He dreamed of fire and steel-of magic and a pair of brilliant, gold eyes.
They were the same dreams he'd dreamed of since he was small. He remembered he used to wake up crying for his mother, (or for whoever his hero had been in his dreams) scrambling into his mother's arms and shaking while she petted him and sang. When he turned eight, his father told him he was too old to have his mother comforting him every time he cried-that if he was going to be a man he needed to tuck that fear away-to not feel it or let it affect him in any way. So he stopped calling for her and would spend the rest of his nights lying awake in bed until it was a suitable time for him to get up.
He was twelve when his mother got sick and he regretted not spending all of that time he'd wasted letting her hold him at night as she died a slow death in that hospital bed.
Ygraine Pendrick lay in bed for several weeks in pain, slowly fading away while he held her hand and tried to be strong for her, like she'd always been for him. She'd been strong enough to beat the cancer she'd been struggling with for the last year and he prayed she would be able to defeat the illness pursuing her now as well.
She eventually succumbed to pneumonia after five weeks of fighting. The doctors said he was lucky to have spent that much time with her, but he hadn't felt lucky, still didn't.
The last couple weeks of her life, Ygraine had hardly recognized the face of her son and would frantically call out to her husband and ask for Arthur even though he remained sitting next to her (would hardly leave her side for food or even to go to the bathroom out of fear she would suddenly take a turn for the worst while he wasn't there). It broke his heart to hear her calling for him, he wanted to give her whatever she wanted and had always hated when she got upset for whatever reason. She'd been everything to him, his best friend, and his comfort when his father asked too much from him-his beautiful and forever kind mother.
Uther Pendrick had only grown angrier and sterner with her passing, for she had been the light of his life and only love. Nothing could console him.
Arthur didn't even bother trying after a while.
The dreams got worse, of course. Used to, they would be filled with fighting and terrifying creatures, but also something else-friendship and a powerful bond. A raven haired boy with golden eyes and magic flowing from his pale fingertips who would always swoop in and save him; protect him from the evil endlessly dogging his steps. The boy stopped appearing after his mother's death and it was like being abandoned all over again-he was all alone to face the constant tormenters in his dreamscape and his reality alike.
He aged by his lonesome in his big house full of the strangers his father had hired to maintain it and him while the man spent all his time away on business or locked in his study. The maids would talk amongst themselves about the strict man and his quiet, odd son the man refused to talk to.
Eventually, the boy became what society had labeled a man, though still not the type of man his father wanted so he ran off to college. He'd made average grades in school, nothing that could get him a scholarship, but his mother had left him more than enough money to get him into any college of his choosing. He picked a local college anyways, telling himself he wanted to stay close to the family crypt his mother was encased in. Truthfully, that was only a part of it. The other part was he wasn't sure he could survive on his own and he hoped everyday his father would reach out to him. He hoped the man would remember that he actually had a son and would want to see him. It was a foolish hope and he knew it. His father saw him as weak and useless, but he had a feeling even if he wasn't that way he still wouldn't be good enough for Uther.
Arthur felt like he should be different-had once been different. Happier, maybe, more outgoing and independent? He felt like he once had friends, but knew he'd never made any in this life besides Ygraine.
He tried to be different than this shell of a person he felt like. When he first began college he'd tried talking to people and smiling more. That plan had failed spectacularly. The other students there had known from the start that he came from money and judged him based solely on that and his looks. Everyone who hadn't avoided him, assuming he was a pompous arse had tried befriending him for all the wrong reasons.
He'd just stopped socializing at all after a while, though he was ashamed to admit he'd gone along with some of his so call friends for a lot longer than he should have, even after he knew they didn't actually like him at all. Whatever life he'd dreamed up was not the life he was living now. Now he was just a rich, lonely boy who dreamed too often of death and things that did not exist when his eyes were open.
=3
He was standing indecisively out in the hall of his classroom while he thought about whether or not he should go home for Christmas when he first caught sight of him.
The guy seemed to be about his age except taller and skinnier, his dark hair just long enough to curl over his forehead and around his ridiculously large ears. He was breathtakingly pale and his eyes were as blue as the piece of sea glass his mother had bought for him while they were visiting the beach one year. He still wore it around his neck, along with any other jewelry his mother had ever bought him.
What was most interesting and equally terrifying about this guy, and what stood out the most to Arthur, was the fact that he had seen him before. In fact, he'd seen him many times before, but only in his dreams wielding magic and tripping over his own feet. The only difference between this man and the one he vividly remembered was the one in his dreams had gold eyes instead of striking blue. Real people don't have bright glowing, gold eyes.
This didn't stop him from staring. He wasn't sure what he thought might happen when he felt that sensation of hope and longing flare up in his chest. Maybe he was hoping this fellow would see him and whisk him away on the back of a dazzling white horse and take him away to do better things with his life. This was not what happened. Instead the man caught him staring and froze, his blue eyes widening as something crossed over his face that Arthur didn't understand. Was it disgust?
Arthur looked back down quickly, cheeks flushing hot as he scurrying towards the stairs and determined not to look back at the mysterious stranger no matter what.
He'd seemed older than he had first thought, though his face seemed youthful. Those blue eyes were deep pools of sorrow and cleverness, though the ungainliness of his limbs seemed to portray him as something different at first glance. Those were the eyes of someone who'd seen too much-who knew too much of the world's secrets.
Oddly enough, before he had put his head down, he had noticed what he'd thought to be recognition in the man's sad eyes.
Maybe he's dreamed of me, too.
But what would he know of it.
=3
He did end up going home for the Christmas holiday after a week of dwelling on it. He hadn't seen the mysterious man since the hallway and was feeling oddly depressed about it, moping about his dorm room feeling disgustingly alone since his roommate had already left for home without so much as a goodbye. He and his roommate didn't really get along well, not that Arthur had tried to engage in any conversation whatsoever-so he couldn't complain too much about it since he was partly to blame.
He immediately regretted the decision to come home the second he walked through his front door. The house wasn't decorated at all with anything festive and was cleared except for two staff members who gave him odd looks when he walked in through the front door before going about their business, dusting and flittering about trying to look busy.
His father came walking down the stairs looking distracted with his briefcase in hand and dressed in a nice button up, slacks, and sweater vest, long, wool coat slung over his arm-something he always picked to wear when he had a long flight.
"Ah, Arthur." Uther said once he reached the bottom, face clear of any emotion as he kept on the path for the front door. "Good, your home. Keep the house safe for me while I'm gone, would you?" A zing of hope went through him. The words were an old inside joke between them that they'd used before mother's death, back when they actually spoke to one another. 'Keep the house safe, son', Uther would say and smile because, really, what could Arthur do that the security guard and heavy metal gate couldn't?
"Are you going on a business trip, father? Will you be home before Christmas?" He asked, giving a polite smile.
Uther scowled and he pulled open the front door, letting the chill and a few snow flurries in. "What business is it of yours, boy? I'll be home when I damn well please." He snapped. Only a few words to his son and he'd already grown annoyed with the boy.
The callous man slammed the door behind him and Arthur deflated, the smile having slipped off his face with his father's rebuttal. Christmas alone was nothing new, really, but he had hoped his father had at least missed him a little while he'd been away and would be happy to see him. He realized now that was a silly thought. What had there been to miss? They'd never seen each other while they lived in the house together anyways; moving into the dorms on campus was no different than him being home.
Well, Christmas was in three days, he figured he would do what he always did and just buy a lot of junk food and watch movies on the telly. So, he gathered back up his coat and decided to walk to the grocery a few blocks away.
This was where the second meeting with the mystery guy took place.
The walk to the store had been a lot colder than he'd planned on. He was more of a fan of summer, anyways, so when he entered the store all he'd been paying attention to was warming up his frozen fingers as he absently grabbed a few items from the shelves and tucked them underarm.
He went stiff when the voice reached him, fingers sitting absently in front of his mouth mid-blow as he listened.
"Merlin, really, I don't see the difference between one can of cranberry sauce and another!" A gruff voice growled in annoyance. Merlin, he knew that name.
"It does make a difference, Gwaine, that's why I'm picking it. And really, you idiot, if you can't tell the difference, why do you care which one I pick?" He knew the name Gwaine, too, he knew he did, but what made him finally glance up was that voice. 'You idiot', he knew them, that voice was ringing through his head like a song he couldn't remember the words to, and it hurt deep in his chest to hear it.
It was that raven haired man from the college; he must live around here, too. He stood in front of the canned foods with a gruffer looking man with long hair that just brushed the tops of his shoulders and facial hair. He could remember this man faintly, along with dragons and a daring rescue- fighting words, teasing, and a harsh fondness.
Arthur found it odd, the feeling he got seeing them teasing each other and smiling. I belong there. But he didn't, he knew them in his head and it only made him ache for their companionship because he had no one else to yearn for. They were familiar to him, they'd liked him in his dreams, had been his friends.
He was staring again. And he got caught, again.
Gwaine saw him first, and caught his gaze with an odd look, slapping Merlin on the shoulder to get his attention. He felt like he was being thrust and held under water when those blue eyes met his once more.
"I warn you, I've been trained to kill since birth." "Wow. And how long have you been training to be a prat?" "You can't address me like that." "Sorry. How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?"
"When do I ever hit you?" "All the time." "That's not hitting, Merlin. It's merely friendly slaps. It's horseplay." "So, can I give you a friendly slap?"
"I want you to swear to me what you're telling me is true." "I swear it's true." "Then I believe you."
"Listen to me!" "You know me, Merlin, I never listen to you."
"I had no idea you were so keen to die for me". "Trust me, I can hardly believe it myself."
"Well, I know you. And you're a great warrior. One day you'll be a great King." "That's very kind of you. "But you must learn to listen as well as you fight." "Any more pointers?" "No. That's it. Just... don't be a prat."
"Baby rats? They don't sound so bad –""They feast on human flesh." "Maybe we should go over the mountains…"
"What if my father's attitude to magic is wrong?" "You really think that?" "Perhaps it's not as simple as he would have us believe. Morgause is a sorcerer, she's caused us no harm. Surely not everyone who practices magic is evil?"
"It is your fate to be the greatest King Camelot has ever known, and your victory today will be remembered for every age until the end of time." "There are times, Merlin, when you display a sort of - I don't know what it is. I want to say- it's not wisdom. But yes, that's what it is. Don't look so pleased, the rest of the time you look like a complete idiot."
"Look at what you've got." "What?-""You... and me." "Merlin, what exactly are you going to do?" "I'm going to be at your side - like I always am, protecting you." "God help me."
"Merlin. It's a new day. You've been here all night?" "I didn't want you to feel that you were alone." "You're a loyal friend, Merlin."
"Simpleminded fool?" "Oh, I was being kind, believe me. You almost got me killed in there." "Me? You seemed to be doing a pretty good job of that yourself." "What is wrong with you? Why can you never just let me be?" "I'm your friend! I was just looking out for you!"
"You're dressed!" "Yes, Merlin, I'm not an idiot!" "Are you sure about that?"
Blood and bodies, screaming-a flash of betrayal that grew over time until that betrayal was expected. A responsibility too mighty to conquer on his own. Fear, his and the people's around him-their fear and pain-it was his duty to protect them, to protect all of them. It was so much, he was so angry though he tried not to be. Everyone betrayed him eventually. Everyone left him eventually-they expected so much from him and it was so much and they got so angry when they found he was just a man and couldn't live up to their hopes. Everyone except for-
Merlin.
Arthur hadn't even realized he'd closed his eyes. Someone was standing in front of him, asking if he was alright and he opened his eyes to see Merlin looking worried and reaching out like he wanted to touch him, long, graceful fingers hovering over his shoulder as if requesting permission. It was too much, his head hurt, his body shivering though he seemed to be sweating suddenly and he had to get out. Had to get away-get home to his empty house where no one expected anything of him. Home to where he wasn't responsible for anyone dying because he wasn't good enough-never good enough.
"S-sorry," He mumbled, stumbling back. At some point, he'd dropped the few bags of chips he'd been holding under his arms and he left them where they'd fallen on the floor. "I'm fine, sorry about that." Merlin was reaching for him again, looking like he wasn't going to hesitate to grab ahold of him this time-fingers reaching for his wrist-he gave an apologetic smile and ran for the doors.
"Arthur!" They yelled-they knew his name, too? - But he kept going until he was outside, shoes crunching on the icy sidewalk. It wasn't a dream, they weren't dreams! They couldn't be, unless he was going insane.
Arthur Pendrick- Arthur Pendragon? What the hell was he, a reincarnation? But his father, he'd seen him in the long flash of memory, as well as Gwaine and Merlin. Were they all reincarnations?
He slipped on some ice just a short ways from his house and he went down hard, busting his arse and soaking himself in snow. Shit. His cheeks were wet and cold, he'd been crying since the store. Well, that's embarrassing. Merlin and Gwaine had seen him cry-and if he was in fact crazy and he was somehow unconsciously making all this up in his head just to escape from his lonely life or whatever, then they were probably wandering what the hell was wrong with that weird guy staring at them and crying in the middle of the grocery store.
Wincing, he picked himself up off the sidewalk and brushed his backside off as well as he could before continuing home at a much more reasonable pace.
This was ridiculous, all that time spent thinking he was supposed to be someone better and the whole time he'd been subconsciously aspiring to be King Arthur of Camelot? No wonder he was so dissatisfied with the person he was now, he could never live up to be that. He could never be that person, again, if he had ever been before. Even if he wanted to be for Merlin, he couldn't be that confident or brave. Hell, he couldn't even act that spoiled, really, though he'd never been short on any possessions he desired in the material world. Truthfully, he would've much preferred his father to actually like him over whatever the man could buy him.
If they were reincarnated, or whatever-if they had the same dreams or memories of him, he would disappoint them. They would want their old friend back and just be stuck with him. He wore glasses for goodness sake. He'd traded out armor and fine silks for oversized sweaters and sweats, which he was wearing right now-oh lord they'd seen him in his shitty sweats.
The house was quiet when he got there, besides the sound of someone vacuuming in the living room. He'd been hoping to avoid anyone seeing him like this, dried tears and puffy eyes, but he'd left his duffle bag of laundry resting on the leather couch in there and he wanted to change out of his clothes. He was going to just shoot a quick smile at the maid and grab his stuff. The moment he saw the maid who was occupying the room he froze again, a cold realization trailing down his spine when he caught sight of her face.
She'd been working for his father for a few months now and was only a year or so older than Arthur himself. She had long, dark curls that were usually braided while she worked and her eyes were intense beneath her sculpted eyebrows. Her face was of pale, porcelain and he knew most would call her beautiful-he would too if not for the coldness that radiated off of her. He'd never paid attention to her before today and the only reason he noticed her now was for the stroke of heady betrayal and fear she sent through him.
Morgana-though he was fairly sure she was known as Morgan in this lifetime. Coupled with his other feelings sitting hot and uncomfortable in his gut was a sense of longing, she'd been his friend-his sister. They'd grown up together, played together. Shit, was she his half-sister in this life, too?
Morgan glanced up and he looked away quickly, heading over to his duffle on the couch. His eyes kept glancing over in her direction and every time he found she was still watching him with a cold, calculating look. "Arthur?" She spoke suddenly and he flinched slightly at her curious tone. "Oh, you do remember me now, don't you? Good. I was getting tired of playing house."
Some deep-rooted instinct told him to duck and roll out of the place he was standing, though he'd never done the move before, never been given a reason to. He executed it perfectly, managing to get out of the way just as a bolt of electricity struck the wall where it would've caught him in the back of his skull and fried his brain. There was a violent, smoking black stain on the wall, the scent of burning ozone clinging to the tense air in the room. I almost died. He swallowed down his panic, finally meeting Morgan's gaze head on.
"What are you doing?" He stumbled, "Why are you doing this?"
"Don't be such an idiot, Arthur." She snarled nastily, pulling the ties out of her hair and letting the strands go free to cascade down her back in a mess of waves. Really, Morgana? You have to let your hair down first before you kill me? She was still so dramatic. "You know why. I'm so glad you finally fully remembered, cleaning up after you and your putrid father was getting tedious. I was so close to just ending you, but I'm glad I waited. It wouldn't have been as much fun with you like you were."
She lashed out again, giggling as he scrambled to get out the way. He didn't make it all the way this time. It smacked him in the right shoulder and he could immediately smell burnt flesh as he cried out, the force of the hit twirling him as he went down. The pain was excruciating and he gripped the wound tightly with his other hand, wishing for relief. He didn't want to die-he'd just seen Merlin again. He wanted to talk to him, at least, to get his friend to like this side of him as much as he had before.
He wanted that chance.
Arthur shot to his feet, running towards Morgan at full speed and he could tell by her face she had not been expecting him to do that. She quickly raised her hand, but he stayed low-felt the ball of power come so close to the top of his head that his hair stood up on end just before he launched himself into her gut and sent them both hurdling into an end table. There was a loud crash and the girl screamed before falling silent and he looked down praying for no blood-please don't let her-
Their combined weight had smashed the table, sending table legs and wood everywhere from beneath where Morgan lay. She was unconscious, but still breathing, her hair splayed out around her head. Feeling around her skull, he checked for blood but found none and gave a sigh of relief. She just had a bump on the head and would probably have one nasty headache when she woke up, but she was alive and so was he.
He felt a surge of proudness go through him. He'd never been in a fight before or anything of the sort but he'd taken out a sorceress all on his own. He resisted the urge to fist pump and do a victory dance, but mostly only because he was feeling a little dizzy.
His shoulder burned and ached and he took a minute before finally getting back to his feet, swaying slightly as he headed for his duffle once more, this time without interruptions. She was not going to be happy when she woke up and he figured back at school would be the safest place for him right now, so he swung his bag up onto his good shoulder. However, when opening the front door to leave, he was met with none other than Merlin and Gwaine on his stoop, Merlin's hand raised as if about to knock.
Their eyes went wide in surprise, and Arthur was sure he was wearing the same expression as he took a step back into the house on impulse. "Merlin? What the hell-?"
"You do remember." The man said in awe and his eyes grew shimmery in emotion. "I thought you might've at the school, but, well you kept walking. And then at the grocery, I could see it in your eyes, but you ran, and I just had to know-"
"We-you have to go. Really, we need to get out of here-"She was going to wake up, eventually, would she attack Merlin, too? Did he have his magic in this lifetime as well?
Merlin's face crumpled in hurt and Gwaine looked suddenly thunderous. "Go? But, I've been waiting for you, I don't understand. Don't you want to see me? The rest of your friends?"
"No, no, no-I mean yes, I do! But you don't-look we, I said a collective we need to get away from this house-"
"What the hell's wrong with your shoulder, princess?" Gwaine demanded gruffly from his spot behind Merlin. Merlin's blue eyes glanced down and his whole demeanor seemed to change when he saw the damage done to his shoulder.
"Who did that to you?" He growled and his eyes lit up, the color of liquid gold and Arthur was momentarily transfixed. "Arthur, what happened?"
"That's what I've been trying to say." He huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. He immediately regretted it, wincing as he let them fall back to his sides. "Morgana's inside and she's knocked out but we need to go before she wakes up."
Merlin reached out to touch his burned skin and he flinched slightly before making himself ease. This was Merlin. He recognized those eyes from all his dreams as a child and they meant safety, protection. Merlin paused in his movements, staring back into Arthur's eyes-waiting until he felt the blonde relax before he pulled his shirt open a little to see the blackened skin of his shoulder. Merlin and he both grimaced when they saw it. It was ugly, a circle of charred black surrounded by raw, and bleeding muscle. Gwaine made a sympathetic, angry sound that seemed to almost tear itself free from his throat.
Merlin's eyes were stained a permanent gold, livid as they took in the seared skin. "I'll kill her." He said lowly and Arthur shuddered to hear it. He loves me. He cares for me, wants to hurt those who hurt me. It'd been that way before, too.
This is what he'd always wanted, just for someone to care whether or not he was suffering.
"I'm not him, you know." He admitted sadly, feeling giddy with want. "I'm different. I could try for you, but I'm not."
They were giving him weird looks and Merlin laid a cool hand against the side of his neck and he shuddered against the touch. "Jesus, Arthur, you always have to do things the hard way don't you? He's going to go into shock, Gwaine, and I'm not so great at healing spells. We have to get him to the hospital."
"Right." The other man said, stepping close to Arthur. He gave a big, teasing smile. "Do you want me to carry you, your royal highness?"
"God, no." He moaned. "I can walk I think. If you would just let me lean on you." He could tell by both their faces this was an odd thing for their Arthur to say and he knew by his memories it was. Their Arthur was wholly stubborn and would deny needed help until unconsciousness or worse. But he wasn't him and sadly enough he liked human touch when he was sick or hurt (more like anytime, really) and he never got it these days so he figured he should soak it up where he could.
Looking slightly more worried now, Gwaine threw his arm-the one on his uninjured side, of course-over a firmly muscled shoulder, gripping him around the waist as he drew him close and began the walk down the driveway. Merlin stayed close, his hand never losing contact with Arthur though it also never stayed in one place.
"How did you get past security?" He wandered as they came up on the gate.
"Magic." Merlin answered with a proud smirk and Arthur didn't doubt him for a second. The guard they passed by was sitting reading book from inside the small office where they kept all the security feeds. He didn't look up from his book as the gates opened for them and closed behind them again.
"That's pretty neat." Merlin's smile got bigger, his pale cheeks turning a little pink. The man's emotions were all over the place and hard to pinpoint. He was smiling big and happy but his brow was still creased with worry and righteous anger. Arthur had never met anyone better-had never seen anyone with so much light and energy coming off them since his mother and he couldn't help but be completely entranced.
Personally, he was so happy, he wasn't sure what to do, laugh insanely or have a seizure. Both! He had friends. Sure they might not like him anymore once they actually started talking to him, but they were here now. And he was already quite attached. It would be heartbreaking to suddenly not have Merlin's big, goofy grin or Gwaine's gruff teasing in his life ever again.
I want to keep you. He thought and grinned back at Merlin before everything went dark.
=3
"I had to carry you anyways, you know."-Was the first thing he heard when he opened his eyes to a disgruntled Gwaine standing above him with his arms crossed over his chest.
Arthur rolled his eyes, wincing as he sat up slowly. "You poor thing, you."
"And you just about gave Merlin a heart attack." Now he felt a little guilty. He hadn't meant to pass out, hadn't even seen it coming, really.
"Where is Merlin?" He asked, hoping he didn't sound too desperate. Gwaine's smile told him he did, unfortunately.
"He stepped out to call the others. He's not going to be happy you chose to wake up the moment he left."
Dammit. He rolled his eyes again and lay back down, taking in the hospital room he was in. It all looked completely normal-he was quite familiar with hospital rooms-except for the flowers and cards that sat covering every flat surface in his room. His mouth dropped open-there was so many-and he shot a look at Gwain who just shrugged.
"Merlin bought quite a few, made me buy one, and Gwen and her brother brought some in. I'm not sure where everyone else's is going to go, I guess on the floor? But you know Merlin, mate; he just went kind of overboard."
He choked down a sob and Gwaine's head snapped over in his direction, so he pounded on his chest trying to pass it off as a cough. Dear Lord, this was too much for him, they'd all been friends-close friends before dying but this-Merlin had bought the bulk of the items in the room? For him? And more people were coming to see him-to re-meet him and see how he was doing and bring him things. Was that a stuffed dragon sitting on the bedside table beside him? It was cute, big green eyes looking dolefully at him and it's fuzzy outside colored a dazzling blue and gold.
He immediately named it Emrys in his head, half because it was funny, but mostly because of its expression and vivid coloring reminded him of Merlin.
Arthur had picked it up and settled in his lap, playing with the sequined wings while avoiding Gwaine's eyes when Merlin finally swooped in through the door. His eyes were a mixture of fondness and uncensored joy when he caught sight of Arthur lying awake in the hospital bed, and absolute annoyance when he saw Gwaine.
"He's awake and you didn't think to come get me?" He punctuated the sentence with a swift slap to the back of Gwaine's head and the other man whirled in indignation.
"He's only been awake for a few minutes!" He grumped, rubbing the back of his head as he pouted forlornly. "Plus, you said not to leave him alone."
Merlin scoffed, shoving him slightly and coming to stand next to Arthur's bed. "Hi." He grinned chirpily, eyes going to the dragon in his lap. "You like him? He's cute, right? Did you name him?"
"Sure did. Thank you." He choked, though this time it was to stop himself from laughing as he neatly avoided the question. "I really appreciate all this, but you didn't have to buy me anything, you know."
"I know." Merlin said back, eyes twinkling in mirth. "The others will be here soon. They're excited to see you."
Nervousness fluttered through his stomach and he swallowed, shoulder twinging in discomfort as he unconsciously crushed Emrys to his chest. "So, who all did you call?"
Merlin's eyes went wide. "Oh! I'm sorry, Arthur, do you want me to call someone for you? I forgot, the nurse said your dad was listed as an emergency contact, but she couldn't reach him. Did you want me to have a go at it? Or was there anyone else you wanted me to call?"
"No." He snorted, relaxing slightly. He was nervous about meeting everyone from before, but Merlin was here, it would be okay. "No, father's busy and there's no one else to call." Uther did usually answer his phone, but it was probably turned off for the flight. He did ponder having his father here, but it would just end with his own disappointment, most likely.
"No one?" The skin around Merlin's mouth tightened and he reached out suddenly, wrapping his fingers around Arthur's forearm. Gwaine looked a little angry again, but he knew that was the man's default emotion around Arthur. Gwaine sent him a little wave before slipping out of the room and leaving him alone with Merlin for the first time since their stunted meeting in the school hallway. "I was hoping Uther would be better this time around." Merlin said quietly, like he was afraid to upset him, and once upon a time-yes, he probably would've gotten defensive.
"He is, um, different. But not better. After mum passed he just got worse, you know?"
"I'm sorry, Arthur. When did she die?"
"I was twelve, so at least I got a little time with her this time around." He'd hated having her be taken from him, always would, but he would also say he was lucky now. After remembering his past life and that she'd died at childbirth, he was glad he'd gotten to meet that wonderful woman this time around. "What about you? How's your family?"
The sadness faded a little from Merlin's face at the thought of his own family, his hand a warm comfort resting on Arthur while he talked. "Everyone's good. It's a little weird because they weren't really my blood family, but they all remember me finally. I'm actually teaching Gaius magic this time around, but he's better at the healing spells than I am. You'd think I would've mastered it after centuries of practice, but no."
Arthur frowned in confusion. "Centuries of practice?"
"Oh, um, yeah." Merlin laughed quietly, sounding sheepish. "I've been waiting for you to come back. I found the others first and it was great because I'd never expected them to come back, too. But I got worried when you never showed up. I could feel you were somewhere, but I couldn't find you. I'm sorry, Arthur, I tried to find you sooner, I did."
Merlin looked frustrated and genuinely sorry and Arthur's head was being overloaded with so many emotions. "Are you kidding? What-you waited centuries. For me. That's-that's unbelievable, Merlin. I can't even imagine that- so you just don't age?"
"Not so far, no." His cheeks were colored pink, standing out brightly against his alabaster skin and his eyes were turned down. Everything Arthur had seen in his eyes made sense now. Merlin's eyes were shaded with an old sadness that captivated him, that drew him in and held him. How long had he been alone before finding someone?
"I'm different than I was. But I'll do my best to make you happy anyways."
Merlin's old eyes snapped up to meet his. "You keep saying that. You're different than you were. What do you mean?" His tone sounded suspicious and Arthur shrugged nervously.
"I remember the old me and I'd like to be more like that. But I'm not-I'm weird and quiet and I wear glasses. I mean, the bravest I've ever been was when I knocked Morgana on her arse-which was pretty neat after I was sure she wasn't brain dead. I've never been particularly good at anything in my life except reading, I'm good at reading. The only friend I've ever had was my mother and while I'm not ashamed of that, I know it's not exactly normal or considered cool-" A lengthy palm covered his mouth and he fought the instinctual urge to lick it.
"That's the most I've heard you talk, I think and while normally I'd hate to stop you-I don't much approve of how you're speaking. So, shut up, Arthur." Merlin demanded. "I waited for you. I missed you so much, more than I ever thought possible. I missed everything about you-not just the braveness or your honor, but your laugh and your loyalty, I missed everything. I prayed every day to whatever religion I could find-begged whoever would listen to give you back to me. It was better after I began finding the others, but they never recognized me at first and every time-it hurt worse every time it wasn't you. Then, there you were at my college, after all that time and you found me instead. I shouldn't have let you go that day, but I was kind of in shock. I didn't even go to class, I spent the next few days before the break looking for you on campus but no one knew you. And then you found me again in the store. My God, Arthur, whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. I see you every time you move or smile. You're the old Arthur and more, that's all. And frankly, I like the glasses on you. No matter what, you're my Arthur, don't forget that."
Holy shit. Arthur's face felt hot and his eyes itched with the promise of tears if the conversation kept on like this. How was Merlin even real? Stuff like this only happened in books and on television. He was important. He actually mattered to someone-someone was actually happy to see him.
"Oops." Merlin snatched his hand away flushing again. "Sorry."
"You mean it?" He whispered, voice full of wander and longing.
"Of course I do. So what if you're different? I think it'll be fun getting to know you-who you are now."
And what could he say to that? Nothing at the time, he was trying not to start ugly crying all over the place. So, instead Arthur sat up and embraced his friend, burying his face into Merlin's shoulder and ignoring the faint throbbing in his own. Merlin gave a small sound of surprise before hugging back just as tightly, one arm wrapping around his back while the other came up to grip the back of his neck.
"Just so you know," He said quietly, his words tickling the blonde hair on top of Arthur's head. "I'm not letting you out of my sight for a very long time."
"What about when I go to the bathroom?" He teased, his voice just as light.
"Yeah, fine, I guess, but other than that-no way."
"When I'm changing clothes?"
"Fine, but you're pushing it."
Arthur laughed and pulled back, though all he wanted was to burrow himself into Merlin and stay forever. Merlin seemed a little reluctant to let go himself, leaving a hand to rest around his shoulder as he got comfortable sitting on the bed, tossing his feet up into a nearby chair and using it as a foot rest.
=3
He must've fallen asleep at some point because the next time he opened his eyes it was to a room full of familiar people whispering to each other. Their faces were like echoes, his mind supplying names as he took them in. Gwen looked lovely in a deep purple dress from where she leaned against a fond Lancelot, his fingers twirling around her ringlet curls as she smiled up at him.
Arthur stared at them, taking in the relationship that'd broken him the first time around. Thankfully, all he felt now was happiness for them-they were finally free to be together.
Elyan was poking an annoyed Leon, while Percival watched on with a smile. He could feel his own mouth lift into a grin. Merlin and Gwaine were arguing quietly in a corner.
Gwen looked over in his direction and her face lite up in excitement when she saw his eyes open. "Arthur! You're awake!"
He felt himself smile back. He could do this.
Thank you to everyone who reads this, please comment if you have time. ^^ The next chapter is going to be in Merlin's POV up to this point and then the chapters after that will continue back in Arthur's.