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Click. Crash. Thud. The television remote fell from the table onto the newspaper that had been neglected even before purchase. The neglect of the newspaper was not in character, usually a newspaper would be not only acknowledged but also entirely filled out, but not today? MAN IN ARMOUR, HOLDING SWORD, DETAINED BY POLICE. Picking up a pen and the paper, the client of said newspaper picked it up, skimmed the article headline and cursed under his breath at what he read.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he mumbled while he was quickly putting his coat and shoes back on so he was about ready to go, “of course that dollophead has to get himself arrested as the first thing he does when he comes back.” Pacing down the stairs, he had to stop himself from colliding with the floor as he tripped on the stair.
Turning his keys in his car, no lights or sound was exhaled and he plummeted his head onto the steering wheel. He picked up his phone and decided that Google Maps would have to be the best option for his journey to the police station and it would have to be on foot - much to his dismay as it was a tedious journey but alas he was used to long walks. It was also his only option for noon in Glastonbury as well.
“Miles,” a police officer - Daniele - said, “what are you doing here?” She asked the man, they knew each other well due to their history together. She was next to another police officer - Simon - who was on a call with someone, not fully aware of the situation at hand going on around him.
“I heard you’ve got a man in armour with a sword, I might know something about that.” He said, bluntly. His arms crossed, he grew anxious that his suspicions were wrong. He had been waiting for so long and if he was wrong he knew that he wouldn’t be able to cope with this assumption being wrong.
“Of course you would, you know a lot don’t you? Or, as you say, you’ve just lived a long time.” She said between laughs while he stayed silent at the comment, and had him follow her. What she didn’t know though, is just how long he had not only lived but also just how long he had actually been waiting for this day to come.
He took one look at the man in the cell, and an avalanche of conceptualizations he had long obliterated from his mind and disregarded entirely came to his mind all during the one scan of the, in comparison, young man. Black boots. Silver armour. Silver chainmail. Black gloves. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. A wound on the left side. All signs point to one man and one man only that he has been waiting for for an incredibly gut-wrenchingly long time, a man he had affectionately known for ten years. A man who he had sacrificed his soul, yet not his body, for. A man whose name he had vowed to himself to never say again, a man who he had loved called…
“...Arthur?”
“Bye Miles, update me on what you find out when you discover what is going on with that guy. I feel like something’s off about him but I can’t place it, with your immense amount of knowledge, you’ll probably work it out.” Daniele told the old man, smiling awkwardly at him and the man who had previously been arrested.
“Alright, who are you and how do you know my name?” The blonde man asked when they had almost finished the journey from the police station to the older man’s home. The past forty five minutes had been in utter silence so the break of quiet was unanticipated, but understandable in the circumstances.
“My name is Miles Emmerson, and we knew each other… a long time ago.” The older man said, not meeting the other’s eyes. Looking up for a second, he smiled a faint smile. He hadn’t smiled in a long time, so smiling at someone let alone who he was smiling at felt too good to be true.
“How did we know each other a long time ago? I just came back to life after I’d been dead for the past… one thousand, four hundred and ninety five years, I think. That’s what someone in the Lake of Avalon said, I don’t really know though.” Arthur said, taking a deep breath in and out after asking the question.
“I’ll explain when we get in,” he said quietly, “it’s hard to explain. Especially here, when anyone can hear me.” Hearing a car charging on speedingly behind them, he then grabbed the blonde man’s right wrist and dragged him onto the pavement.
“Woah! What is that? It’s so loud and so quick!” He exclaimed in a panic, overwhelmed by what had just happened mere seconds beforehand. He spun his head around in confusion, trying to get yet another glimpse of the unknown, to him, machinery that had just passed them.
“That… is a car,” he groaned in annoyance, “I’m gonna have to teach you so much aren’t I?” He rummaged through his bag for his house key, and after he found it, he opened the door and pushed him through the doorway and he climbed through afterwards. Afterwards, he relocked the door and he sighed and smiled to himself brightly.
“So, are you finally going to tell me how we knew each other a long time ago?” Arthur questioned, while waiting in the kitchen for some toast. Ding. Immediately after the sound, he flinched and screamed in terror.
“I’m Merlin… your old friend and servant,” he almost cried. I’m a sorcerer, I have magic. The memories of him confessing to having magic rushed to his head, a sad but needed memory. He had regretted confessing to one of his best friends about that in that way, but there was nothing he could’ve done to help the situation and he knew that and Arthur knew that.
“Oh… I’m sorry. I really am sorry, Merlin.” He replied, choking back a flood of tears to prevent it from falling from his eyes. The realisation that Merlin had waited for one thousand, four hundred and ninety five years without fail broke him. How was he supposed to know what to do at that moment? One thousand, four hundred and ninety five years of waiting for a dead man to return? Merlin might just be the strongest man Arthur has ever known, but he could never say that to him. He didn’t want his friend to feel any worse than he already had done for so long.
“Sorry for what? It’s fine, I’m fine! I don’t even care anymore,” he insisted while buttering Arthur’s toast. However, he was very clearly not fine, and he very clearly did still care . But, he didn’t want to plague Arthur with those thoughts. Especially after he just came back to life. “Besides, I’m not in love with you anymore.”
“I didn’t know you ever were,” Arthur choked out, taking a bite out of the toast as he spoke. Looking at his new sneakers, he bit his tongue so he would not say something he would regret saying. Taking his plate across the hall, he stumbled into a room he was shocked to have walked into. All around him were books, DVDs and VHS tapes of adaptations of his life, it felt surreal to look at. However, the thing that caught his eye the most was the paintings, thousands and thousands of drawings and sketches of his face looking at him. Until, he saw a collection with a blurry face. “You drew me?” Arthur queried, practically rendered speechless.
“Everyday. I have drawn you everyday, even if it’s just a quick sketch. I never wanted to forget your face or your features, I wanted to always remember you.” Merlin walked over, “eventually I did forget your face. But, I always knew what you sounded like and that’s what kept me going.” He leaned in - as if to kiss him - eager to rectify the crumbs he had been living off for almost fifteen hundred years, however it was rapidly dodged.
“Merlin… I may not be formally married to Guinevere, but I still love her. As for you, I can’t see you in any way similar to that. I don’t mean this against you personally, just I can’t do that to her. Even one thousand, four hundred and ninety five years after my death, it just isn’t fair to her. I hope you can understand that.” Arthur uttered, him almost whispering the words.
“Of course, I understand. You’ll love Gwen forever, and I’ll just be your friend and in previous times, servant. That’s fine, I can deal with that.” Merlin said, looking at the room that he had assigned for when this time would come. “Come on, I sorted you a room. It’s just got a bed, a table and some drawers, simply because I know you won’t understand everything there otherwise.”
“Oh. Thank you,” he smiled - not acknowledging what just happened. Thank you were his last words, he probably brought back a wave of bad memories saying that! “I mean. I don’t know what to say… Mainly because you’ve been alive for a whole one thousand, four hundred and ninety five years after I died, but also because… I’m just gonna go to bed. I need a really nice long nap, I’ve had a very tiring long first day back.”
“Yeah, of course. Knock yourself out,” he replied with a smile. He won’t understand what that means! It’s a modern saying! “I mean, you don’t understand that. I’m just saying, go ahead.” He then walked off - back to the lounge to pick up the newspaper from earlier.
“What are you making? It smells dreadful!” Arthur exclaimed upon entering the kitchen three hours later, he recognised the stew-like mixture, however he still thought it was best to ask rather than be revolted later.
“Rat stew, your favourite,” Merlin joked. “I’m actually making tomato soup, it’s gonna have to be canned though. Not that you would know the difference, you’ve never tried my tomato soup.” He poured the open tin can into the pot, grabbed a wooden spoon from his cutlery drawer and stirred the soup with it.
“What is that?” He asked, pointing to the can. He opened the cupboard above him and grabbed two glasses, and two bowls. “You’ll find I’m asking that a lot,” he laughed while saying that and looking at the soup being served.
“That’s fine, I don’t mind. As long as I’m talking to you, I don’t care about your constant questions. That… is a can. It’s made of steel, and it stores food. You know, like barrels? It’s a metal and smaller version of that.” He responded, smiling. “Do you want to do something while you eat or do you just want to sit in your room?”
“Actually, I urgently need to talk to you about something that happened when I was alive. It’s about my father, which I’m sure is a delicate topic because y’know - your magic and him persecuting magic users.” Arthur ate some soup after speaking, realising just how awkward the conversation was about to be.
“Oh. Right, yeah, I don’t mind answering any questions or having any crucial conversations.” Merlin walked into the lounge, and sat at the table. He looked at the candle on the table, cast a spell and the candle set alight. He saw that he was being stared at, “If I’m feeling lazy I still use magic but thanks to modern technology and electricity, life is much easier.”
“No, I sort of forgot you have magic actually. But, I wanted to talk to you in particular about my father’s death and about what you said to me at the Battle of Camlann. So, when you confessed about your magic and said that you’re that old sorcerer… Does that mean you killed my father?” He looked at his bowl rather than at the older man, taking a bite of bread.
“Uh… I thought you would ask that when you wanted to talk about your father, but I don’t know how to explain this. Your father was enchanted so any magical attempts to save him wouldn’t work, Agravaine found you were going to use magic in an attempt to save your father and he instantly told Morgana. My magic could do nothing against her enchantment,” he replied. Looking out the window, he looked to Glastonbury Abbey, then back to his food as he carried on eating.
“I’m sorry about how you must have felt, you know, with me saying that magic is evil and all sorcerers can’t be trusted. That must have stung to hear,” the blonde took a sip of water. “I have to say though, on a more positive note, I love indoor plumbing.” He considered laughing, but opted against it. Imagine if he laughed while talking about how he enforced and allowed a genocide of his friends’ people, that would be the worst thing for someone to do!
“It’s fine, you didn’t know your audience, and that’s not your fault in the slightest. I don’t mean to say this too harshly, because he was your father-” He got abruptly interrupted, and he wasn’t expecting what words in which he was interrupted with.
“-My father was a massive hypocrite and a liar. I’ve only fully grasped that after his death, and some of it while I was dying. I mean, he was lying to me about my mother and about Morgana being his daughter, what else was he lying about? As for being a hypocrite, I spoke to my mother after I died and Morgause was right, she just went the wrong way about it. She did it because she knew I was vulnerable and wanted answers, whereas she wanted me to betray and kill my father. My father did start the Great Purge as a result of my birth and my mother’s death, and I cannot believe he would do such a thing so he wouldn’t have to accept the consequences of him using magic for my birth.” He interfered, then continued eating to deflect what had just happened and what he had just admitted.
“I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to criticise your father as one of the first things to do when you came back to life. I’m not complaining, but I’m just shocked. It’s good to see you taking accountability for once, shame it didn’t happen when Uther was alive, but oh well.” He was about to get up and take the bowls, but they were already picked up. “You’re gonna help with washing up?”
“Oh, no. I don’t understand the… dishwasher. That’s right, you said it’s a dishwasher. I just wanted to help you out by bringing the stuff to the kitchen, because you’ve done so much for me and this is my way of formally thanking you.” He walked off to the kitchen, before coming back while hopping on his left leg with his right foot lifted.
“Oh no, what did you do this time?” Merlin sighed, tucking his chair into the table and blowing out the candle afterwards. He had his friend hang onto him, and he took him to the lounge.
“I stubbed my toe, am I gonna die?!” He started to panic, clearly unaware of modern medicine. While sitting down on the couch his friend raised his foot on the foot rest, took off his sock and grabbed some frozen peas. He placed it down on Arthur’s affected area and then grabbed a pack of tablets. “What are those for?”
“These?” He looked at them, and pondered how to explain. “These help me with my depression, it’s supposed to make me feel happier. Clearly, they didn’t realise that all my friends dying can’t be treated with a flimsy pill because I’m still depressed, traumatised and feel guilty about the deaths of you and our friends.” He took said pill and chugged his glass of water, and sighed.
“Merlin… I really am sorry. You didn’t deserve to go through that, you must have felt so alone. But, I can’t help thinking about your life. You must have felt alone for so much of it, I mean - being a sorcerer in hiding and now being immortal? I can’t believe that.” The blonde said, looking into the other man’s eyes.
“Arthur. I need to be honest with you. The last dragonlord, the one that died when we tried to get him to help us, was my father. So, I’m the last dragonlord now. And, the Dolma? That was me. I have helped you so many times, I mean what I said when you were dying; It’s my destiny to serve you.” The aged man sat on the couch next to the younger one, stroking his beard. “I just wish I knew what Albion’s greatest need is, causing you to come back. D*mn it, I can’t even ask the dragon, because the only dragon that’s left can’t talk. You know what, I’m going to go for a walk.”
“Please let me come with you, please! I’ve been dead for so long, I barely have had any human interactions.” He put his sock back on, and stuck his sneaker on and ran after the older man. “I’ll be good, I swear. I won’t talk to anyone without you going first, I swear.” The older man looked him up and down.
“Alright, fine, but you need to change. You’re not going outside in the 21st Century wearing armour from the 6th Century with a stab wound in it. Here, take these.” He passed him a red shirt, black hoodie and black trousers. “It’s been just under a millennium and a half since I’ve had to dress you, so if those don’t fit, let me know.”
“So… Thoughts?” He asked about ten minutes later, fully dressed in his new ensemble. Clearly, he was uncomfortable to be wearing new clothes after wearing the same armour for so long, but he trusted his friend and if he said it was necessary he knew best.
“Do you want Merlin’s opinion or Dr Miles Emmerson, PhD in mythology and folklore,’s opinion?” The blonde tilted his head, signifying he wanted his own opinion not his alias’ opinion. “You look like a total turniphead, but it’s going to have to work if you so desperately want to have human interaction and go for a walk with me around Glastonbury.”
“Hey, Miles. How are you doing? And, who’s this?” Simon asked, “Oh - it kinda looks like the man me and Daniele arrested.” He sized the man up and down, grinning a seemingly very awkward and fake smiled.
“Hey, Simon, yeah it is. He’s my great nephew, always getting into trouble. I’m good, though. I just want to show him the Abbey.” He pointed forward, beaming briefly. He then picked up his phone, 17:00 , “There’s still time to go in but barely so we best be on our way.” Simon waved goodbye and they went on their way.
“Why do you want to show me the Abbey then? What’s so special about it? It looks like just some ruins.” Arthur said, squinting his eyes so he could see it better. He followed the older man, regardless of how he felt about the building in front of him. “Also, what’s that?” He pointed to the phone, before looking around the building so as not to be obviously asking that in front of the ticket office.
“Hi, an over 60’s ticket and an adult one.” Merlin requested, smiling slightly. Once they got in and he paid, he spoke again. “That’s a phone, you use it to contact people far away or even nearby. The only perk of being immortal is you get a cheaper ticket for events, trust me.” He muttered under his breath the last part, invoking a laugh from his friend. “The Abbey has something about you, and I thought you might want to have a reflection while we look at it.”
“I’m sorry - did you say ‘something about me?’ Why’s there something about me? How am I relevant to the Abbey?” His eyes scanned the ruins, still confused on how he was relevant to a building that was first built 182 years after his death. Nonetheless, he followed on. Partially because he was still lost in the modern world - actually completely for that reason. Who was he kidding?
“Here we are,” he pointed to a hole in the ground. The young man’s eyes widened and then he looked at the old man, “I know. Also, I know what you’re going to ask. No, I did not bury Gwen, I took her to Avalon and I gave her a proper committal. And, yes, I was there when she died. She also… left an heir.” He looked up slightly, not quite smiling but not quite sullen in his expression either because he didn’t know how his friend would feel at that moment.
“She left an heir? Who?” He insisted on knowing, but the solemn look on his friend’s face told him everything he needed to know. He just needed confirmation. “Did she remarry or was the heir a Pendragon?” He fought back tears, just in case he got news that he was in turn happy with. The thought of the love of his life remarrying made him upset, but he knew that if she needed to for the sake of the kingdom she knew best.
“She didn’t remarry. Queen Aita-Ygraine Pendragon was very well liked in Camelot and in the other six kingdoms Camelot was allied with, as she ruled fairly with no exceptions. Her mother, who removed the ban on magic that had been put in place during her father-in-law’s reign, was also incredibly well liked. Unfortunately, they both had relatively short reigns, however they are remembered to be some of the best years for Albion.” He smiled, knowing that this news was the best news he could have told his friend who had feared for his kingdom posthumously.
“Thank you for telling me that, Merlin.” He looked at his wedding ring, thinking about both his mother and his wife - both were women he treasured deeply despite not having enough time with. While thinking about that, he thought about his daughter he didn’t even know about. I can’t believe I never got the chance to meet her,” he sighed. The older man knew he was talking about his daughter, but also in a way, his mother. “I just wish that I didn’t exist in a time that was not hers. Had my father not been my father, do you think I would get to meet her? I’m talking about both my mother and daughter here, before you answer.”
“Yes. I would never say this to you while you were alive in the 6th Century, but now you are alive in the 21st Century I can say it: Yes, you would. Your father knew you would miss out on having a mother, and yet he wagered your mother’s life for yours. As for your daughter, also yes. Your father’s affair with Vivienne - Morgana’s mother - brought on your war with Morgana. Had he not been so selfish, and actually told her the truth, your death would be very different. You didn’t deserve to die at twenty-nine - stabbed by one of the few people you could trust, Arthur. You deserved to die of old age, after serving as king for a long and prosperous reign. But; in my 1,519 years of life, I have learnt a lot and I have come to terms with even more. Your destiny is yours and yours alone, helping others change theirs does nothing. Yours was to die at the Battle of Camlann, but rise again when Albion’s need is greatest, it was not to stop Morgana or Mordred. There’s no need to dwell in the past any longer than I already have done for one thousand, four hundred and ninety five years .” He grabbed a plastic water bottle from his bag, drank some and offered it to his friend. At the shake of his head, he put it back in his bag.
“When did you become so wise?” He teased, hoping that the comedic manner of his words was evident. When he laughed alone, he knew that the joke had fallen on deaf ears and he stopped laughing. He instantly felt bad about laughing at him, knowing what he had gone through while waiting for him.
“I always have been, you’ve just been too busy noticing my faults.” He then walked off, “I’m going home. I’m tired. I would say, you can make your own way back but you’d probably get hit by a car, so if you want to come with me we’re going now.” He grabbed his house keys, and strolled back along the almost empty road. It was only almost empty because there were people walking and cars parked. Thankfully for both men, no cars were speeding past them.
“Once again, I’m really so sorry, Merlin. You don’t deserve any of what I put you through, both during my life and after. No one deserves to go through all that, especially not you .” The hoodie wearer smiled. Merlin felt like crying, he needed Arthur. And, Arthur needed Merlin, just not in the same way he needed him. He knew he could never compare to Gwen, his one true love. They were always going to find each other, and he just had to stand and watch it all happen over in the sidelines.
“I’m gonna just sit in the… room. I need a bit of time alone, away from people. It’s nothing personal, it’s just being away from those who don’t understand me for 1445 years allowed me to have a bit of peace and a chance to reflect. I mean, sure I made some new friends but it wasn’t the same so I need some privacy.” Merlin walked off, leaving a cold breeze to enter the dining room.
“Alright, while you do that, I will return to my room. I understand, well - not fully but I think I’m getting there, slowly but surely.” Arthur responded, picking up a book and analysing the title. He took it with him to his bedroom but overheard sniffling coming from the other room, he considered going inside but knew that his friend wanted some privacy so he vetoed against it at the last second - mainly because his friend deserves privacy but also because he knew he wasn’t a very helpful person with emotional stuff.
“Arthur!” He called after him fifteen minutes later, and the man came to him. “When you were in the Lake of Avalon, did you talk to anyone besides your mother? This is important, I need you to remember this. Anyone at all; a fairy, shede, a human, a dragon?” He stressed the human part, just in case.
“Uh, yeah. Shortly after I had arrived in Avalon, I spoke to this woman with black hair and brown eyes. She said her name, in life, was Freya. We talked a bit about my ‘destiny’, could you maybe help me understand what she meant by that?” He thought to himself about what he was saying, “She also knew who I was before I knew who she was - It was a bit strange but I didn’t question it.”
“You met Freya? Okay, that’s good. What did she say about your destiny then? Once again this is important, you need to remember every detail she mentioned.” He grasped onto his friend, begging and pleading for answers he had been missing out on for so very long. Opening the window, he looked outside to the park and took a drink of a small vial that had previously been in his bag. In a matter of seconds, he looked the same as he did one thousand, four hundred and ninety five years ago.
“You looking old was just a spell? You didn’t actually age even a measly year during the entirety of the long time I was dead?” He looked at the man who was smirking at the thought of his new secret being exposed again, and just put his hands in the air in a surrendering gesture. “I actually cannot believe that you lied to me and tricked me… again.”
“People generally respect an old man who looks like he’s on his deathbed more, that’s also why I changed my name. If I went about saying I’m Merlin, people would look at me like I’m crazy. I probably am, but still. Besides, I wanted to see how long it would take you to do anything about me looking ancient , but ageing spells are really tedious so I gave up on using it. Besides, you haven’t told me what Freya said!” He walked to the next room, holding a plate with a both vegan cheese and vegan ham sandwich in which he had already taken two miniscule bites out of.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot I was supposed to tell you what Freya had told me. Sorry, I’m so all over the place, it’s taking a lot to get used to - the modern world, being back alive, seeing you again after so long - I just got side tracked all over again, didn’t I? Sorry, I promise I’ll try not to in the future. Okay, so, Freya said that when I come back I need to defend Albion or whatever that means. She said that it’s at risk of destruction, and the only people that can stop that from happening and bringing peace to ‘Britain’ is us. But, where’s Britain?” He sat on the couch next to the other man, who started laughing at the confusion both on his face and in his voice when he asked the question at the end.
“Okay, first of all: We are in Britain, I’ll explain everything you’ve missed soon. But, about us needing to defend Albion - I think I know something about that. But, I need to talk to someone who knows more than I do. Where I’m going to find them is a whole nother story,” he grabbed a canvas and his phone. “One second, stand still.” He said, throwing the sword seconds before it was successfully caught in the other man’s right hand.
“Ugh, why?” He groaned in annoyance at the thought of having to pose for a painting. They both knew that he had to pose for a great deal of paintings both as prince and as king - primarily remembering the latter of course, but not as many as he did earlier due to his short four year reign. Immediately after taking the picture, he flashed his eyes at it only to pass his gaze onto the canvas and in a mere few milliseconds the canvas was filled with the picture from the phone. His eyes widened as he questioned what he just witnessed, “You can do that… with magic?”
“I did something like this before with Lancelot’s seal of nobility, what can I say? I’m a man of many talents, when it comes to magic, not in general probably. You know me, I’m just lazy. Also, I was going to ask you for help with something before, but I don’t know if I should anymore.” He looked to through the window, “D*mn it. I need to go to the store, I know you won’t really be able to help, but can you try?”
“Yeah, I can try. Can’t promise I can totally help though, I am a king who was dead for one thousand, four hundred and ninety five years after all.” Arthur responded, smiling brightly meanwhile. Merlin missed that smile, the one that reminded him of the sun itself. The one that illuminated his days as a servant like the sun. The one that had disappeared and all the light in his life had too. While this reflection was happening, the younger man put his sneakers on and did up his laces.
“Are you ready to go?” The nod from his friend made the old man smile, he quickly did the usual ageing spell and he put on his coat and shoes. “You’re not going to wear a coat? It’s freezing outside, well - not freezing, but it’s cold.” He scanned up and down the other man before grabbing a spare coat, passing it on. He looked back at the coat with a look that resembled disgust, yet wasn’t quite detestation. It was more of a judgemental look, so he put the coat away after that.
“This place looks so extravagant , how do they keep all the stuff cold?” He picked up the box of vegan ice cream that had been placed in the basket, “It’s amazing! Also, what does vegan mean?” He pronounced the word ‘vegan’ as ‘v-uh-gee-an’, causing the older man to laugh at him. “You’re laughing at me, and yet you’re not correcting me. I could have you arrested for that, you know.”
“Mmm, no you couldn’t. I don’t know how to break it to you, but… Not only does Camelot not exist anymore, there’s also a different king, but also how would you explain that to the police? Besides, ‘vegan’ is pronounced ‘v-e-g-a-n’. And, you’re going to be having to get used to my new diet, because I will be buying meat for you very rarely. I know when you were king, you had a lot of meat, but sadly for you I don’t eat any anymore.” He laughed yet again at his friend’s jaw drop at the thought of everything he had just unloaded to him in that miniature speech on the modern world and how it’s impacted his life. After picking up his jaw, he whipped his head round and saw a woman with brown curly hair, warm skin and wearing a lavender purple dress. He began walking towards her, before being dragged by his hoodie’s hood. “You clotpole, that’s not Gwen! That’s some random woman, and you were going to follow her and land yourself arrested… again ! It’s like dealing with a toddler. Good thing I never had kids, but bad thing because now I have to deal with resurrected… you! And, let’s just say, I’d rather have kids than deal with you f*cking stalking some woman and calling her your wife and my best friend’s name.”
“But, she looked just like Guinevere!” He pleaded, seeming like he’s going to cry. “Also, that word you used beginning with ‘F’,” he mouthed it before continuing, “sounds so cool!” He walked off before being dragged by his hood yet again, “Ugh. What do you want to control me and stop me from doing now, Mer lin?”
“You need to stop running away from me, you don’t know what you’re doing here. If you had come back two years ago, maybe I would have let you run around, but now when you’re on the verge of having a criminal record because you went to a public place when first coming out of the lake instead of waiting for me to collect you… I might as well make you wear a leash. You need to understand that you’re not a king anymore, and I know more about the real and modern world than you do.” He looked away for a fraction of a second, only to see when looking back at the other man crying. He had seen Arthur cry five times in the entire nine years he was his servant; 1: When he confronted Uther about his mother, 2: When Morgana overthrew Uther and he found out Uther had lied to him, 3: When Gwen was enchanted and he had to banish her, 4: On his wedding day to Gwen, 5: When he confronted Uther post-mortem. What could he do? He wasn’t used to Arthur crying…
“I’m sorry, Merlin. I really am. I know I’m not perfect, but I am trying. I understand that I’m making your life difficult, you don’t need all of that. I’m sorry, I’ll do everything you say, I have been overstepping. I just feel so weak, I was an excellent warrior while I was alive and now I can’t even walk around a store without almost following a woman that reminds me of Guinevere. I’m useless, absolutely useless . I’m supposed to unite Albion, and yet I come at a time when the country is already united. I can’t do anything for myself, and nothing’s the same anymore - you’re not the same anymore. You’ve got this new persona, and I don’t even know if my life was real or it was some cruel trick. I mean, I get it, I really do. But, everyone’s always treated me like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve been tricked and betrayed so many times, how do I know that I won’t turn on myself because I feel like I’m going to - but do I even know anything?! No! How could I know that Morgana would be my sister, Agravaine would betray me and you would have magic? I couldn’t know that because no one tells me anything ! They just wait until I’m vulnerable and then they act like I knew that was going to happen - Well, I never knew anything that happened to me would ever happen to me. I missed out on my daughter’s life, her whole life . Not just the ending of it, her whole life. Am I a bad person, Merlin? Is that why everyone has at some point betrayed me or tried to kill me? Have I done something to deeply hurt them?” His voice broke at the end, and he leant his head onto the older man’s shoulder while puling to him. Said older man stroked his blonde hair and looked up, blinking his eyes so he wouldn’t start crying as well.
“I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry. I know that I’m partially responsible for you feeling like this, but I promise you that you are not a bad person. You may have made some decisions that in hindsight were not the wisest and should have been done differently, but you were an amazing king and you’re going to be amazing now. Believe me when I say I know everything there is to know about feeling weak and useless, and you are anything but that. You are so strong, and you need to realise that you are only bringing yourself down, but that doesn’t mean that what you’re saying is true. You know so much more than you realise, and I’m sorry that you don’t see it that way.” He picked up the basket again, grabbing a box of vegan sausages and dropped it into said basket. Then, he walked off so he could pay.
“I’m sorry for unloading all of that in a very public place, it was wrong of me to do that. I really need to learn about the right place and time to cry about these things, don’t I? You’re probably really embarrassed that you had to deal with that, which is weird because I used to be humiliated by you rather a lot and now you’re probably embarrassed of me. I mean, I would be embarrassed if I saw an… idiot crying about things that happened around 1500 years ago.” He crossed his arms, looked to the window and fiddled with his wedding ring that he had not thought about since his death. It was a ring he had gotten personally done to be plain on the outside, but have an engraving of a dragon and gillyflowers on the inside. He took it off, kissed it and mumbled. “I’m sorry for dying on you, Guinevere. I’ll always miss you, I’m really so sorry.” He put it back on, while the other man looked at him.
“You miss your wife, huh?” A man, who looked about twice his age at the time of his death, looked at him, and smiled awkwardly at the prospect of them bonding over them both missing their wives. He nodded, “I feel you. Is your wife dead or do you just miss her?” He crossed his arms and looked at his own ring, smiling sadly.
“Would you believe me if I said I came back from the dead a few days ago and she died fifteen years after me?” The other man chuckled but shook his head, “Well it’s true. I’m King Arthur, you know, of Camelot.” He said, not quite smiling but not quite frowning at the thought of saying those words out loud.
“Mmhmm, sure. And I live on Mars, mate. Honestly, the stuff you youngsters come up with. King Arthur of Camelot, you should know that that’s just a fairytale and is just a myth.” He rolled his eyes, mocking him in a way. Walking off, he was left stunned and also silenced. Looking at the other man, he grabbed the large bag on the floor and smiled.
“Thanks, have a good day. Oh… You’re helping me carry the bags home, wow, there’s a first time for everything. Arthur Pendragon is actually thinking about others and helping me out, what do you know?” Merlin strided forward only to collapse on the ground, tripping over his own laces. “You didn’t see that right?” He looked up as he got back on his feet, biting his bottom lip to conceal his laughter over the event that had just occurred seconds ago.
“Oh of course, I didn’t. Seriously though, of course I’m helping you out. Also, there was this man who was laughing at me when I told him who I am.” Arthur looked forward, scanning the road for… cars. He had fought a number of creatures and people, and yet when he returned his greatest enemy was electric machinery that he was not there when they were made - cars. Who knew that he would be so scared at the sight of a car?
“Oh, yeah, you’ll find a lot of people don’t believe in you. Your story has been passed down, twisted and adapted so many times throughout the centuries, people don’t quite believe it anymore. Frankly, I stopped believing at some point.” He was being stared at, yet he continued. “I’m sorry but after waiting for 1300 years for you, I kind of had lost a bit of hope you’d return. I never lost faith in your existence though, it helped that I was there while you were. That’s the main reason I created this new persona, people would always judge me if I said my name’s Merlin.” He took out his phone, sighed, and put said phone back in his trousers pocket.
“Yeah, that would kind of make sense. I have to say though, it’s good that you made a life of yourself. I’m just sad I wasn’t around to see it, I’m sorry, I know I made you go through a lot after my death. And, I know it wasn’t easy when I was alive either. I have a lot of regrets about my life, one of my main ones is continuing the ban on magic. I think I was scared about the evil my… sister caused, and I was blinded by the fact that magic is not evil but she was. Everyday after my death for a good year, I blamed myself for what she became. I miss her, Merlin. I miss who she was, when she was kind and compassionate. Not like… our father.” He looked to the left with red eyes, brimmed with slight tears. He choked at the word and phrase ‘sister’ and ‘our father’, hating how he became so corrupted by the thought of his sister turning against him he didn’t see things for how they truly are.
“I’m sorry. I really am, so so so so sorry.” The last ‘so’ was also choked out, and he also was on the verge of tears. He hugged the younger man, he knew that said man was not one for physical touch as he only remembered one time he had been held by the other, and yet they both melted into the hug. “You’ll never fully understand how sorry I am, and that I am also sorry about. I never wanted to hurt you, I beg that you know that.” He opened the door, defeated at the thought of everything that has occurred during his 1519 years of life.
“I still can’t get over how you are immortal and you had to just accept everyone’s deaths. No one deserves that fate, and you going through all of that after going through so much pain and being unable to share that pain is even worse. I feel sick just thinking about everything that you must have gone through,” Arthur looked to the right at the man before him. He actually recognised this man, as he skimmed through the map that he had spread out across the square table.
“I accepted my fate a while ago, but I know, it’s insane. But, destiny and fate f*cking me over is a common pattern throughout my life, and I just have to accept it. Sure, it may not be fair, but life isn’t. If life was fair, I wouldn’t have been lonely for 1459 years, or I would be mortal. Also, I think I have worked out where I can find the person I said before that I need to find. Unfortunately, it’s a few days via horse. Fortunately , it’s a few hours via car.” Merlin laughed as he watched the other man’s smile fade at the sound of the final word… ‘car’. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to deal with cars a lot, it is the modern world afterall.” He folded up the map, and grabbed his car keys. Packing his phone in his bag, he bit his bottom lip to stop himself from saying something that he truly felt like he couldn’t say due to everything that had happened in merely, and simply the past week.
“So, who are you going to see? I mean, surely, you must know practically everything there is to know. You’ve been alive 1490 years longer than I ever have, after all.” He looked from the passenger seat, smiling with his classic slightly crooked grin. Meanwhile, he fidgeted and bounced his leg in the seat, cracking his knuckles while doing so. Both men looked at the road, each thinking a different thing. The blonde was thinking about what his destiny would mean, whereas the brunette was thinking about if all the efforts he had endured were in vain.
“The Dochraid, she knows essentially all there is to know about this stuff. She may not like me, but she’s gonna have to deal with me because I want answers and I want you to have answers.” He indicated and left the roundabout, took out the water bottle from the bag, took a swig of it, put said bottle back and carried on driving. “I hope you understand that I don’t actually know everything, you were entirely right - I am an idiot. I have lived thousands of different lives, and yet I always return to Merlin, also known as: ‘Idiot’, ex-servant to the famous and legendary King Arthur of Camelot.” He laughed at the end part, laughing at the thought of what he had just said about his first attempt to escape prophecies - which had drastically failed and cost him the life of two of his closest friends, the life of one of his ex-friend, and his soul.
“I know you said this to me, but you are smarter than you realise. I have looked to you for guidance countless times during my life, I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think you were smart enough. I always trusted you with my life, even before I had the knowledge that you’re the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth. As well as being my servant, you were also one of my closest friends and you know that.” The king’s words touched the sorcerer on another level, he felt like crying at this revelation. Him having these values is what caused him to fall in love all those years ago. He took off the silver chain around his neck, a simple silver ring connected to it. “What’s that?” He knew that he wasn’t being asked what it was, but rather when he got it.
“Oh… I got married about 250 years ago. His name was Henry, I met him at a ball and we eloped together shortly after. My name was Malcolm, I think I loved him. I don’t actually know if I did, I told him I loved him, but at the same time I could have just been reminiscing about you and what I wish I could have done to save you.” He put the chain back around his neck just before indicating on the roundabout to go right onto the third exit, and smelt the air freshener and smiled.
“You… got married? The fact that you got married to a man isn’t the part I’m confused about, it’s just the fact that you actually were a husband for a moment in time. It feels so… bizarre to think about the concept of you actually being married.” He grabbed a book from the compartment in the door, smiled at first only to focus on what was written and the picture. The Real Life of King Arthur - Dr. Miles Emmerson. The cover being a painting of him, he may have seen many paintings of him during his life but seeing one done for after his death felt strange. “You wrote a book about me?”
“Oh… Yeah, I published it fifty years ago. It has all of the truth, would you believe how many people believe Gwen was a princess before you two got married? And anytime I say that she wasn’t a princess to someone, they always never believe me.” He had the car stop, and he got out so he could let them both out due to the younger of the two men still not fully understanding cars and how they are not as much of a threat as they may appear to someone who was used to carriages as the advanced form of transport.
“So what did the Dochraid say?” Arthur asked, clad in his armour except with one difference opposed to one week ago. Where he had the stab wound that caused his death all those years ago, he now had a big plaster. Despite not bleeding anymore and not being injured anymore, he still had it because he still had a faint scar from the wound, and his chainmail still had a blood stain. “I didn’t go in, mainly because I… felt weak again because I wouldn’t understand anything about my own destiny.” He also had a familiar blood-soaked piece of cloth around his right arm. Instead of looking at the man in front of him, he outstretched his arms onto the table, palms flat, and looked at the map.
“Oh… She said that Britain has gone into turmoil over the past few years, and you need to somehow fix that. When I asked for more details, she refused to give it to me because she knew that I killed Morgana. I wish I could help you and give you more information, but a lot of sorcerers and magic creatures are inherently selfish. I suppose I was selfish while you were alive too, only really caring about if you were alive and well.” Merlin looked at the other man, taking a sip of water from his glass, which was right above the map. He crossed his arms and took a forkful out of the plate of mashed potatoes next to his glass, feeling as if he was on the verge of tears all over again. He didn’t even know why, but it had surely been an emotional past seven days, so maybe he just was getting emotional over everything that has happened merely this week. Or, he could be crying over the past. He surely had spent a great deal of time crying over the past, so he probably was crying over the past.
“We need to get ourselves ready to sort out this turmoil, how are we going to do that? Because, believe it or not, I don’t understand the modern world that much. It’s not like I just came back to life, after being dead for one thousand, four hundred and ninety five years , a week ago.” Both men laughed at his statement, bright smiles on each of their faces. Despite said statement having sad elements to it, the humour behind it all was incredibly clear. The older of the two began to smile brighter, “Why do you have that absolutely ridiculous smirk on your face? I’m concerned now.”
“I’ve got an idea on how we’re going to get people involved, because we’re going to need help and lots of it .” He smirked and grabbed his phone, typed something and then sat down. Ten minutes went by and nothing had happened yet until… Beep! Beep! And all of a sudden the phone fell off the table from vibrating so frequently, “Hearing about a legendary king returning brings a ton of people - turns out.”
“I suppose that makes sense, given the fact that there’s so many interpretations of my life. I’m glad that we’re friends even after everything that’s happened, Merlin. Our friendship has always been one of the most important things to me, th-” He got cut off by being grabbed by the arm, and they both ran out the door at the sounds of even more notifications.
“Alright, so where do we go from here? We’ve got an incredible amount of support here, but I feel like we’re still going to need even more of something. I don’t really know what though,” he whipped his head round and was about to start screaming but he got his mouth covered by the other man. “Seriously?” He said, despite it being muffled so it barely sounded like a proper word or question that he had just said.
“Listen to me, I know what I’m doing more than you, I have more military experience. Wait… No, I don’t. You’ve been alive longer than me, sorry. I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore, please forgive me.” Arthur said, surprising the other completely. “Also, one last thing I need to tell you, Merlin, again.”
“Yeah, what is it?” Merlin smiled at his friend, secretly concerned about what he was about to say but still intrigued nonetheless. The silence slowly but surely killing him, he didn’t know what was going to be said but he knew it wasn’t going to be a stupid love confession. The smile began to fall but incredibly, painfully slowly from his face slightly as he almost began to cry, and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere-
“-Thank you.”