Waiting For Arthur

CHAPTER ONE-

"Dreams"

He found himself in a dark room, filled with roots of what appeared to be mandrake; a strong and powerful nightmare-constructing plant that gets into the head of its victims, remembering its lonely and dark memories in which was kept hidden and untouched. He wasn’t sure how he knew that but it doesn’t matter. He has to get out of there before the mandrake seeps in his head too much.

Before him were pillars and walls with ghosts of people he loved who laughed and degraded him. There, he was called by many names; Jethro by his family, Merlin by his friends, and some called him Emrys. Then there was Lady Morgana, he wasn’t sure how he knew her name but he was sure that was who she was. The long, messy black hair suggested she was evil. She cackled in the dark holding a sword which was damaged, a big chip missing from the whole picture itself. She strode near him, touching his face with the tip of the sword.

“Your mission, Emrys,” She teased, “Is about to rise once more. And you don’t even remember it.”

Her laugh echoed, and then the scene faded. It was now by the lake of Avalon. In his hands was a boy whom he figured he must’ve cared about because he had been crying as if he was a father who had taken care of this special boy and then see him dying in his hands.

The boy was wounded by the blade that punctured him, the chipped one that the Lady Morgana was holding. Jethro felt power in his veins, like magic, but he couldn’t save the man. He was powerful, yes, and if that wasn’t enough, what was?

“I can’t lose him! He’s my friend!” he spat to the now noticed dragon.

“Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold, Merlin… Arthur is not just a king. He is the Once and Future King. Take heart, for when Albion’s need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men,” The dragon replied.

He gulped hard, trying to accept the fate bestowed on the boy. He held his face, feeling the cold and soft skin. He remembered his friend who used to be warm, who would always mock him, yet he stayed for him and cared for him.

Then he watched himself set the man he valued in the boat to which it will guide him to the other world and with a glint of gold in his eyes, the body burnt.

He was left crying.

His eyes fluttered open.

“Jethro?” Amy called, knocking on the door that was sealed by the TARDIS. “Jethro, time to wake up! The Doctor wants a word with you.”

Jethro groaned, his pillow flew to his head as he tried to cover his ears from hearing Amy’s dream-interrupting voice which also said, “Is that a groan I hear? Don’t make me let Rory get you! Oi!”

Then he remembered why he was here. How his parents maltreated him but yet he put up with them and loved them, but in the end, they were blasted to pieces by The Daleks which were survivors from the last time The Doctor went to war with them. The Doctor dealt with the creatures, but Jethro’s parents were gone. Just then he realized how ungrateful he was with his life.

At first, he couldn’t even recognize the Doctor, with a new face and all, but he was assured by remembered conversations they had in the Midnight Planet. And with all that knowledge, there can only be one man no matter how he looks.

“Get up, Jethro, or I’ll eat your breakfast!” Amy banged the door once more. That, my dear friends, is how Jethro woke up.

“I’m up!” He yelled, “I’m up now, sorry!”