Fic: The Heart of King Arthur (4/?)
Masterpost: Here
It was near sunrise when Morgana was aware of two new people at Arthur’s house. She woke up, leaving Arthur still in a deep slumber. They had both slept on the same bed, as it was big enough, and Arthur had thought it was dumb of them to sleep separately. They had had a child together after all. They never married, true, but still the point remained. Morgana acquiesced, deciding anyway that it was best in these circumstances where Arthur needed to be watched over closely.
She could hardly sleep as she observed Arthur’s chest rise and fall, his breath evening out as he fell asleep. She had settled into a spot beside him, and she shifted so that her ear could hear the soothing steady beat of his heart. Arthur had put his arm around her, his eyes closed, so he was doing it by feel alone.
Morgana again wondered if it had been a good decision not to inform Arthur that this would be the last time they would ever see each other. For a good while at least. She had refrained from telling him that Kahlan would succeed her in a few days’ time. That Morgana would give up her immortality before their daughter would rule Avalon.
Morgana would die, of course, as a result - the energy from her immortality being given back to the land of Avalon as was her wish. The true beauty of the world was the nature surrounding them. She wanted to give it continued life so that future generations of Avalon would enjoy the natural beauty around them. She had made sure to take her father’s advice to heart, to remember where their magic, their immortality came from. They were gifts from nature.
She did not even know if she would be reincarnated. But she had lived such a long life that this chance to have her final rest was very welcome. With what Arthur had to deal with now, Morgana hadn’t wanted to give him more to worry about.
And so, she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised at her emotions getting the best of her when her gaze fell upon her father and son-in-law in the living room downstairs.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Merlin murmured.
He stood up and went to hug her.
“I couldn’t tell him. I don’t know if this was a good idea,” she admitted.
She swiped at her eyes, trying to stop her tears from flowing.
“At least you were able to see him before you go,” her father reminded her. “Focus on that, all right? And I’ll make sure he’ll still be alive when this mess with Kilgharrah is over with.”
He led her over to the couch. She sat beside him, Merlin’s arm around her and Morgana had her head on his shoulder. She felt so tired, the knowledge of what lay in her near future weighing heavy on her heart. It would be release, to be sure, but she would still leave those she dearly loved behind. It was certainly not an easy thing to do.
“Should we be worried?” Her son-in-law, Richard, spoke up.
Merlin looked affronted. He turned to him. “Oi! I’ll have you know that I have plenty tricks up my sleeve.”
Morgana raised her head and looked at him. “I have faith in you,” she said honestly.
“Thank you,” her father said gratefully.
But Morgana wasn’t finished.
“…except, you do sometimes go too far. You can not deny that. Promise me you will look after yourself as well? I want you to live through this too,” she said with feeling.
“I’m immortal, Morgana. I’ll be fine,” Merlin assured her.
“Considering I’m giving up my immortality very soon, that doesn’t sound reassuring,” Morgana noted.
“You are just as important as the Once and Future King. Kahlan would be sad to lose you. She’s told me so,” Richard informed him.
“Why are you both thinking I’m going to die?” Merlin said, exasperated.
“Your self-sacrificial tendencies?” Morgana offered. Her son-in-law nodded in agreement.
Merlin rubbed his forehead. “I shouldn’t have even asked,” he muttered, not denying or confirming his daughter’s words.
“So what information have you gained?” Morgana inquired.
“I found out that Arthur’s father, Uther, is behind this debacle. Arthur is most likely unaware of his father’s existence in this life. I would assume his mother told him that his father died before he was born or some such similar story. To spare him the pain of the true story. That Uther was still alive and just as unpleasant a person as he was in the days of Camelot.”
“Why ever would Uther be behind this?” Morgana wondered. “Does he know of the connection between Kilgharrah and his son?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He has no love for Arthur from what I’ve learned. He believes that I poisoned Arthur with ideas that magic is a good thing, which makes him a lost cause in Uther’s eyes.”
“How does he know though? Uther died before he ever met you.”
Merlin rubbed his forehead, his brow knitted with ill ease. “Mordred,” He answered, sounding quite frustrated about that development. “Uther, who remembers his past life unfortunately, found a way to bring him back to life. And Mordred has most likely informed him of the influence I had on Arthur after his father’s death. So, Uther is not too fond of me either, as you can imagine. I think he wants to draw me out by taking Kilgharrah…knowing that I’ll be forced to show my hand.”
“Arthur believed that someone could have the impetus to bring Mordred back to life. And he was right.”
“Yes he was,” Merlin confirmed unhappily. “For a man who hates magic, Uther definitely delved into heavy dark magic to resurrect Mordred.”
“He was always a nuisance,” Morgana remarked in frustration.
“I don’t look forward to dealing with him, but it looks like I will have to,” Merlin said. He shook his head then. “Anyway, enough of that sour stuff. How was your meeting with Arthur? Did you tell him about your mother?”
“Oh goodness no. I’m leaving that to you. Arthur was never comfortable around her,” Morgana remembered.
“Hmmm,” Merlin mused. “Maybe it’s best if I don’t tell him. It wouldn’t help the situation if Arthur knew that Nimue was still alive.”
“Shouldn’t he know that Nimue is immortal?” Richard wondered.
Morgana let out a laugh. “Actually, I think Arthur tries not to dwell on it. He’s probably intentionally forgotten. Mother was never too happy with his affection for you, Father.”
“-and that is exactly why this is best kept secret, Richard,” Merlin told him, wagging his finger at him.
“I won’t get the chance to tell him either way, but I won’t say a word,” Richard promised.
He pretended to zip his lips shut and throw away the invisible key over his right shoulder.
“Perfect. I doubt Arthur wants to know about the little row I had with Nimue about the color of the curtains. Or how I had to sit and listen to her talk about how positive she was that she was getting wrinkles. And that’s impossible because she has never aged, neither have I, in centuries. And then, then, it devolved into her believing I’ve taken on a lover! That she’s not good enough for me anymore. Can you believe that?”
“Mother told me that she wants a son,” Morgana said. She looked intrigued at the news. “After Viviane gave up her immortality, returning the energy to the Lake she so loved, as well as my leaving soon…”
“Yes, I know,” Merlin cut in with a groan.
“You would think after Mordred…” Richard pointed out.
“Ah, but she had him with another man,” Merlin countered. “That egotistical wretch, Alvarr. She wants a son with me. Then this way, she could have a good son. Since we all know how pleasant Mordred turned out to be,” Merlin remarked sarcastically.
Morgana told him, “She told me that she wished for a boy with hair as black as the midnight sky, skin as white as the palest rose, and eyes as dark as an obsidian stone…”
“Everyone will believe the child to be a demon,” Merlin pointed out, and Morgana realized he had a point what with the dark eyes. “Your mother, really. Sometimes…” He sighed, shaking his head.
“She’s never without ideas,” Morgana said with a small smile.
“I did tell her I doubted I could have any more children. I don’t think she believed me,” Merlin told them sadly. “But enough of that, I think it’s time you returned to Avalon with Richard. I trust your talk with Arthur went well despite what you couldn’t tell him?” He asked her.
Morgana nodded quickly. “Yes, it went as well as you can imagine. I’m glad I was able to see him again.”
Merlin exchanged knowing glances with Richard.
“Oh, very well,” Morgana confessed resignedly. “But we didn’t argue that much. Honestly, it is not my fault Arthur could be such a child sometimes.”
Merlin looked amused.
Soon after, Morgana and Richard made ready to leave. They said their goodbyes to Merlin, who would stay behind. Merlin kissed his daughter on the head, hugging her tightly and reassuring her once again.
As the pair walked to the door, Morgana remarked how strange it was to see Richard without his sword at his hip. Richard told her that he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself.
It was important, after all, when visiting the world outside of Avalon to blend in with others.
Merlin watched them leave, exiting through the front door. He heard Richard telling his daughter about his trip to Stonehenge and how he could feel the magic even if he couldn’t see it. Then they had left the house, closing the door behind them.
~ * ~
Arthur woke up to the sound of yelling coming from downstairs. He thought it was Merlin, but what he was shouting sounded rather odd for him. And the yelling was directed at someone else. Doing a quick check, he realized that Morgana had left his room.
He put on a red shirt and pants, and quickly made his way down the hall.
He heard Merlin yell, “I killed you! You shouldn’t even be here! I want you to leave now,” Merlin finished in an angry hiss.
Arthur could not see either Merlin or the person he was talking to from his vantage point. And he could not catch the other person’s response, but by the sound of the stranger’s voice, she was certainly a female. She was speaking in a different language, which sounded akin to the one Merlin used for his spells.
Arthur could never figure out the strange language - Merlin had always called it, ‘The Old Tongue’ (Arthur had once asked Merlin if he could see the ‘the old tongue’ taking the words literally. Merlin had looked at him, confused, but then he realized the joke and started laughing, Arthur joining in.). He noticed that Merlin switched to the same language the woman was using, both their voices low now. Like they had realized that they could be overheard and resorted to heated whispers as a result.
Unsure what to do, and feeling reasonably alarmed that Merlin was admitting to murdering someone, Arthur just waited. He sat down on the floor at the second floor landing, his back against the wall and his knees drawn up. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the door opposite him, almost hypnotized by the smooth grains of dark wood.
Arthur rubbed his face wearily. He wasn’t sure how to take Merlin’s unexpected declaration.
It had grown quieter. Arthur could only assume that the conversation had now
finished. Deciding that he had wasted enough time sitting here, Arthur headed down the stairs.
Merlin was alone, and whoever had been there had clearly left. He could see Merlin’s eyes glowing golden as he concentrated on his spell.
His long ago mentor looked the same as always. He could have been mistaken for a student at uni. His clothing fit with the present time, which was a stark difference from what Morgana had donned - looking like she had dressed up for a Renaissance Faire. Well, at least she had a mobile. Maybe she hadn’t felt like putting on a more time-appropriate outfit?
But Merlin was wearing a white shirt with a picture of a knight on his steed, sword at the ready and the black horse pulled back so that it was standing on its hind legs. And he was wearing denim and black Converse trainers. For a man who had lived for as many centuries as he had, Merlin appeared to do a decent job of being aware of the changing times, and adjusting accordingly. Arthur guessed that Merlin was used to the routine by now.
Arthur had to admit it was jarring to see Merlin still so young. It wasn’t any easier the second time around. He remembered feeling the same way when he first started showing (and feeling) signs of age during the days of Camelot. And the man who had mentored him, the immortal Dragonlord, looked like Arthur should be advising him. Only the knowledge of how many years Merlin had lived, and his having two grown daughters and one granddaughter, proved the immortal man’s age.
And here Merlin now was, still in his twenties to the naked eye, while Arthur was approaching his thirties (though Arthur personally thought he looked younger than he truly was, let anyone prove him wrong).
Arthur recalled Merlin telling him that he had been granted immortality at the age of twenty-five, and that it was meant as a gift. Merlin had found it a curse, but it had been forced upon him, living forever and being eternally twenty-five, and he could do nothing about it.
But Merlin never went into great detail about why he had been gifted immortality. He’d only said bitterly, “It had to do with some ridiculous prophecy meant to ruin my life.” Then Merlin had stared at Arthur as if shocked to see him there, and he declined to go into the matter further. When Arthur asked him about it again, Merlin pretended not to hear him and said that he had to see Nimue about some spell or something… so Arthur hadn’t pursued it because he could only take an obvious evasion for so long.
When the Dragonlord had finished his spell, his eyes now closed, and his hands loose at his sides, Arthur spoke. “Merlin?” He asked.
Merlin opened his eyes, back to blue now, and he turned to face Arthur.
Arthur could not miss the frustration in the dark-haired man’s expression.
But his smile toward Arthur was genuine. “Arthur, you’re alive.”
“Yeah, still alive and kicking. Morgana came and told me about the situation. Did she leave?”
Merlin nodded. “Yes, she had to return to Avalon… I-you didn’t happen to hear anything, did you?”
“What - you yelling at someone? Admitting to murder?” Arthur ventured.
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Merlin said a little too calmly.
And Arthur wondered if Merlin would jump him any second, wielding a knife.
Remove the witness…wasn’t that how it always worked on cop shows?
“Who were you talking to? It sounded like a woman,” Arthur noted.
Merlin stepped forward, closing the distance between him and Arthur. He was half an arm’s length away.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Merlin assured him.
“It’s kind of hard to forget, Merlin,” Arthur pointed out to him.
“Arthur, it was nothing. It isn’t important.” Merlin sounded on the edge of exasperation now, but he was doing his best to hold it in.
Arthur stood his ground, but he allowed Merlin to lay a pale hand on his cheek.
“Arthur, just relax,” Merlin said softly.
Arthur knew what Merlin was going to do, but he couldn’t help staring at his glowing, pure gold, eyes as he moved to kiss Arthur, soft but sure, on the lips.
And Arthur couldn’t for the life of him remember what he was supposed to remember. He had forgotten something, hadn’t he?
Merlin smiled at him. He put his hands on either side of Arthur’s head, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Arthur had always felt like a child when Merlin had done that, but he figured that Merlin couldn’t help but still view him as that little boy, a great responsibility thrust on his small shoulders, he had first encountered centuries ago. Merlin must still think Arthur young considering how many years the immortal man had lived through. Arthur’s almost thirty years of life in this reincarnation surely paled in comparison.
“Feeling better?” Merlin asked him after he had pulled away.
Arthur gave him a sardonic look. “Really, Merlin? I don’t think I do. According to Morgana, any of you could have visited me during the near thirty years I’ve been alive…and yet, you choose to ‘monitor’ me like stalkers! I didn’t even know. And then, with Kilgharrah…nice work looking after him by the way,” Arthur shot back at him.
Merlin flinched. “Arthur,” he began softly.
“And I’m not an idiot,” Arthur continued on, not letting Merlin having a word in. “Nimue is still alive, right? Immortal? If she’s still around, then why bother seeing me, right? She’s all you need!”
“That’s enough!” Merlin shouted this time. His eyes flashed golden for a moment and Arthur, startled, stepped back.
“Arthur, I know how difficult it was for you, with how you felt for me, but please don’t bring Nimue into this.”
Arthur gave him a discerning look. “Fine,” he said flippantly, still feeling frustrated but letting it go for now. “I need to eat something,” he muttered.
Merlin looked at him uncertainly, biting his lip like he was debating telling Arthur something.
“All right,” Merlin agreed with him.
He followed him into the kitchen. Arthur prepared himself some eggs and sausages.
From his place at the stove, Arthur resisted a groan when Merlin took it upon himself to investigate his fridge.
“Orange juice?” Merlin inquired, waving said container in his hand.
“Yes,” Arthur said.
Arthur sighed as the orange juice container floated over to the table with barely a word from Merlin, the spell as natural to the immortal man as breathing.
Then Merlin became distracted by what else he found in the refrigerator. “Oh! Chocolate milk! That sounds nice.”
“Merlin…are you going to eat too?” Arthur asked, feeling like he was talking to a child.
“Well, I suppose so…I haven’t eaten in a bit…” Merlin trailed off and nearly exclaimed, “Vanilla yogurt! I think I’ll take that and the milk,” he said, more to himself, and he removed said contents from their respective shelves and then closing the fridge.
The yogurt container and milk floated over to the kitchen table as well.
Arthur stared at him. “Vanilla yogurt and chocolate milk? For breakfast?” He asked in disbelief.
Merlin tilted his head. A thoughtful look appeared on his face. “You don’t happen to have pineapple, do you?”
Arthur told him he didn’t.
And, of course, as a result, Merlin conjured himself an entire pineapple. From who knows where, Arthur did not want to know.
“Chocolate milk, vanilla yogurt, and pineapple…that should be good,” Merlin said confidently with a nod.
Arthur rolled his eyes. “You need bread or something, carbs.”
“Oh, right,” Merlin agreed.
Merlin was about to open the fridge, but then looked like he had been reminded of something. With a few words, a knife came out of the cutlery drawer and, animated, proceeded to slice the pineapple into pieces. A plate also set itself on the table for the pineapple slices.
Merlin smiled. Arthur managed to look nonchalant. It was just like Merlin to happily use his magic in such a way.
Merlin pulled out the bread. Arthur saw him frown at it.
“What? Something wrong with the bread?” Arthur asked as he finished scrambling the eggs.
“No, oh no,” Merlin said quickly.
Arthur shrugged and let it go.
When Arthur sat down at the table, plate full of scrambled eggs and sausage, he stared at the loaf of bread.
“Did you just color my bread in the colors of the rainbow?” Arthur asked him incredulously.
He was about to pour himself a glass of orange juice, but the carton shifted away from Arthur’s touch as if he were diseased. Resignedly, Arthur let the orange juice pour itself into his cup.
Merlin hummed at him. “Well, the bread looked dull all white like that. I wanted to make it more interesting.”
And Merlin went ahead and dipped a piece of rainbow bread into his bowl of vanilla yogurt. He took the dipped bread into his mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully. He already had a glass of chocolate milk before him, and the pineapple was all cut up, ready to eat.
“Still as half-mad as always, right?” Arthur concluded, shaking his head in bemusement.
“I don’t know. Do I seem that way to you?” Merlin asked, looking truly puzzled.
“If you weren’t before, surely all those centuries with Nimue has screwed a nut loose or two…” Arthur paused, checking himself. “Er, sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”
Merlin waved his hand. “Oh no, that’s all right. I know that you didn’t have the best relationship with her… I never did tell you why I stayed with her, did I?”
“You told me you stayed with her because she was the mother of your children. And that you honestly felt she cared about you despite your flaws. You never told me what exactly those flaws were, but--”
Merlin’s eyes darkened momentarily, so fleeting Arthur almost missed it.
Merlin remarked, “I didn’t tell you the whole story though… there’s more to it than that. Maybe you would understand…”
“Go on,” Arthur urged him. He tucked into his breakfast while Merlin adopted a pensive look as he decided where to start.
Merlin began, “When I was growing up, I had these two friends. I know what you’re going to think, so don’t even say a word - their names were Morgaine and Arthur. The three of us were close, our own little group.”
Arthur raised his brow. “Morgaine and Arthur?”
Merlin nodded. He rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture. “I named Morgana after Morgaine. Viviane was named for an old friend of Nimue’s. I did not miss the irony, Arthur, when you spent time with my daughter.”
“Oh, they married then?”
Merlin nodded. “Yes. They did. It’s funny how life works, isn’t it? One moment can change everything…Morgaine,” he stopped, letting out a small, tired sigh. “Morgaine was my first love, you see, but unfortunately, I suppose I was never meant for a normal life. And I had to accept that. My calling as a Dragonlord was my priority.”
“But how does Nimue come into this then?”
Merlin looked at Arthur carefully. “I always wondered if you were with Morgana simply because she was more…” He waved his hand, searching for the right word, “accessible? Because I turned you away? It would have been inappropriate, to be sure, and well, with my daughter as well…but,” he paused, unable to go on further. He gulped down some of his chocolate milk instead.
Arthur felt surprised at Merlin’s conclusions. Had it really seemed that way? That Morgana was just option two? While he had never purposefully thought about it, maybe, maybe…a small part of him had felt attracted to Morgana because he knew that whatever love he may have held for Merlin could only be openly accepted as fatherly love, nothing more.
But there was Morgana, Merlin’s daughter, who was his age and she looked pretty, which had been an added bonus. And though she was not nobility, at least to the non-magical community, Morgana had still been the daughter of the king’s advisor, which was good enough. Though it took some time for the people of Camelot to adjust to magic flourishing once again, there was still a certain prestige attached to being a Dragonlord. And everyone knew Merlin. His name was legend even by that time.
Arthur had been intrigued by Morgana, just her, and that had nothing to do with Merlin. Even if, yes, he had held feelings for his mentor, Arthur had resigned himself to not pursuing them. Morgana had challenged him, confused him, and half the time, irritated the hell out of him, but somehow, that’s what drew Arthur to her. She was interesting, exciting and different…
But now…in this new life of his, with Merlin (superficially at least) and him about the same age as one another, Arthur wondered if maybe they had a chance now? After this whole Dragon debacle had been handled? Even with Nimue still in the picture…
“Arthur?” Merlin spoke, his voice deceivingly light.
Arthur shook his head. “No, that’s not why I spent time with her. Believe me, I would not have spent time with her if I didn’t find Morgana enjoyable company… I truly did like her, still do. And I know I told you all of this before,” Arthur reminded him.
“Yes, of course. And I also recall telling you that my daughter confided in me that she believed you loved me more than you did her. Is that still true?”
“I-yes,” Arthur confessed wearily. Anything else would be a lie. “All right? Now will you just tell me how this all goes back to Nimue?”
Merlin’s blue eyes looked him over studiously and then he gave a curt nod. “Nimue is Morgaine’s daughter.”
“She was the daughter of your first love…” Arthur breathed out. Now, he understood what Merlin had meant by the comparison… Arthur going for the ‘easier’ choice like Merlin, unable to marry his first love, chose the next best option. This was the last thing Arthur had ever thought they would have in common.
“Yes, we had lived separate lives for many years before we decided to be together. Nimue and I had been married for only a few decades before I first met you in the late fifth century. Oh, has it really been that long?” He mused distractedly, his lips twisting into a nostalgic smile. Merlin continued on, “I had found out that she had been gifted immortality for saving the lives of one family.”
“And what family might that be?”
Merlin gave him a pointed look. “Your ancestors, Arthur. On your mother’s side.”
“…and yet she dreamed of sacrificing me to the Old Religion?” He asked him in sheer disbelief.
Merlin chuckled softly then. “She was doing that to scare you. I thought you knew that?”
“Merlin, Nimue can do magic. That is enough to keep me on guard. I’m telling you, she is too fond of playing the role of ‘dark sorceress.’ She’s crazy, that’s all there is to it.”
Merlin gave a long sigh. “I am truly sorry I did not see you before. I didn’t want to interfere in your current life. I feel so old, Arthur. I am old, and I have to move on…I performed my duty to mentor you when you were King of Camelot. After that, my duties shifted to Avalon and my continued duty of looking after Kilgharrah. I hope that you could forgive me, but I thought it best to leave you to live your life in peace.”
Arthur leaned forward, and Merlin looked at him questioningly, before Arthur kissed him on the lips.
“I want you to stay,” he asked of him.
Merlin let out a shuddering sigh, pulling away from him. “Arthur, please don’t say that.”
“Merlin?” Arthur said, puzzled.
But Merlin did not answer him, a faraway look in his eyes like he was remembering a long ago memory…
“Merlin, did you hear me?” Arthur said worriedly.
Merlin shook himself, and finally his gaze settled on Arthur. “Sorry, I was somewhere else,” he said apologetically. “Arthur, you know that I have no place in your life now.”
“Yes, Morgana said the same thing. But I want you to be a part of my life, Merlin. I am asking you to. Please,” Arthur nearly pleaded with him.
“No, I can not,” Merlin told him firmly. He took a pineapple slice and ate it, his eyes directed at the table.
“Merlin…” Arthur started.
The Dragonlord gave him a stern look, forcing Arthur to back down. Sometimes, Merlin looked at him with this thundering look, a look that proved Arthur more than anything that Merlin held great power in his hands and it was not wise to test him.
Merlin shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a red wooden dragon ornament.
Arthur watched as the other man laid a gentle kiss upon the dragon ornament before setting it on the table.
But before Merlin could speak, Arthur interrupted him, needing to know, “Merlin, just tell me now. Do you love me? I know you said you did when I was dying at Camlann, but that was an exception, I’m guessing. It wouldn’t seem right to say, “I love you, but you know, not in that way” to someone who’s near death before you,” he mused.
“I do care about you, Arthur,” Merlin asserted, even though it sounded hollow to Arthur’s ears. Care was the easier, less weighty word to use. “And you yourself have said that one can love more than one person, right?”
“That’s your answer,” Arthur said flatly.
Merlin inclined his head soberly. “You do not know me, Arthur. I regret there are some things I have refrained from telling you. I admit I do not tell them to others freely. Nimue knows because she is the daughter of a childhood friend, and I could not hide anything from her. And of course, Kilgharrah knows as well - a Dragonlord’s dragon knows all his human’s secrets.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “And Morgana and Viviane? Do they know?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, they don’t,” he said a bit regretfully. “If you truly knew me, I have doubts that your feelings would remain the same,” Merlin said simply.
Feeling unease and an irresistible curiosity settle within him, Arthur sought to question him further. But Merlin held up a hand stopping him. He gestured to the red dragon ornament then.
“If this dragon turns black, then there’s a very good chance you’ll be dead soon.”
“Could you put it any more bluntly?” Arthur told him, rolling his eyes. He nodded at Merlin. “What then? Is it like a magically-enhanced dragon tracker then?”
“No, not exactly. I did magically enhance it, but it only tells me if the dragon is alive and well. That Kilgharrah has not suffered a fatal wound. I am unable to track him because I’m being prevented from doing so,” Merlin explained, looking quite irritated at that.
“Did you make the dragon ornament?” Arthur asked him.
240 AD
“But I’m not abandoning you now,” Morgaine said fiercely, her green eyes bright.
“Children of Dragonlords, we stay together,” she said lightly, smiling at him.
Merlin returned the smile. She kissed him softly on the forehead. Tendrils of her red hair touched his cheeks, almost tickling them.
Morgaine took out a small carved wooden dragon, painted red, then and offered it to him.
“My father always bemoaned having me instead of a son to pass his talent down to,” she told him. Merlin gave her a consoling smile, knowing this quite well. The two of them had grown up together after all.
“I think that this would mean more to you than to me,” she said as he took the carved dragon from her. “When a dragon chooses you, you could use this as a good luck charm. So that your bond with your dragon will be strong and true.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. You’re too good to me,” he told her sincerely. “Tell Arthur that I wish him well, that I wish the both of you well.”
“And the little ones?” she reminded him gently.
Merlin nodded. “Yes, them as well. How many are there now?” He teased lightly.
She looked exasperated, ready to hit him. But in the end, she didn’t. “Three. I despair of having no girl yet,” she said with a sigh.
“I’m sure you will one day,” he assured her. Merlin gave her a serious look. “What about you? If helping me puts you in harm’s way…” he started worriedly.
Morgaine shook her head, a firm, reassuring smile on her lips. “Don’t you worry about me. I will be all right. Arthur will take care of me. You only need to focus on keeping yourself out of danger, okay? I want you to do that for me.” She asked of him.
Merlin shook his head. “It was originally a gift from Morgaine. She gave it to me when I was twenty-five. I took great care in maintaining its appearance over the centuries…”
Arthur sighed. Of course, it would be from her. That was why Merlin had kissed the dragon earlier. He knew it was childish to feel jealous…Merlin had lived a long time after all. It was ridiculous to think that he, Arthur, would be the first to fancy the man. Or that Merlin’s heart didn’t still ache for a long lost love. With all the people Merlin was sure to have met and loved over all those years, Arthur’s love life was a cake walk by comparison.
Though, he had to admit that it still hurt a bit.
Part 5
It was near sunrise when Morgana was aware of two new people at Arthur’s house. She woke up, leaving Arthur still in a deep slumber. They had both slept on the same bed, as it was big enough, and Arthur had thought it was dumb of them to sleep separately. They had had a child together after all. They never married, true, but still the point remained. Morgana acquiesced, deciding anyway that it was best in these circumstances where Arthur needed to be watched over closely.
She could hardly sleep as she observed Arthur’s chest rise and fall, his breath evening out as he fell asleep. She had settled into a spot beside him, and she shifted so that her ear could hear the soothing steady beat of his heart. Arthur had put his arm around her, his eyes closed, so he was doing it by feel alone.
Morgana again wondered if it had been a good decision not to inform Arthur that this would be the last time they would ever see each other. For a good while at least. She had refrained from telling him that Kahlan would succeed her in a few days’ time. That Morgana would give up her immortality before their daughter would rule Avalon.
Morgana would die, of course, as a result - the energy from her immortality being given back to the land of Avalon as was her wish. The true beauty of the world was the nature surrounding them. She wanted to give it continued life so that future generations of Avalon would enjoy the natural beauty around them. She had made sure to take her father’s advice to heart, to remember where their magic, their immortality came from. They were gifts from nature.
She did not even know if she would be reincarnated. But she had lived such a long life that this chance to have her final rest was very welcome. With what Arthur had to deal with now, Morgana hadn’t wanted to give him more to worry about.
And so, she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised at her emotions getting the best of her when her gaze fell upon her father and son-in-law in the living room downstairs.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Merlin murmured.
He stood up and went to hug her.
“I couldn’t tell him. I don’t know if this was a good idea,” she admitted.
She swiped at her eyes, trying to stop her tears from flowing.
“At least you were able to see him before you go,” her father reminded her. “Focus on that, all right? And I’ll make sure he’ll still be alive when this mess with Kilgharrah is over with.”
He led her over to the couch. She sat beside him, Merlin’s arm around her and Morgana had her head on his shoulder. She felt so tired, the knowledge of what lay in her near future weighing heavy on her heart. It would be release, to be sure, but she would still leave those she dearly loved behind. It was certainly not an easy thing to do.
“Should we be worried?” Her son-in-law, Richard, spoke up.
Merlin looked affronted. He turned to him. “Oi! I’ll have you know that I have plenty tricks up my sleeve.”
Morgana raised her head and looked at him. “I have faith in you,” she said honestly.
“Thank you,” her father said gratefully.
But Morgana wasn’t finished.
“…except, you do sometimes go too far. You can not deny that. Promise me you will look after yourself as well? I want you to live through this too,” she said with feeling.
“I’m immortal, Morgana. I’ll be fine,” Merlin assured her.
“Considering I’m giving up my immortality very soon, that doesn’t sound reassuring,” Morgana noted.
“You are just as important as the Once and Future King. Kahlan would be sad to lose you. She’s told me so,” Richard informed him.
“Why are you both thinking I’m going to die?” Merlin said, exasperated.
“Your self-sacrificial tendencies?” Morgana offered. Her son-in-law nodded in agreement.
Merlin rubbed his forehead. “I shouldn’t have even asked,” he muttered, not denying or confirming his daughter’s words.
“So what information have you gained?” Morgana inquired.
“I found out that Arthur’s father, Uther, is behind this debacle. Arthur is most likely unaware of his father’s existence in this life. I would assume his mother told him that his father died before he was born or some such similar story. To spare him the pain of the true story. That Uther was still alive and just as unpleasant a person as he was in the days of Camelot.”
“Why ever would Uther be behind this?” Morgana wondered. “Does he know of the connection between Kilgharrah and his son?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He has no love for Arthur from what I’ve learned. He believes that I poisoned Arthur with ideas that magic is a good thing, which makes him a lost cause in Uther’s eyes.”
“How does he know though? Uther died before he ever met you.”
Merlin rubbed his forehead, his brow knitted with ill ease. “Mordred,” He answered, sounding quite frustrated about that development. “Uther, who remembers his past life unfortunately, found a way to bring him back to life. And Mordred has most likely informed him of the influence I had on Arthur after his father’s death. So, Uther is not too fond of me either, as you can imagine. I think he wants to draw me out by taking Kilgharrah…knowing that I’ll be forced to show my hand.”
“Arthur believed that someone could have the impetus to bring Mordred back to life. And he was right.”
“Yes he was,” Merlin confirmed unhappily. “For a man who hates magic, Uther definitely delved into heavy dark magic to resurrect Mordred.”
“He was always a nuisance,” Morgana remarked in frustration.
“I don’t look forward to dealing with him, but it looks like I will have to,” Merlin said. He shook his head then. “Anyway, enough of that sour stuff. How was your meeting with Arthur? Did you tell him about your mother?”
“Oh goodness no. I’m leaving that to you. Arthur was never comfortable around her,” Morgana remembered.
“Hmmm,” Merlin mused. “Maybe it’s best if I don’t tell him. It wouldn’t help the situation if Arthur knew that Nimue was still alive.”
“Shouldn’t he know that Nimue is immortal?” Richard wondered.
Morgana let out a laugh. “Actually, I think Arthur tries not to dwell on it. He’s probably intentionally forgotten. Mother was never too happy with his affection for you, Father.”
“-and that is exactly why this is best kept secret, Richard,” Merlin told him, wagging his finger at him.
“I won’t get the chance to tell him either way, but I won’t say a word,” Richard promised.
He pretended to zip his lips shut and throw away the invisible key over his right shoulder.
“Perfect. I doubt Arthur wants to know about the little row I had with Nimue about the color of the curtains. Or how I had to sit and listen to her talk about how positive she was that she was getting wrinkles. And that’s impossible because she has never aged, neither have I, in centuries. And then, then, it devolved into her believing I’ve taken on a lover! That she’s not good enough for me anymore. Can you believe that?”
“Mother told me that she wants a son,” Morgana said. She looked intrigued at the news. “After Viviane gave up her immortality, returning the energy to the Lake she so loved, as well as my leaving soon…”
“Yes, I know,” Merlin cut in with a groan.
“You would think after Mordred…” Richard pointed out.
“Ah, but she had him with another man,” Merlin countered. “That egotistical wretch, Alvarr. She wants a son with me. Then this way, she could have a good son. Since we all know how pleasant Mordred turned out to be,” Merlin remarked sarcastically.
Morgana told him, “She told me that she wished for a boy with hair as black as the midnight sky, skin as white as the palest rose, and eyes as dark as an obsidian stone…”
“Everyone will believe the child to be a demon,” Merlin pointed out, and Morgana realized he had a point what with the dark eyes. “Your mother, really. Sometimes…” He sighed, shaking his head.
“She’s never without ideas,” Morgana said with a small smile.
“I did tell her I doubted I could have any more children. I don’t think she believed me,” Merlin told them sadly. “But enough of that, I think it’s time you returned to Avalon with Richard. I trust your talk with Arthur went well despite what you couldn’t tell him?” He asked her.
Morgana nodded quickly. “Yes, it went as well as you can imagine. I’m glad I was able to see him again.”
Merlin exchanged knowing glances with Richard.
“Oh, very well,” Morgana confessed resignedly. “But we didn’t argue that much. Honestly, it is not my fault Arthur could be such a child sometimes.”
Merlin looked amused.
Soon after, Morgana and Richard made ready to leave. They said their goodbyes to Merlin, who would stay behind. Merlin kissed his daughter on the head, hugging her tightly and reassuring her once again.
As the pair walked to the door, Morgana remarked how strange it was to see Richard without his sword at his hip. Richard told her that he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself.
It was important, after all, when visiting the world outside of Avalon to blend in with others.
Merlin watched them leave, exiting through the front door. He heard Richard telling his daughter about his trip to Stonehenge and how he could feel the magic even if he couldn’t see it. Then they had left the house, closing the door behind them.
~ * ~
Arthur woke up to the sound of yelling coming from downstairs. He thought it was Merlin, but what he was shouting sounded rather odd for him. And the yelling was directed at someone else. Doing a quick check, he realized that Morgana had left his room.
He put on a red shirt and pants, and quickly made his way down the hall.
He heard Merlin yell, “I killed you! You shouldn’t even be here! I want you to leave now,” Merlin finished in an angry hiss.
Arthur could not see either Merlin or the person he was talking to from his vantage point. And he could not catch the other person’s response, but by the sound of the stranger’s voice, she was certainly a female. She was speaking in a different language, which sounded akin to the one Merlin used for his spells.
Arthur could never figure out the strange language - Merlin had always called it, ‘The Old Tongue’ (Arthur had once asked Merlin if he could see the ‘the old tongue’ taking the words literally. Merlin had looked at him, confused, but then he realized the joke and started laughing, Arthur joining in.). He noticed that Merlin switched to the same language the woman was using, both their voices low now. Like they had realized that they could be overheard and resorted to heated whispers as a result.
Unsure what to do, and feeling reasonably alarmed that Merlin was admitting to murdering someone, Arthur just waited. He sat down on the floor at the second floor landing, his back against the wall and his knees drawn up. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the door opposite him, almost hypnotized by the smooth grains of dark wood.
Arthur rubbed his face wearily. He wasn’t sure how to take Merlin’s unexpected declaration.
It had grown quieter. Arthur could only assume that the conversation had now
finished. Deciding that he had wasted enough time sitting here, Arthur headed down the stairs.
Merlin was alone, and whoever had been there had clearly left. He could see Merlin’s eyes glowing golden as he concentrated on his spell.
His long ago mentor looked the same as always. He could have been mistaken for a student at uni. His clothing fit with the present time, which was a stark difference from what Morgana had donned - looking like she had dressed up for a Renaissance Faire. Well, at least she had a mobile. Maybe she hadn’t felt like putting on a more time-appropriate outfit?
But Merlin was wearing a white shirt with a picture of a knight on his steed, sword at the ready and the black horse pulled back so that it was standing on its hind legs. And he was wearing denim and black Converse trainers. For a man who had lived for as many centuries as he had, Merlin appeared to do a decent job of being aware of the changing times, and adjusting accordingly. Arthur guessed that Merlin was used to the routine by now.
Arthur had to admit it was jarring to see Merlin still so young. It wasn’t any easier the second time around. He remembered feeling the same way when he first started showing (and feeling) signs of age during the days of Camelot. And the man who had mentored him, the immortal Dragonlord, looked like Arthur should be advising him. Only the knowledge of how many years Merlin had lived, and his having two grown daughters and one granddaughter, proved the immortal man’s age.
And here Merlin now was, still in his twenties to the naked eye, while Arthur was approaching his thirties (though Arthur personally thought he looked younger than he truly was, let anyone prove him wrong).
Arthur recalled Merlin telling him that he had been granted immortality at the age of twenty-five, and that it was meant as a gift. Merlin had found it a curse, but it had been forced upon him, living forever and being eternally twenty-five, and he could do nothing about it.
But Merlin never went into great detail about why he had been gifted immortality. He’d only said bitterly, “It had to do with some ridiculous prophecy meant to ruin my life.” Then Merlin had stared at Arthur as if shocked to see him there, and he declined to go into the matter further. When Arthur asked him about it again, Merlin pretended not to hear him and said that he had to see Nimue about some spell or something… so Arthur hadn’t pursued it because he could only take an obvious evasion for so long.
When the Dragonlord had finished his spell, his eyes now closed, and his hands loose at his sides, Arthur spoke. “Merlin?” He asked.
Merlin opened his eyes, back to blue now, and he turned to face Arthur.
Arthur could not miss the frustration in the dark-haired man’s expression.
But his smile toward Arthur was genuine. “Arthur, you’re alive.”
“Yeah, still alive and kicking. Morgana came and told me about the situation. Did she leave?”
Merlin nodded. “Yes, she had to return to Avalon… I-you didn’t happen to hear anything, did you?”
“What - you yelling at someone? Admitting to murder?” Arthur ventured.
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Merlin said a little too calmly.
And Arthur wondered if Merlin would jump him any second, wielding a knife.
Remove the witness…wasn’t that how it always worked on cop shows?
“Who were you talking to? It sounded like a woman,” Arthur noted.
Merlin stepped forward, closing the distance between him and Arthur. He was half an arm’s length away.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Merlin assured him.
“It’s kind of hard to forget, Merlin,” Arthur pointed out to him.
“Arthur, it was nothing. It isn’t important.” Merlin sounded on the edge of exasperation now, but he was doing his best to hold it in.
Arthur stood his ground, but he allowed Merlin to lay a pale hand on his cheek.
“Arthur, just relax,” Merlin said softly.
Arthur knew what Merlin was going to do, but he couldn’t help staring at his glowing, pure gold, eyes as he moved to kiss Arthur, soft but sure, on the lips.
And Arthur couldn’t for the life of him remember what he was supposed to remember. He had forgotten something, hadn’t he?
Merlin smiled at him. He put his hands on either side of Arthur’s head, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Arthur had always felt like a child when Merlin had done that, but he figured that Merlin couldn’t help but still view him as that little boy, a great responsibility thrust on his small shoulders, he had first encountered centuries ago. Merlin must still think Arthur young considering how many years the immortal man had lived through. Arthur’s almost thirty years of life in this reincarnation surely paled in comparison.
“Feeling better?” Merlin asked him after he had pulled away.
Arthur gave him a sardonic look. “Really, Merlin? I don’t think I do. According to Morgana, any of you could have visited me during the near thirty years I’ve been alive…and yet, you choose to ‘monitor’ me like stalkers! I didn’t even know. And then, with Kilgharrah…nice work looking after him by the way,” Arthur shot back at him.
Merlin flinched. “Arthur,” he began softly.
“And I’m not an idiot,” Arthur continued on, not letting Merlin having a word in. “Nimue is still alive, right? Immortal? If she’s still around, then why bother seeing me, right? She’s all you need!”
“That’s enough!” Merlin shouted this time. His eyes flashed golden for a moment and Arthur, startled, stepped back.
“Arthur, I know how difficult it was for you, with how you felt for me, but please don’t bring Nimue into this.”
Arthur gave him a discerning look. “Fine,” he said flippantly, still feeling frustrated but letting it go for now. “I need to eat something,” he muttered.
Merlin looked at him uncertainly, biting his lip like he was debating telling Arthur something.
“All right,” Merlin agreed with him.
He followed him into the kitchen. Arthur prepared himself some eggs and sausages.
From his place at the stove, Arthur resisted a groan when Merlin took it upon himself to investigate his fridge.
“Orange juice?” Merlin inquired, waving said container in his hand.
“Yes,” Arthur said.
Arthur sighed as the orange juice container floated over to the table with barely a word from Merlin, the spell as natural to the immortal man as breathing.
Then Merlin became distracted by what else he found in the refrigerator. “Oh! Chocolate milk! That sounds nice.”
“Merlin…are you going to eat too?” Arthur asked, feeling like he was talking to a child.
“Well, I suppose so…I haven’t eaten in a bit…” Merlin trailed off and nearly exclaimed, “Vanilla yogurt! I think I’ll take that and the milk,” he said, more to himself, and he removed said contents from their respective shelves and then closing the fridge.
The yogurt container and milk floated over to the kitchen table as well.
Arthur stared at him. “Vanilla yogurt and chocolate milk? For breakfast?” He asked in disbelief.
Merlin tilted his head. A thoughtful look appeared on his face. “You don’t happen to have pineapple, do you?”
Arthur told him he didn’t.
And, of course, as a result, Merlin conjured himself an entire pineapple. From who knows where, Arthur did not want to know.
“Chocolate milk, vanilla yogurt, and pineapple…that should be good,” Merlin said confidently with a nod.
Arthur rolled his eyes. “You need bread or something, carbs.”
“Oh, right,” Merlin agreed.
Merlin was about to open the fridge, but then looked like he had been reminded of something. With a few words, a knife came out of the cutlery drawer and, animated, proceeded to slice the pineapple into pieces. A plate also set itself on the table for the pineapple slices.
Merlin smiled. Arthur managed to look nonchalant. It was just like Merlin to happily use his magic in such a way.
Merlin pulled out the bread. Arthur saw him frown at it.
“What? Something wrong with the bread?” Arthur asked as he finished scrambling the eggs.
“No, oh no,” Merlin said quickly.
Arthur shrugged and let it go.
When Arthur sat down at the table, plate full of scrambled eggs and sausage, he stared at the loaf of bread.
“Did you just color my bread in the colors of the rainbow?” Arthur asked him incredulously.
He was about to pour himself a glass of orange juice, but the carton shifted away from Arthur’s touch as if he were diseased. Resignedly, Arthur let the orange juice pour itself into his cup.
Merlin hummed at him. “Well, the bread looked dull all white like that. I wanted to make it more interesting.”
And Merlin went ahead and dipped a piece of rainbow bread into his bowl of vanilla yogurt. He took the dipped bread into his mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully. He already had a glass of chocolate milk before him, and the pineapple was all cut up, ready to eat.
“Still as half-mad as always, right?” Arthur concluded, shaking his head in bemusement.
“I don’t know. Do I seem that way to you?” Merlin asked, looking truly puzzled.
“If you weren’t before, surely all those centuries with Nimue has screwed a nut loose or two…” Arthur paused, checking himself. “Er, sorry. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”
Merlin waved his hand. “Oh no, that’s all right. I know that you didn’t have the best relationship with her… I never did tell you why I stayed with her, did I?”
“You told me you stayed with her because she was the mother of your children. And that you honestly felt she cared about you despite your flaws. You never told me what exactly those flaws were, but--”
Merlin’s eyes darkened momentarily, so fleeting Arthur almost missed it.
Merlin remarked, “I didn’t tell you the whole story though… there’s more to it than that. Maybe you would understand…”
“Go on,” Arthur urged him. He tucked into his breakfast while Merlin adopted a pensive look as he decided where to start.
Merlin began, “When I was growing up, I had these two friends. I know what you’re going to think, so don’t even say a word - their names were Morgaine and Arthur. The three of us were close, our own little group.”
Arthur raised his brow. “Morgaine and Arthur?”
Merlin nodded. He rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture. “I named Morgana after Morgaine. Viviane was named for an old friend of Nimue’s. I did not miss the irony, Arthur, when you spent time with my daughter.”
“Oh, they married then?”
Merlin nodded. “Yes. They did. It’s funny how life works, isn’t it? One moment can change everything…Morgaine,” he stopped, letting out a small, tired sigh. “Morgaine was my first love, you see, but unfortunately, I suppose I was never meant for a normal life. And I had to accept that. My calling as a Dragonlord was my priority.”
“But how does Nimue come into this then?”
Merlin looked at Arthur carefully. “I always wondered if you were with Morgana simply because she was more…” He waved his hand, searching for the right word, “accessible? Because I turned you away? It would have been inappropriate, to be sure, and well, with my daughter as well…but,” he paused, unable to go on further. He gulped down some of his chocolate milk instead.
Arthur felt surprised at Merlin’s conclusions. Had it really seemed that way? That Morgana was just option two? While he had never purposefully thought about it, maybe, maybe…a small part of him had felt attracted to Morgana because he knew that whatever love he may have held for Merlin could only be openly accepted as fatherly love, nothing more.
But there was Morgana, Merlin’s daughter, who was his age and she looked pretty, which had been an added bonus. And though she was not nobility, at least to the non-magical community, Morgana had still been the daughter of the king’s advisor, which was good enough. Though it took some time for the people of Camelot to adjust to magic flourishing once again, there was still a certain prestige attached to being a Dragonlord. And everyone knew Merlin. His name was legend even by that time.
Arthur had been intrigued by Morgana, just her, and that had nothing to do with Merlin. Even if, yes, he had held feelings for his mentor, Arthur had resigned himself to not pursuing them. Morgana had challenged him, confused him, and half the time, irritated the hell out of him, but somehow, that’s what drew Arthur to her. She was interesting, exciting and different…
But now…in this new life of his, with Merlin (superficially at least) and him about the same age as one another, Arthur wondered if maybe they had a chance now? After this whole Dragon debacle had been handled? Even with Nimue still in the picture…
“Arthur?” Merlin spoke, his voice deceivingly light.
Arthur shook his head. “No, that’s not why I spent time with her. Believe me, I would not have spent time with her if I didn’t find Morgana enjoyable company… I truly did like her, still do. And I know I told you all of this before,” Arthur reminded him.
“Yes, of course. And I also recall telling you that my daughter confided in me that she believed you loved me more than you did her. Is that still true?”
“I-yes,” Arthur confessed wearily. Anything else would be a lie. “All right? Now will you just tell me how this all goes back to Nimue?”
Merlin’s blue eyes looked him over studiously and then he gave a curt nod. “Nimue is Morgaine’s daughter.”
“She was the daughter of your first love…” Arthur breathed out. Now, he understood what Merlin had meant by the comparison… Arthur going for the ‘easier’ choice like Merlin, unable to marry his first love, chose the next best option. This was the last thing Arthur had ever thought they would have in common.
“Yes, we had lived separate lives for many years before we decided to be together. Nimue and I had been married for only a few decades before I first met you in the late fifth century. Oh, has it really been that long?” He mused distractedly, his lips twisting into a nostalgic smile. Merlin continued on, “I had found out that she had been gifted immortality for saving the lives of one family.”
“And what family might that be?”
Merlin gave him a pointed look. “Your ancestors, Arthur. On your mother’s side.”
“…and yet she dreamed of sacrificing me to the Old Religion?” He asked him in sheer disbelief.
Merlin chuckled softly then. “She was doing that to scare you. I thought you knew that?”
“Merlin, Nimue can do magic. That is enough to keep me on guard. I’m telling you, she is too fond of playing the role of ‘dark sorceress.’ She’s crazy, that’s all there is to it.”
Merlin gave a long sigh. “I am truly sorry I did not see you before. I didn’t want to interfere in your current life. I feel so old, Arthur. I am old, and I have to move on…I performed my duty to mentor you when you were King of Camelot. After that, my duties shifted to Avalon and my continued duty of looking after Kilgharrah. I hope that you could forgive me, but I thought it best to leave you to live your life in peace.”
Arthur leaned forward, and Merlin looked at him questioningly, before Arthur kissed him on the lips.
“I want you to stay,” he asked of him.
Merlin let out a shuddering sigh, pulling away from him. “Arthur, please don’t say that.”
“Merlin?” Arthur said, puzzled.
But Merlin did not answer him, a faraway look in his eyes like he was remembering a long ago memory…
“Merlin, did you hear me?” Arthur said worriedly.
Merlin shook himself, and finally his gaze settled on Arthur. “Sorry, I was somewhere else,” he said apologetically. “Arthur, you know that I have no place in your life now.”
“Yes, Morgana said the same thing. But I want you to be a part of my life, Merlin. I am asking you to. Please,” Arthur nearly pleaded with him.
“No, I can not,” Merlin told him firmly. He took a pineapple slice and ate it, his eyes directed at the table.
“Merlin…” Arthur started.
The Dragonlord gave him a stern look, forcing Arthur to back down. Sometimes, Merlin looked at him with this thundering look, a look that proved Arthur more than anything that Merlin held great power in his hands and it was not wise to test him.
Merlin shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a red wooden dragon ornament.
Arthur watched as the other man laid a gentle kiss upon the dragon ornament before setting it on the table.
But before Merlin could speak, Arthur interrupted him, needing to know, “Merlin, just tell me now. Do you love me? I know you said you did when I was dying at Camlann, but that was an exception, I’m guessing. It wouldn’t seem right to say, “I love you, but you know, not in that way” to someone who’s near death before you,” he mused.
“I do care about you, Arthur,” Merlin asserted, even though it sounded hollow to Arthur’s ears. Care was the easier, less weighty word to use. “And you yourself have said that one can love more than one person, right?”
“That’s your answer,” Arthur said flatly.
Merlin inclined his head soberly. “You do not know me, Arthur. I regret there are some things I have refrained from telling you. I admit I do not tell them to others freely. Nimue knows because she is the daughter of a childhood friend, and I could not hide anything from her. And of course, Kilgharrah knows as well - a Dragonlord’s dragon knows all his human’s secrets.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “And Morgana and Viviane? Do they know?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, they don’t,” he said a bit regretfully. “If you truly knew me, I have doubts that your feelings would remain the same,” Merlin said simply.
Feeling unease and an irresistible curiosity settle within him, Arthur sought to question him further. But Merlin held up a hand stopping him. He gestured to the red dragon ornament then.
“If this dragon turns black, then there’s a very good chance you’ll be dead soon.”
“Could you put it any more bluntly?” Arthur told him, rolling his eyes. He nodded at Merlin. “What then? Is it like a magically-enhanced dragon tracker then?”
“No, not exactly. I did magically enhance it, but it only tells me if the dragon is alive and well. That Kilgharrah has not suffered a fatal wound. I am unable to track him because I’m being prevented from doing so,” Merlin explained, looking quite irritated at that.
“Did you make the dragon ornament?” Arthur asked him.
240 AD
“But I’m not abandoning you now,” Morgaine said fiercely, her green eyes bright.
“Children of Dragonlords, we stay together,” she said lightly, smiling at him.
Merlin returned the smile. She kissed him softly on the forehead. Tendrils of her red hair touched his cheeks, almost tickling them.
Morgaine took out a small carved wooden dragon, painted red, then and offered it to him.
“My father always bemoaned having me instead of a son to pass his talent down to,” she told him. Merlin gave her a consoling smile, knowing this quite well. The two of them had grown up together after all.
“I think that this would mean more to you than to me,” she said as he took the carved dragon from her. “When a dragon chooses you, you could use this as a good luck charm. So that your bond with your dragon will be strong and true.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. You’re too good to me,” he told her sincerely. “Tell Arthur that I wish him well, that I wish the both of you well.”
“And the little ones?” she reminded him gently.
Merlin nodded. “Yes, them as well. How many are there now?” He teased lightly.
She looked exasperated, ready to hit him. But in the end, she didn’t. “Three. I despair of having no girl yet,” she said with a sigh.
“I’m sure you will one day,” he assured her. Merlin gave her a serious look. “What about you? If helping me puts you in harm’s way…” he started worriedly.
Morgaine shook her head, a firm, reassuring smile on her lips. “Don’t you worry about me. I will be all right. Arthur will take care of me. You only need to focus on keeping yourself out of danger, okay? I want you to do that for me.” She asked of him.
Merlin shook his head. “It was originally a gift from Morgaine. She gave it to me when I was twenty-five. I took great care in maintaining its appearance over the centuries…”
Arthur sighed. Of course, it would be from her. That was why Merlin had kissed the dragon earlier. He knew it was childish to feel jealous…Merlin had lived a long time after all. It was ridiculous to think that he, Arthur, would be the first to fancy the man. Or that Merlin’s heart didn’t still ache for a long lost love. With all the people Merlin was sure to have met and loved over all those years, Arthur’s love life was a cake walk by comparison.
Though, he had to admit that it still hurt a bit.
Part 5