The Future King - Chapter one
Title: The Future King
Read on AO3
Author: Angel_kink
Rating: PG (will go up later)
Words: ~2400 this chapter
Warning: Brief mention of actual terrorist events in this chapter, but it’s not a central focus of the story
Summary: The world is in turmoil and the Future King returns.
A/N: I’ve never written Merthur before, so I’m still learning their voices, but how could I not respond to that finale, man? HOW? I want this to be ongoing, so it’ll definitely be a WIP for a while. Also, my normal beta hasn’t caught up with Merlin, so this is unbeta’d. Volunteers welcome!
Chapter One
Merlin had traveled the world alone for 1,500 years. He’d watched magic rise and fall and disappear into myths and legends. He stood by as new technology developed at an exponential rate, surpassing his wildest imagination. He saw nations build up and crumble and rebuild themselves again and again. He saw wars, disease, famine, and genocide. Merlin had visited every continent and almost all of the established countries that formed borders since he’d watched Arthur drift into the mist.
Every once in awhile he’d find himself back at the shores waiting for Arthur’s return. There were many times when Merlin felt the world needed him, but the island remained silent. War after war after war and nothing happened. Merlin was certain the Second World War was it. He’d felt it in his bones. When he watched the war spread across the globe he headed back to Avalon and settled into the town as he did several times per century. When the war reached his doorstep he still continued to keep watch over the water all night waiting. But Arthur never came.
He’d stayed in the small village near Avalon for three decades that time. He knew the locals were growing suspicious that such a frail old man showed up looking like he was on death’s door, but never seemed to die, just as they did every time he showed up in town. He had to leave. The war had seemed to settle down anyway and there were new places to explore and things to learn. Even though television was bringing the news from all across the globe directly to his home, he still liked to get out and make new contacts in the ever changing world.
Thirty years, later the largest city in North America was attacked, horrific footage broadcast throughout the world, and new wars broke out across the globe. The world was never truly at peace, but with such violent imagery so easily spread to the public, tensions rose and conflicts reached further than they’d ever reached before. For a decade he watched media evolve and fear and paranoia spread across the globe. He watched the Internet come into creation. He watched events from one side of the globe be broadcasts instantaneously to the other and he watched as people hundreds of countries comment on it with each other in real time. The fear was global. Things seemed to have met a crescendo and something needed to be done.
Merlin wondered if forty years was enough time to return to the region. Merlin played this game at least twice a century and he’d have a few close calls, but hadn’t yet been recognized by a local. There were those who knew his secret, but none of the villagers had a clue that the greatest sorcerer who ever lived was an on again off again resident. He wanted to keep it that way. If he returned too soon he risked being remembered by someone he may have known from his previous residency. But if he didn’t go, Arthur could emerge alone and confused and Merlin couldn’t stand to think of it.
The town hadn’t changed much from the last time he’d seen it. Some shop windows had signs of modern technology, electronic displays and lights, but things had remained much the same for at least the last two centuries. He found a small rental unit at the edge of town that consisted of one large room and a small bathroom with fixtures that hadn’t changed since the last time Merlin was in town. He didn’t need much, anyway.
Through all the centuries standing watch for him, Merlin never once lost hope that the Once and Future King would return. This night, three months after Merlin had settled back into the village, was no different. He sat out on the ledge of the lake watched out over the water after the sun had set and the villagers had gone to sleep. The fog danced off the water as it did almost every night, but the water remained still and undisturbed. His vigil would usually last until sun up, when he’d return to his cottage and take on the reclusive personality that had kept him safe over the centuries.
But on this night, things were different. It started with a clearing in the fog followed by small ripples coming from across the lake. Sometimes local wildlife would disturb the placid waters and on occasion the wind would clear the fog, but every sign of disturbance put Merlin on guard. When Merlin felt the wave of magic ripple out from the island like a shockwave, however, Merlin was instantly on his feet and alert.
Several long minutes passed and Merlin felt the magic pulsing from across the water. Since magic had nearly died out several centuries ago, Merlin hadn’t felt that much power sustained over such a large period of time. It rekindled the magic inside of him and brought to life pieces of himself he’d long since forgotten. He remembered Camelot then. He felt Camelot inside him, around him, pulsing through his veins. It was like he never left. He could almost hear the neighing of the horses on High Street and the murmur of the shopkeepers and pedestrians that Merlin encountered as he ran his errands. He remembered Arthur. The sound of Arthur’s voice...
When a small shadowy figure began to emerge from the shadows of the island, Merlin stepped carefully into the water, resisting the urge to start swimming out towards it. He strained himself to see across the water, but the pulse of magic had seemed to create a barrier around the island that prevented him from seeing further than his own weak eyes could manage. It has to be Aurthur, he thought.
As the figure came closer, Merlin could make out the blonde head of hair and the ruby red cloak and before Merlin knew what he was doing he was wading out into the water to greet his King. Arthur was rowing his funeral boat with a small piece of wood that he’d most likely found on the shores of Avalon, making his way slowly, but steadily across the lake. When Merlin was knee deep in the water they met and Arthur hopped out of the boat and stared at Merlin wide eyed.
“Merlin?”
“Sire?”
“Why the disguise this time,” Arthur said, pushing the boat aside and wading towards Merlin. “I know who you are.”
“Not a disguise this time, my friend. I fear some time has passed since we’ve last met.”
The next thing Merlin knew he was being pulled into a hug. His frail body ached at the roughness of Arthur’s grip, but he was too overjoyed at the return of his King to care. His body had survived for so many centuries already, they could withstand this. Merlin let himself get lost in the moment, enjoying the fact that Arthur was here. He was alive and warm and solid. He wasn’t the product of his imagination. But Merlin also knew that he had a job to do, too, and that was the priority.
“Arthur, I need to get you inside before someone sees.” Merlin reluctantly pulled out of the hug and began guiding Arthur to the shore.
“How much time has passed?”
“A lot,” Merlin snapped as he suddenly realized that marching into a lake with his shoes on with a bad back was a bad idea. His feet got stuck in the mud as he tried to climb out of the water and he nearly fell. Had it not been for Arthur at his side he would have fallen face first into the grass.
“How long, exactly, Merlin.” It wasn’t a question, but a command. Arthur helped Merlin out of the lake and followed him away from the shore.
“Fifteen centuries, give or take a decade.”
“Fifteen centuries? Merlin!”
“Home, now,” Merlin said as he started marching in the direction of the town. Aurthur’s armour clanked together loudly as he trailed behind him. “Dammit. We’ll be lucky if we don’t wake up the whole village when we arrive.”
Merlin heard the armor suddenly stop moving and he turned around to look at Arthur, who was staring bewildered at a glowing street lamp on the side of the road. Merlin sighed. He’d known the transition would be difficult, but he just wanted to get Arthur back to his cottage as soon as possible before he had to explain everything.
“Arthur! We need to go. If the locals see you they’ll start asking questions and we really can’t have that right now.”
“The locals will have questions? Merlin, I have question.”
“Yes, of course. I figured you would, but I’m actually going to answer your questions. Once we get inside.”
Arthur curled his lip, obviously wanting to argue with the tone Merlin was using, but he just shook his head and followed.
-
Twenty minutes later they arrived in the village and hastily made their way to Merlin’s cottage on the outskirts of towns. Arthur had appeared obviously distracted by everything around him, but he managed to keep himself with Merlin as they moved through the quiet streets, trying his best to reduce the sound of the clanking metal.
Once inside the safety of his home, Merlin breathed a huge sigh of relief and leaned back against the door. The first part had been done. He knew they had a long road ahead of them, but at least they’d started. Meanwhile, Arthur glanced at the room around them, pausing momentarily to stare at the television, before continuing his scan of the room around him.
“I don’t understand most of this furniture, Merlin.”
“All in good time,” he said as he approached his King and started the familiar, but long unused process of removing Arthur’s armor. “I admit, there’s much to tell you about the twenty first century, but that’s not the priority right now.”
“And what is the priority?”
“Making sure you’re healthy enough to face whatever is to come.”
“And what’s the come, exactly?”
“Haven’t the faintest,” Merlin said with a smirk. “But whatever it is, you’ll be needed for it.”
After a few silent minutes, Arthur’s armor was completely removed and Merlin moved over to the kitchen area of the room to pour them each a glass of water.
“Change back into you,” Arthur blurted out.
“What? I am me,” Merlin said as he handed a glass to Arthur. The King took a sip before continuing.
“No. Young you. The you that I knew.”
“It’s not the same. I was young then, but aged myself. I’m not young anymore, Arthur. This is who I am.”
“There’s got to be a way.”
“Why’s this important? We have to do what you’ve been brought back for. This is clearly-”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, exasperated.
“Why?”
“Because,” Arthur said, for once lowering his voice and showing an uneasiness that Merlin was quite sure few had ever glimpsed before. “I need something familiar, Merlin. Everything is different. The roads are different. The houses are different. The clothes are different. And you’re different, too. I just want something I know.”
“Fine,” Merlin said with a sigh. “I’ll work on it. You should rest here for the night. I’ll gather supplies as you sleep and be back in the morning.” Merlin grabbed his backpack and started looking around for his jacket, but Arthur interrupted him before he could get out the door.
“Merlin.”
“What,” Merlin snapped, sounding a little more irritated than he’d intended.
“I’d... I’d quite like to draw a bath before you leave. I did just resurrect from the dead and paddle my way across a lake.”
Merlin grinned.
“Oh, you are in for a surprise. Follow me,” he said as he gestured towards the bathroom. Arthur hesitantly followed him into the tiny white room and watched as Merlin reached into a stall and jiggled a handle on the wall. Water suddenly came shooting out of a spigot above it.
“Turn it left for hot water, right for cold water, and push down to turn the water off. You’ve got your soap in this here,” he said as he gestured towards a tall blue bottle. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m here to serve you, but a shower is a one man operation. And besides, if you want me to change my appearance I need to get going. The nearest place I can pick up supplies is at least two hours away. I hope I don’t wake the Smiths. Their garden is so extensive and I’m always fumbling around it in the middle of the night disrupting their chickens.”
Arthur stood in the middle of the tiny room staring at each individual strange object, bewildered by everything around him. Merlin shook his head, unsure if he’d even been heard, and brushed past the King back out into the main room. Arthur stayed behind, peeking briefly inside a cabinet above the toilet to examine its contents. Merlin was already putting on his coat and heading towards the door by they time Arthur exited the bathroom.
“That big white seat is your chamber pot,” Merlin said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “There’s a small handle on the back that you push down when you’re done. Don’t be startled by what happens next. And if you need fresh clothes after the shower feel free to pilfer my dresser, but I doubt any of it will fit you. The Smith’s have a son about your size. Might wake them and see I can borrow some of his clothes. And most importantly, Arthur?”
“Hm,” Arthur said, once again becoming distracted by the new world around him.
“Get some rest. I will explain more in the morning. I promise.”
With that, Merlin left out the door, leaving a confused Arthur alone in the cottage. Arthur momentarily considered going to sleep, but when he realized the room wasn’t being illuminated by candles that he could easily blow out, he realized that was a losing battle.
Read on AO3
Author: Angel_kink
Rating: PG (will go up later)
Words: ~2400 this chapter
Warning: Brief mention of actual terrorist events in this chapter, but it’s not a central focus of the story
Summary: The world is in turmoil and the Future King returns.
A/N: I’ve never written Merthur before, so I’m still learning their voices, but how could I not respond to that finale, man? HOW? I want this to be ongoing, so it’ll definitely be a WIP for a while. Also, my normal beta hasn’t caught up with Merlin, so this is unbeta’d. Volunteers welcome!
Chapter One
Merlin had traveled the world alone for 1,500 years. He’d watched magic rise and fall and disappear into myths and legends. He stood by as new technology developed at an exponential rate, surpassing his wildest imagination. He saw nations build up and crumble and rebuild themselves again and again. He saw wars, disease, famine, and genocide. Merlin had visited every continent and almost all of the established countries that formed borders since he’d watched Arthur drift into the mist.
Every once in awhile he’d find himself back at the shores waiting for Arthur’s return. There were many times when Merlin felt the world needed him, but the island remained silent. War after war after war and nothing happened. Merlin was certain the Second World War was it. He’d felt it in his bones. When he watched the war spread across the globe he headed back to Avalon and settled into the town as he did several times per century. When the war reached his doorstep he still continued to keep watch over the water all night waiting. But Arthur never came.
He’d stayed in the small village near Avalon for three decades that time. He knew the locals were growing suspicious that such a frail old man showed up looking like he was on death’s door, but never seemed to die, just as they did every time he showed up in town. He had to leave. The war had seemed to settle down anyway and there were new places to explore and things to learn. Even though television was bringing the news from all across the globe directly to his home, he still liked to get out and make new contacts in the ever changing world.
Thirty years, later the largest city in North America was attacked, horrific footage broadcast throughout the world, and new wars broke out across the globe. The world was never truly at peace, but with such violent imagery so easily spread to the public, tensions rose and conflicts reached further than they’d ever reached before. For a decade he watched media evolve and fear and paranoia spread across the globe. He watched the Internet come into creation. He watched events from one side of the globe be broadcasts instantaneously to the other and he watched as people hundreds of countries comment on it with each other in real time. The fear was global. Things seemed to have met a crescendo and something needed to be done.
Merlin wondered if forty years was enough time to return to the region. Merlin played this game at least twice a century and he’d have a few close calls, but hadn’t yet been recognized by a local. There were those who knew his secret, but none of the villagers had a clue that the greatest sorcerer who ever lived was an on again off again resident. He wanted to keep it that way. If he returned too soon he risked being remembered by someone he may have known from his previous residency. But if he didn’t go, Arthur could emerge alone and confused and Merlin couldn’t stand to think of it.
The town hadn’t changed much from the last time he’d seen it. Some shop windows had signs of modern technology, electronic displays and lights, but things had remained much the same for at least the last two centuries. He found a small rental unit at the edge of town that consisted of one large room and a small bathroom with fixtures that hadn’t changed since the last time Merlin was in town. He didn’t need much, anyway.
Through all the centuries standing watch for him, Merlin never once lost hope that the Once and Future King would return. This night, three months after Merlin had settled back into the village, was no different. He sat out on the ledge of the lake watched out over the water after the sun had set and the villagers had gone to sleep. The fog danced off the water as it did almost every night, but the water remained still and undisturbed. His vigil would usually last until sun up, when he’d return to his cottage and take on the reclusive personality that had kept him safe over the centuries.
But on this night, things were different. It started with a clearing in the fog followed by small ripples coming from across the lake. Sometimes local wildlife would disturb the placid waters and on occasion the wind would clear the fog, but every sign of disturbance put Merlin on guard. When Merlin felt the wave of magic ripple out from the island like a shockwave, however, Merlin was instantly on his feet and alert.
Several long minutes passed and Merlin felt the magic pulsing from across the water. Since magic had nearly died out several centuries ago, Merlin hadn’t felt that much power sustained over such a large period of time. It rekindled the magic inside of him and brought to life pieces of himself he’d long since forgotten. He remembered Camelot then. He felt Camelot inside him, around him, pulsing through his veins. It was like he never left. He could almost hear the neighing of the horses on High Street and the murmur of the shopkeepers and pedestrians that Merlin encountered as he ran his errands. He remembered Arthur. The sound of Arthur’s voice...
When a small shadowy figure began to emerge from the shadows of the island, Merlin stepped carefully into the water, resisting the urge to start swimming out towards it. He strained himself to see across the water, but the pulse of magic had seemed to create a barrier around the island that prevented him from seeing further than his own weak eyes could manage. It has to be Aurthur, he thought.
As the figure came closer, Merlin could make out the blonde head of hair and the ruby red cloak and before Merlin knew what he was doing he was wading out into the water to greet his King. Arthur was rowing his funeral boat with a small piece of wood that he’d most likely found on the shores of Avalon, making his way slowly, but steadily across the lake. When Merlin was knee deep in the water they met and Arthur hopped out of the boat and stared at Merlin wide eyed.
“Merlin?”
“Sire?”
“Why the disguise this time,” Arthur said, pushing the boat aside and wading towards Merlin. “I know who you are.”
“Not a disguise this time, my friend. I fear some time has passed since we’ve last met.”
The next thing Merlin knew he was being pulled into a hug. His frail body ached at the roughness of Arthur’s grip, but he was too overjoyed at the return of his King to care. His body had survived for so many centuries already, they could withstand this. Merlin let himself get lost in the moment, enjoying the fact that Arthur was here. He was alive and warm and solid. He wasn’t the product of his imagination. But Merlin also knew that he had a job to do, too, and that was the priority.
“Arthur, I need to get you inside before someone sees.” Merlin reluctantly pulled out of the hug and began guiding Arthur to the shore.
“How much time has passed?”
“A lot,” Merlin snapped as he suddenly realized that marching into a lake with his shoes on with a bad back was a bad idea. His feet got stuck in the mud as he tried to climb out of the water and he nearly fell. Had it not been for Arthur at his side he would have fallen face first into the grass.
“How long, exactly, Merlin.” It wasn’t a question, but a command. Arthur helped Merlin out of the lake and followed him away from the shore.
“Fifteen centuries, give or take a decade.”
“Fifteen centuries? Merlin!”
“Home, now,” Merlin said as he started marching in the direction of the town. Aurthur’s armour clanked together loudly as he trailed behind him. “Dammit. We’ll be lucky if we don’t wake up the whole village when we arrive.”
Merlin heard the armor suddenly stop moving and he turned around to look at Arthur, who was staring bewildered at a glowing street lamp on the side of the road. Merlin sighed. He’d known the transition would be difficult, but he just wanted to get Arthur back to his cottage as soon as possible before he had to explain everything.
“Arthur! We need to go. If the locals see you they’ll start asking questions and we really can’t have that right now.”
“The locals will have questions? Merlin, I have question.”
“Yes, of course. I figured you would, but I’m actually going to answer your questions. Once we get inside.”
Arthur curled his lip, obviously wanting to argue with the tone Merlin was using, but he just shook his head and followed.
-
Twenty minutes later they arrived in the village and hastily made their way to Merlin’s cottage on the outskirts of towns. Arthur had appeared obviously distracted by everything around him, but he managed to keep himself with Merlin as they moved through the quiet streets, trying his best to reduce the sound of the clanking metal.
Once inside the safety of his home, Merlin breathed a huge sigh of relief and leaned back against the door. The first part had been done. He knew they had a long road ahead of them, but at least they’d started. Meanwhile, Arthur glanced at the room around them, pausing momentarily to stare at the television, before continuing his scan of the room around him.
“I don’t understand most of this furniture, Merlin.”
“All in good time,” he said as he approached his King and started the familiar, but long unused process of removing Arthur’s armor. “I admit, there’s much to tell you about the twenty first century, but that’s not the priority right now.”
“And what is the priority?”
“Making sure you’re healthy enough to face whatever is to come.”
“And what’s the come, exactly?”
“Haven’t the faintest,” Merlin said with a smirk. “But whatever it is, you’ll be needed for it.”
After a few silent minutes, Arthur’s armor was completely removed and Merlin moved over to the kitchen area of the room to pour them each a glass of water.
“Change back into you,” Arthur blurted out.
“What? I am me,” Merlin said as he handed a glass to Arthur. The King took a sip before continuing.
“No. Young you. The you that I knew.”
“It’s not the same. I was young then, but aged myself. I’m not young anymore, Arthur. This is who I am.”
“There’s got to be a way.”
“Why’s this important? We have to do what you’ve been brought back for. This is clearly-”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, exasperated.
“Why?”
“Because,” Arthur said, for once lowering his voice and showing an uneasiness that Merlin was quite sure few had ever glimpsed before. “I need something familiar, Merlin. Everything is different. The roads are different. The houses are different. The clothes are different. And you’re different, too. I just want something I know.”
“Fine,” Merlin said with a sigh. “I’ll work on it. You should rest here for the night. I’ll gather supplies as you sleep and be back in the morning.” Merlin grabbed his backpack and started looking around for his jacket, but Arthur interrupted him before he could get out the door.
“Merlin.”
“What,” Merlin snapped, sounding a little more irritated than he’d intended.
“I’d... I’d quite like to draw a bath before you leave. I did just resurrect from the dead and paddle my way across a lake.”
Merlin grinned.
“Oh, you are in for a surprise. Follow me,” he said as he gestured towards the bathroom. Arthur hesitantly followed him into the tiny white room and watched as Merlin reached into a stall and jiggled a handle on the wall. Water suddenly came shooting out of a spigot above it.
“Turn it left for hot water, right for cold water, and push down to turn the water off. You’ve got your soap in this here,” he said as he gestured towards a tall blue bottle. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m here to serve you, but a shower is a one man operation. And besides, if you want me to change my appearance I need to get going. The nearest place I can pick up supplies is at least two hours away. I hope I don’t wake the Smiths. Their garden is so extensive and I’m always fumbling around it in the middle of the night disrupting their chickens.”
Arthur stood in the middle of the tiny room staring at each individual strange object, bewildered by everything around him. Merlin shook his head, unsure if he’d even been heard, and brushed past the King back out into the main room. Arthur stayed behind, peeking briefly inside a cabinet above the toilet to examine its contents. Merlin was already putting on his coat and heading towards the door by they time Arthur exited the bathroom.
“That big white seat is your chamber pot,” Merlin said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “There’s a small handle on the back that you push down when you’re done. Don’t be startled by what happens next. And if you need fresh clothes after the shower feel free to pilfer my dresser, but I doubt any of it will fit you. The Smith’s have a son about your size. Might wake them and see I can borrow some of his clothes. And most importantly, Arthur?”
“Hm,” Arthur said, once again becoming distracted by the new world around him.
“Get some rest. I will explain more in the morning. I promise.”
With that, Merlin left out the door, leaving a confused Arthur alone in the cottage. Arthur momentarily considered going to sleep, but when he realized the room wasn’t being illuminated by candles that he could easily blow out, he realized that was a losing battle.