The Doctor frantically tried to smooth down the rat's nest on his head, attempting to contain his excitement. He had read about Merlin over and over again for hundreds of years, and still never got tired of the endless tales his life spawned. He supposed that a lot of them weren't true, but he still felt in awe of the man walking beside him.

Granted, he didn't look like the gallant, kind, and wise sorcerer the Doctor imagined him to be. He seemed to be in his early 30's, with jet black hair and a bit of stubble lining the lower region of his face. He wore a navy-blue t-shirt with a leather jacket over the top of it, with black jeans. There were extra lines in his face, from years upon years of expression, and there was a small inkling of extra maturity in the way he carried himself. But what really gave him away were his eyes. Thousands upon thousands of years hid behind those sapphire eyes, and with those years came tribulation. This man was a hurricane imprisoned in a raindrop, chaotic yet trapped, utterly given in to suffering he never saw coming, with no way out.

Merlin was always one of the Doctor's favorite figureheads because he was the only one that could ever hope to begin to understand the burdens the Doctor carried himself. But what of the magical talents he possessed in the legends? As far as the Doctor knew, magic was complete poppycock. He was dying to have a conversation with him, but Merlin walked in complete silence, and the Doctor felt it impolite to intrude.

The Doctor's musings were interrupted when Merlin turned off the main road and started to walk toward the forest.

"Er, where are we going?"

"My house."

"You live in the woods?"

"Yes." There was no elaboration, so the Doctor decided to take it as it came. They entered the cool shade of the woods, traversing a well worn path in semi-companionable silence. A river gurgled alongside the path, adding soothing background noise. Mockingbirds chirped in the trees, the sun filtered through the leaves, and the colors all around were rich, yet the Doctor could feel a tension coming off of Merlin. He couldn't blame him. He was born in the medieval ages after all, and a flying telephone box didn't agree with anyone at first.

After trudging along for about 10 minutes, coming across a few forks in the road, daisies began to sprout in abundance, along with bluebells. The trail curved right up head, and as they rounded it, the Doctor felt as if he had walked straight into a fairytale.

A small cobblestone path led to a modest cottage, a water wheel coming off the side, turning in time with the music of the river. The cottage itself looked to have been modeled after a child playing with blocks, with a room jutting out from the main body of the structure, a small top floor resting on top of it, and an even smaller attic drawing the roof into a point.

But the true beauty did not reside with the cottage alone. Lilac trees encircled it like guardians, and their purple petals laid over the emerald green grass. Rose bushes of all kinds grew up the side, vibrant reds, pinks, yellows, and even TARDIS blues shone. Flanking the house were some of the most vibrantly colored flowers the Doctor had ever seen, on earth. Daffodils and carnations burst forth, almost glowing, their petals refusing to fade, even as winter approached. Chrysanthemums grew on the roots of the lilac trees, and petunias vied for attention among violets and tulips. Zinnia dotted the river's banks, leading to a white gazebo in the distance where the river emptied into a lake.

It was the Doctor's turn to gape as he stared at the fabulous array. He turned to Merlin, who was staring at him, as if to gauge his reaction.

Instead of expressing his wonder, the Doctor instead said, "It looks like spring threw up on your house." Merlin glowered at him. "So if you're Merlin, where's King Arthur?"

All the life suddenly drained out of Merlin's eyes as he got in the Doctor's face. "Shut. Up." The Doctor backed away, startled. Merlin stepped away also, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, I'd rather not talk about him. And yes, I like flowers. Let's just clear that out of the way."

He stalked up the path and unlocked the door, the Doctor close behind. The inside of the cottage was warm and bright. The fragrance of the flowers outside floated in through the window, and the flowing of the river could be heard. Something cooked in a crockpot in the kitchen, and it's odor mixed with everything else, causing the Doctor to breathe in deeply. Merlin first checked on whatever was cooking, then opened a cabinet by the fireplace. He drew out a bottle of wine, blowing off the dust it had collected. He contemplated the label for a bit before bringing it to the table along with two glasses. He sat, and looked at the Doctor expectantly.

"Are you going to sit down, or is your mother going to be upset when she finds you drinking wine?"

"Wine?"

"Yes, wine."

"I've never had that before."

"Well, this is a big step in your maturity."

"I'm 1200 years old, you lily livered marmoset."

"Fine words! I wonder where you stole them. Well, all right you cabbage head, I turned 2,542 two weeks ago." The Doctor's eyes widened as a smirk spread across Merlin's face. This man was alive over one thousand years before he was even a twinkle in his father's eye.

"We-well, happy late birthday." Merlin's smirk widened as he gestured to the seat in front of him. The Doctor sat with renewed respect. Merlin poured the wine, and handed a glass to the Doctor, and he took it gingerly, eyeing the burgundy liquid. He knew nothing about wine, possibly because his companions would never let him have it. Or alcohol. Or anything with too much sugar. Probably with good reason. He didn't know if etiquette was included in drinking wine, but he decided to suppose there was, just in case.

He stuck his pinkie out and puckered his lips, raising the glass. He was so concentrated on making sure he did not look like a fool in front of Merlin, that it startled him when he spoke.

"What are you doing?" The Doctor looked up to see Merlin casually drinking wine as he would water. Embarassed, the Doctor put down his pinkie. "So, who-what are you?"

"I told you--"

"No, like, where did you come from, what's a TARDIS, and why does your box fly?" Before speaking, the Doctor correctly took a sip of his wine. Flavor exploded across his tongue, and a delightful buzz began in his stomach.

"Well, the TARDIS is my box."

"Why is is called a TARDIS?"

"It stands for 'Time and Relative Dimension in Space.' It's bigger on the inside, and it can travel through time and space. Yes, it's a time machine. Where did I get it? My home planet, Gallifrey. I'm an alien? Yes I am. I've got two hearts, and can regenerate into a new body when it's time for me to die, which is why I'm 1200 years old." Merlin looked incredulous at the sudden intake of information. "People always ask the same questions. Well, anyway, what about you? Your story must be infinitely more interesting than mine."

"Well, I don't think I could beat an alien with a time machine, but I was born in the Medieval ages, I'm too lazy to find out exactly when. I was born in poverty, in a small village called Ealdor, just on the borders of Camelot, right inside Lot's kingdom. Camelot had outlawed magic long ago, after 'purging' it from the earth. Magic was practiced voluntarily, no one was born with the skill. Until me. I didn't need to study magic or learn incantations to use it. As I got older, my magic got more powerful, and more noticeable. If Uther found out about a sorcerer in Lot's kingdom, he would forsake his boundaries and hunt me down. My mother sent me to Camelot to enlist help from a man named Gaius, the court physician, who was educated in vast realms of magic, and was one of the few who was kept alive after the purge. He taught me how to harness my magic, and use it for good. But then came the dragon…" Merlin continued to tell the story of his youth, it was vastly different from what the Doctor had read. He had no idea the Morgana was good once, that Merlin was Arthur's servant, and that Arthur was destined for so much.

The names were familiar, as were the beasts he mentioned, but the events that involved them were not. The Doctor was completely captivated. The story was a lighthearted one in the beginning, making the Doctor laugh until tears came, but as the story went on, things got darker.

"I escaped from the Crystal Cave with my magic back, and approached the Battle of Camlann. In all my years, I have never seen anything more horrifying. So much death, it seemed to infect the air itself. Brother killing brother, friend murdering friend, lightning struck, fire burned, and the smell of blood was all there was," Merlin closed his eyes, as if reliving it. "Morgana snatched away life as if it belonged to her, as if she had a right. Until I took care of it. I called off her dragon and caused her to flee. I couldn't see Arthur anywhere, so I went looking for him in the canyon. I climbed over bodies until I found him standing over the inanimate form of Mordred, with his hand clamped on his side, his legs shaking. He collapsed then, and I carried him out of danger, into the safety of the woods, where I inspected his wound. It seemed to be a nonfatal sword wound, that would heal given time, but I couldn't be sure."

He told of how Arthur discovered his magic, then suddenly stopped.

"What happened? Was Arthur okay? Was magic restored?"

"Magic was restored through Gwen, but that's all I'm willing to share."

"But what about Arthur?" Merlin stayed silent, his eyes burning. The sudden realization hit the Doctor like a truck, why Merlin was so pained and aggressive when Arthur was mentioned. "Oh, I see." Merlin lowered his gaze. They sat in silence for a time as the Doctor thought of what to say. He had lost more than most people could comprehend, so he hid it to avoid the classic pity treatment. After all, people's apologies don't bring back what he lost. But at the prospect of meeting someone who would understand, he let himself feel it for just a moment. Every life he had seen end, every life he had ended, every universe he had seen burn out, every civilization he had seen crumble to dust. He took a shaky breath. "Losing people is never easy, is it?" was all he could think to say. Merlin shook his head.

"That's why I stay unconnected. So I don't have to do that again."

"It must get lonely, though."

"Sometimes."

"For me, travelling wherever the universe needs me, I find having a companion quite useful."

"Isn't it dangerous for them?"

"Since when is getting hunted by aliens safe?" That earned a chuckle from Merlin. "But they know exactly what they're getting into, and they're eager. It doesn't make losing them any easier, but my life in general gained much more of a flair."

"Flair?"

"If you'd like." Merlin looked stared at his empty glass, contemplating his words.

"Have you ever considered finding a companion that you wouldn't lose?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've stayed in this same cottage for nigh on 900 years, only leaving for work, and let me say, pruning begonias gets boring. I've seen everything on this world that I want to see. I've seen empires rise and fall, I've seen infinite births and deaths, lives playing out, I've seen and fought in any war you care to name, and I've ensured victory for my side. Plus, you have completely avoided talking about yourself, I still don't know anything about you. All in all, I'd like to get out of here." Merlin gazed at the Doctor pleadingly, as the Doctor processed Merlin's request.

Merlin? His hero? Travelling with him? The Doctor could not have wished for anything more. He wasn't used to travelling with someone who would be less impressed by some of his usual dramatics, but it would be good to have someone to relate to, and earning Merlin's respect and favor presented a delightful challenge.

"My TARDIS should be fixed by morning." Merlin opened his mouth as if to ask how that were possible, then closed it again, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't understand anyway.

"And? Will you allow me to travel with you?" The Doctor's heart picked up as he imagined it.

"Yes