Hello again!
I was going to wait until Friday before uploading this chapter, so you won't suddenly have to wait long periods for updates when I reach the end of the prewritten chapters, but hey. I couldn't resist XD
Rakcrack15: Missed you too :3 Thanks for taking the time to review, especially since you're not overly familiar with the Merlin fandom. You truly are amazing. Therefore, this chapter is dedicated to you ;) Happy New Year
Disclaimer: Lol no, I do not own Merlin, I'm just borrowing the fandom for a little while
Five minutes of walking through the town had Arthur wanting to turn around and go back to that house of boredom. At least Merlin's house had recognizable features. This was like no town Arthur had ever been to. The road appeared to be made out of some solid black substance that Merlin had called 'tar', and the only thing he could identify besides trees and buildings (and even they didn't look right) were the people – even if they were wearing rather strange clothes. Although, to be fair, so was he; Merlin had told him that chainmail and armour was not an acceptable attire. What was wrong with this new world?
Arthur had so many questions. What were those tall posts with strange bauble-like contraptions on the end? Or the other posts that were joined by thick black cables? Or–
His thoughts were abruptly cut short as a large, metal thing sped past along the road. Arthur jumped, taking a large step in the opposite direction. Aithusa struggled to keep her mirth under control (it probably wouldn't go down well for a 'dog' to burst into a fit of laughter). Merlin stopped a few paces ahead with his head hung low.
"Relax," he turned and gave Arthur a reassuring smile. "It's just a car. It won't hurt you unless you walk out into the middle of the road."
"I'm not scared," Arthur said indignantly.
"If you say so," Merlin raised both eyebrows and continued on down the road, followed closely by Kilgharrah and a snickering Aithusa.
Arthur made a point of glaring at her as he moved into step behind them.
Gwendolyn smiled cheerfully as she brought a coffee to a woman seated at table 23. She only had to work for five more minutes before her break.
"What are we doing here?" a masculine voice caught her attention and she looked up to the entrance where two young men had just entered.
"I want you to try something," the dark haired man replied to his blonde companion.
"Why does that not fill me with confidence?"
The other man grinned but didn't comment as they walked up to the counter.
Gwen paused her clearing of a table as she watched the two place their orders, a strange feeling overcoming her. It was almost like she knew them from somewhere but couldn't remember exactly where. Stranger still, she was sure she hadn't seen either of them before in her life. She stood dumbfounded for the duration of their time in the café, only freed from her stupor when they left again, each holding a take-away cup. Even then she watched them through the window where they untied two dogs from a post and went on their way.
"Gwen? Are you alright?"
Gwen shot her head around to see one of her coworkers standing behind her with a concerned expression.
"Ah, yeah, fine," she shook her head a bit to clear it. "Just thought I saw someone I knew."
She hadn't even noticed that they weren't speaking English, or that she had somehow understood anyway.
Arthur looked down at the disposable cup warming his hand. Merlin had called it 'hot chocolate' – whatever chocolate was. Merlin noticed his apprehension and smiled.
"Go on," he encouraged. "Try it!" He took a sip of his own as if that would ease Arthur's suspicions.
The two dog-dragons were still grumbling about being tied up and left outside but Merlin and Arthur had opted to ignore them after the first few apologies that were dished out.
Arthur hesitantly raised the cup to his lips and took a small sip. Whatever he had been expecting it wasn't this. It was sweet, but not unpleasantly so. He couldn't say it was the best thing he'd ever drunk, but it was up there.
"So? What do you think?" Merlin grinned excitedly.
"It's alright," Arthur shrugged, taking another sip. He wouldn't let Merlin know what he really thought of it. He didn't need encouraging. But it seemed Merlin saw straight through that lie, as his grin only grew. If that was possible.
"How are you coping?"
The sudden seriousness of Merlin's tone caught Arthur off guard. He didn't need clarification to know what Merlin was talking about. He was never comfortable with talking about feelings and other girly things that Merlin appeared to have no troubles with; 1500 years hadn't changed that. He doubted time ever would.
"It's… different. It's like I've stepped into another world where nothing makes sense."
"In a way, you have." Merlin avoided his gaze. "It's not easy to get used to, but I'm sure you'll adjust given time."
Arthur nodded, but he didn't feel reassured. He was unsettled; everything he had ever known was gone. He was in a new world with new ideals and ways of doing things. Apart from Merlin (and maybe the dragons), there weren't even any people that he recognised or knew. There was almost nothing to give that sense of familiarity and comfort. Except of course for Merlin's house which, despite its size, was a blessing. Arthur was beginning to understand why Merlin had been putting off letting him go out.
"I don't like the idea of leaving you on your own," Merlin began in a lighter tone, "but I have to work tomorrow. Kilgharrah and Aithusa will take care of you, though, so I guess you won't really be on your own."
Wait. What? "Work?" Arthur asked stupidly.
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes, clotpole, work. As in, doing tasks in exchange for money."
"I know what working is, Merlin," Arthur scowled.
"You didn't think I could get away with not working, did you? The world still revolves around money, you know."
"Yes, but you work for me."
"I highly doubt you have any money to pay me with, so I have to work. I can take a day off if you need me, though."
Had Merlin not said it in such a condescending tone, Arthur would have liked the idea of Merlin taking a day off, not that he'd ever tell him that.
"No, Merlin, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
Merlin looked doubtful. "Really? Because last I recall you needed help just getting dressed."
"Idiot."
"Dollophead."
"Clotpole."
"Prat."
The familiar banter eased some of Arthur's tension. It felt like it had been forever since he'd been able to just relax without the weight of the kingdom and the expectation of his peers hanging over his shoulders. Maybe, in this life, he would be able to be normal; without the pressures society put on him. But then there was that 'catastrophic event' that had caused his resurrection. He hadn't been entirely sure what Merlin had been talking about, but he assumed it was the reason he was here now. Maybe he wasn't as free as he thought he was.
Merlin was glad when they finally returned home. He had been nervous about taking Arthur out into the town. Not to mention the endless questions he was expecting to be asked. But Arthur had, surprisingly, taken it all rather well. He could tell by the expressions Arthur tried to hide that he was overwhelmed by it all, but to hear him admit it was a small relief, strange as that was. Maybe it was because taking things too well would be more concerning than freaking out. Either way, Merlin was comfortable with Arthur's progress. He just hoped that Arthur would be settled enough to face whatever had made Fate decide it was time for him to return. If he hadn't come back during the wars, what was Albion's time of greatest need? Could it really be worse than those wars? Merlin didn't really care to find out.
He was also feeling hesitant about going to work. He knew Kilgharrah and Aithusa would be able to watch over Arthur and make sure he didn't burn the house down or something like that, but it was so soon after his return. Being confused and alone wasn't really a good combination, and he knew Arthur wasn't entirely comfortable around the dragons, either.
But, for Arthur's sake, Merlin hid his trepidations and anxieties behind the mask he had long thought no longer needed. If he was outwardly unnerved, then Arthur would be ten times worse. Arthur didn't need that. Neither of them needed that.
Merlin squatted down and removed the collars from Kilgharrah and Aithusa, muttering the counter-spell to revert their forms. Both seemed much more comfortable in their own skin. The trip into town seemed to have tired them out (despite the ancientness of their minds, they were still only a few years old) and they moved to their favourite spots to curl up for a nap; Kilgharrah on the backrest of the couch and Aithusa sprawled across the rug. Merlin wondered how long it would be before the couch could no longer support Kilgharrah's weight. Maybe he'd have to put a strengthening spell on it…
"So, Merlin," Arthur pulled him out of his thoughts. "What sort of work do you do, exactly?"
"Miss Hobson, it's a pleasure to have you here," Peter Rane held out his hand in greeting.
"The pleasure's all mine," Morissa returned the gesture. "It's nice to be back home."
"Steven highly recommended you, and I think I speak for the entire English branch when I say we're lucky you decided to return."
Morissa thought back to her old boss in America, bringing a smile to her face. How would they manage without her? "I'm not sure I'll be able to live up to the exaggerations, but I'll do my best."
"That's all we ask of you. Care to take a tour?"
At her affirmative nod, Peter led her through the museum to each of the different departments, introducing her to her new colleagues. In America, she had been working specifically in the identification of religious artifacts from various ancient civilisations and, upon transferring back to England, had been offered a similar position in the sister Museum.
"And here is the main staff common room, where you're more than welcome to kick back and relax on your breaks," Peter opened a 'staff-only' door, revealing a small lounge-like setting with a kitchenette along the side wall. "Most of the staff come in here at one point or another, so it's a good place to visit if the people in your department start to bore you."
"Speak for yourself, Pete," a woman seated on the couch nursing a mug of coffee grinned. "Ain't nothing boring 'bout archaeology."
"Oh please," Peter laughed. "You lot are the worst of the bunch!" He composed himself and returned his attention to Morissa. "You don't start for another half hour if you wanted to get acquainted with this lot," he gestured to the small group.
"Sounds like fun," Morissa made herself comfortable on the couch beside the other woman.
"Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." And with that, Peter turned and disappeared out the door.
"The name's Christine, but everyone calls me Chris," the woman shook her hand. "I work in archaeology, but you prob'ly heard."
"Morissa," Morissa replied. "I just transferred from America, specialising in religious artifacts."
"'S a big area."
"It is, but I didn't want to limit myself to anything too specific. I need a bit of freedom in my work."
"Fair enough," an older man mixing his tea looked back over his shoulder. "I'm Matt from entomology."
"And I'm Renee, also from entomology," a red haired woman supplied from an armchair adjacent to the couch.
"It's nice to meet you all."
The door opened slightly and a dark haired man wearing a red neckerchief walked in. Without acknowledging anyone, he walked straight over to the kitchenette, poured boiling water into a mug, grabbed a tea bag and hurried back out the door.
"That's Melvin," Chris explained, noticing what had caught Morissa's attention. "Don't worry 'bout 'im too much, he's not much of a people person. Sticks to 'imself mostly."
"I wonder why," Morissa muttered to herself.
"Dunno," Renee shrugged. "Most he's ever said to me was 'good morning'."
"He works in archives and literature," Matt plonked himself down on the armrest of the armchair, forcing Renee to scoot over. "He's young, but incredibly good at what he does."
"Hmm." There was something about him. Something Morissa couldn't quite put her finger on. He seemed almost… familiar. But surely she'd never seen him before?
Arthur sighed as he continued pacing the length of the room. It had only been a few hours since Merlin had left but he was already bored. Without kingly duties to keep him occupied, there really weren't many options. He couldn't remember the last occasion he'd had so much free time. What did Merlin do all these years? He couldn't have worked all day everyday. Come to think of it, he'd disappeared for full days or longer more than once back in Camelot. What did he do then? Gaius had said he was at the tavern…
Arthur paused in his pacing. Merlin had magic. Had had magic his entire life. It was more than likely Merlin hadn't gone to the tavern at all. Now that he thought about it, Arthur realised that there were many blanks, questions, that he had simply ignored. Now he wanted the answers. When Merlin gets back we're going to have a long talk, Arthur decided.
But, until then, there was still the problem of boredom.
"There must be something to do in this place," he groaned.
"You could always read a book," Kilgharrah shifted in his spot on the couch's backrest.
Arthur looked at him as though he'd sprouted a second head.
"It's not that bad," Aithusa rolled her eyes. "Merlin has lots of books. Maybe you'll find something that you're interested in."
Not being able to come up with anything better to do, Arthur conceded, heading into the bedroom where the bookshelves were.
Aithusa was right. Merlin did have a lot of books. Some of them appeared to be in languages Arthur had never even heard of. A particularly old looking book caught his eye. He reached up for it, but before his fingers could even get close to touching it, they struck a solid, invisible wall. He retracted his hand as though he'd been burned.
"You can't touch that one."
Arthur turned to see Aithusa watching him from the doorway. "Why not?"
"That's Merlin's magic book – the one Gaius gave him. It's got lots of enchantments on it so that he's the only one who can touch it."
"Oh." Arthur returned his gaze to the book. Now that he knew he couldn't touch it, he wanted to look at it all the more. It was probably the only momentum of Gaius Merlin had. Arthur had once thought that immortality would be useful, but after seeing Merlin, who had suffered through it, he could only associate it with a curse. What must it be like to be only able to stand by and watch while the world fell away around you? Knowing you had power but were still powerless to stop it?
A smaller, leather-bound book on a lower shelf stood out to him; he quickly identified it as being the one Merlin had been reading the previous day. When he tried to grab this one, he was pleased to find it didn't have the wards of the magic book.
"Umm," Aithusa's voice got his attention again.
"What?"
"I… I'm not sure you should read that one."
"Why?" Arthur looked down at the worn book in his hands. "What's wrong with it?"
"There's nothing wrong with it, as such," Aithusa shifted uncomfortably. "But I think it would be best to not look at it."
"You're the one who said I would find something interesting. Now that I have, you're saying I can't look at it?"
"Just… I just think it would be best for Merlin to tell you in person rather than have you find out through the pages of a book."
"Find out what?" Are there still secrets between us?
"About the past," it was Kilgharrah who spoke this time. Sometime during their conversation, he had moved to stand behind the slightly shorter Aithusa.
Now he really wanted to read it. But, then, didn't he want to have Merlin personally answer his questions?
"That book is a journal," Kilgharrah explained. "Merlin wrote it a long, long time ago."
"I remember seeing him working on it in my previous life," Aithusa added, looking rather miserable. "He… he said it was so that he wouldn't forget. So that he would always be able to read it if he felt the need."
Something clenched in Arthur's chest. He had seen Merlin reading this exact book not twenty four hours ago. What did that mean? Did it mean he was forgetting? Had he forgotten Arthur? He wasn't sure he really wanted to know. Without a second's hesitation, Arthur slipped the journal back into it's place on the shelf. Merlin definitely had a lot of explaining to do when he got back.
