The bonds of time

by QuestionMarkHeart

AU Reincarnation fic. Merlin is forced to relive his destiny over and over in different lives. He is made to lose the people he loves most over and over again, suffering the same heartache. Until something changes, until destiny rewrites itself. But then, what is he willing to risk to finally have the one he's loved for years? Eventual Merthur :)

1. Prologue

Warning: There will be some slashy slash later on in the story and a major age gap. If you're uncomfortable with that, best don't read.

A/N: I don't own Merlin but if there is any way I can, please let me know ;)

Prologue

He watched a hand reach up through the water and grab Excalibur. The sickening tight grip on his heart loosened a fraction and he took the dragon's words to heart. Arthur would rise again. And he would be there when he did.

He gave his king a burial fit for a knight of Camelot. He watched the boat drift solitary on the still water and tried to swallow past the lump that formed in his throat.

His king, his best friend, his other half; gone.

Merlin stood at the bank of the lake until he could no longer see the boat, until there was no trace of the once and future king. He felt a kind of heaviness take over. It seemed as if years of exhaustion came crashing down, the reality of what happened too much to carry on his shoulders alone.

He thought of Gwen, waiting for a man that would never come home. He thought of the knights that had fallen, the friends he had lost.

He thought of Morgana, hatred burning in her eyes even at her last breath. All the pain, betrayal and suffering. All that could have been avoided if he had maybe tried harder. Merlin looked down at his hands and found dry blood beneath his nails. He did not know if was Morgana's or Arthurs but the nausea took over either way.

His knees buckled and he curled in on himself.

He had never quite understood the sentiment of a broken heart. The concept seemed bizarre and unrealistic. But he held his hand to his chest and he swore there was less there. As if Arthur's death had shattered what made him human; ripped his spirit away.

The wet ground was cold against his cheek as he took a shuddering breath. He had never felt so tired before. Just a moment, he told himself. He would sleep for a just a moment and then he would get up. Yes, he would get up and carry on.

Carry on like his heart hadn't just drifted away on a wooden boat.

Just a moment, sleep for just a moment.