"Dear dollophead,
Everything in this world has changed so much since you've been gone. Everything except for me. Because that's what you would have wanted.
~M."
However, that's not as simple. Not as easy.
The light in his eyes had gone out a while ago.
He scurried across the square, avoiding as many people as possible. His smell sent those around him splitting like the Red Sea, holding their breath until he passed.
Long haired, aged, and cranky, he had a permanent snark on his face. It was as if in his old age, he woke one morning with an ache in his back and his face had never managed to ease back into something more… normal. Only pain filled and bitter.
A young baker noticed him walking by and per usual, rushed out to meet him with a sample of bread. She stopped short, watching as two boys ran out in front of him from the nearby alleyway. They were playing with sticks.
The man stopped to watch as well, a smile forming on his face at their pretend play.
She had never seen him smile before. Never seen the bitterness fade. He looked younger for a split second. Bright eyes. Short, brown hair. A handsome, young man.
The boys stopped, apologizing once they realized they had blocked his way. The one in the front grinned like a young charmer, untrimmed hair framing his face. Behind him stood the second boy, who took a hold of the back of his friend's shirt and tugged him out of the way.
"Uh, mister? Would you like bread?" She offered the sample on a stretched out tray.
"No, thanks," his voice, while gravelly, sounded grateful. "I'm sure these young knights here would though."
She laughed, setting the tray on a stool by the corner of the shop. The boys took their share, hurriedly stuffing their mouths.
The man tipped his head to her and patted one of the boy's heads before continuing on his way.
"Gwen!" He stopped, turning to watch as she dashed back to the front door. "Your dad was on the phone! He said he needed you at the auto shop!"
Quickly, Gwen slipped off the apron, handing it back to the baker as she took her bag.
"I can-"
"Don't worry about it." The baker shooed her off.
Merlin watched as she went, smiling. He hadn't approached her first, in fact, he had avoided her, unaware of exactly who stood in front of him. But, it didn't matter. She gravitated toward him like she knew him since birth. A friend.
Kilgharrah had reassured him before his passing that some friendships really do transcend lifetimes.
How right he could be at times.
If Gwen was here, just entering high school and the knights were already growing up fast, only several years behind her, playing with, unsurprisingly, make-shift swords, then Arthur couldn't be too far behind.
Back at home, Merlin lifted his head from the sink. His short hair had returned, as did his youth. His didn't look as much of a boy anymore. The years had put a maturity to him, but it couldn't stop the shine his eyes. Or the grin that just wouldn't fade.