Chapter Text
The first thing he noticed was the light, before he even opened his eyes. The second was the air entering his body through his nose, filling him up. The third was the grass beneath him and the mist around him.
Slowly, Arthur opened his eyes, realizing now he was on his knees, his head bent down. It was as if he couldn’t support his body weight. Much later, with his head clearer, he would be able to tell he felt bewildered, but at this moment, nothing went by his head. Only the light and the air. Grass around his fingers, cold mist around him.
He moved his fingers on the grass and something cold touched his little finger – he looked at his hand, trying to find what he had touched. Beside his hand was his sword, laying on the grass. He moved to grab it, on instinct, suddenly worried about his strange surroundings and blankness of his head.
Just as his hand moved to grab the sword, though, the object moved by itself. It flew out of Arthur’s grasp, to some point in front in him. Gathering all the strength he could, Arthur steadied his hands and moved his head up, searching for what had made his sword move in such an unusual way.
In front on him stood a man, sword (Arthur’s sword) in hand, pointing towards Arthur. The light was bright in his eyes and Arthur needed a moment to adjust to it, squinting, trying to see the man's face.
Slowly, his eyes got used to the light and he could see clearly – the man in front of him wore strange clothes, with fabrics he had never seen before, clashing with Arthur’s own armor and cape.
It took another moment for Arthur to put a name to the face he was seeing – the hair was slightly longer than he was used to, the face not as clean shaved as before, but the strangest were the eyes. The eyes that used to be kind, that Arthur knew so well from being close to him for over a decade, were now cold. Merlin, he now realized, stared at him, sword in hand, as if Arthur was a stranger or an enemy.
Merlin, he opened his mouth to speak, what is the meaning of this? But no sound came from his mouth, as if his voice wasn’t ready to come out.
“Who are you?” Merlin questioned, his voice still the same, but in a tone Arthur couldn’t recall ever hearing from him.
Confusion took over the comfort he had felt when seeing a familiar face. Did Merlin not realize who he was? “Wh–“ Arthur tried speaking, forcing his voice to come out “What do you mean?”
Merlin’s expression grew even stranger (was that anger? Arthur asked himself, not used to seeing that emotion coming from his manservant), his hand tightened around the sword as he took a step closer, the sword now almost touching Arthur’s chest as Merlin looked down upon him.
“Who are you?” He asked again.
Your King, Merlin! King Arthur of Camelot! he wanted to say, but all that came out was “Arthur”, softer than he intended.
A laugh (if he could even call it that, seeing as he still looked angry) came out of Merlin, coming even closer now, the sword touching his chest “You must not know who I am to play tricks like that on me.”
A knot formed in Arthur’s throat, along with a heavy weigh on his stomach. Fear? Arthur pushed it all down, a rush coming through his body as he gathered the energy to steady himself on his knees, hands resting on his legs “I’m not playing any trick, Merlin, it’s me.” His voice still not as strong as he’d like.
Merlin’s expression didn’t soften.
“Okay.” He said, pressing the tip of the sword on Arthur’s chest once again “How did we meet?”
Arthur’s memory was foggy, his thoughts all over the place, but he concentrated, trying his best to find the memory Merlin asked.
“You- you insulted me and I tried to take your head off with a mace.” The words came easy to him “You stopped me with magic.”
Merlin’s cold expression changed, not exactly letting his guard down, but Arthur could tell something had changed after what he said.
“What was the last thing Arthur said to me?” Merlin asked, his voice now not as steady as before.
Arthur’s head was still foggy, memories unclear, but the next words came as easy as the last sentence “I said ‘thank you’”.
Merlin’s arm dropped, not letting go of the sword, but not in a fighting pose anymore. His mouth opened with a gasp as he knelt in front of Arthur, putting both in the same eye level.
A hand touched his own, warm. Merlin was looking deep into his eyes, as if searching for something “Arthur?” He asked.
Arthur turned the hand Merlin was holding, retributing the hold “I told you.”
Closer now, Arthur could see Merlin’s face better – the same as he knew, but different at the same time. He couldn’t tell exactly why, if it was the strange clothes or the hair, or if was something else. Merlin’s eye’s traveled Arthur’s face, his hand tight around Arthur’s.
“Where are we?” Arthur asked, feeling his voice stronger now.
Merlin still seemed to search for something on Arthur’s face, his hand still strong against Arthur’s as he responded “Avalon”.
Avalon.
A sudden rush of thoughts went through Arthur. Mordred. A sword forged in a dragon’s breath. Morgana. Pain. Avalon.
“You made it.” He muttered “Merlin, we made it! I’m well. I’m alive!” They had made it to Avalon in time. He must have passed out on the last few moments, but Merlin had taken him to the lake and saved him. They had won the war.
At the same time he had these realizations, Arthur saw Merlin’s face fall. He was now looking at their hands, his grip now even stronger.
“Merlin” Arthur asked, “What happened?” He may not be the greatest at reading people, but Arthur prided himself on how knowledgeable he had become ever since becoming king. Something was wrong.
Merlin stared at him once again, his expression once more cold. What could he be hiding? Was this the time for secrets?
Arthur could tell something wasn’t right. There wasn’t any lake in sigh, just grass and mist around them. Merlin looked strange, different than Arthur had ever seen him. What was happening?
“Arthur” Merlin said, softly, “Take a deep breath.”
“Why?” Arthur asked back, becoming quickly anxious with all the secrecy.
“Trust me. Take a deep breath.”
And Arthur did.
Just as he was inhaling, he felt a pull in his gut. The world seemed to turn fast and faster by the second. He felt dizzy, his vision was now blurry. The only real feeling was Merlin’s hand against his own.
Suddenly, everything stopped.
Merlin let go of his hand, standing up and waking away from Arthur.
Where are you going? he wanted to ask, but wasn’t able.
They weren’t at Avalon (or what Merlin said had been Avalon) anymore. They were at a building of some kind.
Still on the ground, Arthur took in his surroundings – a cottage, maybe? No, it was too big. The walls didn’t seem to be made of wood. It was all too white, the space too big.
Finally finding strength on his legs, Arthur stood. It was definitely a room of some kind. “Where are we?” He found himself asking once again.
Merlin was now stood by a window, his eyes closed.
“Merlin” No answer. “Merlin, where are we?”
Merlin opened his eyes and looked at Arthur “We are at a house. Near Avalon.” His voice had almost no emotion in it, “We didn’t make it Arthur.”
Annoyed and confused, Arthur had had enough “Merlin, be clear! Where is Lake Avalon? What are you wearing? Did you magic us to this room? Take us to Camelot immediately!” All the words came out so fast, Arthur barely thought about them before speaking. Why couldn’t Merlin just tell the truth for once?
“You died, Arthur.” Merlin spoke, his voice still emotionless, which didn’t reflect at all what Arthur felt as he heard those words, “We didn’t make it.”
“Merlin…” Arthur started, but was quickly cut by Merlin, who continued talking “You died and now you are back. Once and Future King. Future. Simple as that.”
It didn’t seem simple at all.
Merlin was no longer the man Arthur knew. That, he knew for sure. But apparently, nothing was the same he knew.
Arthur sat on a couch near where he had been standing, head on his hands, trying to take it all in. A prophecy. Immortality. Fifteen hundred centuries. Death. Resurrection. Slowly, his head became less foggy. Before, it seemed as if his and Merlin's trip to Avalton had been only moments ago. Now, there was a gap.
You’d think it was all as ordinary as a hunting trip, by the way Merlin explained it to him. How could Merlin be so calm?
Arthur felt his blood rushing through his veins, his heart beating fast, his breath faster than ever, but almost no air coming in. His hands tingled and the knot on his throat came back. He wanted his sword back (the sword Merlin had been holding, where was it now?), he wanted to grab it and cut open everything around him.
Guinevere’s face appeared on his mind, and he couldn’t hold back the tears that ran down his face. What had happened to his wife?
Merlin entered the room once again (when had he left?), a box of some kind on his arms. “I have to go.” He exclaimed.
Go? Where could you possibly go that is more important than the whole world falling apart? Arthur wanted to ask, but didn’t have time before Merlin kept talking.
“There are somethings in the box that you might find interesting. Some records about Camelot. Some of your possessions. A book written about ten centuries ago about your family – they didn’t ask for my supervision, of course, but it’s very close to reality.” Merlin put the box by Arthur’s feet and flicked his hands, making some cloths appear “Here are some clothes for you, I’m sure you can figure out yourself how to get dressed – oh, of course” he flicked his hand once again and Arthur felt his armor get loose “There you go. Now I have to go.”
Anger rose through Arthur’s body as he stood, taking steps towards Merlin, who stepped back the same amount of steps “You will not go anywhere! You will stay here and explain to me what the hell is happening!” He shouted, but Merlin’s face didn’t move.
“I already have explained, Arthur.” He said calmy, angering Arthur even more, “Now I have to go, but I will be back very soon.”
Arthur opened his mouth to scream once again, but Merlin was faster – his eyes glowed as he turned around and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore.
Not a thought went by his head anymore. Arthur closed his hands in fists and punched the closest wall. And punched again. And again.
When his hands were red with blood and he couldn’t see anymore due to the tears, Arthur fell on his knees next to the box Merlin had brought.
He didn’t want to see it.
He wanted it gone.
He wanted the Merlin he knew back. He wanted to go to Camelot. To see Guinevere. To see his people. To go home.
With a fist, he punched the box.
Arthur got closer to the couch once again and sat on the floor in front of it. He put his head on his knees and once again felt the tears on his face.
Later, Arthur couldn’t tell how much, Merlin came back.
“Hi.” Arthur heard Merlin say, his voice low, close to him.
He felt, rather than saw, Merlin slid down on the floor next to him.
“Where did you go?” Arthur muttered.
He heard Merlin sigh and added “Please, Merlin.”
Merlin explained and Arthur watched the small space between their feet, “The prophecy said you would return when Albion’s need was the greatest. I’m not sure why that is now. Albion doesn’t even exist anymore.” Arthur wanted to ask what he meant, but didn’t have the energy, “And I was also scared.”
That sentence made Arthur turn his head, still on his knees, to face Merlin, whose own face was staring straight at the wall in front of them. It was the first time seeing him after the initial shock. Merlin looked...good. Grown up but not older. His posture exposed much more confidence than what Arthur was used to. His eyes don't leave Merlin's face while he explains.
“I have waited so long for you Arthur. Centuries. Over a Millennium.” Merlin continued, and now Arthur could see his hands were shaking, but Merlin tried hiding it by clutching his knees “No one could tell when you would come back. Or if you even would. What if we had interpreted the prophecy wrong? It’s been known to happen.” Merlin’s voice was shaking, and Arthur felt his own breathing shake with it, “I have lived many lives, Arthur. Met many people. Learned all there is to learn. Seem the whole world. I’m tired.” He brought his hands to his face, palms against his eyes. Arthur wanted to take them off, he wanted to see Merlin’s face. “I had almost given up hope you would ever come back. We have gone through many wars. Some magical, some not. The world has been in danger again and again. You never came. Why now?”
Arthur didn’t know what to think of those questions. He felt drained, so tired, not a single thought on his head stayed for longer than a second.
Merlin took a deep breath and turned to look at Arthur, continuing “I’m not the same person I was, Arthur. And now you’re here. What I’ve been waiting for my whole life.” Arthur felt like he had no air in his lungs “What will we do?”
Merlin turned his eyes back to the wall in front of him. They stayed there, sitting by each other. What else could they do?