Merthur - Forgotten

A New Beginning, a New Life

"How long do you intend to wait for a man who never loved you?"

"As long as it takes." 

___ ___ ___ 

Via's breath did not stutter or falter as she died, but instead slowed until it would never move again. The cold had seeped into her bones.

There are always reoccurrences in time. Always. Sometimes it's names or places. Most often, Merlin noticed, it's people. Familiar faces will come and go with the seasons. In all the time he's been alive, Merlin had been able to spend years with people from his past life. Those who'd come back from Avalon with their memories gone, with new lives ahead of them.

Each time, Merlin had known. There was a tug in his heart and a vision. They came one at a time as children. Born by mortal means, yet with the same face as his loved ones. It happened so often that Merlin couldn't bring himself to ever leave the British Isles. Even though there was so much more out there for him.

So when Merlin found himself doubled over in his apartment kitchen, he knew what was happening. He'd been wandering through the dark mindlessly, searching for something and never quite catching... when it hit. He tugged at his greasy hair, gasping out in... what? Not pain, no. It could have been surprise. It could have been heartbreak. Either way, it left him panting.

Arthur was born.

He saw it in his mind's eye: the crowning of the head as Arthur struggled his way through the birth canal. He saw the pale cheeks of his mother, the exertion draining her. Merlin knew she would not survive and his heart truly did break for her. For her and those she'd leave behind.

By the end of the month, Merlin found himself a job in the royal palace as Physician to the King, marveling at the continuity of it all. Who was it that first stopped telling the stories of his past? It seemed that nobody knew anymore. Nobody blinked when king Uther named his son Arthur or when he took in a little Scottish girl named Morgana. There wasn't even an uproar when the local children were all named after the knights of old.

It was as if Merlin were the only one left.

Many times in Arthur's younger years did Merlin feel a pang of unending sadness at the prospect of his childhood. Those memories in which Merlin served Arthur all those years ago were still the most powerful, even after thousands of years. Merlin often had to retreat to his quarters as to not let it show on his face. Arthur would not know him.

Once, King Uther called Merlin in to see to Arthur when he was still a baby. The boy was not a sickly child, but a cold can reach anyone. Merlin recalled with fondness the way Uther paced with worry for his son. Merlin fought back the urge to tell him how he hadn't changed.

Holding Arthur had nearly broken him. This was not the Arthur he knew and loved and yet... it was. This was the child that would grow into the man he loved all those years ago. This child, wrapped in a delicate cloth and coughing with a sputtering sound that made his bones ache. Merlin fixed that without even thinking, whispering the ancient magic that nobody else remembered.

Of course, then Merlin had to make a show of checking him even through his sadness, his impatience. Uther didn't notice and by the next morning, Arthur was just fine. It was that first encounter with Arthur that kept Merlin going during those long years without him. Because he didn't have Arthur. Not really. He wouldn't have his Arthur for another twenty-three years and even then, it won't be the same. But Merlin would have Arthur back.

___ ___ ___

"Who's the girl?"

Morgana's voice was soft in Arthur's ear, inquisitive and startling, In spite of himself, Arthur jumped away, cringing at the feeling of fear in his gut.