So we meet again... (a merthur au)

The Long Way Home

Three months had passed from the weekend at the lake with his parents when Arthur got his first real vacation from work (injury leave not withstanding) and he planned on not taking Wade this time. It was too far.

The memories of himself as a king had somewhat returned over time, mostly fractals of routine and barking orders at Merlin. He could see the tender face of Gwen, and of Morgana, and his knights beginning to leave lasting impressions-- even his father, who looked much like his own now; save for a darker expression and a ghastly thinness to his figure, one unfit for a former king.

Arthur, Morri, and Finn were still close but did not drink together like they had before. There was a tensioned silence between them at the absence of Emrys, of Merlin, which made them feel lonely. Finn focused on his girlfriend, and Morri focused more deeply on the restructuring of his practice. Morri would watch Wade while he was gone, for however long he needed.

Arthur wanted to look for his past selves again, travel Europe in their shadows, though he wished to forego America with such being as it were. Plus, he felt he remembered all the important things in such an average life in which his love was the only extraordinary component.

He would relive his life as King and as artist. He would piece himself together again. He would travel and find himself.

...

He wished to go to see Stuart Thithe's remaining paintings, currently displayed in a small gallery in Bristol. It was a little over an hour and a half by train and would be on the way to where he really wanted to visit, Winchester. One of the towns that is supposed to be where Camelot once stood, which was another few hours from Bristol. He would be able to finish the whole trip in a day or two, depending on how long he planned to dwell in both cities.

Arthur wanted to take his time with this, but he had no idea if the whole trek was a futile task. He got up at dawn, packed a rucksack of a few days of clothes, a few books to read on the train rides, and the needed essentials. He would be gone a day or two, up to a week at most, given the amount of time he had off. He decided he could travel until his budget ran out, if he had the desire to.

...

He dropped Wade off with Morri sometime after 7 and reached the gallery in Bristol by 9. It was not open yet, so he wandered aimlessly window-shopping. He was wired all morning, despite not having any coffee. He wandered aimlessly until stumbling upon a tourist gift shop, filled with the usual rabble to entice the gullible traveler.

He wandered in, taking a large breath of the strawberry incense burning from the back of the store, an old woman doodling on a notepad of paper, glanced up and welcomed him warmly. The further he got into the shop, the more the usual mug and poster fodder faded into histoical books and hand-stitched patches.

"Looking for anything in particular?" She asked, sizing him up with her eyes.

He looked around with interest, eyes glued to a particular patch and rubbing the embroidery with his fingers, "No, just waiting for the gallery to open. Looking around."

The blood red of the crest and shield drew his attention, tracing over the gold accent when the woman leaned forward and offered with interest, "You know what that is? You seem fond of it."

"It seems familiar," Arthur admitted, though he wasn't sure why. It was that pull again, that indescribable tug.

"You have likely seen it in a book somewhere at least once. It's the Pendragon crest, you know, King Arthur and all that?"