Oh my god, let me just begin by saying that the loveliness of all your reviews are blowing me away. Honestly, thank you. Also, I apologise if maybe Hermione may be a little vague in character at the moment, but it'll become clear why in the next couple of chapters, and I'll try to work on that a little.
I hope you enjoy, and as always, let me know what you honestly think. Don't be afraid to ask questions if you have any.
Deexx
P.S I accidentally Merlinpotterlocked but don't get mad, it'll only be for this chapter.
The three of them collapsed, soaking with water, coughing and spluttering on the bank of the lake. Hermione was still attempting to get her breath back by the time Merlin was dragging Arthur backward, leaning him up against the tree. Despite the cold, Merlin's hands were steady as he frantically rushed to check the king over and make sure he was unharmed.
"St-stop. Hey, M-Mer-Merlin, stoppit! St-stop fussing, m'okay" he slurred, eyes half lidded, body limp and heavy. He was dressed in chainmail and armour covered with red fabric embroidered with a golden dragon.
He looked young, strong with charming features, creamy skin, blonde hair and cool blue eyes. Just like Merlin had described in his story and nothing like books and drawings depicted the legendary King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot.
She struggled to find the strength to push herself up on her hands and knees, but eventually got there, crawling up against a neighbouring tree to rest.
It was as though being in the water had put a strain on her magical DNA, like the power that normally flowed through her veins had weakened slightly. It had happened before when she'd overworked herself, it only took a couple of days rest and sleep to restore full aptitude; but this was strange. She had only been swimming.
"Merlin" Arthur breathed. She watched in fascination as the exhausted man gently caught Merlin's arm to prevent him from looking for signs of injury.
"Arthur" he replied. Normal ears would not have been able to pick up the sound but suddenly, Arthur had grabbed Merlin with surprising power and pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace, face completely buried in his shoulder. The two men simply sat there for at least a minute, just getting the lack of contact out of their system, remembering each other, taking each other in.
"Merlin" Arthur said, voice muffled.
"Hmm?" he answered.
"What the bloody hell are you wearing?"
"Merlin, are you sure this is a good idea?" Hermione said apprehensively whilst Arthur attempted to read the words on her phone upside down and proceeded to begin poking the screen, a confused look on his face.
"Yeah sure, he's not a simpleton, he's got this" Merlin said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders "although there was the time when I had to spell his will away..."
"Shut up, we don't talk about that... or that outfit you put me in... or the fact that you tricked me into travelling with smugglers for two days" Arthur snapped. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and nodded with a sigh, standing up and walking over to Arthur, crouching in front of him athletically.
"Uhhh... Arthur, you... do you want to go for dinner and the library?" she asked, unsure of how to address him properly.
"Merlin, who's this and why is she looking at me like I'm an alien?" Arthur remarked, eyeing Hermione up and down with interest. She blushed under the scrutiny a little, but remained composed.
"Arthur, it's the year 2012, things have changed a little bit. Hermione only sees people dressed the way you are in story books" Merlin said, getting a glare from his old friend before he turned his attention to Hermione again.
"She's barely dressed. To they let women walk around like this?... I sort of like it" Arthur smirked, getting an involuntary laugh from Hermione who rolled her eyes to the ceiling and bit down on her lip to contain her amusement. He was being rather objectifying, she ought to throw an insult at him or something; but she couldn't help it, Arthur Pendragon was checking her out.
"I need a horse to ride into town on; it should take about half a day, but I want to see how much things have 'changed'. Seriously though Merlin, don't tell me I have to wear that?" he said and Hermione smiled almost fondly. So it was sort of adorable that the legendary King Arthur was completely at loss as to the conventions of modern day society.
"Uhhh... we don't use horses much anymore mate, it's cars now" Merlin replied, also trying his best not to burst out into laughter and the King's obliviousness.
"What's a car? I don't like this, it's too different. How long is it going to take you to get us back? And also, you're due for a long telling off about that bloody magic of yours, I was sort of otherwise engaged when I found out and I'm still trying to process it" he added, pointing at Merlin.
"A car is like a steel metal container with wheels that carry people to and from places faster than horses" Hermione explained, capturing Arthur's low attention span again.
"Can you... navigate one of these things? I feel very violated right now... and I mean it you, we... uhh... we need to talk about... things" Arthur said, eyes flickering hesitantly back over to Merlin who blushed scarlet and began ruffling his own hair and biting his lip.
"Right... yes... I know-"
"Oh for fuck sake, you guys can have make up sex later on; we have more important things to deal with right now; like how the hell you're getting back to your own time" Hermione cut him off. Arthur's jaw dropped open before closing again and he looked at her as though she'd just stripped naked and done the cancan.
"Women of the new age are extremely outspoken and scantily dressed, really Merlin, how do you deal with all this?" he said, completely taken aback.
"Lord knows" he muttered and Hermione threw a cushion at him, narrowing her eyes.
"OI!" she scolded, earning a smirk from Arthur.
"Not that it's a bad thing of course, she seems to be good at keeping you in order" Arthur grinned, feigning innocence when Merlin pouted at the both of them like they were children ganging up on him in a playground.
"You have no idea" he sighed, chucking a zip up hoodie, t-shirt and jeans at Arthur, gesturing at him to put them on.
"What's this?" he frowned and Hermione smiled again, holding up the t-shirt.
"It's your clothes. We need to go to the library and you need to blend in" she said, pushing back up to full height and fanning her face with her hand, pulling her leather jacket from her shoulders and throwing it over the sofa.
"You can't tell me what to do, I'm King" he snapped and she chuckled, nodding.
"Maybe so, but I'm the cleverest witch of my age, so if you don't get dressed, I'm going to undress you with a click of my fingers and stand here staring at your dick until you cover yourself up"
"Arthur, shut up! You can't wear armor and chainmail in 2012!" Merlin hissed, slapping Arthur's hand away from where he was fussing with the t-shirt he had on.
"John will you be quiet it is perfectly acceptable for me to stand on a chair and calculate the distance between the toilet and this bookshelf in public, no one's complaining!" a strong, deep well rounded English accent cut through Merlin's attention, diverting it from his whining friend, to a bookcase nearby.
"You there, witch, you look clever, come here" the voice said and Merlin's mouth dropped open, eyebrows hitting the top of his head. He moved immediately, going to stand next to Hermione, looking up at the man suspended up higher by one of the library chairs.
"Excuse me, without sounding rude; who the hell do you think you are, ordering her about?" Merlin said, with every intention of being out of line. Who the hell did this long coated prick think he was?
"Right, sorry mate; long day, he's a bit worked up" another shorter man said from behind the guy, looking embarrassed and apologetic.
"That's nice, but you're not the one being insolent and high almighty. Excuse me, yoohoo, pretty boy, you owe my friend an apology" Merlin said. Hermione pursed her lips and bowed her head slightly to hide her amusement at the man's returning expression. Whoever this was, he obviously was not used to being called up much on his attitude. Or maybe he was, and just found it surprising that acting like a douche to strangers wasn't a social norm.
"John, what am I supposed to say?" the man whispered, arching one eyebrow and lowering the other in confusion, not taking his eyes of Merlin.
"For gods sake Sherlock just say sorry" John snapped, looking irritated and fed up.
"Right then, I apologise. Miss witch, will you please come here so I can judge the height of the bookcase with the top of your skull? You're taller than John... but then again, everyone is taller than John" the man said.
"Is no one going to comment on the fact that he called me a witch?"
"That's because you are one"
"How-"
"The wand poking out the top of your boot slightly" he said "not to mention the fact that I can smell the nightmare vine on you. Dreamless sleep potion is very difficult to make from scratch that's how I knew you were clever, and you have a smudge of cauldron dust on your left earlobe that tells me that you did in fact brew your own batch.
Nightmares then, I'm guessing a war-witch fresh from the recent battle, two or three years to be exact. And you have brown, curly hair, brown eyes and an imposing posture; I'd say that I am in the presence of the famous Miss Hermione Granger, but of course, I could be mistaken"
Hermione frowned at him for a few seconds before her mouth twisted into an impressed smile and she folded her arms over her chest, looking back and forth from John, to her conversationalist.
"Well then, of course, I'd have to assume that I am talking to the one and only Sherlock Holmes"
John's eyebrows hit the top of his head as his eyes darted down to the hilt of her wand poking out the top of her leather boot.
"Sherlock, remember you can't say things like that out loud, she's under that law thing that says she can't flaunt her magic; this guy with her could be a muggle like us"
"But he's not, he's a three thousand year old warlock legend" Sherlock drawled, gesturing for Hermione to move. Surprisingly, she did so without argument and allowed him to do his 'judging'.
"Okay, phone Lestrade then, let him know his killer is the ginger midget. Thank you Miss Granger – oh and look here John, this is Arthur Pendragon" Sherlock grinned patronizingly, jumping down from where he was stood and getting right up in Arthur's face, circling him as though he could be examining a historical artifact.
"What – you're telling me – you're telling me that is freaking King Arthur? Bloody hell Sherlock, c'mon, I think you've had enough crime solving today. Sorry about all this Miss- uh – Granger. He's still recovering from um – well, from fatigue. Went away for a couple of months, spent too long in isolation, still a bit not right in the head" John said, looking annoyed and flustered as he pulled Sherlock away from them and back out of the double doors of the library, ignoring all his protests that he was simply fascinated by such a specimen.
"Come on Arthur, I think Hermione's got the books we need now, right? Let's sit"
"How many times am I going to have to remind you that I am the King and you are the manservant and that you don't tell me what to do?"
"At least a dozen more" Merlin said under his breath, putting his hands on Arthur's shoulders and turning him back to the table where their bags were, helping Hermione lift the books she'd gathered.
"Okay, so obviously because it's a Muggle library, there isn't a lot on how to send the most legendary double act in history, back to the seventh century. But for the moment, I think these are going to be of most use to us. Arthur, can you read New English or..."
"Probably best for him to stick to the ones written in the old language" Merlin intercepted, nodding as she passed him a very large, very old brown leather bound book, smiling at him despite his look of extreme lack of enthusiasm.
"When it's the weekend, I'll take you up to my old wizarding school and I'll pass it with the headmistress so we can look through the library in there. We can go see some of the professors as well, there are a few whom I know will have some sort of information for you" she said, setting out at least ten books across the wooden table and Merlin nodded once, grateful but passive. She knew he had other things on his mind as well.
They spent the rest of the day going through every single book that had any trace of old magic written within it. Through history, magical authors tended to accidentally lose their editions amongst Muggle literature and so a lot of the texts and themes became muddled and ended up in backstreet or small town Muggle libraries and book shops, passing for random ramblings of old codgers who were mistaking children's stories with reality and facts.
Arthur was scanning through the books in Olde English quite fast, much to Hermione's surprise. She knew the King wasn't dumb, but she'd not expected him to be quite as studious. Apparently he wanted to get back to his own time more than she had originally observed.
They were looking for so long in fact, that they forgot that they were even in the same room, let alone in the middle of a public library. It was only when the keeper came in to tell them that lock up was in fifteen minutes, that Hermione glanced up to see Arthur snoring on the table, head leaning on Merlin's left arm as he used the right one to turn the pages.
"He's tired" she croaked, voice quiet from lack of use and he drew in a deep, rattly breath, nodding.
"Well, he has been dead for three thousand years, that's bound to take it out of him" Merlin shrugged, face quite expressionless as he closed the book and nudged Arthur awake.
"Come on Sire, we need to leave, it's getting dark" Merlin said quietly and softly. Apparently he was somewhat of an expert in dealing with the stubborn, half awake and fragile looking young King. She was surprised when he addressed him by his royalty, but guessed that it was simply a force of habit and couldn't help her small smile as he pushed the books into a pile in the middle of the table and took Arthur by the arm, helping him to his feet.
"I wish I could levitate him or something, but I'm not a big fan of going to jail" she sighed, taking Arthur's other arm firmly and helping him to walk.
"I didn't realise he was this tired" she added, but gave up when it was clear Merlin was not in the state of mind for idle conversation.
There was silence as she called for a taxi at the side of the road. Merlin wordlessly allowed her to support Arthur's weight as he covered him with his hoodie against the rain, and helped her slowly move him into the car.
"Student flats outside the University please" Hermione said with the required quirk of her mouth once she had closed the back door and slipped into the front passenger seat. The driver nodded once, starting the car quickly.
Every few minutes, she would turn her head ever so slightly to see the men in the back seat. By the third time, they did not resemble men at all, but boys who were simply exhausted with the trials and suffering their long lives had brought them. Two boys who loved each other deeply, scarily. It was almost intimidating actually, and for a second, their love frightened her. But then she remembered the way she felt about Harry, and the way he felt about her.
And she knew, with a thud of her heart, in a soundless car where no one was doing much but thinking, that she too would have sat by a lakeside for three thousand years if it meant she would have the chance of seeing his face one more time.
Merlin's flat was dark and warm at three in the morning when she normally woke, either from a nightmare or from the simple fact that her body was on that routinized unconscious alarm clock.
She could sort of make out the shapes of things around her as she moved through the living room into the kitchen, turning the lamp on in the corner so that she didn't wake Arthur on the sofa.
She turned the kettle on and put a silencing charm on it, hugging herself tighter in her overly large Quidditch jumper that she'd stolen from Harry's wardrobe to wear through those lonely nights when she had first moved to this new city.
She yawned widely, blinking away the wetness it left in her eyes. Things were very blurry and restless. There was a feeling of confusion and unsaid words in the air. She was hurting inside... well, actually, it was more of a dread.
She had been quite lonely for a long time. Recovering from the war had been hard, possibly even worse when she had subjected herself to completing such a task alone. She met up with Cassie sometimes, and Harry popped around to see her whenever he could get time off work or supporting Ginny and his newborn son James. But her therapist had told her that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder would have the effect of social dysfunction for her.
Merlin had been her first proper escape from that, he'd been someone who she could relate to, but also someone new who she knew nothing about. She hadn't had to pretend to be happy with him, she didn't need to explain herself or stutter a stupid line of incoherency about why she was randomly crying or snapping or smiling genuinely and widely. He had just accepted her.
And now he was leaving. She couldn't stop him, she wasn't that selfish. He had suffered more than she could ever imagine, he'd seen things that she'd never seen, felt things that she had never felt and been alone with his thoughts for longer than should ever be allowed. He deserved to get his happiness back, to be with the person that made him complete, to see all his true friends and family again.
So she was doing the only thing she could think to do, she was helping him. She was helping Arthur.
She sighed, closing her eyes and pushing away the pain niggling at the pit of her gut, moving forward and leaning over the counter, unable to help the broken, gentle smile creeping along her mouth as she laid eyes on Merlin wrapped around Arthur, a blanket loosely draped over them.
It looked as though they had been too tired to even change into night clothes – or none at all – and had just collapsed and passed out.
She missed that more than anything. Falling asleep with the person she was in love with, feeling that incredible warmth, that heat, that soft tickle of skin against her own, the simple connection of body against body.
Ron hadn't always been particularly affectionate, and tended to be more about his own pleasure than anything. Sweet, but too blundered and immature. She did used to love the feeling of just falling asleep in his arms though; safe, secure, invincible.
She almost began giggling about how freaking oblivious the two were to their feelings for each other. It could never be a public relationship for them though. If they were to go back to their own time, they could never be together and out to the whole of their city. Homosexuality was punishable by death in those days.
Although, Arthur seemed to be one to change and bend laws if he saw any type of potential, if he thought at least one person would believe in his decision, then he would make it. And he was the King after all, as he frequently reminded her; if he really wanted, he could raise the ban on homosexuality.
She turned back to make her cup of tea, still tired and numb and wondering what crazy shenanigans the next day would bring.
