New fic. I don't own Merlin. Probably already done. Arthur x Merlin. Gonna be M-Rated. Enjoy.
The sound of swords clanging and soldiers yelling pierced Merlin's eardrums. The stench of blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids burned Merlin's nostrils. The battlefield was a sea of shiny silver, with speckles of red blood and the honorable capes worn by soldiers of Camelot dotted throughout. Merlin could feel everything that was going on below him and he anticipated all the soldiers' moves. He had been here, on this battlefield, in this exact moment, countless times before. He knew when every sword would hit and when every comrade would fall. But all this, the gore, the fighting, the inherent battle of good versus evil, was nothing compared to the agonizing pain he would feel in just a few moments. Then, it came. The familiar voice of a loved one screaming in pain, the feeling of utter fear as Merlin turned and saw the blonde-headed boy he loved so much fall to the ground, and the deafening silence that followed Merlin's realization that he had failed the one he loved most. If only Merlin had been focusing on his main objective.
Merlin woke up to the sound of the alarm on his nightstand blaring. He shut it off and swung his feet over from the bed onto the cool hardwood floor. Merlin bit his lip and tried to keep the tears from coming. Although this nightmare had been occurring almost daily for the past three months, he still hadn't quite gotten used to the terrifying re-enactment of the night Arthur was fatally wounded, even though it happened thousands of years ago. Merlin often had nightmares about Arthur reminding him of his past but they were never as vivid as this. Yet, Merlin did not think these new nightmares meant anything. Too often he had thought something in his life was a sign that Arthur would finally return and every time Merlin's hopes were demolished. He figured it must have been some resurgence of guilt.
Merlin felt a tear run down his cheek and let out a frustrated sigh. He really hated these damn nightmares and it didn't help that he only had another 10 minutes until he had to leave for work. Merlin stood up and walked to the bathroom. He turned on the cold water and splashed it on his face, hoping to calm down a little before he had to leave. He glanced in the mirror and saw his red, puffy eyes, messy hair, and sullen face and wondered just how much longer he could take this. His lack of energy and motivation was threatening his job at the police station. Not that Merlin really cared at all. Merlin had saved up enough money over the years to live a life of luxury for the next five thousand years. Merlin had worked as a farmer, teacher, lawyer, architect, doctor, and janitor amongst other things. He had worked hundreds of jobs over the years but he always stayed in or around the former Kingdom of Camelot so he could be ready if Arthur ever did return. Currently, Merlin was working as a police officer which was dull and awful but Merlin did it for the same reason he did all the other jobs. If he didn't keep some mundane, busy-work job, he would go mad from guilt and impatience. He knew this from experience. Once in the late 1500s, Merlin had decided to abandon any sort of work and instead focus on finding Arthur. He got so frustrated and upset he accidentally caused the Bristol Channel to flood in 1607 and ended up killing dozens of people and destroying acres of land. So, he kept himself busy instead to keep everyone else safe and to keep himself sane. After a few deep breaths, Merlin threw on his uniform, grabbed his keys, and jumped into his car to travel to work.
Three hours into mindlessly reading and summarizing reports for the chief, a sharp bark of "Merlin!" made Merlin jump in his seat. He then rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth in anticipation of the conversation that was about to follow.
"Yes sir?" said Merlin, attempting to keep the aggravation from boiling to the surface.
The chief thundered toward Merlin, stopping only when he was close enough to Merlin for Merlin to count every frown line on his forehead. The chief was a huge advocate of using intimidation to get what he wanted. He was also a big fan of trying to appear larger than he actually was.
"There is a disturbance of peace on 33rd Street. You look like you've been doing nothing useful. Go solve this problem now", the chief stated before whirling around and marching away.
It was almost comical how high and mighty the chief thought he was, but still very irritating to hear him talk like he was a drill sergeant every bloody day. So Merlin took this minor misdemeanor as a welcome break from his asshole boss.
Merlin parked his car at the end of 33rd and stepped calmly out of the car. Most likely this was just a bloke who got really really wasted last night and was still a bit drunk and so he was acting mad midday on a Saturday. Merlin was planning on just letting him off with a warning and then stopping at the Starbucks around the corner to avoid going back to work for a little longer.
But then he heard it.
"Help! Please help! I don't know where I am, I don't know what's going on. Where's Camelot? Where's the castle? Please! Please!"
The dialect was old and strange, but so so familiar to Merlin. And the voice that spoke it was the voice that had been haunting Merlin's nightmares for years.
Merlin was scared to turn around, scared to see if the entire thing was just a figment of his imagination. But he had to, had to, see if it was real.
He turned.
And there, completely naked and vulnerable and desperate, the former King of Camelot was trembling. The king was crouched up into a ball at the very edge of the street. He was covering his face with his arms and gripping his legs tightly. Merlin could see his lungs expand with each deep breath the king took.
Merlin ran, faster than he ever ran before, to get to his king. He could feel the tears streaming down his face, his heart was beating out of his chest, his vision tunneled so that the only thing he could see was this man he had waited for years and years and years. He collapsed in front of the king and held him tightly.
"Arthur," he whispered.
Arthur jerked his head up. "Who? Wha-? Merlin! Thank god!"
Arthur was quick to return the hug and Merlin could feel Arthur tremble less.
"Merlin, what on earth is going on?" Arthur questioned. He released Merlin but kept a strong grip on his shoulders.
Merlin shook his head. "It's too much to explain right now, right here." Merlin looked around the street, noticing the citizens staring at them in confusion. "Here, let's go back to my car and I'll take you to my house."
Arthur gripped Merlin's shoulders more tightly. "Car? What's that? Your house? Where's Gaius? And Guinevere? Merlin.."
"Later", said Merlin cutting his king off. He then gently stood up bringing Arthur with him.
Arthur, close to collapsing from mental exhaustion already, let Merlin lead him to the car without much of a fight. That is until Merlin suggested Arthur get into the metal moving box.
The night that followed reminded Merlin why he hated Arthur with a burning passion when they had first met.