A/N: I know the update is late (and way too late for the feast, but here it is anyway)
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, else the end would have been a lot different
Heaven, that was where he was. Heaven. Not in the figurative kind of way, but the real, literal heaven. The Gods had granted him a place here, thinking it would make him happy, seeing his parents again, his lost knights.
After a while, he even stood face to face again with his wife, Guinevere. Well, that is ex-wife, since she got remarried to none other than Leon. He couldn't bring himself to be mad or jealous, instead Arthur was even happy for the pair of them and could think of no one better for her than Leon.
Still there was something, or rather said someone missing. Where was he, the idiot? Of course, he didn't wish death upon his friend, but he had to admit, he missed him. And when Guinevere and Leon's children came to join them and even later their children, he knew something was seriously wrong. Where was Merlin? Surely he wasn't sent to hell? Bumbling, clumsy old Merlin, surely not. Maybe it was because he had magic? And so it was he spent another lifetime worrying.
One day, he didn't know how long it had been because he had lost all sense of time, he heard someone calling his name. Merlin? All of a sudden he was surrounded by a bright light and the next thing he knew, he saw his face. Merlin.
All the worries of the past years seemed like they had been completely irrelevant . Merlin hadn't changed one bit, big ears and all. The moment their eyes met, he felt like things made sense again and he finally understood why he wasn't mad or jealous at Gwen and Leon. His place wasn't next to her, maybe it never had been.
Before he could even take a step towards the man in front of him, he felt a pair of arms around him, he moved his arms around the other man too.
"Arthur, I'm so sorry, I tried to save you but I was too late. Sorry, sorry, sorry…"
He kept repeating that little word over and over again, as if all could be undone if only he said often enough. But Arthur didn't care, all that was important was that Merlin was back.
"Hey, it's okay you dollophead. I was there, remember and it wasn't your fault."
They stood there for a while, in silence, wrapped around each other. Two halves, feeling whole again for the first time in a few lifetimes.
"Merlin, what's going on," Arthur whispered in his ear. Merlin reluctantly let him go and looked him in the eyes.
"It's Beltane."
"What? Merlin, could you-," the realization hit him. "The Horn of Gathbhadh."
Merlin nodded. "It was stolen, years ago, I have been tracking it down so I could see you again."
"But how are you still alive?"
The warlock explained everything, which was something he never thought he would do.
"So you have to wait?"
"Yes, until Albion's need is greatest."
Arthur knew he could never wish harm upon his kingdom, but this time he was torn. He didn't want to keep his friend waiting, not after everything he had already given up, not only for his king but also for the kingdom. Their kingdom.
The years passed and Merlin kept his word, each year at Beltane he would visit Arthur. They would talk, Merlin would inform him of the changes in the world. Together with some visualizations –thanks to Merlin's magic- Arthur could picture how the world looked like each year, but the only thing Arthur truly cared about was that he could see Merlin again. To Arthur heaven was no longer the place where his friends and family were.
Things were as good as they could get, until someone had the great idea to make the Stones Of Nemeth, Stonehenge, a touristic zone.
"I won't be able to visit you anymore," he looked down at his hands. Why, oh why would this happen? He had lost Arthur once and then it had seemed like destiny was just testing him. When he was granted a second chance, he had been grateful, but now it just seemed like the Gods and the powers of the world hated him.
Arthur knew this would be the last time he would see him before he would rise again and for once, he allowed himself to be led by his heart rather than by his mind. He took Merlin's hands and tangled them with his own. This was what was right and not even the Gods themselves would be able to separate them forever. They stood in silence, hands intertwined, but they needed no words to say what they thought.
Years passed and Merlin's soul grew darker and darker, there was no more hope and Arthur's soul couldn't enlighten his anymore. It felt like all those years before the Beltanes, except it was worse. Each time he thought the world, no Albion, was in need of Arthur, he allowed a small sprinkle of hope to grow in his heart, but every time it was shattered to pieces. Soon he stopped hoping at all.
He disguised himself into an old man again, always wandering at Arthur's grave, never looking forward and always with the king on his mind. It was true, so it seemed, that reminiscing was for those who lived in the past.
Every time he felt like he was going to give up, he looked down at his hands and he remembered why he stayed around, he knew Arthur saw the same when he looked down and it was enough –just enough- for Merlin to stay a while longer.
But as time went by, even that wasn't enough anymore and he started doubting again.
It was a Thursday and it was Beltane. The people paid no attention to the muttering old man by the lake –he stood there every day. The day went by and the sun set, but unlike the other days, the old man stayed. There was no one else around to see him or to witness what he would be doing.
When the moon stood on its highest point, the old man started talking again.
"Arthur? This is hopeless," he whispered some words. "I haven't changed, not really."
He pointed at himself, no longer the old bearded man from just moments ago.
"But Albion has, so much it isn't Albion anymore and it just feels like all that is left from it is me. So how could Albion be in need if it no longer exists?" He took a step into the water. "So I've decided," another step, "I won't keep you waiting much longer." He took another step, this one more confident than the others. "Forgive me, Arthur."
He felt himself surrounded by the cold and dark water and he allowed himself to feel one last time, to feel the earth, the wind, the moonlight on his face, to feel-. No, that wasn't right. He felt his magic coursing through his veins, itching under his skin, he could feel it in his bones and soul. What was happening?
"Merlin."
No, that couldn't be. He opened his eyes slowly, afraid it was only his mind playing tricks on him. In front of him stood Arthur. It really was him.
He couldn't move, could barely even breath, Arthur had returned.
Arthur didn't allow himself to think of the reasons for which Merlin stood in the lake, nor of the reason for which Merlin had asked forgiveness. Nor did he asked himself what possibly could have happened to Albion that had made Arthur return. Instead he stepped towards the sorcerer and took his hands in his own once more and when their lips met, Merlin knew that this time it was enough. Not just for now, but for the rest of his life.
And so it had come to pass, that when Merlin's need was greatest, Arthur rose again.
