A Righteous Return - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

[ihadabadday]

Once Upon a Time in a kingdom far away and filled with magic and dragons, there was a King and his Wizard. Together they did great things, bringing peace to the world and to its people. They were the best of friends, as close as any two men could be. Until one day the King was gravely injured defending his Wizard...

He gasped as the arrow struck his shoulder. Just between the gap in his armor. Too low to be anything but fatal. He knew that. But he was the King of England. He wielded Excalibur. He would not go down with out a fight. Of course /he/ would call him foolish for this. For defending him in this way. He was a sorcerer, a wizard, after all.

His knees gave out as the blood loss started to affect him. He barely noticed as strong arms came around him.

"It's okay." He assured the man, "You'll be okay. If... I'll return." He coughed a bit, feeling the pain. But it was all okay. His friend. His Wizard was alive. He pressed Excalibur into the man's hands.

"Return this to the Lady of the Lake. Please. It needs to be safe." He knew what would happen if it was in the wrong hands.

He didn't have much time. He knew that. He reached up and touched his Wizard's face. "Find me again." He managed before he closed his eyes, arm falling limply to his side.

The King of the Brits, of England, was gone.

---

John shot up in bed, gasping for breath. He pressed a hand to his face and took a deep breath. Another nightmare. So many had piled up over the years. Loosing Arthur, the two Great Wars. Even recent events were enough to make him frightened. He got out of bed and walked over to the window. After opening the blinds, he stared out at the blinking lights. Albion had changed so much in recent time. Just the past hundred years alone. He let out a sigh.

There had been one time in all these years the had started to feel Arthur return. During the second Great War... The need for him was great then than it had been years earlier during the first. He pressed a fist to the window and sighed. "Arthur, we need you..." There was the unspoken, I need you. It was always unspoken. He had never dared tell the King. He couldn't, not when he had a Queen that adored him so and who he adored in return.

He let out a long held breath and looked back out to the night sky. He didn't need this flatshare, but it was convenient to be around people again.

---

He had been living with Sherlock Holmes for three months now. Just long enough to know he could stand the man, but not long enough to really know how he felt about the man. Other than... Okay.

John had left Sherlock lying on the couch when he went off to work. The A&E. He loved working in emergency medicine. He could help people and keep an eye out for Arthur and the Knights.

Of course, this was the day when a psych patient broke out and started to wave a scalpel at everyone. John stepped in front of a nurse only to get stabbed in the neck. He put his hand up to press against the wound, trembling. Oh, shock. He slowly sunk to the ground as he heard his coworkers starting to swarm.

And it was about fifteen minutes later that Sherlock's mobile started going off.

Comments

[seaweed_writes]

No. He wasn't going to let it go so easily.

"John." He stood up, tossing the afghan onto the couch. "There is something going on here. Tell me, and then I will tell you if I believe you." There was no way he was going to sleep now, even though it was not close to half one.

"Tell me. I've seen some.. unusual things lately, and I need answers."

[ihadabadday]

John let out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face. "Christ. You're as annoying as he was." Sometimes Arthur got on every single last nerve that he had.

"Magic is real. I am a wizard." He answered.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock gave him a look of confusion. "I am as annoying as whom?" He asked.

But before he could ask anything further, John dropped that bomb on him. What in the world did he mean that magic was real? Darren Brown was the preeminent magician on Britain, but Sherlock could easily see through his tricks.

"A wizard? John. You are a doctor and a former solider. I have never seen you try to do any magic tricks, but I can imagine that you would be rubbish at it." He was not taking this seriously. Magic is real. What a preposterous notion.

[ihadabadday]

"Oh for the love of..." he sighed and flicked his hand, a ball of flame appearing above it.

"Not those damn magicians they tout they're magic. Real honest to god magic."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock could count the times in his life when he had been rendered completely speechless on one hand, and have fingers to spare

But that.. that.. well.. that had rendered him speechless.

It wasn't an illusion, he could see it with his own eyes, and even feel the warmth of the fire as it danced in his friend's hand.

"Magic.. like Merlin... the magician from the Arthurian legends... " He finally said, his voice barely over a whisper. He hesitated on the name.. like he was almost afraid to speak it.. His mind was cast back for just a millisecond- a flash of pain, and a man in front of him, speaking to him, but he couldn't hear or lip read what he was saying.

"Like.... Merlin?" He said again.. it was more of a question this time.

[ihadabadday]

He kept his eyes focused on the ball of fire. "Not like... Am." John replied.

"They're not just tales. They're history. Real. I lived it. I saw Camelot." He spoke carefully, cautiously.

"I know where all the Knights are buried and... And the King."

"I am Merlin Emrys." John finally raised his head and looked at Sherlock.

Suddenly he didn't care if his flatmate thought he was crazy. It was nice to get that off his chest, let it out in the open.

[seaweed_writes]

There was a long pause when Sherlock was silent. It was partially because for a few moments, he wasn't quite sure what exactly to say, but it was more so because he was taking all of the information in, parsing it out, making sense of it.

If that could even be done.

"I know." He said, before he could think about what he was saying. "Somehow, when I said the name, I knew that was you. And that makes no sense to me. How could I know? You are John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fuseliers. At least, that is what you told me. I;m not exactly sure if that is the truth or not any more, though you do certainly hold yourself in a military fashion."

Sherlock clearly by the way he was studying the man in front of him, the man he thought was John Watson, did not think he was crazy, or that he was lying. Not any more at least.

"If you are who you say you are... " He started, choosing his words carefully. "Then... why come to me? Why tell me that you are.. Merlin.. that you know magic, and that you are apparently millennia old, if not older? Why me, of all the seven billion people on earth?"

Sherlock had a feeling that there was more to this, though he wasn't thoroughly convinced that he wanted to know.

[ihadabadday]

"Because you are you and I am me." He answered. "Sherlock. I trust you with my secret because.... Because I love you."

John looked down, face flaming red. Did he really just say that? Admit his feelings. Well shit.

That had not been planned. He actually had never planned on telling Sherlock. He just wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there for the next hundred years or so.

He shifted, keeping his gaze firmly on the floor.

[seaweed_writes]

"I thought that you were John and I am Sherlock.. but... that doesn't seem to be the case for you..." His words were stolen from his mouth before Sherlock could utter another syllable.

And for the second time in just a few minutes, John Watson (well, not actually John Watson, he thought to himself) had rendered him speechless.

"You... " He blinked a couple of times, at a loss at what to say or do. It wasn't that he didn't have feelings for John. He most certainly did. But this revelation, coming on top of everything else that John- (NOT JOHN!) had just told him, left him bereft of words.

"You are... immortal... I am just a man..." He regretted the words as soon as they said them, but he continued. "I will grow old and die as you live on."

[ihadabadday]

"I actually prefer being John Watson. That is legally my name. I was in the military. I did go to medical school. All the things you deduced about me are true. I just also happen to be Merlin..." he said still not looking upmarket

After a moment of no reply, he looked up. Sherlock was staring at him a bit gobsmacked. He licked his lips and made a choice.

He moved over to Sherlock, put his hands on the man's face and kissed him.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock still had no idea how to reconcile the whole idea that this man in front of him was both John Watson, and the supposedly fictional and apparently immortal Merlin the Magician.

If he had wanted to say anything- not that he would have known what to say, it was all taken away when John kissed him.

John KISSED him.

There a moment of shock before Sherlock leaned into the kiss. It wasn't long or overly passionate, it was a statement of fact, and of purpose. He wasn't quite sure who pulled away first, or maybe the did at the same time. It didn't really matter.

Sherlock blinked, licking his lips so he could taste John for just a moment more.

And he was silenced, for the third time.

But in the best kind of way.

[ihadabadday]

"I think I shocked you into silence." John noted. He steered Sherlock to sit down, taking advantage of the shell shocked man.

That had been a lot of admitting things. Things that he had always assumed would be a secret. But he felt good.

[seaweed_writes]

Somewhere deep in his mind, Sherlock was grateful for John steering him towards a chair. Standing seemed to be getting more and more of an impossibility with each admission that passed from John's or whomever he is- lips.

He was still silent as he sat, but he managed to get his breathing and heart rate back under control after a few moments.

He blinked and looked up at John, studying him... REALLY looking at for what seemed like the first time.

Sherlock opened his mouth, and then closed it a couple of times, still trying to think of the right thing to say.. or ANYTHING to say.

[ihadabadday]

"Did I break you?" John poked Sherlock's cheek. It was a bit unusual for him. But he hoped it would knock the man out of whatever this was.

But the gobsmacked expression on his flatmate's face was hilarious. John sat down and just started to giggle. He couldn't help it.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock frowned as soon as he heard John start to giggle. He wasn't sure if he was glad or upset that the man's laughter was pulling him out of his shock.

"How is this in any way funny?" He asked, still frowning.

There were so many questions in his mind, and yet his brain decided to be petulant and childish and asked that one.

He groaned internally, but his face didn't betray that he was angry at himself for saying that, of all things.

[ihadabadday]

"I don't know. I really don't."

John was smiling. He hadn't really smiled since that first night with Sherlock after that insane chase through the city. It had been so exhilarating. He had loved every of it.

"Sherlock.... I'm still the same person you met a few months ago. Just another facet to me."

[seaweed_writes]

The frown faded away, until he was back to his own normal, neutral countenance.

"You cannot truly expect me to just go back to thinking of you as the boring, normal John H. Watson, can you?" He asked, a bit incredulously.

"There are many questions that demand answers, such as, why did your neck heal and yet you still have a scar from when you were shot in Afghanistan?"

His eyes thinned. "Or... is that not from Afghanistan?" even if that was the case and it was a much older scar, that would mean it would be less likely to show, instead of the angry pink star shaped scar that it was.

[ihadabadday]

"It is an old wound. But being shot in Afghanistan caused the scar to deepen." The blonde ran a hand through his hair.

"It.. It was originally wounded during the battle when the King died. An enemy arrow struck my shoulder." He said distantly, "I don't have many memories until probably a year after that. What I can recall are bits and pieces."

He looked at Sherlock. "I was supposed to protect him. And I failed."

[seaweed_writes]

"The king.... Arthur." Sherlock said, a comment, not a question. "You were guarding Arthur, and you were overwhelmed by the enemy." He paused for a moment. "And you have carried the guilt for.. a millennia, or more." He was not accusatory. In fact, there was a tiny hint of what could almost be called sadness to his voice. "Even though you did all that you could." As he spoke his voice lowered, until he was almost whispering.

"And I am sure the king understood that you had done everything that you could. You may be a... wizard." He still found it hard to say that "But you are only one person, and one person cannot hold off an entire army."

[ihadabadday]

"We had been betrayed and... The Knights were scattered. I was trying so hard to protect him. The idiot. He took an arrow for me. He shouldn't have done that. Albion needed him more than it needed me."

John didn't look up. He had been carrying the guilt around for so long. So very long. Loosing Arthur. Loosing his friend, his King.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock didn't even notice that he was rubbing his shoulder, right where Arthur had been shot so long ago. He was quiet, looking at John- REALLY looking at him... He could smell the fires and see the gleam of armor in the sun.. and his shoulder hurt... it really hurt.

"J-john...?"

[ihadabadday]

His head shot up and he stared at Sherlock. "What is it?" He asked. John rose to his feet and moved over to the other man.

"What do you need?" He asked putting his hands on Sherlock's face. There was worry obvious on him.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock blinked a couple of times, like he was looking at John for the first time ever.

"I know you. I have seen you before. I can't explain it." he held his shoulder again. "There is something that you aren't telling me. What is is, John?"

[ihadabadday]

"I'm not hiding anything from you." John said. He honestly didn't know what Sherlock was talking about. He ran a hand over his face and shook his head.

"Well, the there is the fact that the twelve Knights of the Round Table are waking. Which means there is a threat to England. Which means that Arthur may waken. Which is unlikely because he didn't wake during World War II and that was when the country needed him most."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock thinned his eyes, he wasn't totally convinced that John wasn't holding something back, but he didn't press the matter further when John started to explain about the knights.

"So, whomever are the descendants or reincarnations of the original twelve Knights of the Round Table, they are starting to remember who they were." He said, his mind mulling over possibilities and thoughts at a breakneck speed.

"They have lived their lives thusfar in relative normality, but are starting to have visions of knights and great battles and a wizard." He phrased it carefully, mimicking what he had seen but hadn't told John. "And they are starting to realize that they are knights?"

He paused, not sure how to ask the next question. "Have you... found any knights so far?"