A Legend Lviving His Story [King!EnglandxReaderxKnight!America]

Relive The Days Of Greatness

A.N.
Hey! It's me again! I decided to make another book because really, I love doing this shit so sooooo much! I guess I'll just pursue it haha

I hope I'm doing a good job tho!

And bdw, this story will start 8 years after Arthur left, and he's already king.

Enjoy!

27th of March in the year of Our Lord 1211

Sitting on his comfortable throne with seating made of cushion wrapped in silky, red linen, Arthur stares at the high ceiling made of stone and wood. A golden crown is sitting on his lap, a crown with emeralds and rubies and azures in it. The golden crown sparkled so bright within the dim hall, and shows crystal clear reflection of everything it see. The curtains are closed, no light seeped between them. It had been eight years.
Eight years, and it's still as clear as the reflections in his crown. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He prays to God they're alright. The Middle March was once a Welsh territory and recently, news arrived that the Welsh and English people are having a conflict. Again. Him, as anew king, and the Welsh king had a discussion about the matter, but it seems none of them can do anything about it.
English and Welsh people kept crossing borders to raid towns and rape women and steal food. Both of them had tried to find the cause of it, but they can't. The kings are on good terms, so why are their people not?
A sigh escaped his lips again and when he opened his eyes, the room is bright. The curtains have opened without him even hearing one swish of the silk cloths moving. He looked straight, and saw just several feel away from his throne, is Merlin. He pulled his hood back and Arthur a warm smile.
"I suppose today is not a good day for you, Arthur." The King nodded and leant his chin on his open palm.
"I need to think of a way to stop this quarrel," the King says.
"Visit Middle March. They will be happy to welcome you back,and you can settle matters there. After all, it's where England ends and Wales begins. You should catch some Welshmen crossing borders," Merlin suggested and Arthur perked his head up.
"That's a great idea. Because of all the preparations and events that had happened, I haven't got time to see them, nor evem send one single letter aside from political news," Arthur picks up his crown and put it on his head. He stands up and a small smile made it into his face.
"We will ride from Camelot to the Middle March. Let's go, Merlin," says the King. He was about to leave the throne room when Merlin grabbed his arm and turned him around.
"Not until you have broken a fast," the old man says and Arthur sighs.
"I forgot. Then, let's go."

---

Arthur's unusually enthusiastic with this trip. Usually, he's grumpy and complaining about the sun burning him out, but today, he seems out of character. Merlin stared at him from behind as they ride their horses down the dusty tracks.
Today is a fine day, but from afar, dark clouds are coming. It's to be expected, though. Weather is unpredictable. Arthur was silent the whole trip. It would take only three days to ride from Camelot to the Middle March by horse.

---

Now, Arthur's smile faltered. It took them two days and a half to get to Sir Alex,his foster father's manor. Arthur stares at the familiar looking manor. It has aged, but it showed its strength through its cracks and moss on the walls and its bases. This manor remained strong, and it's nice. He wasn't expecting his foster family to be living in a house made of wood now, is he? Arthur looked back at Merlin and Merlin gave him a small nod back.
"But.. I lost contact to them for eight years. I don't know what they're going to say, especially on this day." Ah, he just remembered today is Sir Alex's birthday. Surely, they're having a feast in the halls.
"And we didn't tell them we're arriving," now, he's staring to panic. Arthur looks back forward and leans against his horse's neck. Tanwen is long dead, but he will never forget the adventures and memories they both had together while working his way to the crown.
He stroked its smooth, pearly white mane, trying to calm himself down. Over thinking had always been his unwanted habit, and it doesn't help him any at all.
"Go on, they will be more surprised to see the king willingly arrive at a knight's feast." Merlin unmounted and took hold of Arthur's horse's reins. Arthur hesitantly unmounted and looked at Merlin once again.
"Tell everything you've wanted to tell anybody." Merlin then went away with the horses. Arthur looked at the ground for awhile, thinking to himself and the words he should say.
The sun is high up in the sky, considering it's afternoon. The sunrays glared at him like how Allistor always do. The dry wind hits his face hard like that one time Seamus slapped him out of habit. The coarse, hot land feels uncomfortable beneath his boots, like how he always felt when he's sitting beside Dylan. But above it all, it's a nice day predicting nice things, he hoped. Just like Alice, his little sister. A smile crept up his face and decided to knock on the door.
With a loud creak, it opened, and he saw another familiar face. Emyrs. She had aged. Her brown hair had several white strands in it, and she grew paler than before. Her age is showing! How old was she when he left? Thirty-seven? Yes, thirty-seven. Now, she's forty-five. She immediately gasped when she saw Arthur, and almost knelt down but the blond stopped her with a nervous smile.
"I'd rather you don't do that." He said and patted her shoulders.
"B-but-"
"It's still me, Arthur. Please call me Arthur under any circumstances. Yes?" Emyrs stayed silent for several seconds, blinking her wrinkly, brown eyes, before speaking up.
"Y-yes, Arthur." The King nodded in satisfaction and Emyrs let him in.
"They're feasting in the same dining hall. Everyone is there, except for the villagers. They will be having their own feast at dinner." Arthur muttered a 'thank you' to Emyrs and started finding his way to the dining hall. The corridors give him nostalgia. It still smells of lilacs and tulips, the ones Lady Elisa use to make soap with. A small smile crept to his face. Every crack, every corner, every painting on the wall, it's all the same. Nothing was changed, but it still remained its beauty.
It didn't take him long to find the dining hall, though. He remembers this place like the back of his hand. And once he did, he knocked softly on the oak door thrice. It still maintained its smell, like it's just been made yesterday. But no, it's still the same door. The small scratches he carved on the door as a child is still there, visible as if it was just yesterday. This house never failed to forget a memory.
Once he was given permission, he effortlessly pushed the heavy doors open and stood by the hallway, still, as he looks back at the extremely surprised expressions of the people inside the hall.

I.

A.N.

How was it?