Achieving Avalon (part 1)

[hopenight]

Title: Achieving Avalon
Author: HopeNight
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, past Arthur/Merlin, past Ianto/Lisa, past Ianto/others, Gwen/Rhys
Ianto Jones/Merlin Emrys, Captain Jack Harkness/Arthur Pendragon, Toshiko Sato, Doctor Owen Harper, Gwen Cooper, Rhys Williams, Morgana la Fey/Lady Morgana Farthing, Great Dragon/Cameron Ashmore, Nimueh/Naomi Smith
Warnings: OOC-ness running rampant, rude language, REALLY AU after Cyberwoman, Jack Harkness in general
Rating: PG-13 possibly light R
Current Word Count: 20,001
Beta(s): scarlet_reader
Summary: Ianto Jones is a perfectly ordinary man with no past and a not so ordinary job. Merlin Emrys on the other hand? He has a trail of mysticism, magic, death, love, and reincarnation following him like a lost puppy. Somehow it’s up to him to put a little magic back into the Torchwood teams lives especially Jack’s. Why? Well because it’s Jack he falls in love with every lifetime and it’s up to the Captain to get his own memories back.
Notes: This was just a weird little chestnut in my head. So yeah I wrote and I enjoyed it. Thanks to my wonderful beta, scarlet_reader.



‘

He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.” –Douglas Adams ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’

…blood…

…death…

…power…

...magic...

…destruction….

….Mordred….

“ARTHUR! WATCH OUT!” he screams wildly fear evident in his voice. A shield of energy manifests in front of him and a couple of children that are innocent in this mess. Blood, everywhere, there’s blood. Corpses of what he thinks are humans seem to line the streets. What few lives that are left must be protected at all costs.

There must be some survivors left in this horrible mess. He pulled the neckerchief over his nose. He can smell the rusty stench of blood. The air is thick with smoke and the stench of the burning corpses of the deceased. Merlin moves on trying to find his king.

Then he spots them. His heart freezes in his chest as he runs the fastest that ever has in his life.

He watches helpless as the golden haired king turned around. Surrounded by blood and battle Arthur still remains beautiful. Then it happens. Arthur is struck by the spell and flew through the air. Bloody cuts appear all over his body; his blue eyes are wide with surprise. His golden hair is matted with blood from the curse. Merlin drops the shield as the children run for safety. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur the sorcerer will always need his king.

Merlin arrives at Arthur’s side in time for his last breath to be heard.

“Mer…lin…”

The king, his friend…his lover is dead in his arms. This…no. This cannot be happening to him, not now, not ever. He still needs the king more than ever. The dark haired man chokes back a sob as he presses a kiss against the King’s forehead. He gently lays Arthur back down on the ground. Tears escape as he slowly stands. His hands go tighter around his staff. Rage, hate, anger, injustice begins to coarse through his body.

Merlin turns to face the grown Mordred. The same man that he had help rescue when he was younger, maybe he should have listened to the damned dragon. The dark haired Druid looks up to gloat. The look on the older sorcerer’s face leaves a look of terror on the younger. Mordred seems to realize what he has invoked.

Energy, power, life, death, decision flows through his finger tips, his body as Merlin aims at Mordred. The hurt of losing his king, his friend, his lover…Arthur…adds fuel to the final blow of Mordred. Tears work their way down his cheeks. He stands there amidst the death and destruction. He slides down and begins to cry.

It was always Arthur, always for Arthur.

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” –Eleanor Roosevelt

Merlin shoots a mock glare at the prince as he teases him with a berry.

“Arthur what are you doing?”

“Eating a mid afternoon snack, Merlin,” sings the prince as he bites down on the fruit. The red juice escapes from it, coloring his lips. The manservant swallows at the sight of Arthur’s full lips covered in red. The sorcerer shifts slightly as if to alleviate some discomfort in his nether regions.

“Something wrong Merlin?”

“N-,” Merlin quickly clears his throat after his voice cracked, “No. No! Nothing at all! I’m fine! Better than fine! Actually I’m just amazing! Really really gre…”

A finger over his lips stops Merlin’s babbling, a trait picked up by hanging around Gwen too much. Arthur smiles coyly before closing the gap between them.

“Merlin?”

“Yes, sire?”

“Stop being such an idiot when I’m seducing you.”

With that statement Arthur presses his juice covered lips against Merlin’s, then the sorcerer’s world suddenly goes slight fuzzy. This is due to the several large, bright, and colorful explosions going off in his head.

Arthur pulls away and smirks. Then he leans in and swipes away the juice from the berry on Merlin’s lips with his tongue.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

A pair of bright blue eyes opened as a large, long fingered hand grabbed the alarm clock and promptly threw it across the room. Ianto Jones cursed softly under his breath into his pillow. He glared at the pile of broken alarm clock on the floor before he rolled over in his bed.

His eyes turned gold and with a wave of his hand, the clock suddenly pieced itself together.

He shut his eyes, trying to get the intermingling images of his first kiss with Arthur and the sight of Arthur’s older dead body separate. He wasn’t losing that great memory of the prince’s juice stained lips kissing his tenderly.

Ianto shut his eyes and rolled out of bed. He needed a cold shower.

RING. RING. RING.

He groaned and checked his mobile placed on his dresser for the time. It was nine thirty on the dot. It was time for his daily check up call. He hoped it was Jack this time. If it was Owen again, Ianto would probably just kill him via telephone. He grabbed the phone off the base and turned it on.

“Jones residence, Ianto speaking.”

“Hey Ianto,” said Jack casually into the telephone.

“Sir,” answered the Welshman back. His voice was carefully measured and appropriately cold.

Silence rang between them clear as day. Accusations still filled the air between them at least on Jack’s end of the phone. Ianto made a tactical decision on his end. It was something that was left over from the days when he still went by his birth name. A hobby called ‘Confusing the Hell Out of a Person’. Usually that person almost always ended up being Arthur. It carried on being fun in his reincarnated forms. It was a little bit childish and petty but the sorcerer was certain he deserved it at this point.

“Well as you can hear sir. I’m alive. Now I really must be going,” and with that Ianto hung up the phone. He felt some small sense of glee at that. It proved to him that he could walk away from the prince, even in reincarnation.

To be honest while he was upset over Lisa’s death; it wasn’t the first time one of Arthur’s incarnations held a weapon to his head. It was not the first time that he let his emotions get the best of him. Nor it would be the last time that he had to watch someone he loved die horribly and he could do nothing to help them. So he kept in his part as the grieving boyfriend, hid under his lies and was thankful he learned to cry on demand. He was also glad that he had gotten half way decent at acting. As cold as that sounded it was the only way he could survive Torchwood.

He missed Lisa. Losing her was losing his best friend. More importantly it was losing some who remembered all those centuries ago of Camelot. He lost someone that he could truly be himself with.

He missed her like a phantom limb because for awhile he had someone who understood.

She understood the longing, the waiting, and the general feeling of worthlessness. She understood the need to surround yourself with people trying to find some connection while biding your time. She understood how much it hurt to know that the person you truly love would not recognize you right away.

It was rare to find understanding like that. Especially in the situation Ianto was stuck in. Hell the only understanding for it was in a few select souls.

Right now, the Torchwood tea-boy needed a plan. First a shower, then maybe he could go over to the children’s ward at the hospital. The children always seemed to enjoy the stories of the past that he weaved. Ianto nodded to himself satisfied with the plan. He wandered into the bathroom to take a quick shower.

“I wish I could fly and magically appear and disappear. I wish I could fly. I fly far away from here.” –Natalie Superboy and the Invisible Girl Next to Normal

“Are you sure that it was here?” questioned Gwen Cooper as she looked at the small private hospital.

“This is where the rift spike occurred,” repeated Tosh Sato for what felt like the thousandth time, “The tech should be here somewhere. It is highly likely that it’s inside the hospital.”

“Fan-bloody-tastic then! Now how on Earth are we going to get in? Most of our cases end up at the A&E. None of these private places,” stated Doctor Owen Harper. He glared poisonously at the old, ivy covered building.

Captain Jack Harkness stared at the hospital. He was there in body but not all there in his mind. Why? The same person who had been on his mind everyday for the past two weeks: Ianto Jones. Jack was both amazed and slightly frightened by the young Welshman. No one in all his years of life could con him so well; pull off such an unbelievable performance. It was an amazing thing. To do it so well to him was frightening.

That fact about how much it hurt him scared him a hell of a lot worse.

“Jack?” called Gwen as the team entered the building. The captain shook his head to free himself of those confusing thoughts of the archivist. He followed the remaining members of his team into the building.

“Every story has a beginning, middle, and end. Every really good story is told so well that they cannot be defined.” -Unknown

Forty five minutes later, the team had the device. Owen was glaring at the Captain though.

“We drove in morning rush hour for a fuckin’ alien bubble blower?!”

“Now Owen there are children here,” chided Jack absently, “it’s freaking or effing make your choice doctor.”

Tosh tried to hide her amusement by turning away. Gwen attempted to disguise her laughs with coughs. Jack paused and shrugged unapologetically.

“Would you rather it be an alien overlord trying to take over the planet Earth?”

Owen glared at him before speaking slowly and clearly, “Alien. Bubble. Blower.”

Jack opened his mouth to respond when a huge rush of children’s laughter caught his attention. A nurse who was walking past smiled when she heard the laughter exploding from one of the rooms.

“Ah bless the children seem to be having a good time,” she said with relief.

“What’s going on?” asked Gwen with polite curiosity.

“Oh about once a week a lad comes in here. Nice boy with sad eyes, he tells the children stories. They seem to enjoy it. He’s very creative don’t you know? Twists the Arthurian legend all around and makes it about Merlin of all people. Not that the wee ones don’t mind, they lap it right up.”

The Torchwood heard another burst of laughter come from the room. Curiosity grasped them in its claws and dragged them over to the doorway. Gasps nearly came out of the women’s mouths when they saw who it was telling the story.

It was Ianto. He was grinning wickedly. The story fell from his lips with ease. His eyes were brighter than the team had ever seen them. They glowed like two sapphires in the night. It also was the most relaxed they ever seen him.

And it was something else they didn’t know about him; realized Jack with a pang of regret.

“So Merlin looked Arthur dead in the eye and said ‘Berries.’”

Jack also noticed that Ianto seemed to be there and not there. He was acting out the story but he seemed to be drowning in memories. It was a state Jack knew too well.

“Berries,” said Arthur back in a tone that questioned Merlin’s mental state.

“All the world’s problems can be solved with a batch of bad berries given to the right people,” said Merlin with a nod.

“Do you even think most of the time?”

“Well think about it! If the King of Mercia had a case of the runs from a batch of bad berries, he wouldn’t be in the mood for fighting wouldn’t he? Who would want to fight like that? No one! Berries, Arthur, I’m telling you all the world’s problems can be solved with berries.”

Arthur stared at his manservant for several moments as if he doubting his sanity.

“Are you drunk, Merlin? I would understand. Gaius told me that you get drunk by looking at a wine skin.”

Now it was Merlin’s turn to look at Arthur with incredulity. His lips twisted up into a knowing grin. His blue eyes were bright as the summer sky.

“Do you ask Gaius questions about me often?”

“No! It’s because he’s worried that my idiot manservant would get drunk and embarrass the kingdom!”

Arthur had the slightest flush at his cheek. His speech was sped up as he babbled on.

“Suuure, sire. Whatever you say,” drew out Merlin with the wickedest grin lighting his face.

“You’re doing it again, Merlin.”

“Doing what, sire?”

“Making sire sound like it’s synonymous with horse shit.”

“Oh was I? I didn’t notice.”

They walked back to the castle falling into an easy bicker. The lazy summer between two friends was the only thing happening right now. It was not destiny intervening hand. Simply two people that basked in the others company…

Ianto loved coming here. He could lose himself in his memories of long ago. Back when Arthur was only a prince. Back when he was only a manservant. Back when they danced on the edge of falling passionately in love or just staying friends. Before destiny had her claws deep within them…

Telling the stories always took him back to those happy times. The world made sense well except for Uther killing off innocent sorcerers’. Still when he was with Arthur everything made sense. Telling the stories of his past, of his prince, of his friend, of his confidant to a new generation who were willing to listen made life a little bit easier for him. It made immortality easier for him to bear. It made his magic sing in his blood.

Children always looked for magic where they can find it. The children in the hospital knew that Mr. Ianto was magic. It was something they never told anyone. Not even to their parents. In exchange, they get some of the coolest stories in the world.

“Well anyways Arthur told Merlin that his first royal decree as King was about his sanity or lack of therefore.”

The children burst out into bright sunny laughter and applauded wildly for the story. Ianto bowed gracefully. He grinned at the children though his grin faded when he was the Torchwood team.

“Alright then kids, I need to go. I’ll see you all next time then yeah?”

The children groaned but nodded. Ianto smiled and made his way to the door. Children called out, “Bye Mr. Ianto!” as he left the room. He fixed a scarf around his neck. It reminded him of the days of his kerchiefs. Arthur thought they were silly. Ianto will always believe that they will always be in style. He paused when he saw the team. He simply met each of their eyes, nodded, and made his way down the hallway.

He thought that he was home free. He really did until he heard Gwen’s voice call out after him.

“Ianto!”

The man stopped in his tracks. Options flickered through his mind. He could erase their memories, make himself invisible, turn into an animal then hide, or he could run to his car and make a break for it.

But if Owen was still on that action movie kick of his then the doctor would not hesitate for a car chase. He would probably relish the opportunity for it. The sorcerer sighed and turned around. He raised an eyebrow and stared at them. A trick passed onto him from Gaius. It was sort of like the Force or Jedi Mind Field whatever the hell it was called.

“Seeing as it is not time for my mandatory I’m Still Alive call. I really don’t see the reason to talk to any of you at this moment,” informed Ianto coolly. Gwen shuddered for a moment. She could have sworn she saw a flash of gold in Ianto’s eyes.

The tea-boy stood there with his feet firmly on the ground.

“So this where you disappeared to every Wednesday?” asked Jack.

“It’s no secret. If you would’ve asked me I would have told you. It gives me a chance to use that Medieval Literature degree,” replied Ianto evenly.

“Ianto,” sighed Jack, “we just want to help you get through this.”

Gwen nodded in agreement with Jack. Sometimes Ianto admired her big heart. Right now the pity he saw in her eyes annoyed the hell out of him. He could feel his previous good mood vanish. He could feel the thick and oppressive wall between him and the team again.

It reminded him in the beginning back when Arthur was still a prat and he was too stubborn to be taken in by royal charms.

“Ianto, love, we just want to help you,” said Gwen feelingly. Ianto really wanted to slap her.

“No,” said Ianto shaking his head, “No. Please stop calling. Please stop trying to understand, Gwen. You don’t...”

“Ianto you know we can’t,” stated Jack. Ianto glared into the Captain’s blue eyes.

“It’s as easy as not dialing the phone, sir. I was having a good day today. Just leave me alone,” stated Ianto simply, “Please just let me grieve.”

“It sure didn’t look like grieving in there,” said the captain. The archivist knew what Jack was trying to do. Arthur had done it many times to him. He would pick out a contradiction. He would exploit it and he would get mad. It was awhile that he allowed himself the luxury.

“Honestly Jack are you playing this game with me? I can play it better than you, sir. You know I can. It’s what made all of you notice me outside the suits and the coffee. If we’re going to talk about this then at least say her name, Lisa.”

Ianto stared straight ahead. He circled Jack like a lion stalking its prey.

“I loved her. I loved her because she understood. We both knew that this love wasn’t going to last into anything. Still we had sex, we had fun, and we tried to love each other without getting our hearts broken. We loved each other because we understood,” said Ianto coldly, “Isn’t that what you wanted to know? Why I loved her so much? It’s rare to find that kind of understanding, Jack.”

“Understanding of what?” asked the Captain. Ianto sighed feeling all the fight previous suddenly leave him. He stared at Jack with old, ancient eyes. For a moment the Captain saw a flash of the Doctor’s eyes, and then of his own.

“Understanding of waiting for someone that might never appear,” whispered Ianto with a sad smile on his face.

“And who exactly are you waiting for, Ianto?” asked Jack instantly suspicious. Ianto tried not to wince at the accusation that it was something bad. He licked his lips and looked Jack directly in the eye. He kept the gaze held just to show the Captain that he did not terrify him.

“I’ll know him when I met him,” said the Torchwood archivist vaguely.

With that he turned on his heel and went to his car. He had a rather unfortunate lunch date to uphold.