Title: Makers of History
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: For centuries he pretended he was someone else.
Word Count: 300
Prompt: #307: Picture prompt
Author's Notes: -_-
For centuries, he has pretended he is someone else, used different names, rebuilt his life time and time again.
History keeps him alive.
He is a figure of myths and legends, a famed name. Merlin, Emrys, Myrddin. Sorcerer, advisor, friend. There are books, poems, and tales. Hands that rewrite his life. Sometimes, Merlin likes his fictional self better. He's had a happy ending or two. And, he still enjoys that one movie.
Did he ever exist? some wonder.
If asked, Merlin would say he was just a boy, with a long road ahead of him, paved with loss. He was a boy who met another boy, infuriating, yet so noble, and he cherished that boy and loved him more than anything. Loved him until his last breath, in every dream and memory.
The museum is almost empty, save for a group of tourists strolling by, and a bored guard. Merlin stands as close as he can, there, behind a glass, lays Excalibur, its power flowing. This is where he was meant to be, this morning, this exhibit, in a city he doesn't know, but holds so much promise.
Someone clears their throat, stands next to him, their arms brushing accidentally. Merlin's heart stutters in his chest, remembers a tale about destiny.
"Would you like to know a story ?" He asks, voice a bit playful, as if he's waiting for Merlin to rise to a challenge, to say yes.
Merlin smiles, steals a look, there's untamed blond hair, and a bright smile showing adorable crooked teeth, and a deep gaze that is the most perfect shade of blue.
"Sure. I like some stories."
"Legend says Excalibur was forged from a dragon's breath," he whispers, smirks. "It's magical."
"It's beautiful," Merlin says, his voice oddly low. His fingers itch. The world starts making sense again.
He nods. His reflection on the glass is pensive, and Merlin has to keep looking, he has thousands of years to make up for. "It is. I really do believe it's magic," he says, tilts his head, smiles at him.
Here, another part of life has just started, past and present reunite: man meets man, stops missing him. Loves him again.