A/N: Hello everyone. Legend says that, if you leave a review, Merlin will visit you in your dreams!
But honestly, let me know how you liked this, how you hated it, or anything else.
Involved
Pretty soon, I have to start intervening. And before that happens, I need to look like myself.
He paced the confines of the treehouse. Yes, I have to look exactly like young-Merlin. Do I have a spell for that?
He stood still, thinking, the wood creaking slightly beneath his feet. Then—
Of course. I can just use the spell I used to turn back into Merlin from the old man.
It was complicated, but eventually Merlin altered the spell so that he would appear as if he was in his early twenties.
"Edniwe min geoguð gu ficheadan!" he said, his palm pointing at himself.
He felt a shock, and a shiver ran through him. He looked in the mirror and saw a man who looked exactly as his younger self.
Good, he thought. Let's go to the castle and see where my other self is.
• • •
But it wasn't himself that he found first. It was Arthur.
The prince strode pompously through the lower town, acting as if he was a different species than those around him.
What a dollophead, Merlin said with a shake of the head and half-smile.
Arthur suddenly slowed near an old, homeless woman. He checked all around him to see if anyone was looking. Merlin ducked quickly behind a barrel, out of sight.
Once he was sure that no one was looking, Arthur slipped a generous sum of coins into the woman's cup. "I hope that you have better luck," the prince said to her quietly, and went on his way.
Merlin peeked out from behind the barrel. WHAT?
He followed behind Arthur, who was heading toward the woods. Perhaps he was not so much of a prat as I thought….
Suddenly his knee smashed loudly on a tent post, causing a steel pan to crash to the ground. Great.
Arthur spun around. "Mer-lin! What the hell are you doing?"
Merlin coughed. "Er, I'm going to pick herbs. Urgent. For Gaius."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "No, Mer-lin. I told you specifically to clean my armor. Now go get it done, before I teach you the meaning of pain." He held up a threatening finger.
"Yes," said Merlin, "of course sire. Right away sire." He spun on his heel and walked back to the castle, grinning as he heard Arthur's huff of frustration behind him.
• • •
He slipped into the castle and sneaked right to Arthur's chambers. He pressed his ear to the door.
I'm in there. He peeked in. The pile of armor was tremendous. Good. I'll be there for a while.
He walked to his old chambers, where he found Gaius cleaning up some spilled potion. The sight of the fatherly physician made Merlin's heart swell. "Hello Gaius," he said.
"Merlin! Good, you're here. I need to you to take this sleeping draft to the Lady Morgana." He stuffed a bottle into Merlin's hands. "Off you go!"
Merlin's heart leapt into his throat. Morgana? I...I'm not ready….
But his feet took him up a set of stairs to a familiar door. He stood in front of it, his heart beating rapidly.
With a deep breath, he knocked.
A few tense seconds later, she opened it.
And, as his eyes stared into hers—suddenly, forcefully, beautifully—Merlin was filled with an emotion so strong he could not name it. It simply filled him, leaving no room for anything else.
"Merlin."
"Er...yes, hello," he stuttered out.
She kept looking at him, her slightly intense gaze never leaving him.
After a few seconds she raised an ebony eyebrow—
"Yes, yes, sorry—er, here—" he stuck out the hand with the bottle in it.
"Oh, thank you," she said, accepting it and giving him a small smile.
He made way to leave but as he turned, she asked, "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine, thank you, my lady."
She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. "I've told you before, call me Morgana, Merlin."
Merlin smiled—a true smile; his eyes beaming. He laughed. "Ah, sorry, Morgana."
She smirked. "You'd better be sorry, Mer-lin," she said, teasing him with Arthur's tone which so annoyed him.
Merlin smiled again, completely filled with emotion. I should go now.
He turned to go. "Well, if you ever need anything...let me know!" he said with a small nod. She didn't say anything; her lips arched slowly into a honest smile. He went down the stairs, tripping slightly.
He heard the door snap behind him. The warlock walked over to the huge window overlooking the countryside. It was almost nighttime. A grey mist blanketed the valley.
He stood, alone, looking out at the darkening landscape. And whatever emotion it was that filled him, whatever feeling that coursed through him—he wanted more of it.
:)