Living to Death (Part 2a of "Different Ways of Living")
Title: Different Ways of Living (2a/3)
Author: dk323
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Lancelot, Merlin/OC
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: The shows Merlin and Doctor Who are both property of the BBC. Some dialogue is lifted straight from the episode, "Blink." No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Upon his return to the present, Merlin learns some alarming news from Lancelot, which leads him to the angel statues, angels who weep...
To take one breath in 2011 and the next in 1920 is a strange way to start a new life...
Series summary: Merlin is reincarnated as a puppy in his first reincarnation - 1500 years after the days of Camelot. Despite not knowing his true identity, he is compelled to seek out Arthur’s reincarnation. Arthur takes Merlin in as a pet. And then things get interesting...
Author’s Notes: Just taking the idea of the Weeping Angels (solely inspired by their portrayal in S3’s “Blink”) from Doctor Who and running with it here… I’ve wanted to do something with the Weeping Angels for a while and somehow, having Merlin, Lancelot and Guinevere being animal detectives who investigate the angels sounded like a good idea.
Previous parts: The first reincarnation was peculiar, to say the least and A Dog's Life
Different Ways of Living: Reincarnation (P.1)
~ * ~
Living to Death
Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels. The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no fuss, they just zap you into the past and let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye. You die in the past, and in the present they consume the energy of all the days you might have had, all your stolen moments. They're creatures of the abstract. They live off potential energy. (The Doctor | 3x10 Blink)
~ * ~
Samantha Allison was in shock, to say the least, when she found herself in the middle of a grassy field. She had just been inside the Wester Drumlins house, hadn’t she? The sound of cattle mooing in the distance made her quickly realize that she wasn’t in London anymore. What had happened?
Determined to figure this out, she approached a man who she saw nearby.
“Excuse me? Where am I? I was in London. I was in the middle of London.”
The man nodded at her. “You’re in Hull,” he informed her.
“No, I’m not,” she protested in disbelief. She couldn’t understand how she could have been transported so suddenly to another place. It was the stuff out of Sci-Fi - stuff like this couldn’t possibly happen in the real world.
“This is Hull,” He said in a firmer tone this time, looking at her strangely.
"No, it isn’t,” Sam countered.
“You’re in Hull.”
Could he not say anything else? “I’m not in Hull. Stop saying Hull,” she said in exasperation.
The man sighed and he passed her the paper he was reading.
It was the newspaper for Hull and the date - the date was November 20, 1920 according to the paper. What in the world?
“Don’t have that in London. There’s no call for it. It’s all Hull,” the man told her, giving her a small smile. He appeared somewhat amused by her odd behavior.
“1920?” Sam breathed out in surprise. It was 1920? She just managed to resist swearing out loud.
The man nodded in the affirmative. He bit into the green apple he was holding.
Frustrated, she handed him back the paper and then she began walking in the other direction, away from the man.
She heard footsteps behind her and she turned her head, asking, “Are you following me?”
“Yeah,” he answered easily.
“Are you gonna stop following me?”
He shrugged, taking another bite out of his apple. “No, I don’t think so.”
Sam then gave herself a chance to truly consider the man before her… he didn’t look half bad, about her age, dark hair, an honest look about him…
And if this were really 1920…well, Sam was going to need all the help she could get. The man may have been a stranger, but he was a likable enough, maybe slightly irritating, but she was feeling disoriented, so she wasn’t the best judge at the moment.
The man was good-looking, not drop-dead gorgeous, but not every man looked like Arthur Pendragon after all. She still wasn’t sure what had happened there. After Arthur had come to retrieve his wayward dog (nine months ago now, was it?), she and Arthur had dated up until little over month ago. They had mutually decided that they were better off as friends. The pair hadn’t clicked in that way and Sam had come to the shoddy conclusion that she wasn’t into blondes. And really - wasn’t that just weak?
Then she remembered her dogs -- Knight and Leon -- oh gods...if she were here in 1920, who would take care of them? She was their sole caretaker and now Sam could only hope Cara or any of her other friends would take them in. Leon was getting on in years though and he had been feeling ill that day. Shamed as she was to admit it, but she had been considering putting him to sleep, to put him out of his misery. There was nothing she could do now though, no matter her concerns. She felt assured that Knight would be fine -- he had always been an independent dog. Yet, still...she knew that she was going to miss them dearly.
She shook herself, coming back to the confusing situation at hand. Bloody hell, she was in 1920… So, with that last thought, Sam put her best foot forward and decided to properly introduce herself to this man… and then who knew what the future would hold?
~ * ~
When Merlin returned from his trip to the past, he heard barking in the front yard. He recognized the bark - after all he had known Lancelot - in his current form as Knight at least -- for months now.
Merlin supposed it was a bit ironic that he had the ease of time travel - something that was largely considered impossible - while mental communication - especially across a great distance - was not as simple as one would hope it to be. Usually, he spoke to the other three - Guinevere, Lancelot and Leon - when they were within viewing distance.
He couldn’t see Lancelot now, and he soon found that he couldn’t talk to him mentally, as if he had hit a particularly stubborn wall. If he thought this was frustrating, then Merlin had a bad feeling that mentally communicating with Arthur, a completely different species to him, would be even more of a challenge. But he knew it was possible, it had to be possible - he had his magic to help him after all. Merlin could not imagine not communicating with Arthur properly. It hurt him too much to think of being unable to…
So Merlin resorted to barking back at Lancelot in acknowledgement. Because the backyard was enclosed, he transported himself to the front of the house.
Once he saw Lancelot, looking deeply worried and somewhat troubled as well, Merlin immediately asked, “What is wrong?” He could not miss the uneasiness in the older dog’s bark.
“Sam’s gone, Merlin. I think…well, how reliable do you think a gravestone is?” Lancelot inquired suddenly, confusing Merlin at the odd question.
Merlin stared at him. “Er, I’d imagine it would be pretty reliable. What happened though? Why do you think Sam is gone?” He wondered.
“I saw her disappear,” Lancelot stated firmly. “I don’t understand it, but look…you should see it for yourself. Cara and I went to the cemetery where she was buried and gods, Merlin, her grandson, Richard, came to the house and gave Cara this envelope containing a letter written by Sam and pictures of her and her family. I think that this is real, no matter how much I don’t wish it to be, but I think that the angel statues at the house are--”
Merlin’s head was spinning. This was a lot of information to take in. He interrupted, “Hold on…what house? And do you mean Sam’s grandson? How is that possible? She’s not even married yet!”
“The Wester Drumlins house...and yes, Richard said that Samantha Allison - although her married name was Wainwright - was his grandmother. I’ll explain everything on the way to the cemetery. You need to see this.”
Merlin walked beside him, heading in the direction of the cemetery. Before Lancelot could begin his explanation, Merlin informed that he remembered his past human life and that he could control his magic now. He couldn’t very well let important details like that wait after all. Lancelot was happy for him, congratulating him on the event, but he was still tense - his mind more focused on the worrying certainty that his caretaker was truly gone. Merlin couldn’t blame him - he himself would be dreadfully worried if something like this had happened to Arthur.
As they made their way to the cemetery, Lancelot told him that Sam and Cara - her friend who she had been a surrogate mother for, the baby now six months old - had gone to the Wester Drumlins house on a lark. They had only planned to spend their lunch break there, to see if the house was really haunted.
Lancelot had come along because he had been with Sam at the bakery she owned and worked at. Leon hadn’t been feeling too well lately, and he had elected to stay at home. After the women had investigated the house a bit, the doorbell, strangely enough, rang when it shouldn’t have considering this house had been long ago abandoned. Cara had gone to answer the door while Lancelot stayed by Sam while she ventured further into the house. And Lancelot wished that he would have realized that something was not right, not right at all, with this angel statue that had its stone hands covering its face as if it were weeping.
Sam had taken a look at the curious statue, but then she had turned away from it, and she blinked…
And then the angel showed its face, its mouth open and its hand reaching out - eager to grab. Lancelot could do nothing when Sam simply disappeared, a startled gasp escaping her lips as the angel - there was no other explanation for it now - did something to make the woman disappear. Lancelot had remained untouched. The angel had appeared disinterested in the dog and its hands went up to cover its face once more when Lancelot had peered at the statue again.
Feeling understandably unnerved, Lancelot went back to Cara who was talking to the man who had rung the doorbell.
“Sam’s grandson, Richard?” Merlin asked as the two dogs neared the cemetery.
Lancelot nodded. “Yes, and he said that before she died, his grandmother, Sam, told him to come to the house at that exact time to deliver the envelope to Cara. He left not long after - he looked a bit anxious about being there in the first place. Cara read the letter out loud - well, most of it at least - and I almost couldn’t believe what it said, Merlin.”
“What did it say? What happened to Sam?”
“Apparently she landed in the year 1920 - she traveled to the past just like that. The angel must have had magic like you, Merlin. I know you could travel in time, but I wish I had a clue why that angel statue chose to send Sam back in time. I don’t even know if there’s a way to get her back…if events have already taken their course with her having a grandson and everything. And the first person she met in 1920 - Ben Wainwright - was the man she married and had children with. She assured Cara in the letter that she had lived a long and full life even though she hadn’t expected to start anew in the past.”
“That’s tricky… trust me, Lancelot, I would travel to the past to retrieve her in a heartbeat, but Time is a delicate thing. And whatever the angel did - it may not be undone. Sam has already lived her life - if I try to return her to this time, then her children, her grandson will very likely cease to exist. And I worry about the repercussions of playing with Time like that,” Merlin informed him, not liking letting his friend down, but he honestly did feel uneasy with attempting to undo an unknown entity’s work. He didn’t have any knowledge about these angels or how powerful they were and if they even were using magic to ‘attack.’
“Whereas that angel statue could play with Time without a single concern for the life it was ruining?” Lancelot remarked bitterly, feeling angered at this unprovoked snatching of his caretaker.
“I’m really sorry. Look, you could show me the gravestone…and then we’ll check out the Wester Drumlins house. Maybe I could find a way to communicate with the angels,” Merlin offered.
The two of them entered the cemetery and Lancelot led the way to his caretaker’s grave.
The older dog nodded numbly. “All right. I left Cara at Sam’s grave - I think she was in too much shock to notice my departure - but she’s probably already left. I don’t see her anywhere.”
When they arrived at her gravestone, Merlin was startled - despite knowing what he would see, he still couldn’t help it - to find Sam’s name on the grey stone with the years 1899-1979 below her name.
“She lied about her age a bit. Told him she was 21,” Lancelot remarked. “It’s a female thing I’ll never understand,” He said.
“I’m with you there. Lucky she looked young enough to get away with it,” Merlin said as he peered closer at the gravestone.
“Could you - you know - check with your magic to verify it’s really her down there?” The older dog asked him lightly.
Merlin didn’t really want to do so, actually, because he wasn’t sure what he would find. But at Lancelot’s hopeful look, Merlin gave him a nod to tell him he would try.
His eyes flashed gold as he directed his gaze down at the ground before the stone. It only took a minute to make sure that there wasn’t any foul play. But Merlin was absolutely certain that the person six feet under truly was Sam…who had been sent to the past to live out her life. If only she had known how drastically her life would change in the blink of an eye. Still, what was done was done.
He studied the stone again and her engraved name suddenly shifted into different letters. Merlin wasn’t sure if he was going mad or…but the name now read, “Arthur Pendragon.”
Merlin put it down to his fears of Arthur dying and leaving him behind…after all, he had had to live years without him back in the days of Camelot. Rationally, Merlin knew that he would die as a dog before Arthur, the blond easily outliving him; but yet… the fear still gnawed at him.
What the angels Lancelot had encountered were capable of doing didn’t soothe his uneasiness one bit. If Arthur were to be unwillingly sent to the past to live out his life, then who knew what havoc that would cause on his chances of being reborn again?
Before he could dwell on that thought further, an image assaulted his mind.
It was himself, human - in his mid-twenties and not looking that different from how he had looked during those early years in Camelot when he had been Arthur’s manservant. His outfit was more modern than what he had worn in Camelot though. A more aware part of his head told him, “this is the future” and he could only agree. It had to be a future reincarnation, but if it was going to be his next life or one even further along, Merlin was not sure.
His future self was wearing a pale blue collared shirt with a shining, gold silk tie and dark trousers. Sitting in the sand before a beach, his bare toes dug into the white sand. Then the man lifted his head to observe the sky, and a small smile graced his lips as he saw the golden eagle flying overhead.
A pretty blonde woman, a little younger than him maybe, collapsed down beside his future self. She was wearing a purple summer dress, but what struck him most was the golden cross necklace about her neck.
“Oh, there he is,” she said softly, pointing at the eagle.
He turned to her and grinned, and she laid her head comfortably on his shoulder, the familiarity between the two showing through loud and clear.
The eagle landed a few feet away from them, tilting his head at the two as if he were trying to puzzle them out.
“Hello, old friend,” he said quietly as he reached out his hand in invitation.
The bird, still wary, moved forward a few inches in their direction.
His future self looked somewhat amused by the eagle’s guardedness.
He spoke to the woman then. “Alice,” the man began.
But the scene faded away before Merlin could hear what his future reincarnation had been meaning to say.
“Merlin, are you all right? You seemed to be somewhere else for a moment,” Lancelot spoke, his voice breaking Merlin’s unanticipated glimpse into his future or something not far from a very peculiar dream.
“Yes, I’m fine,” he said quickly. “We should go to the house. Bring Guinevere along. She would like it,” Merlin told him.
“And why is that?” Lancelot asked.
Merlin’s eyes twinkled, and he said wryly, “Old house…the rats. She likes to eat rats…and well, Morgana’s currently at work like Arthur, so Guinevere is probably bored stiff now. I can’t leave her out. I thought you enjoyed her company,” he prodded cheekily.
The first time Lancelot had met Guinevere - not long after Merlin had first encountered him and Leon - the cat had complimented Lancelot on his fur…saying it was “nice and looked very soft.”
She hadn’t been sure why she had an attachment to him - similar to how she had reacted to Merlin when he had shown up on Arthur’s doorstep. Still, she found Lancelot intriguing. Meanwhile, Lancelot tried to figure out how to deal with knowing his past human life, particularly his past relationship with her, when Guinevere hadn’t remembered her previous life yet. It was a perplexing friendship to say the least.
“Of course I like being with her,” Lancelot told him as if Merlin were mad for thinking different. “Bit weird still, even after knowing her for months, to find Guinevere as a cat. And she hasn’t remembered yet?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, and by her opinion on the matter - I think she’ll do anything not to remember. She said that she relishes being a cat too much to have her memories of her human life mess that up.”
“If anyone could use sheer force of will to avoid remembering, it would be Guinevere… well, her and Morgana both, honestly,” Lancelot remarked.
Merlin couldn’t help but agree.
And so they went to retrieve Guinevere, who perked up at the opportunity to hunt for rats and other vermin cats were so fond of. She expressed understandable worry about confronting these angel creatures after what they had done. But Lancelot reassured her that the particular angel he had seen hadn’t been interested in him. That maybe it was the sort of creature to threaten humans, but not animals. Merlin said that the best they could do now was make absolutely certain that neither Arthur nor Morgana go anywhere near the house. Guinevere agreed with fervor on that point.
~ * ~
They went on their way to the Wester Drumlins house. Merlin confided in Guinevere that he remembered his human life of centuries past. He had expected her disappointed reaction as she realized that she was the last one left not to be “tied down to some long ago life that had little relevance now” as Guinevere put it. She fretted a bit that if Merlin had recalled his past life, then would that mean she would remember hers too? But then the cat purposefully set aside those worrying thoughts and instead, focused on inquiring if Merlin’s head was all right with all those acorns falling on it.
Merlin assured her that his head was just fine and for the rest of their trip to the house, Guinevere chatted with Merlin while Lancelot contributed every so often. One would think that the cat was flirting with the black dog, but Merlin knew that she was just more comfortable around him. Anyway, they saw each other more often as Arthur and Morgana were family, and Guinevere was still a bit uneasy, shy maybe, around Lancelot.
Merlin could tell that the cat fancied Lancelot, but she didn’t know what to do with those feelings. Guinevere knew Lancelot remembered a past life with her as more than a friend and that made everything so much more awkward and confusing. So Guinevere tried to cope as best as she could. She didn’t shun Lancelot exactly - she was as friendly and polite as ever toward him -- but still there was something integral missing to their interaction. And, Merlin understood now, that something had to be Guinevere remembering - the last thing that the cat wished to do.
~ * ~
Merlin was getting frustrated with the angels - there were three of them in the room - and he was having considerable difficulty trying to communicate with them. All he wanted to know what their agenda was, why they were taking humans like this. But all he received from the otherworldly angel statues was a jarring sense that they were chuckling at him, like they were amused by him.
Their stone hands were always covering their faces as they were frozen in time, forever weeping. It appeared that these three angels would not repeat what Lancelot had seen - none had made the slightest movement against the two dogs and cat. Merlin had to agree with Lancelot’s conclusion that the angels were a danger to humans, certainly not to animals.
But still, if only he could find out a way to communicate with these angels…
“No success?” Lancelot spoke up, seeing Merlin’s disgruntled expression.
Merlin nodded sullenly.
Guinevere was too preoccupied with munching on a freshly caught mouse to notice.
Merlin stared at Guinevere eating for a long moment before a thought hit him.
“It’s food,” Merlin blurted out, beginning to realize what he had been missing.
Lancelot stared at him. “Come again?” He had been lying down, lost in thought, but he lifted his head upon Merlin’s odd declaration.
Merlin sounded considerably excited about his revelation as he voiced his theory. “We consume food to gain energy. But what if, well, food can come in all different forms, right? Maybe these weeping angels get energy from taking people and sending them into the past. It’s their nourishment. They live off this energy, they require it to survive.”
“So, what sort of energy could the angels be consuming from sending people back in time? Time energy or something?” Lancelot guessed.
Before Merlin could answer, Guinevere contributed to the conversation as she was now finished with her food. She explained, “Well, that should be clear, shouldn’t it? Sam should have lived her life in our present, but then the angel took her and took away any chance of her doing that. All the moments that Sam could have had, all the different things she could have experienced in this time will never happen. As she lives from 1920 onward, the angel is feeding off of the life Sam should have lived in our time. She’s living to death…her stolen moments used as food for the angel while she lives her life in the past and dies before she was truly born.”
Looking satisfied with herself, Guinevere proceeded to clean her paws.
Lancelot appeared amazed at her deduction skills.
“But…you don’t remember your past human life…how did you figure that out?” Lancelot wondered.
“Well, just because I don’t remember being a biped does not mean that I lack comprehension skills. And it wasn’t too hard to come to such a conclusion,” Guinevere said smartly.
“You just had to know what was being lost. What is one person’s loss is another person’s gain…” Merlin put in.
Guinevere nodded. “Yes, exactly that.”
Lancelot gave a resigned sigh. “This is why I was never an intellectual.”
Merlin was quick to make the older dog feel better. “But you were a brilliant Knight, Lancelot. Your fighting prowess was legendary. Literally, considering all the texts about you…”
“Thank you, Merlin. I appreciate it,” he told him, accepting his praise. Then Lancelot had to ask, “So if Sam can’t return, could I at least see if she’s all right? Yes, there were the pictures and the letter, but sometimes that’s not enough,” Lancelot gave Merlin a hopeful look.
Merlin shook his head, looking truly apologetic. “It takes a lot of magic for me to time travel and I just traveled in time recently. I need some time to recharge a bit, and considering that I traveled way back to my first life, centuries ago, it will require a good amount of time. And I’m worried that the angels will find a way to retaliate if we visit her. They’ll see it as interfering no matter if we’re not seeking to return Sam.”
“But they’re not interested in us. What do we have that they'd want to retaliate with?” The older dog asked impatiently, his exasperation seeping through.
Guinevere hissed at both of them. “I’d like to know why we’re still discussing this in front of the angels. Next thing you know, we’ll be debating how to kill them and then they’ll definitely retaliate.”
Lancelot huffed. “But we’re not speaking out loud. They don’t seem to be paying attention to anything we say.”
“Guinevere’s right. Just as a precaution,” Merlin agreed.
The three of them left the room and ventured up the stairs. Fortunately, there were no angels in the corridor on the second floor.
“They want humans, and so...” Merlin drifted off, giving him a significant look.
Lancelot understood then. Of course, if the angels managed to snatch Arthur or Morgana, then there’d be hell to pay. And Merlin would do anything in his power to set things right.
But…
“If this were any of us, from Camelot, then you would try harder, wouldn’t you, Merlin?” Lancelot accused in a soft tone. “I know that Sam was just a normal person, not a reincarnation, but she mattered to me. If you could just care enough…”
“I do care!” Merlin exclaimed defensively. “I do, Lancelot. I can’t believe you don’t…I liked her, I truly did! But this is a sensitive matter. Sam has lived her life and there are people’s lives that depend on her living from 1920 onward,” Merlin tried, once again, to make his point. His eyes flashed golden for a moment, his face stricken at Lancelot’s insinuation.
“Then tell me: if this were Arthur, if he had been sent to the past by the angels, then would you act the same way as you are now? Or would you try harder?” Lancelot demanded.
Guinevere stared at each of them in turn, feeling the tension between them. It was palpable.
Merlin growled at him, angered by such a heavy question.
He lifted his head, his blue eyes piercing Lancelot’s dark ones as he answered carefully, “If Arthur’s family, his descendants would be wiped out, then I would act the same. I would not interfere,” Merlin finished.
The older dog’s eyes remained fixed on Merlin’s before he broke his gaze. “All right. I believe you,” Lancelot finally responded solemnly.
Merlin gave a short nod and then he announced, “I’m going to see if I could destroy the angels with magic. Set them on fire, maybe. Otherwise, I’ll have to seal up this house magically so that no human will enter and be food for these angels.”
“Do you think they could be destroyed?” Guinevere wondered, sounding doubtful.
“I don’t know…they’re clearly not human. They’re a chance that they’re immortal and quite possibly beyond any powers I possess. I don’t know what to make of them other than what they prefer to ‘eat’.”
“They could be alien, from another world,” Lancelot offered.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. That makes me even more nervous,” Merlin mused, but he proceeded to go down the stairs anyway. Guinevere followed after him.
“I’ll stay up here,” Lancelot told the other two. “Good luck.”
Merlin and Guinevere nodded at him and went on without him.
~ * ~
“Oh pity. They won’t catch on fire,” Guinevere remarked sadly.
The three angels were left unaffected by the fire Merlin set on them. They still held their weeping positions, barely a twitch from any of them. Merlin did get an even better feeling of their laughter directed at him. The weeping angels clearly thought themselves superior to him. It was infuriating. He had always felt his power, his magic to be uncontested. Despite not grossly flaunting the fact, dealing with these strange alien creatures forced a surge of unwanted inferiority within Merlin.
He did not like feeling inferior at all.
He turned to Guinevere once they had moved away from the angels. “I think Excalibur could take them down, but I can’t access it now, unfortunately.”
Merlin prayed that he wouldn’t encounter more of these angels outside of Wester Drumlins. Otherwise, he’d have to come up with another way to take care of them. Trap the angels somewhere and seal off the enclosure? He’d just have to think of something when the time came, which he sorely wished would never happen.
“Why can’t you access Excalibur?” Guinevere inquired.
“Because I was told by the Lady of the Lake that after King Arthur’s death, Excalibur would only be available when it is truly needed, upon the world’s end. Arthur and I would feel the sword’s presence when such a time is near and we will have need of Excalibur. Only Arthur can wield Excalibur. Only then will the sword be at its full strength. But even if we had Excalibur, these angels may very well send Arthur back in time before he can so much as draw his sword upon them.”
“Oh dear. Yes, Excalibur won’t be much help here, you’re right. Well, as long as we can insure others will be left untouched by the weeping angels…” Guinevere said, trying to keep positive.
Merlin inclined his head. “Yes, that’s the best thing we could do now,” he concurred.
The doorbell rang then surprising both of them.
“Do you think…?” Guinevere asked, wondering if the angels had taken another person and a grandchild was coming to tell them so as Sam’s grandson had done.
But Merlin heard a familiar voice inside his head and he knew who it was behind the door.
“I’ll get the door. You should go back to Lancelot…I’ll be fine, trust me,” Merlin assured her.
Guinevere looked uncertainly at him, but then gave a reluctant nod. “Do you know who it is, Merlin?”
“Yes,” he answered her. “It’s nothing bad, believe me,” Merlin again reassured his friend.
The cat gave him one last scrutinizing look before she left his company.
Merlin went to the door and opened it magically. As he had been told inside his head, his next reincarnation, human, was at the door.
And also, Arthur…well, not his Arthur, but the Arthur from the next life. The pair looked to be in their late teens, college-aged quite likely. If Arthur’s younger appearance didn’t tip the dog off to him being a future Arthur, then his cheeky tight shirt with the words, “Boo, You Whore” imprinted upon it would have been enough to confirm it for him. His Arthur was a little bit more mature than that, at least Merlin would like to think that (though who knew how Arthur was when he’d been at university. Merlin hadn’t been born yet then, so he had little to go on).
The future Merlin was wearing a slightly more respectable dark shirt with the words, “Merlyn” and “Est.: ∞” below the name all emblazoned in gold.
“You do your business, I’ll just continue reading,” Arthur said, pulling out a book out of his pack. From what the dog could see, the book was entitled, “The Road to Avalon” by the author Joan Wolf.
Merlin’s future reincarnation rolled his eyes. “You’re actually following through with the bet?” He said, looking quite bemused. “You do know that Morgana wanted you to read that book so you’d be scarred for life. I should know, I read that one,” He remarked.
“Gods, Merlin. You probably read them all because you’re a dork,” Arthur retorted, grinning at him. “And anyway, I lost the bet. I’m not going to back out now because of how this book twists our story.”
“Everyone believes it to be legend… it’s just another variation,” Merlin said with a sigh, rubbing his brow.
“Except you always seem to be an old man and then this whole thing,” Arthur noted, waving his hand vaguely to explain what he meant by ‘thing’, “would be jailbait.”
The human Merlin looked about ready to shoot back with a well-placed remark, but then Arthur opened the book and started reading the page he left off on.
And so, instead, Merlin knelt down before his past reincarnation, patting him on the head in greeting. “Hey, how are you? I know this is a bit sudden, but we came here for a good reason…” he spoke inside the dog’s mind so that Arthur couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Though Merlin the dog did hear Arthur mutter something about ‘dog whisperers’ before returning his attention to the book.
“The weeping angels - you could be in danger,” Merlin told his future, very human self.
“Oh, don’t worry. I remember them. I made sure to place a shield on Arthur and me so they won’t notice us. Do you mind if we do this outside?” He asked the dog.
Merlin shrugged, acquiescing to his future self’s request. The dog trotted out the door and his human self closed the door behind them.
“Merlin, mind giving me a chair?” Arthur asked the man.
Merlin glared at him. “My magic is not to make you comfortable, you royal prat,” he bit back at him.
Arthur just tilted his head at him. “You know, you’re cute when you’re angry.”
The blond smiled at him deviously and then he moved forward, laying his hand upon Merlin’s pale cheek and kissing him on the lips. He smiled brilliantly afterwards.
With a golden flash of his eyes and snap of his fingers, the human Merlin conjured a chair for Arthur, who sat upon it with a look of smug accomplishment on his features.
“I apologize for the prat’s behavior. This is a bit of a detour for us on our holiday, but I have to do this all the same. And unfortunately, I needed Arthur to come with me,” Merlin informed the dog out loud this time, so that Arthur earned the pleasure of hearing such “loving” compliments being said about him.
Merlin the dog didn’t mind too much. He was quite used to - almost unpleasantly so - Arthur being a bit of a prat. It was in the blond’s blood, he was sure of it.
And so his future self pressed on, continuing to speak out loud. “I’m going to perform the spell to open up the mental communication between you and Arthur. I know how difficult it can be to make this work, so that’s why I’m here to help. And given some time, you should be able to communicate in non-viewing distance too. Once I do this, you should be able to communicate with Morgana as well. It may take a while because we don’t have the bond with her as we do with Arthur, but opening the communication channel now is a good first step.”
“I feel special,” Arthur said glibly, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Oh, shut up. Go back to reading about your incestuous relationship with Morgana,” Merlin retorted, waving his hand at him.
“I think I will,” Arthur told him easily as he licked the tip of his finger and turned to the next page.
“I just remembered today. Arthur doesn’t know yet that I know who I truly am,” Merlin the dog informed him.
“Oh, right… he’s still at work now. Well, he reacts to it well enough as you can imagine. Nice ending to the day,” his future reincarnation told him, speaking mind to mind now rather than out loud. The human appeared thoughtful, looking as if he were doing his best to recall a long ago event.
The dog could only imagine how long ago it could have been for his future reincarnation. Surely it wasn’t 1500 years - like the length of time between his original life and this first reincarnation. By the look of their clothing, shirts and denim, Merlin didn’t think they were that far into the future. A good few decades at least - there was no doubt about that. Maybe his Arthur would grow to be an old man and maybe only a few years would pass between his death and rebirth?
And judging by the future Arthur and Merlin looking quite close to each other in age, they had been lucky to be reborn not too far apart from each other. Merlin the dog couldn’t resist being especially gleeful about seeing this confirmation before his eyes: in the next life, he and Arthur would both be human and about the same age too. How could it get any better than that?
The human Merlin directed his attention to his companion. “Hey, Arthur, do you remember your last life when I told you that I remembered my true identity?”
Arthur stared at him incredulously. “That was ages ago. Do you know how much I have to deal with in my head? You think I remember that?”
“Arthur…” The dark-haired man said slowly, a hint of warning in his tone.
“Hmmm, all right…let me just get rid of some of the dust…” The human Merlin rolled his eyes at the blond’s sarcasm. “All right, yes…it went well. The mental communication thing did wonders. Otherwise it would have taken a little longer for me to catch on,” Arthur remarked.
And then Merlin’s future human reincarnation pulled him up out of his chair. Arthur set his book on the chair seat before he allowed himself to be completely removed. “Come on then. Physical contact, remember?” Merlin pointedly reminded the blond.
“You only want me for my hand,” Arthur retorted, smirking.
He still knelt down beside dog Merlin, placing a hand on his furry head. The dog rubbed against his palm, happy to see him.
With a grin, Arthur couldn’t resist petting him. “Gods, I do miss you as a dog.”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” the human Merlin chimed in.
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? My Arthur now would probably jump up and down in glee if I were human,” Dog Merlin mused to his future self.
His future reincarnation gave him a small smile, agreeing with his remark.
Merlin the dog, feeling especially mischievous, wagged his tail as he pushed Arthur on to his back.
“Hey!” Arthur exclaimed, laughing.
The black dog promptly answered by licking the blond’s face in greeting. “Oi, Merlin. Stop that,” He said almost breathlessly, grinning at the dog all the same. The blond scratched behind the dog’s ears.
The human Merlin smiled at the sight, and then proceeded to utter the words of the mental communication spell.
The dog heard the words of his spell inside his mind and he filed the information for future use. After all, he would have to remember to come back in his next life to do the very same spell.
Upon the spell’s completion, the dog heard a pleasant hum in his mind, a hum that most certainly had not been there before.
“Greetings,” Arthur said silently to him in his mind. The dog could hear the amused tone of Arthur’s voice.
“You can understand me?” Merlin the dog asked, feeling an overwhelming excitement come over him.
“Oh yeah, quite clearly,” The blond replied to him. “The spell has worked, Merlin,” Arthur informed the human Merlin, looking up at him while he continued to pet the dog.
Merlin’s future self smiled, pleased. “Oh good. I knew it would, but checking never hurts. And this should work for all Arthurs, Merlin. So your Arthur should have the same hum in his mind as you do now. When you next see each other, you should be able to communicate with him.”
The dog nodded, taking in his words with a growing cheeriness within him. “Okay. Thank you for doing this.”
“We will always look after each other,” the human Merlin said softly inside his mind. The dog knew that by “we”, his future self meant all Merlins. After all, hadn’t he gone to visit his original self as he lay dying? To comfort him…himself, really.
Arthur’s hands left him as the blond stood up. He moved aside as the human Merlin sat down in front of the dog.
His blue eyes pierced the dog’s own as he silently spoke to him, “You have had the vision of the golden eagle, right? I know it may seem like an odd question, but I want to make sure all is progressing as it should be.”
At the mention of the eagle, the dog's curiosity was peaked. So there was a point to him having that inexplicable vision. “Just today, yes. And I saw me too, well, human me. A future reincarnation…was that you?” Merlin the dog wondered.
The human Merlin shook his head. “He is a future reincarnation, but that wasn’t me. For me, the Merlin you saw will be me in my next life. For you, it’ll be the life after your next one where you’re me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I think so… and there was a blonde woman with future me. They seemed close,” The dog also informed him. He knew quite well that his human self knew all this considering he had had the same vision in his previous life, the dog’s current life. He contemplated when his headache would come. Keeping all of these lives straight was not easy for the dog.
“Alice?” The human Merlin asked him.
Merlin recalled that name from the vision…yes, that was her name, Alice. Merlin told his future self that.
The human nodded at the dog's confirmation. Then he shifted subjects, an apology in his eyes. “Now, I’m truly sorry for this, but you will have to forget Arthur and I were ever here -- at least until your next life. The communication spell will remain intact, of course. The spell was the sole reason why we came to see you. It would do no good to know about your future, Merlin. I understand you may not wish to forget, but you must live your current life fully. You can not focus on what will be, but what is. You must be happy with yourself now even though it pains you that you are distanced from Arthur in such a way.”
“But I like knowing how my next life’ll turn out,” the dog argued. It was one thing to forget something bad, but to have to forget something as good as this was frustrating.
Still, his human self was right, no matter how much he wished he wasn’t. Merlin needed to focus on what he had now and not dwell, wasting away, on his next life. He was happy with Arthur in this life, wasn’t he? Despite the two of them being different species, there were still plenty of things to be grateful for.
“Very well,” Merlin the dog conceded weakly. “Thank you for coming. I’m guessing you won’t expand on the golden eagle vision? Is the eagle Arthur in a future reincarnation? I can’t think of another reason for my future self to address him as an ‘old friend’.”
But the future Merlin only smiled at him cryptically, a look that rivaled the Great Dragon’s.
Well then. Clearly the dog would not receive any more answers.
“Hey, Merlin and Merlin. The silent conversation you two are having is making me feel lonely,” Arthur raised his voice, speaking loudly. He gave the human Merlin a profoundly innocent look when the dark-haired man looked at him sharply.
“All right,” the human Merlin said, standing up. “We’re done, Arthur. We could go.”
“So, skinnydipping in New Zealand then?” Arthur inquired. He flashed the other man a cheeky grin.
Merlin shrugged. “Maybe, we will see,” he said noncommittally, smiling at the blond fondly.
“I know you want to go there as much as I do,” Arthur was quick to say, giving him a pointed look, and then he went to pack up his book.
Merlin made the chair he conjured disappear, and then the two of them were ready to go.
They said their goodbyes to the dog. And when Merlin’s future reincarnation transported himself and Arthur away via his magic, Merlin couldn’t recall why he was outside the entrance to Wester Drumlins.
Yet, he did not feel especially bothered by it. And this hum in his mind, which surely hadn’t been there before, was oddly reassuring and assuaged any worries he may have had. So, with a shrug, Merlin headed back inside the house to see what Lancelot and Guinevere were doing. He knew that he had to seal up the house very soon as it was nearing the time when Arthur would return home.
~ * ~
“Where were you?” Lancelot wanted to know when Merlin returned to him and Guinevere.
“You’ve been gone for half an hour, Merlin,” Guinevere informed him, a concerned look on her face.
“I’m all right. There’s no need to worry,” Merlin told them.
“But where were you?” Lancelot repeated.
“I was just outside the house… I can’t remember why, but that’s not what’s important right now,” he said, trying to change the subject. After all, the sooner he dealt with these angels, the sooner he could return home.
The other dog and cat stared at Merlin like he’d gone mad.
“We need to seal up the house, remember? That should be our priority. And then we have to figure out where Lancelot will live now that, well…” He drifted off, feeling particularly somber at the moment.
“I’ll be fine on my own,” Lancelot said firmly. “I’ve always liked to travel, to see the world.”
“Yes, I know, but I think it’d be best if we all stuck together - you, me, Guinevere, Arthur and Morgana. I’d feel better if you stayed. I’m sure I can get Arthur to take you in if only it’s for you to have a place to sleep when the weather’s bad or something to eat,” Merlin offered him, hoping that the older dog would agree to it.
“And Leon?” Lancelot asked.
“Of course, yes. We could make this work,” Merlin assured him.
Guinevere giggled. “Is Arthur going to come home to find he’s been suddenly entrusted with taking care of two more dogs?” She inquired.
Lancelot told her, “It shouldn’t be much of a big deal. We won’t be any trouble. Leon just lounges and sometimes glares at people when they’re being too loud.”
Merlin nodded at him. “Good, we have--”
But he was unable to finish what he was going to say by the appearance of a golden eagle before them on the second floor landing.
Living to Death: Part 2B
Author: dk323
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Lancelot, Merlin/OC
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: The shows Merlin and Doctor Who are both property of the BBC. Some dialogue is lifted straight from the episode, "Blink." No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Upon his return to the present, Merlin learns some alarming news from Lancelot, which leads him to the angel statues, angels who weep...
To take one breath in 2011 and the next in 1920 is a strange way to start a new life...
Series summary: Merlin is reincarnated as a puppy in his first reincarnation - 1500 years after the days of Camelot. Despite not knowing his true identity, he is compelled to seek out Arthur’s reincarnation. Arthur takes Merlin in as a pet. And then things get interesting...
Author’s Notes: Just taking the idea of the Weeping Angels (solely inspired by their portrayal in S3’s “Blink”) from Doctor Who and running with it here… I’ve wanted to do something with the Weeping Angels for a while and somehow, having Merlin, Lancelot and Guinevere being animal detectives who investigate the angels sounded like a good idea.
Previous parts: The first reincarnation was peculiar, to say the least and A Dog's Life
Different Ways of Living: Reincarnation (P.1)
~ * ~
Living to Death
Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels. The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no fuss, they just zap you into the past and let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye. You die in the past, and in the present they consume the energy of all the days you might have had, all your stolen moments. They're creatures of the abstract. They live off potential energy. (The Doctor | 3x10 Blink)
~ * ~
Samantha Allison was in shock, to say the least, when she found herself in the middle of a grassy field. She had just been inside the Wester Drumlins house, hadn’t she? The sound of cattle mooing in the distance made her quickly realize that she wasn’t in London anymore. What had happened?
Determined to figure this out, she approached a man who she saw nearby.
“Excuse me? Where am I? I was in London. I was in the middle of London.”
The man nodded at her. “You’re in Hull,” he informed her.
“No, I’m not,” she protested in disbelief. She couldn’t understand how she could have been transported so suddenly to another place. It was the stuff out of Sci-Fi - stuff like this couldn’t possibly happen in the real world.
“This is Hull,” He said in a firmer tone this time, looking at her strangely.
"No, it isn’t,” Sam countered.
“You’re in Hull.”
Could he not say anything else? “I’m not in Hull. Stop saying Hull,” she said in exasperation.
The man sighed and he passed her the paper he was reading.
It was the newspaper for Hull and the date - the date was November 20, 1920 according to the paper. What in the world?
“Don’t have that in London. There’s no call for it. It’s all Hull,” the man told her, giving her a small smile. He appeared somewhat amused by her odd behavior.
“1920?” Sam breathed out in surprise. It was 1920? She just managed to resist swearing out loud.
The man nodded in the affirmative. He bit into the green apple he was holding.
Frustrated, she handed him back the paper and then she began walking in the other direction, away from the man.
She heard footsteps behind her and she turned her head, asking, “Are you following me?”
“Yeah,” he answered easily.
“Are you gonna stop following me?”
He shrugged, taking another bite out of his apple. “No, I don’t think so.”
Sam then gave herself a chance to truly consider the man before her… he didn’t look half bad, about her age, dark hair, an honest look about him…
And if this were really 1920…well, Sam was going to need all the help she could get. The man may have been a stranger, but he was a likable enough, maybe slightly irritating, but she was feeling disoriented, so she wasn’t the best judge at the moment.
The man was good-looking, not drop-dead gorgeous, but not every man looked like Arthur Pendragon after all. She still wasn’t sure what had happened there. After Arthur had come to retrieve his wayward dog (nine months ago now, was it?), she and Arthur had dated up until little over month ago. They had mutually decided that they were better off as friends. The pair hadn’t clicked in that way and Sam had come to the shoddy conclusion that she wasn’t into blondes. And really - wasn’t that just weak?
Then she remembered her dogs -- Knight and Leon -- oh gods...if she were here in 1920, who would take care of them? She was their sole caretaker and now Sam could only hope Cara or any of her other friends would take them in. Leon was getting on in years though and he had been feeling ill that day. Shamed as she was to admit it, but she had been considering putting him to sleep, to put him out of his misery. There was nothing she could do now though, no matter her concerns. She felt assured that Knight would be fine -- he had always been an independent dog. Yet, still...she knew that she was going to miss them dearly.
She shook herself, coming back to the confusing situation at hand. Bloody hell, she was in 1920… So, with that last thought, Sam put her best foot forward and decided to properly introduce herself to this man… and then who knew what the future would hold?
~ * ~
When Merlin returned from his trip to the past, he heard barking in the front yard. He recognized the bark - after all he had known Lancelot - in his current form as Knight at least -- for months now.
Merlin supposed it was a bit ironic that he had the ease of time travel - something that was largely considered impossible - while mental communication - especially across a great distance - was not as simple as one would hope it to be. Usually, he spoke to the other three - Guinevere, Lancelot and Leon - when they were within viewing distance.
He couldn’t see Lancelot now, and he soon found that he couldn’t talk to him mentally, as if he had hit a particularly stubborn wall. If he thought this was frustrating, then Merlin had a bad feeling that mentally communicating with Arthur, a completely different species to him, would be even more of a challenge. But he knew it was possible, it had to be possible - he had his magic to help him after all. Merlin could not imagine not communicating with Arthur properly. It hurt him too much to think of being unable to…
So Merlin resorted to barking back at Lancelot in acknowledgement. Because the backyard was enclosed, he transported himself to the front of the house.
Once he saw Lancelot, looking deeply worried and somewhat troubled as well, Merlin immediately asked, “What is wrong?” He could not miss the uneasiness in the older dog’s bark.
“Sam’s gone, Merlin. I think…well, how reliable do you think a gravestone is?” Lancelot inquired suddenly, confusing Merlin at the odd question.
Merlin stared at him. “Er, I’d imagine it would be pretty reliable. What happened though? Why do you think Sam is gone?” He wondered.
“I saw her disappear,” Lancelot stated firmly. “I don’t understand it, but look…you should see it for yourself. Cara and I went to the cemetery where she was buried and gods, Merlin, her grandson, Richard, came to the house and gave Cara this envelope containing a letter written by Sam and pictures of her and her family. I think that this is real, no matter how much I don’t wish it to be, but I think that the angel statues at the house are--”
Merlin’s head was spinning. This was a lot of information to take in. He interrupted, “Hold on…what house? And do you mean Sam’s grandson? How is that possible? She’s not even married yet!”
“The Wester Drumlins house...and yes, Richard said that Samantha Allison - although her married name was Wainwright - was his grandmother. I’ll explain everything on the way to the cemetery. You need to see this.”
Merlin walked beside him, heading in the direction of the cemetery. Before Lancelot could begin his explanation, Merlin informed that he remembered his past human life and that he could control his magic now. He couldn’t very well let important details like that wait after all. Lancelot was happy for him, congratulating him on the event, but he was still tense - his mind more focused on the worrying certainty that his caretaker was truly gone. Merlin couldn’t blame him - he himself would be dreadfully worried if something like this had happened to Arthur.
As they made their way to the cemetery, Lancelot told him that Sam and Cara - her friend who she had been a surrogate mother for, the baby now six months old - had gone to the Wester Drumlins house on a lark. They had only planned to spend their lunch break there, to see if the house was really haunted.
Lancelot had come along because he had been with Sam at the bakery she owned and worked at. Leon hadn’t been feeling too well lately, and he had elected to stay at home. After the women had investigated the house a bit, the doorbell, strangely enough, rang when it shouldn’t have considering this house had been long ago abandoned. Cara had gone to answer the door while Lancelot stayed by Sam while she ventured further into the house. And Lancelot wished that he would have realized that something was not right, not right at all, with this angel statue that had its stone hands covering its face as if it were weeping.
Sam had taken a look at the curious statue, but then she had turned away from it, and she blinked…
And then the angel showed its face, its mouth open and its hand reaching out - eager to grab. Lancelot could do nothing when Sam simply disappeared, a startled gasp escaping her lips as the angel - there was no other explanation for it now - did something to make the woman disappear. Lancelot had remained untouched. The angel had appeared disinterested in the dog and its hands went up to cover its face once more when Lancelot had peered at the statue again.
Feeling understandably unnerved, Lancelot went back to Cara who was talking to the man who had rung the doorbell.
“Sam’s grandson, Richard?” Merlin asked as the two dogs neared the cemetery.
Lancelot nodded. “Yes, and he said that before she died, his grandmother, Sam, told him to come to the house at that exact time to deliver the envelope to Cara. He left not long after - he looked a bit anxious about being there in the first place. Cara read the letter out loud - well, most of it at least - and I almost couldn’t believe what it said, Merlin.”
“What did it say? What happened to Sam?”
“Apparently she landed in the year 1920 - she traveled to the past just like that. The angel must have had magic like you, Merlin. I know you could travel in time, but I wish I had a clue why that angel statue chose to send Sam back in time. I don’t even know if there’s a way to get her back…if events have already taken their course with her having a grandson and everything. And the first person she met in 1920 - Ben Wainwright - was the man she married and had children with. She assured Cara in the letter that she had lived a long and full life even though she hadn’t expected to start anew in the past.”
“That’s tricky… trust me, Lancelot, I would travel to the past to retrieve her in a heartbeat, but Time is a delicate thing. And whatever the angel did - it may not be undone. Sam has already lived her life - if I try to return her to this time, then her children, her grandson will very likely cease to exist. And I worry about the repercussions of playing with Time like that,” Merlin informed him, not liking letting his friend down, but he honestly did feel uneasy with attempting to undo an unknown entity’s work. He didn’t have any knowledge about these angels or how powerful they were and if they even were using magic to ‘attack.’
“Whereas that angel statue could play with Time without a single concern for the life it was ruining?” Lancelot remarked bitterly, feeling angered at this unprovoked snatching of his caretaker.
“I’m really sorry. Look, you could show me the gravestone…and then we’ll check out the Wester Drumlins house. Maybe I could find a way to communicate with the angels,” Merlin offered.
The two of them entered the cemetery and Lancelot led the way to his caretaker’s grave.
The older dog nodded numbly. “All right. I left Cara at Sam’s grave - I think she was in too much shock to notice my departure - but she’s probably already left. I don’t see her anywhere.”
When they arrived at her gravestone, Merlin was startled - despite knowing what he would see, he still couldn’t help it - to find Sam’s name on the grey stone with the years 1899-1979 below her name.
“She lied about her age a bit. Told him she was 21,” Lancelot remarked. “It’s a female thing I’ll never understand,” He said.
“I’m with you there. Lucky she looked young enough to get away with it,” Merlin said as he peered closer at the gravestone.
“Could you - you know - check with your magic to verify it’s really her down there?” The older dog asked him lightly.
Merlin didn’t really want to do so, actually, because he wasn’t sure what he would find. But at Lancelot’s hopeful look, Merlin gave him a nod to tell him he would try.
His eyes flashed gold as he directed his gaze down at the ground before the stone. It only took a minute to make sure that there wasn’t any foul play. But Merlin was absolutely certain that the person six feet under truly was Sam…who had been sent to the past to live out her life. If only she had known how drastically her life would change in the blink of an eye. Still, what was done was done.
He studied the stone again and her engraved name suddenly shifted into different letters. Merlin wasn’t sure if he was going mad or…but the name now read, “Arthur Pendragon.”
Merlin put it down to his fears of Arthur dying and leaving him behind…after all, he had had to live years without him back in the days of Camelot. Rationally, Merlin knew that he would die as a dog before Arthur, the blond easily outliving him; but yet… the fear still gnawed at him.
What the angels Lancelot had encountered were capable of doing didn’t soothe his uneasiness one bit. If Arthur were to be unwillingly sent to the past to live out his life, then who knew what havoc that would cause on his chances of being reborn again?
Before he could dwell on that thought further, an image assaulted his mind.
It was himself, human - in his mid-twenties and not looking that different from how he had looked during those early years in Camelot when he had been Arthur’s manservant. His outfit was more modern than what he had worn in Camelot though. A more aware part of his head told him, “this is the future” and he could only agree. It had to be a future reincarnation, but if it was going to be his next life or one even further along, Merlin was not sure.
His future self was wearing a pale blue collared shirt with a shining, gold silk tie and dark trousers. Sitting in the sand before a beach, his bare toes dug into the white sand. Then the man lifted his head to observe the sky, and a small smile graced his lips as he saw the golden eagle flying overhead.
A pretty blonde woman, a little younger than him maybe, collapsed down beside his future self. She was wearing a purple summer dress, but what struck him most was the golden cross necklace about her neck.
“Oh, there he is,” she said softly, pointing at the eagle.
He turned to her and grinned, and she laid her head comfortably on his shoulder, the familiarity between the two showing through loud and clear.
The eagle landed a few feet away from them, tilting his head at the two as if he were trying to puzzle them out.
“Hello, old friend,” he said quietly as he reached out his hand in invitation.
The bird, still wary, moved forward a few inches in their direction.
His future self looked somewhat amused by the eagle’s guardedness.
He spoke to the woman then. “Alice,” the man began.
But the scene faded away before Merlin could hear what his future reincarnation had been meaning to say.
“Merlin, are you all right? You seemed to be somewhere else for a moment,” Lancelot spoke, his voice breaking Merlin’s unanticipated glimpse into his future or something not far from a very peculiar dream.
“Yes, I’m fine,” he said quickly. “We should go to the house. Bring Guinevere along. She would like it,” Merlin told him.
“And why is that?” Lancelot asked.
Merlin’s eyes twinkled, and he said wryly, “Old house…the rats. She likes to eat rats…and well, Morgana’s currently at work like Arthur, so Guinevere is probably bored stiff now. I can’t leave her out. I thought you enjoyed her company,” he prodded cheekily.
The first time Lancelot had met Guinevere - not long after Merlin had first encountered him and Leon - the cat had complimented Lancelot on his fur…saying it was “nice and looked very soft.”
She hadn’t been sure why she had an attachment to him - similar to how she had reacted to Merlin when he had shown up on Arthur’s doorstep. Still, she found Lancelot intriguing. Meanwhile, Lancelot tried to figure out how to deal with knowing his past human life, particularly his past relationship with her, when Guinevere hadn’t remembered her previous life yet. It was a perplexing friendship to say the least.
“Of course I like being with her,” Lancelot told him as if Merlin were mad for thinking different. “Bit weird still, even after knowing her for months, to find Guinevere as a cat. And she hasn’t remembered yet?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, and by her opinion on the matter - I think she’ll do anything not to remember. She said that she relishes being a cat too much to have her memories of her human life mess that up.”
“If anyone could use sheer force of will to avoid remembering, it would be Guinevere… well, her and Morgana both, honestly,” Lancelot remarked.
Merlin couldn’t help but agree.
And so they went to retrieve Guinevere, who perked up at the opportunity to hunt for rats and other vermin cats were so fond of. She expressed understandable worry about confronting these angel creatures after what they had done. But Lancelot reassured her that the particular angel he had seen hadn’t been interested in him. That maybe it was the sort of creature to threaten humans, but not animals. Merlin said that the best they could do now was make absolutely certain that neither Arthur nor Morgana go anywhere near the house. Guinevere agreed with fervor on that point.
~ * ~
They went on their way to the Wester Drumlins house. Merlin confided in Guinevere that he remembered his human life of centuries past. He had expected her disappointed reaction as she realized that she was the last one left not to be “tied down to some long ago life that had little relevance now” as Guinevere put it. She fretted a bit that if Merlin had recalled his past life, then would that mean she would remember hers too? But then the cat purposefully set aside those worrying thoughts and instead, focused on inquiring if Merlin’s head was all right with all those acorns falling on it.
Merlin assured her that his head was just fine and for the rest of their trip to the house, Guinevere chatted with Merlin while Lancelot contributed every so often. One would think that the cat was flirting with the black dog, but Merlin knew that she was just more comfortable around him. Anyway, they saw each other more often as Arthur and Morgana were family, and Guinevere was still a bit uneasy, shy maybe, around Lancelot.
Merlin could tell that the cat fancied Lancelot, but she didn’t know what to do with those feelings. Guinevere knew Lancelot remembered a past life with her as more than a friend and that made everything so much more awkward and confusing. So Guinevere tried to cope as best as she could. She didn’t shun Lancelot exactly - she was as friendly and polite as ever toward him -- but still there was something integral missing to their interaction. And, Merlin understood now, that something had to be Guinevere remembering - the last thing that the cat wished to do.
~ * ~
Merlin was getting frustrated with the angels - there were three of them in the room - and he was having considerable difficulty trying to communicate with them. All he wanted to know what their agenda was, why they were taking humans like this. But all he received from the otherworldly angel statues was a jarring sense that they were chuckling at him, like they were amused by him.
Their stone hands were always covering their faces as they were frozen in time, forever weeping. It appeared that these three angels would not repeat what Lancelot had seen - none had made the slightest movement against the two dogs and cat. Merlin had to agree with Lancelot’s conclusion that the angels were a danger to humans, certainly not to animals.
But still, if only he could find out a way to communicate with these angels…
“No success?” Lancelot spoke up, seeing Merlin’s disgruntled expression.
Merlin nodded sullenly.
Guinevere was too preoccupied with munching on a freshly caught mouse to notice.
Merlin stared at Guinevere eating for a long moment before a thought hit him.
“It’s food,” Merlin blurted out, beginning to realize what he had been missing.
Lancelot stared at him. “Come again?” He had been lying down, lost in thought, but he lifted his head upon Merlin’s odd declaration.
Merlin sounded considerably excited about his revelation as he voiced his theory. “We consume food to gain energy. But what if, well, food can come in all different forms, right? Maybe these weeping angels get energy from taking people and sending them into the past. It’s their nourishment. They live off this energy, they require it to survive.”
“So, what sort of energy could the angels be consuming from sending people back in time? Time energy or something?” Lancelot guessed.
Before Merlin could answer, Guinevere contributed to the conversation as she was now finished with her food. She explained, “Well, that should be clear, shouldn’t it? Sam should have lived her life in our present, but then the angel took her and took away any chance of her doing that. All the moments that Sam could have had, all the different things she could have experienced in this time will never happen. As she lives from 1920 onward, the angel is feeding off of the life Sam should have lived in our time. She’s living to death…her stolen moments used as food for the angel while she lives her life in the past and dies before she was truly born.”
Looking satisfied with herself, Guinevere proceeded to clean her paws.
Lancelot appeared amazed at her deduction skills.
“But…you don’t remember your past human life…how did you figure that out?” Lancelot wondered.
“Well, just because I don’t remember being a biped does not mean that I lack comprehension skills. And it wasn’t too hard to come to such a conclusion,” Guinevere said smartly.
“You just had to know what was being lost. What is one person’s loss is another person’s gain…” Merlin put in.
Guinevere nodded. “Yes, exactly that.”
Lancelot gave a resigned sigh. “This is why I was never an intellectual.”
Merlin was quick to make the older dog feel better. “But you were a brilliant Knight, Lancelot. Your fighting prowess was legendary. Literally, considering all the texts about you…”
“Thank you, Merlin. I appreciate it,” he told him, accepting his praise. Then Lancelot had to ask, “So if Sam can’t return, could I at least see if she’s all right? Yes, there were the pictures and the letter, but sometimes that’s not enough,” Lancelot gave Merlin a hopeful look.
Merlin shook his head, looking truly apologetic. “It takes a lot of magic for me to time travel and I just traveled in time recently. I need some time to recharge a bit, and considering that I traveled way back to my first life, centuries ago, it will require a good amount of time. And I’m worried that the angels will find a way to retaliate if we visit her. They’ll see it as interfering no matter if we’re not seeking to return Sam.”
“But they’re not interested in us. What do we have that they'd want to retaliate with?” The older dog asked impatiently, his exasperation seeping through.
Guinevere hissed at both of them. “I’d like to know why we’re still discussing this in front of the angels. Next thing you know, we’ll be debating how to kill them and then they’ll definitely retaliate.”
Lancelot huffed. “But we’re not speaking out loud. They don’t seem to be paying attention to anything we say.”
“Guinevere’s right. Just as a precaution,” Merlin agreed.
The three of them left the room and ventured up the stairs. Fortunately, there were no angels in the corridor on the second floor.
“They want humans, and so...” Merlin drifted off, giving him a significant look.
Lancelot understood then. Of course, if the angels managed to snatch Arthur or Morgana, then there’d be hell to pay. And Merlin would do anything in his power to set things right.
But…
“If this were any of us, from Camelot, then you would try harder, wouldn’t you, Merlin?” Lancelot accused in a soft tone. “I know that Sam was just a normal person, not a reincarnation, but she mattered to me. If you could just care enough…”
“I do care!” Merlin exclaimed defensively. “I do, Lancelot. I can’t believe you don’t…I liked her, I truly did! But this is a sensitive matter. Sam has lived her life and there are people’s lives that depend on her living from 1920 onward,” Merlin tried, once again, to make his point. His eyes flashed golden for a moment, his face stricken at Lancelot’s insinuation.
“Then tell me: if this were Arthur, if he had been sent to the past by the angels, then would you act the same way as you are now? Or would you try harder?” Lancelot demanded.
Guinevere stared at each of them in turn, feeling the tension between them. It was palpable.
Merlin growled at him, angered by such a heavy question.
He lifted his head, his blue eyes piercing Lancelot’s dark ones as he answered carefully, “If Arthur’s family, his descendants would be wiped out, then I would act the same. I would not interfere,” Merlin finished.
The older dog’s eyes remained fixed on Merlin’s before he broke his gaze. “All right. I believe you,” Lancelot finally responded solemnly.
Merlin gave a short nod and then he announced, “I’m going to see if I could destroy the angels with magic. Set them on fire, maybe. Otherwise, I’ll have to seal up this house magically so that no human will enter and be food for these angels.”
“Do you think they could be destroyed?” Guinevere wondered, sounding doubtful.
“I don’t know…they’re clearly not human. They’re a chance that they’re immortal and quite possibly beyond any powers I possess. I don’t know what to make of them other than what they prefer to ‘eat’.”
“They could be alien, from another world,” Lancelot offered.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. That makes me even more nervous,” Merlin mused, but he proceeded to go down the stairs anyway. Guinevere followed after him.
“I’ll stay up here,” Lancelot told the other two. “Good luck.”
Merlin and Guinevere nodded at him and went on without him.
~ * ~
“Oh pity. They won’t catch on fire,” Guinevere remarked sadly.
The three angels were left unaffected by the fire Merlin set on them. They still held their weeping positions, barely a twitch from any of them. Merlin did get an even better feeling of their laughter directed at him. The weeping angels clearly thought themselves superior to him. It was infuriating. He had always felt his power, his magic to be uncontested. Despite not grossly flaunting the fact, dealing with these strange alien creatures forced a surge of unwanted inferiority within Merlin.
He did not like feeling inferior at all.
He turned to Guinevere once they had moved away from the angels. “I think Excalibur could take them down, but I can’t access it now, unfortunately.”
Merlin prayed that he wouldn’t encounter more of these angels outside of Wester Drumlins. Otherwise, he’d have to come up with another way to take care of them. Trap the angels somewhere and seal off the enclosure? He’d just have to think of something when the time came, which he sorely wished would never happen.
“Why can’t you access Excalibur?” Guinevere inquired.
“Because I was told by the Lady of the Lake that after King Arthur’s death, Excalibur would only be available when it is truly needed, upon the world’s end. Arthur and I would feel the sword’s presence when such a time is near and we will have need of Excalibur. Only Arthur can wield Excalibur. Only then will the sword be at its full strength. But even if we had Excalibur, these angels may very well send Arthur back in time before he can so much as draw his sword upon them.”
“Oh dear. Yes, Excalibur won’t be much help here, you’re right. Well, as long as we can insure others will be left untouched by the weeping angels…” Guinevere said, trying to keep positive.
Merlin inclined his head. “Yes, that’s the best thing we could do now,” he concurred.
The doorbell rang then surprising both of them.
“Do you think…?” Guinevere asked, wondering if the angels had taken another person and a grandchild was coming to tell them so as Sam’s grandson had done.
But Merlin heard a familiar voice inside his head and he knew who it was behind the door.
“I’ll get the door. You should go back to Lancelot…I’ll be fine, trust me,” Merlin assured her.
Guinevere looked uncertainly at him, but then gave a reluctant nod. “Do you know who it is, Merlin?”
“Yes,” he answered her. “It’s nothing bad, believe me,” Merlin again reassured his friend.
The cat gave him one last scrutinizing look before she left his company.
Merlin went to the door and opened it magically. As he had been told inside his head, his next reincarnation, human, was at the door.
And also, Arthur…well, not his Arthur, but the Arthur from the next life. The pair looked to be in their late teens, college-aged quite likely. If Arthur’s younger appearance didn’t tip the dog off to him being a future Arthur, then his cheeky tight shirt with the words, “Boo, You Whore” imprinted upon it would have been enough to confirm it for him. His Arthur was a little bit more mature than that, at least Merlin would like to think that (though who knew how Arthur was when he’d been at university. Merlin hadn’t been born yet then, so he had little to go on).
The future Merlin was wearing a slightly more respectable dark shirt with the words, “Merlyn” and “Est.: ∞” below the name all emblazoned in gold.
“You do your business, I’ll just continue reading,” Arthur said, pulling out a book out of his pack. From what the dog could see, the book was entitled, “The Road to Avalon” by the author Joan Wolf.
Merlin’s future reincarnation rolled his eyes. “You’re actually following through with the bet?” He said, looking quite bemused. “You do know that Morgana wanted you to read that book so you’d be scarred for life. I should know, I read that one,” He remarked.
“Gods, Merlin. You probably read them all because you’re a dork,” Arthur retorted, grinning at him. “And anyway, I lost the bet. I’m not going to back out now because of how this book twists our story.”
“Everyone believes it to be legend… it’s just another variation,” Merlin said with a sigh, rubbing his brow.
“Except you always seem to be an old man and then this whole thing,” Arthur noted, waving his hand vaguely to explain what he meant by ‘thing’, “would be jailbait.”
The human Merlin looked about ready to shoot back with a well-placed remark, but then Arthur opened the book and started reading the page he left off on.
And so, instead, Merlin knelt down before his past reincarnation, patting him on the head in greeting. “Hey, how are you? I know this is a bit sudden, but we came here for a good reason…” he spoke inside the dog’s mind so that Arthur couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Though Merlin the dog did hear Arthur mutter something about ‘dog whisperers’ before returning his attention to the book.
“The weeping angels - you could be in danger,” Merlin told his future, very human self.
“Oh, don’t worry. I remember them. I made sure to place a shield on Arthur and me so they won’t notice us. Do you mind if we do this outside?” He asked the dog.
Merlin shrugged, acquiescing to his future self’s request. The dog trotted out the door and his human self closed the door behind them.
“Merlin, mind giving me a chair?” Arthur asked the man.
Merlin glared at him. “My magic is not to make you comfortable, you royal prat,” he bit back at him.
Arthur just tilted his head at him. “You know, you’re cute when you’re angry.”
The blond smiled at him deviously and then he moved forward, laying his hand upon Merlin’s pale cheek and kissing him on the lips. He smiled brilliantly afterwards.
With a golden flash of his eyes and snap of his fingers, the human Merlin conjured a chair for Arthur, who sat upon it with a look of smug accomplishment on his features.
“I apologize for the prat’s behavior. This is a bit of a detour for us on our holiday, but I have to do this all the same. And unfortunately, I needed Arthur to come with me,” Merlin informed the dog out loud this time, so that Arthur earned the pleasure of hearing such “loving” compliments being said about him.
Merlin the dog didn’t mind too much. He was quite used to - almost unpleasantly so - Arthur being a bit of a prat. It was in the blond’s blood, he was sure of it.
And so his future self pressed on, continuing to speak out loud. “I’m going to perform the spell to open up the mental communication between you and Arthur. I know how difficult it can be to make this work, so that’s why I’m here to help. And given some time, you should be able to communicate in non-viewing distance too. Once I do this, you should be able to communicate with Morgana as well. It may take a while because we don’t have the bond with her as we do with Arthur, but opening the communication channel now is a good first step.”
“I feel special,” Arthur said glibly, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Oh, shut up. Go back to reading about your incestuous relationship with Morgana,” Merlin retorted, waving his hand at him.
“I think I will,” Arthur told him easily as he licked the tip of his finger and turned to the next page.
“I just remembered today. Arthur doesn’t know yet that I know who I truly am,” Merlin the dog informed him.
“Oh, right… he’s still at work now. Well, he reacts to it well enough as you can imagine. Nice ending to the day,” his future reincarnation told him, speaking mind to mind now rather than out loud. The human appeared thoughtful, looking as if he were doing his best to recall a long ago event.
The dog could only imagine how long ago it could have been for his future reincarnation. Surely it wasn’t 1500 years - like the length of time between his original life and this first reincarnation. By the look of their clothing, shirts and denim, Merlin didn’t think they were that far into the future. A good few decades at least - there was no doubt about that. Maybe his Arthur would grow to be an old man and maybe only a few years would pass between his death and rebirth?
And judging by the future Arthur and Merlin looking quite close to each other in age, they had been lucky to be reborn not too far apart from each other. Merlin the dog couldn’t resist being especially gleeful about seeing this confirmation before his eyes: in the next life, he and Arthur would both be human and about the same age too. How could it get any better than that?
The human Merlin directed his attention to his companion. “Hey, Arthur, do you remember your last life when I told you that I remembered my true identity?”
Arthur stared at him incredulously. “That was ages ago. Do you know how much I have to deal with in my head? You think I remember that?”
“Arthur…” The dark-haired man said slowly, a hint of warning in his tone.
“Hmmm, all right…let me just get rid of some of the dust…” The human Merlin rolled his eyes at the blond’s sarcasm. “All right, yes…it went well. The mental communication thing did wonders. Otherwise it would have taken a little longer for me to catch on,” Arthur remarked.
And then Merlin’s future human reincarnation pulled him up out of his chair. Arthur set his book on the chair seat before he allowed himself to be completely removed. “Come on then. Physical contact, remember?” Merlin pointedly reminded the blond.
“You only want me for my hand,” Arthur retorted, smirking.
He still knelt down beside dog Merlin, placing a hand on his furry head. The dog rubbed against his palm, happy to see him.
With a grin, Arthur couldn’t resist petting him. “Gods, I do miss you as a dog.”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” the human Merlin chimed in.
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? My Arthur now would probably jump up and down in glee if I were human,” Dog Merlin mused to his future self.
His future reincarnation gave him a small smile, agreeing with his remark.
Merlin the dog, feeling especially mischievous, wagged his tail as he pushed Arthur on to his back.
“Hey!” Arthur exclaimed, laughing.
The black dog promptly answered by licking the blond’s face in greeting. “Oi, Merlin. Stop that,” He said almost breathlessly, grinning at the dog all the same. The blond scratched behind the dog’s ears.
The human Merlin smiled at the sight, and then proceeded to utter the words of the mental communication spell.
The dog heard the words of his spell inside his mind and he filed the information for future use. After all, he would have to remember to come back in his next life to do the very same spell.
Upon the spell’s completion, the dog heard a pleasant hum in his mind, a hum that most certainly had not been there before.
“Greetings,” Arthur said silently to him in his mind. The dog could hear the amused tone of Arthur’s voice.
“You can understand me?” Merlin the dog asked, feeling an overwhelming excitement come over him.
“Oh yeah, quite clearly,” The blond replied to him. “The spell has worked, Merlin,” Arthur informed the human Merlin, looking up at him while he continued to pet the dog.
Merlin’s future self smiled, pleased. “Oh good. I knew it would, but checking never hurts. And this should work for all Arthurs, Merlin. So your Arthur should have the same hum in his mind as you do now. When you next see each other, you should be able to communicate with him.”
The dog nodded, taking in his words with a growing cheeriness within him. “Okay. Thank you for doing this.”
“We will always look after each other,” the human Merlin said softly inside his mind. The dog knew that by “we”, his future self meant all Merlins. After all, hadn’t he gone to visit his original self as he lay dying? To comfort him…himself, really.
Arthur’s hands left him as the blond stood up. He moved aside as the human Merlin sat down in front of the dog.
His blue eyes pierced the dog’s own as he silently spoke to him, “You have had the vision of the golden eagle, right? I know it may seem like an odd question, but I want to make sure all is progressing as it should be.”
At the mention of the eagle, the dog's curiosity was peaked. So there was a point to him having that inexplicable vision. “Just today, yes. And I saw me too, well, human me. A future reincarnation…was that you?” Merlin the dog wondered.
The human Merlin shook his head. “He is a future reincarnation, but that wasn’t me. For me, the Merlin you saw will be me in my next life. For you, it’ll be the life after your next one where you’re me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I think so… and there was a blonde woman with future me. They seemed close,” The dog also informed him. He knew quite well that his human self knew all this considering he had had the same vision in his previous life, the dog’s current life. He contemplated when his headache would come. Keeping all of these lives straight was not easy for the dog.
“Alice?” The human Merlin asked him.
Merlin recalled that name from the vision…yes, that was her name, Alice. Merlin told his future self that.
The human nodded at the dog's confirmation. Then he shifted subjects, an apology in his eyes. “Now, I’m truly sorry for this, but you will have to forget Arthur and I were ever here -- at least until your next life. The communication spell will remain intact, of course. The spell was the sole reason why we came to see you. It would do no good to know about your future, Merlin. I understand you may not wish to forget, but you must live your current life fully. You can not focus on what will be, but what is. You must be happy with yourself now even though it pains you that you are distanced from Arthur in such a way.”
“But I like knowing how my next life’ll turn out,” the dog argued. It was one thing to forget something bad, but to have to forget something as good as this was frustrating.
Still, his human self was right, no matter how much he wished he wasn’t. Merlin needed to focus on what he had now and not dwell, wasting away, on his next life. He was happy with Arthur in this life, wasn’t he? Despite the two of them being different species, there were still plenty of things to be grateful for.
“Very well,” Merlin the dog conceded weakly. “Thank you for coming. I’m guessing you won’t expand on the golden eagle vision? Is the eagle Arthur in a future reincarnation? I can’t think of another reason for my future self to address him as an ‘old friend’.”
But the future Merlin only smiled at him cryptically, a look that rivaled the Great Dragon’s.
Well then. Clearly the dog would not receive any more answers.
“Hey, Merlin and Merlin. The silent conversation you two are having is making me feel lonely,” Arthur raised his voice, speaking loudly. He gave the human Merlin a profoundly innocent look when the dark-haired man looked at him sharply.
“All right,” the human Merlin said, standing up. “We’re done, Arthur. We could go.”
“So, skinnydipping in New Zealand then?” Arthur inquired. He flashed the other man a cheeky grin.
Merlin shrugged. “Maybe, we will see,” he said noncommittally, smiling at the blond fondly.
“I know you want to go there as much as I do,” Arthur was quick to say, giving him a pointed look, and then he went to pack up his book.
Merlin made the chair he conjured disappear, and then the two of them were ready to go.
They said their goodbyes to the dog. And when Merlin’s future reincarnation transported himself and Arthur away via his magic, Merlin couldn’t recall why he was outside the entrance to Wester Drumlins.
Yet, he did not feel especially bothered by it. And this hum in his mind, which surely hadn’t been there before, was oddly reassuring and assuaged any worries he may have had. So, with a shrug, Merlin headed back inside the house to see what Lancelot and Guinevere were doing. He knew that he had to seal up the house very soon as it was nearing the time when Arthur would return home.
~ * ~
“Where were you?” Lancelot wanted to know when Merlin returned to him and Guinevere.
“You’ve been gone for half an hour, Merlin,” Guinevere informed him, a concerned look on her face.
“I’m all right. There’s no need to worry,” Merlin told them.
“But where were you?” Lancelot repeated.
“I was just outside the house… I can’t remember why, but that’s not what’s important right now,” he said, trying to change the subject. After all, the sooner he dealt with these angels, the sooner he could return home.
The other dog and cat stared at Merlin like he’d gone mad.
“We need to seal up the house, remember? That should be our priority. And then we have to figure out where Lancelot will live now that, well…” He drifted off, feeling particularly somber at the moment.
“I’ll be fine on my own,” Lancelot said firmly. “I’ve always liked to travel, to see the world.”
“Yes, I know, but I think it’d be best if we all stuck together - you, me, Guinevere, Arthur and Morgana. I’d feel better if you stayed. I’m sure I can get Arthur to take you in if only it’s for you to have a place to sleep when the weather’s bad or something to eat,” Merlin offered him, hoping that the older dog would agree to it.
“And Leon?” Lancelot asked.
“Of course, yes. We could make this work,” Merlin assured him.
Guinevere giggled. “Is Arthur going to come home to find he’s been suddenly entrusted with taking care of two more dogs?” She inquired.
Lancelot told her, “It shouldn’t be much of a big deal. We won’t be any trouble. Leon just lounges and sometimes glares at people when they’re being too loud.”
Merlin nodded at him. “Good, we have--”
But he was unable to finish what he was going to say by the appearance of a golden eagle before them on the second floor landing.
Living to Death: Part 2B