Arthur blew out a huge, put upon sigh as he flipped a page in the book he was reading. His brain was dying, stretched thin by too much information and too many nonsensical theories.
"Philosophy still?"
Arthur's eyes swiveled to the woman cutting fruit on a counter across from the table he occupied. "He insists on it."
Marg snickered. "At least your language has improved enough to read it."
"This one's his," Arthur noted, tapping on a tome Merlin had penned himself especially for his king. "But it doesn't help. I still have to read each sentence ten times before it even makes a hint of sense."
Marg approached, setting a bowl of fruit salad in front of him. "Between you and me, I think philosophy's mostly over-thinking."
"You studied it?" Arthur asked, picking up the bowl and spooning a delicious combination of berries and apples into his mouth.
"Only because Merlin thought I should know something of it. He thinks many of the philosophers grasped aspects of magic and its importance but without calling it what it is."
Arthur rubbed at his eyes with one hand. "I'm going blind over it." He glared at the book and slammed it shut. "I never excelled at study. Merlin's always possessed more wisdom than I'll ever have."
Marg smiled and chortled. Arthur looked at her sharply, annoyed she'd laugh at his expense. She reached across and grasped his hand not holding a spoon. "You balance him."
Arthur stared at her for a moment, spooning another bite into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed. "Two sides of the coin again."
Marg nodded and leaned back, letting go. "He analyzes so much. Tries to come up with answers and explanations. I think he's had too much time to explore and wrestle some sense out of this maddening, messed up world."
Arthur smiled to himself. Well, if he'd been fated to live through the ages, he might have needed to make it all work out somehow, too. Merlin had always been on about destiny anyway. After all these years, maybe he just wanted a rational explanation for his forced immortality.
"You have this knack for charging right to the heart of a matter without needing any of that mumbo jumbo." Marg waved a hand at the book. "You don't need to sift through evidence and proof and logic. Your heart knows what is right and acts on it."
Heat bloomed in Arthur's cheeks at the unexpected extolling of his ways. Truth was, all this study made him feel overwhelmed and less capable. He didn't doubt there was a purpose for him; Merlin championing such was enough for him. But the present people of Albion lived completely different lives from his own. He would have to understand and act on fifteen hundred years of knowledge, become one of them to accomplish whatever destiny required of him.
Arthur sighed again and locked eyes with Marg. "These are my people. Albion isn't what I used to know, but it's the same land and I have to help them or defend them or something..." He laid a palm on the book. "Still, I don't think I'm ever going to truly comprehend them." He stood, slumping through the door with the book clutched to his breast, deciding to give up for the time being and rest his addled brain.
Merlin looked over when the door to his menagerie creaked open.
"Marg! Come see."
His faithful protégée sauntered to his side, peering down into an aquarium. "It's grown"
Merlin nodded eagerly. "And you can see the embryo now." He studied the round egg about the size of an apple and its foggy, translucent white color that provided a window into the development of the creature.
"So you think it will live?"
"I hope so. Can you imagine? Aithusa won't be the only dragon left anymore."
Marg nodded. "Good for her. She deserves it. But will she be as happy with a sea dragon?"
Merlin smiled. "I think she'd be happy with any dragon. Besides, all my research indicates it can live in the lake."
"Speaking of research..."
Merlin had crouched down, marveling at the dragon fetus. It jerked rhythmically, its heart already pumping blood. Survive, little one. You can. You must. He didn't know if his words could be heard, but maybe, just maybe his dragonlord ability could be sensed even now.
A sorcerer from the Conclave had come upon the egg in the Scottish Highlands, surprised when the call of magic guided him to a small pond. He brought it back for Merlin's evaluation and both of them were thrilled when they figured out what it was. Apparently, it had lain dormant without growth until someone came along who possessed the power to awaken it. Merlin wondered if a dragonlord had hidden it there to protect it just like Ashkanar had Aithusa's egg.
"Um hm," Merlin replied absently to Marg.
"I want to talk to you about Arthur."
"Arthur?" Merlin questioned, looking up and straightening.
"He needs to leave this house." Marg's expression had tightened, revealing the look she displayed when she knew she was right, but expected an argument.
"Another hunt? I suppose we could. It's getting colder these days."
"I mean beyond the wards. Take him to town."
Merlin's heart skipped a beat. "It's not time," he returned quickly and definitively.
"How long will you keep him cooped up here?"
"Marg―"
"I know. You fear what will happen, but you're ignoring what staying here is doing to him. He's not like you. He's not meant to sit around and stagnate."
Merlin took offense. "I don't stagnate."
Marg huffed. "All right, you travel. You learn. But you sit down with a book and get lost for hours. Arthur isn't like that. He's not you."
Merlin narrowed his eyes. Maybe he shouldn't have let Marg reveal her connection to Arthur. Those two had become thick as thieves. "Did he put you up to this?"
"No!" Marg declared in exasperation. She put a hand on his arm. "He's wearing. He needs to see the people he's come back for. Give him a reason to preserve in his studies."
Merlin clenched his jaw. He'd tried to avoid this kind of thing, resisting Arthur's further destiny. Even though he'd vowed to serve him throughout, he wasn't ready for it. What if another Camlann lurked on the horizon, ready to pounce and lead Arthur to a final doom?
Marg's grip on his arm strengthened when he said nothing. "You've waited for this your entire life, planned for his return. Has it all been a waste?"
Merlin bit his cheek, angry because she was completely and utterly right. "It might frighten him," he mumbled.
"Even if it does, he has to meet his people sometime. He has to see Albion."
Merlin concentrated on the dragon egg. He thought ahead several months, imagining its development to its emergence when he named it. It would take its place in a world that assumed its existence myth and if ever exposed, might find itself feared. Arthur―did he dare let the world get its hooks into his cherished friend? But if he didn't, what destiny might be lost by his cowardice?
Merlin peeked into Arthur's room to find him standing on the far side staring at the portrait of Gwen surrounded by his descendants. He cleared his throat and Arthur turned, casually rubbing at his eyes as if something irritated them.
"I haven't finished it yet." He gestured at the book abandoned on the table.
Merlin smiled and stepped inside, considering the philosophical tome. "You hate it."
Arthur crossed his arms as he came towards him. "It has...some good ideas."
Merlin ran an eye over his friend, his taut shoulders, worn eyes, subdued expression. He hadn't paid enough attention. He'd been all too happy to keep Arthur his he'd missed his friend's deterioration. No more. "I'd like to go out this afternoon."
Arthur walked away from him, pacing like a caged animal. "I'm not really in the mood for a hunt or a hike."
"To town."
Arthur turned on his heel, eyes wide in disbelief. "I thought you didn't want me going beyond the wards."
Merlin shrugged.
"Why now then?"
"You have to meet your people some time."
Arthur looked...there was no word for it but scared and it bothered Merlin. He'd neglected Arthur's nature, instructing him with books when he should have been giving him experience. He sighed and sat down at Arthur's table, opening a different book he'd brought. "And I'm going to prepare you."
Arthur wandered over. "That's you." It was a photo album, and unlike the memorial wall in the library, it contained photographs taken in mundane settings rather than staged portraits.
"It's one of my most recent ones," Merlin explained.
"What's that?" Arthur pointed at one photograph where Merlin stood next to a contraption, chest puffed out proudly.
Merlin grinned. "First motor I owned." At Arthur's raised eyebrow, he explained further. "Transportation. Like a horse, but it's a machine."
Arthur slipped into a seat next to him at the table. "Tell me what I need to know."
"We're almost there."
"You don't have to be worry, Merlin."
"I'm fine."
"That's why I can't feel my arm anymore." Arthur wiggled his arm and Merlin released him.
"It's only a simple visit," a voice behind them spoke up, Marg with a couple bags dangling from her forearm. "And about time, too. I'll visit the grocers and bakery."
When they reached the town, Arthur worked hard to school his features, appear as if he'd been traipsing around modern villages every day of his life. Unfortunately, it was one thing to see them in Merlin's photographs and quite another to behold them in reality. First, there was the noise, a foreign sensation when it wasn't simply the chatting of people and cries of animals, but punctuated by automobiles and other machines he couldn't identify. Then there were the people themselves who wore strange clothing, some of it downright indecent. And the buildings, odd things made with brick and mortar. Finally there were little changes that unnerved him―paved roads, wire fences, tiled roofs, storefront windows, a clanging clock, and more.
When they stopped for Marg to shop at the bakery, he felt suddenly woozy, all the weight of this new world and his inadequacy to face it hitting him at once. He clenched his teeth. He was King Arthur. He'd faced down dragons and armies of the dead and evil sorcerers intent on his death. One little town couldn't do this to him. It wouldn't.
"Arthur?"
"Hm?"
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"You're a little pale."
Arthur took a deep breath. "It's just a lot to take in at once."
Merlin scanned his eyes and seemed panicked. "I shouldn't have let you out."
Arthur snorted. "You make me sound like a newborn pup confined in a kennel."
"You weren't ready. This was a stupid idea." Merlin's hand pressed against his forehead, searching for fever, maybe? Arthur swiped it away.
"Stop mothering me!"
"You look like you're about to fall over."
"I'm not."
Marg emerged. "Well, let's... What's wrong with you?" Her eyes ran up and down Arthur.
Arthur threw up his hands. "Nothing! Let's move on." He made to step ahead, then faltered, knees going weak. He put a hand out to brace himself against a wall.
Merlin wrapped on arm around his shoulders. "We're going back."
"No," Arthur growled, trying to shove him away.
"Oh heavens," a voice exclaimed.
Arthur glanced up at its familiarity and found himself meeting the green eyes of Merlin's great-great-great whatever grand-daughter, Elaine.
"Can I help?" she asked.
"No," Merlin muttered, and then she was scrutinizing him.
"Wait. I gave you a lift months ago."
Arthur managed a smirk at Merlin's chagrined expression at being remembered.
"You live around here?"
"Outside of town," Merlin grumbled.
"And I saw you...at the lake." She'd looked to Arthur whose cheeks reddened remembering their last encounter when he'd hastened away from her in turmoil.
"He's my grandson," Merlin explained quickly.
"We should take him back home," Marg interjected. Elaine looked at her.
"My housekeeper," Merlin said.
"My home is near. You're welcome."
"No, we don't want to impose," Merlin insisted.
"Really," Elaine said, smiling in a way Arthur thought rather Merlin-like. "It's no imposition." She grasped Arthur's arm to help him along, tugging him forwards.
Arthur slowly sipped a cup of hot tea and steadied his breathing. He had to admit resting in an overstuffed easy chair with half a crumpet on a side table, and this delicious brew in his hands, made him feel a lot better.
Elaine had been trying to carry on a conversation, but Merlin's answers were clipped and grouchy. She must think him a crotchety curmudgeon. Marg responded more tactfully and in more detail, though careful not to reveal anything indicating exactly who they were.
Arthur watched Merlin with some amusement. The warlock had seemed so put together since he'd returned, in control and in charge, their positions from yesteryear such a reversal it was satisfactory watching him struggle to handle the current situation.
"And you," Elaine indicated him, tilting her head a little and smiling. "What's your name?"
Merlin's gaze snapped to him in warning.
"Eh...Leon."
"Are you feeling better?"
Arthur nodded but before she could ask anything else he interrupted. "You had a book on King Arthur when I first met you."
"Oh. Yes. I was looking over some details for my thesis."
Merlin's eyes were about popping out of his head. Arthur plunged ahead anyway.
"Do you have any more?"
"In the library." She pointed with a finger. "If my father were here, he'd love to show you around."
Arthur stood. Merlin looked like he might explode. "I can manage on my own, if you don't mind."
Elaine nodded encouragingly.
Arthur continued, addressing Merlin. "You stay here, grandfather." He looked at Elaine. "Long walks aggravate his old bones. He needs to rest."
Arthur stifled a laugh as Merlin's eyes threw daggers at him. He left the lounge, moving across the hall through an open door. The library was much smaller than Merlin's, but as he circled it, reading over titles in the bookshelves, he noted chock-full of books about him or Camelot or Merlin. Well, Merlin had said Elaine's father had amassed a collection on them. He was rather glad the man wasn't here. He'd hate to hear those ridiculous legends gushed about.
One book caught his eye, titled The Once and Future King. He pulled it off the shelf, thumbing through it. Most of it seemed silly and nonsensical, but he read a little at the end. Arthur the character was about to go to battle, to fight a war he'd never wanted. He'd tried to change the way of men and failed. Arthur closed the book and shoved it back into its place.
He darted towards the doorway, but stopped when a framed print tacked just inside it commanded his attention, a quote of surrounded by flowery artistry. He read.
"Consequently, when the Pevensie children had returned
to Narnia last time for their second visit,
it was (for the Narnians) as if
King Arthur came back to Britain
as some people say he will.
And I say the sooner the better."
C.S. Lewis
Arthur moved into the hall and fled out the front door.
Merlin fiddled with the empty tea cup between his long fingers. Too much time had passed. What could Arthur be doing? He rose, excusing himself from the delighted chatter between Marg and Elaine. He stepped quickly into the library and didn't see Arthur. Where had he wandered off to? He sent his sight zooming around the house whose structure was known to him, but his friend was nowhere to be seen. He must have left. Confound it! He shouldn't be running around on his own!
He exited without making any noise. He didn't need their two descendants running after him running after Arthur. He sent his sight out once more as he stalked ahead. He caught Arthur's back as he left the town, headed back onto the forest path towards his estate.
Merlin ran, employing his sight when no one was paying attention. Arthur wasn't going to back to the mansion, but towards the lake. Merlin dropped his sight, ducked around the corner of a house and muttered under his breath. His older form faded and he felt energy surge. He didn't know why, but his younger form always seemed to revitalize him, even though his energy as an older man rarely flagged.
Arthur was fast. He'd almost reached the lake by the time Merlin caught up to him. "Arthur! Arthur, stop!"
His friend kept on, accelerating.
"Clotpole!" Merlin shouted. He finally caught up, his heart about pounding right out of his chest. He stumbled and Arthur clutched at his arm.
"You've been sitting around reading books too much," Arthur chastised.
"Why...why'd...you take off...like that?"
Arthur's teasing expression vanished. "I need to know." He stomped off again, Merlin faltering after him.
"Know what?"
"Why I'm here."
"I've told you―"
"You don't know. I will know."
"Arthur..."
Arthur began running again, Merlin cursing behind him. He reached the shore of the lake and shouted. "I'm here! I'm ready! Tell me! Why have you brought me back?"
Merlin's feet pattered up to him. Arthur dashed to the boat still resting where it had hit the shore after he awoke. He reached down to push it in, but Merlin's hand was on his arm. "Arthur, what are you trying to do?"
Arthur stood up, shrugging away from his grip. "I'm going to find out what I need to do so I can get it over with."
Merlin was taken aback. "Get it over with?"
"Fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it. Okay, yes, it needs me. Fine. Can I just do what it wants so I can be free of it?"
Merlin stared for a second, reading a frustration he recognized oh so well. "I know how you feel."
"You can't know!" Arthur shouted angrily. "You don't have any idea what it is to wake up in a world where you shouldn't even exist and know you have to do something but no one can even tell you what it is!"
Merlin scowled. "I know what it's like to bear destiny on your shoulders. To have everyone depending on you even if they don't know it, and if you make one wrong step it will all be for naught. And then it does go wrong and you end up holding your best friend as he dies and your heart's being ripped out of your chest and you set him on a lake and feel you'll never live again."
Arthur's mouth hung open, words jammed in his throat.
"So I know exactly what it's like to have a destiny...and fail."
"Merlin," Arthur whispered.
Merlin glanced around the shore. "After you died, I stayed here a month hoping you'd come back. You didn't." He cursed as tears shone in his eyes and he wiped at them.
Arthur stepped closer to him. "You didn't fail, though. I've read of the Golden Age you and Gwen and Carwyn made for Camelot."
Merlin grunted. "But you weren't there. You should have been."
Arthur stared into his friend's pained gaze, seeing for the first time how the ages had worn on the warlock, how his absence had affected him. "I was meant to be here now. I had to die."
"Then why didn't anyone tell me I was supposed to fail? Why did they make it seem I could save you? I hate destiny, Arthur. I hated fearing it every day of my life. I hate fearing it now!" He shook, weeping.
Arthur closed the distance, gripping Merlin by the shoulders and pulling him in. The warlock held him tightly, head buried in his neck as he cried.
"It wasn't fair how it happened for you," Arthur tried to comfort. Maybe it wasn't fair for both of them, their lives playthings of fate. For a fleeting moment, Arthur almost suggested they leave, destiny be damned. But then he thought of Marg and Elaine. Could they simply walk away and leave their descendants to whatever circumstances would befall them?
"I can't lose you again." Merlin's breathing staggered.
Arthur gently pushed him away. He'd often mocked Merlin for these emotions, for tears spilled over men. He'd been wrong. Merlin felt more deeply than any man, and he had the right to. It made him the man Arthur admired. "I won't die again."
"That's a promise you don't have any guarantee of keeping."
Arthur sighed. "Maybe not. But this time I know I have the most powerful warlock at my side. I won't be letting you go to waste."
Courage. The feminine voice wavering in the wind startled them both. They looked towards the lake and both sets of eyes widened to behold a woman in shining white lilting several meters offshore.
"Freya," Merlin gasped.
"The Lady," Arthur echoed.
She didn't speak aloud, but she smiled and her voice sent calming waves through their minds. Your time has come. Your journey will be a long one, but take heart. Cling to those who trust your way. Through them you will accomplish your purpose. Do not give in to fear. As long as you hold to each other, you are never alone.
She turned, drifting away and vanishing into mist. They stared after her for a time, until Merlin met Arthur's eyes once more, his own still misted. "I don't know if I can do this again. It took so much to let it go the first time." To defeat the pain of destiny's burden.
Arthur's jaw firmed. "What is the other choice? To abandon Albion. I could never do that."
Merlin's mouth curled at the corners. "I was afraid of that."
Arthur clapped him on the back and turned him in the direction of the mansion.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Weeping like that."
"That's you, Merlin. You wouldn't be you without a few tears now and then."
Merlin smiled sheepishly at him, but Arthur also sensed a bit of pride in those eyes. He'd come a long way from claiming no man was worth tears. Still, he thought it best to distract his friend from any embarrassment and asked a question that had been at the back of his mind since he'd left Elaine's.
"Who's C.S. Lewis?"
"Lewis?"
"You know him?"
"He's dead now."
"Then, who was he?"
"Author."
"What is Narnia?"
"Narnia? How in the world do you..."
"I saw a quote in Elaine's library."
"Oh. Yes. I forgot it was there." Merlin smiled wistfully to himself.
"You've been there before?"
"I said I knew her father...Though it was a long time ago."
"Narnia?"
Merlin chuckled. "A fantastical world four children find and become kings and queens of."
Arthur halted and stared at Merlin. Well, that was a coincidence. This world was like his own fantasy he'd bumbled into. And he was supposed to lead it?
Merlin smiled as if he read his mind. "I made it into Lewis' work, too. Saved Albion single-handedly."
"Oh really. You and these other kings and queens?"
"It's a different book."
"Tell me about it." Arthur began hiking again.
"It's quite philosophical."
Arthur peered at him out of the side of his eye. "Never mind then."
Merlin guffawed.
"You won't have to do it single-handedly this time," Arthur said quietly as they walked. "It's our destiny, Merlin. Our burden. This time, I know. And I won't let us fail."
Merlin swallowed hard as he looked at him. "Promise?"
"Always."
Author's Note: Originally I planned on this fic being a one-shot, then had more ideas about how Merlin and Arthur would react to seeing each other again and the unresolved issues from the past they'd have to work through. So I turned it into an exploration of them getting reacquainted and decided this fic would be an interim between my story "Second Chance" and whatever story I might write about the purpose for Arthur's return. So this is the last chapter of "Where the Heart Is" but I'll be sure to update if/when I continue the story in another fic. I have so many ideas about Arthur meeting the Sorcerers' Conclave, Merlin's quest to gather the remnants of Albion, Marg and Elaine's deeper part in events, and of course, Aithusa and the new dragon. I plan to tackle the next fic in this series after I finish my AU, "A Boy's Destiny."
