'He is the Once and Future King' is said of Arthur Pendragon in all myths about him. Whether people still believed it or not didn't seem to matter so much any more. And yet, what if it wasn't just a myth? What if there was truth to it?
A day by a lake just like any other day. The sun shining down, only one person to see it that particular day at a particular moment. And something special happened. Something came out of the lake.
Someone.
Dressed just as he had been in death, full armor and a sword in hand, though he kept it point down and away as he shook his head, gasping for breath, looking about in more than just a little confusion. Still, his feet found a path...somehow...trudging through the muck of the lake's shallow water by the shore.
At first, Merlin can't believe his eyes. Really can't, because he's had this dream so many times, how can he possibly know he isn't about to wake up. But it's all so real, the feeling of grass under his fingers, the chill of the wind, the smell of the lake.
He stumbles to his feet and nearly falls over himself in his rush to get down to the water. "Arthur! Arthur!" Tears blur his vision and he blinks them away furiously, not wanting to miss a moment.
He knows he looks different, dressed in modern clothes, but at least he'd returned to his younger age not too long ago. At least his face is one Arthur knows.
The shouting gives him a direction to look to, a familiar voice and face that knock some of the world back into place, though Arthur gives the wizard a sharp look.
"Merlin? What the hell are you wearing?" Yep, focusing on what makes slightly more sense than the fact he should be dead.
But he knows Merlin. So once he reaches dry land, he slowly sheathes his sword, running a hand over wet hair to dry it off a bit.
It doesn't take long for Merlin to reach him, and god, he looks exactly the same as he did when Merlin sent him out on that boat, only healthy and strong and alive again. And he's criticizing Merlin's clothes.
A sob bubbles up in his throat as he reaches him and he throws his arms around Arthur, pressing his forehead against the other man's as he desperately seeks out Arthur's pulse with one hand. "You're here. You're really here." Arthur's told him many times in many ways not to cry over him, but when has Merlin ever listened?
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no subject
A day by a lake just like any other day. The sun shining down, only one person to see it that particular day at a particular moment. And something special happened. Something came out of the lake.
Someone.
Dressed just as he had been in death, full armor and a sword in hand, though he kept it point down and away as he shook his head, gasping for breath, looking about in more than just a little confusion. Still, his feet found a path...somehow...trudging through the muck of the lake's shallow water by the shore.
no subject
He stumbles to his feet and nearly falls over himself in his rush to get down to the water. "Arthur! Arthur!" Tears blur his vision and he blinks them away furiously, not wanting to miss a moment.
He knows he looks different, dressed in modern clothes, but at least he'd returned to his younger age not too long ago. At least his face is one Arthur knows.
no subject
"Merlin? What the hell are you wearing?" Yep, focusing on what makes slightly more sense than the fact he should be dead.
But he knows Merlin. So once he reaches dry land, he slowly sheathes his sword, running a hand over wet hair to dry it off a bit.
no subject
A sob bubbles up in his throat as he reaches him and he throws his arms around Arthur, pressing his forehead against the other man's as he desperately seeks out Arthur's pulse with one hand. "You're here. You're really here." Arthur's told him many times in many ways not to cry over him, but when has Merlin ever listened?