Rewriting the Legend:
A Second Chance
By AshenEclipse
Things were different now. How could they not be, with centuries going by? It had been a gradual change in most aspects, nothing too surprising – technological advancements and societal changes followed a fairly steady path. And though he had lived through it all, sometimes, late at night, Merlin lay awake thinking about just how much things had changed.
It was getting harder, for one, to keep a low profile. It used to be that he could simply move to a different town, magic a few documents. Not anymore. Cameras were everywhere, people posted photos on MyFace for the whole world to see, potential employers checked up on a person on social media. Yes, Merlin could simply magic his appearance, but he happened to like the way he looked. And the enchantment was draining to keep going constantly: he'd rather save his magical reserves for a time when he really needed them.
After all, just because Arthur and Camelot was gone didn't mean there weren't evil magics still lurking. Over the years, they had become fewer and less powerful as people stopped believing in magic – but that didn't mean they were gone entirely.
It was a morning after a restless night that found Merlin flipping through the daily paper looking for help wanted ads. His bank account was lower than he would like – if he had to disappear in a hurry, he didn't think his current funds would last him more than a year. And though Merlin knew how to survive in the wilderness, he had become rather accustomed to the level of comfort the modern world provided.
A sip of tea – he had never developed a fondness for coffee – and a bite of toast later, he found something that caught his eye. A casting call for extras, for a BBC period piece. Not his typical style, though the pay the advertisement was claiming was quite decent. Merlin wasn't interested in being in front of the camera, but he did wonder if they needed assistance behind the scenes. He did have a degree in history – among other things – that might serve as good basis to be a consultant. Yes, he had lived through history, but that wasn't something he could exactly go around saying.
If he could convince them to give him a job behind the scenes, it might prove to be interesting to say the least.
...Merlin didn't pause to wonder why he wanted to have a job as part of a television show. But something inside him convinced him that he needed to give this particular show a chance.
"This isn't right." A woman with dark brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail moaned. She scribbled on the piece of paper, trying to find the perfect way to frame the scene. She had to make sure everything was perfect after all – fresh out of college, she had a chance of a lifetime to be working on this program. She wasn't about to mess things up by not having everything just right. If someone questioned her abilities, even once, she felt as if she might never have another chance.
And she needed the chance to tell this story. It had been something she worked on since she first heard the legends of King Arthur as a child; it called to her in a way she couldn't quite understand. But a deep part of her knew that this was the time to tell this tale, knew that the tale had to be told now, before the chance to tell it was gone for good.
"Miss Liphae?" There was a knock on the door and a secretary popped her head in. "The historical consultant is hear to meet with you."
The dark-haired woman held back a look. It wasn't the historical consultant's fault that the BBC wanted them to meet. The company just didn't understand that she needed no help with the history. She had been learning all she could about the middle ages, about King Arthur, since she was little. She was perfectly capable of doing this all on her own, thank you very much. "Go ahead and let him in." Might as well get this over with.
A young man looking to be about her age came into the room. His dark hair fell messily about his head, as if he had been running his fingers through it recently. His ears stuck out a bit, a trait that gave him a bit of a goofy appearance, yet at the same time made him seem real and human. He had strong cheekbones and a full mouth, his eyes a spellbinding blue. Nothing about him – besides his eyes – was particularly handsome, yet taken together she thought the young man before her was quite perfect.
This is what the main character of the show should look like. She had thought the actor they had found was well enough, but this young man's appearance was perfect. Pity he probably wasn't an actor, and that the contracts had already been signed.
"Mr. Dragune?" She asked, standing up from her desk and holding out a hand. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Morgan Liphae."
He had known before she had spoken who she was. It didn't matter that centuries had passed, that he hadn't seen her since her had driven Excalibur into her flesh. But then, there had been hatred that had course through her very essence. This woman... she reminded him of the Morgana that he had first met in Camelot, the Morgana that would don armor to go help a village in need. The Morgana who wanted to save a young Druid boy who had magic, even against the laws of her guardian.
How had she come to be in this time? Merlin had never met anyone that had been reincarnated from his time in Camelot. For that's surely what had happened – this Morgan was Morgana's reincarnation. Did that mean Arthur, too, was alive once more? That the cycle of prophesy was to begin again?
He wouldn't let the same things happen. He would change the cycle.
Merlin gave a slow smile as the woman held out her hand. For all that she was a modern woman and clearly well-versed in business interactions, Morgan still held hints of Morgana. He hadn't grown to know her so well in Camelot to not remember her subtle facial cues. For example, her current look was one of forced politeness – one that she donned often in Uther's court when meeting people she didn't particularly care to meet.
"Merlin Dragune." He clasped her hand firmly in his. Were this even a half a century earlier, Merlin might have been tempted to bow and kiss her hand – for so many years, that was the proper greeting. But this wasn't then, and bowing over her hand was more likely to offend than charm.
"Merlin?" She asked, raising a brow. To Merlin, it looked like she was also holding back a true smile.
"Yes. My parents were fond of the legend of king Arthur. You can imagine the teasing I got in school." He ran his fingers through his hair, causing it to become even messier than it normally was.
"I can imagine." She sat down once again, that hidden smile still playing about her lips. "I'm guessing you don't know what this show is?" She gestured for him to take a seat as well.
"I was only informed it was period piece from the early Middle Ages." Merlin commented as he sat.
Morgan's hidden smile was no longer hidden. A small chuckle escaped her. "Than you must excuse me for finding your name so amusing. You see, the show is not simply a period piece. It is the story of King Arthur and his court, before he was King Arthur. The main character is Merlin. It may be fate that you are here."
Morgana was writing a show about him? While Merlin wasn't shocked that she would choose this topic, he was surprised she would focus on him. Fate indeed.
His name was Merlin. Now, even more than before, Morgan was convinced he should be the lead of the show. "I don't suppose you happen to have any acting abilities?" It was a long shot – and would involve trying to get the lead actor to quit – but Morgan really wanted him in the role.
"I majored in history, Miss Liphae. That isn't exactly a degree known for ties with the dramatic arts."
Morgan held back a look. His words were true, blast him. "No, I suppose not. Still, what a show it could be with someone who is named after the wizard himself to be playing Merlin."
"As far as I knew, all the main actors were secured. And I would do horrible in front of a camera – you are better off with me behind the scenes."
Something about him made her feel comfortable enough that Morgan did let him see the face she pulled this time. Her lips pursed as if she tasted something bitter. Again, he was right. She had a feeling that his being right would be his thing. It perhaps came with the name. "If you insist. Though to be perfectly honest, Mr. Dragune, I'm not sure what help you'll be. I may not have majored in history, but I have studied it in my own time. I do think I know what I'm doing."
She didn't need help. She wanted to be clear about that to this young man. Morgan wasn't stupid, and she didn't want him to think she was. "The company, however, insists on a consultant. So no matter what, we will be working together. Or, rather, I will be working, and you will be here to look handsome. I suggest you bring a book to read next time. You'll be bored otherwise."
Returning to her papers, Morgan didn't quite catch the look Merlin gave her. If she had, she might have seen something in his face that would suggest he would be anything but bored.
