Fic: How Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Met King Arthur of Camelot (Part 2)
(Post got too long! :) Sorry about that!)
Sherlock didn’t waste another second and immediately started walking towards the doors again, but John felt rooted to the spot. He was watching the king, who had turned in his chair and was now looking at Merlin with a glare that was really no less frightening than the one he had been fixating Sherlock and John with earlier on. Merlin, for his part, looked like death warmed over.
‘Meeerlin,’ Arthur said in a voice that seemed to promise pain. Or lots of polishing duty. ‘Is there something you’ve been neglecting to tell me?’
John winced at the panicked look on Merlin’s face, but Sherlock was nearly out the door already and gesturing impatiently for him to follow.
‘But - Sherlock-,’ he protested, glancing back at Merlin and Arthur. He felt guilty, just leaving the young man behind after Sherlock had dropped this huge bombshell, as he was very aware of the price people had to pay for being associated with magic in this kingdom. Sherlock, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all concerned with this, the tosser, and just gave another impatient nod in the direction of the door.
Well tough luck there, John thought. Right now, I’m not going to do your bidding for anything less serious than a national crisis. And he planted his feet firmly upon the stone floor to make his point.
Finally Sherlock’s already thin patience seemed to snap. Before John fully realised what was happening, he had walked back, grabbed his friend by the sleeve and just tugged - and John suddenly found himself being dragged past rows upon rows of stunned faces, who clearly had no idea where to look anymore: to the mad genius, who had just changed the way their kingdom was run forever, and was now dragging his companion from the room like a security blanket, or to the drama that was bound to unfold between their king and his servant any second now. How nice it would be, John thought, to be part of that crowd. Even if their lives must get dull at some point, at least they didn’t have to worry about keeping sociopathic geniuses, who were constantly on the verge of causing severe political upheavals, in check.
‘What - no - Sherlock, let me go, damn it-!’
John tried to struggle against Sherlock’s iron-like grip on his sleeve, but it was to no avail. Every time he nearly succeeded in breaking free, his friend managed to adjust his grip, and they were well past the heavy oaken doors, when he finally released him.
He immediately took a few steps away from Sherlock once he had regained total control of his body.
‘Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself,’ he spat. He could not remember ever being more disappointed in Sherlock than right at this moment. ‘You do know that you’ve just sentenced that poor man to death!’
But rather than looking a bit contrite, for John’s sake at least, Sherlock just rolled his eyes to his friend’s ever-mounting fury. ‘Oh please, John. It is rather charming you playing the hero and all, but please do stop it. There’s no need.’
John just about exploded. ‘Me?! Playing the hero? Do you even hear your-,’ he stopped in the middle of his tirade, his brain catching up with his ears. ‘What do you mean, ‘there’s no need’? Of course there is! Merlin’s going to be burnt at the stake because of what you said!’
‘Hm … wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ Sherlock almost hummed and turned to walk down the corridor, but now it was John who reached out and grabbed him by the sleeve.
‘Noooo, not this time,’ he said firmly. ‘You don’t get to do your mysterious walking away bit this time around. Tell me why that young man won’t be executed or I’ll rush back in there right now.’
If nothing else, this seemed to convince Sherlock to spill the beans to John.
‘He won’t be executed,’ he said slowly, though with a bit of a triumphant gleam in his eyes, ‘because Arthur already knows that he is a sorcerer.’
All John could do for the next couple of seconds was stare at his friend, trying to match up his words with what had passed in the council chamber a few moments before. He shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, didn’t you hear him in there? And his face - he looked positively murderous right then!’
‘A combination of good acting and the anger he was still feeling towards us. He had to pretend to be angry, because otherwise all these people in the room, including Merlin, would have found out that he already knew.’
‘But why would he need to keep everyone in the dark about this? Why wouldn’t he just declare magic to be legal, if he’s comfortable with having a servant sorcerer?’ John asked, still not entirely convinced.
‘Well, I suspect that decriminalising it was his ultimate goal, but consider, John: magic has been outlawed in this kingdom for more than twenty years by now. There is bound to be tension once it is reintroduced. I imagine that he was already working on a strategy how to best break it to the people and still ensure the continued peace in the land, but was just feeling hesitant about setting it into motion. I may have taken care of that now,’ Sherlock explained with a rather smug smile on his face.
But there was still something that John didn’t quite understand. ‘Okay, but how in the world do you know all this, Sherlock? We didn’t spend more than ten minutes with Merlin yesterday and he hardly talked at all today. I certainly didn’t see him perform any spells or anything of the sort.’
Annoyingly, Sherlock threw John one of those looks that even in its most favourable interpretation could only be translated to ‘Isn’t it obvious?’, before he said, ‘Oh John, you did see. Don’t you remember when he entered the room and nearly knocked that girl over? You didn’t really believe that she managed to hold onto that tray AND remain standing purely due to her dexterity, did you?’
They were walking down the corridor now, John quietly and sullenly grumbling to himself and letting Sherlock take the lead. As his friend had in all likelihood memorised the entire construction plan of the castle already he figured that the quickest way to get out of it was to follow after him. At least that way he would actually get to take a closer look at the castle without having to worry were his feet were taking him.
After a while though, when he felt sure that they should have passed out into the courtyard ages ago already, he turned towards his friend and carefully said, ‘Sherlock … I don’t mean to doubt your sense of direction but,’ he hesitated, ‘… you’re not lost, are you?’
Sherlock gave him a look which was at once confused and offended. ‘Of course not,’ he said indignantly, ‘John, what-’
Before he could finish though, John suddenly became aware of the heavy footsteps of at least ten men coming towards them at a hurried pace. He grabbed Sherlock by the arm and proceeded to pull him into an empty niche, which earned him an exasperated eye-roll from his friend. John returned it with a glare. There was absolutely nothing wrong with taking a few precautions after just having seriously offended the master of not only the building but also the entire country one was currently in. Who was to say that Arthur hadn’t suddenly changed his mind and was going to throw them in the dungeons after all?
As the footsteps were approaching their hideout, John was gradually able to discern two voices that were having a hurried whispered conversation over the general noise of clinking chainmail and tanned leather hitting the stone floor at regular intervals.
‘But see, what I don’t get is - we’re supposed to arrest Lord Agravaine? Like, genuinely put shackles on him, lead him to a cell, that sort of thing?’
‘Yes, Eadwyn,’ a long-suffering, elderly voice said in reply, ‘that is an excellent definition of what is generally meant when you’ve been ordered to arrest someone. Well done.’
The guards (and surely they were guards, John was able to deduce that much, thank you very much) were drawing level with them now and John got a brief look at the two men who were speaking. They were a bit of an odd pair, one of them still very young, with spots covering his face, and the other old enough John was actually surprised that he was still on active duty.
‘But … Lord Agravaine is the King’s uncle!’ Eadwyn was currently protesting.
‘Yeees,’ the elderly man said, ‘And that means what precisely? The Lady Morgana was his sister, right? Didn’t stop her from betraying him either.’
‘Blimey, that family’s harsh,’ Eadwyn said, somewhat in awe. ‘You wouldn’t find feuds like that where I come from. Though, come to think of it there was this one time when Aunt Martha-’
‘Shut up, Eadwyn.’
As their voices faded away, John gradually let himself relax his posture and he stepped away from Sherlock. ‘They’re going to arrest Agravaine,’ he said, feeling slightly stunned. ‘No word about Merlin though. I think you were right.’
Sherlock rolled his eyes once more and pulled a face which seemed to say ‘Well, duh’, although such words would of course never actually leave his mouth.
With a far lighter heart, John made to step out into the corridor again, only to jump straight back into the niche (and therefore into Sherlock, who had been following closely behind him) when he heard two very familiar voices coming towards them from the direction of the council chamber. It was Arthur and Merlin.
At his friend’s indignant protestations of ‘John, will you stop-’ he clapped a hand over his mouth and raised a finger to his own lips, urging Sherlock to be silent. Judging by their agitated voices, Arthur and Merlin were pretty much wrapped into their own world right now, but still there was no harm in trying to reduce the risk of their discovery as much as possible.
‘Arthur, wait!’ Merlin was pleading rather desperately, ‘What does that mean? Why didn’t you-’
‘Merlin. Not. Now!’ Arthur interrupted him, his voice so pained it sounded close to breaking point. ‘This can WAIT!’
Merlin, however, didn’t agree.
‘Please, Arthur,’ he begged. ‘Please, I … I need to know. You can’t- I won’t run away, I promise, but … if you’re just going to have me arrested later, I’d rather know now than-’
There was a stomp that echoed down the corridor, followed by the sound of rustling clothing and a startled inhale as someone was grabbed.
‘Arrest you? Arrest you?! Merlin, in WHAT UNIVERSE would someone pass over arresting a criminal, a sorcerer no less, when they could do it right then?’ Arthur shouted. ‘What, did you think that I’d leave it for later, as a special treat? Let you escape so that I can hunt you down in the off season when game is scarce and I’m feeling bored? ‘Hey, Leon, let’s go and see if we can catch us a Merlin today-’’
‘Of course not,’ Merlin spat angrily, his voice slightly unsteady as though he was being shaken. ‘But what the hell am I supposed to think?! You glare at me, you shout abuse in front of the entire court and then just rush off without saying another word! That’s not exactly what I would call a promising outlook for my future!’
‘Merlin, I just had to arrest my uncle, who I’ve placed absolute trust in for the last SIX MONTHS! Can’t you see how this might make me feel just a little bit overwhelmed and incapable of dealing with anything else right now?! Servant turned sorcerers included?’
Merlin’s voice audibly softened. ‘Yes, and I understand that, Arthur,’ he said in a placating tone. ‘But … I’m really sorry, but what I don’t understand is that the same holds true for me, in a way, and the only explanation I can think of why you wouldn’t be equally upset about this is …’ His voice trailed off, as a thought seemed to have struck him.
‘’In a way’?’ Arthur said into the sudden silence, sounding almost defeated. ‘This only holds true for you ‘in a way’? No, Merlin … this is exactly the same. The same disappointment, the same-,’ his voice broke off abruptly, sounding almost choked.
‘You knew,’ Merlin breathed, and the two words were so quiet that John almost did not pick up on them at first. ‘You knew. And you still didn’t-? Wait, for how long have you-?’
‘NOT. NOW!’ Arthur repeated firmly, some of the fight returning to his voice in a brief upsurge. ‘Just … this really can wait now. Just leave me alone and let me think for a while. Please?’
And if the entire conversation hadn’t been shocking enough already, this last plea certainly managed to throw John for a bit. He had never heard of a king who placed this much value in a servant, even if they had known each other for years already. Even Lief, who had been King Saebert’s personal servant for well over a decade now certainly could not count on being trusted by his king like Merlin seemed to be - never mind the fact that Saebert would never allow himself to be seen in a weak moment like Arthur just did. Even if John did not have an implicit belief in Sherlock’s every deduction, this conversation would certainly have convinced him that all would be alright for Merlin and Arthur. True friendship could endure anything, the Moriartys and Uthers of this world be damned.
Silence followed Arthur’s plea for several excruciating seconds, before it was broken by the sound of the long strides of the King, as he made his way down the corridor. Merlin remained behind for a bit longer, before heading in the other direction at a slower pace.
This time, John decided to wait for a few minutes before he allowed Sherlock and himself to step out of their hiding place. At Sherlock’s raised eyebrow he rolled his eyes and sighed, giving in to the inevitable.
‘Alright, fine,’ he said reluctantly. ‘As inappropriate as I think this is after the display we just witnessed: You were right. On all accounts.’
The smug smile that spread over Sherlock’s face in response to that was really even more inappropriate, but John chose to ignore it for now. Instead, he took a good look around the place they were standing in and, coming to the conclusion that he really had no idea where he was (although to be fair those castle corridors all did look the same to him) he said, ‘Sherlock … you’re absolutely sure you know where we are? Only … I don’t recognise anything around here.’
‘Well, of course you don’t,’ Sherlock said in an irritated voice. ‘Seeing as you have never been here before.’
‘What?!’ John shouted and then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. He still felt no particular need to attract the attention of the guards after so narrowly escaping imprisonment. ‘But … Sherlock, I thought you were leading us out of here?’
‘And I am. However, it seemed a bit dull to walk the same way as when we entered the castle, so I chose to take a few different turns to make things a tad more exciting. What’s that dreadful saying you like to use so often? Something about Rome and roads?’ He seemed to think about it for a bit, but quickly lost interest. ‘No matter. Anyway, since I am no local, I cannot guarantee of course that we won’t get lost along the way, so if we were to just happen to stumble into somewhere interesting - say the throne room or the chapel - who could blame us, really? What do you think, John?’ he asked with an affectionate smile.
Completely baffled, John could only stare, silently wondering how Sherlock had managed to deduce his thoughts this time. Sometimes it was hard to believe that his friend had not developed the ability to read minds on top of his so-called powers of deduction.
Giving up on waiting for an answer, Sherlock turned around. ‘Actually, I think the kitchen might just be down those stairs and I am feeling quite ravenous.’ And he promptly walked over to the staircase he had pointed at.
John remained where he was for a couple of seconds more, before he hurried after Sherlock, a slow smile spreading across his face. There was no doubt that being Sherlock Holmes’s friend was often a tiresome and stressful affair, and that he got John into trouble far more often than should be considered normal by anyone’s standards. But it was equally true that if you were prepared to look past all that and accept the man for who he was, he would be the best, wisest and most faithful friend anyone could imagine. And John never wanted to be without him again.
Sherlock didn’t waste another second and immediately started walking towards the doors again, but John felt rooted to the spot. He was watching the king, who had turned in his chair and was now looking at Merlin with a glare that was really no less frightening than the one he had been fixating Sherlock and John with earlier on. Merlin, for his part, looked like death warmed over.
‘Meeerlin,’ Arthur said in a voice that seemed to promise pain. Or lots of polishing duty. ‘Is there something you’ve been neglecting to tell me?’
John winced at the panicked look on Merlin’s face, but Sherlock was nearly out the door already and gesturing impatiently for him to follow.
‘But - Sherlock-,’ he protested, glancing back at Merlin and Arthur. He felt guilty, just leaving the young man behind after Sherlock had dropped this huge bombshell, as he was very aware of the price people had to pay for being associated with magic in this kingdom. Sherlock, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all concerned with this, the tosser, and just gave another impatient nod in the direction of the door.
Well tough luck there, John thought. Right now, I’m not going to do your bidding for anything less serious than a national crisis. And he planted his feet firmly upon the stone floor to make his point.
Finally Sherlock’s already thin patience seemed to snap. Before John fully realised what was happening, he had walked back, grabbed his friend by the sleeve and just tugged - and John suddenly found himself being dragged past rows upon rows of stunned faces, who clearly had no idea where to look anymore: to the mad genius, who had just changed the way their kingdom was run forever, and was now dragging his companion from the room like a security blanket, or to the drama that was bound to unfold between their king and his servant any second now. How nice it would be, John thought, to be part of that crowd. Even if their lives must get dull at some point, at least they didn’t have to worry about keeping sociopathic geniuses, who were constantly on the verge of causing severe political upheavals, in check.
‘What - no - Sherlock, let me go, damn it-!’
John tried to struggle against Sherlock’s iron-like grip on his sleeve, but it was to no avail. Every time he nearly succeeded in breaking free, his friend managed to adjust his grip, and they were well past the heavy oaken doors, when he finally released him.
He immediately took a few steps away from Sherlock once he had regained total control of his body.
‘Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself,’ he spat. He could not remember ever being more disappointed in Sherlock than right at this moment. ‘You do know that you’ve just sentenced that poor man to death!’
But rather than looking a bit contrite, for John’s sake at least, Sherlock just rolled his eyes to his friend’s ever-mounting fury. ‘Oh please, John. It is rather charming you playing the hero and all, but please do stop it. There’s no need.’
John just about exploded. ‘Me?! Playing the hero? Do you even hear your-,’ he stopped in the middle of his tirade, his brain catching up with his ears. ‘What do you mean, ‘there’s no need’? Of course there is! Merlin’s going to be burnt at the stake because of what you said!’
‘Hm … wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ Sherlock almost hummed and turned to walk down the corridor, but now it was John who reached out and grabbed him by the sleeve.
‘Noooo, not this time,’ he said firmly. ‘You don’t get to do your mysterious walking away bit this time around. Tell me why that young man won’t be executed or I’ll rush back in there right now.’
If nothing else, this seemed to convince Sherlock to spill the beans to John.
‘He won’t be executed,’ he said slowly, though with a bit of a triumphant gleam in his eyes, ‘because Arthur already knows that he is a sorcerer.’
All John could do for the next couple of seconds was stare at his friend, trying to match up his words with what had passed in the council chamber a few moments before. He shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, didn’t you hear him in there? And his face - he looked positively murderous right then!’
‘A combination of good acting and the anger he was still feeling towards us. He had to pretend to be angry, because otherwise all these people in the room, including Merlin, would have found out that he already knew.’
‘But why would he need to keep everyone in the dark about this? Why wouldn’t he just declare magic to be legal, if he’s comfortable with having a servant sorcerer?’ John asked, still not entirely convinced.
‘Well, I suspect that decriminalising it was his ultimate goal, but consider, John: magic has been outlawed in this kingdom for more than twenty years by now. There is bound to be tension once it is reintroduced. I imagine that he was already working on a strategy how to best break it to the people and still ensure the continued peace in the land, but was just feeling hesitant about setting it into motion. I may have taken care of that now,’ Sherlock explained with a rather smug smile on his face.
But there was still something that John didn’t quite understand. ‘Okay, but how in the world do you know all this, Sherlock? We didn’t spend more than ten minutes with Merlin yesterday and he hardly talked at all today. I certainly didn’t see him perform any spells or anything of the sort.’
Annoyingly, Sherlock threw John one of those looks that even in its most favourable interpretation could only be translated to ‘Isn’t it obvious?’, before he said, ‘Oh John, you did see. Don’t you remember when he entered the room and nearly knocked that girl over? You didn’t really believe that she managed to hold onto that tray AND remain standing purely due to her dexterity, did you?’
They were walking down the corridor now, John quietly and sullenly grumbling to himself and letting Sherlock take the lead. As his friend had in all likelihood memorised the entire construction plan of the castle already he figured that the quickest way to get out of it was to follow after him. At least that way he would actually get to take a closer look at the castle without having to worry were his feet were taking him.
After a while though, when he felt sure that they should have passed out into the courtyard ages ago already, he turned towards his friend and carefully said, ‘Sherlock … I don’t mean to doubt your sense of direction but,’ he hesitated, ‘… you’re not lost, are you?’
Sherlock gave him a look which was at once confused and offended. ‘Of course not,’ he said indignantly, ‘John, what-’
Before he could finish though, John suddenly became aware of the heavy footsteps of at least ten men coming towards them at a hurried pace. He grabbed Sherlock by the arm and proceeded to pull him into an empty niche, which earned him an exasperated eye-roll from his friend. John returned it with a glare. There was absolutely nothing wrong with taking a few precautions after just having seriously offended the master of not only the building but also the entire country one was currently in. Who was to say that Arthur hadn’t suddenly changed his mind and was going to throw them in the dungeons after all?
As the footsteps were approaching their hideout, John was gradually able to discern two voices that were having a hurried whispered conversation over the general noise of clinking chainmail and tanned leather hitting the stone floor at regular intervals.
‘But see, what I don’t get is - we’re supposed to arrest Lord Agravaine? Like, genuinely put shackles on him, lead him to a cell, that sort of thing?’
‘Yes, Eadwyn,’ a long-suffering, elderly voice said in reply, ‘that is an excellent definition of what is generally meant when you’ve been ordered to arrest someone. Well done.’
The guards (and surely they were guards, John was able to deduce that much, thank you very much) were drawing level with them now and John got a brief look at the two men who were speaking. They were a bit of an odd pair, one of them still very young, with spots covering his face, and the other old enough John was actually surprised that he was still on active duty.
‘But … Lord Agravaine is the King’s uncle!’ Eadwyn was currently protesting.
‘Yeees,’ the elderly man said, ‘And that means what precisely? The Lady Morgana was his sister, right? Didn’t stop her from betraying him either.’
‘Blimey, that family’s harsh,’ Eadwyn said, somewhat in awe. ‘You wouldn’t find feuds like that where I come from. Though, come to think of it there was this one time when Aunt Martha-’
‘Shut up, Eadwyn.’
As their voices faded away, John gradually let himself relax his posture and he stepped away from Sherlock. ‘They’re going to arrest Agravaine,’ he said, feeling slightly stunned. ‘No word about Merlin though. I think you were right.’
Sherlock rolled his eyes once more and pulled a face which seemed to say ‘Well, duh’, although such words would of course never actually leave his mouth.
With a far lighter heart, John made to step out into the corridor again, only to jump straight back into the niche (and therefore into Sherlock, who had been following closely behind him) when he heard two very familiar voices coming towards them from the direction of the council chamber. It was Arthur and Merlin.
At his friend’s indignant protestations of ‘John, will you stop-’ he clapped a hand over his mouth and raised a finger to his own lips, urging Sherlock to be silent. Judging by their agitated voices, Arthur and Merlin were pretty much wrapped into their own world right now, but still there was no harm in trying to reduce the risk of their discovery as much as possible.
‘Arthur, wait!’ Merlin was pleading rather desperately, ‘What does that mean? Why didn’t you-’
‘Merlin. Not. Now!’ Arthur interrupted him, his voice so pained it sounded close to breaking point. ‘This can WAIT!’
Merlin, however, didn’t agree.
‘Please, Arthur,’ he begged. ‘Please, I … I need to know. You can’t- I won’t run away, I promise, but … if you’re just going to have me arrested later, I’d rather know now than-’
There was a stomp that echoed down the corridor, followed by the sound of rustling clothing and a startled inhale as someone was grabbed.
‘Arrest you? Arrest you?! Merlin, in WHAT UNIVERSE would someone pass over arresting a criminal, a sorcerer no less, when they could do it right then?’ Arthur shouted. ‘What, did you think that I’d leave it for later, as a special treat? Let you escape so that I can hunt you down in the off season when game is scarce and I’m feeling bored? ‘Hey, Leon, let’s go and see if we can catch us a Merlin today-’’
‘Of course not,’ Merlin spat angrily, his voice slightly unsteady as though he was being shaken. ‘But what the hell am I supposed to think?! You glare at me, you shout abuse in front of the entire court and then just rush off without saying another word! That’s not exactly what I would call a promising outlook for my future!’
‘Merlin, I just had to arrest my uncle, who I’ve placed absolute trust in for the last SIX MONTHS! Can’t you see how this might make me feel just a little bit overwhelmed and incapable of dealing with anything else right now?! Servant turned sorcerers included?’
Merlin’s voice audibly softened. ‘Yes, and I understand that, Arthur,’ he said in a placating tone. ‘But … I’m really sorry, but what I don’t understand is that the same holds true for me, in a way, and the only explanation I can think of why you wouldn’t be equally upset about this is …’ His voice trailed off, as a thought seemed to have struck him.
‘’In a way’?’ Arthur said into the sudden silence, sounding almost defeated. ‘This only holds true for you ‘in a way’? No, Merlin … this is exactly the same. The same disappointment, the same-,’ his voice broke off abruptly, sounding almost choked.
‘You knew,’ Merlin breathed, and the two words were so quiet that John almost did not pick up on them at first. ‘You knew. And you still didn’t-? Wait, for how long have you-?’
‘NOT. NOW!’ Arthur repeated firmly, some of the fight returning to his voice in a brief upsurge. ‘Just … this really can wait now. Just leave me alone and let me think for a while. Please?’
And if the entire conversation hadn’t been shocking enough already, this last plea certainly managed to throw John for a bit. He had never heard of a king who placed this much value in a servant, even if they had known each other for years already. Even Lief, who had been King Saebert’s personal servant for well over a decade now certainly could not count on being trusted by his king like Merlin seemed to be - never mind the fact that Saebert would never allow himself to be seen in a weak moment like Arthur just did. Even if John did not have an implicit belief in Sherlock’s every deduction, this conversation would certainly have convinced him that all would be alright for Merlin and Arthur. True friendship could endure anything, the Moriartys and Uthers of this world be damned.
Silence followed Arthur’s plea for several excruciating seconds, before it was broken by the sound of the long strides of the King, as he made his way down the corridor. Merlin remained behind for a bit longer, before heading in the other direction at a slower pace.
This time, John decided to wait for a few minutes before he allowed Sherlock and himself to step out of their hiding place. At Sherlock’s raised eyebrow he rolled his eyes and sighed, giving in to the inevitable.
‘Alright, fine,’ he said reluctantly. ‘As inappropriate as I think this is after the display we just witnessed: You were right. On all accounts.’
The smug smile that spread over Sherlock’s face in response to that was really even more inappropriate, but John chose to ignore it for now. Instead, he took a good look around the place they were standing in and, coming to the conclusion that he really had no idea where he was (although to be fair those castle corridors all did look the same to him) he said, ‘Sherlock … you’re absolutely sure you know where we are? Only … I don’t recognise anything around here.’
‘Well, of course you don’t,’ Sherlock said in an irritated voice. ‘Seeing as you have never been here before.’
‘What?!’ John shouted and then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. He still felt no particular need to attract the attention of the guards after so narrowly escaping imprisonment. ‘But … Sherlock, I thought you were leading us out of here?’
‘And I am. However, it seemed a bit dull to walk the same way as when we entered the castle, so I chose to take a few different turns to make things a tad more exciting. What’s that dreadful saying you like to use so often? Something about Rome and roads?’ He seemed to think about it for a bit, but quickly lost interest. ‘No matter. Anyway, since I am no local, I cannot guarantee of course that we won’t get lost along the way, so if we were to just happen to stumble into somewhere interesting - say the throne room or the chapel - who could blame us, really? What do you think, John?’ he asked with an affectionate smile.
Completely baffled, John could only stare, silently wondering how Sherlock had managed to deduce his thoughts this time. Sometimes it was hard to believe that his friend had not developed the ability to read minds on top of his so-called powers of deduction.
Giving up on waiting for an answer, Sherlock turned around. ‘Actually, I think the kitchen might just be down those stairs and I am feeling quite ravenous.’ And he promptly walked over to the staircase he had pointed at.
John remained where he was for a couple of seconds more, before he hurried after Sherlock, a slow smile spreading across his face. There was no doubt that being Sherlock Holmes’s friend was often a tiresome and stressful affair, and that he got John into trouble far more often than should be considered normal by anyone’s standards. But it was equally true that if you were prepared to look past all that and accept the man for who he was, he would be the best, wisest and most faithful friend anyone could imagine. And John never wanted to be without him again.