This hasn't yet been beta'd, so please be kind~

For Sierra- xo

The sun shone down on the Lake of Avalon, reflecting the bright rays onto the surrounding forest. Sunshine bounced through the trees and off of the cobblestone walls. Green grass blew in the cool September wind; small weeds near the shore of the lake fluttered in the breeze.

Merlin stretched himself out across the small checkered blanket he had laid onto the field, pinning the corners down with seemingly invisible pins. Arthur knew better than to question what exactly Merlin had used. Recently, magic and modern technology had seemed to flow together as one and he hadn't quite been able to tell the difference.

With a flare of his eyes and a jerk of his hands, as well as a quick whisper in foreign tongue, Merlin pulled the small woven basket closer to the picnic blanket, and opened the lid to reveal the pair's meal: sandwiches and tea. They had skipped lunch, and Merlin's eyes had lit up when Arthur had suggested tea by the lake. The first drink Arthur had tried as a modern man had been a steaming cup of earl grey, and he had been hooked on it ever since.

Arthur grinned at the picnic Merlin had prepared for them. Once a servant, always a servant, a voice recited in the back of his mind. As he lowered himself to the soft blanket, a sharp pain shot through his side. He grimaced and gripped his torso, biting his lip. Almost instantly, Merlin abandoned his unpacking of the basket and all but ran to Arthur's side, pulling his arm around him and lowering him to the ground next to him. Unfortunately, centuries in the lake of Avalon hadn't managed to fully heal the mortal wound Mordred had inflicted upon Arthur all those years ago. A thin pink scar was still evident, just below his ribcage, and for some reason, it still gave him pain. Merlin had insisted he take him to a modern-day hospital, but Arthur had refused adamantly, citing his power as king (as he had become accustomed to doing, using the power as frequent excuse to avoid anything and everything he didn't want to do; for some reason, Merlin never denied him) to avoid the medical wards.

"Eventually, you're going to have to get that checked out." Merlin said quietly, peeling Saran wrap off of a cream cheese sandwich as he spoke.

"Excuse me?" Arthur leaned back onto his elbows casually, grabbing a Thermos from the basket and unscrewing it slowly.

"If that sword wound continues to bother you, I'm taking you to a hospital, king of Camelot or not."

"But I'm king-"

Merlin abandoned the sandwiches, all hope of a casual picnic lost. "Arthur, Camelot is a fairytale. A kid's story; they dream of dragons and sorcerers and magical quests, but no such thing exists, and frankly, it's common knowledge that it never did."

Arthur fuddled with the label on the Thermos. "That doesn't mean I was never king-"

Merlin laughed a hearty, almost throaty laugh. It was reminiscent of the days he had spent as an older man; his age showed in the smaller things he did. "You were king. And a very stubborn one, at that." He grinned, glancing at the clouds. "To be honest, I'm surprised I don't have to dress you anymore."

Arthur threw a Seran-wrapped sandwich at the sorcerer, obviously finding no humor in Merlin's joke. The two men continued their tea in almost silence, breaking the quiet only to ask for more tea or another sandwich, together admiring the lake, or the trees. A few forest animals even emerged, initiating Merlin to point and grin with a giddy joy only a small child could possess.

Finally, when Merlin was on his final sandwich, and Arthur could count the tea leaves still swishing around in the bottom of his last cup, the king finally spoke. "Is Camelot truly forgotten?"

Merlin chuckled. "Far from it. It's a household name, of sorts. People wouldn't look at you funny if you mentioned it."

Arthur didn't laugh with him, choosing instead to ball up the sandwich wrap and throw it into the basket. "I miss Camelot.''

"Me too."

"Can we go back now?"

"Sure."