Arthur and Morgana Pendragon. Who were they that they remain in the memories of descendants to the present day? What could the Warlock Emrys, the eternal wanderer, tell about them if you met him on one of the forest roads of Britain? His face would have darkened at the memory of the people dear to him and regrets about the merciless ways of Destiny, but he would have told you how he knew and remembered them. Brother and sister. Lovers. Enemies. The King and the Druidess. They have gone beyond the mists of Avalon, where even the foot of Emrys can’t step, and will wait until they are called back to this world. Emrys will leave without saying goodbye, and the Prince and Princess of Camelot will still sleep in forbidden, but not forgotten legends.
CHAPTER ONE - THE BAD FEELING & THE TREASURE CHEST
Merlin had a bad feeling about this.
Admittedly, he got a bad feeling every time Arthur decided to go galavanting into the forest. Usually, it was for some stupid errand or quest, but his time the king hadn’t even bothered to provide his reasoning. Also, there must be a less dangerous route away from Camelot. Bandits, sorcerers, monsters, and assassins - and that angry old lady once - always found Arthur like bees to a hive. At this point, it was rare that they didn’t get chased, maimed, or attacked in one way or another. But did that deter His Royal Pratness? No. No, it did not.
“Arthur,” Merlin whined as he adjusted in his saddle and slouched forward, “I don’t like this. My arse hurts. I’m tired. I’m thirsty. We’ve been riding for hours and you haven’t even told me where we are going!”
“I understand your limited mental capacity makes this difficult, Merlin, but try to remember that I am the king. You can’t speak to me like that. And if you stopped sitting like a pouting child then maybe your scrawny arse wouldn’t hurt.” Arthur replied boredly, running his gloved hand through his hair. It stuck up sporadically, wet from dewy fog surrounding them, “So do me a favour and shut up, Merlin.”
“Oh, commenting on my capacity is brave, sire. Seeing as your head is the size of a farmer’s prize pumpkin. And yet, I swear I can hear the wind whistling through one ear and out the other.” Merlin smiled smugly at himself, “I bet you don’t even know where we’re going. You’re just trying to pretend because you can’t admit we’re lost. Prat.”
Morgana raised her hand again, eyes wild with fear and confusion, “Answer me! What are you?!”
Arthur blinked, his face scrunching up with frustration, his wings flapping forward harder. They pushed air across the room, the dust and ice picking up into a whirlwind, clouding the room. Merlin clung to him, struggling not to be blown away, too. He pushed into the safety of Arthur’s side, blinded by the snow and deafened by the wind.
“Please,” Arthur called to her, “I don’t want to fight you. We were friends once… Morgana, the more ruthless you are the more enemies you’ll create -”
“Is this why…” Morgana’s face filtered through a multitude of expressions as fear, wonder, and realisation panged through her in succession, “You have magic? Arthur, you have magic?”
Arthur blinked down at his blood and frost-covered hands, Merlin’s shaking fingers wound tightly in his thin white shirt , “We are not so different in the end, it seems.”
Merlin defeated the creature easily. He turned away from his fallen foe and back to the boulder blockade he’d trapped Arthur behind. Too late, Merlin saw the King had found his own way out. He had seen… everything.
Arthur didn’t look angry. He didn’t even seem surprised. Just… hurt. Merlin froze when he saw that Arthur was crying. The King hadn’t seemed to notice it yet, his eyes lost and face void of emotion, but tear tracks lined his dust-coated cheeks. Arthur didn’t cry. It was a rule he rarely disobeyed, his motto, “No man is worth your tears.” It took Merlin a second to understand, but he wasn’t angry… he was heartbroken.
Arthur discovers Merlin’s magic. Realising that nearly everyone close to him has betrayed him, Arthur blames himself and obsesses over being a perfect king. He finally taps into his potential, follows his beliefs, and becomes the man that he was meant to be. Arthur also discovers he’s not what he thought he was and begins keeping secrets of his own. Meanwhile, Merlin repents for his mistakes and learns about Arthur’s past. What is Arthur hiding? Can Merlin win back Arthur’s trust? Who and what is Arthur Pendragon, really?
*if you look closely you can see a little reflection of Merlin in Arthur’s eyes*
Thank you to chrisfrootart! I love your art style and hope you like how this turned out. Sorry my ADHD kind of made a nose job into a full art session.
