Hodad

Merriam-Webster: Hodads are people who spend time at surfing beaches, pretending to be surfers, but who do not actually surf.

Author's note: This story is set in a mythical time frame,(post season 5) in which Merlin, having lived a long, immortal time has managed Arthur's return at the foretold moment. Both the Once and Future King and Emrys have returned to Camelot, re-entering the timeline before the catastrophe of Camlann and now, the true Golden Age of Albion has begun! Clearly, Arthur knows and accepts Merlin's magic. (This story is a s—t—r—e—t—c—h given the meaning of the word! Hope you enjoy!)

Merlin swung down easily from the branch of the oak tree where he had remained hidden for the duration of the skirmish below. He gave the King a push with his shoulder, knocking him off balance as he stood catching his breath. Arthur only smiled. The knights moved around them, Percival and Elyan giving chase to the rapidly retreating brigands.

"Really, Merlin?" The king's tone rang with irony. "The most powerful warlock the world has ever seen, and you still hide in a tree like a girl when there are bandits around to fight!". He chuckled to himself as he plunged the tip of Excalibur into the dirt and cleaned the last of the blood from the blade before he sheathed it.

Merlin did not respond. Clad in his familiar blue homespun shirt and tattered neckerchief, his friend's eyes were twinkling as he gave Arthur a mysterious grin.

"Well, I'm gonna tell you why I do that, Arthur!" His smile deepened with an unfathomable mirth. "It's because I'm a hodad."

"A what? A hodad? I swear that's one of your ridiculous made up words, Merlin!"

"Of course it isn't! It's just a word that you don't know." His voice was jocular as he turned away and he spoke over his shoulder as he turned away from the king. "Fer sure, I'm a hodad!" He whistled for his horse, which immediately appeared from behind a copse of trees. He swung himself into the saddle and Arthur was glad to see his own horse ambling up at precisely the right moment. The tone of his voice changed archly as he looked down at his friend. "There are more things in heaven and earth, dear Arthur, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. " * The dark haired youth gave a chuckle and turned his horse to follow the other knights, evidently pleased with himself and greatly amused at his own wit.

Arthur dropped the topic. Hodad must be a word from the future. When Merlin referred to the future in that cryptic way, it was sometimes best to wait until he was ready to tell you what he actually meant. Sometimes, very rarely, he would speak of great battles and leaders, of migrations of peoples and religions, he would speak of brutal conquests and medical advances that could save lives better than magic. Other times he would speak of machines that did incredible things, until it seemed to Arthur that Merlin must surely spin these tales from his own boundless imagination. Nothing could be so amazing. In the end, Arthur would be agog and his friend would laugh and Merlin's words would drift away with the wind. And yet there was a truth in his tales that Arthur could not deny, no more than he could deny the mystery of his own raising from the Lake of Avalon. He shuddered. Recalling his friend made the cold, coiling memories of that day recede. Merlin.

Merlin and his words. Hodad. What was a hodad? And why was Merlin one of them? These glimpses of his friend's long life roused his curiosity as nothing else did. It was best to wait. Far away, Gawaine's voice drifted through the forest in a sing song rhythm.

"Princess!" The voice paused. "Princess! Have you lost your way?"

Realizing that he had been left far behind, the King spurred his horse forward.

Later on that evening, when dinner was done and Arthur was poking at the embers and glowing logs that would keep them warm through the night, he broached the word again. Leon and Gawaine were off tending the horses. Percival and Elyan had gone to gather firewood. The chores of the Round Table Knights had become decidedly more equitable since their return from time. Arthur was sure this change was Merlin's idea, but it seemed to work better than the previous one.

"So, what is a hodad," the king asked quietly.

"You'll find out," said the warlock with a mysterious tone and Arthur felt like he had been put off, like an over eager child. The mere notion nettled him, and he felt quite cross, until he saw Percival and Gawaine settle down by the fire, their easy manner and expressions indicating that a story was indeed forthcoming. Leon and Elyan joined the group moments later, and they completed a rough circle around the glow of the fire. Arthur relaxed. Merlin had been planning a story all along.

"A long time from now," began the warlock, looking around at his friends with a strange, wonderful fire in his eyes. "On an island far away from here, in a beautiful land where there are no seasons, and the sun shines every day, there is a game the people play with the waves and the shore."

The knights nodded and there was a general feeling of anticipation. Merlin gestured, a long slow movement with his hand, and his eyes glowed gold , as if the embers of the fire between them trembled for a moment in his gaze. There in the fire, an image of the sea arose, the waves cresting and moving, brilliant with foam. The sky was a rare color of blue and the sea glittered bright. The motes of magic hung around the image, outlining it in fire, and the knights along with Arthur, gawked at the image. They pointed at the strange trees on the shore, with feathery frond tops, and the stretch of white sand so long and bare, that it moved the heart. Merlin gestured again, and suddenly they saw a figure, paddling in the water, riding the swells of the waves on a sort of long, narrow, flat raft. Then to their collective shock, the figure hopped up, balancing on the raft and began to ride the wave, moving towards the shore! The knights became raucous and started to ask questions, but Merlin only gestured again.

Now the figure was suddenly closer, his feet gripping and flexing the board as he used his weight and his balance to slide the board over the water, his long hair trailing in the wind, until he suddenly lost control and disappeared with a sudden splash into the roiling surf.

"Whoa, he got axed! " exclaimed Merlin, laughing aloud, and although the words and images were strange, the knights and Arthur, understood in a visceral way. They laughed uproariously.

"That would be you," snorted Gawaine.

"And this would be you," answered Merlin, with a smirk and wave of his hand. A figure in wildly patterned short pants was riding the deep part of the wave, the incredible blue furl of water pushing the rider forward, inevitable and undeniable.

"Look, who's in the barrel," said the warlock, and the knights laughed as they could see the figure had Gawaine's face! The water was cresting over his head, the spray falling as he crouched deeper into the curl of the wave, and then he lost control as well. Percival and Leon hooted and Gawaine bowed mockingly.

"Love those pants", hooted Leon.

"Gnarly!" added Merlin.

"All well and good," said the king quietly, his tone quiet but smiling as he gazed at the sorcerous image of wind, water and rider. "But what is a hodad?"

Merlin pointed, and there on the shore, Arthur could see a group of young men and women, all tending to their slim, flat rafts. They were polishing and cleaning the boards, laughing and talking. There was music and joking. The men were tanned and muscular, the girls lithe and wearing very little clothing. The knights found this fascinating and they hardly paid attention to the exchange between Merlin and Arthur.

"He's a hodad," said the warlock, pointing once more. There on the shore was a rather lazy looking, thin, dark haired youth, who was polishing his board and taking a long, grateful quaff of some drink in a metal can.

"Ale, well, beer really," said Merlin, before his friend could ask what the kid was drinking. "Watch that guy, Arthur. He never goes in the water, never hits the waves, he just likes to hang out and pretend that he's one of them."

The King nodded, his eyes brightening as he caught Merlin's sidelong glance. "I see," he said and then said no more. The king and the warlock returned their attention to the sorcerous images, and the knights had many questions about how the surfers stayed on the boards, and Merlin told them all they wanted to know about the parts of the waves and how and why they broke in different ways, and how to tell when the waves were blown and not worth their time. Finally, at last, they went to bed, sleepy and incredulous, and full of strange dreams.

As they settled down, Arthur found himself, looking up at the stars, wondering if Orion the hunter, riding the crests of darkness could really be the great Duke Kahanamoku. He laughed at his own ridiculousness as he sighed and stretched.

"Merlin, "he said at last. The pause that followed was so long that the king began to think his friend was already asleep."Merlin!"

"Yeah," he heard at last.

"I just wanted to tell you something."

"What?"

"You aren't a hodad. Not at all."

"I'm not?"

"No, you idiot. You're part of us, you know. Our protector." Again there was a long silence and then a soft snort.

"I know, brah," said Merlin quietly. "I know."

The night wind sang them to sleep, and the soughing of the trees murmured like the ocean. And in their dreams, though they would never remember it in the morning, they slid on the waves, laughing, and the sun shone brilliant and clean on the pure blue waters of the sea.

The End

*Hamlet(1.5.167-8) Merlin thinks he's so smart!

Many thanks to my beautiful daughter, Ariana, who picked this week's word for the chapter because I was dithering! Thanks for forcing me to stretch a bit!