Merlin's magic (Oneshots) 1

pick up the crown

A.N.:// This is hardly me at my best. But it's better than not doing anything :9 I hope you'll enjoy it anyway ^^

A part of the great legend of the once and future king was known even to the court of Camelot. They knew of the part of the time of great freedom and prosperity.
Where all the lands of Albion would be united in peace.
This legend was also Uther Pendragon's dream. Ironically enough.
To create Albion.
As ignorant as he was about the magic part in the story, as fierce he was to get this legend to pass.

Arthur had always thought his father would be that king.
Five kingdoms, united to one. Uther had told him that under himself, the five kingdom's had worked hard to make this dream come true.
However, there was one problem.

One problem that Uther Pendragon could never solve and that the other kingdom's desperately wanted for themselves.

Who would be king of Albion?

It would be easy to say that the five of them didn't need a king to work together. But life is never as simple. Regency never is.
All five wanted to ensure that peace wouldn't just come – but that it would stay. So they all agreed that one of them should take the lead.
The thing is just that all of them wanted that position. To be the one true ruler of Albion.

And after Uther died, obviously now Arthur had to write the sequel to their great quarrels.

So Arthur invited the kings and queens of the other four kingdom's once more.
But not to Camelot. No.
He invited them to the great castle or Nordasic. The great Castle had long lost it's right to be called by it's name.
For hundred's of years the walls had crumbled. And the wooden floors were either rotten or burned away.

The great ruins, as Arthur called it, had been left alone for a great part of those few hundred years.
But Arthur knew of the legend of the crown.
As did the other kings and queens.

It was a druid legend that in between the gray rocks and faded paintings, somewhere in the throne room, a crown resided that would decide over the future of Albion.
It was said and well known that only the once and future king would be able to wear this crown.

And collectively, the five kingdom's had decided, whoever could wear this crown, he would be king or queen of Albion.
Actually, Arthur was pretty sure the once and future king was a king, not a queen. It was in the name. But they all agreed that prophecies were always kind of vague and you never knew which part was true and which part wasn't.

That is how Arthur and a few of his knights (plus Merlin), as well as high class royals of other kingdom's found themselves within the roofless halls of the Nordasic Castle.
Nordasic Carewood – had been the last once and future king, or so they said.

His crown remained precisely where he died. Killed in his Castle by one of his closest friends. A traitor. But nobody had been able to pick up the crown ever since. So it lay where it always lay. On the withered ground in the middle of the ruins.

"So now. Who is going first?", Arthur asked in the round. The kings and queens shuffled in the wind that blew through the broken rooftop.
Grass and trees had long outgrown the Castle. And here and there a squirrel hushed passed them. It was strangely mystic. And beautiful at the same time.

King Lot was the first to respond. He laughed. Loud. "I am sorry.", he responded finally.
"I knew you wanted someone to wear that crown. But I had really thought you had at least brought Emrys here."

Merlin froze next to Arthur. But nobody except for Arthur noticed it.
"What do you mean?", Arthur asked confused. He had been sure they would all try to pick up the crown and if it didn't work, they would have to find another solution.
He didn't even know what Emrys was! Or who. Was it a name?