Whenever he could, for the past fifteen hundred years, Merlin would visit the spot where he lost the most important person in his life and he lost a piece of himself in the process.

He had watched the scenery change, the styles of the locals become exceedingly daring, and the technology grow.
He never became too attached- he knew he'd outlive anyone he met and didn't want to risk the pain he'd felt when he lost Arthur.

In this 'life', he was a retired doctor who spent his days walking the roads in silence. He had returned to the area where he last felt truly alive, as he grew wary of traveling and just wanted to feel as close to home as he could. So he moved to a small village by the lake, and had opened a practice.

But Merlin was tired. Every day the ache in his chest grew as the hope that Arthur would return dwindled.
He'd seen the world go through horrible times- war, famine, disease. But Arthur never came back. It seemed too late in Merlin's mind now.
Because really, in these times, how much use could a king with no knowledge of the 21st century be to the world? How could Arthur and he make a difference in a world so large and varied?
In their times things were simpler. He didn't think the two of them had a place in the world now. But, regardless, he wanted Arthur back with him. Even if they couldn't save the world, he would at least be whole again.

Since Arthur's death, Merlin had done the one thing Arthur specifically told him not to before he'd died- he changed. He was no longer the bright eyed, mischievious sorcerer who hoped for the best.
He was a saddened, worn out, white haired old man that had to fight with everything he had to make it through the day without his other half.
The only thing that kept Merlin going was his 'conversations' with Arthur at the lake. He'd tell him about his life, who he's met, what he's seen. Perhaps somewhere Arthur could hear him- perhaps his love for his king could pierce the fog of Avalon and carry his words to him.
So, every chance he got, Merlin came.

Today was warming up quickly, so as Merlin walked to the edge of the water and gazed out, he slipped his shoes and socks off. He slowly sat his aged body on the bank and let his feet slip into the water.
He used to spend a lot of time in the water here- the physical connection to it made the magic in his veins spark and he almost felt alive once more. Sometimes he could swear he could feel Arthur next to him in those moments, and it made the agony in his soul a little easier to carry for a bit.

Today, though, as his skin made contact and caused ripples in the lake, his magic roared to life and nearly knocked him over.
His breath caught in his chest as he jerked, the unexpected explosion of light in his very core a welcome but shocking experience.
In that same instance, not of his own volition, his hair grew shorter as his skin tightened and he could feel the absence of age in his bones once again.
His magic, long dormant for the most part, was flaring out from his very pores into the lake, causing beautiful glittering snakes of color rippling out towards the rubble of the tower. Merlin sat mesmerized as the colorful manifestion of his magic made it's way towards the island and crawled the stones. In a moment before his very eyes, the tower was whole again- looking as it did the day his world ended.

Merlin quickly shucked off his bag, hat, and jacket. He felt a pull towards the lake, stronger than ever before and he wasn't going to ignore it. He waded out to his chest, not knowing what to do but trusting his magic would guide him.
His breathing was heavy and his nerves were on high alert.
His heart thudded in his chest more than it had in years- he didn't allow himself to completely fall into the idea that this was it, because he didn't think he could take a hit to the heart like that. But he knew something was happening.
It had been so long since he felt the warmth of his essence, the connection to the earth, the sense of home he was getting right now.

He stood there a moment, before the water began to lap at his chest. The lake was always, fittingly, still as death so the movement was unnatural. Merlin kept his eyes fixed on the fog now spreading from the island.

"Arthur." he whispered to himself, his voice cracking.

A shape was emerging from the mist, a shape he hasn't seen in more lifetimes than he could count. The boat he had sent his king, his best friend, his everything on so long ago was floating towards him.

But no one was sitting in it.
Merlin felt his heart constrict, but he allowed himself the thought that perhaps he was to ride back in it to Avalon himself, whether to finally rest or to bring Arthur back to him.

Instead, as the boat inched closer, he finally saw the cargo the boat was carrying.
His still sleeping king, as he had been all those years ago.
Merlin pulled at the boat, bringing it to shallower water.

"Why? What am I supposed to do?" he said softly, whatever life left in his soul slowly seeping out. Arthur was still dead. What was he supposed to do with him?
But all thoughts stopped when he finally allowed himself to look at the blond laying in front of him.

He was beautiful- ethereal and golden. Merlin stroked his cheek, allowing himself to feel everything for the first time in years. His emotions came at him like a freight train, and a sob broke from him as it did all those years ago looking down at Arthur's still face.

"Arthur... I can't... why come back to me if you aren't really here? It's been so long... I'm so sorry for failing you. For failing everyone. I don't think we're even needed anymore, Arthur. The world has changed so much. But even if they don't need you, I do. I can't live another lifetime. Not without you. You know... I don't quite remember if I realized it myself then, or if I just realized it later on, but... I love you, Arthur. I always have. I wish I had told you that in your last moments- it's one of my biggest regrets. I know you didn't feel the same, but I wish you'd known how much you meant to me. How much you mattered. Please, I can't do this again. Please, Arthur." Merlin quietly confided, stroking the pale cheek beneath his hand. He touched their foreheads together once again, like he had so many years ago.

"I love you, Arthur Pendragon. Come back to me." he prayed, as he softly kissed the cold lips of his friend. Once again, his magic exploded, as it did when he touched the lake, and a shuddering breath was released against his mouth.

"Arthur! ARTHUR!" he exclaimed as he clamoured into the boat as well, grasping at Arthur's face and watching his eyes slowly open and his breathing even out.
Their eyes met and after a moment of confusion Arthur smiled up at him.

"There you are. I've been waiting for you." he softly whispered to Merlin, who's face was now the confused one.

"Waiting for me? I've been waiting for you. It's been-"

"Fifteen hundred years, I know. I've watched you the whole time."

"You... what?"

"Merlin, I know everything now. The prophecy, everything you've done, even a bit about our future... I might actually know more than you do come to think of it. " he smiled slyly at Merlin.

"You... what?"

"You already said that."

"Shut up! I mean, you... you, what were you waiting for me for?"

"You had to summon me."

"SUMMON YOU! I've done nothing but try to make you come back for over a thousand years!"

"Well, today it was different."
Merlin scoffed at this, but was still smiling. None of it mattered, what mattered was that Arthur was back.

"Okay, whatever. But... Arthur... you're back. You're here. Alive. I..."

"Merlin." Arthur said, raising his hand to Merlin's head as he had in his last moments. Merlin's eyes again met his and then suddenly they were only a breath apart, eyes half lidded and hearts racing.

"Arthur..." he replied back, hand sliding into blond softness.

Neither could tell you who moved that last inch, but neither cared. They just knew that they were finally reunited and their story had just begun.