Merlin: Return of the Monarch

Peasants vs. Commoners

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“I don’t know all right Merlin. One minute I was looking out the window and the next, my vision was entirely clouded by intense pain.” Arthur snapped, shifting in his spot on the sofa with his cold, damp shirt still draped over his angry burn marks. Merlin shook his head.

            “It just doesn’t make sense. You didn’t come into contact with anything hot, so why and how did those appear?” The warlock pressed on, making Arthur roll his eyes. “Look, will you please just calm down and turn on the telly-box?”

            Merlin sighed, a muscle in his face twitching in annoyance as Arthur misnamed another modern gadget, but did as he asked and turned onto the news.

            “And breaking news of the fire at Buckingham Palace only hours ago. The authorities has released that it was in the Royal nursery, where the infant Prince Arthur was taking his after lunch nap. The Prince has been rushed to hospital with severe burns to his abdominal, but has sustained no fatalities.”

 

            Merlin switched off the TV as fast as he could. Something in his head had just clicked. “Arthur…” He said, his eyes not leaving the blank screen. “What are you doing Merlin, that was interesting?” Arthur exclaimed, gesturing towards the television. Merlin didn’t reply. He just sat there, thinking things over for a moment.

            “When you found yourself back in this world, what was the date?” He asked, his throat feeling clogged up and his hands sweaty. Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know, 11th June? Why?” He added, eyeing Merlin apprehensively. Merlin spun around to look at him. “Because that was the day the new Prince was born… Prince… Arthur…”

            He looked carefully at Arthur, as the cogs slowly turned in his brain. His eyes sparkled slightly as they fell into place. “That makes sense!” He exclaimed, jumping up and wincing as his burns fired up with the movement. “If I came back the day this modern day Prince Arthur was born, maybe we are somehow connected!” He said, excitement getting the better of him. Merlin shook his head and pushed him back down and laid the wet shirt over his stomach again.

            “It does and it doesn’t. What connection would there be between you two?” Merlin pondered, pacing between the two sofas. Arthur raised his eyebrows. “You can’t be serious.” He said, and Merlin stopped pacing and looked at him. Arthur pulled an impatient face. “Oh, so I suppose it’s got nothing what-so-ever to do with the fact that we are both blood Royalty and we are both called Arthur.” He said with a sarcastic tone. Merlin shook his head.

            “Different bloodline.” Was all he said. Arthur looked surprised. “What.”

            “Different bloodline, there’s been about 20 switches since you were on the throne.” Merlin told him, sitting back on the other couch with his index and middle fingers pressed on his temples. Arthur slumped back. “Oh great. So we’ve got a mongrel on the throne.” He sneered, a look of disgust on his face. Merlin looked up at him. “Until the late 1800s, early 1900s the Royals have been marrying their cousins, including your family, and because this lot aren’t direct blood relation to you they’re the mongrels?” He said incredulously. Arthur pulled a blank face.

            “Read that from it then, why don’t you.” He sighed, leaning back and shutting his eyes. He suddenly lifted his head up again, as if he’d been shocked with static electricity. “But I did not marry my cousin.” Merlin couldn’t rest. There was something there, there had to be. Then it hit him.

            “OH!” He yelled, jumping up and clapping his hands together. Arthur jumped in surprise. “Damn it Merlin, don’t do that.” He muttered, opening his eyes and glaring pointedly at Merlin. Merlin shook his head, and quickly dug around in an open box next to the coffee table. He pulled out a tatted looking Macbook Air and opened up the internet. “Damn. We haven’t got internet. Did the landlord give us the wifi?” He asked, turning to Arthur who was staring at him open mouthed.

            “Ok Merlin, not sure if you have noticed, but I’ve only been around for two years, and have absolutely no idea what you have just said.” Said Arthur. Merlin shrugged, and shut the laptop. “Basically we have no access to the most informative source available to us.” He said, running his hands through his hair and over his face. “But?” Arthur said, waiting for Merlin to continue with what he was saying.

            “But the Prince’s mother, she isn’t from the Royal family. Her family have a Royal background though, so she could be the link between you and the Prince.”

            Arthur gaped at Merlin. “And before you say it, no more mongrel talk. Equality exists now.” Merlin interrupted Arthur before he had a chance to say anything. Arthur raised his hands in surrender. “All right, all right.”

            Merlin sat back in the sofa and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I haven’t sensed any form of magic in the last 100 years. Surely if someone with magic would have been near the greater London area, I would have heard them or their magic?”

            Arthur shrugged. “Well don’t beat yourself up about it, I mean, you were never at the top of your game in Camelot.” Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Says the prince who failed to notice Morgana’s black magic workings.” He shot back. Arthur squirmed slightly in his seat. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up.” He whined, a forlorn expression on his face.

            The young warlock sighed and shrugged. “Maybe we should try and get into Buckingham, see if there is anything or anyone suspicious.” He suggested. Arthur pulled a dopey face. “Oh yes, because they allow commoners into the palace as if it were nothing more than a pub. Get real, Merlin.”

            Merlin shot a look at Arthur. “Well, actually, there is a palace tour for ‘commoners’.” Merlin said quietly.

            Arthur’s head jerked upright and twisted to face Merlin. “Then what are we waiting for?” He exclaimed, trying to get up. Merlin chuckled and shook his head. “They wont let anyone in until Prince Arthur- the other Prince Arthur-“ Arthur cut him off. “King!” He corrected. “The other Arthur,” Merlin continued, casting a glare at the obnoxious King, “Has fully recovered, and they have the palace fixed up after the fire damage, and that could be weeks.”

            Arthur lay his head back down on the armrest of the couch. “So, it looks like we have time.”