Chapter Text
Merlin shifted in his seat, the seat belt digging uncomfortably in his neck.
"How does it feel to be back?" Hunith asked, looking at her son through the rearview mirror.
Merlin sighed, slouching in his seat. "To be honest, I'm not too sure."
That was a severe understatement. During the long hours of the plane and car rides, Merlin had a lot of time to sit and douse in his thoughts. Anxiety had built up over the past weeks but it wasn’t until his mother pulled up to their old town that Merlin realized how much he missed his home.
It started when Merlin was five and curious. The age where constant annoying questioning began "Why is the sun yellow? How come chickens can't fly? Are clouds made out of marshmallows?" A little boy curious about the world around him, in constant need of something interesting to occupy his time.
In Merlin’s defence, he lived in a small isolated town, where the most interesting thing to a child was when it rained and made puddles everywhere, Merlin proceeded to jump about in them. Or every month when a new shipment of picture books came in the library and Merlin sat by the window and read for hours, enthralled. Or when Merlin and Will tobogganed down the little hill by the park, since their mothers said they weren’t big enough for the big hill yet. Kids and adults had to create their own fun and entertainment in Ealdor. Despite the lack of excitement in the town, everyone managed to have a little joy in their life.
One morning in January, Merlin woke to a whole team of construction workers tearing down the old creaky house across the street from him. He rushed down the stairs, slipping on his dragon slippers and opening the door for a better look.
Merlin itched to just run across the street and find out what was going on. Just as this thought was processing through his mind, his mother came with a small smile. She always managed to keep Merlin from straying. "We're going to have new neighbours, Merlin, isn’t that exciting?" asked Hunith, gathering an inquisitive little Merlin up in her arms, before he could wander aimlessly.
Merlin shifted in his mother's arms, little eyes filled with eagerness. "Who are they?"
Hunith shrugged. "We don't know yet, the house was just bought the other day and now the owner wanted it re-built."
And so, everyday Merlin stared out of his window to watch the transforming house. Slowly the house was torn down, but little bits and pieces were coming back together in a brand new state. Months passed before news broke of who the new neighbours were.
Pendragon. Uther Pendragon, the multi-millionaire who started Pendragon corporations.
Merlin didn't know who the famous Pendragon family was, but he heard gossip among the older women, and even his teacher was rather excited about the news, probably because she will most likely get to teach Uther's son. And anyone who has ‘Dragon’ in their name, must be pretty cool, little Merlin thought.
When he headed down the stairs one morning, there was an old man sitting on the couch with his mother, mumbling about things. Merlin stayed in the shadows of the hallway, listening to the soft words.
"The poor dears probably just wanted to get away from the big city." Merlin heard his mother whisper.
The old man nodded. "Indeed, the tragic misfortune has been weighing down his heart. Arthur needs a stable environment."
Merlin entered the room, eyes never leaving the stranger. "Mummy?"
Hunith turned around, smiling at her son. "Merlin," she reached out for him, gesturing him over. "This man is Gaius. He’s a friend."
Merlin sat on his mother's lap, peaked up at the man, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Nice to meet you sir." he said cautiously.
Gaius grinned, "A rather polite young man, aren't you?" He produced a lollipop from his front jacket pocket, and all of Merlin’s reservations went out the window.
Although later that night Hunith gave Merlin a lecture on how not everyone who offers candy is a nice person. It took Merlin a while to grasp the concept but managed to go with it regardless.
After endless months of waiting and waiting, the day finally came, when the shiny black convertible was parked in front of the re-modelled home, and a tiny blond boy and a rather intimidating man stepped out and finally made their appearance to the neighbourhood. Merlin rushed down the stairs, much like the time he first saw the construction going on, dragon slippers being hastily shucked onto his feet and he grabbed the doorknob, yanking it open, prepared to make his way out.
But then he was tugged back by his shirt collar. "Whoa there, where do you think you're going?"
Merlin looked up at his mother expectantly, "To see Mr. P'dragon and his son."
Hunith chuckled. "Let's give them a couple of hours to settle in their new house, and then we can go welcome them."
Merlin sat staring out at the window from his bedroom, glaring daggers at the front door of Mr. Pendragon's house. He wanted Mr. Pendragon to hurry up and “settle in” or whatever it was so that he could go see them. A few minutes passed with movers delivering in boxes and a man, who Merlin assumed to be Uther Pendragon, allowed them in. After what seemed like an hour of staring at all of the furniture and electronics being carried into the house, a small blond boy stepped out on to the porch and sat on the porch swing.
Merlin perked up, finally seeing someone his own age. He watched the boy lazily swing himself. Merlin found himself in a daze, merely content at watching the boy, who he assumed was Arthur.
Moments passed, before Arthur abruptly stopped, and he hunched over. He wiped furiously at his nose and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. Merlin frowned. Was Arthur crying? Why was he crying? Didn’t he like Ealdor? Sure it could get pretty boring, but Arthur just got here, he can’t possibly be fed up already.
Merlin peaked out of his room and listened to his mother humming in the kitchen. Merlin quietly progressed down the stairs, careful not to creak any floorboards. Just when he reached the front door--“Where do you think you’re going?” his mother hollered.
Merlin stiffened. After a pause, his mother came into the hall pivoting Merlin around to face her. “I hope you’re not thinking about going to Mr. Pendragon’s they’re still busy.”
Merlin shifted from one foot to the other. “No…”
Hunith gave a half-hearted chuckled. “Alright, just stop by real quick, and then come back.”
Merlin smiled, jumping into his mother’s arms with a quick kiss to her cheek and sprinted out the door.
As soon as their car was parked in front of their old house, Merlin felt himself settle into an odd sort of peace. The house didn’t change much on the outside. The blue paint was re-painted and the front lawn was remarkably groomed.
“I’m going to start bringing things inside,” said Hunith, rummaging through the boxes. “In the meantime, you can go meet up with Will.”
Merlin shook his head. “I called him yesterday, we agreed we’d meet up after dinner.”
Merlin brought up a couple of boxes of his things, to his room.
He couldn’t really tell a major difference in the house on the inside; that was until he started scrutinizing the little details that were missing and looked for the things he remembers leaving behind.
A lot of the little pieces that marked Merlin’s childhood were gone. The tick marks Hunith made on Merlin’s bedroom door, tracking the boy’s height, was painted over in a rich shell-colour. The dent in the hall, when Merlin attempted to rollerblade in the house and soon realized why outdoor activities were meant for outdoors, was patched up and smoothed over. The tomato stain on the carpet in the living room, when Merlin tripped while carrying a tray of spaghetti, was replaced with a fresh new carpet.
Merlin closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of his room, forehead pressed against the window. He felt a lot of things on the ride back to Ealdor, but being in the physical presence of his old town gave him an overwhelming amount of melancholy. When he opened his eyes again, they naturally landed on the Pendragon’s house, almost out of habit. Merlin stiffened and jerked away from the window, pressing his back to the wall. This is stupid.
After a few seconds, he waited until he felt the heat rising to his cheeks cooled and his heart calmed. He took in a deep breath, before opening his eyes and turning to face the window.
He remembers all the times he’s been inside that house and imagining how much it must have changed since then. The exterior wasn’t all that different. It was still unnecessarily big, yet it wasn’t large enough to label it a mansion. The cars weren’t parked in the driveway so he assumed Uther and Arthur were out for the day. How convenient for them.
Merlin was grateful that his mother was transferred only a week before school started. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being holed up in his room for the entire summer, hiding from a certain blond prat.
Despite being reacquainted with his house, he couldn’t help but jerk and flinch whenever someone knocked on the door. A lot of people came to stop by, catching up.
Merlin was paranoid that it was going to be Uther and Arthur, or even worse, just Arthur. He knew he was going to run into Arthur eventually, especially since they did live right in front of each other. But he figured they’d pick up where they left off; avoiding each other. They have done a good job of it for two years before Merlin moved away, and he was determined to not let things escalate further between them besides a cordial Hello or Morning when it was crucially necessary.
As Merlin was setting the table, it almost felt eerie how it was as though they’d never left Ealdor in the first place. The wallpaper and tiles were still the same. Even the wooden cabinets weren’t replaced.
Just when Merlin felt himself relax, the doorbell rang. He automatically tensed.
Hunith stood up before Merlin even got to let out one word. “Don’t even think about it, young man. You sit and enjoy your meal.”
Merlin heard his mother open the creaky door and held his breath, anticipating who the visitor could be.
“Uther!” Merlin felt his palms clam up. “What a surprise. How are you?”
“Very good thank you,” said a familiar voice. It was Uther’s. Rough and deep, not as rich as it used to be, but you could tell the authority In his tone. Merlin remembered the first time he laid eyes on the man, and how unapproachable he seemed. “I just wanted to stop by and welcome you back to Ealdor.”
Hunith chuckled. “Seems like déjà vu.”
Uther chuckled as well. “I know what you mean,” said Uther. “I apologize Arthur couldn’t stop by as well. Unfortunately, he hasn’t returned from his football game yet.”
Merlin shifted in his seat. Did Arthur know I was moving in today? Very likely since news travelled fast in Ealdor and whatever there was to know, the Pendragons were surely the first to receive the news. Is he avoiding me as well? Also, very likely and Merlin wasn’t surprised. He anticipated Arthur to ignore Merlin just as much; possibly more if that was even possible. But that didn’t mean Merlin didn’t feel a twinge of hurt. Just a twinge.
“It’s quite all right, I know Arthur is never the type to waste such a beautiful day,” said Hunith.
They continued a bit of small talk of their careers and how Pendragon’s corporation has launched in Asia, and how Hunith travelled around the world with Merlin.
When the door clicked shut, Merlin was thrown back into reality, staring down at his plate of chicken stir-fry.
Hunith joined Merlin at the table, noticing the way her son sat rigidly straight.
“Why don’t you go over there tomorrow and see how Arthur is doing?” she suggested. “I remember you two used to so inseparable.”
Merlin bit back the instinct to scoff. Somewhere deep inside him, he knew that he may as well get it over with and just stop by to see Arthur. The sooner they get over with their awkward re-introductions, the sooner their parents will stop trying to get them to see each other.
Merlin was going to consider it. Just not today.
It wasn’t until nine o’clock struck, that Will made his appearance. The first thing he did was grab Merlin around the neck and proceeded to capture Merlin in a headlock and tangled up his dark locks even more.
“About time you came around.”
Will grinned. “Eh, you could use all the time you have to get away from me, especially now that you’re here you can bet I’m going to be stick to you like glue.”
Merlin smirked. “Or an annoying pimple that just won’t pop.”
Will shoved him lightly, and flopped on the couch. “Seems like forever since I was last here.” He glanced around and made a show of nestling his butt firmly into the cushion of the sofa.
Merlin laughed, making himself comfortable next to him. “I know, right?”
Will greeted Hunith with his usual cheeky attitude. “My my Hunith you haven’t aged one day since I last saw you.”
To which Hunith responded with a shake of her head and a slight smile. “You better watch over him Merlin, he’s bound to get into trouble with that mouth of his.”
“Don’t worry. Merlin always takes good care of me.”
Will grabbed Merlin’s wrist suddenly and inspected the thin limb. “Dude, you seriously need to eat more. I think you’ve gotten even skinnier since we were kids, which is very concerning my friend,” said Will. “We could probably put an over-size shirt on a chopstick and it could be your twin.”
To which Merlin responded with a cushion smothering Will’s face. They joked and laughed, catching up with each other. They built a fort in the living room using couch cushions and blankets. Merlin made popcorn and flipped on the T.V. bits of popcorn littered around the sofa and the carpet. It’s nice returning to this, Merlin thought.
Not long after, they fell asleep in the dark room with David Tennant echoing in the background.
Arthur’s head snapped up and glared suspiciously at Merlin, furiously wiping away his tears. “Who are you?”
Merlin didn’t recall the hostility in Arthur’s voice and merely offered a toothy grin. “I’m Merlin, I live across the street from you.”
Arthur glanced behind the boy and at the house and wrinkled his nose. “Your house is weird… and small.”
Merlin shrugged. “It’s not, your house is just really big.” To prove his point Merlin waved his hand at all of the other houses surrounding Arthur’s giant house.
Merlin sat beside Arthur, possibly too close, but Arthur didn’t make any kind of protest, which Merlin took as an ‘okay’. “Why were you crying?”
Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. “I was not crying.”
Merlin frowned. “Yes you were, I saw you wiping your face a minute ago.”
Arthur dropped his arms and tilted his head. “When did you see that?”
“Through the window at my house. I wanted to come by earlier, but mama said it was too soon, and that it’s not nice to see someone right after their delivery truck comes by, so I sat in front of my window and waited until mama said I could come over and--“
“You talk too much.” Arthur interrupted without any annoyance.
Merlin blinked. “Is that bad?”
Arthur nodded. “But not all that time, sometimes it can get boring if one person does all the talking though.”
Merlin hummed. “So where are you from?”
Arthur stared down at his feet, swinging them back and forth, “Camelot.”
Merlin gaped at him. “That’s pretty far. Why did you move here?”
“Father wanted to come here.” Arthur said in a clipped tone.
“Oh.” Merlin could tell Arthur didn’t feel like talking about the reason why he had to move, which was fine by Merlin since sitting and talking wasn’t exactly his kind of fun.
Merlin glanced over at his house and back at Arthur. “Do you want to come over and have some ice-cream? We have chocolate and vanilla, so you can pick whatever you like.”
Arthur looked at Merlin like he grew another head, but a small smile was threatening to tug at Arthur’s stone hard demeanor. “But I haven’t had lunch yet. Father says dessert always comes after a proper meal.”
“You can come over after lunch then.” He urged. “Or you can come over for lunch too.”
“I’ll ask father and then tell you if I can.” Arthur dashed inside and Merlin waited on the porch, controlling the urge to bounce up and down with excitement.
Not a moment later, Arthur came back out with a scary man close behind him. “Father, this is Merlin.” Merlin stood up, dusting away any dirt from his pants and grinned up at the man.
“Hello Mr. P’dragon, I’m Merlin, I live across the street from you.”
The man couldn’t help but break into a wide smile at the impossibly cute attempt at his name. He crouched down to Merlin’s height and shook the little boy’s tiny hand. “Hello there Merlin, I’m Uther Pendragon. I’m afraid Arthur has to unpack a few more things and eat lunch before he can visit you and your mother. Maybe in an hour or so he can come by for a visit.”
Merlin resisted a pout. He agreed and made his way back home, flopped back onto the couch. He stared up at the clock hanging above the tv. An hour.
“Mama!” Merlin called and rushed to the entrance of the kitchen. Hunith never allows Merlin inside the kitchen when she making something. Mostly because it’s dangerous for a five-year-old to wander in a kitchen, especially one with no sense of boundaries or one who can’t keep their hands off the cookie jar.
Huntih came out, stirring a batch of cookie mix. “Yes, honey?”
“How do you know when an hour passed?” asked Merlin, eyes never leaving the clock, virtually hypnotized by the ticking of the clock.
Hunith put the batter down and lifted Merlin up in her arms and went to the clock. “See this hand?” she asked, pointing at the smaller hand of the clock.
Merlin nit his eyebrows together. “That’s a hand?”
Hunith laughed. “Well, yes and no. People just call it a hand. Now see this smaller hand?” Merlin nodded. “An hour has passed when this little hand reaches the 4 and the longer hand reaches the 10.” When she placed Merlin back on his feet, he scrambled to the couch hoisting himself up and resumed staring at the clock. “Why the sudden interest in time?”
“Arthur’s going to come over in an hour.” Hunith frowned and was about to interrogate her son when Merlin hurriedly explained. “He already asked his dad, and Mr. P’dragon said he could and I greeted him too, just so that I wasn’t rude.”
Hunith relaxed and barely hid a tired little smile. “Alright. As long as Mr. Pendragon said it was fine.”
Merlin nodded enthusiastically. Merlin brought a new picture book he borrowed from the library and began to read to himself out loud. Every now and then he glanced up at the clock and pouted when the “hands” barely budged. When he asked his mother if the clock was working, his mother chuckled and ruffled his hair. She said yes it’s working and Merlin was going to have to be patient. An hour wasn’t long at all, as long as Merlin found a way to forget about it and just enjoy the hour to himself. But Merlin couldn’t avoid the way his eyes gradually gravitated to the clock.
In the end, Merlin gave up and tossed himself on the couch as the television played Harry Potter. His eyes unintentionally focused on the clock, falling into a trance with every tick. One hour.
Merlin woke to the rumbling of Arthur’s sports car. He heard the engines long before it made it into their road, pulling into the driveway. Merlin curled into his chest, ignoring the thumping of his heart echoing in a stentorian rhythm. He looked to his left at Will, asleep with his head lolling forward.
Moments passed and Merlin sat with his favourite green blanket wrapped snug around him, heart ready to implode under the rapid beating. He sat there debating whether or not he should peek out his front window. Something he’s been doing a lot of today.
Merlin always imagined how much Arthur changed. He wondered if he'd still be able to recognize Arthur. He wondered if puberty was merciful on Arthur. He wondered if Arthur still had his baby blond hair, or if he chose to dye it. He wondered if Arthur grew taller than him. Or if he got any tattoos and piercings.
Of course, he thought of adding Arthur on Facebook just to ease his curiosity but then thought better of it. He didn’t want to fall into a creepy stalker category.
There was so much Merlin conjured up of Arthur, to the point where he convinced himself he was borderline obsessed with his ex-childhood friend. Now here was his opportunity to finally put his imagination at ease.
Merlin stood up letting the blanket pool around the carpet, before tiptoeing towards the window. He felt his palms moisten and his ears flush. He knew he was over-reacting but he was going to see the boy who he hasn’t seen for four years, the boy who captivated him from day one.
He closed his eyes as he pulled back the curtain. He counted three, two, one, then snapped his eyes up at the Pendragon’s house. It was dark, but the streetlights were bright enough to make out the scenery. Merlin squinted until he focused on a dark figure whose back was faced towards Merlin, a patch of light hair, and broad shoulders opening the front door—Arthur.
At that moment Merlin fought the urge to duck down and hide. But just as quickly as Merlin got a glimpse of Arthur, he was gone, leaving only an empty porch.
Merlin felt pathetic. He probably looked just as pathetic as he felt. He sighed, walking back to his spot next to Will. He tucked his legs against his chest, wrapping his arms around them, huddling his face in his knees. He was angry at himself. Angry that even after this long, nothing really changed. He was angry at Arthur for making him feel this way for this long. He was angry that his feelings didn’t make any sense whatsoever. Oh gosh, I sound worse than an entire series of teen angst movies.