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loopstagirl · 7 months

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Legacy and Destiny

For @janetm74, who requested this. It's kind of an added scene to my Thunderbirds/Merlin crossover found here.

-x-

Resting his elbows on the railing, Scott stared out to sea.

Events of the last few days were… baffling, to say the least. The island invasion by itself was enough; the fear of realising potential hostiles had snuck aboard Thunderbird Two.

But everything else?

How was he supposed to say two people from legend that weren’t supposed to exist had turned up on their secret island? Or Virgil seemed to possess gifts that were impossible? Or even how-

No.

He wasn’t going there.

Thinking about that damn sword made him shiver. He was scared of it. He’d handled enough weapons in his time, that wasn’t it. It was because he wanted it. His hand clenched on the railing. Even now, it called to him…

“Am I disturbing you?”

Scott looked around. Arthur was hovering in the doorway, albeit casting the sliding doors a suspicious look, not quite figuring them out. Scott shook his head, and the legendary ex-king, once-dead monarch of a mythical kingdom, stepped out to join him.

For a moment, both men stood in silence. Arthur stood with his hands clasped behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart. Scott smiled. It had taken him a while to stand at ease after he’d left the USAF, instinct making him slip into parade rest. Constant teasing from his family had cured him of that.

But then Arthur relaxed. It didn’t take long for him to mirror Scott’s position, elbows resting on the railing, also looking out to sea. Scott’s gaze returned to the rhythmic movement of the ocean.

“I remember when my father explained to me what being a prince meant.” Arthur’s voice was soft and Scott glanced over. The man continued to look out to sea.

“That it wasn’t just a title and status and didn’t mean I could do whatever I wanted.”

There was an embarrassed lilt in his tone. Scott had picked up enough from the jibes between Arthur and Merlin to know that even by the time Arthur had grown up, he still expected to get his own way.

“But that it was a responsibility. It wasn’t just my future; it was my kingdom’s future.”

“That’s not how our world works anymore,” Scott said. He felt he knew where this conversation was going and wasn’t sure he was ready. This was his home: he was the one in charge here. Yet he’d never felt so out of his depth.

“Where are the others?” He was deflecting. His brothers usually took the hint, but Arthur only looked at him.

“Merlin’s showing your brother some more tricks.” He was trying to shrug it off, as if it was no big deal, but Scott heard the respect in his tone. Arthur, who had lived in a world where magic was real, was impressed.

How was Scott supposed to feel?

“I understand,” Arthur said.

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Understand what?”

“How’re you’re feeling.”

Scott snorted. “No offence, but no, you don’t.”

“I didn’t know he had magic. My father taught me to believe it was evil. Every time I tried to challenge my beliefs, tried to see it differently, someone proved me wrong. Then I find out my manservant is one of the most powerful sorcerers.”

Arthur trailed off, and Scott glanced at him. There was an old hurt in his voice. Something he’d dealt with, come to terms with, and still got hit with the emotions when he was least expecting it. He didn’t sound so sure of himself any longer.

“I understand what it feels like to have everything you’ve ever known turn on its head.”

“Your best friend kept a secret from you. That’s not the same.”

“He’s not-,” Arthur sighed, then rolled his eyes. Not at Scott though; more at himself. As if there was no point denying it. “That wasn’t what I meant. I died. I finished my fight. Then I’m in this world where nothing makes sense. Where everything I knew and understood has faded into stories. My kn- my friends are with us. We’re all here. But nothing is the same.”

Scott turned, resting his elbows on the railing instead and looking towards the house. It meant he could see Arthur better. He’d never considered it like that: the feeling of being thrust into a brand new world. If he suddenly dropped into Camelot, Scott was certain he wouldn’t last very long.

“Even after all I’ve seen and learnt, this world is strange to me.”

“I don’t think that goes away,” Scott said with a smile. “We’ve seen things too; seen how low humanity can fall, and how high they can raise themselves when disaster strikes. The strangeness of the world makes it worth living in.”

He flushed. John was the one for speeches, not him. But there was something about Arthur… Maybe it was standing in the presence of someone who had once been a king, a ruler in a way so absolute that it made his father as CEO look childish.

Or maybe it was because the magical sword that had caused this entire mess had looked into their souls and seen them as equals.

Arthur made a sound of agreement, then sighed. “Learning what it meant to be my father’s heir was hard,” he continued, returning to their previous topic. “What was expected of me; what people wanted from me; how most would only see me as a prince, not a man.”

Scott jolted. They came from different worlds – but he understood that. As soon as his father had risen in the business world, there’d been a hidden pressure on him. He was Jeff Tracy’s eldest: he had to set the example to his younger brothers, shield them from the press and the questions by taking it on himself. Once the money started coming in as well, he had to protect himself – and them – for those who were only interested in his name.

He'd been prepared to dislike Arthur, wanted to hate the man who’d snuck into his brother’s ‘bird and caused all this chaos. He didn’t expect to understand him, much less like him.

“Why’re you telling me this?” he asked softly.

Arthur straightened. Their heights were identical.

“The sword chose you, too. It saw in you everything it takes to be a great leader.”

Scott couldn’t hold his eye. “I told you, this isn’t how our world works anymore. Being my father’s heir doesn’t me this will all fall to me. It’s not like that these days.”

“Isn’t it?”

Scott frowned.

“You wouldn’t take on the mantle of leader to protect your men – sorry, your brothers – from having to make those calls? Not shoulder the responsibility of dealing with everything that’s related to your name so they could live a life free of that burden? You wouldn’t lay down your life for them?”

Turning, Scott looked back at the ocean. He couldn’t look at Arthur. It was unnerving how right he was. These were the decisions that he’d been making since he was fifteen-years-old.

“I don’t inherit a kingdom,” he said. His tone sounded desperate. That damn sword had got in his head. It wasn't his destiny to become a great ruler. He was supposed to save the world; someone else was supposed to run it. Someone like his dad.

“You inherit a legacy,” Arthur said. His tone was soft. He took a step closer and, to Scott’s surprise, put a hand on his shoulder. Arthur didn’t strike him as the type of man to initiate contact.

Scott looked at him. How could a man who was out of his own time be taking this calmer than he was?

“Don’t make my mistakes,” Arthur said. “Don’t do it on your own.”

“He’ll never be on his own.”

Both men turned. Virgil was standing in the doorway. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, but his eyes were full of excitement. Scott knew his brother was trying to look serious because of the conversation he’d just interrupted, but was bursting to tell him something.

“What?” Scott sighed, although a small smile was tugging at his lips.

“Nothing.” Virgil tried to look serious. Scott rolled his eyes.

“Tell me.”

“Look what I can do!”

Virgil’s expression was one of apt concentration. A shimmering glow filled his eyes, making Scott uneasy. His brothers all had different skills to him, but he didn’t usually worry about them being dangerous (Alan and his racing was another matter). But this? Magic? It was so far beyond him, beyond any logical explanation, that he was uncomfortable.

“It gets easier,” a voice murmured.

Scott glanced over to find Arthur was watching him.

“After a while, you start to see a certain beauty in it. And it’s uses.”

“I’m not using him like a tool! Or a weapon.”

“It’s not your choice to make. He won’t give you that option.” Arthur was no longer watching Scott. His gaze had focused beyond Virgil, and Scott saw Merlin standing in the shadows.

When nothing seemed to happen, Merlin stepped forward and whispered something in Virgil’s ear. The artist nodded, then exhaled, regulating his breathing. Suddenly, one of the small plant pots that lined the balcony rose into the air. It hovered for a moment, then shot skywards.

Virgil gasped. Before Scott could react, a wave of power rolled over him as Merlin’s own eyes changed colour and the flowerpot settled softly back in its spot.

“Still working on it,” Virgil said sheepishly. Scott just shook his head. Half wonder; half bemusement. If someone had told him 24hours ago, he’d be watching Virgil do magic – real, powerful magic – he’d have said they’d had one too many.

“Impressive,” he said, truthfully.

Virgil wiped his forehead, his excitement fading now as he’d done what he wanted to do.

“I meant it,” he said, as if he hadn’t just levitated a flowerpot using magic. “He’ll never be doing this on his own.”

“See what I mean about choice?” Arthur muttered, but Scott could hear the smile in his voice. The king turned to face him.

“Embrace your legacy, your destiny,” he said, tone serious. Scott had to fight to keep his expression neutral at the formality of the words. “It was who you were born to be. The sword knows that. Only the worthy can pull it free.”

“Huh?”

“Long story.”

If Scott wasn’t mistaken, Merlin was shifting uncomfortably behind Virgil.

Arthur stepped forward, heading back inside. Scott called him back.

“What if I’m not worthy?” If anyone other than Virgil was present, he’d never dare say it. “What if it’s wrong?”

To his surprise, Arthur smiled. "That you think so shows it’s chosen well. No one who deserves power chooses it.”

Merlin suddenly snorted, ruining the moment, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“How did you bring it back down?” Virgil asked Merlin. It seemed an abrupt change of topic, but Scott knew his brother. Or, rather, Virgil knew him. He was giving him space to process his thoughts, taking the attention off him for a few moments.

Merlin glanced at Arthur.

“May I?”

“May you what?”

“Show him.”

“You’re asking permission?” Arthur sounded incredulous and Merlin shrugged.

“Feels like the right thing to do after that speech,” he said, the glint in his eye having nothing to do with magic this time.

“Since when has it mattered to you if I give you permission or not? You never do as I say, never have.”

“I do, too!”

“Name one time you did what you were told.”

“When you threw me out of your rooms when Bayard came to Camelot after you were crowned.”

Arthur snorted. “You weren’t doing as you were told: you wanted a day off.”

“Which you never gave me.”

“You did no work to warrant one.”

“I was too busy saving your life!”

“Of course you were.” Arthur’s tone was dry. “Being the youngest First Knight of Camelot counted for nothing, then?”

“Not against magic, it didn’t.”

The pair moved inside, still bickering. Scott caught Virgil’s eye, and as soon as his brother’s lips twitched, laughed. Virgil came to join him, resting his forearms on the railing and staring at the ocean.

“Okay?” he asked causally. Scott mirrored his position.

“Says the guy who just floated a flowerpot with nothing more than his mind.”

Virgil shrugged. “That’s new and exciting. You’re dealing with something that you’ve always known and never wanted to accept.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re our leader, Scott. Sure, Dad’s our commander, but it’s always been you we’ve followed, ever since we were kids.”

“That’s what being a big brother is all about,” Scott said. “You know that.”

Virgil just smiled at him. “It’s more than that, and you know it.”

Scott didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He had always known in. He’d taken the lead when they were children, blaming it on being the eldest. But then he’d become a captain in the USAF with his own team, slipped into the role of Field Commander when International Rescue was established…

Arthur had a point. Being his father’s heir didn’t mean inheriting a kingdom like it might have done in the past. But it meant something. Something he planned to live up to.

“C’mon.” He pushed away from the railing and headed back inside. “I’m not sure we want those two running loose around the island.”

It wasn’t about trust. It was more that one had powerful magic Scott didn’t understand, and the other was a strong king who had no idea how a microwave works.

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