The funny thing about children is that when you tell them to do something, they never do it, but when you tell them not to do something, suddenly, their whole existence depends on them doing the one thing you told them not to do.

Merlin supposed that's why Arthur grew older. He always told him not to grow up.


"Merlin!" seven year old Arthur whined as the warlock smoothed down his blonde hair for about the tenth time. "Cut it out!"

The warlock smirked. "Cut what out? Your hair? Well, it is getting pretty long..."

"Merlin," the little boy whined again, this time at the pun. "Can you just stop?"

With an over-exaggerated roll of his eyes, Merlin nodded, only to smooth down Arthur's unruly hair again when it sprang up. The seven year old pursed his lips and kept silent, glaring off into a far corner. He knew by now that there was no arguing with Merlin.

"I can't believe you're going to eight," a voice whispered in Arthur's ear after a while. He shifted around (he was in his favorite seat: Merlin's lap) and cranked his neck so he could look at his babysitter.

"It's not my birthday tomorrow," he said, then narrowed his eyes. "Is it?"

Merlin shook his head, smiling at the little boy. "No…it's just that you're growing up so fast."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm taking too long to grow up. I wanna be grown up now, just like you!"

Merlin sighed, though he was a bit amused. "You don't want to grow up too fast. It's a bad thing."

"How can growing up be bad?"

"Growing up's not bad, it's just bad to grow up too fast."

"You make no sense, Merlin," the little blondie said moved his shoulder back, nudging the warlock. "It's like that time when you started talking in that weird lang-ah-wage." (Arthur always pronounced the word "language" as "lang-ah-wage" on account that he had trouble saying it).

Merlin smiled at the memory. It was Arthur, in fact, that had slipped into old English first. Merlin had just been holding the conversation. After about five minutes, though, the little boy had switched back to the modern day jargon and had promptly asked Merlin why he was speaking oddly. The warlock had just smiled like nothing had happened.

"Can we watch a movie?"

"Is your homework done?"

"Um…."

Merlin narrowed his eyes, and put on a "bargaining" attitude. "Alright, but then we'll work on your spelling right after. Okay?"

Arthur nodded excitedly and hopped to the ground, Merlin slowly trailing after him. He ran straight up to the little cabinet under where the television stood and yanked open the door. Without hesitation, he reached for a DVD that he and Merlin had both seen many times.

"The Princess Bride?" Merlin asked, with a raised eyebrow. Though he loved the movie (it really had nothing to do with princesses all that much. It was more humorous than anything.), and he knew Arthur did too, the old Arthur (as in King Arthur) wouldn't be caught dead watching anything related to princesses.

Merlin was always discreetly testing Arthur, to see if anything would jog his memory of Camelot or his old self. So far, it had worked on a few things – little things – but the old Arthur still didn't seem to want to come out just yet. Merlin could wait though. He'd been waiting for a thousand years.

"Yep!" the little boy said excitedly. "This movie's the best!"

He handed it to Merlin, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the warlock popped it in the DVD player and turned the television on. With a flash of gold in Merlin's eyes (Arthur knew about his magic, remember), the lights went out and they both bounded over to the couch, Arthur already cuddling up to his warlock.

The movie started out, and Merlin practically feel Arthur smiling. No could resist The Princess Bride.

Later into the movie, when the characters Inigo and Westley were sword dueling, Merlin felt the warmth leave his side. Arthur had gotten up, and had walked over to the corner of the room to pick up something long and colorful – an umbrella, Merlin noticed. He walked back towards Merlin, a smile on his face, and started copying the character's moves on the screen. Merlin shook his head and chuckled; Arthur loved doing this, pretending to be a swordfighter. The warlock guessed it had something to do with his past life, but for now it was just cute, seeing a little boy swing an umbrella around.

Arthur was a clumsy swordsman (or "umbrella-man," looking at his choice of weapon) when he copied Inigo. He was trying to use one hand and stand sideways. His footwork was alright though, almost too good for someone who had never actually seen a real sword (well, at least in this life). He hopped at the right moments and moved correctly when he was supposed to.

Merlin's mouth was quirked upward the whole time whilst watching Arthur fight his imaginary foe. Inigo and Westly on screen had stopped fighting already, but the little boy still was thrusting the umbrella every which way in the air.

With some newfound vigor, Arthur began to move faster, in more precise motions. He gripped umbrella with two hands now, and had puffed out his cheeks. His footwork was better than earlier, and he obviously was beating his invisible enemy. Merlin was suddenly hit with the feeling of nostalgia.

He was fighting just like the old Arthur had, right down to way he bent his elbows or how he favored one side. It was absolute perfection, almost like watching the greatest swordsman in Albion fight again.

It took a full minute before it clicked for Merlin.

Arthur was sword fighting perfectly. Just like the old Arthur.

He was remembering. Arthur was remembering how to swordfight. By extension, he was remembering who he used to be.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled in joy. The little boy looked up, and the concentrated look on his face melted off, being replaced by one of confusion. He dropped the umbrella.

Merlin scooped the blonde up in his arms (something the warlock should've stopped doing; Arthur was getting a bit big to pick up) and spun him around once, squeezing him tight.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, seriously worried. "Are you okay?"

The warlock placed him down with the biggest smile on his face. "Okay? I'm more than okay!"

Arthur cocked his head to the side, his eyes widening slightly. "I don't think you are. And why are you crying?"

Merlin touched his face and found, yes, he had been crying. Another smile broke out across his face.

"It's okay, I'm happy! So incredibly happy!"

"Why?"

Merlin was too ecstatic to answer. Arthur was remembering.


A/N: Hey, guys, I'm really sorry about not updating sooner but school is an absolute BITCH and, well...okay, I through this with every story...I got writer's block, then I couldn't write anything and when that happens I just loath everything I've ever written, sooo I just hated this story, thought everyone else hated this story, and actually thought about deleting it. *shrugs* Looks like I didn't! :D (Yes, I wrote some new storied, but that was to get me out of my funk or to avoid homework.)

Anyways, thanks again for reviewing/fav-ing/following! Magic cream puffs to all of you~! :D

(BTW, sorry for any mistakes in this chapter. It's late and my laptop is dying so time is of the essence!)