Am I Too Late?
Word spread through the kingdom swiftly. Anger and despair touched the hearts of many when they learned that their beloved king was upon his death bed. The people of the kingdom seemed to be mourning before the king had even passed. Despite the sadness, people were confident in their prince, King Arthur's son. They knew he'd be a good, kind king, just as his father was-is.
The anguish of the people was outmatched though, by a solitary man living on the outskirts of a neighboring kingdom. When the news reached the small town of Croatious, this man was stricken. Memories of the past haunted him still, years, a life-time later. He had revealed his deepest secret and for it he had been banished from the land.
The heartbroken man had kept listening to the news of the royal family. He had been elated at the announcement of magic being declared free to use, accepted, and even though he couldn't go back, he was proud of Arthur. Merlin was even more joyful upon hearing of the Kings Son being born.
It was after he had left that he came upon the realization that he did not age, and during his travels, a run in with bandits revealed that he could not die. He was immortal. Due to this, he moved around, always staying close to the kingdom, and offered his services in secret.
His magic was less restricted now, but his heart felt as if a vice had been wrapped around it. When the most recent information from Camelot had reached his ears, the vice tightened tenfold. Merlin knew that despite his order of banishment, he would have to visit the King one last time.
Merlin's journey was abrupt. The few people he knew were quite bewildered when he had left in the span of minutes. He grabbed the nearest horse, packed a change of clothes and threw some food in a bag. He then grabbed his cloak and was gone, the village behind him.
Merlin urged his horse, Kiniel, to a gallop. He only took a break when absolutely necessary. He slept only when the horse required it. His treacherous journey took days though, even at such a swift speed. In Merlin's heart he held the fear that he would not make it in time. He was determined to prove his fears wrong.
Due to his young body, despite his age, Merlin's cloak remained on, whipping in the wind. Merlin passed through and by Camelot's towns but would not stop for anything. If bandits had approached, his magic and made sure that they could not get near him. Nothing could slow him down.
The ride held only fear and worries for Merlin. He passed the time by remembering the older days. The days when Gaius was still alive and when he had been by Arthur's side. He kept coming back to the memory of Arthur banishing him. Merlin knew it was out of anger and the complete lack of trust he had had then and now held within himself. The last words Arthur had spoken to him still resonated in his mind. All of these years you have been by my side and yet I know nothing of you. I once thought I had known you, but… I don't know who you are anymore.
On the eve of the seventh (or was it eighth?) day of travel Merlin made it to the castle. The people milling about looked on in curiosity toward the cloaked figure. Merlin paid no mind as he leapt off of his horse and hurried into the castle, not sparing a glance toward the ever loyal Kiniel.
He skipped stairs on his way to the door, taking them two at a time. The guards at the castle gate moved to stop him, but he swiftly dodged and entered. He pulled the cloaks hood from his face. He heard a familiar gasp from behind him but did not stop to see who it was; he did not even try to figure it out.
He navigated by memory, knowing the location of the King's quarters and the hallways like the back of his hand despite the years passed. He took less common servants paths, quicker routes, so no one would try to stop him.
Upon arriving at the door, he hesitated for one moment, thinking back to his fear of being too late, before opening the door and rushing in. There were only two people in the room, but he didn't look at them. He stared at the bed where a figure lay. The outline through the sheet was oh so familiar, but he could not see their face, the pure white sheet was covering it.
He was too late. His fear had become reality. He sank to his knees, tears slid down his cheeks. Words unspoken and a lifetime of regret bounced around in his head, never reaching his tongue. Alternate scenarios of what could have happened ran amuck within his thoughts. He was so focused on the person on the bed, His Arthur, and his own emotions that he didn't even hear his name being called. He didn't see the tears pouring down Queen Guinevere's face. He didn't even register the astonished young boy. "Is that the Merlin that dad always talked about, that the knights refuse to talk about?"
Merlin only gathered himself when he felt the frail arms of the queen wrap around him. His forever young face peered up at the age weary face of Gwen. Tears stained both of their cheeks. After seconds that felt like forever, seconds of his heart crying out in pain from his chest, the door to the chambers opened and in came two knights.
The astonished whispers of Merlin's name in familiar voices caused Merlin's head to turn. There stood the aged versions of Leon and Elyan. They stared wide eyed at Merlin, unbelieving expressions stuck on their faces. They seemed to be frozen in shock.
The other person who had been in the room witnessing the entire spectacle spoke up once more, "So you are the man from years ago, the one who stood by my father's side with magic; the one who lied about himself to protect the prince of the man who executed his own kind?" The question sounded rhetorical. Merlin looked over to the boy, no man, who sat in an engraved, chestnut chair. His blonde hair and blue eyes made him look almost exactly as his father did all those years ago, but thankfully Gwen's features changed him a bit.
Trying to hide the shock and pain from seeing the similarities of Arthur in this man, Merlin replied with "That would be me, yes." The tear tracks and puffy eyes dissuaded the act of stoicism that Merlin attempted to put out. A nod came back in reply as the young man studied Merlin. "You do not look as old as I expected you to be." A raised eyebrow. A breathy laugh came from behind them. Merlin recognized it as Elyan.
The smallest of chuckles, it almost sounded like a sob, left Merlin's throat. "Just like his father…" Gwen's voice caught in her throat as she finally released him. "Isn't he. His name is Mirche?"
It was that day, seeing the son of Arthur, Mirche, Merlin made a promise that he would protect Arthur's son and his lineage. Even if he was too late, he would make up for it, like he always used to.
Mirche- Derived from the Slavic element miru meaning "peace, world".
I hope you liked my little oneshot! Reviews are welcome! Please point out any grammar or spelling mistakes. Thanks!
-Moyashi :)