Basically a one shot I just split up to add a bit of suspense (not sure why). Swearing and a few blood mentions.

Hopefully you've watched the deleted scene of Arthur giving Merlin the Sigil, or this may be awkward.

I'll be honest, this doesn't have much of a backbone, I just felt the need to try and get back writing and this little bunny was running around a bit, so here we are.
No beta so any mistakes my own, I don't own Merlin.


Sounds are loud when you've been in Avalon for over a thousand years. They rush into your mind and overtake you, becoming the only thing you can focus on with no reprieve. The hammering of the rain on the metal around him throbbed his ears and head, the pain diminishing every other feeling at first. Though it hurt, the noise lighting flashes behind his closed eyelids, it reminded him of home, of the blacksmith's hammer beating down on his latest work, or the storms that encompassed Camelot regularly.

After a few moments, the pain receded, and instead there was a smell he didn't recognise. At first it was like the hot metal of a furnace, taking his mind once again back to the blacksmith's workshop, but there was something else, something he couldn't place. It felt rotten, misplaced and it took over the air, no longer unclean as he was so used to.

The ground under his face and hands wasn't very surprising, it was hard, cold and dusty, like any in the halls of Camelot. It helped calm him, the cool touch like a balm, steadying his nervous heart.

He had been in Avalon.

He had been dead.

Now he was somewhere different, somewhere that scared him before he even opened his eyes. It didn't feel right and there were presences he hadn't felt before.

Slowly opening his eyes, he turned, bodies were scattered all around him, around the strange large plain building he was laying in. At first glance it was an odd looking barn, with large windows, a metal ceiling and white walls on all sides, but there were other strange objects that didn't fit, not to mention there was no straw, dung or even horses to confirm the theory. His eyes then fell once again on the bodies, his clearer mind now registering them for what- or who- they truly were. Guinevere. Leon. Gwaine. In fact, all of his closest knights. Gaius and...Morgana!

"Merlin!" He knew not why but his first thought was of his manservant, his friend. Why was he not there with them? He had been waiting the last time Arthur's soul journeyed across the void to lay eyes on his kingdom, to watch over what he had left behind. His friend had looked tired, and sad. He never had returned to the citadel, nor to his home of Ealdor. The last time he asked about his friend had been almost 100 years ago, the quick reply had been "He still waits. Forever waiting."

"Arthur?" The King's upper body swung round to face the voice, it was gravelly and

deep, but over the years he had lost recognition of voices and their owners. Merlin. His mind rang out. But the face didn't fit, instead he turned to find Leon, sitting up and staring in anxious wonder at his friend and King.

"He isn't here." Was all he said, as the rest of Camelot awoke. They froze in their new situation, as they looked around and realised this was not Camelot, that they were out of place and out of time. "He isn't here. After all these years." He said again.

No-one spoke. They didn't know the destiny that had been foretold, even Arthur did not know it in excess, but he had watched Merlin grieve, had watched him punish himself for his 'failures'. Arthur had promised his friend he would come back, he would be reunited soon, whether the young man could hear him or not he had screamed they would find each other.

How was he meant to find Merlin, knowing nothing of the world he now found himself?