A.N. I got this idea after reading several one shots set after the last episode, and like any other fan, I decided to write my own post-series-Arthur-is-back-from-the-grave-thing.

Now, I am a huge fan of the show and the legend, trust me, I've even read the 1400's version by Sir Thomas Malroy, and I know that the idea is SO different from the legend. But who else can say they didn't want something like this to happen? Anyway, this is my version.


Another Twist of Fate

Chapter 1: Am I Really THAT Old?


It started as any other day in the year of our Lord AD 2012, but instead of being the aged old man on a lonely, leisurely walk, I was choosing to appear as my own grandson out for an early morning drive. The people here never seemed to question why the two of us never appeared in the same place, but chronic arthritis and poor eyesight did have a tendency to get to a person over time, even one as old as I.

I'd not aged as time had gone by, instead I'd used the ageing spell, at which I had long since become proficient, to alter my appearance. People did tend to offer more sympathy to a dodgery old man, but as I said, youth does have many advantages. One; it makes it easier to drive a car, two; no aching bones, and three; much better eyesight. Of course there were many more, but those were the main reasons which had affected me over the years.

At first...all those centuries ago, to find that I'd not aged...not at all...not since that day...was a cruel twist of fate...one of its many cruel twists. I'd had to watch as my trusted mentor Gaius, beautiful and kind Gwen, brave Leon, strong Perceval, and even my own beloved mother had succumbed to the passing of time, and it had broken my heart each and every time. You'd think it would get easier over time.

I'd seen and lived through war after war, famine after famine, plague after plague, hundreds of natural disasters and numerous 'religious conflicts', but nothing struck me as more cruel than watching the people I loved grow old and die, while I was powerless to stop it.

I was powerless in the face of time when it came to others, I couldn't stop death for them, but for me it seemed; death would never come. Not yesterday, not today, would it come tomorrow? Highly unlikely, it hadn't come for a thousand years, what now could make it come for me?

I drove around the narrow, winding roads until I came to the old hill overlooking the never changing tower of Avalon, still lying in the middle of the lake. Even after all these years, all the centuries of loneliness, it still brought tears to my eyes to remember. This place was a grave, and yet I'd found it hard to leave, every time I did I always returned, without fail, every time I came back.

Why? Why did I return to a place that only brought me pain?

...Because of the vain hope that someday, I wouldn't be alone...Yes...even old men can hope. Even old men who don't age still have dreams, and hopes, and tears to be shed.

I parked the car and stood in the sunlight as the wind picked up, tossing the long edges of my black coat in all directions.

It would have been unthinkable for me, a servant in my time to possess a mode of transport, or even more than one, maybe two sets of clothes. And here I was now; a moderately wealthy man with a car, a full wardrobe and a well stocked kitchen, with leisure time, and even spare money.

Living for over a thousand years did tend to aid in the accumulation of wealth, and I was far from the penniless farm boy I once was. I'd had over a hundred occupations; I'd been sorcerer, artist, physician and healer, scholar and philosopher, teacher, historian, scientist, inventor, farmer, philanthropist, servant in several decades to numerous royal families...the list went on. But one thing I was still...sorcerer...even when magic had begun to fade away, sorcerer I remained. It was as strong as it had been back then, it was hardly used as it had been, but still, it remained.

But, if the gods saw fit to keep it this way then who was I, a mere servant of their will, to complain? On the brighter side, it made the housework easier.

As the old man, and my 'grandson' in this town I was always kindly and outspoken, I gave lectures on history of times long past, I wrote books both of fiction and of reality, I performed 'tricks' on festive occasions. But at times, in any persona, what the Victorians had liked to call a 'pensive bout' came over me, and I was unreachable. Today it would be called depression...I called it remembrance, remembrance of what once was, and which would never be again.

My last true companion of those times, the young and much conflicted Aithusa, had passed many years ago to join Kilgharrah and Arthur in Avalon, leaving me alone. Over time I had formed many attachment to people, some servants and some royalty, but none the same as...they..had been. It was difficult...so difficult not to make new friends, I had many in this time still. Even after I vowed never to do so again, I always failed. People...human beings were so difficult for me to hate, to ignore and shun, I still hadn't learned how to ignore them.

I had been Merlin Ambrosius, Myrddin Emrys, Myrddin Wyllt, Merlin Caledonensis, Merlinus, and countless others. But in these days where those were forgiven names, I was simply William, in memory of my old, dear friend. The thought had occurred to use Arthur's name, but it was one which I was unworthy to bear; I had failed him all those years ago, I was not fit to even wear his name.

Yes, it was my greatest failure. Others hadn't seen it as such. After all, who could change fate? Who could change what had been written for centuries? I had tried...and I had failed, every time I had tried, I had failed. I had failed with Morgana the Witch. I had failed with Mordred the Murderer. And more importantly...I had failed with Arthur the Once and Future King.

And there he lies still, beyond the Lake of Avalon. Like me, it had not changed. Like me it hadn't seen the ravages of time. Like me...it seemed...it would be there forever, haunting me, taunting me...my greatest failure.

How long I stood atop the hill I wasn't sure, but when a bright flash of lightning drew my attention I looked up; the heavens were once again at war. Before the first rains fell I sat back in my car where I continued my contemplations for several minutes, silently listening as each and every drop fell around me until I was interrupted by moving shadows that skimmed along the grass...Shadows that were unnatural in the flashing light of the storm.

I felt it must have been my imagination, because I hadn't felt shadows move around me like this for several hundred years. Shadows were now just that; mere shadows, back then shadows were nightmares and monsters of death. People now had no idea how easy their lives were, how ignorant they were to the ways of the world. They were frightened little children in the dark with delusions of grandeur. But they were children I still cared about.

These shadows meant trouble; they put me on edge, and it took a lot to do that to me now.

I climbed outside once more and stood tall in the rain as the dark shadows continued to glide. "Who's there?" I demanded of the darkness, but no answer came. I used my 'sight' to see through the shadows and saw...I saw...a light...a golden light. A familiar gold light...it was bright...confident...it was beautiful.

"Show yourself," I told it. I had not seen anything like this for years, but I was far from rusty when it came to magic. As my father had once told me I was magic itself, magic would never truly die...perhaps that was why I was still here.

"...Eemmmrrryysssssss..." the wind seemed to whisper...Emrys...a foreign word of power and magic...a name I'd not heard in so long. Was I really THAT old?

"I am Emrys, who are you?" I asked it with confidence, but again I received no answer. Time was I could frighten an army in obeying my will without a word...was I really THAT old?

The shadows grew quickly now, without warning and the ground was struck with lightning. I quickly cast a simple shield spell around me as I waited until the fog cleared, and when it did, the greatest shock of this...no...of the last few centuries made me stare in complete and utter speechlessness. I, Merlin Emrys, was at a loss for words...and for an explanation...


A.N. Whaaa...I know. Terribly predictable and very little happens, but let me know what you think anyway.

Oh, and of course, I don't own Merlin!