Part 9

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"Why not Lancelot?" Arthur asked Ellie one day during a lesson plan.

The spare room, still teeming with folders full of notes had been made into a classroom-like setting where Arthur could learn about the world.

"Lancelot was already resurrected once...and afterward he died, again. I'm sure Merlin's told you about it?"

"Yes," Arthur said, bowing his head sadly.

"Merlin probably wouldn't want to put Lancelot through that again," she concluded.

"It's a shame," Ellie lamented, "I wish...well I know it's selfish but I wish I could have met all of your knights. I've gleaned from Merlin's stories that they were all equally incredible, extremely brave, and completely loyal."

"That they were," Arthur confirmed, "I'm sure you would have got on great with them. In fact, you'd probably have to fight them all off with a stick. They'd be asking for your hand on a daily basis."

Ellie laughed. "Sometimes I think it would have been great to live during your time, in Camelot." She grew more serious then, "But then I wouldn't want to face prosecution, either."

Arthur's face fell. "If things had been different," he spoke with regret, "If my father hadn't been such a fanatic, I don't think I would have ever believed that magic was terrible. Things could have been better for so many people. Merlin...Merlin wouldn't have had to hide his magic..."

"Look, you can't keep beating yourself up about that," Ellie stated. "It's clear that you feel remorse about it, and also that you didn't have all the information about magic back then. You only ever heard one side of the argument on magic and it was an extremists' view. I know you feel terrible about your association, but the sins of the father are not the sins of the son."

* * *

When Ellie switched on a desk lamp, Arthur looked entranced.

"Is that magic?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she smirked, "it's electricity."

Arthur looked stupefied.

"Don't worry, it's in one of our lessons," she explained.

So Ellie had gone on teaching Arthur about the world; about history, geography, technology, culture, and societal norms.

One morning Arthur woke early and emerged from Merlin's bed. He trotted into the living room where Merlin was snoozing on the couch. He crouched next to him.

"Merlin," he whispered.

"Hmmphh?" Merlin grumbled groggily.

"I feel terrible taking your bed and making you sleep out here on this...strange sitting bed," he whispered.

Merlin moved into a sitting position.

"What do you suggest, then?" he asked with a hint of seduction.

Merlin hadn't wanted to be too forward with Arthur. Sure, they had had that amazing kiss but this was all still new to them. So he'd insisted that Arthur take his bed and he'd take the couch.

"Well," Arthur cleared his throat, "it seems that your bed is large enough for two."

"How bold of you, sire," Merlin grinned.

"Shut up," Arthur grinned back, "I just feel bad about taking your bed."

Merlin looked at the time. "I've gotta go to the sorcerer's market and try and catch old Clarisse. She's the only one who sells decent slugworms that we need for the resurrection spell. Have fun at your studies today," he smiled and planted a sweet kiss on Arthur's lips.

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