Chapter One

Questions

After Merlin's amusement had passed they began the trek to wherever Merlin was living these days. They were currently walking alongside something which Merlin assured him was a road. To which Arthur had responded by reminding Merlin that he wasn't an idiot and, despite the different surface material and lines painted on it, he would have been able to deduce that himself. The unusual aspects of their surroundings didn't prevent Arthur from noticing slight awkwardness about their journey. Normally Merlin would be rambling endlessly about something or another and just generally being an idiot. But right now he was just walking… in silence.

Well, that was until he suddenly wasn't walking anymore. Merlin had suddenly stopped completely still and was now staring at Arthur.

"Ah"

"Ah? What exactly are you ah-ing about?"

"You're going to need new clothes. Armour won't do. It'll definitely draw too much attention. Oh I hate doing the new clothes run. See, I knew you being back would be trouble. You couldn't have just been brought back appropriately dressed, oh no, that'd simply be too much to ask. Whether in this life or the last, somehow it seems to be my destiny to have to dress you."

For a moment Arthur stared back at Merlin, open mouthed, before collecting himself.

"What about the way I'm dressed? Have you seen yourself? What exactly is that supposed to be?" He asked as he pulled at the ragged black garment he assumed was supposed to be a coat.

"It's a coat, Arthur."

Oh, so it was supposed to be a coat.

"Really, that's what passes as fashion these days?"

"I take what I find and wear it. Once a peasant, always a peasant."

And then suddenly Merlin was looking over his shoulder at something off in the distance.

"Now, Arthur, I want you to just stay very calm. I know they're loud and fast but they're really nothing to be afraid of…unless you walk right in front of one when it's speeding towards you."

Any confusion as to what Merlin was talking about was quickly sent from his mind by the roaring of great big…things as they sped past them.

"What the hell are they?!"

"Transport. Those ones are called cars. They're like this century's equivalent to horses and carts. Much faster. Quite a bit noisier too but they get you where you need to go."

"Do you have one?"

A Merlin's face split into a grin.

"Oh god no. I could barely handle a horse. Some years ago they invented this thing they called a bicycle, it was a two wheeled thing that you sat on and it had pedals and you sort of used your legs to move it." He says while gesturing in various ways which Arthur assumes is supposed to be helpful.

"That's an exceptional description Merlin. I can just picture it in my mind now. You've truly become a master of words since last I saw you."

"Shut up. Anyway, I tried one of them once... It was a disaster."

"Anything that involves you usually turns into a disaster."

His friend's amusement had by now turned to sheepishness.

"There were only a few broken boxes…and bones… but I fixed it all. Everything was fine, you know, in the end."

"And to think Gaius tried to tell me you were the most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived. I always thought it was a miracle you managed to survive getting out of bed each morning."

Arthur looked down and smiled to himself as Merlin gave a cry of protest and launched into a rather loud, rambling explanation of exactly why he was both great and powerful. At least the idiot was talking now.

…...

The rest of their journey had been rather uneventful once Arthur had gotten used to the various new forms of the transport and the noises they made. Merlin's home had proved to be suitably underwhelming once they had arrived. It was rather off the beaten track and nowhere near any of those roads (much to Arthur's pleasure). It was also small and rather run down but he'd seen much worse in his life. He could put up with it for now. And that's exactly what he told Merlin.

"For now?" Merlin said.

"Yes for now. If I'm going to be around for some time we're obviously going to have to find better accommodation."

"You are just such a…Concentrate on getting your armour off or something. I'll look for something to eat. Food always was the best way to shut you up."

And that is how Arthur found himself sitting on a rackety old chair holding something called a 'pot noodle'. Merlin had rather unceremoniously shoved it into his hand after declaring that it'd have to do and grumbling something about more shopping being done tomorrow. Stupidly, Arthur manages to convince himself to that maybe it's not as bad as it looks. He grimaces through the first mouthful and gestures for Merlin to take his 'dinner' away from him.

" If all food is like this these days I will walk myself back into that lake and refuse to come out till someone once again discovers what a good roast is. Or at least a broth."

Merlin simply rolls his eyes at him in response.

"Sorry, I wasn't exactly expecting to be catering to royal taste buds anytime soon. You know I liked you better when you were dying. You were grateful then. It was all 'thank you Merlin, you're wonderful Merlin, couldn't have done it without you Merlin', it was nice."

"I thought I was never going to see you again. If I'd known that I was, and that you were going to try and kill me all over again with this poor substitute for food, I would have told you to spend the next few centuries doing something useful. Like learning how to cook!"

"Seeing as you no longer have a 'kingly' duties to distract you maybe you can spend this life learning to cook your own food."

The mention of 'kingly duties' was enough to bring some questions to the forefront of Arthur's mind. Admittedly he had been thinking about them since seeing Merlin at the lake but he'd been waiting for a more opportune time to broach the subject.

He knew before the words were out of his mouth that it was a stupid thing to ask but…

"…Gwen. My knights. Everybody else. There's no hope of seeing them around here is there?"

His friend stilled for a moment and then slowly turned to look at him. There was more than just a trace of sadness in his eyes and that look alone told Arthur the answer to his question.

"They've been gone for a while now. So has Camelot."

Hearing it spoken out loud made the sense of loss intensify and Merlin, like always understood him without words. He turned away and began busying himself with the fire, evidently intending to leave Arthur to his thoughts but Arthur had no intention on dwelling for long. He wants answers and he wants them now.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why am I back? How am I back? Why now?" He stands up abruptly as he speaks, pacing slightly in the cramped confines of the room, and then points at Merlin, "Did you have something to do with it?"

"Well, it's obvious somebody had a lot of questions just bubbling up inside them."

"You're avoiding the question. Answer me."

"I'm not avoiding. I just, I don't know. It was said that you were the Once and Future King, and that after your death you'd return once more when Albion's need was greatest but…so many things have happened since you died. Such atrocities that I cannot even begin to describe to you and I sat on the shores of Avalon and I waited, because I thought that this must be it, surely this is the time they meant but you didn't come. And now…there's nothing I can think of which would be the cause for your return."

"And this worries you."

"Yes."

There was a brief period of silence.

"You said you waited…How long Merlin?"

Merlin breathed out a sigh and for a moment it looked as though he wouldn't answer. However, just as Arthur was beginning to grow impatient Merlin spoke.

"I told you. It's been a while."

Well, that was barely an answer at all.

"Merlin."

It almost felt like old times, with Merlin being deliberately obtuse and Arthur feeling the overwhelming urge to slap him around the back of the head. Although, any fond feelings at these memories quickly dispersed on seeing the look now on the other man's face. He looked so tired and worn, and Arthur suddenly wondered if he really wanted to know the answer to his question at all.

"Centuries Arthur…just, leave it at that. Please."

And with that Arthur realised why Merlin's gaze had made him feel so small earlier. Merlin was probably older than this house, older than the road they had walked along…hell; he was probably older than half the trees in the forest. They say the eyes are the window to the soul and Merlin, he was ancient.

And he was alone. Or at least he had been.

"Maybe we should get some rest. Think more about this situation in the morning," Arthur said while deliberately averting his gaze, "I think the right to sleeping in the actual bed should belong to the recently resurrected former royalty."

As soon as the words left his mouth he felt like an idiot. Running away and trying to joke. Yes, that's an exceptionally heroic and kingly thing to do. Surprisingly, Merlin didn't call him out on this; instead he simply led him towards the bedroom.

"It's not much." He said as they crossed threshold.

And he wasn't lying. Just like everything else it was tiny and run down but they had both seen and slept in much worse. Arthur moved to sit on the edge of the bed and was surprised by how soft it felt. He was sure it was softer than his own bed had been back in Camelot.

"Merlin, you do realise this is luxury compared to your old accommodation in Gauis' chambers."

Merlin shifted in obvious discomfort, looking around the room before replying in an overly casual tone.

"…Is it? I don't recall."

"What do you mean, 'you don't recall'? That's just…not possible. You lived in those chambers the entire time you were in Camelot. How could you possibly forget?"

And it couldn't be possible. It just couldn't. Those chambers had been his home. Gauis had been like a father to him. Those things don't just fade from memory.

"Don't you have trouble remembering all aspects of your childhood even though it was only a few decades ago to you?"

"But you remember me well enough. Did I just leave that much of an impression?"

It was a weak attempt at levity which unsurprisingly failed. He could see where this was going, he had put all the parts together and he wanted to shout at Merlin to stop. He didn't want to hear it. But Merlin continued.

"It's like the memories of you were protected. Even the memories I have of you when we were with others…I can see you as clear as I can see you now and remember almost every word we exchanged but when it comes to everyone else. They're just figures. Their faces blurred and voices indistinct. I'm aware of the names and that I should know so much more but it's all jumbled up. I… I once spent an entire day just sitting, trying to remember my mother's name…" Merlin smiles sadly, "I remembered in the end. Her name was Hunith. I wrote it down."

Arthur had seen first had seen first-hand how devoted Merlin had been to his mother. To think of him not being able to remember her made him ill. This was all wrong. All of it. Him being back. Merlin having being stuck wandering and waiting…slowly forgetting. He didn't know what fates were in charge of his and Merlin's destiny but right now, he hated them.

"I should leave you to rest. Goodnight Arthur…I've missed you."