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jesterladyfic) wrote2012-12-31 04:25 pm
jesterladyfic) wrote2012-12-31 04:25 pm
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Merlin Oneshot: For Time and Eternity
Title: For Time and Eternity
by Jesterlady
Rating: PG
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen
Summary: For Arthur is not just a king, he is the once and future king. When Albion's need is greatest, he will rise again. Until then Merlin will do as he has always done, put all the pieces together, take care of his friends, be magic, and wait for his King.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. The title comes from J.C. Ryle.
A/N: Extreme spoilers for 5x13! This isn't necessarily a fix-it, but I feel like it brings more closure to the episode, letting us know what actually happened with the other relationships on the show, with the legality of magic, the storylines that never got resolved, with Merlin's ultimate fate. My apologies if you find errors because I've beta-d it myself, but was in too much of a hurry to post it to have someone else do it. Please let me know if you see anything obvious. Thank you.
For Time and Eternity
Merlin stood on the shore of the lake for a long time. He thought of many things, about the past and the present and the future. He was struck by the age old question of where to go from here. Life stretched out before him, long, vast, and empty.
Everything had changed. It was as if his life was divided into two parts, before Arthur died and after. He preferred the before part. Even though it had been hard and unbearable at times, he'd had a clear path laid out before him to keep Arthur safe. No matter Kilgarrah's words, Merlin felt like he had failed. All he had left was the knowledge that Arthur would return. He had to grasp hold of that or he might just fling himself into the lake.
But Merlin was not desperate by nature nor was Arthur the only thing in his life. He still had Gaius and Gwen and the knights and Camelot and he had, still, a destiny. For he was no longer simply Merlin as he had been. Ever since he'd left the Crystal Cave he had truly been Emrys. In a way it was like throwing off the mantle of Merlin and becoming his true self as his father had said. Like donning a second skin. Yet this skin was a bit irritating because he was so used to the old one and he knew it would take time to be able to fully bear the idea of being Emrys for all of time. For his duty was now to wait, to wait for his master to return, so they could fulfill their destiny. His was the hard way, walking the slow path while Arthur slept the peace of the mighty.
Merlin wiped at his eyes one more time feeling as if he'd cried every tear in his life over again. He whispered his goodbyes over the cool night air; it had long been dark as he stood there. He let go of Arthur, ceding him into the care of magic, time, and Freya. He spared a brief thought of gratitude for her and then turned to go.
For he had yet another task ahead of him and perhaps he had been avoiding it. Serving Arthur unto his death was a privilege but there was another who had died that day and she lay not far from him. He walked, each step a heavy burden, until he reached Morgana's body.
He was struck by how innocent she looked. Despite the dark clothing and the signs of battle upon her, she was very young and very beautiful. He ached to look at her and think about the violence and hatred that had seethed beneath the surface. He wished that she could have been as she was when he first met her, a valiant and strong woman, streaked through with compassion and passion. He had long admired her and he wanted to weep when he thought of the courage and conviction she'd shown when she saved Mordred, or the loyalty and valor she had exhibited when helping him save Ealdor.
But she had made choices, choices that led to the dark, twisted beauty on the ground before him. Most of those choices were hers, but some were his, like when he was trying to thwart the vision of the crystals and caused her to learn of her heritage, or forcing the dragon to help him heal her when instead her death would have saved her all this pain. Of course the greatest impact of one of his decisions was the time he had poisoned her. In his dreams he could still see the look on her face when she realized what he had done and how she had struggled against him when he held her in his arms. He had not seen her for a year after that and he cringed at the dark thoughts that must have crept into her mind urged on by his betrayal. Upon thinking back on their interactions, maybe his biggest mistake was not revealing who he was to her and helping her develop her magic in a positive way. Perhaps she would not have gone so easily to Morgause. Perhaps she could have been a force for good no matter what the prophecies had to say.
But it had not been so. All his choices for good or ill, and all her evil had led them here to this place. She had wrought much damage, taken the lives of many good men and women, and the life of the finest man Merlin had ever known, her own brother and Merlin's best friend. For that alone she did not deserve a burial or a marked grave, but Merlin could not leave her thus. So he raised his arms and commanded the earth to move and her body was sunk low into the earth and he flinched as the dirt covered her over and he caught one last glimpse of the woman he'd known. Stones flew to the spot and marked it, but he would not carve anything to show who was there.
There was a noise from behind him and when Merlin turned, Percival was standing there, looking as shocked as Merlin had ever seen the man look. Merlin watched the realization of Merlin's true self reach fruition in the other man's mind, but was surprised to see Percival sheathe his sword and greet him as a brother. Merlin accepted it but his mind was too heavy with the news he must share to wonder at it. Instead he listened to Percival tell him of his journey, of their trickery with Morgana's spy, and Gwaine's death.
Another blow to his heart and Merlin could not stop the tears though he'd thought them long wept dry. Percival himself was obviously not beyond being moved though then he asked of Arthur and Merlin had to tell his own story. He was not detailed for some things he could not tell anyone, except perhaps Gwen, but he told how he sent Arthur to his rest and of the fall of Morgana. Percival's face fell as he received the news and Merlin wondered how many more people would have to feel that way, to feel the loss of the greatest King who had ever lived, and yet who had barely lived.
Percival then asked him about his magic and Merlin told him the truth and the knight simply nodded and said that he knew Merlin's friendship was true and then he thanked him for his part in being saved many times as must have been the case. Merlin was surprised and showed it, but Percival merely cracked a smile and said he was not just a pretty face and that it really was the only explanation for all the times they'd all miraculously survived on their many journeys together.
They stood there together in the dark and Percival suggested they head back to Camelot to let everyone know but Merlin first asked him what had been done for Gwaine. Percival hung his head and said that he'd been in such haste to reach Arthur he had not had time to bury his friend or to bring him with him.
At that Merlin's mind was made up. He would not leave another friend in the cold if he could help it. Therefore he announced they should return to Gwaine before his body became defiled. Percival did not argue with him as he might once have done, but he did make the point that Camelot and the Queen should be notified. Merlin knew he was right and he turned, summoning the elements to him. Birds flocked to him and the winds and he whispered words in the Old Religion to them all to bear the news to Camelot and notify the Queen of her King's death.
When he turned back to Percival the knight looked stunned and slightly afraid. Merlin smiled at him, or tried to smile. He was not in the mood for being cheerful even if it would help one of his friends. But Percival straightened up and actually bowed to him before getting his horse and stated they had no light for travel at night. Merlin smirked at that and, getting up behind him on his horse, conjured a light that made the path ahead of them bright as day. They galloped on into the night.
It was long before they reached their destination and Merlin's mind had a lot of time to wander. He avoided thinking about Arthur at all and concentrated on the man they were riding for. Such a man as Merlin had never known, affable and good-hearted, brash and merry, yet who had never had a friend until Merlin himself. A man who had fought with him and Arthur in a tavern brawl without even knowing who they were, who had saved Arthur in the melee though he had been unfairly banished, how he had, unquestioning, helped Merlin in his quest to the Fisher King, how he had become a true knight, and how he had just guarded Merlin as he traveled to the Valley of the Fallen Kings without knowing the reason why.
Perhaps Gwaine had known Merlin had magic and had guessed at his reasons for going into the Valley. Merlin hoped so, because he did not want any of his friends to think he'd lied to them out of malice or had not trusted them. In any case he was glad he'd had a chance to say goodbye to Gwaine and that they had parted well.
When they reached his body, Merlin sent the birds just gathering to flight with a wave of his power. He rushed to Gwaine who was lying in the shelter of a tree, placed there by his friend. He gathered him in his arms and hated the cold stiffness of the once lively man. He spoke his name over and over, feeling the renewed grief pour through him.
Percival stood there silent for awhile and then asked if they should bury him or bring him to Camelot. Merlin knew the honor Gwaine deserved so they rode for the shores of the lake. Percival rode with Gwaine draped before him and Merlin walked. Percival had objected and Merlin was not used to receiving so much deference so he'd insisted he was still the same Merlin and could walk.
When they arrived at the lake Merlin conjured a boat from the fallen wood of the trees causing Percival to again look at him with awe. Percival carried Gwaine and laid him gently down. They placed his cloak and sword around him. The two of them sent Gwaine out onto the water and Merlin could not help but reflect that he had done this too many times before. It was how he sent Arthur, how he sent Lancelot and Freya, how Elyan was sent. Percival and he stood on the shore and watched the boat float off under Merlin's spoken word. He spoke another and flames ignited in the boat, sending off waves of red light on the water.
After that they slept for a little while to rest the horse and themselves. Neither of them had really slept for days. Merlin was so exhausted in body and mind that he slept deeply and did not have the nightmares he'd feared he would. But the waking was a terrible one. The events, the deaths, the end of everything he'd loved, seemed to fling themselves into his face upon the opening of his eyes and he shrunk back from the gray life they presented to him. Percival was solemn as they rode for Camelot and they did not speak much. Merlin was grateful for the other man's silence because he did not have the heart to speak and he knew that his greatest trial was yet ahead of him.
When they reached Camelot he sent Percival to tell Leon and the knights of Gwaine's death and Merlin went straight to the Queen. He found her in the Great Hall standing by the windows next to the Round Table, looking out and clutching Arthur's ring in her hands. She was standing tall, wearing red and gold, her hair neatly combed and braided, yet when she turned to face him her face spoke of a grief as powerful as his own and there were lines on her face and red around her eyes.
She said his name sadly and she smiled gently at him and he could not bear the guilt he felt for not bringing her husband home to her, or even a body for her to say farewell. He turned away from her and started to speak, almost without knowing what he was saying. He told her of Arthur's journey and how he often spoke of her and his love for her. He told her of Arthur's courage in the battle and his graciousness toward himself. He told her of his last breath and how Merlin had sent him to his destiny. He rambled on a long time then, telling her so many things he'd never been able to tell Arthur, all the stories of the last ten years, all the shame and the joy, he told her at last exactly what Arthur had told him the time they'd gone to rescue her from Hengist. Many odd things he'd wanted to say for years and never could.
As he spoke he felt her draw closer to him, her hand on his arm, she gently turned him to face her, and his voice died away into the silence. Her face was so tender, yet tinged with such sorrow he could not bear it. So he told her he was sorry, sorry he wasn't good enough, fast enough, smart enough, brave enough. Her face was quiet and restrained, regal even, and he was pierced by the sudden thought of how Queenly she was and always had been. Yet she had grown as well, the years had brought her much pain and maturity and wisdom. He oddly wished she would ramble on in embarrassment as she had done when they'd first met. Instead she gave him atonement.
She told him she knew who he was and she accepts him as such and thanked him for all he'd done for them. She said she did not hold him guilty of Arthur's death and she knew of no one but herself who would have taken as good care of him. She said that she knew magic was not evil because nothing Merlin was could be inherently evil. She said she would make magic free again in the land and that he was to be her advisor for she needed his help. She could not do this alone, could not rule or take up Arthur's chair in Camelot without him. Merlin broke under the Queen's mercy and they wept long together, holding each other, for no one loved Arthur more than the two of them.
And they spoke long into the night, the two old friends. Merlin answered all of her questions and told her most of what he could recall about the many things he'd done since he'd been to Camelot. He told her of his destiny to help Arthur unite Albion and bring magic back to the land. Gwen was a silent recipient of his stories and he could not help but feel a little bit more alive, more alive than he'd felt since the lake. For they two were joined in grief and friendship and purpose and Merlin could not simply waste away in pain while Guinevere stood tall and strong as Arthur would have wanted.
The dawn came and Merlin took his leave of the Queen having gained her permission to go on a quest. He would not stay for the official announcement of her rule but he promised he would be back. Gwen parted from him with a kiss on the cheek and an earnest thank you in his ear.
Merlin went to Gaius and to his old room and when he pushed open the door he was hit with the odd sensation that he could not stay there anymore. He had grown too big or the rooms too small or maybe he'd just done all he needed to there. But that was a thought for another day because Gaius was there waiting and he did indeed have Merlin's favorite meal ready for him. Merlin tried to smile and say hello but nothing came out. Gaius simply nodded, his face saying everything. He came forward and hugged his young apprentice, not so young anymore. They ate in silence before Merlin was able to speak again. He related the same story again, telling Gaius all that Kilgarrah had told him. Gaius said all the right things as he always did and Merlin basked in the knowledge of being under his tutelage and wisdom, this one last time anyway. He said goodbye because he had work to do and not a lot of time in which to do it. He gathered his few possessions and the Sidhe staff and left Camelot for he had set two tasks for himself.
The first task was to find the cursed blade Mordred used on Arthur and make sure no one could wield it again. He hunted long for it without success. He felt it must be with Mordred's body and searched near the White Mountains. The closer he came the more he could sense the evil magic of the sword. His senses were more powerful now than they had ever been. He could just tell how useful and jarring that was going to be. Eventually he found the pile of rocks and the sword sticking to the ground in front of it. Gradually he reached his hand to it and picked up the sword.
He was shocked by the twisted magic used to make it. Perhaps he should not have been since it was Morgana's magic, but it had been a dragon's breath that had sealed the magic in and that made it not inherently evil. Then again, that seemed fitting considering the owner of the sword.
He stood over Mordred's grave and he was conflicted between hatred and pity. He had many feelings for the boy resting beneath the earth and it would take him years to understand them fully and sort them out. But he felt he must say something so he spoke, his words echoing out into the empty air. He said he wished he could have acted differently in the Kara situation, that he was sorry for the end result. There was no absolution from the grave and Merlin started to think back on everything he'd been through with Mordred. Could Merlin have prevented those events somehow? If he had the choice would he kill Mordred back when he'd had the chance as a small child? Somehow, he thought he might, because though he had known of this possibility, he had not known Arthur so well as he did now, had not felt as deeply for him, had not seen the good Arthur could still do and should have done. But he also knew in his heart that Arthur would not have done differently and that, more than anything, gave Merlin peace.
But it did not stop him from feeling grief, both for Mordred's part given to him to play, and for the events that part had caused. He was at peace, but he was also angry by the time he left the grave. Merlin removed the marker to Mordred's grave, and since he dared not give the sword to Freya or leave it for anyone to find in a stone, he sent it into the earth by Mordred's body and put powerful spells over the area to stop anyone from desecrating it or finding it. The sword had become damaged beyond all repair by the evil it had wrought and though Merlin could not destroy it, he could hide it.
The second task he set for himself was as Dragonlord. He set out to find Aithusa. He hesitated to call the dragon to him, because of the dragon's youth and disabilities, and because some part of him felt that he must earn the dragon's trust by not using his power over him too readily. He journeyed long but the part of him that was kin to the dragons found the white dragon in the end.
Merlin found Aithusa afraid and alone and was saddened because he knew that the only times this dragon had ever met Merlin, apart from his birth, where when Merlin had been commanding him to do something. Aithusa shrunk back from contact with Merlin, but he was patient and waited for the dragon to come to him.
When Aithusa did so, Merlin soothed him and reached out with his magic. It took a while but he finally figured out that even though Aithusa could not speak it did not matter for Merlin could speak mind to mind with him. And so Aithusa told his story.
He spoke of how Kilgarrah took care of him, but one day while Kilgarrah was hunting Aithusa came across a woman and she was in pain and hurt. He felt compassion for her and healed her and she was kind to him and they were together from that point on. But then they were kidnapped and for two years he grew and was misshapen and deformed and lost the ability to speak through torture. He was tormented by the memory and Merlin reached into his mind to comfort him and give him time. When he continued, Aithusa said Morgana never left him or did anything to hurt him and he was grateful and bound to her. So when they escaped he followed her willingly.
But Aithusa was confused to see Merlin in the tunnels of Ismere because Merlin yelled at him and made him stop doing what Morgana wanted him to do. It bewildered him greatly for he did not know that he was doing wrong and then Merlin tried to save him. He knew from Kilgarrah's lessons and his own heart that the Dragonlord was to be obeyed and was wise and that planted doubt in his mind but he was still young and alone so he stayed with Morgana and could not bear to abandon her.
The young dragon was slow in his tale and was often too upset by his own memories to keep going so Merlin stayed with him many days, earning his trust, teaching him of Arthur and the Old Religion and magic and the truth. He had feared to tell Aithusa of Morgana's death but he did not feel he could keep it from him so he said it was well as he could. Aithusa literally erupted with grief and Merlin was ready with a shielding spell. It took many more days after that before Aithusa was strong enough and willing to tell Merlin more about his life. It came out in bits and pieces and gradually Aithusa was comfortable enough to tell Merlin everything.
Aithusa had been conflicted when Morgana asked him to hurt Merlin on their way to the Cauldron of Arianrhod and he was glad Merlin forced him away, but he still did not know where to go. He stayed with her till the end and he could not refuse her requests. So it was out of loyalty to Morgana that he forged the evil blade, not knowing what he was doing. He had felt more and more uncomfortable in her company and came to the battle of Camlann with dread. He was glad to see Merlin and have him stop him for he felt that what he was doing was wrong, but he wanted vengeance even as Morgana did, their emotional bond had caused him to feel some of her hatred and he was ever loyal. But now she was gone and he was lost.
Merlin thanked him for his tale and promised to help him all that he could. Aithusa bowed his head and said he wanted to learn and that he needed Merlin. Merlin gave him his own forgiveness such as it was and then called for Kilgarrah. The old dragon came, older and more tired-looking than when Merlin had just seen him, but he received his young charge with joy and promised to look after him and teach him the ways of the dragons so they would not be lost.
Merlin felt at a loss after the dragons departed because he'd been driven to do these tasks and now that they were done he had nothing to do but remember and mourn. He had put aside his own feelings to see to those around him, to fulfill his duty as the warlock Emrys, but now there was no immediate task. So he traveled to Ealdor because he might be the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen and destined to do great things, but he suddenly felt very old and very tired and he wanted nothing more than to see his mother.
And he did so and felt better instantly. She coddled him and cooked for him and listened to him talk and cry and he chopped wood and ran errands and felt like the young Merlin he'd been before all the burdens had been dropped on his shoulders. Slowly he felt his heart begin to heal. But it did not last for long because one day a messenger arrived from Camelot and gave him a message from Gwen begging his help.
She had indeed taken up the throne and the people had accepted her with love and faith in their hearts. She was wise and fair and they trusted her. She had kept her word and pronounced magic as legal within the boundaries of Camelot, though she warned that sorcery that was used for evil would be as punishable by death as ever. The Druids were given absolute absolution instead of the tacit peace they'd held since Arthur's reign had begun. The land had already begun to flower.
But not all evils were of magic and the Saxons were pressing fast upon the borders of not just Camelot, but of their allies, and those who had been afraid to use their magic openly were now practicing it and not all those who did so were of good intent. Merlin found himself pressed into open battle such as he had never been before.
He journeyed wherever he was needed and his skills were much sought after. He fought many battles with sorcerers, defeating them one and all. Sometimes it was luck and sometimes it was trickery and sometimes it was help that saved him, but Merlin reflected that just as it was Arthur's destiny to die so it was Merlin's burden to live. So he did live, to the best of his ability, though it was hard work sometimes. Sometimes all he wanted to do was sail to Avalon and rest as well. But he still had those he loved, a kingdom he had shed enough blood and tears over, and he would not now give in.
The Saxons learned to fear the name of Emrys and sometimes normal people in villages would look on him in fear when he rode by and the white dragon who often followed behind him. He somewhat missed the days of Merlin the fool who everybody trusted, but he could not regret the healthy respect magic now received and the good that was done with it. The best days were when he was able to heal rather than destroy and to save rather than fight. He made many new friends and allies, one day he and Gilli fought together against an evil sorceress and Merlin was able to remind his friend that the time they had looked for had now come.
Merlin did not live anywhere, but everywhere, yet he could be found often at Camelot. The Queen sought his counsel though he thought she needed it rarely. The two would sit together and speak of the old days quietly and he cherished their time together. Oftentimes he could be found in the training yards, swapping stories with the knights and regaling the younger ones with tales of Arthur, Lancelot, Gwaine, and Elyan. Leon and Percival always insisted on buying him an ale and making him tell them the truth about a different journey they'd shared once upon a time. Then he would often have a meal with Gaius or would eat with Gwen and her young son.
He delighted in the young Prince, born of the union of his two best friends. An heir for Arthur and Camelot to be proud of, a boy free from the bigotry of Uther, and flowering under the tutelage of Gwen's wisdom. The boy was a great favorite with Aithusa who often stayed in Camelot after Kilgarrah's old age finally caused him to lay down and be at peace. A great cairn was raised over him on the mountains above Camelot and Merlin placed many spells of blessing and protection over his old friend and advisor.
There came a day when Gwen summoned him to Camelot as Gaius was on his last days and Merlin spent some time in the castle, making tinctures and draughts, taking care of the man who once took care of him. He slept in his old room and the past stirred in his mind more than he normally let it. He was sad to see Gaius so old, but at least this death was a natural one and ordered not by destiny but by life. He was not tempted to use magic to save Gaius because this time Gaius was ready. Merlin was there in the end as Gaius lay in his bed. Flowers from his patients and well wishers and friends filled the room until Merlin laughingly told the deliverers to stop as there would be no room for him.
Gaius held his hand and spoke haltingly of how proud he was, how impressed he was Merlin had lasted so long, how much he loved him. Merlin's eyes welled up with tears and he had his own thanks and gratitude to give to the man who had many times proved he would give up his life for him. When Gaius died Merlin sat back in his chair and wept awhile before Gwen came to him and sat by his side, holding his hand and laying her other on the hand of her old friend.
They laid Gaius to rest with honor and ceremony with the Kings and Gwen and Merlin stood long at his grave, saying nothing. When they turned to leave Merlin spoke and said he would not be coming back to Camelot. For him the grief was too near and he had lost too much. He was always there if she needed him and she was never to hesitate to summon him, but he would not come to stay anymore. Gwen nodded, her eyes ever understanding, and he hugged her for a long time before taking his leave, though he spoke with the young Prince, telling him many things before he took his leave.
He spent his days watching over Albion, watching everyone he loved die, some in battle like Percival, saving his Prince, some, like Leon, living to a ripe old age and dying peacefully. His mother also died peacefully and his heart ached but he was so glad that he'd been able to give her that. That she'd lived to see the days renewed, that she had not fallen to a bandit like Kanen, or died at the cruel hands of the Old Religion. He buried her himself in the rich earth that she'd loved and he whispered words of power over her grave, placing the carved figure of a dragon, created by his father, on top.
When Guinevere was to die, Merlin felt it, he didn't know how, but he did not question it. He journeyed at once to Camelot where her son now ruled as King, in a fair and bright kingdom, and sat by her side while she slipped away. He held her hand, she was now old and frail, but no one could doubt her beautiful still. She recognized him with a smile though he was now truly Emrys, just as old as she was, white beard and wrinkled skin, more cantankerous than he had ever been. She whispered his name and thanked him for coming. He spoke to her, telling her of the dragon's words to him, of Arthur's rising again, and said he would take her to him. A single tear slid from her eyes, but she said not a word, simply sighed and seemed to let go, as though willing to do anything to see her beloved again.
No one, not even her son, contested Merlin's right to take her body and he journeyed with her to the shores of Avalon. He gave the same thought and attention to her memorial as he had to Arthur's, giving her the same blessing, and laid her in a boat with red and gold silk underneath her, her crown on her head, a purple flower at her breast, an image of regality and purity. He sent her to be with Arthur, to rest with him for he knew that it should be so. For just as he and Arthur were two sides of the same coin, Gwen and Arthur were two halves of one heart and when Arthur was needed again, he would need the wisdom and grace of his Queen.
And so it was that his old life was completely gone and he lived on. He could not die while his destiny was in full force. He spent all the days of his life, watching and waiting, protecting the Earth, never straying far from Arthur's final resting place at Avalon. His magic grew even as he spent less time using it. The world changed and he became a legend within it, the names Merlin and Emrys interchanged, the origins of his birth sometimes fantastically re-imagined. Occasionally he would change his appearance and become the young boy he had once been, though he was never young in his heart. Sometimes he did feats that changed the course of history. But always he waited for the moment, the one time, where Arthur would be needed again. There were many events in history, wars and revolutions that he thought would surely need Arthur's aid, but other lesser men and women were able to stem the tide and protect Albion or Briton as it was then called.
But there came a day, some fifteen hundred years after he had sent Arthur to his rest, that was different than the other times. Because that day was when he somehow knew it was time. With a strong sense of destiny on his heart he went to the shore of Avalon and he waited. Then he saw two figures on a boat coming to him from the mist. A man and a woman. She was beautiful and compassion and wisdom rested on her. He was tall and strong, dressed in chain mail with a rich, red cape flowing from his shoulders. As he watched them come to the shore Merlin felt complete. He felt young again for the first time in so very long. He felt the magic rise up within him and he became the young man he had always been, the man he was to Arthur, his master.
There was a real majesty to the moment, a sense of fate, an impending doom on the horizon, but Merlin was tired of destiny, had been waiting too long, had saved the world too many times. All he could think about was now he was as he was supposed to be, loyal servant, cheeky friend, and magical advisor. So he shouted across the water and the greeting was nothing like what Merlin had envisioned himself saying. He hollered for Arthur to rise and shine, that the royal snooze needed to come to an end because the King was needed.
The boat came to a stop before the shore and Arthur stepped out, young and untouched by time, he helped Gwen out of the boat, keeping her hand in his. He looked at Merlin in confusion, said his name, then asked what on earth Merlin was wearing?
Merlin looked down at his t-shirt, fisherman's jacket, and jeans while Gwen chuckled from beside him. They were slightly too tight since his body had changed in the past few moments and he momentarily regretted the lack of old freedom wearing simple robes had given him once. But he let Arthur pull the knitted cap from his head and smiled truly for the first time in fifteen hundred years and thought that he was going to have a lot of fun with this knowing everything when Arthur knew nothing thing.
But he bowed instead and simply said that his Sire's work was not yet done and he was honored to serve him once more. Arthur clasped his hand to Merlin's arm and smiled his brilliant smile, reserved especially for when Merlin was being especially ridiculous. Gwen put her hand on Merlin's shoulder and squeezed it and he bowed to her as well. The three were reunited and Merlin led them away from the shore and toward the future.
by Jesterlady
Rating: PG
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen
Summary: For Arthur is not just a king, he is the once and future king. When Albion's need is greatest, he will rise again. Until then Merlin will do as he has always done, put all the pieces together, take care of his friends, be magic, and wait for his King.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. The title comes from J.C. Ryle.
A/N: Extreme spoilers for 5x13! This isn't necessarily a fix-it, but I feel like it brings more closure to the episode, letting us know what actually happened with the other relationships on the show, with the legality of magic, the storylines that never got resolved, with Merlin's ultimate fate. My apologies if you find errors because I've beta-d it myself, but was in too much of a hurry to post it to have someone else do it. Please let me know if you see anything obvious. Thank you.
For Time and Eternity
Merlin stood on the shore of the lake for a long time. He thought of many things, about the past and the present and the future. He was struck by the age old question of where to go from here. Life stretched out before him, long, vast, and empty.
Everything had changed. It was as if his life was divided into two parts, before Arthur died and after. He preferred the before part. Even though it had been hard and unbearable at times, he'd had a clear path laid out before him to keep Arthur safe. No matter Kilgarrah's words, Merlin felt like he had failed. All he had left was the knowledge that Arthur would return. He had to grasp hold of that or he might just fling himself into the lake.
But Merlin was not desperate by nature nor was Arthur the only thing in his life. He still had Gaius and Gwen and the knights and Camelot and he had, still, a destiny. For he was no longer simply Merlin as he had been. Ever since he'd left the Crystal Cave he had truly been Emrys. In a way it was like throwing off the mantle of Merlin and becoming his true self as his father had said. Like donning a second skin. Yet this skin was a bit irritating because he was so used to the old one and he knew it would take time to be able to fully bear the idea of being Emrys for all of time. For his duty was now to wait, to wait for his master to return, so they could fulfill their destiny. His was the hard way, walking the slow path while Arthur slept the peace of the mighty.
Merlin wiped at his eyes one more time feeling as if he'd cried every tear in his life over again. He whispered his goodbyes over the cool night air; it had long been dark as he stood there. He let go of Arthur, ceding him into the care of magic, time, and Freya. He spared a brief thought of gratitude for her and then turned to go.
For he had yet another task ahead of him and perhaps he had been avoiding it. Serving Arthur unto his death was a privilege but there was another who had died that day and she lay not far from him. He walked, each step a heavy burden, until he reached Morgana's body.
He was struck by how innocent she looked. Despite the dark clothing and the signs of battle upon her, she was very young and very beautiful. He ached to look at her and think about the violence and hatred that had seethed beneath the surface. He wished that she could have been as she was when he first met her, a valiant and strong woman, streaked through with compassion and passion. He had long admired her and he wanted to weep when he thought of the courage and conviction she'd shown when she saved Mordred, or the loyalty and valor she had exhibited when helping him save Ealdor.
But she had made choices, choices that led to the dark, twisted beauty on the ground before him. Most of those choices were hers, but some were his, like when he was trying to thwart the vision of the crystals and caused her to learn of her heritage, or forcing the dragon to help him heal her when instead her death would have saved her all this pain. Of course the greatest impact of one of his decisions was the time he had poisoned her. In his dreams he could still see the look on her face when she realized what he had done and how she had struggled against him when he held her in his arms. He had not seen her for a year after that and he cringed at the dark thoughts that must have crept into her mind urged on by his betrayal. Upon thinking back on their interactions, maybe his biggest mistake was not revealing who he was to her and helping her develop her magic in a positive way. Perhaps she would not have gone so easily to Morgause. Perhaps she could have been a force for good no matter what the prophecies had to say.
But it had not been so. All his choices for good or ill, and all her evil had led them here to this place. She had wrought much damage, taken the lives of many good men and women, and the life of the finest man Merlin had ever known, her own brother and Merlin's best friend. For that alone she did not deserve a burial or a marked grave, but Merlin could not leave her thus. So he raised his arms and commanded the earth to move and her body was sunk low into the earth and he flinched as the dirt covered her over and he caught one last glimpse of the woman he'd known. Stones flew to the spot and marked it, but he would not carve anything to show who was there.
There was a noise from behind him and when Merlin turned, Percival was standing there, looking as shocked as Merlin had ever seen the man look. Merlin watched the realization of Merlin's true self reach fruition in the other man's mind, but was surprised to see Percival sheathe his sword and greet him as a brother. Merlin accepted it but his mind was too heavy with the news he must share to wonder at it. Instead he listened to Percival tell him of his journey, of their trickery with Morgana's spy, and Gwaine's death.
Another blow to his heart and Merlin could not stop the tears though he'd thought them long wept dry. Percival himself was obviously not beyond being moved though then he asked of Arthur and Merlin had to tell his own story. He was not detailed for some things he could not tell anyone, except perhaps Gwen, but he told how he sent Arthur to his rest and of the fall of Morgana. Percival's face fell as he received the news and Merlin wondered how many more people would have to feel that way, to feel the loss of the greatest King who had ever lived, and yet who had barely lived.
Percival then asked him about his magic and Merlin told him the truth and the knight simply nodded and said that he knew Merlin's friendship was true and then he thanked him for his part in being saved many times as must have been the case. Merlin was surprised and showed it, but Percival merely cracked a smile and said he was not just a pretty face and that it really was the only explanation for all the times they'd all miraculously survived on their many journeys together.
They stood there together in the dark and Percival suggested they head back to Camelot to let everyone know but Merlin first asked him what had been done for Gwaine. Percival hung his head and said that he'd been in such haste to reach Arthur he had not had time to bury his friend or to bring him with him.
At that Merlin's mind was made up. He would not leave another friend in the cold if he could help it. Therefore he announced they should return to Gwaine before his body became defiled. Percival did not argue with him as he might once have done, but he did make the point that Camelot and the Queen should be notified. Merlin knew he was right and he turned, summoning the elements to him. Birds flocked to him and the winds and he whispered words in the Old Religion to them all to bear the news to Camelot and notify the Queen of her King's death.
When he turned back to Percival the knight looked stunned and slightly afraid. Merlin smiled at him, or tried to smile. He was not in the mood for being cheerful even if it would help one of his friends. But Percival straightened up and actually bowed to him before getting his horse and stated they had no light for travel at night. Merlin smirked at that and, getting up behind him on his horse, conjured a light that made the path ahead of them bright as day. They galloped on into the night.
It was long before they reached their destination and Merlin's mind had a lot of time to wander. He avoided thinking about Arthur at all and concentrated on the man they were riding for. Such a man as Merlin had never known, affable and good-hearted, brash and merry, yet who had never had a friend until Merlin himself. A man who had fought with him and Arthur in a tavern brawl without even knowing who they were, who had saved Arthur in the melee though he had been unfairly banished, how he had, unquestioning, helped Merlin in his quest to the Fisher King, how he had become a true knight, and how he had just guarded Merlin as he traveled to the Valley of the Fallen Kings without knowing the reason why.
Perhaps Gwaine had known Merlin had magic and had guessed at his reasons for going into the Valley. Merlin hoped so, because he did not want any of his friends to think he'd lied to them out of malice or had not trusted them. In any case he was glad he'd had a chance to say goodbye to Gwaine and that they had parted well.
When they reached his body, Merlin sent the birds just gathering to flight with a wave of his power. He rushed to Gwaine who was lying in the shelter of a tree, placed there by his friend. He gathered him in his arms and hated the cold stiffness of the once lively man. He spoke his name over and over, feeling the renewed grief pour through him.
Percival stood there silent for awhile and then asked if they should bury him or bring him to Camelot. Merlin knew the honor Gwaine deserved so they rode for the shores of the lake. Percival rode with Gwaine draped before him and Merlin walked. Percival had objected and Merlin was not used to receiving so much deference so he'd insisted he was still the same Merlin and could walk.
When they arrived at the lake Merlin conjured a boat from the fallen wood of the trees causing Percival to again look at him with awe. Percival carried Gwaine and laid him gently down. They placed his cloak and sword around him. The two of them sent Gwaine out onto the water and Merlin could not help but reflect that he had done this too many times before. It was how he sent Arthur, how he sent Lancelot and Freya, how Elyan was sent. Percival and he stood on the shore and watched the boat float off under Merlin's spoken word. He spoke another and flames ignited in the boat, sending off waves of red light on the water.
After that they slept for a little while to rest the horse and themselves. Neither of them had really slept for days. Merlin was so exhausted in body and mind that he slept deeply and did not have the nightmares he'd feared he would. But the waking was a terrible one. The events, the deaths, the end of everything he'd loved, seemed to fling themselves into his face upon the opening of his eyes and he shrunk back from the gray life they presented to him. Percival was solemn as they rode for Camelot and they did not speak much. Merlin was grateful for the other man's silence because he did not have the heart to speak and he knew that his greatest trial was yet ahead of him.
When they reached Camelot he sent Percival to tell Leon and the knights of Gwaine's death and Merlin went straight to the Queen. He found her in the Great Hall standing by the windows next to the Round Table, looking out and clutching Arthur's ring in her hands. She was standing tall, wearing red and gold, her hair neatly combed and braided, yet when she turned to face him her face spoke of a grief as powerful as his own and there were lines on her face and red around her eyes.
She said his name sadly and she smiled gently at him and he could not bear the guilt he felt for not bringing her husband home to her, or even a body for her to say farewell. He turned away from her and started to speak, almost without knowing what he was saying. He told her of Arthur's journey and how he often spoke of her and his love for her. He told her of Arthur's courage in the battle and his graciousness toward himself. He told her of his last breath and how Merlin had sent him to his destiny. He rambled on a long time then, telling her so many things he'd never been able to tell Arthur, all the stories of the last ten years, all the shame and the joy, he told her at last exactly what Arthur had told him the time they'd gone to rescue her from Hengist. Many odd things he'd wanted to say for years and never could.
As he spoke he felt her draw closer to him, her hand on his arm, she gently turned him to face her, and his voice died away into the silence. Her face was so tender, yet tinged with such sorrow he could not bear it. So he told her he was sorry, sorry he wasn't good enough, fast enough, smart enough, brave enough. Her face was quiet and restrained, regal even, and he was pierced by the sudden thought of how Queenly she was and always had been. Yet she had grown as well, the years had brought her much pain and maturity and wisdom. He oddly wished she would ramble on in embarrassment as she had done when they'd first met. Instead she gave him atonement.
She told him she knew who he was and she accepts him as such and thanked him for all he'd done for them. She said she did not hold him guilty of Arthur's death and she knew of no one but herself who would have taken as good care of him. She said that she knew magic was not evil because nothing Merlin was could be inherently evil. She said she would make magic free again in the land and that he was to be her advisor for she needed his help. She could not do this alone, could not rule or take up Arthur's chair in Camelot without him. Merlin broke under the Queen's mercy and they wept long together, holding each other, for no one loved Arthur more than the two of them.
And they spoke long into the night, the two old friends. Merlin answered all of her questions and told her most of what he could recall about the many things he'd done since he'd been to Camelot. He told her of his destiny to help Arthur unite Albion and bring magic back to the land. Gwen was a silent recipient of his stories and he could not help but feel a little bit more alive, more alive than he'd felt since the lake. For they two were joined in grief and friendship and purpose and Merlin could not simply waste away in pain while Guinevere stood tall and strong as Arthur would have wanted.
The dawn came and Merlin took his leave of the Queen having gained her permission to go on a quest. He would not stay for the official announcement of her rule but he promised he would be back. Gwen parted from him with a kiss on the cheek and an earnest thank you in his ear.
Merlin went to Gaius and to his old room and when he pushed open the door he was hit with the odd sensation that he could not stay there anymore. He had grown too big or the rooms too small or maybe he'd just done all he needed to there. But that was a thought for another day because Gaius was there waiting and he did indeed have Merlin's favorite meal ready for him. Merlin tried to smile and say hello but nothing came out. Gaius simply nodded, his face saying everything. He came forward and hugged his young apprentice, not so young anymore. They ate in silence before Merlin was able to speak again. He related the same story again, telling Gaius all that Kilgarrah had told him. Gaius said all the right things as he always did and Merlin basked in the knowledge of being under his tutelage and wisdom, this one last time anyway. He said goodbye because he had work to do and not a lot of time in which to do it. He gathered his few possessions and the Sidhe staff and left Camelot for he had set two tasks for himself.
The first task was to find the cursed blade Mordred used on Arthur and make sure no one could wield it again. He hunted long for it without success. He felt it must be with Mordred's body and searched near the White Mountains. The closer he came the more he could sense the evil magic of the sword. His senses were more powerful now than they had ever been. He could just tell how useful and jarring that was going to be. Eventually he found the pile of rocks and the sword sticking to the ground in front of it. Gradually he reached his hand to it and picked up the sword.
He was shocked by the twisted magic used to make it. Perhaps he should not have been since it was Morgana's magic, but it had been a dragon's breath that had sealed the magic in and that made it not inherently evil. Then again, that seemed fitting considering the owner of the sword.
He stood over Mordred's grave and he was conflicted between hatred and pity. He had many feelings for the boy resting beneath the earth and it would take him years to understand them fully and sort them out. But he felt he must say something so he spoke, his words echoing out into the empty air. He said he wished he could have acted differently in the Kara situation, that he was sorry for the end result. There was no absolution from the grave and Merlin started to think back on everything he'd been through with Mordred. Could Merlin have prevented those events somehow? If he had the choice would he kill Mordred back when he'd had the chance as a small child? Somehow, he thought he might, because though he had known of this possibility, he had not known Arthur so well as he did now, had not felt as deeply for him, had not seen the good Arthur could still do and should have done. But he also knew in his heart that Arthur would not have done differently and that, more than anything, gave Merlin peace.
But it did not stop him from feeling grief, both for Mordred's part given to him to play, and for the events that part had caused. He was at peace, but he was also angry by the time he left the grave. Merlin removed the marker to Mordred's grave, and since he dared not give the sword to Freya or leave it for anyone to find in a stone, he sent it into the earth by Mordred's body and put powerful spells over the area to stop anyone from desecrating it or finding it. The sword had become damaged beyond all repair by the evil it had wrought and though Merlin could not destroy it, he could hide it.
The second task he set for himself was as Dragonlord. He set out to find Aithusa. He hesitated to call the dragon to him, because of the dragon's youth and disabilities, and because some part of him felt that he must earn the dragon's trust by not using his power over him too readily. He journeyed long but the part of him that was kin to the dragons found the white dragon in the end.
Merlin found Aithusa afraid and alone and was saddened because he knew that the only times this dragon had ever met Merlin, apart from his birth, where when Merlin had been commanding him to do something. Aithusa shrunk back from contact with Merlin, but he was patient and waited for the dragon to come to him.
When Aithusa did so, Merlin soothed him and reached out with his magic. It took a while but he finally figured out that even though Aithusa could not speak it did not matter for Merlin could speak mind to mind with him. And so Aithusa told his story.
He spoke of how Kilgarrah took care of him, but one day while Kilgarrah was hunting Aithusa came across a woman and she was in pain and hurt. He felt compassion for her and healed her and she was kind to him and they were together from that point on. But then they were kidnapped and for two years he grew and was misshapen and deformed and lost the ability to speak through torture. He was tormented by the memory and Merlin reached into his mind to comfort him and give him time. When he continued, Aithusa said Morgana never left him or did anything to hurt him and he was grateful and bound to her. So when they escaped he followed her willingly.
But Aithusa was confused to see Merlin in the tunnels of Ismere because Merlin yelled at him and made him stop doing what Morgana wanted him to do. It bewildered him greatly for he did not know that he was doing wrong and then Merlin tried to save him. He knew from Kilgarrah's lessons and his own heart that the Dragonlord was to be obeyed and was wise and that planted doubt in his mind but he was still young and alone so he stayed with Morgana and could not bear to abandon her.
The young dragon was slow in his tale and was often too upset by his own memories to keep going so Merlin stayed with him many days, earning his trust, teaching him of Arthur and the Old Religion and magic and the truth. He had feared to tell Aithusa of Morgana's death but he did not feel he could keep it from him so he said it was well as he could. Aithusa literally erupted with grief and Merlin was ready with a shielding spell. It took many more days after that before Aithusa was strong enough and willing to tell Merlin more about his life. It came out in bits and pieces and gradually Aithusa was comfortable enough to tell Merlin everything.
Aithusa had been conflicted when Morgana asked him to hurt Merlin on their way to the Cauldron of Arianrhod and he was glad Merlin forced him away, but he still did not know where to go. He stayed with her till the end and he could not refuse her requests. So it was out of loyalty to Morgana that he forged the evil blade, not knowing what he was doing. He had felt more and more uncomfortable in her company and came to the battle of Camlann with dread. He was glad to see Merlin and have him stop him for he felt that what he was doing was wrong, but he wanted vengeance even as Morgana did, their emotional bond had caused him to feel some of her hatred and he was ever loyal. But now she was gone and he was lost.
Merlin thanked him for his tale and promised to help him all that he could. Aithusa bowed his head and said he wanted to learn and that he needed Merlin. Merlin gave him his own forgiveness such as it was and then called for Kilgarrah. The old dragon came, older and more tired-looking than when Merlin had just seen him, but he received his young charge with joy and promised to look after him and teach him the ways of the dragons so they would not be lost.
Merlin felt at a loss after the dragons departed because he'd been driven to do these tasks and now that they were done he had nothing to do but remember and mourn. He had put aside his own feelings to see to those around him, to fulfill his duty as the warlock Emrys, but now there was no immediate task. So he traveled to Ealdor because he might be the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen and destined to do great things, but he suddenly felt very old and very tired and he wanted nothing more than to see his mother.
And he did so and felt better instantly. She coddled him and cooked for him and listened to him talk and cry and he chopped wood and ran errands and felt like the young Merlin he'd been before all the burdens had been dropped on his shoulders. Slowly he felt his heart begin to heal. But it did not last for long because one day a messenger arrived from Camelot and gave him a message from Gwen begging his help.
She had indeed taken up the throne and the people had accepted her with love and faith in their hearts. She was wise and fair and they trusted her. She had kept her word and pronounced magic as legal within the boundaries of Camelot, though she warned that sorcery that was used for evil would be as punishable by death as ever. The Druids were given absolute absolution instead of the tacit peace they'd held since Arthur's reign had begun. The land had already begun to flower.
But not all evils were of magic and the Saxons were pressing fast upon the borders of not just Camelot, but of their allies, and those who had been afraid to use their magic openly were now practicing it and not all those who did so were of good intent. Merlin found himself pressed into open battle such as he had never been before.
He journeyed wherever he was needed and his skills were much sought after. He fought many battles with sorcerers, defeating them one and all. Sometimes it was luck and sometimes it was trickery and sometimes it was help that saved him, but Merlin reflected that just as it was Arthur's destiny to die so it was Merlin's burden to live. So he did live, to the best of his ability, though it was hard work sometimes. Sometimes all he wanted to do was sail to Avalon and rest as well. But he still had those he loved, a kingdom he had shed enough blood and tears over, and he would not now give in.
The Saxons learned to fear the name of Emrys and sometimes normal people in villages would look on him in fear when he rode by and the white dragon who often followed behind him. He somewhat missed the days of Merlin the fool who everybody trusted, but he could not regret the healthy respect magic now received and the good that was done with it. The best days were when he was able to heal rather than destroy and to save rather than fight. He made many new friends and allies, one day he and Gilli fought together against an evil sorceress and Merlin was able to remind his friend that the time they had looked for had now come.
Merlin did not live anywhere, but everywhere, yet he could be found often at Camelot. The Queen sought his counsel though he thought she needed it rarely. The two would sit together and speak of the old days quietly and he cherished their time together. Oftentimes he could be found in the training yards, swapping stories with the knights and regaling the younger ones with tales of Arthur, Lancelot, Gwaine, and Elyan. Leon and Percival always insisted on buying him an ale and making him tell them the truth about a different journey they'd shared once upon a time. Then he would often have a meal with Gaius or would eat with Gwen and her young son.
He delighted in the young Prince, born of the union of his two best friends. An heir for Arthur and Camelot to be proud of, a boy free from the bigotry of Uther, and flowering under the tutelage of Gwen's wisdom. The boy was a great favorite with Aithusa who often stayed in Camelot after Kilgarrah's old age finally caused him to lay down and be at peace. A great cairn was raised over him on the mountains above Camelot and Merlin placed many spells of blessing and protection over his old friend and advisor.
There came a day when Gwen summoned him to Camelot as Gaius was on his last days and Merlin spent some time in the castle, making tinctures and draughts, taking care of the man who once took care of him. He slept in his old room and the past stirred in his mind more than he normally let it. He was sad to see Gaius so old, but at least this death was a natural one and ordered not by destiny but by life. He was not tempted to use magic to save Gaius because this time Gaius was ready. Merlin was there in the end as Gaius lay in his bed. Flowers from his patients and well wishers and friends filled the room until Merlin laughingly told the deliverers to stop as there would be no room for him.
Gaius held his hand and spoke haltingly of how proud he was, how impressed he was Merlin had lasted so long, how much he loved him. Merlin's eyes welled up with tears and he had his own thanks and gratitude to give to the man who had many times proved he would give up his life for him. When Gaius died Merlin sat back in his chair and wept awhile before Gwen came to him and sat by his side, holding his hand and laying her other on the hand of her old friend.
They laid Gaius to rest with honor and ceremony with the Kings and Gwen and Merlin stood long at his grave, saying nothing. When they turned to leave Merlin spoke and said he would not be coming back to Camelot. For him the grief was too near and he had lost too much. He was always there if she needed him and she was never to hesitate to summon him, but he would not come to stay anymore. Gwen nodded, her eyes ever understanding, and he hugged her for a long time before taking his leave, though he spoke with the young Prince, telling him many things before he took his leave.
He spent his days watching over Albion, watching everyone he loved die, some in battle like Percival, saving his Prince, some, like Leon, living to a ripe old age and dying peacefully. His mother also died peacefully and his heart ached but he was so glad that he'd been able to give her that. That she'd lived to see the days renewed, that she had not fallen to a bandit like Kanen, or died at the cruel hands of the Old Religion. He buried her himself in the rich earth that she'd loved and he whispered words of power over her grave, placing the carved figure of a dragon, created by his father, on top.
When Guinevere was to die, Merlin felt it, he didn't know how, but he did not question it. He journeyed at once to Camelot where her son now ruled as King, in a fair and bright kingdom, and sat by her side while she slipped away. He held her hand, she was now old and frail, but no one could doubt her beautiful still. She recognized him with a smile though he was now truly Emrys, just as old as she was, white beard and wrinkled skin, more cantankerous than he had ever been. She whispered his name and thanked him for coming. He spoke to her, telling her of the dragon's words to him, of Arthur's rising again, and said he would take her to him. A single tear slid from her eyes, but she said not a word, simply sighed and seemed to let go, as though willing to do anything to see her beloved again.
No one, not even her son, contested Merlin's right to take her body and he journeyed with her to the shores of Avalon. He gave the same thought and attention to her memorial as he had to Arthur's, giving her the same blessing, and laid her in a boat with red and gold silk underneath her, her crown on her head, a purple flower at her breast, an image of regality and purity. He sent her to be with Arthur, to rest with him for he knew that it should be so. For just as he and Arthur were two sides of the same coin, Gwen and Arthur were two halves of one heart and when Arthur was needed again, he would need the wisdom and grace of his Queen.
And so it was that his old life was completely gone and he lived on. He could not die while his destiny was in full force. He spent all the days of his life, watching and waiting, protecting the Earth, never straying far from Arthur's final resting place at Avalon. His magic grew even as he spent less time using it. The world changed and he became a legend within it, the names Merlin and Emrys interchanged, the origins of his birth sometimes fantastically re-imagined. Occasionally he would change his appearance and become the young boy he had once been, though he was never young in his heart. Sometimes he did feats that changed the course of history. But always he waited for the moment, the one time, where Arthur would be needed again. There were many events in history, wars and revolutions that he thought would surely need Arthur's aid, but other lesser men and women were able to stem the tide and protect Albion or Briton as it was then called.
But there came a day, some fifteen hundred years after he had sent Arthur to his rest, that was different than the other times. Because that day was when he somehow knew it was time. With a strong sense of destiny on his heart he went to the shore of Avalon and he waited. Then he saw two figures on a boat coming to him from the mist. A man and a woman. She was beautiful and compassion and wisdom rested on her. He was tall and strong, dressed in chain mail with a rich, red cape flowing from his shoulders. As he watched them come to the shore Merlin felt complete. He felt young again for the first time in so very long. He felt the magic rise up within him and he became the young man he had always been, the man he was to Arthur, his master.
There was a real majesty to the moment, a sense of fate, an impending doom on the horizon, but Merlin was tired of destiny, had been waiting too long, had saved the world too many times. All he could think about was now he was as he was supposed to be, loyal servant, cheeky friend, and magical advisor. So he shouted across the water and the greeting was nothing like what Merlin had envisioned himself saying. He hollered for Arthur to rise and shine, that the royal snooze needed to come to an end because the King was needed.
The boat came to a stop before the shore and Arthur stepped out, young and untouched by time, he helped Gwen out of the boat, keeping her hand in his. He looked at Merlin in confusion, said his name, then asked what on earth Merlin was wearing?
Merlin looked down at his t-shirt, fisherman's jacket, and jeans while Gwen chuckled from beside him. They were slightly too tight since his body had changed in the past few moments and he momentarily regretted the lack of old freedom wearing simple robes had given him once. But he let Arthur pull the knitted cap from his head and smiled truly for the first time in fifteen hundred years and thought that he was going to have a lot of fun with this knowing everything when Arthur knew nothing thing.
But he bowed instead and simply said that his Sire's work was not yet done and he was honored to serve him once more. Arthur clasped his hand to Merlin's arm and smiled his brilliant smile, reserved especially for when Merlin was being especially ridiculous. Gwen put her hand on Merlin's shoulder and squeezed it and he bowed to her as well. The three were reunited and Merlin led them away from the shore and toward the future.