Not What We Thought

Chapter 2: When Life Gives You Huts

 "...bloody hell."

"...that about sums it up."

The group stood before what they guessed to be a town of some sort. Only, this town was nothing like the ones they knew. This town was filled with harsh noises, hurrying people dressed in all sorts of bewildering and odd clothing, impossibly fast horse-less carriages, towering clear buildings of glass, a rainbow of colours, and roads paved with solid rock. Arthur let out a most unmanly squeak when one of the carriages roared past them and splattered them with muddy water.

"I don't know what I expected," Lancelot said faintly. "But it most certainly wasn't this."

"What do we do, sire?" Leon asked, somewhat desperately.

Arthur didn't know how to answer that.

"Hey!" Gwaine called, trotting away from the group despite the other knights hissed calls. "Hey you! Yeah, you in the obnoxiously bright green jacket!" A middle aged man walking along a raised section of stone pointed to himself dubiously. "Yes, you! Now, where exactly are we?"

The man eyed Gwaine with bland distrust, but said; "London. What are you, an idiot?"

"Quite likely," Gwaine said briskly. "Now, when are we?"

The man squinted at Gwaine. "You're drunk, aren't you."

"Ah, I wish."

"...its 2021."

"London, 2021, great! One last question. We're looking for a friend of ours, goes by Merlin, heard of him by any chance?"

The man glanced once again at Gwaine's knightly attire, and then at the rest of the party, and his expression shifted from one of wariness to one of distaste. "'Merlin'." He mocked. "You're a bloody LARP group. Look, just leave me alone, okay?" He grumbled. "I don't want to be a part of your bloody band."

"You got me," Gwaine bluffed. "We're larpers, alright. Now tell me, have you seen Merlin?"

The man glared at Gwaine and rolled his eyes. "I haven't heard of a Merlin, at least not since—"

"Since when?" Gwaine jumped on the opportunity.

"There was an old guy, bit of a wacko if you ask me, who used to live up in a cabin by lake Avalon about six or seven years ago. Kept to himself mostly, only ever saw 'im when he came into town to pick up food every month or two. Weird stuff always seemed to happen around him...there were rumours he was a wizard or something of the sort. Then one day, poof! He just disappeared. No ones seen him since. Some of the locals say a spell of his went wrong and he got himself killed...of course—" the man shifted to a more normal tone of voice. "—no one actually believes it. Seems like just the sort of thing you people would be interested in, however." He eyed them and their medieval attire in barely disguised contempt.

"You've been very helpful," Gwaine declared. He opened up a small pouch hanging from his belt and withdrew a couple shillings, handing them to the man. "A little compensation for your troubles."

The man rolled his eyes again, and stuffed the coins into his pocket carelessly. "Fat load a good these'll do," He grumbled, and quickly continued his way along the side of the road before Gwaine could cajole him into answering more questions.

"And that," the man in question said smugly. "Is how you do it."

"Do what exactly?" Arthur asked scathingly.

"...I don't exactly know," Gwaine admitted with a grin. "But I know I did it amazingly!"

Arthur snorted.