Arthur Pendragon doesn't have a custom title currently.
Born: 31 October 1990
Website: No Information
Sword fighting, hunting, jousts, sports
age in ##: 27
story: BBC Merlin
gif (150x150): http://orig02.deviantart.net/fea8/f/2013/037/0/8/arthur_s_swirling_sword_by_deedeeproductions-d5jj0ca.gif
Plot Page: No Information
Wanteds: No Information
Joined: 17-August 16
Last Seen: Feb 7 2018, 02:06 PM
Local Time: Feb 21 2018, 02:25 AM
44 posts (0.1 per day)
( 0.12% of total forum posts )
Dec 17 2017, 08:31 PM
Arthur could honestly say that he’d never experienced exhaustion quite as absolute as what he was experiencing now. Being resurrected had been easy – just a blink of an eye and he arose (at least that was how it felt). But adjusting to all the advances was quite a different matter. He felt daze and confused, even lost, three-fourths of the time. All the work his brain did learning about his new world left Arthur drained. Taking care of his twins brought on even more tiredness. Guilt for how he treated Merlin in the past (and even here) as well as discovering the unsettling truth about the bastet drain him of the rest of his energy.
Arthur loved his life. He couldn’t ask for more. He had friends. He had family. He had a job and so did Gwen. He felt like a very rich man – far richer then when he was King. This life he would not trade for his old. Never. No matter what was offered. He wouldn’t accept it. He realized he couldn’t.
Even if this life meant confusion and dirty diapers (oh the many diapers had he changed) and sleepless nights. It was all worth it. Arthur had only realized that recently while bathing Eva. That little girl smiled up at Arthur as he’d blown a bubble between his fingers and had reached for it with eagerness. It was the most precious thing he’d ever seen. What would my father think of this life I have?
he couldn’t help wonder while leaving the store with a package of diapers under his arm. He’d probably be appalled or shocked that I’d be doing such common work.
He took a detour through the park. It was crisp, cool day and he wanted to enjoy a five minute walk. Gwen wasn’t expecting him home for a good half hour or so, anyway. The shopping trip had been quicker than he expected.
Spotting the swings, Arthur sat the diapers on the park bench and plopped into one of the playthings. He pushed off and swung forward and back. He pumped his legs quicker and harder until it felt like he was flying. The sight of someone made him stop. “Father?” he gasped. His mouth gaped open. The sudden halt caused gravity to do its magic and he flew from the seat, through the air, and landed (belly first) on the ground. Uther Pendragon
Nov 24 2017, 02:54 PM
They weren’t technically married in this world. Technically Guinevere was his widow because technically he had died. That had not stopped them from moving together and continuing their relationship. However, it did not sit well with him. It felt too modern.
He saved up money from work and bought a silver engagement ring that looked like a crown
as well as supplies for a perfect engagement (velvet throw, sparkling grape juice, fine dishes, and ingredients to make a delectable turtle cheesecake, stuffed figs, orange chicken, a hearty bread, carrots, and squash). He spent one afternoon cooking it all and packing it into a basket.
He knew the right place for the proposal. He'd found a little cabin. Over the last few days he had been decorating it and hoping no one used it for hunting. Thankfully, it seemed no one was. He delivered the food and set everything up. Then, he headed back to their home and got cleaned up. Nerves sent his stomach fluttering as he thought about how the cheese cake looked a bit flat.
"Oh, Gwen, love, can I take you somewhere?" he called through the bathroom door crack. "I've found something lovely..."Guinevere Pendragon
Oct 20 2017, 07:53 PM
He missed Camelot. He missed the pomp and circumstance of the clothes and travel accommodations (there was nothing quite like feeling the wind ruffling the fringes and the light jostle of a horse under rump). He missed the adventures and the battles – not that he liked war (that he detested). Protecting the innocent and defending the defenseless he missed that. He even missed the balls, even if they seemed frivolous.
Every night the calls of adventure pulled him away from sleep. He wandered Storybrooke. Feet traveled where they willed; that will was aimless. Not wise, Arthur knew. Soon enough a little one would wake at all hours, bawling at the top of the lungs. Then no sleep could be had for a year, at least. But walking seemed the only way to drown out the cries for that old life he could never have again.
Past brought out what ifs of the past. They were nasty perhaps that held no answers. Reactions were unpredictable. They could happen only once and then they were gone. There were no ways to go back. Redoing moments was the only undeniable impossible. All that got left was the nagging what ifs.
What if he had known of Merlin’s magic while Prince? Many of the answers sickened him. When he dwelled upon those worst-case scenarios, he chose to think of exile. Out of anger and fear, he would have sent Merlin away. The former Camelot King hoped that exile would be the punishment designed to protect the raven-haired manservant. Perhaps hiding the truth could or would have happened.
The possibilities - the good, the bad, and the ugly – left him with a sour taste. It left him with the inability to Merlin. Ever since they reunited, the former King of Camelot had avoided his former manservant. The dark possibilities left him unable to look Merlin in the eye. Perhaps Arthur was ashamed of himself.
During one of those aimless wanderings, a castle appeared before him. A strange castle in a strange land seemed like the perfect adventure. Perhaps he would find himself (so to speak) in there. Perhaps a little adventure would do him good. So, Arthur had packed up a bit of a snack and dressed in a warm gray jumper, brick red t-shirt, blue jeans, and boots. He didn’t plan on being gone long, but adventures had no clear endpoint. The only reason for the snack was in case he got hungry, which happened more times than not.
He stared up at the castle before heading up the path through the courtyard. A rustle of brush made him stop. It made him sigh. Closing his eyes, he hung his head. “Merlin, what are you doing?” he called. “Come on out. I know it’s you. No one else would follow me in the middle of the night.” Merlin Emrys
Apr 10 2017, 06:31 PM
Arthur found comfort from the park. The trees, lakes, and birds reminded him of Camelot. Spending time here brought him serenity. In fact, the resurrected man found himself spending more time here than at his home. If he wasn't exploring or working, he was at the park. On occasion he even fell asleep at the park.
That happened on March 31st. That wasn't supposed to happen, but it did. Work was exhausting. After eating a hotdog, Arthur settled himself on a bench and dozed off for six or so hours.
When he woke, the former King of Camelot knew something was different even before opening his eyes. Arthur was astutely aware he was close to the ground. Not good, although he could've easily rolled off the seat in his sleep. He then yawned, or tried to. He brayed instead. "What goblin cursed me?" He grumbled, or tried to. It came out as brays.
Pushing himself to his four, hoofed, feet, he trotted to the lake's edge and gawked at his reflection. "Not again," brayed Arthur. This was the second time he'd been turned into a donkey. What luck! He needed to hide before anyone saw him like this. Of course, that did not happen. "It's not what it looks like." All that came out were donkey sounds.
Apr 9 2017, 08:24 PM
Arthur had a rare day off. He found that although he enjoyed the time off, he did not know what to do with himself. Perhaps exploring the town would be a wise way to use the spare moments. The former king wasn’t entirely used to free time. As a Prince and as King he’d been on patrol, fighting a battle, trained for battles, or held court. There was always something happening in his life. The only spare moments were spent asleep.
Leisure time was not something he was used to. He needed to take up a hobby of some sort. For now he would spend his time getting to know the town. Later he could pick up some sort of extra activity. That seemed wise.
So on this spring day he walked through the town. He paid no attention where he was headed, although the former king hoped he didn’t get himself lost in the process, and found himself at the docks. What a lovely place to end up. The air was crisp and cool. Gulls cawed overhead and the sound of waves lulled him into contentedness.
Leaning on the railing, he stared out at the water. A slight smile played with his lips as the wind played with his blond hair. He found himself absorbed in the tranquil scenery. He was unaware that a familiar face was approaching. Lady Morgana