King Arthur’s gift

The tone rang twice before her cousin picked up.

"Hey, Cess. I'm back"

A relieved sigh greeted her on the line. Now that Cécile knew of her whereabouts, Frances always called before going, and right after getting back which was usually in a span of ten minutes. This, at least, settled her mind whenever she disappeared from earth's surface. In case she didn't make it, Cécile would relay her writings to her parents.

"So you didn't find him?"

Trust her cousin to go straight to the point. Frances swallowed, remembering the moment she had realised her mission did not take place in middle earth. She had been so engrossed in her rage, so rightfully despaired that she nearly threw herself from a cliff. She stayed for hours, prostrated under the falling snow, before voices shook her out of her catatonic state.

Bracing herself, Frances had eventually shaken her snow coated elvish cloak, and joined the group of travelling knights. Only to lose one of them in the end. The image of Tristan, coated with blood as he smiled at her before uttering his last breath would haunt her for years.

"Nope. I landed in the north of England … in all the exotic places of the world, I had to land in England in freaking winter!"

Frances' attempt at levity did not prevent her heart from churning painfully.

"Damn, you must have been freezing your ass. So … meet interesting people?"

Frances snorted. No doubt that Cécile would have a hard time believing it. Hell, she had a hard time as well, even if she landed right in the middle of the commotion, her eyes seeing, her hands touching the legend!

"Yeah. Quite. I think I met King Arthur, and Merlin, Lancelot, Gawain and all the knights of the round table."

A muffled cry came from the phone, a cry covering the absence she felt at not naming Tristan. Cécile was choking on her own saliva, caught in a coughing fit.

"No … cough cough … way! You're pulling … cough … my leg, aren't you?"

If only.

"Er… No. And honestly, it was the least the Valar could do to make up for the disappointment… I really thought I was going to go nuts when I realised it wasn't middle earth."

"Damn it! Damn it to hell, cousin! You've actually met King Arthur and … what was the time again? It's crazy, I wish I could have been there ‼!"

"Merlin as well. He's the hell of a magician."

And a former ascended being … but I can't tell you about it lest I breach the non-disclosure agreement papers from the US government.

Cécile's excitement nearly tore her ear off, but her point was valid. How many historians, on earth, would have killed to be in her place? One archeologist, in particular…

Frances grit her teeth; she could not tell Daniel Jackson anything, he would know something was amiss since she could not quote her sources. Trust him to know every single historian that had worked on the subject, and the title of every publication written in the span of two hundred years. Frances sighed, it sucked to not be able to share it, especially about Merlin. It confirmed many of Daniel's theories. She'd have to find a way to encourage him on this path without selling herself.

What a mess. I can't talk about the stargate to Cécile, and can't talk about the Keeper of time to my best friend in Stargate Command.

"Go on! Just tell me about it, and write all of it afterwards. I want to know everything…"

Needless to say, that Cécile, being a linguist as well, showered her with questions about the place, the time, the implications of the Roman empire leaving Scotland behind Adrian's wall, and the beginning of Camelot. Her enthusiasm was communicative, and for a while, Frances nearly forgot that she had NOT travelled to Arda … and that she had failed to save Tristan, the silent scout.

As she explained how she had taken a bolt for Lancelot in the great battle against the Saxons, the young woman came to a realisation. She had proved her worth to the Valar, showing them that she could, despite her current state, complete her missions. Showing them that she had chosen against her heart, to save Lancelot and let Tristan die albeit her feelings swayed the other way.

Getting back to school only fuelled her anger. No one remarked on her battered skin, nor the weight she had lost in the span of a day. Well, William might have mentioned it. This indifference added to the fact that she had spent a month travelling in medieval Scotland without any cars, technology, tap water or boring classes. The change was enough to make her snap.

Getting back to a stuffed, overheated room made her crazy and she spent the weekend hiking in the mountains to make the transition easier. A long-distance call to Daniel Jackson also helped a bit; hearing news of the SGC grounded her, especially since he always forgot to hold his tongue and told him everything she had missed in Cheyenne Mountain. It was lucky they had a secure line!

Still, she felt tired. Tired of playing this theatre game again, the student on earth game, the normal girl calling her parents on weekends game. Tired of waking up in the morning to learn about material resistance, who cared about those stupid girders and their breaking point? After three nights, she did not even hear her alarm clock anymore. Frances woke up very late, and rushed to her classes, yawning like a cat. Her thoughts started spinning out of control.

Was she suffering from an unknown ailment? Why was her body failing from such a short mission? She was, after all, sturdier than she looked. The answer came the following night, when she opened her eyes to find a tiny grey alien in front of her, and found out she was encased in a glass vertical container. Her limbs wouldn't move, but no rope restrained her. It was as if her own body did not respond to her command.

Frances tried not to panic – she hated enclosed spaces! Breathing hard, she willed her mind to start functioning again to jam her claustrophobia. Eventually, her rational brain kicked in, and she studied the sickly-looking alien that stood over a control panel a few feet away; he resembled Thor, supreme commander of the Asgardian fleet. They had met briefly in the SGC. Relief washed over her; in theory, this race was one of earth's allies. Yet, her situation left to be desired, especially since, through the window, she could discern the shape of her planet waaaaaay below.

A shiver ran down her spine. Danger.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The tiny alien blinked his huge dark eyes, and turned to her.

"My name is Loki."

God of mischief. Shit.

"An Asgardian."

The alien cocked his head to the side in an unsettling gesture, and Frances breathed slowly to calm her frantic heartbeat.

"That is correct."

He expressed no surprise about her knowledge, did he know who she was? If so, then why had he taken her without her consent?

"Would you mind giving me a little freedom? I really hate being enclosed in tiny spaces."

The Asgardian studied her for a moment, his gaze roaming over her form.

"I am afraid I cannot until you answer my questions."

"What kind of questions?"

"Your cells are strange, yet you are human. You might be the solution to unlocking the secrets of immortality to save my own race,"

Frances nodded. She knew of the Asgardian problematic: they transferred their consciousness from clone to clone and thus were literally immortal. Except that after many generations of cloning, their bodies started to degenerate. Thor had mentioned that they actively researched for a way to revert the issue. The name Loki rang a bell though, and she was pretty sure that the alien had been banned from experimenting on humans.

Frances frowned, danger bells ringing in her head. Could she negotiate her freedom? The young woman glanced at her reflection in the glass tube, looking at her throat; the necklace was absent. Probably on her nightstand as she removed it for the night. That meant that Loki would not be able to access it. Phew! Now, if she played her cards well…

"I might have some interesting circumstances," she stated cooly.

"The circumstances you speak of, could they renew your whole body without your genetic code changing?"

"Uh?"

"Your cells are as new and healthier than those of a newborn, but your body is twenty years of age. How to you revert the fast degenerescence of your race?"

Great, one more time, her race was denigrated because of its humanity. One could never get enough of it, it seemed! Her anger was short-lived, she needed to concentrate on this new information. Apparently, the necklace portal reconstructed her anew each time she stepped through, hence making her a newborn in the body of a twenty-year-old girl. Did it increase her lifespan by twenty years then? That would surely be a nice trick.

It certainly explained why all her scars were gone.

"How long have you been studying me?"

"Four days already, and I cannot find the reason why you are different."

Damn! Four days!

After all her efforts to appear normal, she'd be screwed if she disappeared. She'd have her parents, school and the police on her back. What would the American government say? The NID probably would try to get a hold of her! God, it was such a mess!

"Four days!" she yelled at the alien. "You can't be serious! I can't go missing like that, people will be looking for me!"

Loki levelled her with a pointed look, as if he assessed her stupidity.

"Fear not. I have created a clone to go through your daily routine, a clone I shall destroy when I am done."

The strange voice, calm and collected, calmed Frances down. So, on earth, she had a clone going to school in her stead. That was … nearly cool.

"And this clone, it has my consciousness as well?"

"Yes. It knows whatever you know, and lives like you do. I have copied your mind into it. It just contains a fail-safe and will be destroyed in time."

Frances's jaw opened, and closed. Just like that, this alien had created another her, and would kill it in the blink of an eye. The thought was disturbing at best, and frightening at worst.

"Does your cell regenerate when the spike of energy goes through you?"

The spike of energy? Oh … the necklace's portal!

"Is that how you found me?"

"Yes. This energy signature is known to us, but we do not have dealings with this world."

The sibylline words could mean anything from "we do not get along with the Valar" to "they kicked our asses out of their planet". But overall, it meant one important thing: Loki had knowledge of Arda! It was the Valar's energy signature that brought the alien to her, surely it meant something!

Frances's mind was running so fast; deep down, she recognised this as a gift. She has passed the test and saved Lancelot from being killed, transcendenting her grief and completing her mission to allow King Arthur to build his infamous court. Now came a response in a twisted way, she was sure of it! Somehow, there was an advantage to be taken off that situation. But how? Loki was watching her warily, or so she thought for his face was unexpressive. His posture though, she could read quite well.

"Does Thor know that you are studying humans again?"

Silence greeted her, the alien struck speechless for a moment. Before the situation got out of hand, Frances hit him with a massive argument.

"I might have something to suggest, a deal of sorts."

"A deal? I do not understand this word."

"I will not tell O'Neill to relate your unusual studies to the supreme commander, and I will let you take some samples of my blood willingly. I will also tell you why I do not seem to age."

"And what would you require in exchange?"

Frances smirked. There was nothing Loki could use regarding her anti-ageing system. As long as he didn't know about the necklace, it was safe enough. And telling him she was favoured by some Gods he knew nothing about, and that she travelled through portals and was rebuilt would not interest him. What Loki wanted was a way to regenerate his body, not build one. But for now, he didn't know that she was a dead-end. Frances smirked.

"Oh, I might have a little idea!"

The creature blinked.