I don't own Merlin.
"As we enter year nine of the civil war ravaging Great Britain, many people fear this is just the beginning. As increasingly unstable conditions make it more difficult to trade with external countries, food supplies continue to run low, causing increased violence as all five sides make raids into rival camps in search of rations. Starting last week, another army instated a conscription policy in an effort to bolster troops, bringing the total of conscripting factions up to three. With tensions on the rise and no end in sight, this is truly our darkest hour"
Merlin rustled through the books and papers on his desk, flicking a gaze at the radio, eyes glowing, to turn it off. Muttering, he shoved papers and books into the bag on his stool.
"You hear that, old friend? Albion's darkest hour. I knew it, I've seen the signs... Five sides, nine years. Even they see it now, he's coming back," he glanced at the dragon's skull in the dawn light outside his window before bending over his desk to double check the scrawled notes there.
Running his gnarled finger in a wavering line down the page, he slowly straightened up as best he could and moved over to the shallow stone basin in the center of his workroom. Muttering an incantation, he passed his hand over the cloudy liquid until it slowly began to clear, revealing an image in its depths. Merlin smiled a little as the Lake of Avalon appeared. The setting sun glinted off surface and waves slowly lapped the shore. The grin on Merlin's face grew as the sun caught a blade and forearm protruding from the water's surface.
"Tonight, old friend. He returns tonight."
Snatching the bag off the stool, Merlin left his cabin, his staff moving in quick, firm strokes. It took him the all day to make what should have been the short walk to the Lake of Avalon. He kept to the woods and avoided the groups of soldiers littering the area. He distracted them with magic whenever they got too the close, but he still had to fight his way through the underbrush, moving as slowly as he could to avoid making too much noise. His back aching and his breath coming in pants and wheezes, he finally reached the edge of the trees and emerged into the empty twilight. After a pause, he began to stump his way down the grass to the water. As his breath began to come more smoothly he peered out into the thick mist shrouding the lake. Raising his hand, Merlin focused on Excalibur and spoke. His eyes blazed. For several thunderous seconds, nothing seemed to happen, then the blade came soaring through the air to meet his outstretched hand. Reverently, he lay the sword at his feet.
"Thank you, Freya," he straightened, leaning on his staff, and once again peered into the fog.
Again, there was a pause. Then, slowly, a ripple began to appear at the water's edge, the faintest swishing of water against the prow of a boat, a dark shape in the ever darkening fog. Then, quickly, a glint of light on armour, the shape grew in size and detail, and there was Arthur. He looked just as Merlin had last seen him. His armour, hair, and cloak all arranged in the exact same way as they had hundreds of years ago. And nothing stirred. Merlin swallowed and gritted his teeth. He knelt beside the small boat as it ground to a halt on the beach. There wasn't any sign that Arthur lived. Swallowing hard, the old sorcerer reached out a shaking hand and took hold of Excalibur. With a careful, gentle movement, he lifted Arthur's arm and folded the fingers around the hilt. Placing his hand on his friend's chest, Merlin closed his eyes and whispered a spell.
With a jolt, Merlin started backward as Arthur shot up and took a huge breath before collapsing back onto his elbows. Taking huge, shuddering breaths he tried to pull himself up into a sitting position, Excalibur falling at his side. His arms wouldn't stay steady however, and he fell back onto the bow. Merlin moved himself to his friends side and gently pulled on his shoulders to move him into a sitting position. Still shivering, Arthur stared up at his friend.
"M-M-Merlin..."
Merlin grinned down at him, "Arthur."
The Once and Future King laughed shakily, "Merlin, you got old..."
His eyes rolled up into his head and he passed out.
Let me know what you think. I'm hoping this is something people will want to read more of. I'm planning to make the later chapters longer and to update once every week or two.