A kind of magic
A Highlander / Merlin crossover
By Slef
The TV was on in a corner of Joe's bar. The place was still quiet, the early evening
crowd not in attendance yet. Joe, stocking his bar, glanced up to see his wayward,
non-paying patron, the Immortal Methos, stroll in.
"Hi Adam," Joe greeted cheerfully. Although Methos invariably helped himself to as
much of Joe's beer as possible, and never paid, Joe still liked him.
"Good afternoon, most worthy master of the drinking establishment," Methos intoned,
sprawling on a barstool and draping himself over the bar. "You wouldn't have some
beer now, would you?"
Joe, snorting with laughter, handed him a bottle, then went on with his work. Methos,
noticing - with the observational skills of 5000 years' experience - that Joe was busy,
watched the TV instead.
After a while he turned to Joe. "Unbelievable..."
"What?"
"That thing on TV ... 'Merlin', they call it..."
"Oh, yeah, I've seen it."
"They have the story all messed up, but Sam Neill really does look a lot like Merlin..."
"What?!"
"Yes, he does," Methos said with finality, knowing Joe would never let the story stop
there.
"Wait, wait... Merlin was real?"
"Yup."
"And you knew him."
"Joe, you should know by now that I knew everybody who was anybody..." Methos
smirked.
"So tell me about it!"
"Ok... It all started in 385 AD..."
* * *
I really don't remember what I was doing in Britain then, but one day I walked my
horse past a cave in a hill, and felt an Immortal inside. Curious, I dismounted and
approached the entrance, just as someone inside ventured out, probably to see who I
was.
So we stood, I in sunlight, he in shadow, each looking the other over. I was very much
a mercenary then, and he looked like a hermit. I wasn't so shy back then, and
introduced myself.
"I am Methos. I'm merely passing through and am not looking for trouble."
He smiled. "That's good to hear," he said in a surprisingly mild way. "I am Merlin."
Even I had heard of Merlin the Enchanter. But I'd never heard that he was one of us.
"Really?" I asked a bit stupidly.
"Indeed. Won't you come in?" He turned and led the way inside.
The cave was much more comfortable than you'd give a cave credit for. Merlin
seemed to have everything in there that an Enchanter could want.
"Nice place," I commented as I sat down where he pointed. He poured two cups of
wine, then joined me.
"Methos, there is something very strange about you," he said tentatively. "When you
came close I could feel your presence in my head..."
This confused me. How could he not know of the buzz? Or did he not know he was
Immortal?
"Don't you know that's how we recognize our kind?" I asked incredulously.
"What do you mean, 'our kind'?" he asked, perplexed.
"Immortals."
"You are Immortal?" This with wonder and awe.
"Yes, and you are too. I could feel you very clearly, that's why I stopped."
"I don't think I am immortal, Methos," he told me. "How would one determine this?"
I took my dagger, cut my hand and showed him how it healed in seconds. "You try
it."
He sighed, took his dagger, and carefully made a small cut on his palm. It bled
profusely. After a few minutes it still bled, while I stood staring stupidly at it. "You're
not healing!"
"I noticed that," he said dryly, binding the wound. "As I said, I don't think I'm
immortal."
"Then how can we feel each other?"
"Maybe it's a kind of magic," he said with a smile. "Tell me of immortality."
We spent hours talking, and parted as friends. Through the next few years we met
every now and then. He had an interesting life, dealing with kings and queens,
demons and dragons, magic and mystery. Then one day I heard tell that he'd been
ensorcelled by a woman, and imprisoned inside a tree.
I went looking for him, and sure enough, after a few years I found his presence in a
forest. It took days before I found the particular tree.
Let me note now that it was a very beautiful tree; one wouldn't want to be imprisoned
in anything else.
I knocked on the trunk, and although I could hear no voice, still I understood what he
said.
** Leave me, Methos. There is nothing for me, out there. One day I'll emerge again,
I'm sure. **
So I left him growing happily, and went on with my life...
* * *
Joe shook his head. "Incredible! So that was the end of it?"
"Yes. Of course, I've had some amusement over the years, listening to all the legends.
There are even some pretty good books about him..."
"So he really was a wizard..."
"He certainly had access to something we'd call magic," Methos said thoughtfully. "I
wonder..."
"Mm?" Joe said, lost in thought.
"That tree of his must be a national monument by now."
"It's still alive?!"
"Well, yes, I suppose if he hadn't been cut down for firewood..."
"Methos!" Joe exclaimed. "Let's go see if it's still there!"
"Are you sure? If he's there and I wake him, we'll be saddled with a guy from the 4th
century AD," Methos said, ever practical.
"I am saddled with a guy from the Bronze Age", Joe reminded him.
"Oh. Yes, well, ok then..."
* * *
Once in England, Joe and Methos hired a car and drove to the forest where Methos
said the tree was. Luckily it turned out to be a protected forest. After a while, they
could drive no further. "It's still a mile or so on, Joe," Methos said, knowing Joe
couldn't walk that far.
"I'll wait in the car," Joe proposed. "But take a few photos of the tree for me!"
Methos took a camera and stalked off into the woods. He could still feel Merlin's
presence, after all these years. When he reached the tree, he took a few snaps, then
stepped closer and knocked for the second time in almost 1600 years.
** Methos, is that you? ** Came a questing thought.
** Yes. Merlin, I think it's time you got up. **
** How long has it been? **
** About 1600 years. You have to see the world now, Merlin. It's really totally cool!
**
** Cool? Is there something wrong with the climate? **
** No. Just get out here! I want to show you things! **
** Very well. **
With a creaking sound, the tree trunk split open and Merlin stepped out. The trunk
closed behind him as if it had never opened. He looked around, squinting against the
light. "It looks just the same to me, my friend."
Methos laughed. "You'd be surprised. Come along, a friend of mine is waiting for us a
ways from here."
Merlin took his meeting with Joe a lot better than Joe took his meeting with Merlin.
He even took the car in his stride. When they drove into town, he observed everything
calmly, the commented "It's a kind of magic, isn't it?" when he saw electric lights.
They took him to a clothing shop to find something more modern. As they walked
inside, the girl behind the counter gasped: "Oh... my... gosh... It's Sam Neill!"
Methos quietly slipped out the door as the entire staff descended on Merlin. He could
not bear to watch. A few seconds later, as if by magic (which perhaps it was), Merlin
appeared next to Methos. "Can I go back to my tree now?" he asked plaintively.
"I think I'll join you," Methos responded as some people in the street stopped and
stared. "Shall we go?"
"Let's," Merlin said, snapped his fingers and disappeared.
"Hey!" Methos shouted, then disappeared as well. The crowd stared dumbfounded,
then drifted away.
Joe had to make his way back to Seacouver all by himself.
* * *
In a forest in England there grows a truly magnificent tree. If you listen closely, you
can hear voices from inside.
** Merlin, why didn't you tell me you had no TV in here? **
snap
** Hey, where'd that come from? **
** It's a kind of magic, Methos. **
** You wouldn't happen to have some beer ... **
The end.
(c) Slef 10 November 2000
Disclaimer:
Methos, Joe and Immortals belong to Rysher: Panzer/Davis.
Merlin (the tv movie) belongs to NBC, but Merlin the legend was created before
anyone thought of copyright.
I profit nothing from this, except some amusement, so don't sue me!
A Highlander / Merlin crossover
By Slef
The TV was on in a corner of Joe's bar. The place was still quiet, the early evening
crowd not in attendance yet. Joe, stocking his bar, glanced up to see his wayward,
non-paying patron, the Immortal Methos, stroll in.
"Hi Adam," Joe greeted cheerfully. Although Methos invariably helped himself to as
much of Joe's beer as possible, and never paid, Joe still liked him.
"Good afternoon, most worthy master of the drinking establishment," Methos intoned,
sprawling on a barstool and draping himself over the bar. "You wouldn't have some
beer now, would you?"
Joe, snorting with laughter, handed him a bottle, then went on with his work. Methos,
noticing - with the observational skills of 5000 years' experience - that Joe was busy,
watched the TV instead.
After a while he turned to Joe. "Unbelievable..."
"What?"
"That thing on TV ... 'Merlin', they call it..."
"Oh, yeah, I've seen it."
"They have the story all messed up, but Sam Neill really does look a lot like Merlin..."
"What?!"
"Yes, he does," Methos said with finality, knowing Joe would never let the story stop
there.
"Wait, wait... Merlin was real?"
"Yup."
"And you knew him."
"Joe, you should know by now that I knew everybody who was anybody..." Methos
smirked.
"So tell me about it!"
"Ok... It all started in 385 AD..."
* * *
I really don't remember what I was doing in Britain then, but one day I walked my
horse past a cave in a hill, and felt an Immortal inside. Curious, I dismounted and
approached the entrance, just as someone inside ventured out, probably to see who I
was.
So we stood, I in sunlight, he in shadow, each looking the other over. I was very much
a mercenary then, and he looked like a hermit. I wasn't so shy back then, and
introduced myself.
"I am Methos. I'm merely passing through and am not looking for trouble."
He smiled. "That's good to hear," he said in a surprisingly mild way. "I am Merlin."
Even I had heard of Merlin the Enchanter. But I'd never heard that he was one of us.
"Really?" I asked a bit stupidly.
"Indeed. Won't you come in?" He turned and led the way inside.
The cave was much more comfortable than you'd give a cave credit for. Merlin
seemed to have everything in there that an Enchanter could want.
"Nice place," I commented as I sat down where he pointed. He poured two cups of
wine, then joined me.
"Methos, there is something very strange about you," he said tentatively. "When you
came close I could feel your presence in my head..."
This confused me. How could he not know of the buzz? Or did he not know he was
Immortal?
"Don't you know that's how we recognize our kind?" I asked incredulously.
"What do you mean, 'our kind'?" he asked, perplexed.
"Immortals."
"You are Immortal?" This with wonder and awe.
"Yes, and you are too. I could feel you very clearly, that's why I stopped."
"I don't think I am immortal, Methos," he told me. "How would one determine this?"
I took my dagger, cut my hand and showed him how it healed in seconds. "You try
it."
He sighed, took his dagger, and carefully made a small cut on his palm. It bled
profusely. After a few minutes it still bled, while I stood staring stupidly at it. "You're
not healing!"
"I noticed that," he said dryly, binding the wound. "As I said, I don't think I'm
immortal."
"Then how can we feel each other?"
"Maybe it's a kind of magic," he said with a smile. "Tell me of immortality."
We spent hours talking, and parted as friends. Through the next few years we met
every now and then. He had an interesting life, dealing with kings and queens,
demons and dragons, magic and mystery. Then one day I heard tell that he'd been
ensorcelled by a woman, and imprisoned inside a tree.
I went looking for him, and sure enough, after a few years I found his presence in a
forest. It took days before I found the particular tree.
Let me note now that it was a very beautiful tree; one wouldn't want to be imprisoned
in anything else.
I knocked on the trunk, and although I could hear no voice, still I understood what he
said.
** Leave me, Methos. There is nothing for me, out there. One day I'll emerge again,
I'm sure. **
So I left him growing happily, and went on with my life...
* * *
Joe shook his head. "Incredible! So that was the end of it?"
"Yes. Of course, I've had some amusement over the years, listening to all the legends.
There are even some pretty good books about him..."
"So he really was a wizard..."
"He certainly had access to something we'd call magic," Methos said thoughtfully. "I
wonder..."
"Mm?" Joe said, lost in thought.
"That tree of his must be a national monument by now."
"It's still alive?!"
"Well, yes, I suppose if he hadn't been cut down for firewood..."
"Methos!" Joe exclaimed. "Let's go see if it's still there!"
"Are you sure? If he's there and I wake him, we'll be saddled with a guy from the 4th
century AD," Methos said, ever practical.
"I am saddled with a guy from the Bronze Age", Joe reminded him.
"Oh. Yes, well, ok then..."
* * *
Once in England, Joe and Methos hired a car and drove to the forest where Methos
said the tree was. Luckily it turned out to be a protected forest. After a while, they
could drive no further. "It's still a mile or so on, Joe," Methos said, knowing Joe
couldn't walk that far.
"I'll wait in the car," Joe proposed. "But take a few photos of the tree for me!"
Methos took a camera and stalked off into the woods. He could still feel Merlin's
presence, after all these years. When he reached the tree, he took a few snaps, then
stepped closer and knocked for the second time in almost 1600 years.
** Methos, is that you? ** Came a questing thought.
** Yes. Merlin, I think it's time you got up. **
** How long has it been? **
** About 1600 years. You have to see the world now, Merlin. It's really totally cool!
**
** Cool? Is there something wrong with the climate? **
** No. Just get out here! I want to show you things! **
** Very well. **
With a creaking sound, the tree trunk split open and Merlin stepped out. The trunk
closed behind him as if it had never opened. He looked around, squinting against the
light. "It looks just the same to me, my friend."
Methos laughed. "You'd be surprised. Come along, a friend of mine is waiting for us a
ways from here."
Merlin took his meeting with Joe a lot better than Joe took his meeting with Merlin.
He even took the car in his stride. When they drove into town, he observed everything
calmly, the commented "It's a kind of magic, isn't it?" when he saw electric lights.
They took him to a clothing shop to find something more modern. As they walked
inside, the girl behind the counter gasped: "Oh... my... gosh... It's Sam Neill!"
Methos quietly slipped out the door as the entire staff descended on Merlin. He could
not bear to watch. A few seconds later, as if by magic (which perhaps it was), Merlin
appeared next to Methos. "Can I go back to my tree now?" he asked plaintively.
"I think I'll join you," Methos responded as some people in the street stopped and
stared. "Shall we go?"
"Let's," Merlin said, snapped his fingers and disappeared.
"Hey!" Methos shouted, then disappeared as well. The crowd stared dumbfounded,
then drifted away.
Joe had to make his way back to Seacouver all by himself.
* * *
In a forest in England there grows a truly magnificent tree. If you listen closely, you
can hear voices from inside.
** Merlin, why didn't you tell me you had no TV in here? **
snap
** Hey, where'd that come from? **
** It's a kind of magic, Methos. **
** You wouldn't happen to have some beer ... **
The end.
(c) Slef 10 November 2000
Disclaimer:
Methos, Joe and Immortals belong to Rysher: Panzer/Davis.
Merlin (the tv movie) belongs to NBC, but Merlin the legend was created before
anyone thought of copyright.
I profit nothing from this, except some amusement, so don't sue me!