A/N: Another Merthur fic because they're my OTP and I'm still crying over them. You may or may not choke on the amount of fluff in this story, and please be aware that this contains minor spoilers for the Merlin finale. This is another ArthurReturns!fic, I hope you guys enjoy it.

Contains slash of the Merthur variety. I don't own Merlin.

Kindly review or Merlin will turn you into a narwhale.

Tale as Old as Time

"Long live the walls we crashed through,

How the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

I was screaming long live all the magic we made,

And bring on all the pretenders;

I'm not afraid

Singing long live all the mountains we moved,

I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you

I was screaming long live that look on your face,

And bring on all the pretenders;

One day, we will be remembered."

-Taylor Swift

Mary-Jane shook her head disapprovingly at her patient from where she stood behind a small reception desk, regarding him nonchalantly as he continued to kneel in front of the small pond and fountain, tired sapphire eyes endlessly following the rivulets of water swirling about in the miniature pool. Koi fish painted in shades of orange and cream circled the tiny pond, adding splashes of colour to the seemingly clear and liquid canvas of water as a young, beautiful angel girl emptied her stone basin to join the small current.

Mary-Jane sighed, distractedly tying her sleek, black hair into a messy bun. Briefly she wondered if her patient would soon just fade away, like the colour in a vibrant piece of fabric worn and washed one too many times. He was like a flower withering away and dying as time passed slowly to nothing. He reminded her of a ghost.

Everyday he would kneel in front of that pond in the private yard, gazing into its contents with that same vacant expression marring his handsome face. Sometimes he talked to the fish, or himself (she couldn't tell), or maybe just to no one at all. Sometimes he didn't speak a word; he'd just sit there in silence. But when he did speak, he spoke of imaginary ideas and fictional beings all in a fabled kingdom called Camelot. Magic and chivalry, and other such unsettling, and very nonsensical things. It was the prime reason he was there in the first place. The weather was of no concern either, whether it be rain or shine, he was out there, sitting solemnly in front of that pond. Lucky for him it was a lovely day that day. The sun's rays were soft and warm, and the cherry blossom trees in the yard swayed gently in the light summer breeze, delicate pink petals dancing in the air before falling gently to the ground. Mary-Jane wished she could enjoy the nice day, maybe sit on one of the few wooden benches and curl up with a good novel, but alas she had a job to do, and that included not disturbing her patient's ritual of staring at the pond, or whatever the hell it was he was doing.

Arthur Pendragon had turned up at the institute a couple of years ago spouting ridiculous stories of sorcery and Camelot. He had been disturbing the peace in the town with his desperate pleas to aid him in finding 'his manservant Merlin', believing himself to be king of this conjured-up land. It was almost believable, as he had turned up in wet chainmail and armour, a well-worn red cape adorning the back marked with a golden yellow dragon. Perhaps he had come from a comic convention. A concerned policeman had taken him there, and although he had fought it for the first few weeks, he had been at the place ever since.

Mary-Jane automatically flipped open her patient's journal and wrote down Arthur's activities for that day, which was relatively simple since his routine never changed. She chewed the end of her ballpoint pen a bit anxiously, once again worrying about the poor young man only several feet away from her that hadn't moved an inch since she had last glanced at him.

Arthur was so… strange. Different. Of course she didn't buy his story of being the Once and Future King, no, that would be absurd. But there were so many things about the erratic, blonde young man that just didn't quite add up.

He didn't have any blood ties, or even records for that matter, so she had to assume that he was an orphan. But an orphan would still have records of their biological parents. Arthur had nothing, no one. And then there was also the way he talked, as if he were from another time period, one long ago. The heavy British accent wasn't alarming, but there was something ancient about his pronunciation, as if he were speaking in a different tongue. But what threw her off the most was his limited knowledge of the modern world.

Mary-Jane shook her head, closing her slender, almond-shaped eyes for a moment and rubbed her temples, briefly soothing the headache that was forming from the ridiculousness of it all. She believed that he must have had an accident, possibly a fall from a high cliff that caused him to hit his head, resulting in confusion and severe brain damage. Or maybe it was just a simple mental illness. Those were the only logical explanations she could come up with, so it had to be one or the other. It was impossible for Arthur's stories to be true; it just wasn't sane.

She jumped a little when the front-screen opened and an old man with a long white beard, dressed in dark blue stumbled in. He adjusted the tattered brown handbag crossing his torso, and took a moment to scrutinize the place, a perplexed expression forming in the deep wrinkles of his delicate skin. This was perfectly ordinary as the place was built in the image of an old Japanese home with bamboo wood and painted-paper screens, so it was very different compared to the other buildings in the town and a hard place to miss in 21st century England. Mary-Jane was Japanese herself, and had helped design the place like that in the hopes that it would help her patients relax and feel more at ease. It wasn't an asylum, but more a laid-back mental institute for troubled people such as Arthur. She wanted the place to feel friendly and cozy for her patients and give off a good vibe to outsiders, hoping to change society's obscure views on those inflicted with mental illnesses.

"Hello sir, how can I help you today?" Mary-Jane asked the elderly man politely as he finally approached the desk, using a gnarled wooden staff to help him walk. She smoothed down her orange uniform and gave him a gentle smile.

"I heard there is a young man named Arthur Pendragon here. May I see him?" The old man asked, his voice low and gravelly. Mary-Jane raised her thin black eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes, yes of course, he's just out back," she responded a little uncertainly. "Are you a relative of Arthur's?"

"An old friend," the elder corrected her with a mischievous smile, a strange glint in his eyes. Mary-Jane quickly shook out of her shocked stupor, ushering him to the back where the screen was already open, revealing the lovely yard and the young man sitting in front of the pond. Arthur had had very few visitors in the past, mostly just kind strangers stopping in to try to cheer up the patients residing in the home. This elder was the first to ask for him specifically. Who exactly was this man? But before she could ask, he spoke.

"Would you mind if we had some privacy?" the old man asked softly.

"No, not at all! But as a safety precaution, I must leave the screen open," Mary-Jane informed the man, a little taken aback at his request, who nodded and smiled at her. His crystal blue eyes crinkled at the corners, making him look younger.

"That's fine, thank you," he told her sincerely before making his way towards Arthur, who appeared oblivious to the fact that he was no longer alone.

Mary-Jane wandered back to the reception desk a little flustered, glad that she was still close enough to hear the pair speak. She didn't mean to intrude or eavesdrop on them, but it was her job to look out for her patient and she couldn't deny the curiosity bubbling up in her chest as to who this mystery man was. She leaned on her hand, watching the exchange closely.

The old man came to a stop beside Arthur, still slightly behind him. Arthur didn't even flinch, or move, for that matter at the sound of rustling grass alerting him that he had company. He just kept his slightly dull, once-bright blue eyes trained on the moving water, a tiny droplet of the liquid landing just beneath the angel girl's crudely carved eye from a light splash from one of the fish's tails. It rolled slowly down her clean, stone face, as if she was crying.

"I'm not crazy," Arthur said quietly without even glancing at the stranger next to him, his voice revealing little emotion as if he had repeated this line over a thousand times. "I know who I am, and where I came from, but no one believes me."

"Try me," the older man said encouragingly, resting heavily against his twisted staff. The look in his eyes was fond.

"I am the Once and Future King, and it is my destiny to unite the kingdoms of Albion. I died as the king of Camelot in the arms of my manservant, the bravest man I have ever known, my most loyal and only friend. He was taking me to Avalon to be healed, but it was too late. I arose from the waters of Avalon a few years ago, eager to be reunited with him. His name is Merlin." Arthur's voice turned soft, an edge of sorrow and affection laced in that final word, that name. Mary-Jane sighed wistfully, wondering if Arthur would scare this stranger away with his ramblings. She had heard these stories one too many times in his monologues in front of the pond.

"Merlin?" the elder asked curiously, an emotion that Mary-Jane couldn't identify flickering through his cerulean eyes.

"Yes, according to the Druids he has waited fifteen hundred years for me. Before I died, he confessed that he was a sorcerer which is why he still walks the land. But I haven't found him yet.

You probably think I'm mad." Arthur finished emotionlessly.

Mary-Jane waited patiently for the man's reaction to see if he would book it out of there, try to tell Arthur that he 'understood' in that false demeaning voice used so often with children, or if maybe he was just as insane and would agree to Arthur's words with enthusiasm. She raised an eyebrow sceptically as the old man let out a low chuckle. Okay, definitely insane.

"No, not at all," he responded kindly, his lips stretching into a pleased grin. And what happened next was something that Mary-Jane would never forget.

Slowly the air around the old man began to shimmer and his body started to change, the edges of his figure blurring into the scenery around him. He morphed silently into a young man about Arthur's age, the ancient staff he had been gripping previously falling quietly to the ground. He had a mop of dark hair and the same crystal blue eyes, still just as wise but a little brighter, with pale alabaster skin and high, sharply-defined cheekbones. His ears were a little big, sticking out obscenely from his night-brown hair, and he wore a basic black t-shirt with a simple design, and dark jeans.

Mary-Jane blinked, unable to process what she had just seen. Was this really happening?

The old man-turned young man gently took Arthur's hand and pulled him up from his kneeling position in the grass, Arthur still staring at that damn pond, completely oblivious to the magical transformation that had just taken place. They were approximately the same height. The stranger squeezed Arthur's hand lightly, and an emotional but content smile lit up his face before he spoke, as if a great secret was about to be revealed.

"I believe you," the young man finished softly and sincerely, his voice younger and smoother but still relatively deep, like honey.

Arthur whipped around in less than a second upon hearing his voice, tears brimming in his suddenly hopeful oceanic eyes.

"Merlin?" he whispered in wonder, nearly causing Mary-Jane to fall over her desk. She did manage to spit out the sip of coffee she had been about to swallow though.

"It's me, Arthur," Merlin murmured back in confirmation, tears rolling down his cheeks to match Arthur's. Arthur tentatively reached out a trembling hand, placing it cautiously against Merlin's cheek. Merlin leaned into the touch, eyes briefly closing in overwhelming peace as Arthur began to stroke the familiar skin reverently.

"Oh my God, Merlin-" Arthur choked out, his face crumpling as a sob wracked through his body, throwing his arms around Merlin who hugged him back just as fiercely. They embraced tearfully for a long moment, holding each other as tightly as possible with seemingly no intention of letting go ever again. Hands roamed over arms, shoulders, necks, waists, hair… as if making sure that this wasn't some cruel hallucination, but real. Their faces were buried in each other's necks, breathing in their familiar scents, finally feeling whole for the first time in fifteen-hundred years.

They were two sides of the same coin joined together once more. Two soulmates reunited after lifetimes of pain and separation and longing in a world where they could finally love each other unconditionally and in peace. The King and his Lionheart back where they belonged; at each other's sides.

Arthur eventually pulled back, opting instead to press his forehead against Merlin's intimately, one hand securely gripping his waist and the other fisted in Merlin's dark hair, continuously running his fingers through the soft strands that flooded through them like a waterfall. Their smiles widened impossibly, Merlin's long, slender hands cradling Arthur's face as their noses bumped in their proximity.

"I found you," Merlin whispered softly, thumb caressing Arthur's structured cheek with loving strokes. Arthur closed his eyes, damp blonde eyelashes fluttering as the tears finally began to slow, his smile blinding as the sun.

"Yeah," he breathed back.

"It's been so long, I couldn't- I just- I was so alone-" Merlin's voice faded into an inaudible choke, Arthur instinctively pulling Merlin closer and gently tracing soothing circles on Merlin's cheek. The warlock bit his lip in a shudder, struggling to keep the sorrow he had felt since Arthur's death at bay.

"Shh, its okay Merlin, I'm here now," Arthur reminded him gently, tenderly wiping away a stray tear that had escaped from one of Merlin's shimmering cerulean eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere without you, ever again," he promised solemnly.

"Sentimental prat," Merlin chuckled, but his tone was practically bursting with affection and love for his king and old friend. Arthur let out a joyful laugh, affectionately nuzzling Merlin with his nose.

"Incompetent clotpole," he shot back softly, causing Merlin to roll his eyes and the both of them to briefly laugh light-heartedly. Their gazes met as they quietened, exuberant grins melting into soft, passionate smiles as they stared forever and back into sparkling seas of sapphire and ice. The two men were unashamedly lost in each other, eyes sinking closed as their noses bumped before their lips met in unadulterated bliss, finally able to taste each other and fulfill the desire in their unwavering love which they were denied in their lives so long ago.

Their passion was finally set free like a flock of doves confined to a stiff, restricting cage being set loose to soar in the endless, open sky. Their romance no longer needing to be hidden, able to roam the seamless edges of the earth and bound through the fresh air of a new day as a wild stallion gallops through a wide, green pasture. Their love able to burn as brightly as a fire blazing heatedly in the dark without having to keep the hot coals of their feelings at a steady temperature to avoid suspicion and punishment in a strict kingdom under an iron-fisted rule.

Merlin and Arthur could finally be together, and that fact alone was enough to make them feel infinite.

As the pair kissed chastely but passionately, lips moving against lips in a slow but highly intimate dance, tongues brushing shyly and wordless claims of "I love you" in every little touch, the wind picked up and howled violently. It swirled around the entwined couple, cherry blossom petals and stray leaves trapped in what looked like a gust of wind peppered with sparkling gold- a soft vortex of magic.

Mary-Jane gazed in awe as the pair's appearance changed as the wind flew sharply past them. Arthur was dressed in silver chainmail and armour, that long, red cape fluttering around him creating the illusion of the gold dragon emblazoned on the back flying. Merlin was dressed in a loose blue medieval-style shirt, wrapped in a ratty brown jacket and a bright red neckerchief that adorned his neck. The magic and petals swirled upwards, making it look like they were standing on the edge of the world. Mary-Jane raised a hand to her face in disbelief and wonder, shocked to find her cheeks stained with tears.

The wind finally died down slightly, the young men separating from each other and joining hands. Merlin knocked his forehead against Arthur's again, causing the blonde to sigh and an expression of immense happiness and peace to wash over his features, Mary-Jane's heart clenching at the sight of him so vulnerable.

"Let's go home," Merlin murmured, pecking Arthur adorably on the nose igniting a cute, lopsided grin on the Once and Future King's face. The magical wind whirled around them again, swooping upwards and then that was it; they were gone. The only trace left behind was Merlin's old, gnarled staff.

Mary-Jane stared up at the pale blue sky, tears rolling down her cheeks at the overwhelming realization blossoming in her heart.

What she had just witnessed was one of the most precious and rare things that one could ever see in the world. Two soulmates that had been lost to each other for fifteen centuries, a king of a great kingdom and his loyal manservant and sorcerer, reunite. She would never forget that day and how magically beautiful it was when it happened.

It was enchanting.

"Mary-Jane?" a female voice called from inside, causing Mary-Jane to frantically wipe her face and compose herself before turning around with a startled smile.

"What is it?" she replied, making her way back inside to find her co-worker, Veronica, standing at the reception's desk with a clipboard.

"I have the list of stats on all of our patients for you," Veronica said brightly, handing Mary-Jane the clipboard. She scanned it quickly, her delicate eyebrows knitting in confusion.

"Why isn't Arthur's name on here?" Mary-Jane asked perplexedly, eyes roaming over the sheet again to make sure she hadn't missed it. Veronica raised a blonde eyebrow.

"Who's Arthur?"

"Our patient, Arthur Pendragon!" Mary-Jane said exasperatedly, but Veronica appeared unconvinced. She was gazing at Mary-Jane sceptically, as if she had spontaneously grown three heads.

"The one who always sits in the yard, in front of the pond?"

"There's never been an Arthur here, hun," Veronica responded slowly, shaking her head slightly setting a strand of pale blonde hair free from the barrel roll holding her bangs.

"What? But I have his notebook right here!" Mary-Jane waved the book in Veronica's face, just barely skirting the edge of hysterical. She flipped open the book anxiously. "See, right here. I just made this entry for him today and-"

She trailed off, dark eyes locked on the empty page in front of her. She flipped another page, and then another and another. They were all blank.

"But this doesn't make any sense! His book was almost completely filled a few moments ago, I swear, what…" Mary-Jane looked devastatingly lost. Veronica patted her back sympathetically, peering at her co-worker and friend in concern.

"Girl, you've been working way too hard, you should take the day off, okay?" Veronica offered kindly, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. "Just lay off the coffee, alright?"

Mary-Jane spluttered a little, but then decided that that was probably a good idea. A girl could only take so much in one day. She smiled at Veronica as she disappeared to help another patient, the smile most likely looking more like a grimace.

Mary-Jane wandered back to the yard, taking slow, hesitant steps. Lying in the grass a few feet away from her was Merlin's wooden staff. She gazed intently at it for a moment, before tentatively picking it up. The wood was much smoother than it appeared, and there seemed to be nothing extraordinary or supernatural about it. A small, luminous blue butterfly landed on the tip of the staff, igniting a tiny smile from Mary-Jane. She watched it for a little while, gently flapping its wings, until something on the staff caught her attention. She pulled the gnarled wood closer, seeing that there was something scrawled on the side, etched neatly into the staff. Whoever did it was an expert, as the words were evenly cut and in an elegant scripted writing. Mary-Jane squinted her eyes a smidge to make out the words.

And then she gasped.

Thank you for taking care of him. –M

Mary-Jane ran her finger over the smooth words, a few tears brimming in her eyes. The butterfly finally abandoned the long wood, fluttering gracefully around her. Shimmering golden specks drifted down from its aquatic blue wings, sprinkling Mary-Jane with a special warmth that tingled all the way down to her dainty feet. Magic.

She grinned openly now, allowing the tiny butterfly to perch on her finger as the tears rolling down her face turned to tears of wonder and joy. It was truly amazing that she got to be a part of something so incredible as the reuniting of King Arthur and his manservant and sorcerer Merlin. She watched nostalgically as the butterfly flew up into the sky, her response a mere whisper in the wind. But she knew that they heard her.

"You're very welcome."

.

.

.

The End.