Author's Note: Yeah, so pretty much I wrote this last night because I couldn't sleep (and I didn't have internet, so I couldn't go on Tumblr...) because after finishing watching 'Merlin' for the second time, I realized that I would never be at peace with the ending unless I wrote up a short little story about the future Merlin/Arthur reunion. So yeah. :D

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Darkness surrounded him, cold and oppressive, forcing the air from his body as he struggled to draw breath. Help me! He cried out in his mind as the icy liquid entered his mouth and burned in his lungs, silence ringing in his ears.

"Arthur? Arthur!" A familiar voice. Loud, anxious, panicked. He tried to remember where he'd heard it before, but everything was fading and he couldn't breathe, couldn't even call out...

Next thing he knew he was being pulled onto dry land, strong arms wrapping tightly around his torso and the sound of ragged breathing in his ear. Someone was murmuring encouragements as he turned over and spat water onto the grass and sand, coughing until his chest ached and his throat was raw. Hands gripped his shoulders tightly, anchoring him to reality as he slowly regained his senses.

"Arthur? Arthur, can you hear me?" The voice was clearer now, more distinct. Familiar and warm.

"Merlin," he exclaimed, bringing on another round of violent coughing. When he had finished hacking and wincing his way past the spasms in his chest, he finally mustered the strength to turn his head back toward his rescuer.

Merlin's sapphire eyes were huge as they met Arthur's. "You're back," the raven-haired boy muttered, almost as if he couldn't quite believe it, "it's really you. Arthur." He squeezed the King's shoulder in a painfully tight grip, as if making absolutely sure that Arthur was real and wouldn't vanish at any moment. And then he moved forward and was wrapping his arms around his friend, holding him tightly and burying his face in Arthur's shoulder, his dark hair brushing against the other man's chin. When he pulled away there were tear-tracks on his cheeks, but he was beaming widely. "I missed you. Even though you're an arrogant, royal ass," he teased, his voice shaking slightly and laced with affection.

Arthur smiled slightly, shuddering as the cold night wind ghosted over his soaking body and damp clothes, like frozen fingers tracing lines on his frigid skin. The crisp bite of early winter was in the air, and there was a thin layer of frost on every stiff blade of grass and dry brown leaf. The lake Merlin had pulled him from had a sheen of ice along its banks, although its surface hadn't yet frozen over completely, and the water dripping off his body was quickly beginning to freeze his clothing solid.

Merlin's eyes grew dark with concern when he noticed that his friend was shivering, and he rose to his feet at once. "My house is only a little ways from here. Do you think you can make it?"

Arthur took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. As he slowly pushed himself to his feet his legs threatened to give out, but Merlin caught him before he could sink to the ground again. Arthur leaned against his friend, soaking up the warmth of Merlin's body as the young warlock wrapped an arm around the King's shaking shoulders and supported him.

One step at a time the pair made their way up the bank and through the trees and shrubs, crossing a pathway made of solid black stone and dirt. Despite his hazy state of mind, everything seemed different to Arthur. The smells, the sounds, even the air in his mouth was somehow foreign, as if he were in a distant land rather than his very own Albion. He wanted to ask Merlin about it, but he was shuddering too hard to get out a coherent word, let alone a proper sentence.

"Here," Merlin nodded at a small cabin nestled in a grove of dark trees ahead, "I'll get a fire going once we're inside. Arthur?" He prompted when the knight didn't reply. "You still with me?"

"Of course, idiot," Arthur managed a weak chuckle, "where else would I go?"

"Good to know you haven't changed." Merlin smiled, rolling his eyes. "Even after a thousand years you're still an insufferable prat."

Arthur's eyes widened as fear and shock jolted through his body. "A thousand years?" He choked out, his breath catching in his throat as he turned to stare at Merlin.

Merlin stared back, looking first surprised then terrified. "I didn't mean to... Oh, gods, Arthur, please don't panic. The twenty-first century's not awful, really, I think you'll like it once you..."

But Arthur wasn't listening anymore. The pounding of blood in his ears blocked out all other sound as he sank back toward the oblivion of unconsciousness. His mind was numb, his heart racing. Everything I knew is gone, he thought with despair, Camelot, Gwen, the knights... My home, my people, swallowed by time. I'll never see them again. Gone, lost forever. And yet he was cursed to live on in this strange new future, all alone and afraid... His knees buckled, and he let himself fall forward into the comforting blackness that reared up to meet him.. . . . . . . . .

When he awoke again he was comfortably warm and there was something soft cushioning his aching back and shoulders. As his surroundings slowly came into focus he realized that he was in a small wood cabin, the rafters of the ceiling low overhead and the fire in the hearth blazing high.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was timid, afraid, barely more than a whisper. He cleared his throat, scooting into Arthur's view as he shifted his chair closer to the King's bed.

"Is it... Are they... It's all gone?" Arthur turned his face and stared at Merlin with desperation in his bright blue eyes. His tone was pleading and fearful; he already knew the answer but he needed to hear it from someone else before he believed it.

Slowly, Merlin nodded. "I'm sorry," he murmured, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry."

The young King closed his eyes, pain and loss rocking through his weakened body. His heart raced as panic began to overwhelm him, and he turned onto his side and wrapped his arms around himself as his breathing accelerated into short, shallow gasps. It felt as if he might split in two, the shock and terror ripping him apart from the inside out, threatening to explode out of him in a violent burst of emotion.

And then Merlin's hands were on his shoulders, strong and warm and comforting even as his world was falling apart. As Arthur's breathing became even more erratic Merlin's hands moved up to his face, fingers tangling in the King's golden hair. "Arthur, breathe." Merlin commanded, his tone somehow soft and demanding at the same time. "Please. Just breathe."

Arthur focused on doing as Merlin said, taking a couple of long, deep breaths as he fought down the terrifying fear and grief freezing his heart. His eyes opened again and he let himself relax against the warm cushions, doing his best to focus only on the feeling of Merlin's fingers in his hair and the steady rise and fall of his own chest.

"Better?" Merlin murmured when Arthur's shaking finally faded and he relaxed back onto the bed.

Arthur shook his head, his face blank with shock. "I can't believe... I'm... why, Merlin?" he choked out, "Why am I all alone?"

"You're not," Merlin offered one of his characteristically over-bright smiles, shifting closer so that he was sitting on the bed beside Arthur's head. "Not even time can keep me from staying with you, Arthur. As long as I live, you'll never be alone."

Arthur felt the ice around his heart splinter and crack as the fierce loyalty and conviction in Merlin's words warmed him, heat rushing suddenly through his veins and filling his chest with a warm glow. "Thank you," he whispered, and these words meant so much more than either of them could ever say. They didn't have to say it for it to be true. It had been, and always would be. Not even time could destroy what they had. Their bond was eternal, timeless, unbreakable.

"You should rest," Merlin murmured, pulling his hands back and rising to his feet, "I'll make some tea. Do you like peppermint?"

"Mmm," Arthur nodded, nestling deep into the warm pillows and soft blankets covering him. Maybe I'll be alright, he thought groggily, The world's changed, but there's one thing that won't. That never will.

Merlin returned after a couple minutes with two mugs of steaming tea, setting one cup down on the table beside the bed and cradling the other between his hands. They sipped the hot drink together in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Glad to be in each other's company again after so long.

"I don't want you to change," Arthur had told Merlin all those years ago, and he hadn't. Everything else had aged and died, civilizations rising and falling as time ravaged and tore them to pieces, but Merlin had stayed the same. Merlin would always be the same. He was the one thing that Arthur could count on, could hold onto as a reminder of that long-ago time they had both loved.

Sunlight seeped through the cabin's windows as the fire flickered low, the crisp, white light illuminating Arthur's face as he shifted the blankets off and pushed himself away from the bed. Moving to the door and gripping the handle, he pulled it open so that a rush of invigoratingly chill winter air washed into the room, prickling against his skin and burning on his tongue. Stepping out into the cool, fresh morning, the young King paused for a moment, listening to the soft sounds of the forest all around him. After a moment he turned back toward the little cabin. Merlin was standing in the doorway, watching him silently with those deep blue eyes, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Merlin," Arthur said, genuinely smiling for the first time in over a thousand years, "It's a new day."