(Authors Note: SEQUEL TO FAREWELLS! I still don't own Merlin or the Arthurian Legend. Ok if you have not read my other story Farewells go read it first! )

Returning

Part 1 Facing The Past

I kept my hood up but no one noticed. I knew every nook and cranny of this place. Walking into the market was like a dream, nothing had changed over all this time. I smiled up the inn and hesitated. Should I? Or should I go to. . .? No I was here to stop something that could only be stopped from outside the citadel. It also meant I would have to do something I never thought I'd have to do. I would have to enter the open tournament.

{Arthur's POV}

I awoke once more to George's curt "Good morning Sire!" and his explanation of what the weather was like. I was almost excited for today. It marked the first ever open tournament since before my father died. Since before Merlin. . . I sighed my good mood evaporating. Gwen had no doubt been awake for hours, doing whatever mischievous thing she had planned with her maidservant, Joana.

Sighing I stretched and George began to help me get dressed. At least the tournament would cheer me up a little. I smiled to myself, remembering Merlin's protests that the open tournament was a very bad plan.

{Merlin's POV}

For the record I still thought this was a bad idea, but I had to figure out which of the contestants was the assassin I had been tracking through four of the five kingdoms. He had been paid quite a sum of money to kill Arthur, worse he was a shifter.

I had encountered his ilk quite a lot over the past seven years. But that hardly mattered. I was so happy that I could practically fly, which I had actually learned how to do, but I restrained myself. I was home. Maybe I could stay. From what I heard Deric of Mercia had been killed almost two years ago but I had been in France when that had happened. So I hadn't known it was safe to come home. I wanted desperately to run to Gaius and apologize. I wanted to beg Arthur for my old job back; I had missed my home sorely these long years.

But first I had to take care of this shifter. But the advantage was mine for now. He had only seen me as an old man, a little spell from back in the old days, but now that I had taken the antidote I was me again.

I wondered if anyone would actually recognize me, or even remember me. I had grown at least two inches and hadn't had a decent haircut in a while. It wasn't out of control but it was getting a little scruffy. I still somehow couldn't manage to grow a real beard but I had the beginnings of one, Arthur would have called it stubble.

But one thing was certain; he couldn't call me a girl anymore. I might not be any more graceful than before but I had learned to use my clumsiness as my secret weapon.