A/N:Wow! I was not expecting this kind of response! Thank everyone so much for your reviews, and I'm really excited that you guys are enjoying my rendition of future!Merlin so far. Hopefully, I'll do justice to your expectations!
And so it was that every Tuesday afternoon, sometimes a little late, sometimes a little early, Will would haul a new week's worth of homework down to the old end of town, and find his way to the door of Hoffi Coffi, Merlin's preferred coffee bar. Sometimes they'd talk, sometimes they wouldn't. A time or two, Will found himself receiving a personal class session when one of his simple questions awakened the professor hidden within Merlin's vast memory. He got help on his homework and lessons on dead languages, and sometimes a suspiciously detailed account of times long gone.
Will didn't mind. Neither did Merlin, after a while. He was stiff-backed and stiffer-lipped for the first few weeks, but in time, Will saw him relax and loosen his frown, let his shoulders fall comfortably in Will's presence even as the younger man studied his every move. Somewhere between the coffee and coursework and reading (for if Will had his homework out, Merlin was sure to have a paperback on hand as well – the title changed every week, Will had noticed) they found time to talk, about everything and nothing in particular.
They spoke of Will's family only once, briefly. He relayed how his parents were both employed by the Ministry (Merlin grimaced) and how his brother made wands, how his sister's brains were the pride of the family, and how being the youngest of three and the only one without magic to boot was, to put it lightly, difficult. Merlin looked sympathetic by the end, but only for a moment, after which he steered the conversation away kindly. They never spoke of Will's family again.
Instead, they spoke of school, of university, of films and television dramas, of books and the classics, of their favorite sports, and interesting or amusing articles they'd read on the internet. Once, Will had been brave enough to ask after the accuracy of the Arthurian legends he'd been learning in school. To his slight surprise, Merlin indulged him without trouble. He spoke of the exaggerations of Lancelot's affair, and spent quite some time correcting all misconceptions about Guinevere. She must have been close friends with Merlin, Will gathered. He spoke of the Round Table and of Mordred, before Will at last asked, "And… why is it that everyone seems to remember you as a skinny old man with a long white beard?"
Merlin scoffed and tossed his head back suddenly. When he looked back up, his face was the embodiment of annoyance. Will tried not to laugh at the sudden outburst.
"That was, what, three, four times? So I needed a disguise, and used an aging spell. Somehow, that's all anyone ever remembers about me." He shook his head. "Flattering," he spat sarcastically. "It's all that damned Geoffrey's fault, I'd bet you a tenner."
"Geoffrey?" Will asked.
"Monmouth."
Will's brows rose. Oh, of course. That Geoffrey. Naturally.
"I ought to have put that trim little beard of his down a shredder. But of course we didn't have shredders in Camelot, and oh damn, I've gone and made myself feel old again." He sighed and shook his head. "but what the hell, I'm ancient." He ordered a beer after that.
Will had actually forgotten several times just how old Merlin was. Yet, the man's history was so fascinating, Will couldn't help himself but to ask more and more about Camelot. Merlin obliged kindly, but somehow in his excitement, Will forgot just how close to home this all must've been hitting the other man, and ended up asking after Arthur. Merlin seemed unfazed at first, and continued easily, but about half way through his third story, he'd slowed to a halt and begun to stare into space with a sad expression. When he came out of his trance, he heaved a sigh before downing a whole beer in three massive gulps.
Will was mortified, and gave his apologies by keeping silent on all things Camelot for the following weeks.
Autumn leaves clattered away in cold winds, and the locals brought out snow shovels and heavy coats as Winter took her turn. By mid-December, Will was on break from Uni, but he remained in-town, (Much to Merlin's surprise:"Ought you not got somewhere to go for Christmas, Will?" "No. Family Christmases are always… dull." "Oh.") so he kept up his habit of sitting with Merlin to read and drink and talk well past dark, every Tuesday, always huddled in the same back booth of Hoffi Coffi.
Will had asked Merlin about that name, 'Hoffi Coffi' once. Merlin had smiled and replied merrily,
"Cymraeg."
"What?"
"It's Welsh," he clarified.
"Oh. What's it mean, then?"
"To like coffee."
A bit of an anti-climax, Will thought, but it did explain a thing or two. For one, why he could never pronounce the shop owner's name correctly, and two, the strange code Merlin often spoke with Katie whenever he first came in.
"Prynhawn da, Merddyn," she'd say, and he'd smile at the old name she used for him.
"Prynhawn da. Sut dach chi?"
"Yn dda iawn. A chi?"
"Wi'n braf. Ga i yn coffi?"
"Wrth gwrs." She'd make him the same coffee he ordered every week and hand it over with the bright smile of someone who didn't get to speak in her native tongue often. He would smile back with the look of someone who was happy to oblige the favor.
"Diolch," He'd nod, drop a fiver on the counter, and take his coffee back to the booth.
"Croeso."
As he sat down, Will would glance at Katie and then Merlin. "Where you ordering coffee, flirting, or both?" He'd ask with a smile.
Merlin would laugh. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I'm a millennia and a half older than her, at least."
"She doesn't know that."
Merlin would snort into his coffee and shake his head. "Perhaps not, but I'm already spoken for – have been for a long time." He'd say it with a wistful tone, and Will would let the subject drop.
It was moments such as these when Will remembered just who Merlin was, how long he'd been around, how much he'd seen and learned. Languages, memories, lifetimes of untold history. The more Will learned about the man, the more he wanted to get to know him better.
Which was why he was so disappointed one Tuesday night, when Merlin finished his latte and announced, "I won't be here next week, I'm afraid."
"What? Why?" Will asked, perhaps too quickly.
"Oh, don't look so glum, you squib," Which had become a friendly name for Merlin to use, "I'll see you around, alright?" And, coming from Merlin's mouth, it didn't sound so much of an escape route as it did a promise.
"Pob hwyl," Merlin tossed back at Katie as he left. Merlin hadn't yet taught Will enough Welsh for him to remember what the words meant, but it sounded to him like an abrupt goodbye.
Perhaps if he'd thought about it, Will could've realized in advance why Merlin wouldn't be up for coffee the following Tuesday – It was Christmas day. Will had only realized this himself when he showed up to Hoffi Coffi at the normal time (despite Merlin's not being there, he was beginning to suspect his own growing dependency on the place) only to find the doors locked shut with a jolly window drawing of St. Nick wishing them the happiest of Christmas, presumably with coffee found elsewhere. After heaving a sigh that fogged on the window, Will turned back around and waited for the bus that would take him to his flat.
He was looking down as he climbed the steps to his front door, digging through his rucksack with frozen fingers to find his keys, so it was at least moderately understandable when he didn't see the man standing there.
A muffled oomph noise preceded a scuffle and wooden tapping noise, and Will was just looking up to snap off at the strange man at his door, but then, between the thick woolen scarf and a tweed flat cap, a dimpled smile.
"Merlin? What the hell are you doing at my flat?!"
Merlin laughed. "Happy Christmas to you too, squib. You said you hadn't any company for Christmas, I thought I'd help."
Will's expression softened, but he shook his head. "That's nice of you, Merlin, but… I'm not really ready to have visitors – place is a mess, not even a spare box of tea left."
Merlin chuckled. "Yes, well, I think I have one or two."
Will looked up at him, puzzled, "What, you just… carry them around, do you?"
"No, that would be ridiculous. Come along, then," Merlin put a hand to Will's back and steered him back around toward the steps.
"What-where are we going?" Will looked up and down at Merlin, noticing for the first time the wooden cane that Merlin was leaning on whenever he stepped on his right leg. "And what's happened to your leg?"
"Creaky old bones, I'm afraid. Ancient injury still likes to torment me, cold makes it worse. As for going, the car's down there." Merlin paused just a tick to gesture with his cane down towards the street, where a decades-old mini cooper blended into the background, it's miss-matched blues and greys looking a bit in need of a wash.
"Your car?" Will asked.
"Her name is Mollie. Not much to look at, but a good heart in her. And it's freezing out here, so for god's sake, get in."
"But… where are we going?"
Merlin already had the driver's side door open and had tossed his cane in. "My house, of course. I told you, I have tea. Also, unless it's decided to burn the whole place down, there's a Christmas bird in my oven that should be cooked by the time we get there. Or did you have other plans?"
Will blinked, drew breath to protest, but then let it out in a huff. If he'd had a mirror, he might've been able to see how completely baffled he looked in that moment. Christmas – Christmas dinner, with Merlin Emrys. No big deal. Of course not. What the hell, they'd been having coffee and biscuits and impromptu Welsh lessons for the past two months. And now Merlin was inviting him to his house – wait, Merlin had a house?
Lords, what would his family say?
Shrugging, and feeling a smug sort of grin rising, Will rushed forward and climbed into Mollie's creaky passenger seat. And then, they were off.
A/N: Alright, the bit with the Welsh I just couldn't help. I'm taking an introductory Welsh course this semester, and figured that if I could put it to use anywhere, it'd be somewhere in my Arthurian-themed stories. So there you are. Hopefully I've gotten all the grammar right.
It's a short chapter, but I hope y'all enjoyed it nonetheless!
