Merlin fic: Different Ways of Living ~ Reincarnation (1/3)
Title: Different Ways of Living: Reincarnation
Author: dk323
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, past Merlin/Morgana & Arthur/Gwen
Spoilers: 2x12 did not happen as hinted at in the first part, so there’s no bad blood between Merlin and Morgana.
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC.
Summary: Merlin is a year old when he remembers his past human life. And with that, he has proper control of his magic. He visits the past.
Author’s Notes: There are three sections to this sequel, hence the title, "Different Ways of Living." I feel that they would work best as separate chapters, so I'm posting the first part now... I am in the midst of writing the second section, and I started the last section. The next two parts will deal with "living to death" (any Doctor Who fans who've seen "Blink" will get what I mean...;)) and immortality. Hope you enjoy this part. :) I love writing in this verse. ♥
Previous parts: The first reincarnation was peculiar, to say the least and A Dog's Life
~ * ~
Reincarnation
Uneventful, Merlin would say, about when he remembered his past human life - once again feeling connected with his true identity.
And it had happened on a rather normal day. Arthur was at work and he had left a one year old Merlin to spend the day outside as the weather was pleasant. So Merlin lay about in the sun a bit, maybe sometimes moving over to the shade when the heat grew too uncomfortable.
When he wanted to stretch his legs, he decided to hunt down any intriguing scents in the area. Particularly, he checked to make sure any plants didn’t smell different from the last time he sniffed them, admittedly disappointed when there was little change in the smell. Merlin also chased a few squirrels, no flying squirrels sadly, up the young tree in the backyard.
And while he already had a bone and a porcupine squeaky toy (he had ripped off some of the fake fur from the toy in annoyance when he couldn’t get it to squeak - ruddy porcupine) to play with, his magic was being especially nice to him that day and provided him with another amusement. It was a red ball that threw itself, like if Arthur were throwing the ball for Merlin to fetch it. He enjoyed himself quite a lot with that ball.
When he was hungry or thirsty, Merlin ventured into his specially made doghouse where there was food and water for him. The doghouse had been finished when Merlin was four months old; Arthur deciding that the puppy needed a little home for himself. Merlin’s house was made out of dark wood and had, to Merlin’s puzzlement, the words -“The Wizard of Oz” and below it, “Pay no attention to that dog behind the curtain” engraved on a plaque nailed above the opening to the doghouse. He could sort of understand the wizard reference, but the “pay no attention” part flummoxed him.
Arthur and Morgana -- when she had come by to visit -- had both done a poor job at restraining their laughter upon seeing the words. Merlin had been torn between confusion and being affronted at them making fun of his doghouse. But then Arthur and Morgana had both pet him and kissed him and Merlin didn’t mind so much anymore after that.
Back to the present: as it turned out, the squirrels who he had forced to run and hide in the tree were not happy with Merlin.
And so, as a consequence, acorns fell from the young tree, which Merlin had been relaxing under at that time.
The acorns hit his head, one by one, and did it hurt! He let loose an aggravated bark, but Merlin stopped when a whole host of memories of his human life - the very reason why he had been named Merlin - came in an overwhelming rush into his mind. And with that, he felt himself gain control of his magic. It was akin to getting control of the reins while riding a horse…no longer did the horse not follow the rider’s orders and instead, now, the rider had direct control of where the horse could go, which way to turn, when to stop and so on.
The feeling of having that control returned to him was exciting, but it was tempered by the sheer weight and burden of memories of his original life, pre-reincarnation. It weighed on him and Merlin wondered how Arthur handled it everyday -- with such memories to sort through, but the blond still had to live day to day in this modern world, so different from Camelot, from how things were centuries ago.
And then Merlin knew where he had to go. He knew where he had to be at that moment. It was only now, remembering, that allowed him to recall where he was needed.
Inside his mind, he spoke carefully crafted words of magic and as soon as he finished, Merlin transported himself away.
Back to Camelot, his first life.
~ * ~
Merlin remembered this cottage. He had chosen to reside there after Arthur’s death in battle, the sorcerer unable to return to Camelot, to the strong memories the castle held of the Once and Future King, without the sadness at the loss overwhelming him. Gwen, Morgana and even some of the knights (Lancelot had died alongside Arthur in the same last battle, and this loss of Camelot’s head knight only served to deepen Merlin’s melancholy) had tried to get him stay, but Merlin could not be persuaded to remain in Camelot.
Everything had changed, and Merlin truly could not bear to live in Camelot anymore with Arthur gone. And so, he had chosen to retire peacefully in the country, in a small but adequate cottage. To occupy his time, he made and sold tinctures, Gaius’ teachings never forgotten, and sometimes, Merlin taught some of the local children - some possessing magic, some not - and his former role as King Arthur’s chief magical advisor proved useful when applying patience and diplomacy in dealing with the children of all ages who had come under his tutelage.
Recalling not being alone on his last night at the cottage, Merlin could not play with fate - though, of course, the dog had no intention of doing so.
If you could comfort a past version of yourself as they lay on their deathbed, wouldn’t you do so without a moment’s thought?
Upon landing in his long ago home, he immediately saw himself, an old man, reading a book while resting in bed.
The man peered at the dog, a flash of recognition shining in his still bright blue eyes.
“Come here then,” He invited softly, patting the empty space by him.
The dog jumped up on the bed, trying to be careful about it so as not to upset his past self.
The dog settled snugly beside the man who pet him once on the head, giving him a small smile afterwards. Then the human Merlin frowned at the book he was reading, and said, “I do think there is something wrong with this book,” He remarked.
The dog thought it may have to do with the book being upside down, and he told the man so. The reincarnated Merlin wasn’t sure if the mental link would exist so his past self could understand him…these matters were tricky after all, but his uncertainty was unfounded as the man laughed quietly which soon turned into a cough.
“Arthur always thought me an idiot…” The old man mused after his cough subsided, his expression sad for a fleeting moment before he sighed. He set the book aside on the nearby table.
“Arthur’s been reborn. He’s thirty now. He takes care of me,” Merlin told his past self earnestly, as a way to reassure him.
The man looked a bit amused at the news, and it was then that he noted what it said on the dog’s tag.
“I never expected this,” He told the dog, his eyes twinkling and he looked about ready to laugh, but he refrained. Instead he stroked the black dog liberally, and the dog rested his head on the human’s chest.
“Is Arthur happy?” The man asked.
“Yes,” Merlin answered his past self. He could not give him another answer but this, and even if it weren’t true, he would still tell him the same. He only wished to reassure himself after all. That was what mattered most now.
Still, from Merlin’s perspective, his somewhat limited vantage point as a dog, he did think that Arthur was satisfied with his life, that he was coping well enough no matter the memories of Camelot to contend with.
And now, at least, Merlin truly understood what it meant to be a reincarnation, what sacrifice it was to hold such memories and try to balance them with his current life as a dog. It wasn’t exactly the same as Arthur’s predicament or Morgana’s, true; after all, they were humans, but the familiarity, the understanding could not be denied.
The human Merlin smiled, pleased, and then inquired as he pet the dog, “And you? Are you happy?”
“Yes, I am,” the dog told him easily.
“I am glad that all is well,” his past self said, sounding reassured - almost as if he could now pass away without worry…knowing that everything would turn out all right.
The man then said, emotion lacing his words. “Thank you,” he whispered to the dog, moving to press his lips atop the creature’s furry head, a small kiss of gratitude, maybe of goodbye. Maybe, his past self already knew…
Soon after, the human Merlin claimed tiredness and he informed the dog that he was going to rest his eyes for a little while.
Merlin knew what was going to happen, and he just resisted releasing a mournful whine because of it. Instead, he kept his head upon the old man’s chest, over his weakly beating heart, and the human Merlin had placed his arm about him, embracing his reincarnated self.
It was hours later, when the sun was beginning to rise to start a new day, that the dog could not hear the man’s heartbeat anymore.
The Merlin who had come to call Camelot his home and who had served King Arthur faithfully all those years had, in the end, died in his sleep.
Even the greatest, most powerful of sorcerers were not infallible. Merlin had only been human at the heart of it, at the end of his life, he grew old and weak like anyone else.
And even now, as a dog, Merlin still did not fancy himself as the greatest sorcerer of all time - how even people in his current modern life deemed him without truly knowing who Merlin was. All of it, all of his magic, all he had to offer was for Arthur’s sake, for Arthur’s kingdom, for Camelot. And he had simply done the best he could.
He watched solemnly as a bright white light left his former self and then disappeared once it touched the ceiling.
Merlin departed from the cottage, opening the door with his magic, and once he was outside, he glimpsed the white light high in the sky. It was as if the light were a star, the Merlin star, he thought-feeling silly about it immediately after, but he was in a bit of an odd mood now. And soon, the light blinked out and was gone.
Knowing that he would be able to return at the very moment he had left, so that Arthur would not even realize his dog had traveled in time while he was at work (and oh, did Merlin feel not a little bit gleeful at Arthur’s finding out of his memories returning), Merlin stayed by the cottage for a little while longer.
He couldn’t help but recall a memory from early on in Arthur’s reign. If Merlin had known then how their discussion had mostly foreshadowed what was to be, then well, he would have thought all of them to be Seers like Morgana.
It had been him, Arthur, Morgana and Gwen having a picnic outside on a warm, slightly breezy yet comfortable day. Morgana had her head on Merlin’s lap, a book propped up before her, and she had been the one to bring up the topic.
“It says here that it’s impossible to transform into a dragon,” Morgana pointed out. “I fear this text is outdated, don’t you think so, Merlin?” She asked him.
She repositioned herself so that she was sitting beside him now, and pointing to the passage in question. Meanwhile, Merlin was trying not to grimace too much at Arthur’s deep laugh and Gwen’s soft giggle at the mention of dragon transformation.
Morgana, too, appeared amused as well, smiling widely.
Merlin shook his head. “Oh yes, very funny,” He said sarcastically. “So the fire came out the wrong end. Why all of you must remember that particular, inconsequential detail, I don’t even know.”
“I think we all can agree that it was impressive, Merlin. We would never say it wasn’t,” Arthur tried to reassure him, but the way he said it, Merlin could very well hear the hint of mockery in his tone.
“Oh, Merlin. You know we’re just teasing you. You made a lovely dragon, absolutely magnificent,” Morgana praised him, kissing him once on the lips to prove her sincerity.
Arthur looked about ready to let out another laugh, but he, wisely, stopped himself at Merlin’s warning look.
“Anyway,” Morgana said, setting the book aside, and drawing the others’ attention to her. “I was wondering if anyone has given thought to what animal you would most wish to be… if you had the chance to live your whole life as any creature. On my part, I think a bird or maybe even a butterfly would be nice.”
“Merlin would be a dog,” Arthur contributed before Merlin could say one word.
“Hey!” Merlin exclaimed. “Just because you’re the King, Your Majesty, doesn’t mean you speak for me.”
“Oh, but I do think Merlin would make a good dog. He would be awfully cute as a puppy, I imagine,” Gwen said thoughtfully.
So clearly she was no help - apparently marrying Arthur had made her touched in the head. Lost cause, Merlin had concluded.
“Not a hunting dog, I expect,” Arthur pressed on to Merlin’s chagrin. “We all know Merlin’s useless at that. He’d be a bit scrawny, maybe. Big ears,” He finished, flapping his own ears back and forth to prove his point.
Merlin crossed his arms in frustration. “I’ll just leave now then, shall I?”
He moved to stand up, but Morgana - traitor - grabbed him by the arm and prevented him from leaving. “Stay, please,” she murmured to him.
Merlin sighed and he reluctantly acquiesced.
Morgana turned to face the blond. “Arthur, stop being such an arse,” she reprimanded him.
He waved his hand at her. Then he turned back to Merlin. He said, smirking. “I’m sorry that you’re such a girl, Merlin.”
“I’m sorry that you’re such a prat,” Merlin sharply retorted.
“All right, you two! Before Gwen and I shuffle the both of you off into the naughty corner,” Morgana cut in before Arthur could deliver a loving remark, she was sure.
“Why did you choose a dog for Merlin?” Morgana asked Arthur, doing her best to keep the talk civil.
Arthur shrugged. “Well, isn’t it obvious? Merlin was Gaius’ dogsbody as well as mine, and he’s still my--”
Merlin took affront to that. “Like hell I am! It’s advisor, remember? Surely it’s not all air in that blond head of yours.”
“I think you were a fishwife in another life, Merlin. Better watch yourself,” Arthur remarked, looking highly amused.
Merlin glared at him. He smiled deviously not a moment later as if an idea had suddenly formed in his mind. “Say something nice or I’ll make you bald.”
Arthur huffed. “Merlin, I’m not that vain…”
“I really do mean it,” Merlin countered, wiggling his fingers at the king in threat.
“Really, Arthur. This has gone on long enough. You should be better than this,” Gwen admonished, frowning at him.
“Thank you, Gwen,” Merlin said emphatically. Okay, so maybe Gwen was all right now…
“Very well. I don’t see what’s so bad about a dog… they have good qualities, don’t they? Loyalty, for one. I could think of no man more loyal than you are, Merlin,” Arthur said frankly, smiling at him softly. “And also, your welcoming nature and your, well, your overall haplessness - and how despite all that, everyone can’t help but love you and that includes me,” He finished, his blue eyes piercing into Merlin’s.
Morgana and Gwen both “aww”ed at Arthur’s declaration, appearing quite touched at what he had said regarding Merlin.
“Er, thank you,” Merlin said, taken aback.
The king then moved forward and kissed Merlin soundly on the lips, before he pulled away and returned to his place beside Gwen.
In his daze after the kiss, Merlin didn’t see the exchange of coins between Morgana and Gwen, both women smirking behind their hands.
“So, yes, that’s why I chose a dog for Merlin…unless Merlin would like to counter that…?” Arthur looked to Merlin.
Merlin mumbled something unintelligible.
“What was that, love?” Morgana asked him to clarify.
Merlin raised his hands in exasperation. “I was debating between a squirrel or a fish, okay? Thought a squirrel would be fun…and a fish…well, the water’s nice. It’s peaceful…” He paused, looking uncertain then.
Arthur stared at him like the sorcerer had grown two heads.
Merlin sighed resignedly. “Fine then. A dog’s perfect. Just brilliant. And what’ll you be then, Arthur?”
The blond appeared deep in thought for a long moment before he shrugged. “I would think you’d want some company, so I’d be a dog too. But, of course, I would be a proper dog - a hunting dog.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you, Arthur dear,” Gwen said, kissing him on the cheek.
“I can never be rid of you, can I?” Merlin bemoaned, though the others knew he was faking it.
Arthur grinned at him. Then he said, “But honestly, I would like to be a bird, so that I could fly.”
“And you would want to be a proper bird, right? A bird of prey, a hunting bird?” Merlin remarked, not even stopping himself from rolling his eyes.
Arthur would always be a warrior, a knight, at the heart of it. It was a part of Arthur that could not be changed, and frankly, Merlin didn’t want to. That’s what made the King of Camelot who he was after all.
Arthur nodded curtly. “Yes, of course.”
“Songbirds are perfectly sweet birds, Arthur. It would make you more of a man if you are brave enough to choose such a bird,” Morgana pointed out to him.
But Arthur was not listening. “Be quiet, Morgana. I don’t want a ‘sweet’ bird. It may work for you, but certainly not for me.”
Morgana just gave him, “you’re hopeless, what will I do with you?” look before turning to Gwen. “And what about you, Gwen? What animal do you choose?”
Gwen bit her lip, and then coming to a decision, she answered, “A cat would be best, I think. They can be such wise creatures and sweet too.”
Merlin and Morgana both seemed to approve of the choice, Merlin saying, “I could picture that. You would make a great cat, Gwen.”
“Thank you, Merlin,” she said, smiling at him.
Morgana then directed their attention to the air. She gasped. “Oh my goodness! I think that’s Arthur!”
Merlin tried to look innocent, but he was failing at it.
Gwen stared and then she couldn’t resist laughing. “Merlin! Oh dear - did you turn Arthur into a falcon?”
Morgana shook her head. “No, Gwen…I think it’s a particular type of falcon,” she told her, beginning to see the joke behind Merlin’s spell-casting on Arthur.
Merlin looked quite eager to explain as he said, “A Merlin falcon, actually. My mother named me after such a bird you know,” he informed them.
“Oh, he’s trying to fly! Bless him!” Gwen cried, trying not to dissolve into giggles.
And the memory soon faded away for the reincarnated Merlin - with the last thing he saw being his past self grinning as he watched bird Arthur trying to gain better control of his wings in flight.
That had been a happy day, Merlin remembered fondly. It had been days like those that now made him yearn for Camelot. But those days were long gone - centuries had past since King Arthur’s time.
With a long sigh, Merlin mentally spoke the spell to return to his current time period - where he was a dog and Arthur was a human…and where Arthur’s long ago musings of the two of them being dogs together didn’t quite work out. Merlin was glad to have Guinevere, Knight -- or Lancelot as his true name was -- and Leon to help fill that void.
~ * ~
Living to Death: Part 2a | Living to Death: Part 2b
Author: dk323
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, past Merlin/Morgana & Arthur/Gwen
Spoilers: 2x12 did not happen as hinted at in the first part, so there’s no bad blood between Merlin and Morgana.
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC.
Summary: Merlin is a year old when he remembers his past human life. And with that, he has proper control of his magic. He visits the past.
Author’s Notes: There are three sections to this sequel, hence the title, "Different Ways of Living." I feel that they would work best as separate chapters, so I'm posting the first part now... I am in the midst of writing the second section, and I started the last section. The next two parts will deal with "living to death" (any Doctor Who fans who've seen "Blink" will get what I mean...;)) and immortality. Hope you enjoy this part. :) I love writing in this verse. ♥
Previous parts: The first reincarnation was peculiar, to say the least and A Dog's Life
~ * ~
Reincarnation
Uneventful, Merlin would say, about when he remembered his past human life - once again feeling connected with his true identity.
And it had happened on a rather normal day. Arthur was at work and he had left a one year old Merlin to spend the day outside as the weather was pleasant. So Merlin lay about in the sun a bit, maybe sometimes moving over to the shade when the heat grew too uncomfortable.
When he wanted to stretch his legs, he decided to hunt down any intriguing scents in the area. Particularly, he checked to make sure any plants didn’t smell different from the last time he sniffed them, admittedly disappointed when there was little change in the smell. Merlin also chased a few squirrels, no flying squirrels sadly, up the young tree in the backyard.
And while he already had a bone and a porcupine squeaky toy (he had ripped off some of the fake fur from the toy in annoyance when he couldn’t get it to squeak - ruddy porcupine) to play with, his magic was being especially nice to him that day and provided him with another amusement. It was a red ball that threw itself, like if Arthur were throwing the ball for Merlin to fetch it. He enjoyed himself quite a lot with that ball.
When he was hungry or thirsty, Merlin ventured into his specially made doghouse where there was food and water for him. The doghouse had been finished when Merlin was four months old; Arthur deciding that the puppy needed a little home for himself. Merlin’s house was made out of dark wood and had, to Merlin’s puzzlement, the words -“The Wizard of Oz” and below it, “Pay no attention to that dog behind the curtain” engraved on a plaque nailed above the opening to the doghouse. He could sort of understand the wizard reference, but the “pay no attention” part flummoxed him.
Arthur and Morgana -- when she had come by to visit -- had both done a poor job at restraining their laughter upon seeing the words. Merlin had been torn between confusion and being affronted at them making fun of his doghouse. But then Arthur and Morgana had both pet him and kissed him and Merlin didn’t mind so much anymore after that.
Back to the present: as it turned out, the squirrels who he had forced to run and hide in the tree were not happy with Merlin.
And so, as a consequence, acorns fell from the young tree, which Merlin had been relaxing under at that time.
The acorns hit his head, one by one, and did it hurt! He let loose an aggravated bark, but Merlin stopped when a whole host of memories of his human life - the very reason why he had been named Merlin - came in an overwhelming rush into his mind. And with that, he felt himself gain control of his magic. It was akin to getting control of the reins while riding a horse…no longer did the horse not follow the rider’s orders and instead, now, the rider had direct control of where the horse could go, which way to turn, when to stop and so on.
The feeling of having that control returned to him was exciting, but it was tempered by the sheer weight and burden of memories of his original life, pre-reincarnation. It weighed on him and Merlin wondered how Arthur handled it everyday -- with such memories to sort through, but the blond still had to live day to day in this modern world, so different from Camelot, from how things were centuries ago.
And then Merlin knew where he had to go. He knew where he had to be at that moment. It was only now, remembering, that allowed him to recall where he was needed.
Inside his mind, he spoke carefully crafted words of magic and as soon as he finished, Merlin transported himself away.
Back to Camelot, his first life.
~ * ~
Merlin remembered this cottage. He had chosen to reside there after Arthur’s death in battle, the sorcerer unable to return to Camelot, to the strong memories the castle held of the Once and Future King, without the sadness at the loss overwhelming him. Gwen, Morgana and even some of the knights (Lancelot had died alongside Arthur in the same last battle, and this loss of Camelot’s head knight only served to deepen Merlin’s melancholy) had tried to get him stay, but Merlin could not be persuaded to remain in Camelot.
Everything had changed, and Merlin truly could not bear to live in Camelot anymore with Arthur gone. And so, he had chosen to retire peacefully in the country, in a small but adequate cottage. To occupy his time, he made and sold tinctures, Gaius’ teachings never forgotten, and sometimes, Merlin taught some of the local children - some possessing magic, some not - and his former role as King Arthur’s chief magical advisor proved useful when applying patience and diplomacy in dealing with the children of all ages who had come under his tutelage.
Recalling not being alone on his last night at the cottage, Merlin could not play with fate - though, of course, the dog had no intention of doing so.
If you could comfort a past version of yourself as they lay on their deathbed, wouldn’t you do so without a moment’s thought?
Upon landing in his long ago home, he immediately saw himself, an old man, reading a book while resting in bed.
The man peered at the dog, a flash of recognition shining in his still bright blue eyes.
“Come here then,” He invited softly, patting the empty space by him.
The dog jumped up on the bed, trying to be careful about it so as not to upset his past self.
The dog settled snugly beside the man who pet him once on the head, giving him a small smile afterwards. Then the human Merlin frowned at the book he was reading, and said, “I do think there is something wrong with this book,” He remarked.
The dog thought it may have to do with the book being upside down, and he told the man so. The reincarnated Merlin wasn’t sure if the mental link would exist so his past self could understand him…these matters were tricky after all, but his uncertainty was unfounded as the man laughed quietly which soon turned into a cough.
“Arthur always thought me an idiot…” The old man mused after his cough subsided, his expression sad for a fleeting moment before he sighed. He set the book aside on the nearby table.
“Arthur’s been reborn. He’s thirty now. He takes care of me,” Merlin told his past self earnestly, as a way to reassure him.
The man looked a bit amused at the news, and it was then that he noted what it said on the dog’s tag.
“I never expected this,” He told the dog, his eyes twinkling and he looked about ready to laugh, but he refrained. Instead he stroked the black dog liberally, and the dog rested his head on the human’s chest.
“Is Arthur happy?” The man asked.
“Yes,” Merlin answered his past self. He could not give him another answer but this, and even if it weren’t true, he would still tell him the same. He only wished to reassure himself after all. That was what mattered most now.
Still, from Merlin’s perspective, his somewhat limited vantage point as a dog, he did think that Arthur was satisfied with his life, that he was coping well enough no matter the memories of Camelot to contend with.
And now, at least, Merlin truly understood what it meant to be a reincarnation, what sacrifice it was to hold such memories and try to balance them with his current life as a dog. It wasn’t exactly the same as Arthur’s predicament or Morgana’s, true; after all, they were humans, but the familiarity, the understanding could not be denied.
The human Merlin smiled, pleased, and then inquired as he pet the dog, “And you? Are you happy?”
“Yes, I am,” the dog told him easily.
“I am glad that all is well,” his past self said, sounding reassured - almost as if he could now pass away without worry…knowing that everything would turn out all right.
The man then said, emotion lacing his words. “Thank you,” he whispered to the dog, moving to press his lips atop the creature’s furry head, a small kiss of gratitude, maybe of goodbye. Maybe, his past self already knew…
Soon after, the human Merlin claimed tiredness and he informed the dog that he was going to rest his eyes for a little while.
Merlin knew what was going to happen, and he just resisted releasing a mournful whine because of it. Instead, he kept his head upon the old man’s chest, over his weakly beating heart, and the human Merlin had placed his arm about him, embracing his reincarnated self.
It was hours later, when the sun was beginning to rise to start a new day, that the dog could not hear the man’s heartbeat anymore.
The Merlin who had come to call Camelot his home and who had served King Arthur faithfully all those years had, in the end, died in his sleep.
Even the greatest, most powerful of sorcerers were not infallible. Merlin had only been human at the heart of it, at the end of his life, he grew old and weak like anyone else.
And even now, as a dog, Merlin still did not fancy himself as the greatest sorcerer of all time - how even people in his current modern life deemed him without truly knowing who Merlin was. All of it, all of his magic, all he had to offer was for Arthur’s sake, for Arthur’s kingdom, for Camelot. And he had simply done the best he could.
He watched solemnly as a bright white light left his former self and then disappeared once it touched the ceiling.
Merlin departed from the cottage, opening the door with his magic, and once he was outside, he glimpsed the white light high in the sky. It was as if the light were a star, the Merlin star, he thought-feeling silly about it immediately after, but he was in a bit of an odd mood now. And soon, the light blinked out and was gone.
Knowing that he would be able to return at the very moment he had left, so that Arthur would not even realize his dog had traveled in time while he was at work (and oh, did Merlin feel not a little bit gleeful at Arthur’s finding out of his memories returning), Merlin stayed by the cottage for a little while longer.
He couldn’t help but recall a memory from early on in Arthur’s reign. If Merlin had known then how their discussion had mostly foreshadowed what was to be, then well, he would have thought all of them to be Seers like Morgana.
It had been him, Arthur, Morgana and Gwen having a picnic outside on a warm, slightly breezy yet comfortable day. Morgana had her head on Merlin’s lap, a book propped up before her, and she had been the one to bring up the topic.
“It says here that it’s impossible to transform into a dragon,” Morgana pointed out. “I fear this text is outdated, don’t you think so, Merlin?” She asked him.
She repositioned herself so that she was sitting beside him now, and pointing to the passage in question. Meanwhile, Merlin was trying not to grimace too much at Arthur’s deep laugh and Gwen’s soft giggle at the mention of dragon transformation.
Morgana, too, appeared amused as well, smiling widely.
Merlin shook his head. “Oh yes, very funny,” He said sarcastically. “So the fire came out the wrong end. Why all of you must remember that particular, inconsequential detail, I don’t even know.”
“I think we all can agree that it was impressive, Merlin. We would never say it wasn’t,” Arthur tried to reassure him, but the way he said it, Merlin could very well hear the hint of mockery in his tone.
“Oh, Merlin. You know we’re just teasing you. You made a lovely dragon, absolutely magnificent,” Morgana praised him, kissing him once on the lips to prove her sincerity.
Arthur looked about ready to let out another laugh, but he, wisely, stopped himself at Merlin’s warning look.
“Anyway,” Morgana said, setting the book aside, and drawing the others’ attention to her. “I was wondering if anyone has given thought to what animal you would most wish to be… if you had the chance to live your whole life as any creature. On my part, I think a bird or maybe even a butterfly would be nice.”
“Merlin would be a dog,” Arthur contributed before Merlin could say one word.
“Hey!” Merlin exclaimed. “Just because you’re the King, Your Majesty, doesn’t mean you speak for me.”
“Oh, but I do think Merlin would make a good dog. He would be awfully cute as a puppy, I imagine,” Gwen said thoughtfully.
So clearly she was no help - apparently marrying Arthur had made her touched in the head. Lost cause, Merlin had concluded.
“Not a hunting dog, I expect,” Arthur pressed on to Merlin’s chagrin. “We all know Merlin’s useless at that. He’d be a bit scrawny, maybe. Big ears,” He finished, flapping his own ears back and forth to prove his point.
Merlin crossed his arms in frustration. “I’ll just leave now then, shall I?”
He moved to stand up, but Morgana - traitor - grabbed him by the arm and prevented him from leaving. “Stay, please,” she murmured to him.
Merlin sighed and he reluctantly acquiesced.
Morgana turned to face the blond. “Arthur, stop being such an arse,” she reprimanded him.
He waved his hand at her. Then he turned back to Merlin. He said, smirking. “I’m sorry that you’re such a girl, Merlin.”
“I’m sorry that you’re such a prat,” Merlin sharply retorted.
“All right, you two! Before Gwen and I shuffle the both of you off into the naughty corner,” Morgana cut in before Arthur could deliver a loving remark, she was sure.
“Why did you choose a dog for Merlin?” Morgana asked Arthur, doing her best to keep the talk civil.
Arthur shrugged. “Well, isn’t it obvious? Merlin was Gaius’ dogsbody as well as mine, and he’s still my--”
Merlin took affront to that. “Like hell I am! It’s advisor, remember? Surely it’s not all air in that blond head of yours.”
“I think you were a fishwife in another life, Merlin. Better watch yourself,” Arthur remarked, looking highly amused.
Merlin glared at him. He smiled deviously not a moment later as if an idea had suddenly formed in his mind. “Say something nice or I’ll make you bald.”
Arthur huffed. “Merlin, I’m not that vain…”
“I really do mean it,” Merlin countered, wiggling his fingers at the king in threat.
“Really, Arthur. This has gone on long enough. You should be better than this,” Gwen admonished, frowning at him.
“Thank you, Gwen,” Merlin said emphatically. Okay, so maybe Gwen was all right now…
“Very well. I don’t see what’s so bad about a dog… they have good qualities, don’t they? Loyalty, for one. I could think of no man more loyal than you are, Merlin,” Arthur said frankly, smiling at him softly. “And also, your welcoming nature and your, well, your overall haplessness - and how despite all that, everyone can’t help but love you and that includes me,” He finished, his blue eyes piercing into Merlin’s.
Morgana and Gwen both “aww”ed at Arthur’s declaration, appearing quite touched at what he had said regarding Merlin.
“Er, thank you,” Merlin said, taken aback.
The king then moved forward and kissed Merlin soundly on the lips, before he pulled away and returned to his place beside Gwen.
In his daze after the kiss, Merlin didn’t see the exchange of coins between Morgana and Gwen, both women smirking behind their hands.
“So, yes, that’s why I chose a dog for Merlin…unless Merlin would like to counter that…?” Arthur looked to Merlin.
Merlin mumbled something unintelligible.
“What was that, love?” Morgana asked him to clarify.
Merlin raised his hands in exasperation. “I was debating between a squirrel or a fish, okay? Thought a squirrel would be fun…and a fish…well, the water’s nice. It’s peaceful…” He paused, looking uncertain then.
Arthur stared at him like the sorcerer had grown two heads.
Merlin sighed resignedly. “Fine then. A dog’s perfect. Just brilliant. And what’ll you be then, Arthur?”
The blond appeared deep in thought for a long moment before he shrugged. “I would think you’d want some company, so I’d be a dog too. But, of course, I would be a proper dog - a hunting dog.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you, Arthur dear,” Gwen said, kissing him on the cheek.
“I can never be rid of you, can I?” Merlin bemoaned, though the others knew he was faking it.
Arthur grinned at him. Then he said, “But honestly, I would like to be a bird, so that I could fly.”
“And you would want to be a proper bird, right? A bird of prey, a hunting bird?” Merlin remarked, not even stopping himself from rolling his eyes.
Arthur would always be a warrior, a knight, at the heart of it. It was a part of Arthur that could not be changed, and frankly, Merlin didn’t want to. That’s what made the King of Camelot who he was after all.
Arthur nodded curtly. “Yes, of course.”
“Songbirds are perfectly sweet birds, Arthur. It would make you more of a man if you are brave enough to choose such a bird,” Morgana pointed out to him.
But Arthur was not listening. “Be quiet, Morgana. I don’t want a ‘sweet’ bird. It may work for you, but certainly not for me.”
Morgana just gave him, “you’re hopeless, what will I do with you?” look before turning to Gwen. “And what about you, Gwen? What animal do you choose?”
Gwen bit her lip, and then coming to a decision, she answered, “A cat would be best, I think. They can be such wise creatures and sweet too.”
Merlin and Morgana both seemed to approve of the choice, Merlin saying, “I could picture that. You would make a great cat, Gwen.”
“Thank you, Merlin,” she said, smiling at him.
Morgana then directed their attention to the air. She gasped. “Oh my goodness! I think that’s Arthur!”
Merlin tried to look innocent, but he was failing at it.
Gwen stared and then she couldn’t resist laughing. “Merlin! Oh dear - did you turn Arthur into a falcon?”
Morgana shook her head. “No, Gwen…I think it’s a particular type of falcon,” she told her, beginning to see the joke behind Merlin’s spell-casting on Arthur.
Merlin looked quite eager to explain as he said, “A Merlin falcon, actually. My mother named me after such a bird you know,” he informed them.
“Oh, he’s trying to fly! Bless him!” Gwen cried, trying not to dissolve into giggles.
And the memory soon faded away for the reincarnated Merlin - with the last thing he saw being his past self grinning as he watched bird Arthur trying to gain better control of his wings in flight.
That had been a happy day, Merlin remembered fondly. It had been days like those that now made him yearn for Camelot. But those days were long gone - centuries had past since King Arthur’s time.
With a long sigh, Merlin mentally spoke the spell to return to his current time period - where he was a dog and Arthur was a human…and where Arthur’s long ago musings of the two of them being dogs together didn’t quite work out. Merlin was glad to have Guinevere, Knight -- or Lancelot as his true name was -- and Leon to help fill that void.
~ * ~
Living to Death: Part 2a | Living to Death: Part 2b