To Eternity and Beyond
Merlin knew he couldn't just come back to Camelot – every corner, every street, every step in every stairs would try to suffocate him. They were all filled with memories of the time he and Arthur had been together.
Their destinies had been foretold, but could they have known what it really meant? Did those prophets and seers knew that they'd be bonded the way they were? Or did they only see the adventures, not the truth inside their hearts? Could them – or anyone, really – ever understand what it was like to be Arthur and Merlin?
He didn't think so – himself wouldn't be able to explain it to others.
They had been united in ways that were far beyond the usual, and they had known that. Those last few days, they had shown Merlin the truth: he had long suffered for being alone, but he had never truly been alone, for Arthur was there. The same way he silently stood by the king's side, Arthur stood by him in less obvious ways, but still equally true, and it had shone in every word, every gesture, and every look.
How many people could say the same?
The deep pain that threatened to drown him was just the proof of how lucky he had been – how lucky they both were.
He had been loved, loved as few people would ever be. Not as a lover, or as a friend, not as a child or as a parent, not as a figure or as a person; but all of those things, meshed together in one unexplainable feeling that was so powerful that shaped the world around them.
And, to have it all once again, he'd wait without complaints for it didn't matter how long it would take: it would be worth it.
