It was Gwyneth Wayne's sorry task to tell Eliane Smithson that Lance Lackey was dead. It was not a pleasant thing to inform a friend of another friend's passing, but she was being pragmatic about it - it would be better for Ellie to hear it from her than from some stranger of a doctor. Unfortunately, Gwynne's plan was being foiled by Ellie's failure to wake up - she was still unconscious in a hospital room. Gwynne had nothing better to do than to wait for Ellie to wake up, but the only result of that plan was that she was not awake either when the stranger arrived.

A well worn boot nudged the chair that Gwynne was sleeping in, jolting her from her dreamland and back into alertness. She blinked at the man towering over her a couple of times, and then said, "You'd better have a good reason for interrupting my sleep. I was having a dream about eating a cheese that tasted of apple pie."

The stranger looked absolutely astonished by that statement, although by the logic of dreams, that was not a particularly astonishing thing to have happened.

"You're miss Wayne, I presume?"

"That's me, yes. Gwyneth Wayne."

The man apparently found this funny, because his face broke into a grin, and he laughed. He was quite pretty when he laughed, and it broke the tension, so Gwynne laughed along with him, although she was unsure what was so funny.

"Who are you?" she asked after a while. "You don't look like a doctor. Are you police?"

"Good question," he said, "I am neither of those things, though I've acted as both on occasion. I've made sure the police stays out of this particular incident, I think you'll agree that's for the best. How about you tell me what happened to you and your friends?"

She eyed him suspiciously, making it no secret that his deflection had been noticed, but there was something persuasive about him that made her comply.

"We were sparring in the forest," she began, "Short arms. Medieval re-enactment, you know? Well, Ellie and I were fighting and Lance was observing when this bloke just showed up. His getup was well impressive, all black plate armour. Couldn't see his face. And his sword… This was a real sword." She swallowed. "We stopped the fight to ask who he was, see if he wanted to practice with us… Well, he didn't, did he. He bore down on Lance immediately, he barely had time to lift his knife to defend himself. I'm sorry," she broke off, "You look so familiar. Do I know you?"

"I'm not sure," the man admitted, "Though I have a suspicion we might have known each other a long time ago."

"Right… Right, sorry. So, they fought. Lance was the best fighter I've ever known, but in the long run, he didn't have a chance. We scrambled to help him, but the armoured dude sliced right through him. There was… Blood…" she shivered and grimaced at the memory.

"It's alright. Take your time. I know death isn't as common a sight as it used to be."

This comment earned him raised eyebrows.

"Lance going down turned out to be our salvation. I knocked him over the head, and I think that surprised him, because when he turned, Ellie managed to wrest his sword from him. I pushed him, which took a lot more strength than you'd think, he didn't look that big even with the armour, but it was like shoving a mountain… She managed to get the sword in him, and then he just… Disintegrated. Into black smoke. The sword too, and then Ellie was down on the ground. The doctor's can't find anything wrong with her, but she's not woken up yet."

"Don't worry, she will be fine."

"Why am I not in prison? I mean, they found me next to a dead guy and an unconscious girl, with no-one to blame but a ghost. I know which conclusion I'd jump to."

"I told you; I've taken care of it. You're safe for now, although I would keep an eye open for other… Strange occurrences. If you should need any help with those, feel free to call me."

He handed her a business card. It was plain, white, with a number printed on it. No address, no company. Only the letter M served as identification.

"Likewise," she mumbled. The man grinned again, and Gwynne modified her assessment of that act from 'cute' to 'mildly terrifying.'

"I might just hold you to that."

When Merlin returned to the flat, Arthur was watching television. That was his main way of learning about this new world, and it had been working quite well once he'd gotten the hang of distinguishing between shows that portrayed a somewhat realistic setting, and shows that were made up fictions. It took some getting used to, but Arthur's skills of adaption were extraordinary - confused, of course, but massively excited about oddities like flush toilets and microwaves.

"I'm back," Merlin announced.

"Welcome home," came the reply. As he entered the living room, Arthur looked up with a blinding grin on his face. "I watched a film about me earlier," he imparted, "It was the strangest thing. I don't think I understood much of it."

"Ah." Merlin let gravity drag him down on the sofa next to Arthur and wriggled free a piece of the yellow mush that was laying on a plate on the coffee table. "You know, I don't think it's entirely necessary to microwave pineapple slices. Which film was it? The one where you're a kid and I'm a loony old man, the one where Gwen and I are painted blue, or the one where you're sent to find a shrubbery?"

"The one with the shrubbery. It was funny. I think. It left me rather confused."

"That's what it does to most people. Sadly, it's also one of the more accurate ones."

"Are you serious? There were police officers. Police officers. I an assure you, should your memory be failing, we never encountered any of those back in the day."

Merlin chuckled. For some reason, Arthur didn't seem to trust the modern systems of law and order. They watched some inane advertisements in silence until Arthur tore his gaze away from the screen to look at his companion.

"What's marriage equality?" he asked. Merlin nearly choked on a piece of tepid pineapple. "I'm sorry, is that an awkward question, perhaps?"

"No, no," Merlin answered, wiping his mouth, though his cheeks had pinked a little, "Not at all, just unexpected, that's all."

"Well, there was a news item on where the term kept being repeated as a vital issue, but they failed to explain what kind of issue it was. Normally I can understand these new things from their context, but this time, no such luck."

When it came to modern words, Arthur was unexpectedly proficient. He had awoken already speaking the vernacular, though some words denoting very recent concepts were foreign to him. Already on the journey home, Merlin had asked what he made of the word 'wanhogan,' and thrown his head back in near hysterical laughter when Arthur said it sounded like a magic spell.

"Well, marriage equality is simply the right for people to marry whomever they want. Specifically, for men to be able to marry men and women to be able to marry women."

"Right. That sounds… Odd."

"I know. A thousand odd years and people still aren't allowed to love freely. Man moves slowly."

Arthur furrows his brow and looks pensive.

"I'm glad we didn't have that, marriage equality, in Camelot," he concludes.

"Really? What, does it make you uncomfortable."

"Not exactly," Arthur said, taking his time, evidently weighing his words and figuring out his position as he went along, "It just sounds very complicated. How would people produce heirs? And besides, it's hard enough to find a suitable woman to marry even without being distracted by… Well, too much choice isn't always a good thing."

Merlin was chuckling again, and it was Arthur's turn to look slightly bashful.

"I suppose there is a point in there, somewhere, but this is a different world, remember. The restrictions of the past are being broken left, right and centre. As for reproduction, well, that's not nearly as important as it used to be. Keeping the species alive is hardly an issue. Besides, they have found alternative ways to create children."

"That sounds sinister to me."

"Don't worry," Merlin got up and ruffled Arthur's hair before reaching to pick up a mobile phone that had been tossed haphazardly on the edge of the table. "I won't traumatise you with the details of test tubes quite yet. It's a perfectly lovely concept, but you're evidently not ready. Now, what do you say to some pizza?"

When Arthur didn't watch programs on the TV, he spent quite some time looking out the window. Merlin had, unprompted, advised him not to venture out on his own, and he had grumbled, but never showed any true wish to go outside. Peering out at the world, though, was part of his adjustment. The night preceding this particular bout of staring had been a bad one for nightmares. He had been stuck in one of those hospital institutions that they brought sick people to nowadays, and he had been trying to find Merlin, who had, presumably, taken ill. But no-one would tell him where Merlin was, and the corridors were stretching and winding into a labyrinth, illuminated by that strange, modern light that made his eyes hurt. He ran into blank-faced doctors and nurses, and claimed to be Merlin's employer, friend, husband, brother, any meaningful relation he could think of, and still no-one would help. He had woken up soaked in sweat and disorientated and ran straight into Merlin's room to check if he was still there. He couldn't sleep again in his own room, so he had fallen asleep there, in a chair. When he woke up, Merlin was gone, but his duvet was wrapped closely around Arthur.

The door opened and closed somewhere behind him.

"Hi, Arthur!" Merlin's voice called out.

"Hi," Arthur replied.

"You alright?"

"Yes. Sorry about last night, by the way. I shouldn't have woken you up like that, it was rather weak of me. It was just a dream. But… Well, you are the only thing I've got left now, Merlin. I can't stand the thought of losing you, too."

Merlin's hand squeezed his shoulder.

"I'm not going anywhere." Then he abruptly changed the subject. "Have you heard of reincarnation?"

"Um, yes, it's when people believe they can come back after death as beetles or horses or something, isn't it?"

"Yes. Or as another human being."

"It sounds highly unlikely to me."

"Says the man who slept in a lake for close to fifteen hundred years after dying of an enchanted stab wound."

"Point taken."

"I didn't believe in it either, but I have come across some interesting… Findings lately."

He handed Arthur a sheet of paper with some names and initials on it. Arthur frowned.

"Gwaine?" he read.

"It says G. Wayne, actually," Merlin corrected, "But yes, I do believe that's him. And E. Smithson is Elyan. L. Lackey, Lancelot. It must be then; can see no other explanation."

"How queer," mumbled Arthur, squinting at the paper and running his finger along the writing, as if touching the names would make it clearer to him how these were his old comrades.

"It gets stranger. Gwaine and Elyan appear to be women now."

"Women?" this did confuse Arthur.

"Yes. All the same except definitely female. Lancelot appears to have been a man. I can't seem to find a pattern."

"Have been?"

"Yes. He's dead."

"Oh. That's… A shame. I should have liked to see him again."

"Even after all that happened?"

"That was a long time ago. I forgave Guinevere, I can forgive him, too."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"How did he die this time?"

"He died… Strangely. That's the only word for it. His death is how I found them in the first place - they were attacked by a mysterious spectre in full plate armour." this made Arthur raise his eyebrows. "Lance died fighting, but they managed to overpower it, and it vanished in a puff of smoke. There is magic here, Arthur. Things are moving that haven't been in motion since you were king of Camelot. Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon, he said you would return when Albion's need was greatest. It is evident that you were brought back for a reason, and that reason is approaching. We're going to need these knights," he gestured at the paper still in Arthur's hand, "And any others we can come across. But there you have it; you are not alone. And I'm not all you've got. I don't know what's going to happen, but we'll be ready. We'll be ready when it comes."

It was evening, and Merlin and Arthur were cooking. Merlin had insisted that Arthur learn to cook, because in the twenty-first century nobody kept servants running around doing every single bloody thing for them. Arthur had countered that in the twenty-first century there was such a thing as takeout, and the fortune that Merlin had saved up over the years was substantial enough to make sure frugality was unnecessary. The discussion had gone Merlin's way eventually, something that seemed to be a recurring tendency, about which Arthur expressed some worry.

Merlin was about halfway through cutting the third out of four carrots when he caught on to the fact that there was no sound of movement behind him. He laid down his knife and turned to face Arthur, who for a while had stood there, quite still, watching him.

"What?" Merlin asked suspiciously.

Arthur placed one hand on either side of his face and kissed him. Merlin immediately pulled away.

"Arthur," he warned, his voice shaking. "Don't. Please don't."

Arthur stepped back, too. His face wavered between surprise and hurt, as if it wasn't sure which expression to fall into. The result was a sort of emotional limbo, to which Merlin responded with hurried explanations.

"I know that this age has opened a few doors to you, and I think it's great that you're trying new things. But even though I realise you don't have many options of people to try with, I have to ask you not to do this to me. I can't be your experiment, Arthur. I care about you too much. To have you only for… It would be too close. That would break me."

"Only for what?"

Merlin didn't answer. He shook his head and made to return to his carrots, but Arthur rolled his eyes and grabbed his shoulders.

"And you say I'm overbearing," he muttered. Then he said, apropos of nothing, "I can remember the first time we met, you know. Clear as day. You were an insolent upstart, a big-mouthed country bumpkin that came out of nowhere. I wouldn't have egged you on if I hadn't so wanted to touch you… I didn't know why, I just…" his left arm slid from Merlin's shoulder to his elbow. "I think I knew already how much I was going to need you. I've always needed you since then. Wanted you, though I'd never admit it. I do remember when I first woke up, what I said. And it's true. If I could have anyone, I'd choose you, always. I don't want you to be an experiment. Yes, you're right, doors have opened. Things are different now. I can allow myself to know how I feel about you, and to give it a name. To call it love. I love you, Merlin. I always have and always will."

Merlin hadn't moved since Arthur started talking. Now he lifted his hand to Arthur's face.

"I love you too," he whispered.

"Good."

Arthur pulled him into a tight hug.

"But… You were married."

"If anyone knew, it would have been her. She both loved and pitied me; I could never figure out which feeling was stronger."

Merlin buried his face in the crook of Arthur's neck, still shaking.

"I'm crying again. I'm sorry. It's overwhelming, I never thought… I was content to live in your shadow. I didn't expect to have this. Sorry."

"You do have me. There's nothing to apologise for."

He kissed him again, and this time Merlin kissed back, clinging to him almost with desperation.

"I love you," he whispered against Arthur's lips, into his skin, his hair. "I love you, I love you, you absolute prat." Arthur laughed, joyful and uninhibited. With his hands well inside Arthur's shirt, Merlin sighed with annoyance. "We couldn't have done this after dinner? I'm not about to leave a half cooked meal lying around and going to waste, but all of a sudden there are plenty of other activities that seem more tempting."

"Such impatience," Arthur scolded playfully, gently pulling away from Merlin.

"Well, yes. My great, unattainable love has just been proved not so unattainable, at the back end of nearly fifteen hundred years of celibacy. I think I'm allowed a bit of impatience."

That statement was enough to pull Arthur back to his previous activity of marking Merlin's neck with kisses, but he composed himself soon enough.

"Dinner first," he mumbled.

"Trust you to choose this moment to suddenly act like a gentleman."

But in spite of his grumbling, Merlin smiled wider than he had for as long as he could remember when he returned to the carrots. Although, finishing that dinner took quite a lot longer than it might have.

~End