The Witch
It was, as seemed fitting, a classic dark and stormy night.
Not that anyone inside the city boundary could tell, as here everything was meticulously controlled to always be pleasant.
But Lancelot had gone home to collect his meager belongings and gotten absolutely soaked on his way back into the city.
Everyone who had to work outside, or near enough, would be absolutely miserable right now.
But there was no rest unless the storm conditions grew severe enough, because the people safe inside the protective dome must have their comforts and indulgences.
"What happened to you?" Merlin asked as Lancelot stepped inside, absently hitting the button to close and lock the door. "Got your bedroom all set up, ordered you some additional clothes and all of that. Go shower and change. Dinner will be ready by the time you're warm and dry."
"Thanks," Lancelot said. "I thought I was going to freeze to death before I got here. Am I the last to arrive?"
"No, the first actually. Dred messaged to say they'd be late, something about helping clean up a small disaster caused by the storm. Wouldn't elaborate." He shrugged. "Morgan won't be home for another hour or so."
"Huh. All right, I'll go get civilized again and be back down."
"Turn right at the top of the stairs, fourth door on the left."
"Your house is ridiculous."
Merlin grinned fleetingly before vanishing into the kitchen.
Upstairs, Lancelot found his room easily, and very nearly cried to see all the space.
All the furniture, stuff that was completely luxurious, like having a closet and a dresser, an entire entertainment center just for watching and listening.
Multiple lamps. Soft, plush rugs beneath his feet, and gleaming, actual real hardwood floors.
Windows, including one with a bench so he could just sit and stare out and do nothing else.
Bookshelves waiting to be filled. He'd never been able to afford a real book in his life.
On one wall, surrounded by pictures and other ornamental items, were special hooks.
Smiling, Lancelot went and placed his sword, stepping back to admire it.
All that was missing was an armor stand, but hopefully he wouldn't be needing armor here in reality.
If his sword went with him in and out of the game, though, it was likely the fighting would spread here eventually.
Problem for another day.
Where was he supposed to shower? Merlin hadn't given him directions to a bathroom, so it must be here.
Or had Merlin just assumed he'd find it?
Going across the room to a door he hadn't opened, assuming it was another closet, he found instead a bathroom as big as his apartment bedroom.
There wasn't just a shower stall either, but an entire bathtub.
He'd never seen those outside of media. The cost to fill it would be astronomical.
Most people weren't even allowed to take baths.
People paid good money for the equipment needed to enjoy virtual baths, for the love of god.
Stripping down, Lancelot tossed his clothes down a laundry chute before turning on the water in the shower, which took a few minutes of messing around with the fancy display.
Eventually, though, he stepped into lightly scented hot water and billowing steam, so wonderfully luxurious he didn't know what to do with himself.
And there was no limit. He could stay here as long as he pleased. Funny that once upon a time, Lancelot had been able to enjoy as much water as he pleased, but never thought much of it, and now the very idea of it blew his mind.
Shaking his head at himself, Lancelot set to scrubbing and cleaning, then turned off the water and activated the dry setting before finally stepping out and going in search of the new clothes Merlin had mentioned.
He'd thought Merlin meant like a couple of shirts and a few pairs of pants or something…
but Merlin never did anything by half, not in any life, so of course his closet and bureau were stuffed full of all the clothes Lancelot could ever need for the next ten lifetimes.
Shaking his head, huffing a laugh, he pulled on wickedly soft lounge clothes and finally headed downstairs.
Merlin was at the stove when he reached the kitchen, though it didn't seem like he was much needed as the entire kitchen was automated. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, hey, like the clothes? I like to watch, I find it soothing. Nothing at all like the hot, sweaty kitchens from back in the day, huh?"
Those ovens had been big enough to walk around in, made to roast various types of meat at the same time, while also cooking bread and pies and more. The castle had three of them, though most of the time they only used one or two, depending on the time of year.
"The clothes are great. Thanks for all the stuff. What's for dinner?"
"Roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, southern style green beans, biscuits, and there's a chocolate cake for dessert.
" Merlin picked up a bottle of wine that was resting open on the kitchen island and carried it over along with two glasses.
He poured them each a glass, and clinked his against Lance's. "Drink up."
"Jesus, Mary, and all the saints." Lancelot shook his head. "I thought being able to grab dinner at the food carts was living large. Now I'm eating roasted chicken and drinking fancy wine." It was a beautiful red color, like actually jewel red, not the purply red he thought red wines tended to be.
Merlin grinned wryly. "Come a long way from wandering around forests out of our damned minds."
"Fight's not over yet," Lancelot muttered. "I still remember helping out the kitchens from time to time by slaughtering livestock for them. Chickens. Pigs. Cows. A few peacocks, though those were not my favorite eating."
Merlin wrinkled his nose. "Nor mine. Did like swan though.
" The oven, cooking center, whatever it was called, gave a series of soft chimes, and the top opened to present the finished meal.
Merlin dished them and brought their plates over to the bar where Lancelot was sitting.
The rest of the food vanished again, presumably to keep warm until the others arrived.
Lancelot had just taken a bite of the best chicken he'd ever tasted—not that he'd tasted chicken much in his life, well this life—when the front door rang.
"Must be Dred. Be right back."
Sure enough, he returned just moments later with Dred trailing behind.
Lancelot laughed in sympathy. "You look as miserable as I did when I showed up. Everything okay?"
"Rain flooded out some of the lower level homes, and took out an entire day's worth of harvested mushrooms. Tried to retrieve all I could, so we wouldn't be punished too severely." They shrugged.
Lancelot held out his glass of wine, which Dred took gratefully and drank faster than was probably intended for wine. Then again, Lancelot knew fuck all about wine, only what he'd gleaned about it from various games and other media.
"Up the stairs, turn right, second door on the right.
Everything you need will be waiting for you.
Come back down when you're ready. Dinner will be waiting.
Now we just need Morgan to get home." Merlin sighed.
"Hopefully she doesn't work all night to slither out of agreeing to play.
If so, I really don't know how the fuck we're going to get her. "
Dred grinned. "If Morgan did anything the easy way, you wouldn't like her nearly as much."
Merlin grinned as he fetched a third wine glass that he filled for Lancelot before refilling the one Dred held. "Get on with you, before you get any more water and mud on my floors."
Snickering, Dred lifted the glass of wine in the air as they walked off. Just seconds after their departure, a cleaning robot came out of its nook in the hallway and set to work cleaning up the mess left behind.
Lancelot returned to his meal, eating it in slow, savoring bites, no matter how badly he wanted to wolf it all down like it might escape if he didn't. Merlin was just dishing up seconds for him when Dred returned, long hair still slightly damp, coiled and pinned up out of the way.
They slid into the seat on the opposite side of Lance, clapping their hands as a plate near-overflowing with food was set in front of them.
"So when is your stepsister slash lover showing up? "
"Shut up. Soon, hopefully. I—" Merlin stopped and looked at his wrist, which was flashing with a soft red light. "Shit, that's her. Our house emergency line." He touched his wrist, and then his ear, spinning away and walking off, his voice sharp and urgent as it went out of hearing range.
"You think they got her?"
"Possibly," Dred said grimly. "We still don't know if they can recognize us in the day to day.
Given we look more or less as we did back then, we have to assume they'd know us on sight the same way we'd know them.
So maybe one of Maleagant's lackeys saw us when we were snooping earlier.
" Dred ate their food faster, clearing the plate in little to no time, and had gathered up all the dirty dishes just as Merlin returned. "So what's up?"
"She can't leave work. She asked them to show her how to play because 'her brother begged her to, and she wanted to have some knowledge beforehand,' and now they won't let her leave the game.
She was barely able to get a message to me, and part of it was cut off, so they found out what she was doing and cut the link. We need to get in there."
Lancelot pushed away from the bar and stood, heading immediately for the stairs, the others right behind him.
"She's going to be so pissed we had to come to her rescue," Dred said.