Hey Guys, again I know I am slow to update, but nonetheless I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think :)
Enjoy,
Wombaat x
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of the characters in this, just the story line.
CHAPTER 3: CONFUSION
"Arthur? But you're female?" Merlin exclaimed!
"Oh don't be absurd you blabbering fool-," Arthur retorted. However, he paused at the unusual high pitch of his voice. Arthur glanced down at his cloak-covered body; his chocolate eyes darkened as he cringed in confusion. It is true, he felt significantly smaller than his former self. His muscular form could have wilted in death. He stared once more at his soft hands, noticing how poised and graceful they appeared, how feminine they are.
The Great Dragon appeared amused, a small smile shaping his scaly mouth. Merlin watched on silently, eyes still riddled with shock. He watched his friend struggled in disbelief, violently shaking his hands as if to prove they were not his own. The wandering hands gracefully roamed the new body, stopping suddenly as they reached the chest, a curvaceous, breasted chest.
Those chocolate eyes snapped wide open, encased in a cage of fear and brimmed with threatening tears. Arthur's soft eyes bore pleadingly into Merlin's own. Arthur's body crumbled to the ground, trembling in defeat and shock.
Aithusa, come Little One, we must leave them to discuss,Kilgharrah murmured. Do not be afraid, Young Warlock; we are but a call away. You must assist Arthur come to terms with his new life. As I warned before, the future is clouded with uncertainty, but what is certain is that Arthur will need you in this life, more than he did in his last.
Merlin nodded slowly, eyes still attached to the shaking body, collapsed on the riverbank. The two great dragons took off and flew quickly into the endless daylight. Their wings were beating a rhythm that mimicked Merlin's own heartbeat. Looking towards the azure sky, Merlin could barely see the two dragons against the backdrop of the dark forest of ferns and the White Mountains.
A soft sob could be heard near the Avalon River. Merlin rushed over to the Arthur, embracing the feminine figure in his warm arms. He could feel watery tears staining his cloak. They sat frozen in their embrace as blood brothers united once more.
Merlin silently examined Arthur's new form. The Great King was imprisoned inside this petite, womanly physique. Merlin could understand Kilgharrah's slight amusement, oh the irony of Arthur's situation.
In his past life as Arthur, The Once and Future King of Camelot, he embodied all attributes of masculinity. He was a strapping young King, broad shouldered with a flawlessly sculptured body and rumoured to have a considerably large manhood. He prized his unequalled ability in combat and extensive skill in weaponry. He adored a woman's sultry touch and craved the release of sexual desire. Women longed to wrap their fingers in his golden hair, and have their tongues trace his plump, amaranth lips, engrossed in lust and desire.
Yet, Arthur was a gentle and kind King, always recalling upon honour and righteousness. He was selfless, for he endangered his own life on countless rescue missions for those who were considered servants, or mere commoners. To Arthur, the life of a servant was worth more than his own. His compassion transformed into love: an ancient magic, as old as time itself. For Arthur had fallen in love with a mere chambermaid, Guinevere. When he became King, Arthur had honoured her as Queen. She was the love of Arthur's life. She taught him that status does not decide the one you love.
Arthur believed that the strength of a Kingdom was not to be a strong, brutal King, but to rule justly in the favour of the people he loved, to protect them within the safety of Camelot. It was a lesson he grew to understand and respect with time.
Merlin silently chuckled to himself, reminiscing his first few days in Camelot. His first thoughts of Arthur were not of a good man, or even of a royal or future king. Then that first fateful night occurred; the first time Merlin saved the young prince's life. That fateful night awakened each of their destinies; Merlin to protect, and Arthur to unite. How far they both grew and matured, fostering the beginnings of a great friendship.
Now Arthur's time has come once more. Yet, he has risen as a woman. A beautiful woman, Merlin thought. The womanly Arthur radiated ravishing good looks, with her soft golden locks cascading in delicate waves down to her hips. Her remarkable chestnut eyes shimmered in the sunlight. Yet, those eyes resonated with the sentiments of the past. It was only through those eyes that one could glimpse at the spirit of the Great King, trapped within this foreign body.
Many queries hung in the crisp air between the two friends. For what could have happened in the land of Albion, for Arthur to return? Why of all the forms and being Arthur could have been reborn as, why did he rise as a woman?
"Are you perverted Merlin? Do not stare at me," snapped Arthur, shaking Merlin out of his trance. Merlin glanced down, guilt creeping into his expression. The woman's tears were dried; the only sign of emotion were the stains still sliding down her cheeks.
"Sorry Sire. You make for an interesting woman." Merlin chuckled. "Though, I am unsure whether to approach you as a man or woman. It's very confusing Sire."
"Confusing, Merlin? What is it you consider I feel?" Arthur's feminine voice gasped, enraged. "This is more than confusing. This is an outrage. The god's must be joking. What did the Great Dragon have to say about this? He must know something." Arthur's brow contorted, deep in thought; face slightly flustered in anger.
"I do not know, Sire. Kilgharrah mentioned that you need a great deal of help adjusting to your new life." Merlin resisted the ever-growing urge to chuckle at his friend's misfortune. However, a definitive smirk slowly screened his face.
"Help? I will need more than help. I do not know how to be a woman. They are confusing beings." Arthur admitted. There was a strange silence between the two.
"I would help you, Arthur," Merlin murmured gently.
"You… help me? What would you know about women? Have you ever been with a woman? No? I didn't think so," Arthur scoffed.
Merlin hung his head in shame. It is true; Merlin had not been with a woman. He deemed his suffering and the haunting memories of his past too monumental to disregard. He had not seen a woman in a century, aside from Arthur's new womanly form. Yet, over the century, Merlin had only thought of the woman he abandoned; Arthur's wife and his Queen. He saw images of a desperate and grave Guinevere that were burned into the forefront of his mind. She was crying, begging him, scolding him, and haunting him.
"At least, you would have some help," Merlin whispered.
"I know, I apologise," Arthur replied, nodding.
"Do I address you as a man or as a woman? What shall I call you? I cannot call you Arthur, because it is a boy's name, and you are not a boy. Though, you were male, and I knew you as one. We have to give you a new name and I cannot call you Sire anymore, either - ," Merlin babbled rapidly.
"Oh Merlin, shut up," Arthur shouted. "I forgot how annoying you were."
"Well I have to name you something. How about Arianne?" asked Merlin. Arthur's chestnut eyes widened in shock; disgust contorting her mouth.
"Definitely not!" Arthur barked. Disgust dripped like venom seeping through her words. The innocence of Arthur's features was replaced by a vile veneer. It was an anomalous sight to behold; moreover a contradiction where sight and sound did not align. Merlin pondered if this was an ability embedded within the nature of a woman, to appear so innocent and yet a façade can effortlessly invade.
"Why not? It is close enough to Arthur and I think you would make a suitable Arianne," Merlin chuckled heartily. He was enjoying this game, as it reminded him of the ease of their friendship.
"I once slept with a tavern maiden whose name was Arianne," Arthur confessed with flushed cheeks.
"Surprised you remember her name," Merlin snickered, muttering beneath his breath. It was no secret that prior to Guinevere; Arthur gallivanted around Camelot seeking lovely maidens and some princesses whom ensnared his attention. Arthur glared viscously at Merlin.
"How about Arya?" Merlin suggested. "It is quite feminine and if I recall correctly means 'Noble Goddess'. Though you are not a Goddess, however you were once born of noble blood, not in this life, I might add."
"Merlin, do I really need to repeat myself? Shut up". Merlin obeyed out of habit. Although he knew, he maintained a tendency to blather from the theme. "Arya," Arthur contemplated, letting drip like honey from her lips, and seeping into her soul. She nodded to herself. The name would suit her well.
Merlin observed silently, shifting in the nook he created on the emerald grass of the bank. There was much he needed to discuss, with Arthur. Arya, now, Merlin corrected himself.
"I have been awaiting your return for many winters now," Merlin spoke gently. Undertones of unease and worry warped themselves around his words.
"How long have you waited? How long has it been?" Arya's voice quivered and questioned, tears threatened to fall once more.
"A century has passed my old friend," Merlin whispered softly. "It has been a long, and harsh century since you left us."
Arya's breath hitched at the sound of 'us'. Memories of what she left behind in her old life engulfed her in a cover of grief. The lives she swore to protect as The Once and Future King, Arthur Pendragon were no more. Arya hoped that when they passed on, they rose into a peaceful, heavenly realm.
"What of Camelot? Of Guinevere? Of Gaius and our friends?" Arya rapidly asked. "What came of our friends, my Queen and our home?"
This is the very moment Merlin feared. That familiar cloud of growing guilt shifted itself deep in his very being. A deep rumble resounded from Merlin's chest. The truth was bursting to escape from inside him, though it remained ensnared in a lasso of fear.
Panic. Guilt. Disappointment. Betrayal. These feelings taunted him, dancing viciously around his darkening heart. You abandoned them Merlin.
Merlin's heartbeat quickened in jagged beats, he knew he could not delay answering Arya even more so. Slowly, Merlin whispered, staring down at the corner of his red cloak, he did not realise he was grasping so tight.
"Camelot fell, Sire".
Upon his confession, Merlin could sense the fury thickening in the atmosphere, radiating from Arya.
"Camelot fell." Arya stated. "Camelot fell?!" she yelled. She caught herself and lowered her voice. "Camelot could not have fallen, with you as our protector".
Realisation dawned upon her, begging herself for the truth to be a lie, begging for another explanation for why their home crumbled deep, only to remembered within legend. She looked to Merlin, tears falling freely down her flushed and angry cheeks. Merlin, glanced at her, his tear path mimicked hers. Their eyes met in a moment of despair and grief. In that moment, Arya knew. She crumbled to the ground.
"I did not return to Camelot," Merlin whispered. Merlin attempted to wrap his arms around her, as though he could shield her from the truth.
"Do not touch me, Sorcerer." Arya spat at him. "You betrayed Camelot, Guinevere, and Gaius. Never mind that Gaius considered you a son. You betrayed them. You betrayed me."
Merlin flinched at the title she gave him and the venomous words she spat at him. "Arthur, please." Merlin slipped back into Arya's old name, willing her to recall their friendship as Arthur and Merlin.
"I did not mean for any of it to happen. After you passed, I felt lost and confused. I was unsure of my path. How could I face Guinevere, knowing I could not save you, knowing that I let her true love perish when I made promises to protect you upon my own life?
"How could I face Gaius, who taught me so many things about magic, when I wasn't strong enough to save you? How could I face the knights, our friends, who lay down their lives to protect you, when I still existed and you did not? Tell me Arthur, how could I, have returned when I had already spent too long locked away in shackles of my own shame."
Merlin began to wheeze and cough. The truth no longer constricted inside him, it moved freely in the thick air between himself and Arya. He inhaled deeply, letting the truth encase him. He could not deny his wrongdoings. However, he could begin to seek forgiveness.
Arya, glared at Merlin. She willed herself not to understand his reasons, so she could maintain her justified anger at him. However, she had never seen Merlin so broken, so latched onto grief and despair. She knew he felt the extreme guilt. It would forever taunt him, be a shadow in his life, forever following and never disappearing.
With a deep authoritative nod to herself, she gathered what dignity remained in her unfamiliar self. Arya knew, no matter of the past she needed Merlin now, more than ever. Without acknowledging his confession or offering forgiveness, she stood taking in the beauty that was Avalon.
"Come, Merlin. We must find out why I have returned."
Do you guys think Arya/Arthur will forgive Merlin? From now only Arthur will be solely referred to as his female counterpart so there's no confusion (Unless there is a need to reveal to someone her past identity)
