No Man Can Know His Destiny

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur heavily inhaled, gasping for air that finally came to him as his head emerged from the water. Though the strain caused him to gasp a few times in order to catch his breath. His vision was blurred from having been underwater and he felt massively disoriented. He had no idea where he was, how long he had been here . . . or how he had gotten here. He let his instincts take over as he began to swim to shore, which was not as far as he dreaded it may be. The armor that he seemed to magically be wearing weighed him down, and while he should be used to the heavy weight of it, it felt far more of a burden than it ever had before. When he finally made it to shore, he rested on his hands and knees for a moment, continuing to catch his breath as it came out short and staggered. Blinking a few times, he shook his head a bit to help clear it as well as his vision.

Naturally looking around, he noticed something laying next to him. It was unmistakable, the way the gold markings glistened in the sun. He reached for it, his hand gripping the hilt as he had done numerous times before. It was the first sense of familiarity he had right now: his sword pulled from the stone. He rose tried to rise to his feet, but failed, limply clutching the sword in his hand. He tried to raise his head to look at the lake he'd emerged from. Was that how to phrase it? His mind was filled with incoherent thoughts. Right now, he had to focus. Focus on returning to Camelot. For who knows how long he had been here for and surely everyone was looking for the king. He could not waste a moment. Yet nor could he move. He just lay on his back, closing his eyes and each breath felt strained. Not as if life was slipping from him. . . but as if his life was slowly returning to him.

_{Setting: Starts at the Lake of Avalon
Time of Day: Morning
Timeline: Four years after The Diamond Of The Day II
What If: Albion's need for their king has come, and Arthur rises from death
Tag: Merlin}

[merlinus]

Gathering some supplies in a bag, a young brunette sighed softly as he hoisted the bag on his shoulders, preparing for the same trip he made every day. The small cove he had found was a ten minute walk away from the nearest view of the Lake of Avalon, which made it ideal. Meant he could keep an eye on the Lake, and keep faith that Arthur would return. He could not return to Camelot, for it hurt far too much to return there, to feel the absence of the King's presence, and to know he had failed. He could not watch the world move on, when he was still waiting.

The journey was one he made every day, and as he drew nearer to the lake, Merlin's steps grew heavier, more reluctant. Each time he came here, he would be disappointed; having been certain that perhaps today would be the day, that finally his best friend, the King, would return... and yet it never happened.

Upon reaching the lake, though, something felt... different. Off. A chill coursed through Merlin's veins as he noted the unusual silence, and he swallowed, picking his way through the field. As his eyes set upon the isle, he felt vomit rise briefly in his throat. For there, laying on his back, was a figure that Merlin had been starting to think he would never see again; one that he would never forget the face of. "Arthur?" The warlock's voice trembled, and he broke into a run, reaching the King's side in moments, dropping to his knees, tears in his eyes, feeling as though this was some strange, wonderful dream, and that he would wake and be disappointed once again as reality came crashing around him.

[Arthur Pendragon]

While Arthur was conscious, his eyes remained closed. He was trying to regain his energy for he had felt it had all been drained from him. That even when he heard someone approaching, he did not leap up in case it was a threat upon his life. He just lay there, silently hoping that it was no danger . . . and that they were either move along or -- "Arthur?" That was when he heard his name. Spoken in an all too familiar way; an unmistakable voice. One Arthur would recognize anywhere. But . . . was it really Merlin? Surely not. Was Arthur more delirious than he thought? Had his mind concocted Merlin as a figment of his imagination in this moment? It wasn't until he heard, and then felt someone fall next to him. It was then that Arthur opened his eyes. Opened them to see his brother of heart looking down at him, tears strong in his eyes.

"Merlin?" He questioned in a weak voice, slightly lifting his head so that he was not flat on his back. He was trying to recall all that had happened, but confusion prevailed above all else right now. Confusion, and the immense comfort he felt in having his closest friend near him right now. As if needing further assurance that he was real, Arthur put his hand on Merlin's arm. "What . . . " He paused, trying to compose his words, but seeing Merlin so emotional . . . something wasn't right. While Merlin was known for expressing his emotions, Arthur knew that it was often the result of something big. Taking a deep breath, he tried to speak again, not taking his eyes off of Merlin. Perhaps in fear of slipping back into darkness, or that Merlin wasn't truly there or . . . just the need to see someone familiar who helped put his mind at ease. "What happened?" He questioned in a hoarse voice. A loaded question perhaps, but . . . anything to appease this confusion that was circling in his mind right now.

[merlinus]

Merlin knelt next to the King, smiling in relief, ignoring the tears that blurred his vision - tears of relief and joy, for Arthur was finally returned. "Take your time," he cautioned softly, not wanting the King to feel overwhelmed, seeing how the man was trying to take in so much at once. "Bet you didn't expect to see me when you first woke up," he joked, though his voice cracked a little. To think that he had almost given up on the blonde... once again, Merlin cursed himself for his apparent lack of faith. He had been considering moving on - how much more selfish could he have been? What if Arthur had returned, and Merlin had not been there? He glanced down at the hand the King placed on his arm, giving the man a small smile, clasping his hand back in that old sign of fellowship and promise.

Arthur was back; all would be right again. At the King's next question, though, Merlin sighed softly, swallowing heavily. "It's a long story sire," he said quietly. "But you fell... thanks to Mordred's blade." he added, grimly. "Nevertheless, there is nothing to worry about - especially not now. All you need know for now is that Gwen, Camelot, the Knights, and the people you hold dear are safe. The rest can wait until you are better rested, Arthur." he said firmly, offering the King his hands. "Will you come with me?"

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur gave an ever so slight smile when Merlin spoke of not having expected to see him here. That was quite true. Mainly because Arthur didn't expect to see anyone. But more often than not, it was Merlin who Arthur usually first saw when rising from unconsciousness. He supposed now shouldn't be any different. "You're right about that," he said, encouraging the teasing, grateful for it. Somehow it ease whatever made him feel so unsettled right now. "I thought I was dead," he said with a half laugh, not quite realizing how close to the truth it came. "But when I opened my eyes and saw you . . . I knew I couldn't possibly be in heaven." Back to the mocking, even in this strained state. Though when Merlin began to answer his question . . . the teasing left his tone and he just looked at his friend. Though as always, Merlin knew just what to say to help put his mind at rest. For he assured him that Camelot, Guinevère, and the knights were safe.

That was what mattered. And Merlin knew Arthur well enough to answer the unspoken question that lingered in Arthur's mind as it became less hazy and more alert. As Merlin rose he extended his hand to Arthur, asking him to come with him. "I remember . . . Mordred," he began to say as he took Merlin up on his offer and rest his hands in his so that he would have that assistance and extra support in standing. "It was at Camlann. I fell and you took me to safety and . . . " Arthur voice trailed off, as visions flashed in his mind of what had happened in . . . well, he didn't know how near or distant of a past. His eyes slightly widened as he locked his gaze on Merlin. "You have magic." He wasn't sure if his recollecting words were a statement or a question. All he knew was that he remembered. He remembered Merlin showing him his powers and . . . he remembered his last words to him.

[merlinus]

The warlock gave a grateful and shaky laugh at Arthur's words. "Hey! I'll have you know I can be rather saintly when I want to be," he teased back, though his voice was a little shaky, and there was a hint of tears in his eyes, though they were happy tears. "Well... maybe not saintly," he admitted with a grin, glancing at his best friend. Arthur was back, and everything would be all right. At last. Merlin would sing if he could; for the pure joy and relief he felt flooding through him. Heck, he'd even let the King get away with calling him a clotpole right now.

At the mention of Mordred, something stilled in Merlin, and he grimaced. "He's dead, Arthur." he said softly. "I don't know how, but he's dead. No threat to anyone anymore." He trailed off as the King continued, and he felt himself grow cold as Arthur's gaze locked on his - though he couldn't quite define whether the man was accusing him or not. He swallowed, remembering how Arthur had originally responded to the confession so many years ago, how he had eventually come to accept it... and wondered whether the only reason he had had been because he was dying.

"I do." the warlock confirmed quietly, keeping his gaze on Arthur's. "But... if you ask it of me, I'll never use them again. I'll... keep them hidden, keep them secret." Just please don't send me away. He thought, but didn't add out loud. The idea of not being able to use magic - ever - was terrifying and horrible, and yet for Arthur he would do it; he'd do whatever it took to make the King trust him again. To make him see him as he once had.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur gave a bit of a laugh at Merlin saying that he was saintly. "More like the devil," he greeting jokingly, knowing that Merlin was far from that. Finding out that he had been his silent protector . . . well, Arthur would more accurately call him a guardian than anything negative. But as the topic shifted to a more serious note, it was getting harder to find the strength and will to smile. When Merlin confirmed that Mordred was dead, Arthur felt a wave of relief. He had stabbed him and knew he had fallen, but he had fallen unconscious shortly after, so wasn't sure if the druid had actually died or somehow managed to survive his wound. "I killed him," Arthur stated, unsure what was in his tone. Not remorse. Not regret. But . . . also no happiness pleasure for he had taken the life of someone he'd considered a brother. There was no joy in that. Only a reassuring feeling that he would no longer be a threat. Speaking of which . . . "And you killed Morgana," he suddenly remembered, his voice holding a slight hint of a question or a statement that perhaps needed confirmation.

Arthur had seen it and while he would always mourn for the sister he'd lost . . . he'd lost her years ago. The woman she had become was cold, ruthless and lacked any sort of sympathy or soft emotion toward an other. If nothing else, Arthur was grateful that she would not pose as a threat to the kingdom. He had that peace of mind that Guinevère would not have to deal with her wrath, and the people would be safe from her. This battle had changed so much and Arthur wasn't even sure he realized the half of it. As the subject came to Merlin's magic, Arthur looked into his friends eyes, seeing the sincerity of his words and offer. Flashes of their previous conversation entered his mind, Merlin being more concerned with Arthur not putting him in a difficult position, rather than the consequences of potentially losing his head. So the fact that Merlin was willing to never use magic again . . . he was willing to do that? It just showed what a true friend Merlin was, and Arthur could not be selfish enough to even consider the option.

Not after everything Merlin had done for him and once again, Arthur probably didn't even know the half of it. "No," he began to say, wanting Merlin to know that he was sure in his words. Had Arthur not been dying, perhaps the anger over Merlin's revelation would have lingered longer. But nor did Arthur regret what he told him in his last breaths. "I told you that I didn't want you to change. That I want you, to be you." Because magic was part of who he was, and Arthur appreciated him the way he was, even more so finding out how much Merlin had truly done and risked for him. "I meant those words Merlin. I may not understand what you can do, but I would be honored to learn more about it." Embracing magic, because finally, Arthur had realized its potential for good, rather than seeing it constantly used for evil. "If you would let me," he added, not wanting Merlin to feel uncomfortable, but also wanting to give the warlock the ability to choose whether Arthur could be there to witness his grand powers.

[merlinus]

Merlin's smile faltered, but only for a second, at Arthur's words, as it took a moment for him to realise his friend was joking with him. He gave a grin; if Arthur were up to sparring with him verbally, then his best friend couldn't be feeling too bad. "Well, you know the saying Arthur," he jibed back. "Better the devil you know and all that..." The grin faltered properly at the mention of what had happened to Mordred, and to Morgana, and once again Merlin felt some amount of surprise that he felt no compassion towards those who had fallen; especially as they were, as some might say, of his kind. "We had to; they gave us no alternative, Arthur." he stated firmly, praying his friend would not condemn him for what he'd had to do.

He stilled a little as Arthur spoke, relief flooding through him. Being unable to use his magic; it would have been hard; Merlin had no idea how hard; but he would have at least tried for the King. But what Arthur was asking of him was... incredible. Once again his best friend showed just how much he had grown in the years that Merlin had known him; and just how little he was like Uther before him - willing to accept change, and embrace the truth in others. He wondered, though he didn't dare ask, whether Arthur would finally realise that not all magic was bad; whether his friend would acknowledge that magic in Camelot was not, necessarily, always a bad thing. He gave a shaky smile, nodding, his heart thumping fast in his chest.

"I would be honoured to," he said, honestly. Pausing for a moment, Merlin reached out, grasping Arthur's forearm in the old sign between them. "Thank-you, Arthur... you..." he swallowed, eyes a little bright with emotion. "You don't know what this means to me."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur gave another slight smile at the teasing yet he was finding it more and more difficult to keep the mood light, when it was broaching such serious subjects. But if there was anyone that was able to make such a situation feel less intense and severe, it was most certainly Merlin. Arthur paused in a pensive silence as Merlin spoke of how they had no alternative. There was not an ounce of regret in his voice, just as Arthur was confident in the decisions they had each made to end the lives of those who had posed as a threat to not only them, but the kingdom as a whole. "I know," he said in a low voice. Even seeing Morgana fall, he felt no regret or remorse. He had lost Morgana years ago. All he felt was relief, that Merlin had finally allowed Camelot to be at peace . . . even if Arthur was not there to witness it. "You eliminated the greatest threat ever posed in the kingdom," he said, or in other words: Morgana. They may be related by blood but she was no sister of his.

Awaiting Merlin's reply to Arthur's somewhat phrased question, he found himself almost nervous, yet Merlin's reaction and words immediately alleviated that nervousness. He wasn't sure why. Perhaps because this was all so unfamiliar. They had been through a great deal together yet magic . . . well, this was not a conversation Arthur ever thought he would be having with Merlin. He gave a small smile, though one filled with emotion. "It is I who owe you gratitude." Merlin had nothing to be thankful for, because having realized all the warlock had done . . . well, Arthur wasn't even sure he knew the half of it. "You have done more for me and Camelot than I could ever repay. I shall forever be indebted to you." He wasn't sure what had happened in his absence and knew that he and Merlin would soon have to engage in that discussion. But right now, he just wanted him to know that he wanted Merlin by his side. That he was aware of how much he wouldn't have been able to do without him.

[merlinus]

Merlin watched the King's features as Arthur seemed to slowly come to terms with everything that had gone on, and felt pride well up in his chest. In everything he had done, there had always been a slight possibility that it had been for nothing, that Arthur, like his father before him, would denounce magic and cause misery... but Merlin had stayed true to the King; tried to believe in him even when Arthur had tested his limits, and that patience, that loyalty, was finally being rewarded. Albion was safe; not because Merlin had killed Morgana, but because Arthur was able to accept that it was the person, not the magic inside them, that caused misery. "No," he disagreed softly. "We did it together, Arthur. You and I, as we always have." he gave a quick grin, hoping to get a smile in return.

He shook his head quickly as the blonde talked of gratitude, and being indebted, and placed a hand gently on his friend's shoulder. "There is no debt." he assured, firmly. "I did what any man in my position should do; I protected those I cared for and fought for what I believe in. You were worth it, Arthur." he gave a quick smile. "Even if you are a clotpole..."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had never known a more humble man than the one that stood before him. How quick Merlin was to take the focus off of him; to dismiss all that he had done. Arthur thought of those few times that he'd given Merlin the credit for doing something heroic. He always knew the man was brave, but now realizing the extent of it all . . . Arthur wished he could somehow go back in time and give praise where it was due. Yet at the same time, he knew it took that time that they grew together, in order to be where they are now. If he could take back time, it would be the years he had spent in darkness before being awoken now. Merlin's words did cause a soft smile on Arthur's lips, and a bit of a nod, for he truly did not know what to say. What was there to say to such a great man, who's worth was so unknown to all?

And as if his words were not astonishing enough, Merlin continued on to say that he owed him nothing. That he did what any man would have done. That . . . he felt Arthur was worth it. Worth all those times that Merlin had nearly died for him, risked his life for him, was willing to sacrifice himself for him. And Arthur knew that there were far many more times than came to his conscious mind. He felt the sting of a small tear come to his eyes at the amount of faith Merlin had in him; the honored that filled Arthur was far more than he was capable of expressing. "That is where you are wrong. For I do not know another person who would have done all that you did." He had the power to do so much, and he had done it . . . without seeking recognition. If that wasn't greatness, then Arthur didn't know what was. At the mention of being a clotpole, Arthur gave a slight chuckle, the familiarity of the mocking word bringing such ease and comfort to his mind. "I fear what could happen if I am so quick to retaliate," Arthur said jokingly.

He now knew that Merlin had magic, who knows what he would do with it . . . though in truth, Arthur was not afraid to criticize him back. They were still brothers after all. "Many years ago, my father told me that on my journey to becoming king, I would need a guardian angel." The words had never left his mind, for it was after Arthur had nearly died, yet still knew that someone was looking out for him. Looking intently at Merlin, he continued to speak. "I am honored beyond words to be standing in his presence." For he knew now, just who that guardian angel was. Keeping his gaze on him for a few moments, Arthur took a deep breath and attempted to walk, taking a small step forward to test his strength. "How far are we from the city?" He asked, feeling rather disoriented and therefore, unsure as to what their exact location was.

[merlinus]

Merlin sighed softly, shaking his head. "You give me too much credit, sire," he said, respectfully, "you are a great King, and deserve every man's loyalty. I am honoured to be your servant.... and friend." he gave the man a quick smile, pausing, a slight shadow falling over his face. "I wish I could have been there for you, at the start of the battle... I... I know you were disappointed in me." the warlock swallowed, shaking off the words, unsure exactly what to say. "I just want you to know that I was not abandoning you. I never would, Arthur." He stared at the man earnestly for a moment, hoping that Arthur would understand the truth behind the words.

He chuckled lightly at the King's words, recognising them for the joke they were. "Well, if your boots ever go wandering off," the young man waggled his eyebrows suggestively. As the conversation turned serious once again, though, Merlin faltered, unsure what to say. He had never, in all his years, imagined such gratitude from Arthur. In truth, he wasn't sure what he had expected, but this... this had definately not been it. The young warlock smiled, shaking his head. "I am no guardian angel, sire. Just a friend, and a brother of heart."

Merlin stepped forward, ready to support his friend if needs be, as he watched the King test his own strength once more, feeling his heart rejoice at the return of the King to his lands. He paused at the question, working it out in his mind before answering. "A day or so walk," he admitted. "Might I suggest you take rest in a nearby inn or somewhere first? You will need to regain your strength fully... word can be sent to Camelot, if you wish."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur still couldn't believe that Merlin felt he gave him too much credit, when the warlock had done so much that went unacknowledged. "Quite the opposite, Merlin," Arthur admitted. He didn't give him enough credit, never had for all he had done. It made Arthur all the more grateful for returning . . . so that he could set things right. So that he could have more time to do so. He looked at his friend, still honored by the words he spoke; of how highly he praised him. Words escaped him for there were none in the English language that would do justice to how much Merlin's words touched him. Arthur had never been good at expressing his feelings verbally, so he hoped that some of the emotion was evident on his expression. After a brief silence, he continued. "The latter," he corrected.

"For you are my servant no more." Trying to lighten the mood, Arthur continued. "I think I'll have to sack you. Or promote you, I should say." Though Arthur's words were said with a lighter tone, he meant them. Though he did not know Merlin's current position. Did he still work at the castle? Did others know of his magic? Arthur slight smile faded when Merlin spoke of how he wished he could have been there . . . and how Arthur had been disappointed in him. Arthur could not deny that. Even without realizing Merlin's full potential, he had still depended on him a great deal. He hadn't known what had kept Merlin from going into battle with him, though now he knew that whatever it was, it was completely understandable. "You have nothing to explain Merlin," Arthur assured him.

"I never believed what you told me, yet could not understand where you had gone. Now I do. And it is I who should be apologizing for ever doubting you." While he may not have known exactly where Merlin went, he knew it was important . . . and undoubtedly was related to the battle somehow. "You mentioned a prophecy . . . " Arthur said, suddenly remembering Merlin's words of how he had thought he defied it. "Was what happened," -- Arthur's death -- "foretold?" Was it really inevitable? Unchangeable? Was he even meant to come back? He didn't know if Merlin had the answers, but he also knew that if anyone would know and could be asked . . . it was Merlin.

Arthur smiled with amusement when Merlin mentioned his boots wandering off. "I have yet to learn, and witness, what you're capable of. I'm actually rather intrigued by the thought." Never did Arthur think the day would come where he would smile about such a joke regarding the use of magic. Yet, it felt good. To embrace it. To know that it existed within a man that Arthur considered his brother. After seeing the corruption of its use by Morgana, Merlin was the exact opposite: proof that it could be and was used for good. "Then if we are brothers, you would stop calling me Sire," Arthur teased. Though he no longer wanted to hear Merlin use that title. No formality between them. Not when Arthur owed him so much and Merlin continued to prove how great his strength was. Arthur then listened to him explain that it was about a day long walk, and suggested staying at an inn to rest.

"We'll see if it is needed," Arthur said, though knew that Merlin was most likely right. Rational. That was something that hadn't changed. "I would rather not send word to Camelot yet. I think it best if we first see Guinevère, and then slowly approach the others." He didn't want to cause panic. He'd rather quietly enter the city, and see his wife first. "Do they know?" Arthur asked, wondering if his return was something that people had been expecting. "How did you know, that I would be here today?" He asked Merlin. For the warlock had come here today, yet Arthur did not know that it was something that was habit for Merlin.

[[ OMG I am SO SORRY about how long that post got!!!! Stop giving me so much muse! *jokes* LOVE YOU ! ]]

[merlinus]

For a moment, Merlin's features fell. He was going to be sacked? Really? After everything? The young warlock may not have been the man that his master had originally hoped he'd be... but... with the words that Arthur was currently speaking, Merlin had hoped that his revealing his magic would not mean exile from Camelot. But then, the rest of the King's sentence caught up with the young man, and his face broke out into an incredulous smile. "Promoted?" he echoed. "What promotion could be higher than the manservant to the King of Camelot?" His tone might have sounded as though he were joking, but he was being utterly truthful. For him, there was no greater honour than the one he already possessed.

Looking up at the man who had somehow unexplicably become his best friend, Merlin wondered quite how to phrase what he should tell Arthur. "Do you remember that day we saw Mordred, when we were almost captured?" he asked, continuing before waiting for the King's response. "I... I can't explain it all to you," a shadow fell across his features. "But... I saw a vision, of you being felled by Mordred's blade - it was the reason why I could never trust him, the reason why I acted so... suspiciously around him." And now he was talking, now he was telling the King things, it seemed he could not stop. "And my reasoning for leaving you at the battle..." he paused. "Morgana had taken my powers... I couldn't help you at all, and we both know I'm useless with a blade. I had to recover them somehow. I... managed, again, it's hard to explain, but... that's why I had to go."

The young warlock took a deep breath, steadying himself once more. "Everything that has happened was foretold, Arthur. Everything." He bowed his head briefly in respect. "I'd be happy to show you, however... strange it would be," Merlin gave a slight smile. "I've wanted to share this with you for so long, Arthur. I wish I could have stopped lying to you long ago." He paused, hesitating. "It feels wrong not to call you Sire, Sire," he admitted. "But if you insist..." A cheeky grin crossed the young man's face. "I suppose clotpole is still an acceptable term, though?"

Merlin frowned as the King declined to send word to Camelot, about to protest, when the man continued with his reasoning. His features clearing a little, the warlock nodded. In truth, he should have figured. It made sense, after all. Too much too soon couldn't be a good thing, and Arthur and Guinevère would need time to themselves to recuperate and regroup after everything had happened. "No one knows, as far as I am aware," he admitted. "I didn't know, either. I.." he hesitated, a little unsure as to how the King would respond to this confession. "I've been coming here every day... since..." Since the battle. "I couldn't believe it when I saw you there." He smiled, joy clear in his features.

[[No apologies necessary!!!! And the same goes!! Apparently your muse is catching! LOL!!!! ]]