Fic: Nothing Has Changed (8b/8) ~ The Final Chapter ~

[dk323]

Previous: Part 8a

~ * ~

November 2008

In the future, it was early evening judging by the sky still being light, but slightly darkening as the sun began to set. Merlin barely had time to think that this was just like his vision. The loud almost overwhelming mix of sounds, all the light, and the people…

He was nearly blinded by the light directly in his line of sight. Merlin didn’t know what to do when a fast-moving means of transport was heading his way. He had never seen such a metal wheeled transport before. But this was the future, so that was to be expected, of course, he knew.

“Hey! Move on to the pavement, to your right!” Someone shouted a warning just like in his vision.

Unsettled and afraid of getting hit, Merlin quickly stepped to the side and moved to the pavement where people were walking along. Storefronts it looked like with different names lined the street. The wheeled transport that had been about to hit him made a loud screeching sound as the driver aimed to stop the wheels from moving. It was a very irritating sound to Merlin’s ears. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Then he nearly jumped when someone clapped him on the shoulder.

“Sorry about that. It’s good to see you, Merlin. It’s me,” the man greeted him.

He was the same man who had shouted the warning to Merlin. “Arthur, I know,” Merlin finished for him, remembering what his future self had told him. That he would meet a reincarnated Arthur in this future year.

Though this Arthur was almost thirty, wore different clothing and his physical appearance subtly changed, Merlin was convinced that he was a future incarnation of his Arthur. He just had this undeniable feeling of the blond man’s identity and he trusted that instinct. Merlin considered that it may be partially his magic assuring him that this person was truly Arthur.

“My future self told me you’d be here. Thanks for the warning. What did I almost get hit by?” Merlin couldn’t help but ask in curiosity.

Arthur laughed -- the same laugh Merlin recalled from his vision. It was a carefree laugh, of a man happy with his life.

Since people were giving them strange looks, Arthur steered Merlin away to a quieter spot in an alleyway between two stores. “That was a vehicle. It’s a modern invention – a means of transportation. I promise you that you won’t get hit by another one. That was rotten luck that you came through the portal out on the road. I’ll take you to where you’ll be staying, which is my house.”

“All right. Will we be riding in one of those vehicles?” Merlin deduced.

“Yes, unfortunately… one of the best ways to get around these days. It won’t be too long of a ride though. And it’s probably a wise idea not to take the Tube,” Arthur indicated, frowning.

“The tube?” Merlin questioned, wondering what in the world that was.

“Maybe another time. I should stop that,” Arthur decided. He rubbed the back of his head. “Telling you things you’re unfamiliar with is just going to confuse you further. Maybe tomorrow once you get some rest and a little more acclimated.”

“I’d have to agree with that,” Merlin said easily.

Arthur smiled at him, and then he led the way to the car park, he explained to Merlin.

They climbed into Arthur’s sleek-looking slate grey vehicle. Both of them sat up front with Arthur in the driver’s seat, of course. Arthur was about to tell Merlin how to put on the seatbelt, but Merlin figured it out quickly on his own.

Merlin grinned at him. Arthur gave a resigned sigh. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m sure you’ll catch on more quickly than the average person from your time… I mean you’re you after all. You’re Merlin,” he said, though his explanation didn’t seem much like one.

But Arthur’s words did help Merlin feel better about the extraordinary situation he had been placed in. He possessed magic after all – and the level of his magical abilities had been considered extraordinary, not that he was one to boast, but it was the irrefutable truth. Surely he could make due in a world centuries into his future?

“Thanks. That is, if you meant that as a compliment,” Merlin said tentatively.

Arthur gave him a small smile. “I did,” he reassured him as he turned the car on and pulled out of his parking spot.

“I think Merlin – future you I mean – will see you tomorrow. So you’ll have plenty of time to get settled. Hopefully my place will pass your inspection,” Arthur joked.

“We’ll see about that,” Merlin quipped back with a smile. He was feeling more comfortable now as he and Arthur bantered back and forth. It felt familiar and nice… Merlin’s confidence continued to grow.

Only a few minutes into their drive, that man – Will Stanton according to his future self – appeared in the car’s backseat.

Merlin was impressed that Arthur hadn’t been startled enough to lose control of the steering wheel. Maybe Arthur was used to this sort of sudden appearance while driving his car?

“Hi, Arthur. It’s good to see you, Merlin. I’m Will,” he introduced himself. He held out his hand to him and Merlin shook it.

“Will Stanton, right?” Merlin assumed.

“That it is,” Will said with a nod. “Just call me Will.”

“It’s Professor Will Stanton,” Arthur couldn’t resist saying.

“Yes, well, there’s that,” Will acknowledged.

“The older Merlin told me about that. A professor at a university? Is a university a higher level of education then? It sounds like it would be…”

“Yes, students typically are ages eighteen and over when they head to university. I teach languages: ancient and modern.”

“As an Old One, Will knows every language known to man. I think he was taking the easy way out with his study of choice,” Arthur teased.

“There are things that even I don’t know. I can’t help that I found languages a particularly interesting area of study. Always best to do something you enjoy, don’t you think, Merlin?”

Merlin nodded. “I can’t argue with that.”

“Two against one. I surrender,” Arthur declared with a grin to Merlin.

“Anyway, so my eldest brother Stephen invited me to the Stanton Christmas gathering he’s hosting in a month’s time. Christmas is a few days after Midwinter. It’s basically a winter holiday centered around gift-giving and spending time with family,” Will explained for Merlin’s benefit. “I was thinking that you’d like to come, Merlin? My family doesn’t know about my being an Old One…”

“They just think you’re a bit different…” Arthur added.

“Yes, that’s true. You don’t have to worry about any awkwardness – we’ll set you up with a story that won’t seem odd considering your true time period. My family, bless them, is very accepting and will welcome you easily. They’re just fine with how I sometimes act – like I’m older and wiser than my years -- though my mum wishes I’d see the family more. One warning though is it could be chaotic on Christmas – in a good way, mind you. I have a lot of siblings. And well, now, nieces and nephews too.”

Merlin raised his brow. “How many siblings do you have then?”

“It’s five brothers and three sisters, isn’t it, Will?” Arthur responded instead.

Merlin let out a breath. That was one big family.

“Yes. I’m the youngest of all of them. And I’m also the youngest Old One,” Will informed him.

“If you brave a big holiday celebration with Will’s family, then you could survive anything,” Arthur joked.

“Oh just keep your eye on the road, Arthur,” Will said to him in mild exasperation.

Arthur chuckled.

“Did you go to one of these celebrations?” Merlin asked Arthur.

“No, I’ve just heard horror stories.” Arthur informed with him with a sly grin.

“Look who isn’t helping here,” Will said flatly. “It’ll be fine, trust me, Merlin. Most everyone will be occupied with asking me about Bran. Also my birthday is on Midwinter, so then I expect more attention on me since I won’t be spending that day with my family. Truthfully, I feel too old for birthdays – and anyway, with mine being so close to Christmas, it doesn’t seem worth celebrating the occasion,” he confessed, though he sounded a bit sad about the fact his birthday was overshadowed by the Christmas holiday.

“We’ll throw you a party for your birthday, Will,” Arthur offered. “Some alcohol and good friends. We’re in for a wild night.”

“I’m already dreading it,” Will said in a tone of mock-concern.

“I’d be interested in going to the Christmas celebration,” Merlin told him. No harm done, right? And with it being a month away, that was enough time for him to prepare for the ‘chaotic’ event. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

Will shook his head, looking pleased at Merlin’s agreement. “Oh no. It’s no trouble at all. You’ll have a good time.”

Then Merlin just realized that Will had mentioned someone he didn’t know – Bran? Who was he?

“Wait. Who’s Bran?” Merlin asked Will. “Should I know him?”

“Ah, I was hoping to wait a little longer,” Will said.

“You should just tell him now, Will. Won’t hurt,” Arthur advised him, his eyes still on the road.

“All right,” Will agreed resignedly. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you some of it…or I’ll show you, rather. That would be best. Here,” Will pulled out a picture from his wallet.

“This is Bran,” Will gave a name to the pale man in the picture. Bran was literally drained of color except for the rather golden eyes he possessed. Merlin couldn’t quite resist his gasp of shock at seeing just a picture of such a person. “Yes, he really looks like that. He’s an albino. It’s a condition he was born with. Surprisingly, that’s not the most revealing thing about him, but there you go. You’ll be meeting him, so it’ll be wise to know about him ahead of time.”

“Are his eyes really that color?” Merlin wondered, unable to hide the incredulity in his voice. “It’s nearly the same when I do my magic.”

“Yes, they are…more tawny than golden, but he’s not a sorcerer like you. His eye color is just another side effect of his albinism. They certainly are startling, but you’ll get used to Bran since you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

“Okay. So I’m assuming he’s your friend?” Merlin deduced, judging by the picture of Bran. The pale man looked about the same age as Will.

At Merlin’s remark, Arthur coughed loudly.

“Nevermind, Arthur,” Will said quickly.

Merlin saw Arthur’s mouth twist into an amused smile. Merlin got the sense that maybe this Bran was more than a friend to Will going by Arthur’s amused reaction.

“He’s a very close friend of mine,” Will told him. “We’ve been friends since we were eleven. My family believes that I haven’t settled down and gotten married is because something’s going on between Bran and me. And I want to take things slow, according to them.”

“And is there something going on between you and Bran?” Merlin questioned.

Arthur spoke up, “Is my hair blond?” As if that would suffice as the answer to Merlin’s inquiry.

“Bran and I are simply close. I suppose you could say we’re together,” Will conceded, to appease Arthur most likely. “--so we’ll leave it at that. I could show you Bran’s birth parents. I believe you’ll find one of them familiar.”

“All right,” Merlin agreed. He was intrigued about what could be more startling about Bran than the man’s colorless physical appearance.

Will placed his hand on top of Merlin’s, which was still touching the picture of Bran.

Then Merlin saw a vision. He saw a man and woman sitting upon thrones. He knew that they could be nothing else than a King and a Queen.

And Will was right. The man was familiar to Merlin. He was the same man – that Lord of the High Magic that Merlin had met while with his older self. But now the man had a golden crown on his head. The woman was a stranger to Merlin. She was small and very pretty with fair skin, dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. She looked the picture of a Queen, and her smile was radiant.

So these were Bran’s birth parents? Merlin just knew there was more to the story. He did recall that Lord asking his older self how his son was…that since the Lord had passed on, he was unable to see his son in the flesh. Was Bran that son?

The vision shifted in his mind’s eye.

Now he saw the future version of him with that same Queen. She was carrying a baby in her arms. Merlin could see how pale, how unusually drained of color the baby was, and he didn’t doubt that this was Bran. Bran’s birth parents were royalty – that was indisputable.

“I’m sorry for putting you in this position, Merlin,” the Queen apologized, her tone desperate. She looked distraught. “I can’t bear Bran to be caught in the middle of Arthur’s enemies discrediting our child’s right to the throne of Camelot. I have betrayed my King, Old One, but you know – you do not doubt it – Bran is Arthur’s son. He is the rightful heir to Camelot.”

His older self took the baby from her as the Queen collapsed to the forest ground. “I never… it could never be Launcelot’s. I swear. I know how dear Arthur is to you, Merlin… how you mentored him from a young age. I am so sorry,” she said tearfully.

The older Merlin looked sympathetic, but a little grim as well. He sat down in front of her, the baby still cradled in his arms. “My Lady, Bran’s fate shall not lie in Camelot. Arthur will be denied a chance to see his son grow, to even know his son exists for a time – all due to your betrayal. But I see in your eyes that you feel remorseful for your actions. It is a shame that it happened. But what is done is done. Bran will be taken centuries into the future, to be raised there and free of the politics of Camelot.”

“Where will he live? Who will care for Bran?” The Queen asked him earnestly. She took her child back into her arms. She smiled down on him and kissed Bran on his white brow.

“It will be in rural Wales. I know just the person who will care for him and who will love him as you do. And when the time is right, one of my kind, a fellow Old One, will aid him and be a friend to him. Rest assured that your son will be protected,” his future self told her gently.

“Thank you, Old One. Thank you,” she said, though she still looked particularly sad. As any mother would if she had to give her baby away no matter the well-meaning reason.

Then Merlin saw the vision change to just a piece of paper…

It said:

His name is Bran. Thank you, Owen Davies.

Then that was all.

As if knowing exactly what Merlin had seen, Will added, “Owen Davies was Bran’s adoptive father until he passed away a year ago. Owen cared for him as if Bran was his own son. Bran’s mother – Queen Guinevere that is – only stayed with Owen for three days and then she had to leave. The future you returned her back to her time, back to Camelot. The only part of her she left with Owen Davies is that note and well, Bran.”

“And that King Arthur? I saw him as a Lord of the High Magic. I don’t understand. How could there be another Arthur and another Camelot?” Merlin wanted to know.

Arthur answered his question here. “It’s an alternate version of me. I know – a lot to take in with you being in the future. Now you just have to accept that there is an alternate reality where there’s another me, another Camelot…”

Merlin was beginning to realize something. “So when my older self told me about my having other duties after advising the past version of you, he was referring to this other Arthur. Who I mentored since he was young going by the vision.”

Merlin wondered how he would survive advising not one, but two Arthurs. At least he wouldn’t have to advise them at the same time. Small blessing there, that.

Will smiled quietly. “Yes, you have it,” he confirmed.

“And then the Old One my older self talked about was you? The one who would help Bran?” Merlin guessed, looking to Will.

“That’s right,” Will confirmed.

Arthur added, “Basically, Will is Merlin to Bran’s Arthur. That shouldn’t be too hard to remember,” he told Merlin with a wink.

“That makes sense,” Merlin reasoned.

Will agreed, and then he said he had to go – something about papers to grade – and he disappeared from the backseat after saying his goodbyes.

Then Merlin couldn’t help but yawn. He was starting to feel rather tired.

“We’re in luck,” Arthur announced, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. “We’re home.”

As Merlin peered at Arthur’s two-storied home, he hoped there was a good comfortable bed for him to sleep in.

That would be just brilliant.

~ * ~

Christmas Day 2008

So the day came when Merlin, Will and Bran traveled to Will and Bran's reality to attend the Christmas gathering with Will's family.

They went to Will’s oldest brother’s house. Although it wasn’t exactly a house. More so, it was a proper mansion as Will’s brother Stephen had apparently done well for himself. He had three children with his wife, Clara.

“I’m sorry for having you both carry all those presents,” Will said apologetically as they climbed out of the car.

Each of them carried a handful of gifts.

Bran quipped, “While it’s tempting to see you fall over with the presents, I think in the name of the holiday spirit, it’s no problem at all.”

Will gave him a half-smile. “Thanks, Bran.”

“I made the presents lighter so they’d be easier to carry,” Merlin declared. “That helps, I hope?”

“It’s a good thing too. I think Will sometimes tries to be as average as possible that he forgets he even has magic,” Bran informed Merlin

“Yes, admittedly that can be true,” Will confessed.

He looked sheepish, his cheeks reddening though that might have been more due to the cold outside than anything else. A light snow was coating the world around them. It was a white Christmas this year.

Will knocked on the door. “Ready?” He asked the both of them.

They both nodded except Merlin wasn’t quite able to rid his feeling of trepidation at being thrust into such a situation. But it was ridiculous, really. It was only a holiday celebration. They had had plenty of feasts and banquets in Camelot. Though it hadn’t been quite the same as he had only been a manservant, and therefore, he was essentially invisible to everyone but his fellow servants and no one paid him any mind. As long as he had made sure Arthur had enough drink and food, then that was good enough.

But here, with Will’s family and relatives, Merlin had to keep to a cover story and make sure he was comfortable in this time centuries removed from his own. After a month in this future time, Merlin felt he was getting used to this different time and all the commonplace things he had to be aware of. His older self and Arthur were helpful with insuring he had the knowledge he needed to navigate his way around. And for that, he was grateful.

Stephen and his wife Clara answered the door.

“Will! You came,” Stephen said, pleased. He embraced him. “It’s good to see you. Merry Christmas,” Stephen said cheerfully. “And you brought Bran.”

“What better way to spend the holiday than with family?” Will said logically, smiling. “Merry Christmas, Stephen, Clara.”

“Merry Christmas to all of you,” Clara said. “Here, let me help you with the gifts,” she offered.

She took the bag of presents Will was carrying out of his hands.

She and Bran moved to place the gifts underneath the tall Christmas tree. Bran took the gifts Merlin was carrying as well. All around them, the house was bustling with people and music filled the air. Merlin noticed two twin brunette girls playing a duet on the piano with one of Will’s brothers – Paul he believed based on the photos Will had shown him – playing the flute.

“Yes, and this is Merlin,” Will introduced him. “I told you about him.”

“It’s nice to finally meet in person, Merlin,” Stephen acknowledged, shaking Merlin’s hand in a solid grip.

Merlin had been told by Will that Stephen was in the Royal Navy. He could tell from his collected and confident demeanor that he was the type of man who would be a good friend to anyone. He could understand why Will admired Stephen when he was younger.

“I’m glad to meet you too,” Merlin said sincerely.

With a parting nod to him, Stephen left to mingle with the other guests. Clara smiled at Merlin, saying, “How do you do?” and she wished him a Merry Christmas. She went to talk to one of Will’s sisters – Gwen – it looked like.

Then James – the brother who was only a year older than Will – approached them. “Ho ho ho, Will’s brought his Welsh ‘friend’ along,” James remarked, placing a stress on ‘friend’ as if he knew perfectly well that Bran was not just a friend. “Still think the Welsh are superior?” He joked with Bran.

Having finished with placing the gifts, Bran looked to James, rolling his eyes. “I don’t think that, James. It’s a fact. The Welsh are clearly superior,” he declared in such a self-assured tone that it was hard not to believe him.

“Oh you two. I knew it was dangerous bringing Bran here,” Will commented dryly, shaking his head.

“Come here, Will. I thought you’d gotten lost in your books, you Master Linguist,” James teased him and he pulled Will to him for a hug.

“Haha,” Will commented dryly. “Good to see you, James.”

“And I want to wish you a proper Happy Birthday. Did you have a good party?”

Will nodded. “Yes, I went to the pub with Bran. Some colleagues from work came too.”

Merlin had been at Will’s birthday party a few days ago, of course. He had spent most of his time talking with Arthur. His future self had participated in involved discussions on history, politics and the like with some of Will’s colleagues. Arthur was all too happy with getting Merlin to taste a bunch of drinks and foods that Merlin had never tried before.

He recalled Will and Bran disappearing midway into the party, and he had informed Arthur of the occurrence.

Arthur had joked that it looked like Will had kidnapped Bran again, but he assured him that the pair would turn up soon enough. And they did, about half an hour later. Merlin had asked where they had gone, and Will told him they were just visiting an old friend.

Now for Christmas, his future self and Arthur had gone to spend the holiday with Arthur’s family – that is, his father, sister and her family. Arthur had indicated to Merlin that it’d be rather dull, and he wouldn’t like it, which had resulted in Merlin’s future self rolling his eyes.

Merlin returned his attention to the conversation at hand as James looked to him. “And this must be your friend Merlin. It’s good to meet you finally,” he declared, shaking Merlin’s hand.

“Hello. Nice to meet you too,” Merlin said. He returned the handshake.

“So were your parents lovers of Arthurian legend?” James asked Merlin. “I think a friend of Will’s was a bit of an Arthurian fanatic. The Drews, remember? The youngest one, the artist? What was his name, Will?”

“Barney, Barney Drew,” Will answered with a small, somewhat somber smile. “But I think after all these years, he has outgrown that particular love.”

Merlin had learned about the existence of Arthurian legend in this future time. How there were variations of the tale of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, his marriage to Guinevere and her betrayal with Arthur’s First Knight; and most importantly to him, how Merlin the sorcerer advised Arthur. None of the variations were close to how Merlin had lived it so far. This suited him just fine since he didn’t know how he’d take strangers writing about him, and maybe even managing to capture his innermost thoughts. It felt like too much of an invasion of privacy. He wasn’t ready for that.

James shook his head. “I’m sure he gets nostalgic sometimes,” he declared, undeterred. “So am I right, Merlin? Are you named after the legendary wizard?” He asked him again.

“Yes,” Merlin said with a shrug. In a way, it was sort of true. He never actually asked his mum why she had named him Merlin. It could have been after the Merlin falcon, but Merlin wasn’t completely sure. “It was more so my mum than my dad. My dad just went along with it,” he lied as smoothly as he could.

“Ah, yes wise man,” James remarked. “Same with my wife Katherine…best to just agree with her than deal with a row that she usually wins.”

“You’re forgetting the bird, James,” Will added. “A Merlin falcon.”

“But really do people see Merlin and first think of the bird?” James retorted.

Will shrugged. “I’m just pointing it out. Bran is Welsh for raven. Perfect example of a person sharing a name with a bird.”

“Yes, I have trouble getting ravens away from me,” Bran added dryly. “I used to be called, ‘raven boy’ when I was a lad,” he confided, and he and Will exchanged meaningful looks.

“Didn’t know you had an affinity with ravens,” James said thoughtfully. “I always knew something was off about you…associating with a bird of death, Bran…mind you, they are fiercely clever birds,” James amended.

Bran was unaffected. “Like you said, bird of death ravens may be, but they are clever. That’s what counts,” he said almost defiantly, a touch of arrogance in his voice.

Since meeting Bran, Merlin could easily see Bran being the son of Arthur – true, it wasn’t the Arthur Merlin knew well, but still, he didn’t doubt there were some similarities from the little he’d seen of Bran’s birth father. Bran almost carried himself with a regal bearing, which was understandably eerie as Bran had grown up as the son of a Welsh farmer. It was like a part of his birth parents was always with him, no matter if Bran had never been raised as royalty.

“What about you, Merlin? Had any close encounters with a Merlin falcon?” James asked him.

“Actually no,” Merlin said truthfully. He had seen other birds of prey, of course, but he had never seen a Merlin. Well, yet at least. He was sure he’d encounter one eventually. “But I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have a connection with them. I’m open to anything.” He grinned, playing along.

James clapped him on the shoulder. “I think I’m going to like you, Merlin.”

Then Will’s sisters – Barbara and Mary – came by, and after quick introductions, they nearly accosted Will and led him into the kitchen. Apparently they had baked him a proper birthday cake and since Will had declined to celebrate his Midwinter birthday with them, he would have to celebrate it now, no protests. And that was that.

Bran looked amused as Will let himself be taken away. He said as an aside to Merlin. “This is why Will doesn’t see his family as often now. Hopefully he’ll get out of here alive,” he said in mock-concern.

Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle. Will’s sisters – especially Mary who had hair as golden as Arthur’s – were both considerably ‘energetic’ to put it politely when he was introduced to them.

“Will’s made of sturdy stuff. He can manage, I’m sure,” James contributed with a smile. “I should see what Katherine is up to,” he then said, departing with a nod at the both of them.

“Hey Bran!” Paul called to him, having stopped playing his flute. “Did you bring your harp? I think we have one here that you could use. We’d love to have you play. You’re the only one here who’s a natural at it.”

“I have my harp. I’ll go get it,” Bran told him.

Merlin stayed behind as Bran left to get his stringed instrument. Paul introduced himself to Merlin and then to his twin daughters, Elizabeth and Lily.

By the end of his time at the Stantons’, Merlin had decided that it’d been one of his best Christmases. Nevermind that it had been his first proper Christmas, his point still stood.

~ * ~

One Year Later: Autumn

A year later, Merlin returned to his time with Luna’s help. He smiled as he saw the leaves on the trees changing color, the mark of autumn upon the forest was a welcome sight. It was early afternoon.

Merlin carried a pack with him of little things from his time in the future. He knew he had to make sure to keep these possessions protected. It wouldn’t do for anyone getting a hold of something from the future. He had been uncertain about taking anything from the future, but his older self had assured him that it was fine. And he had given him some useful magical spells to insure the security of the items.

He only had to walk through the forest a few minutes before he saw Arthur approaching him.

Archimedes, the silver and blue phoenix, flew beside Arthur. While Merlin was aware of Archimedes, his future self had informed him that it would be best that he truly begin to develop a bond with the phoenix back in his own time, back in Camelot.

Merlin grinned, thankful to see his Arthur again. Because no matter how much he had enjoyed his time with Arthur’s reincarnated self, it just wasn’t the same as with the Arthur he had first met in Camelot. He knew that the two of them had many years ahead of them to establish the golden age of Albion. Merlin looked forward to every moment of their time together.

Simply put, there was no better place than home.

As soon as Arthur closed the distance between them, he embraced Merlin.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Arthur told him almost breathlessly, he sounded so grateful and relieved to have Merlin finally return. “I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I had to go through another full year without you. One year was long enough.”

Merlin smiled. He returned the embrace heartily, feeling relief sweep over him as he touched Arthur, felt and heard his heart beating. It gave him undeniable proof that Arthur had managed to survive in his absence against magical attacks.

Pulling away from Arthur, he told him self-assuredly, “I don’t doubt you would have coped one way or another.”

“Yes, I suppose I would’ve been able to manage,” Arthur conceded. “Still I’m glad I don’t have to.”

Then he introduced Archimedes – who had been patiently perching on a branch of a nearby tree – to Merlin.

“Hello, Archimedes,” Merlin silently communicating with the bird.

“Arthur looked after me very well,” Archimedes silently confided in him. “Though I couldn’t wait to see you, Merlin, and meet you properly. Welcome back.”

Merlin smiled, happy to hear Archimedes was doing well. He held out his arm for the phoenix and Archimedes flew over to land on Merlin’s forearm. Then he scaled his arm until he reached a comfortable perch on Merlin’s shoulder.

Arthur appeared pleased about Merlin finally meeting his phoenix.

“It’s good you came too,” Arthur declared. “I was wondering how long I would have to delay my coronation. I want you to be there, of course.”

Merlin’s smile to Arthur was blinding. “You’re King now? That’s great news, Arthur. Well, I know that means your father has died, and I’m sorry about that; but finally you can make things right. Magic will be allowed in Camelot once again…”

Arthur nodded. “I’m hoping to lift the magic ban as soon as I can. I have to get officially crowned first. I’m surprised neither Will nor Bran told you the latest news. They visited me after my father’s death after all.”

Merlin shrugged. “I think they thought it would be better for me to hear it straight from you. It doesn’t matter. I thought I was happy enough just to see you again, but hearing about your kingship now has made me even happier.”

Unable to restrain himself, Merlin moved to kiss Arthur on the lips.

Arthur returned the gesture, cradling the back of Merlin’s head with one hand as he applied more pressure to the kiss, and then easing his tongue into Merlin’s mouth. Merlin obliged him.

“Welcome home, Merlin,” Arthur said to him after the kiss.

Merlin smiled quietly at him, stroking Arthur’s cheek in response. With Archimedes upon his shoulder, and Arthur with him once again, Merlin had never felt so content, so at peace with the world.

“Nothing has changed, Arthur,” Merlin declared solemnly.

Arthur looked at Merlin questioningly.

So he clarified, “What I mean is that I still love you so much, I think my heart aches with it sometimes.”

Arthur smiled softly at him, his expression holding an unspoken, sincere affection directed toward Merlin. “Then rest assured that you’re not alone there, Merlin.”

~ * ~ The End ~ * ~