Chapter Four
(The companion piece -of sorts- to this chapter is "Hiding in Plain Sight". Or, if you're Arthur, it's the other way 'round.)
Merlin tossed his last paycheck on the table along with his jacket.
"Today's the day," he called. Penn came zipping down the hallway on a collision course with his beloved warlock.
"Woah! Somebody's excited!" Merlin laughed as Penn dove to circle his knees a few times before swooping up to land on his shoulder. The tiny dragon nuzzled Merlin's fingers affectionately as he stroked him. "I'm excited too. I'm looking forward to seeing the lake again. It's been a while. What do you say? Time to pack?" Apparently those were the magic words. Penn trilled, took off and soon returned to drop a dvd case into his hands. The Sword in the Stone. Merlin groaned.
"Really? Why do you love this one so much? It's completely ridiculous."
Stupid Disney. Merlin had thrown little Oliver's "because-your-name-is-Merlin!" going-away present in the player just for laughs and Penn had inexplicably fallen in love with it. Ugh. The warlock gave in. His eyes flashed, the system accepted the disc and the television clicked on.
"Time to pack, time to pack," Merlin muttered, clicking through the menu until he found the right spot. Penn began zooming madly, excited about the scene on the screen.
Merlin snorted in amusement. "Alright, let's have some fun." He raised his hands. The music started.
"Higitus figitus zumbakazing!"
Merlin raised a commanding and expectant eyebrow.
I want your attention, ev'rything!"
His eyes flooded with gold. The room came to life as objects perked to attention. He grinned at Penn who was now bobbing happily in front of him.
"I draw the line at dancing around like an old loon."
He flicked his fingers for effect as the music continued, "..Books go first you know!
Hockey pockety wockety wack,
Abracadabra dabra nack,
Shrink in size very small,
we've got to save enough room for all."
The books from the shelves bobbed over to the case lying open on the floor, shrinking and fitting themselves in nicely.
"Alicafez balacazez,
malacamez meripides.."
Sheets and towels from the linen closet floated into the room and wrapped themselves neatly around the dishes coming in from the kitchen. As "odds and ends and bric a brac" flew past, Penn darted skillfully between them, reveling in the controlled chaos. Merlin laughed at Penn's antics.
"Higitus figitus migitus mum,
Prestidigitorium!"
The warlock, the dragon and a deceptively small suitcase appeared in the lonely lane lined by towering oaks. Penn leapt from Merlin's shoulder and soared toward the small stone cottage ahead while Merlin studied the surrounding tree growth, marking the passage of time. His eyes glowed as he renewed the wards and redirection spells, guaranteeing no unexpected visitors.
The roof was sagging and one of the upstairs windows looked as though a nearby tree branch had knocked it and broken it, perhaps during a storm. Merlin opened the door only to have it pop off it's hardware and hang by a hinge. The cottage was dusty, musty and dark. He soon discovered that he should have worried equally as much about unwanted animal visitors as human ones as he disturbed families of voles, squirrels, hares and bats while exploring his old home.
"Oh come on! I wasn't gone THAT long! Sheesh!"
Penn swooped down to perch on the edge of a chair beside a dark corner. He leaned over, staring into the shadows, going utterly still except for his tail that switched back and forth like a cat's. "Seriously? Hunting?" Merlin said. He shook his head. "You're a Pendragon alright. You'll excuse me if I don't watch."
The former manservant to a king swept and scrubbed, relishing the feeling of putting his muscles to work. He could have cleaned instantly with his magic but then what would he do with his abundance of unclaimed hours? No. He'd long ago discovered what a blessing daily toil was. It gave a semblance of purpose to time.
After a few hours of good effort and only a little bit of cheating, he stood to stretch his back and survey his progress. Everything sparkled, as much as it still could for its age anyway. The kitchen and bathroom facilities were functional but, he realized, he'd become spoiled in the last few years, accustomed to the latest improvements in technology and furnishings. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Time to modernize, I think."
After another hour or so of magically updating his home, the warlock called his ferocious little hunter-explorer who immediately came swooping down from questing in the attic. Merlin gestured toward the door. "What do you think? Now you can go in and out as you like. I put wards on it so only you can get through, see? I put your one at the top but doggie doors usually go at the bottom so.." He was interrupted by irate shrieking and flames.
"What! Why're you.. Ohhh, sorry! Yes, this is not a doggie door! This- this is a— mystical dragon portal!"
Penn huffed once and flipped the tip of his tail as if to say "Well, I should think so!" and immediately darted through his new mystical portal to recover from Merlin's grave offense and cool his temper in the great outdoors.
Merlin sighed and shook his head. Whew! Wounded his pride. He's as sensitive as the prat.
Merlin's stomach twisted and gave a fierce growl. He'd worked well past lunchtime and was decidedly hungry. Strange that Penn hadn't been badgering him for food. Wrinkling his nose, he put that down to a successful hunt. He grabbed his backpack and headed outside.
"Penn?" he called to the little dragon swaying on a bobbing tree branch. "Oi! Don't chase all the birds away! Try making friends not enemies! I'm heading to town for supplies. Be good while I'm gone!"
Merlin hadn't gone far when he felt a slight tugging between his shoulder blades and picked up on some rustling from his backpack. He swung around but the dragon had already disappeared into the bag's depths.
"Penn, come on. I know you're there." He gave the bag a little shake. "You should stay home. Come on out now!" Another shake was answered by a low growl. "OK fine, but don't let anyone see you." He continued on his way, warmed by Penn's presence.
In the market, Merlin tried to be unobtrusive about asking his pet which items he favored.
"This one?" Merlin murmured discreetly over his shoulder to his backpack as he lifted a box of cereal and was answered with a quick chirrup. He rounded the corner of the next aisle and spotted a bowed, elderly woman straining to reach an item close to the top shelf.
"Here, let me get that for you." He easily retrieved the tin and handed it to her as she turned.
The woman's face lit up in surprise and joy.
"Merlin?"
He froze.
"Merlin Emerson?"
"I'm sorry, do I.."
The elderly lady looked flustered but didn't stop drinking in the sight of him.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! You look just like my friend who used to live down by the lake, but he would be my age now. So silly of me."
"You must mean my grandfather," Merlin replied kindly.
"Your grandfather! Yes, oh my. You really do look like him. Such a handsome young rascal, he was. You were named for him, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"Is he…?" she began hopefully.
"I'm sorry, he's passed. I've inherited the cottage."
"Oh, I am sorry to hear of your loss. My condolences, dear."
Merlin squirmed awkwardly.
"Thank you. I-I'd better be getting on. It's a fair walk back. It was nice to meet you.."
"Emeline, Emeline Adams."
Merlin's smile warmed as he finally recognized his old friend beneath the iron-gray curls and stooped and rounded figure. The long years hadn't been very kind to her but the twinkle in her eye was still there.
"I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Adams. I'm sure I remember granddad mentioning your name. Perhaps we'll meet again."
"I do hope so." She smiled and tottered away.
It was a pleasant surprise to see Eme again. Friendship with Eme and the gang had made almost a decade of his life back at the cottage pretty happy. If only I hadn't told her my "grandfather" had passed. I could have aged myself and gone for a few visits. His smile faded. But then, I would've had to create years of fictional family life so we could "catch up". He hung his head. Lying to friends was more painful than it was worth.
It always had been.
His shoulders slumped and he headed to the register to make his purchases, fighting a sudden despondency. Maybe I'll go visit her anyway, he thought defiantly.
—-
After dinner, in an apparent effort to liven Merlin back up, Penn playfully snatched items from Merlin's hands and swooped just out of reach, rearranged the shelves and generally made a pest of himself. Merlin soon gave up reprimanding him and summoned the Sword and the Stone dvd and set it playing to keep Penn out of his hair while he stowed things away. Using the screen as a babysitter, Merlin? You're a terrible parent, he smirked to himself.
He continued unpacking until a passage caught his ear.
"I am a wizard! ...I can see into the future! Centuries into the future! Why, I've even been there..."
Merlin turned to the screen, suddenly paying attention to the nonsense scrolling across it.
"Oh, you mean you can see everything before it happens?" Wart asked eagerly.
"Yes! Everything!"
"Ah ah ah! Everything, Merlin?" prompted the annoying owl.
"Uh, well, no. Not everything. I admit I didn't know whom to expect for tea, but as you can see, I figured the exact place!"
Penn cocked his head in confusion as the screen froze. Merlin spoke, his voice dry and empty.
"Here I am again, Arthur. Centuries in the future. At the lake. I guess it's where I'm supposed to be waiting. Interesting, isn't it, that even though I'm still waiting I no longer expect you to show up." He heaved a massive sigh. "I guess that means I'm not waiting anymore. I'm just…being. I'm so tired of being." He dropped the dish towels back into the box and wandered down the hall to the bedroom. The tiny dragon followed, chirping anxiously.
"Just leave it, Penn. It doesn't matter. No one is coming for tea.. no one is coming at all. It'll still be there tomorrow." He laid down on the bed and stared out the window. "And so will I."
Penn landed on the pillow, cooing and nudging Merlin but receiving no response. After poking at the listless warlock a moment longer, he leaped into the air and sailed down the hall into the living room where he ferociously attacked the buttons on the DVD player until it spit out the disc. Catching it in his claws he carried it to the trash bin, dropped it in, then roasted it in a stream of intense heat until it was nothing but a melted plastic mess. He flew back to the bedroom and nestled next to his warlock's chest, stoking the fires of friendship and magic, warming his friend's heart until they both fell asleep.
—years later—
Penn flitted from room to room in growing distress. Merlin had repaired the television cord after Penn had chewed through it again in the desperate attempt to keep the world and its troubles away from his beloved friend. He'd hidden the phone and damaged the wireless router in previous attempts, braving Merlin's anger, but it hadn't been enough. Merlin had been growing ever more despondent lately. His visits to the old lady, helping fix her house, tend her flower garden and do her shopping had been good for him, but now, ever since the old woman's memorial service, he'd been sleeping more and more or silently staring out the window at the lake just visible through the drizzle. He wasn't eating much or taking care of himself and he wasn't seeking companionship beyond what Penn could give him. It wasn't good for Merlin to be alone. Where was he? The strawberry patch maybe?
Merlin actually had started out in the strawberry patch this time but had long since left it behind while Penn had napped in a spot of morning sunshine on the kitchen window sill. He'd gone on, left the garden confines and wandered the ancient woodland, caressing the ferns and flowers and taking note of the unusual fungi that still found a home in the undisturbed wood.
Months ago, a very determined woman from the Woodland Trust had contacted him, asking to be allowed admittance to his land to examine the flora and fauna. With Penn firmly locked in the bedroom at the cottage, Merlin had escorted the woman through the woods surrounding the lake. She'd been ecstatic at the pristine nature, exclaiming in delight over the wild garlic, bluebells, oak and lime trees, various lichens, slugs and beetles, passionately informing him that such a rich combination of indicator species, once defiled, could never be recovered.
"Indicator species? Indicators of what?" Merlin asked curiously.
"Why, that this wood is exactly as it was in medieval times, or even earlier!" she gushed, "This forest is a remarkable treasure. I dare say it is one of the last remaining ties to the ancient world. I've never seen such a magical place!" Merlin hmmed politely, watching her carefully. Little did she realize the truth of her words. "When it's lost, there'll be no going back. It should be protected at all costs." Merlin couldn't have agreed more. She stopped and addressed him with a weighty look. "You are the caretaker of this precious link to the world of centuries ago. Tell me, Mr. Emerson, are you fully committed to its preservation?"
"Always," he replied with equal gravity.
After their day-long excursion in the woods, he'd escorted her back to the road, bid her farewell and strengthened all the protective enchantments shielding the sacred land that was all that was left to him.
Merlin breathed in deeply. He was a tie to the ancient world stronger even than the forest. He ran his hands over the weathered bark of a stately oak. Oh, to be a tree! If he had to live, had to be a connecting piece, couldn't he just be with no more thinking and no more feeling? If he was the anchor for Arthur's return and all that was required was his life, then could he just exist but not be a conscious part of it? Of all the many stories about him that had popped up over the ages, he most liked the one where he was turned into a tree. That would be nice. He wondered if it were possible.
Lost in thought, the time-worn soul wandered, finally emerging at the shoreline on the far side of the lake. The tired questions he'd never found answers to, once again trudged their well-trodden path through his mind.
Was Arthur ever to return? Really? Why was he immortal? If Arthur wasn't really coming back, then why was Merlin cursed? What had he ever done to earn such a punishment? It seemed pointless. It made no sense.. but it had to! ..so ...perhaps that was the proof that Arthur would return? Or were the gods truly that cruel?
No, he had to believe it was more than that. Arthur would come. It was promised! He would come. He would! Merlin had felt himself unraveling faster and faster day by day. He needed Arthur now! Didn't they understand that his mind couldn't take much more even if his perpetually youthful body could? Sanity was slipping through his grasp and letting it go scared him as much as it tempted him.
Merlin hurled the rock into the sacred lake.
"Arthur!" He screamed, his throat tearing in rage and frustration, "Where are you!"
He dropped to the ground. There were no tears left. There was nothing left. Only too much life, and too much life was death. There was no escaping eternity.
The skies opened up and provided the tears.
A distressed trilling sounded through the trees behind him. Penn landed on his shoulder and began nosing his cheek gently.
Heedless of the heavy rain, Merlin stared empty-eyed and unseeing until long after night had fallen.
.-.-.
"Send me back now!" The king commanded, never taking his eyes from the fallen figure of his friend until he was completely obscured by the rain and darkness of night. "He needs me!"
"I cannot. You have awakened, therefore the time must be soon but it is not yet," the Lady responded.
"Look at him! How can you leave him alone like that?" he raged.
"I would give anything to spare him this but it is not in my power. There is yet strength in him and he is not alone. He was given a companion to see him through the end of his vigil."
"A companion? Where is this so-called companion then?"
"He is there."
Whoever he is, he's doing a rubbish job of it, Arthur thought uncharitably. Hold fast, Merlin. I'm coming.
..*oOo*..