Title: Missing the Family Rooster
Summary:Arthur can't find the boy making the chicken noises anymore.
Prompt:All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.
-- Walt Disney
Author's Notes:You can find the previous two drabbles about these kids, here and here
It was stupid really. Arthur sat there waiting every day for the chicken boy to come back down his street. It shouldn't have been this difficult to offer replacement sunglasses. Arthur was responsible for the damage and he always was taught to take care of his responsibilities. Now he had sat there for over two whole weeks with a new pair of expensive glasses at the ready, and ...no crazy Chicken boy!
Arthur glared at the empty street. Eventually Leon came back to take him to school, but instead of dutifully getting in the car and quietly being driven to his destination as he was taught, he demanded to be taken to the general admittance school on the other side of his fenced off street. That had to be where the strange chicken boy went. It wouldn't take long to find him among the other plebeians.
And it was 'plebeians'. His father referred to that kind often. Those that didn't have enough strength of character to make something of themselves and instead chose to live poorly.
The car pulled up and Leon kept looking back at Arthur with a soft smile. The driver wanted to say something else about this trip, but thankfully didn't. It made Arthur uncomfortable that he was even there and maybe knew him so well.
Arthur saw many kids, none in uniform like he was, none organized or thought weary like the children from his school. Some even jumped on each other like wild monkeys. Yes. This was definitely the place to find a boy that squawked like poultry. "You. Where can I find the chicken boy?" Arthur pointed at a quieter unassuming girl. She had dark hair with curls everywhere.
She should have been the boy's age and should have known who Arthur was referring to. The school was big but not so much so to not have noticed someone who thought they had feathers.
"He wear's these normally." Arthur pulled the expensive sunglasses from the case.
"Oh! You mean Merlin!" The girl cried out. "But why do you call him Chicken boy? And who are you? Not that I assumed you're some creepery pedo bate. It would make sense to have a cute blonde boy in the back seat to lure other unsuspecting children, I suppose. My father warned me about things that were too good to be true..."
"Charming, but really I have some business with him." Arthur used his father's authority tone of voice. He wasn't a 'pedo', whatever that meant.
"Whatever business you have, couldn't have been that important since he moved away last week."
"He..." Arthur rarely threw tantrums. His father said it was unbecoming of a gentleman. So Arthur rolled up the window he had pulled down to talk to that infernal girl and threw the glasses as hard as he could at the back of the seat in front of him. Didn't make him feel better, about all this time wasted wondering about stupid chicken boy, but it was something to do at the very least.
10 years later.
Arthur curled up in his favorite spot by the window to read a good book. He had done so many assignments for his University course work that he forgot what it was like to read for the fun of reading.
Arthur's head shot up at the noise, a wiry man about his age jumped up and down under the tree right in front of his house. Dark unkempt curls that were too familiar zigzagged all over the probably 18 year old's head in no pattern whatsoever.
"Good lord, he's back." Arthur whispered disbelievingly to himself before taking off like a rocket.
"What took you so long to get here?" Arthur demanded. He didn't like waiting. Pendragon's should wait for no one, but for this Chicken boy Arthur waited around for ten years.
"The flight was a little delayed." Merlin looked up into the tree seeing whatever it was he saw when he was younger.
"This was why I told you to use the Pendragon jet. These things wouldn't have happened." Why did Merlin always make things so difficult and strange? First he had to go disappear on Arthur and make a Pendragon search him out all the way to freaking Australia. Then he had to refuse the sunglasses the five times Arthur tried to have them delivered. And even though they became friends via email, texts and skype, Merlin refused to let Arthur visit him until Merlin himself could afford a trip back to London.
Merlin smiled his dopey smile and hugged Arthur before calling him a prat.
Arthur wasn't used to such displays of affection. Sure girls and such, and footy mates and things, but Merlin was neither of those. Merlin was the strange boy that he talked too via technology. A childhood oddity that infected him with his strangeness. He made a very young Arthur want to cluck at the tree outside if only to see what would happen.
The sunglasses he wore now were the same ones he wore then. They had a bit of tape on them that someone had used a pen on to match the frames.
Merlin looked up to the tree and clucked a little before hugging Arthur again.
"Is it really a dragon you're clucking too?"
"Yes. A very annoying one that won't shut up about destinies and coins. So I keep calling it an unruly chicken and only respond with clucking."