt good upon her. It reminded her of home. She remembered staring out of the window too early in the morning. Hardly anyone had risen from their beds at this hour, only one mad man — an absolute fool. Arthur. What man, although she admitted, knights were a special breed, would willingly step out of his bed at this hour? Though, when he looked up and their eyes met, she realised that this might have made her no more of a fool than the man training in the courtyard.

One blink and the memory was gone. Morgana once more found herself in this truly bizarre world that she did not know. She was not quite certain if it knew her.

With closed eyes Morgana tried to enjoy the faded memory — for she was home, back where she belonged and knew everything — but her hands did not stop exploring. As her hands wandered further, she touched something cold, something metal. It was enough to open her eyes.

Morgana slightly tilted her head to one side. Are my eyes deceiving me? They could not be, for what she saw was real. What she saw, was in front of her. It was a sword. One that was taken care of, by the state of it, and one that did not look out of place amongst the many various other items that seemed to have come from all over the world. Carefully — not to harm the sword nor to make a sound — she lifted it from where it was standing, it's sheath appeared in near original state. Almost as if it was made just days ago.

One of her slender hands grabbed a firm hold of its leather grip, whilst her second hand held onto the leather sheath. Her head briefly turned just so she could take a quick look around her, make sure no one was watching or sneaking up on her. When she decided the coast was clear, she pulled off the sheath in one go.

Two blue-greenish eyes were sparkling as the sunlight shone upon the silver blade, making it a piece of gorgeous art to look at. Weaponry, it had always been her favourite, and it never left her heart. Slowly, she turned the blade and took notice of various engravings. Her fingertips slid over the marked blade whilst admiring who could have done created such a metal piece of beauty.

Taking two steps back, making sure she had enough empty space around her not to hit anything, Morgana lowered the sword. With quite the amount of determination, she practiced some of her usual sword-showing off techniques and ended by gracefully swinging it around. Morgana looked ready for battle — the sword, its blade lit by the sun, did not look bad either — but for an outsider, this must have looked... rather amusing and might be a cause for laughter. Which might explain the sound.

"Looks like one of us is ready to face the world..." Morgana heard from the other side of the quarters and immediately startled. She did not expect someone to sneak up on her like that.

"I nearly let go of this beautiful piece of weaponry!" No less than a thousandth of a second after she spoke, Morgana realised how rude and ungrateful this must have sounded to the woman giving her a roof. "I'm terribly sorry...I did not mean it like that, please forgive me. I-I got carried away with the sword and–"

"Still got the accent, then?" Beckett replied, holding onto her source of energy in a mug. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of this. Was this woman some lost — very, very lost — tourist? Was she one of those medieval nutters? Yeah, you're one to talk with your unlimited Richard Castle book collection. Beckett couldn't quite put her finger on this, but something was off. No matter what this was, however, she knew that getting close to the victim — but stay vigilant — would get her more intel than causing a rift.

"Nah, don't worry about the sword... do you like it?" Beckett made herself more comfortable on the couch before she spoke again.

"Very much, yes."

"I can't recall where I got it from...somewhere during a holiday, no doubt... Do you remember where you found it?"

"Ye–Yes!" Morgana was taken aback for a moment and caught herself thinking about the memory that had appeared in her mind. "The sword stood against the wall." Her long and slim index finger pointed towards the exact spot. "There."

Morgana could clearly see that the woman – who had so kindly let her stay in these chambers – had to think hard about the origins of the sword. "Strange... I can't recall where I got it from... must've been on holiday... probably."

After having shared her results, Beckett did not, however, stop thinking. Could it be that the past where this strange woman claims she's from, is connected to this 21st century one? "Oh god, I'm turning into Castle..." Beckett muttered.

Morgana's eyes became very large and wide. As she spoke, she carefully took a few steps back. "You–You what? Are you turning into a– a castle?!"

"Shit. No–no–no, relax!" Beckett quickly replied, although this response did get her brain to think. Who knows what this woman has been through in the past... she might have been from a land of myth and times of magic. Magic... Castle! He must know more about this!

The woman in front of Beckett slowly started to relax as Beckett explained that Castle was actually, in this case, a name. A friend. Someone who might know more. "I'll briefly give him a call..." Confusion once again covered Morgana's face. "Just... stay here? Maybe you can discover some more from the symbols on the blade?"

Morgana was still confused by the 'call' comment. Was this kind woman going to yell to this so-called Castle person? At least she had something else to worry over... the engravings. Why did they seem to be so familiar?

Beckett walked towards her bedroom to make the call – technology would be a good subject for another day. A day filled with lots of coffee and Castle's enthusiasm of a five-year-old. As soon as Beckett touched the screen on her phone to call Castle, she held the device to her ear and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Nothing.

It was very unlike Castle to not answer the call – even when they'd have a new case to dig into and it was the middle of the night, Castle's phone still managed to wake him up and ready to get to work on the scene of the crime. Beckett tried again – and again.

At the fourth time, the voice through the phone was not one Beckett was expecting. It was the voice of a woman who sounded desperate.

"Beckett?! Is that you?"

There were a lot of background noises, although Beckett couldn't instantly make out what was happening. It took a strong – and English – voice to make everything clear to her.

"LADY. Put down that… thing of magic, or I will destroy it. You will be no match against my sword and shield. Surrender the magic and you will live."

"Oh God," Alexis said, "I gotta go… I'm not sure if this wasn't already obvious, but can you come down here? We have a bit of a… situation."

"I'm on my way."

Not entirely sure if Alexis had been able to hear her reply, Beckett let out a sigh as she put her phone away again. She knew that she couldn't let Morgana alone in her apartment – what would she return to once the whole ordeal at Castle's apartment had been solved? Presumably everything would be smashed to pieces with the sword Morgana had found.

There was no other option but to take Morgana with her to see what was going on at Castle's place. Did she have any time? Morgana was, after all, still in pyjamas.

Beckett returned to her living room and found Morgana on the couch, studying the engravings on the blade of the sword very carefully. "Have you ever heard of showers?"

Morgana answered very carefully, not sure if not knowing would make her incompetent or whatnot. She seemed to not know an awful lot. How a world could change. "No…?"

"Well, you will now."

Aaaaaaahhhh I am so sorry for being MIA for so very long! I have been very busy with uni and life and everything has just been so busy that I had to be properly ill in order to write this chapter for all of you.

I hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter – do not hesitate to leave behind a review – and hopefully we will be seeing each other soon in chapter 5!
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