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Arthur was driving through the sunset, throwing a glance at his watch continuously and checking himself in the rear-view mirror every second minute. He couldn’t understand why he was so nervous, but then again, he hadn’t been the best of himself. Arthur knew that now and he was afraid that he would be disappointed in him.
It had been completely coincidental when Arthur had found the article about the small town next to the lake, and the legends surrounding it. Though Arthur now wondered if there was anything in his life such as coincidences, because it was after that day the dreams had started. Dreams about a faraway land in a faraway time of kings and knights on quests against evil. Arthur hadn’t paid them that much attention at first, they were just dreams, right? But they got more and more difficult to ignore, and Arthur actually started to enjoy them. He liked who he was in those dreams. It had taken him pretty many nights to figure out that he was actually the king because he was always right there amongst the other knights, fighting to defend his kingdom, and he felt at home there. Which was more than you could say about him now.
Even though he thoroughly enjoyed himself in these dreams he still had that feeling of missing something, which he had lived with his whole life, until one night about a month ago.
He had woken up in the forest by a fire which in itself wasn’t new, but this time he was alone and that hadn’t ever happened yet. He had always been surrounded by knights.
There had been a sound from the forest and he had pulled his sword trying to see through the darkness. He cautiously took a step forward.
“There is no one there... Arthur.”
Arthur spun around and stared at the old man who now sat next to the fire, stirring in a cauldron. The old man was looking at him with a sad smile. It was that sort of smile someone might wear when they see someone after a really long time when they know things aren’t as they once were.
“Who are you?”
Arthur had yet to put down his sword and the old man lowered his gaze to the cauldron but with the sad smile still in place.
“You knew me once, Arthur.”
“Well, I don’t know you now, do I? Tell me who you are.”
“Sit down and I will tell you everything.”
Arthur still hesitated, whereupon the man heaved a heavy sight.
“You never saw any threat in me, nor should you have had. That has not changed, so sit down.”
Arthur carefully sat down and placed his sword on the ground next to him in case he should need it.
“So tell me then,” He said when the old man continued to stay silent. “Who are you?”
When Arthur woke up the morning after everything was there, all his memories of Camelot and his former life. However there were still one piece missing. A large one. Emrys, the old man’s, words echoed in his head.
“There’s still something you’re not telling me.”
“I’m glad you noticed.”
“What is it?”
“Me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I was born to serve you Arthur Pendragon, and so I did, and so I will. I was destined to wait for you all these years, and so I have.”
“So why can’t I remember you?”
“It is not meant to be. Not yet. I will have to wait some more, until you come to visit me.”
“Where do I find you?”
“You will find me where it all ended and where it all begun.”
“Well that helps. I don’t know where that is.”
“You know, just try to remember.”
So Arthur had. He had searched every memory, new or old, after a place where he though the old man could have hidden for so many years, when he had finally found the old article about the small town as he sorted through his office.
Arthur loosened his tie and opened the car-window to let some fresh air in. He passed another turn in the road and almost lost his breath as he caught sight of his goal. He pulled over outside the town’s pub about ten minutes later. He took another five minutes just breathing outside before he headed inside.
“Hello, do you have any rooms?”
“Sure do, for how long?”
“One night.”
Arthur took the key and paid in advance before he went towards the stairs. Mid-step he changed his mind and stalked back to the bar/reception area.
“I’d like to hear about the legends about this area. Do there live any old men here in town, preferably with a beard, who can tell me about it?”
The few locals at the bar as well as the barman broke out laughing at that. Arthur then took a look around the room to find that most of the locals inside this very pub were old men with beards.
“Will anyone do, or are you looking for a particular one, lad?”
They laughed again. Arthur wanted to sink through the floor, this was so degrading.
“Never mind.” He murmured and hurried u the stairs. It was late and he had a long drive back to London tomorrow. He should’ve known it’d be useless to come here. What had he actually expected to find? Oh right, a bearded sorcerer who once had believed in him. It was all just a children’s story and a stupid dream. That night Arthur fell asleep burning with shame and embarrassment.
“You wanted to hear some of the legends of this region, right?”
Arthur looked up at the barman from last night.
“Yeah, I suppose, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I’m sorry about last night, but you see, you sounded quite ridiculous and with all them fancy clothes. Bound to be joked about, but they meant no harm.”
“None taken.” Arthur just wanted to leave, he didn’t have to be reminded about last night.
“Point is, you were probably looking for old Mr Emrys.
Arthur snapped back to attention. This was it, the old man was here.
“Yes, yes, it has got to be him.”
The barman’s sad smile stole some of Arthur’s enthusiasm.
“Well, then I’m sorry to tell you that he passed away two weeks ago.”
Arthur’s stomach dropped. This couldn’t be happening. The barman however hurried to continue.
“Though his grandkid has moved into his cottage, and he sure knows some stories. It’s just down by the side of the lake. It’s a pity you didn’t come down earlier because he was right here. Nice young chap, I’m sure he’d like to help.”
Arthur nodded numbly.
“Yeah sure, thank you.”
Arthur went out to his car and started to drive south. Though as he turned a corner there were to cars blocking the way as the drivers had stopped to talk in the middle of the road.
“This just isn’t happening.” Arthur muttered and after practically lying on his horn for two minutes, he turned his car around and tried the other way. He drove slowly through the town and ended up driving past the cottage the barman had mentioned. Arthur kept driving for another three minutes before he swore and turned around once again. What the hell was he thinking? He needed to know if Mr Emrys had been the old man from his dreams.
Arthur pulled over next to the cottage and hesitantly went up to the door and knocked. He circled the garden and then tried the door again but without success. Arthur exasperatedly pulled at the doorknob and almost stumbled as the door opened. Arthur stood awkwardly on the porch for another minute before carefully stepping inside. There was a small hallway opening up into a kitchen to the right and a living room to the left. In the end of the hallway was a steep staircase which presumably led to a bedroom. Arthur left the door open as he stepped into the living room. It was filled with old furniture, suitable for a just as old house. The only modern thing was a stereo in a bookcase and a computer that was sat on the coffee table. Arthur went over to the bookcase to look for family albums since there were no pictures anywhere else in the room. He started to look through the titles, most of them in languages he either didn’t know or didn’t recognize. He pulled one book out and started to look through it. Arthur frowned as he found it was full of paintings, most of them portraying scenarios from his dreams.
“Put that down.”
Arthur stiffened, and slowly put the book back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He cut himself short as he turned around and found himself face to face with a young, black-haired tall kid in black jeans and a blue tee who stood staring at him in the doorway. There was something so familiar about him.
“Arthur.”
Arthur’s eyes widened as he met the kid’s eyes and found them to be the deepest blue he’d ever seen with anyone but…
“Merlin.”
Arthur knew the moment he said it that this was right. Melrin’s face split in a happy grin, and Arthur’s knees went weak from emotions running through his body and the final memories falling into place. Merlin took a long step across the room and caught him before he hit the floor, and Arthur desperately grabbed at him in an attempt to hug. Merlin chuckled quietly in his ear as he hugged right back.
“About time, clotpole.”
“Shut up, Merlin.”
Arthur’s face split into an equally big grin and let lose a laugh bubbling with euphoria. It was alright, it was always alright, because Merlin was here and nothing on earth could tear them apart ever again. Arthur was home.