Another part to 'Battolgical', yes I know it`s been awhile. But hey, I got it done! XD I might even add a little extra to this one later on, haven`t decided yet
Anyways this is fan-fiction, and I own nothing
There were some things, Merlin noticed with time; that one never really gets used too. One of those thing were any form of automobile. Sure, some thirteen hundred odd years ago Merlin would always complain to Arthur about having to ride on horseback all day. But these modern day automobiles weren't at all better in Merlin's books. It took hundreds of years but Merlin had begun to preferred horseback to any form of travel, sure it was slow going but it reminded him of Camelot, of home, and he could never get used to automobiles.
The world had changed so much over the ages. It often took Merlin by surprise just how much everything changed with time, it surprised him even more when he tried so hard to hold onto scraps of the past in the modern age simply because something reminded him of Camelot.
Now, in 1911 England, Merlin spent his days with horses. The one chore he'd hated most: the mucking out of Arthur's stables, had become Merlin's daily life when he took over a small Ranch outside of Edinburgh. In fact Merlin was quite found of Edinburgh at the moment, Gwen, Arthur, Leon, Elyan and Percival (even Mordred) all lived in Edinburgh. With a bit of magic he changed his appearance to look as if he were about the same age as Gwen. Though Merlin missed Lancelot and Gwaine terribly he kept his eyes out for them, if he'd learned anything over the years it's the all of his all friends all seemed to always be drawn together.
So, as he'd done for more years than he could count, Merlin once more waited; and waited, and waited.
Until one day, while cooking a breakfast of french toast for himself, Arthur, and Gwen -who were staying at Ealdor Ranch with Merlin for a week- Merlin caught sight of the morning paper as Arthur was flipping through it. Right on the cover story: "TRANSPORT STRIKE IN LIVERPOOL: No End in Sight". Just below the headline, arm's around each other's shoulder, shouting protest with dozen other men; Lancelot stood with Gwaine.
"Merlin?" Gwen asked, offering up a bit of french toast ready for frying. "Merlin, are you okay?"
Shocked by the sight of Gwaine and Lancelot on the cover of the morning paper Merlin shook himself back to the present. "Oh, yes yes I'm fine, very fine. I just remember I have to go to Liverpool."
Arthur looked up at that. "Liverpool?"
"Yes, Liverpool."
With a flick of his wrist Arthur held up the cover of the morning paper and gave Merlin a sceptical look. "This liverpool?"
"What other Liverpool could I be talking about?" Merlin demanded.
Gwen meanwhile left the boys to arguing and slipped past Merlin to take over the duty of frying the french toast.
"Why the bloody hell would you have to go there?" Arthur shot back.
"Personal matter," It wasn't exactly a lie. It was personal, and just a bit selfish, that Merlin wanted to see Gwaine and Lancelot again, even if they didn't remember.
Arthur wasn't about to let matters drop just like that though. "Personal? You live like a hermit on a horse ranch by Edinburgh, what personal reason could you have to go to Liverpool?"
"One that I'm not telling you!"
"Well be careful then," Gwen said, easily stopping any argument before it could escalate and set a plate of fresh french toast on the table. "But for now, the toast is ready. I'm sure a trip to Liverpool can wait until after breakfast."
IX-XI
It wasn't until the next morning that Merlin was finally ready to leave Ealdor Ranch for Liverpool. Merlin didn't want to leave the Ranch without someone to look after it so, putting aside all past feeling he had on the matter, Merlin gave into Gwen's logic and asked Mordred to look after his Ranch.
It wasn't that Mordred was in any way trouble, Merlin just always found it hard to trust the boy after everything that had happened during the time of Camelot. But after that time in Paris Merlin had been making great strides in not holding any reincarnations of Mordred responsable. Besides, Mordred knew the Ranch almost as well as Merlin what with him always visiting, with whomever was coming by, and now the magic lessons Merlin somehow ended up giving Mordred.
Though part of Merlin wasn't at all surprised about the lessons, Mordred was always magical and who else would teach the boy?
Young as he was Mordred was more than capable and very willing to help out when Gwen and Merlin had rang him up. So Arthur and Gwen left early, and Gwen returned with Mordred in the morning.
By nine in the morning everything was ready, Mordred had his orders, Gwen had agreed to come back and check up on him now and then as need be since Merlin couldn't say just how long he'd be gone.
But as he was planning on travel by horseback and Liverpool was roughly 200 miles away Merlin guessed 3-4 days of hard riding there and another 3-4 days back his best guess was almost two weeks.
"Why don't you just drive?" Mordred was asking as he leaned in the stable doorway, watching Merlin ready his mount.
"I'll never been a fan of automobiles," Merlin replied, check over the saddle. He was taking a Criollo gelding, called Dracula by Mordred as the Criollo had a habit of biting anyone other than Merlin.
"It would be faster," Mordred said before realizing what he'd actually said. "Not that mind! I'm perfectly happy to help!"
Smiling Merlin gave Dracula pat on the rump before turning to Mordred and leading the horse out. "I know Mordred," Now that Merlin was really giving the boy a chance Merlin found himself much more found of him than he'd like to admit. There had always been something between the two magic users, even in Camelot. Merlin also wondered, for what had to be the billionth time, how different things might have been if only he'd given Mordred a chance the first time.
"But faster or not, I still can't drive so, Horseback it is." The ancient warlock said and pulled himself into the saddle as easily as the 25 year old man that he looked like.
Seeing Merlin saddle up Mordred ran to open the paddock for him. Staying to close it again after Merlin.
"So, I'll call when I get to Liverpool, should take a few days. Keep practicing that spell I'd taught you, I'll want to see when I get back. Don't burn the place to the ground would you?" Merlin said, ruffling Mordred's hair.
Swatting at Merlin and trying -and failing- to look angry at the mistreatment of his hair Mordred promised that he'd do his best. Farewells said Merlin set off, and though it had taken over a hundred lifetimes, and though only he remembered it how it had started, Merlin was quite pleased that he could now part ways with Mordred as friends.
Merlin didn't know it yet, but that 13th of August became 'Bloody Sunday'. When people gathered in St. George's Plateau to hear Tom Mann speak Lancelot and Gwaine were there, and when the police charged the crowd Lancelot and Gwaine were there.
IX-XI
It was a rare thing, for any 'Them' to remember the past. But it happened. Like Mordred in Paris, or Gwen the first time she came back. Every now and then one of them would be reborn, reincarnated, and they'd remember, remember who and what they had been, remember Camelot, remember Merlin. It was rare, and even then they normally only remembered bits and pieces never the whole thing. Morgana and Mordred remembered three times more often than everyone else put together.
So, after three days of hard riding on the road, Merlin came to Liverpool and was welcomed by the sounds of terrified screaming and gunfire.
Worried half to death for his friends Merlin rode Dracula through crowds of people. Working their way against the tide of human bodies the Criollo picked his way deeper into the chaos at his master's behest, biting at those stupid enough touch him. Merlin lead his horse from one side road to another praying for any sight of Lancelot and Gwaine.
"COME ON! Keep moving, we're almost home, come on Lance!"
Among the chaos Merlin's straining ears picked up the sound of Gwaine. Charging Dracula down an alleyway the Gelding reared when he almost ran into two sturdy young men, one half carrying the other from a gunshot to the shoulder.
For a single moment Merlin's heart stopped, Gwaine and Lancelot stood before him looking as battle worn as they ever had during the time of Camelot,
"You," Gwaine breathed.
But Merlin was already turning Dracula's head; reaching down to pull Lancelot into the saddle with him. "Help me get him up here, you'll make terrible speed like that." Merlin said, for a moment forgetting that this Lancelot, and that this Gwaine had never meet him before.
Gwaine was too stunned by the sudden appearance of a man on horseback to question anything and helped the lanky stranger pull his injured friend up into the saddle before him. "Yeah, yeah follow me!"
Running hard Gwaine didn't have to look back, he could easily pick out the clack of horse shoes on pavement behind him. The stranger was right: this was faster. within a few moments, just six blocks, they came to Gwaine's house.
With much jostling and teamwork Merlin and Gwaine got Lancelot inside. Leaving Dracula to watch himself in the front yard. Together they laid Lancelot on Gwaine sofa and Merlin soon sent Gwaine off to look for a first aid kit. The moment Gwaine left them alone Merlin checked the wound: the bullet had gone straight through Lancelot's left shoulder. Knowing the extent of the damage the warlock began chanting low under his breath, using magic to heal the worst of the damage leaving only the surface open and bleeding. He hated to do so but Merlin knew he couldn't very well heal all of it, not with all that blood.
"Who?" Lancelot mumbled, his eyes fighting to focus.
"I'm a friend, stay still. My name's Merlin."
Lancelot laughed at that, "It's me, Lancelot, we should find Arthur, the rest of the knights."
He couldn't help it, Merlin froze at that. Could Lancelot really remember? Remember Camelot, the rest of the knights, the secret they had once shared. But no, Merlin reminded himself, forcing his attention back to the task at hand. There would be time enough to learn whether or not Lancelot truly remembered Camelot or not later.
"I read about it, but I guess everyone knows King Arthur don't they?" Lancelot laughed again, but it was subdued, and his eyes shut against the pain. "No way you're that Merlin though, huh? Magic isn't real after all."
"Nah," It hurt. Like a knife to the heart; even if it had only been for a moment Merlin had truly thought Lancelot remembered him and the realization that he didn't was crushing. "Magic's all myth and legend." Merlin said, silently adding a :'Like me.' To himself.
Gwaine returned then, and Merlin bandged Lancelot's shoulder, who soon passed right out on the sofa leaving Merlin and Gwaine to just sit there. Gwaine kept giving Merlin funny looks but didn't say anything.
"So," Merlin began, he couldn't stand the silence any more. It was awkward and over the hundreds of times he re-met Gwaine it had never been so awkward. Though when he thought about Merlin did suppose it might have more to due with the fact that Lancelot had been shot and Merlin had met them by nearly running them over on horseback. "My name's Merlin."
At the mention of Merlin's name Gwaine's head snapped up so violently it was surprising he hadn't broken anything.
All he said was: "You don't say."
Deciding that small talk wasn't going to get them anywhere Merlin opted to speak bluntly. "Is there a reason you keep looking at me like that?"
"No, no reason." Despite this Merlin didn't believe Gwaine at all.
"Really? I would assume it would have been because I almost ran you down on horseback."
With that, Gwaine was back, Merlin Gwaine, the Gwaine he'd known in Camelot. Running his hand through his hair Gwaine shot Merlin an easy smile. "I'd almost forgotten that part, happens all the time." He said jokingly.
Merlin couldn't help laughing at that. "And here I'd thought I'd made an impression."
And just like that, his Gwaine was gone, he was once more giving Merlin funny looks, as if he couldn't quite tell if he was real or not.
With a sigh Merlin stood, crossed the room, and shock Gwaine's hand. "Well hello, I'm Merlin, nice to meet you Gwaine, very nice indeed. What's that? 'Thank you for helping me and Lancelot'? Oh don't worry, wasn't any trouble at all, my pleasure actually."
Eyes wide, back ramrod straight, Gwaine was looking at Merlin like he'd seen a ghost now.
"What?" Merlin asked indignantly.
"How do you know my name?"
It hit Merlin like a ton of bricks, he'd messed up, used Gwaine's name before he'd been given it in this life.
"Well-" Merlin began but Gwaine cut off any excuse before Merlin could even come up with one.
"You're. . . You are real." Now Gwaine was standing too. And like every time before he was scant inches shorter. "You really are Merlin aren't you?"
Now Merlin was confused. "Of course I'm Merlin, I just told you my name didn't I?"
Snorting Gwaine shook his head. "No, I mean you are The Merlin, from Camelot."
"How-"
Once more Gwaine cut Merlin off. "I dreamed it, all the time growing up. But, but it's true isn't? You are Merlin?"
Grinning so wide Merlin almost feared his face might split open. "Yes, I am Merlin. I never died, the rest of you, you did, So I just sort of. . . . waited. You all came back, you died, I waited. Ever since."
Suddenly Merlin was enveloped in Gwaine's arm as he received a crushing hug. "Sorry I left you alone, you were my first friend. I figured that was it though. It wasn't . . . . I didn't always dream of Camelot."
IX-XI
The next few hours while Lancelot slept were spent in Gwaine's kitchen, Merlin answered all question asked of him, and this time he told Gwaine of his magic. As the afternoon turned to evening Merlin and Gwaine spent their time waiting for Lancelot and telling the other of their life, Merlin had a lot more to tell and Gwaine's dreams had left a lot of blanks that needed filling.
Blanks that Merlin was all too happy to fill.
Despite the ending Gwaine's favorite story was of when Arthur had hung him. Gwaine had been a pirate, and Arthur the officer of the royal British Navy that finally saw an end to Gwaine's long career of piracy.
When the sun finally set Gwaine offered Merlin his guest room, and Merlin took a moment to call Mordred as he'd said he would.
"I ought to head back in the morning." Merlin was thinking aloud, lingering in the doorway to the guest bedroom. He'd just checked on Dracula and the horse had made himself quite at home in Gwaine's yard between eating everything he could and terrorizing the neighbors.
"Or you could stay," Gwaine suggested softly, his eyes held a soft look to them too.
"Can't I've got a Ranch in Edinburgh, Mordred could never look after the place by himself for little more than a week."
The only reply was a vague non-committal grunt from Gwaine. "While then,"Gwaine was saying, clearing his throat and pointedly looking away. "G'night Merlin." It was a very poor imitation of Arthur, but Merlin laughed just the same.
"Goodnight Gwaine."
Gwaine turned toward his own room, but didn't leaving, merely waited a moment as if debating an idea with himself. A decision made Gwaine turned back to the warlock. "You forgot something, when we were talk about. . . about everything."
"Oh?" Merlin said, waiting for further elaboration, there was only one thing he hadn't mentioned and Gwaine hadn't asked about that.
"Yes, I. . . .It seemed rather important but I'm not sure if it was just dreams or more memories." Somehow, Gwaine seemed more like a teen aged boy than the full grown man that he was, and while Merlin would never say it out loud he did find it a bit cute.
"And what's that?"
"It's. . . ." Another pause, more internal debating, and finally, Gwaine kissed Merlin. Light a soft, just a brush of lips on lips. "This."
While Merlin and Gwaine had never been together during their time in Camelot, they had been together after it, countless times after Camelot, Merlin had always held Gwaine close to his heart, but during Camelot he couldn't do anything because of Arthur. Not because Merlin had loved Arthur but because Merlin had to protect him, and protecting Arthur was a full time job.
But after Camelot, Merlin had been free to love, and time and time again he had loved Gwaine and whether Gwaine remember him or not they had often seemed to fit together, to meet in strange ways.
If Gwaine was willing to kiss him, Merlin would kiss back.
Before either one realized just what was happening they fell, legs tangled, onto the guest bed together.
IX-XI
The sun was just cresting the horizon when Merlin awoke, Gwaine was as much a morning person as ever and just rolled away from the light. Slipping out of bed Merlin tip toed to shower before he set about making breakfast.
Merlin could help feeling that maybe he was bit too familiar with Gwaine considering that from Gwaine's point of view they'd only just met. That being said, Lancelot soon woke up to the smell of coffee, bacon, eggs and hotcakes, and Lancelot wasn't complaining about Merlin's familiarity with them.
Lancelot and Merlin were trading jokes between mouthfuls of bacon and eggs when loud banging from the guest room alerted them to Gwaine having woken up. Gwaine came down the hall like a bat out of hell with only a sheet tangled about his waist.
"Oh, oh good. You're still here." Gwaine gasped, breathless from his fight with the bedding.
"Yes I am still here, breakfast is on the stove."
Gwaine didn't need telling twice and quickly load a plate with everything Lancelot and Merlin hadn't eaten.
"Well," Merlin began as he finished washing the last plate with Gwaine's help. "I really ought to be heading back-"
"-You can't leave already!" Gwaine shouted indignantly, cutting Merlin off.
"You've only just gotten here!" Lancelot said from his place on the sofa. He hadn't been allowed to help clean up as he'd been shot less than 24 hours ago.
"Yes but it took four days to get here, today is the fifth and I told Mordred I'd only be a week. That gives me two days to make a four day ride." Merlin explained. "Besides, both of you are more than welcome to visit."
After some debating, and much begging on Gwaine's part, Merlin opted to stay for the rest of the day.
IX-XI
The 'Official' story was that Merlin and Gwaine had known each other briefly as children. When Merlin saw a very familiar face in a newspaper he'd taken a chance and made the trip to Liverpool. Luckily for Lancelot as Merlin had shown up just in time to help and tend his bullet wound. The only one question the story was Arthur, who demanded to know why Merlin would go to such lengths for a 'Childhood friend'. After much prodding Merlin embarrassed them both by yelled that Gwaine was his first crush and Arthur finally shut up.