If Wishes were... part 2
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: If Wishes were… part 2
Rating: G
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin
Summary: Magic was still barely there, a low ebb, much as the winter solstice blanketed the earth with darkness. Or the beginning of light.
Word Count: 788
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 486, Solstice
Author's Notes: unbetaed, takes place right after the last scene in Merlin, the one with the truck driving past.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
---------------------------
Rushing to the Lake of Avalon, thinking that Arthur would be standing there, dripping wet, yelling at Merlin for making him wait so long, instead, Merlin found an empty shore, a toppled tower, and silence.
He should have known better. Even with magic seeping back into the world, it was far too slow for Merlin’s mounting impatience. It was true his own powers were growing. Still, coming back to the old cottage he’d occupied centuries before, now mostly-tumbled down, it took all of his energy to rebuilt the roof, seal up the leaks in the walls, and light a fire. Before, in the days of Camelot, he could have done it in a blink of an eye, but those days were long gone.
Huffing, feeling every moment of his long life, he sunk down onto the musty bedroll, and dreamed of a new beginning.
--------------------
The new beginning was still out of reach. Merlin settled back into a kind of waiting game, the same hollow flow of days without end.
Summer finished, Samhain came and went without any sign of his king. Merlin tramped around the lake every day, looking for any sign of Arthur, but all he saw was geese winging southward and the world setting down into winter’s grasp.
He didn’t bother cleaning up much, his heart wasn’t in it, and rather than having people bother him as he walked around the area, he changed his appearance to that of old Dragoon with a knitted cap, a pack on his back.
It worked, too. People mostly left him alone. Even though the local shop owner would exchange a few words, then give up when Merlin didn’t respond. It didn’t matter. Over the centuries, he’d loved and lost so many friends that it just wasn’t worth the effort anymore. So very different from the fool he’d been all those years ago when a young idiot stumbled into Camelot thinking of adventure and magic.
And so it went, days turning colder, the silence growing.
But magic was growing, too. Merlin could feel it pulsing under his feet or in loud birdsong as the sun warmed the air or in the wind rustling through the last of autumn’s leaves. He just hoped he wasn’t losing what was left of his mind, that it wasn’t just a trick to keep himself from going mad.
----------------------
Winter solstice dawned bright and clear. Normally, Merlin would visit one of the stone circles to greet the sun’s rise, an absurd nod to the old ways. It had given him something to look forward to over the centuries. But for the first time in a long, long while, he didn’t think it worth bothering with. Perhaps, it finally got through his stubborn brain that it was just stones and the earth turning as it always did.
Instead, he tramped over to the shop for supplies, and nearly was run over by an impatient truck driver on his way home. Everyone had somewhere to go, it would seem, except Merlin.
He was stuck in the past, in the future, in his destiny, and it all seemed so useless.
Still, he walked down to the lake and sat there, listening to the silence. Not really thinking, not really wanting to face that it had all been for nothing, he let his mind wander a bit, and began shaping the water into frivolous things-a unicorn chasing a butterfly, knights tilting at windmills, garlands of flowers glowing in the morning sun. A vision of Excalibur rising.
Something, anything to keep him from facing the truth.
It didn’t work. As he breathed out, wondering why he even bothered, he let it all go, watching the water splash back down into the blue glow of the lake.
Which was odd.
Blinking, frowning, Merlin stared into its depths. The glow was growing impossibly bright, the water bubbling up, the sound growing louder and more chaotic even as the geese flew overhead.
As Merlin stepped back, there was a sudden impossible flash of brilliance, and when he could see again, from the lake’s shore, a figure rose up.
Naked, dripping wet, powerful, and beloved.
It was Arthur. It was Arthur.
And as he stumbled onto the shore, Arthur roared at him, “Dragoon? Where is Merlin? What have you done with him?”
Panicking that Arthur didn’t remember him, Merlin lurched forward, his long hair whipping across his face. Shit, he was still in his Dragoon disguise. But in the flash of an eye, with a whispered spell, he changed back to his younger self.
“Merlin, you idiot. You were Dragoon?” As Merlin nodded, wrapping his blanket around a shivering Arthur, the prat glared at him. “What the hell took you so long?”
Title: If Wishes were… part 2
Rating: G
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin
Summary: Magic was still barely there, a low ebb, much as the winter solstice blanketed the earth with darkness. Or the beginning of light.
Word Count: 788
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 486, Solstice
Author's Notes: unbetaed, takes place right after the last scene in Merlin, the one with the truck driving past.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
---------------------------
Rushing to the Lake of Avalon, thinking that Arthur would be standing there, dripping wet, yelling at Merlin for making him wait so long, instead, Merlin found an empty shore, a toppled tower, and silence.
He should have known better. Even with magic seeping back into the world, it was far too slow for Merlin’s mounting impatience. It was true his own powers were growing. Still, coming back to the old cottage he’d occupied centuries before, now mostly-tumbled down, it took all of his energy to rebuilt the roof, seal up the leaks in the walls, and light a fire. Before, in the days of Camelot, he could have done it in a blink of an eye, but those days were long gone.
Huffing, feeling every moment of his long life, he sunk down onto the musty bedroll, and dreamed of a new beginning.
--------------------
The new beginning was still out of reach. Merlin settled back into a kind of waiting game, the same hollow flow of days without end.
Summer finished, Samhain came and went without any sign of his king. Merlin tramped around the lake every day, looking for any sign of Arthur, but all he saw was geese winging southward and the world setting down into winter’s grasp.
He didn’t bother cleaning up much, his heart wasn’t in it, and rather than having people bother him as he walked around the area, he changed his appearance to that of old Dragoon with a knitted cap, a pack on his back.
It worked, too. People mostly left him alone. Even though the local shop owner would exchange a few words, then give up when Merlin didn’t respond. It didn’t matter. Over the centuries, he’d loved and lost so many friends that it just wasn’t worth the effort anymore. So very different from the fool he’d been all those years ago when a young idiot stumbled into Camelot thinking of adventure and magic.
And so it went, days turning colder, the silence growing.
But magic was growing, too. Merlin could feel it pulsing under his feet or in loud birdsong as the sun warmed the air or in the wind rustling through the last of autumn’s leaves. He just hoped he wasn’t losing what was left of his mind, that it wasn’t just a trick to keep himself from going mad.
----------------------
Winter solstice dawned bright and clear. Normally, Merlin would visit one of the stone circles to greet the sun’s rise, an absurd nod to the old ways. It had given him something to look forward to over the centuries. But for the first time in a long, long while, he didn’t think it worth bothering with. Perhaps, it finally got through his stubborn brain that it was just stones and the earth turning as it always did.
Instead, he tramped over to the shop for supplies, and nearly was run over by an impatient truck driver on his way home. Everyone had somewhere to go, it would seem, except Merlin.
He was stuck in the past, in the future, in his destiny, and it all seemed so useless.
Still, he walked down to the lake and sat there, listening to the silence. Not really thinking, not really wanting to face that it had all been for nothing, he let his mind wander a bit, and began shaping the water into frivolous things-a unicorn chasing a butterfly, knights tilting at windmills, garlands of flowers glowing in the morning sun. A vision of Excalibur rising.
Something, anything to keep him from facing the truth.
It didn’t work. As he breathed out, wondering why he even bothered, he let it all go, watching the water splash back down into the blue glow of the lake.
Which was odd.
Blinking, frowning, Merlin stared into its depths. The glow was growing impossibly bright, the water bubbling up, the sound growing louder and more chaotic even as the geese flew overhead.
As Merlin stepped back, there was a sudden impossible flash of brilliance, and when he could see again, from the lake’s shore, a figure rose up.
Naked, dripping wet, powerful, and beloved.
It was Arthur. It was Arthur.
And as he stumbled onto the shore, Arthur roared at him, “Dragoon? Where is Merlin? What have you done with him?”
Panicking that Arthur didn’t remember him, Merlin lurched forward, his long hair whipping across his face. Shit, he was still in his Dragoon disguise. But in the flash of an eye, with a whispered spell, he changed back to his younger self.
“Merlin, you idiot. You were Dragoon?” As Merlin nodded, wrapping his blanket around a shivering Arthur, the prat glared at him. “What the hell took you so long?”