fic: The Second Coming
Title: The Second Coming
Title: writteninhaste previously feathergirl89
Title: G
Title: none
Title: Albion's need is dire, and Merlin once again seeks his king.
The Second Coming
Years ago, Merlin felt the Chaos rising in the East. It rolled and boiled and destroyed everything in its path. It was that day that he began his search.
The Chaos is growing. Merlin knows this with unerring certainty. And, he thinks, the whole world probably knows it too.
The Great War they called it. Then, later, World War II. They had no idea.
This, this right here and now, is what it means for the world to be at war.
The bombs fall from the sky, filled with nuclear poison and biological agents too horrible to name and Merlin bites his lip and hopes it is not too late.
It took many years to find Arthur - perhaps too many. And when Merlin finds him, he is already close to broken. He has been a soldier in this war - and he has been a casualty.
When Merlin knocks on the door of a rundown house a few miles past an Army Post, he is greeted by a pair of tired grey eyes and face scarred by acid.
If he had passed him on the street, Merlin never would have known - the spirit inside this body is small and weak. This is not the man that Merlin once knew.
Still, he gives Excalibur over into this man’s hands, and waits for familiarity to return the memories.
He is shocked therefore, when the man does not hesitate to give the sword back.
“I don’t want it Merlin. Not anymore.” The voice is rough, hoarse, and Merlin thinks he must have ripped his vocal cords to shreds in that prison in the East.
Merlin frowns and shoves Excalibur at the man in the door. “You have to, you must. It’s your destiny. You’re the only one who can save us now.”
The man snorted derisively, mangled lip curving in a sneer. “Look around you Merlin, what is there left to save?”
“The people.” Merlin whispered. “And me.”
Grey eyes met his then, and Merlin’s heart lurched because surely, now that Arthur had returned, he could once again be happy.
Then this man, whom Merlin had hoped to once again call ‘Arthur’, did what should never have been possible and broke Excalibur in two across his knee.
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This is a really, really rough piece that I wrote in like, four minutes, so apologies if it sucks.
Title: writteninhaste previously feathergirl89
Title: G
Title: none
Title: Albion's need is dire, and Merlin once again seeks his king.
The Second Coming
Years ago, Merlin felt the Chaos rising in the East. It rolled and boiled and destroyed everything in its path. It was that day that he began his search.
The Chaos is growing. Merlin knows this with unerring certainty. And, he thinks, the whole world probably knows it too.
The Great War they called it. Then, later, World War II. They had no idea.
This, this right here and now, is what it means for the world to be at war.
The bombs fall from the sky, filled with nuclear poison and biological agents too horrible to name and Merlin bites his lip and hopes it is not too late.
It took many years to find Arthur - perhaps too many. And when Merlin finds him, he is already close to broken. He has been a soldier in this war - and he has been a casualty.
When Merlin knocks on the door of a rundown house a few miles past an Army Post, he is greeted by a pair of tired grey eyes and face scarred by acid.
If he had passed him on the street, Merlin never would have known - the spirit inside this body is small and weak. This is not the man that Merlin once knew.
Still, he gives Excalibur over into this man’s hands, and waits for familiarity to return the memories.
He is shocked therefore, when the man does not hesitate to give the sword back.
“I don’t want it Merlin. Not anymore.” The voice is rough, hoarse, and Merlin thinks he must have ripped his vocal cords to shreds in that prison in the East.
Merlin frowns and shoves Excalibur at the man in the door. “You have to, you must. It’s your destiny. You’re the only one who can save us now.”
The man snorted derisively, mangled lip curving in a sneer. “Look around you Merlin, what is there left to save?”
“The people.” Merlin whispered. “And me.”
Grey eyes met his then, and Merlin’s heart lurched because surely, now that Arthur had returned, he could once again be happy.
Then this man, whom Merlin had hoped to once again call ‘Arthur’, did what should never have been possible and broke Excalibur in two across his knee.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a really, really rough piece that I wrote in like, four minutes, so apologies if it sucks.