Chapter Text
Merlin felt the rebirth of his King the moment it happened; His magic sung in his veins and in his heart, a previously empty space that gapped like a chasm in his soul being filled with golden light, though not fully — not yet. Merlin had long since despaired of his King ever returning to him, long since came to the decision that maybe Kilgharah had been old, and wrong, when he had told Merlin that Arthur would return. Merlin had come to terms with that, had settled into that, even if unhappily and with much despair and sadness.
But now…Merlin dropped the teacup he had been holding, the sound of shattering china loud in the kitchen of his flat, before his magic automatically fixed the cup, settling it on the counter.
“Arthur…” He breathed in awe, eyes flickering bright gold.
Merlin hastily ran towards his study, summoning the rolled up finely detailed world map from his pile of scrolls, and unrolled it. He sent a tendril of power towards the map, mixing it in with the Golden light that represented his other half, and watched with bated breath as the magic swirled on the page, caressing the laminated paper map with golden light. The swirls took a few moments, until it lit up with an almost blinding glow in London…and Scotland?
Merlin sucked in a breath as he realized — Excalibur. Freya must have placed it in a stone, or a lake, for when Arthur was ready. But what was in Scotland? The only thing Merlin could think of was…his eyes widened, and he laughed a tad bit hysterically.
Hogwarts.
Arthur had Magic.
Oh the irony.
Merlin froze, then, a thought sparking to life in his brain like lighting a fuse to a mortar.
Had Arthur been reborn to muggles, or to magical’s? Was Uther Pendragon a muggle in this life, or a Wizard? Had…had Ygraine been magical, and had Uther lost her yet again to magic?
Was Arthur safe?
Merlin didn’t know — and this worried him. Arthur had to be safe — there was no other option, not this time. He had to find Arthur, and ascertain his safety; he would not lose Arthur to Uther’s pedjudece, not again, not ever again.
Cleaning up his desk with a flick of his hand, Merlin quickly summoned a bag and supplies for a few days travel, and headed out the door of his Cabin by the Lake of Avalon, long hidden from the eyes of men.
“I’m coming, Arthur.”
Leaving her husband cooing at their new son in his crib, Ygraine flicked her wand at her dress, straightening it and making sure it was presentable for her soon-to-be visiter. After all, it was not everyday you meet both Merlin, and your son’s soulmate in the very same day, in the same person.
She had been expecting this day since she first conceived Arthur, in a flash of a vision. She had told Uther, who had been at once happy that his future son would be someone so extraordinary (“My son, the Once and Future King of the legends and prophecies?! Magnificent!”) and also terribly saddened and horrified at what it meant for his own past life — not many have not heard of the first Uther Pendragon, of course, (And what Uther’s, her Uther’s, father had been thinking, naming her husband after…well. Fate was a cruel mistress, after all.) and the great purge the father of King Arthur had enacted on the magical world as a whole, and to find out that you were him in a past life…it wasn’t a pleasant realization for her husband, after all. It wasn’t as well known, but still talked about in some circles, at how bad a father King Uther Pendragon had been to his son. Uther refused to be like his ancestor, and vowed to be a better father in all aspects to his son this time around. Memories of his past life he may not have, but Uther was determined to not let them change who he was now, if they ever surfaced. He refused to become the tyrant blood King of horror legend.
Ygraine, however, was grateful that unlike her ancestor, she would live to know her son. Not to mention, her visions showed her she would live a long and healthy life, able to watch her son grow and flourish, with Merlin by his side. Ygraine thanked the Triple Goddess every day for this boon, and never forgot to be grateful that Lady Magic had spared her life this time around. History had been very clear that what started the purge was Queen Ygraine dying from the magic King Uther had used to sire his heir, and his hatred and blame, which should have turned inwards, was instead turned onto all of the magical community.
“Ygraine?” Uther questioned, and Ygraine looked back with a fond smile to see her husband peeking out the nursery door, cradling little Arthur gently in his arms. “Is he coming? Merlin?”
“Yes.” Ygraine said simply, and watched Uther’s face light up with a smile.
“Wonderful!” Uther exclaimed. “Shall I-“
“It is best that he not see you right away.” Ygraine shook her head, and Uther frowned, before grimacing.
“Ah, yes. I would imagine he doesn’t have the best memories with…my past incarnation.”
Uther sighed sadly, looking down at Arthur, before looking back at Ygraine. Shifting closer, Uther offered Arthur to her.
“I think Merlin will want to see Arthur right away, it might be best that he be within his eyesight at all times.”
Ygraine raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “You are correct. Merlin, from what my visions tell me, is…very protective over our little Prince. It wouldn’t due to insure his anger by keeping Arthur from him.”
Ygraine held Arthur, cooing at his adorable attempts to grab her hair with his little fists.
The wait was full of anticipation, and yet Ygraine could feel Merlin’s magic come closer, by every minute that passed. The ancient Warlock was powerful, the most powerful to have ever, or will ever live, and it showed.
Then, the doorbell rang.