Sorry I haven't updated anything in forever, I guess I've just lost a lot of interest and faith in my other stories. Plus the fact that a while ago my entire writings folder (everything I've ever written) was erased from my computer. I kinda took it as a sign that I should try other things. So here you go, MERLIN!

Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN. Damn.

Moment of Reconnection

Sometimes it's hard to imagine centuries upon centuries. The flow of time, except it's not a flow. It's a ripple caused by dropping a grain of sand into a calm and silent lake. It hesitates before hitting the water, as if deciding if this is the best course of action. But it's too late because it plummets, breaking through the barrier of air and water and sinks beneath the surface. It made its choice.

This is how Merlin feels as he walks silently down the slightly populated street. It's the third city he's been to in as many days. Paris, Barcelona, Rome, Hong Kong, New York, he's seen them all so many times. There's a lot of time to fill when you've lived over a thousand years. He's a wanderer now, he's seen empires rise under lesser kings than his and fall to tyrants worse than Uther. There are no more dragons to speak of wisdom and coins and destiny anymore. There are no more unicorns, no more magic creatures in the world anymore. Just him. Just Merlin. The others all moved onto Avalon. They could be with him while Merlin was left in the awakened world wondering why not me?

Merlin wonders absently for the millionth time as he walks past yet another person he'll never know what If he had passed on with the others. What if this world didn't need him there to prepare them? What if he had refused this cursed responsibility? He couldn't have, destiny wouldn't have let him. The world needs to remember them, remember what they accomplished. That was Merlin's duty.

A breeze sent a chill down his spine and Merlin withdrew his mind from his ever gloomy thoughts. He spent too much time on them as it was and he needed to find the bookstore. Merlin had heard about it on the internet. Supposedly it was the pinnacle of information on medieval literature and history. Apparently a whole room was dedicated to the great city of Camelot and her illustrious citizens. All the latest finds and research could be found there and Merlin wished to see how much further the world had strayed from the truth.

Merlin had to admit that they did get some of the story right, but they didn't mention Gaius, great mentor and friend. A man who was logical and exact, who expected absolute perfection from you if you could provide it but was gentle and caring. They didn't mention Aulfric and Sophia who plotted to kill his prince and had nearly succeeded. The stories didn't talk about the Great Dragon, a creature so wise and so fond of riddles that half the time you couldn't understand what it was saying. The stories didn't talk about the great bonds of friendship or the incredible pain that Merlin felt after all his friends were dead and gone.

At the corner he turned, following his feet. The store was supposed to be on Gala Ave. but the route had changed a little since Merlin had last been here over fifty years ago. He didn't mind wandering a bit while searching. The streets Merlin had been walking along had slowly emptied until it was him and only the sounds of distant civilization. Lights flickered in windows along the street and somewhere a violin sang a song of sorrow that ached into a piano's comforting tones. It was a funeral dirge calling across the ages, a song of such loss as to break the heart with a single note. Merlin's heart had broke a long time ago, though, so it only made him smile sadly and walk on.

When Merlin finally stepped onto the end of Gala Ave. over an hour later he stopped for a moment. He steeled himself against the pain he knew was imminent. It was like this every time. He walked in and there were a thousand reminders, a million whispered memories. His steps were world weary and slow as he set off again. Merlin's head was bent in sorrow and he was almost surprised no one stopped him, but the world had changed. No one cared about his fellow man anymore. It was a cold world Merlin lived in now, and how he longed so hard to rest in the Summer Country where it was warm and alive. Merlin pushed the longing from his mind when he finally reached the store. There were books in the window and on an easel in the center a print of the one painting that always hit too close to home.

The Death of Arthur.

Images flashed past his eyes and words struck his ears on a level too deep to ignore.

Tree.

Summer heat on the back of his neck.

"Merlin, what are you doing?"

Red silk,

Gold,

Lake, smooth and glassy,

Clouds turning overhead into a thunderstorm,

Flash of light off a sword.

"Excalibur. That's what I'll call it."

Boat cutting through the waves,

Blood.

"You couldn't have stopped it."

Drums beating in his head,

Skin, smooth and firm like a peach under his fingers,

Blueberries,

Fanfare,

Smile as arrogant and loving as the man wearing it,

Blinding light.

"You know I love you, right?"

Merlin's hands threw themselves out as he pitched forward. He slammed into a wall and gasped for breath. He had suppressed them for so long, why did the memories have to make an appearance when he was just starting to go numb? He tried to shove them away, why be masochistic and keep them out in the open? Merlin didn't hear the footsteps coming up on him, but he did hear the clear voice ask him "Are you alright?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. Well, he thought bitterly, I have gone well and truly mad. Can't separate them anymore. Merlin's eyes flew open when two strong hands grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. Suddenly his heart stopped and all Merlin could see was blue.

"Are you alright?" the man said more insistently. He was real, he was there. Gold hair connected to slightly tanned skin that held bluer than god eyes. It wasn't exactly the same. His hair was longer now, as modern as his clothes. It was definitely him, though. It was definitely him.

"Arthur," Merlin breathed as he reached hesitantly forward. The man who was yet wasn't his king frowned for a moment, but stiffened as the bond so long unused opened again and memories of a time long ago flew back into his mind. Arthur closed his eyes in confusion, trying to sort out all that was new yet older than time.

Merlin's hand had paused a moment when Arthur's eyes had shut. He lifted his hand now, though. He was determined to feel something he hadn't felt in over a thousand years. His fingers connected gently with Arthur's cheek. Blue eyes flashed open as everything fell back into place. Memories of a castle, laughter, and moonlit nights hovered between their eyes as a feeling neither had felt in so long settled back into their hearts. Feelings of being whole.

"I finally found you, Merlin," the newly awakened king whispered as he leaned forward. His mouth connected lightly with the carefree and joyful warlock's too long untouched lips.

--fin--