Camelot should have descended into darkness. Arthur's death should have ruined the lives of all who knew him, followed him, and were lead by him. And it did. For those that were close to him at least. The kingdom still grew though. Time still passed. A wife mourned, but then continued to lead. For King Arthur was no more, but his kingdom, his love, his dreams for the future still stood. Queen Gwen brought the kingdom to glory, after the bloody war. Magic was once again lawful, yet He could not return. He could not face the sad eyes of the queen. He could not face His own guilt-ridden face in the reflection of the kingdom. He could not watch His friends gather at the burial of a king, a king He did not save. A king who was His friend. And so He watched as the kingdom grew to prosper, never joining once in the festivities of hope that were born from the ashes of Arthur's death. Not even when He was declared dead did He dare to approach His friends to show them He was alright, for guilt was all He could feel when He looked upon their faces. Guilt for not saving their king, guilt for lying to them about His true nature, and guilt for never returning. A guilt that would not fade with time, nor with company. It was a guilt He felt He should bear on His own unrecognizable shoulders. And He watched the kingdom Arthur had built stand and defend itself, grow in size and riches, double in prosperity, unite foes, and win impossible battles. It was the kingdom Arthur was destined to rule, the kingdom that was without its rightful ruler, thanks to Him.
He watched as Gwen grew old, soft lines adorning her face, still a powerful ruler, though she was alone because of Him. When she was finally lowered into the ground next to the grave of her husband, He watched, his hair white, His face wrinkled as she was put to rest one final time. And then He watched as the kingdom fell without its rulers, the castle crumbling, forests slowly devouring villages, magic becoming a myth, but still He did not return. For now He was guilty of Arthur's kingdom's death, and when the king was reborn, Arthur would not have a home to rule in, a realm to rule over. And as the Isle of the Blessed began to guard itself, slowly tightening its hold on the remaining magic, cutting it off from the world, He finally turned His back on Arthur's kingdom, hoping His name would never be remembered, the name of Arthur's once friend, the name Merlin.
A/N: This is just something I wrote when I was bored. Any and all reviews are welcome. Thanks for reading! Also, it's been a while since I've watched Merlin, so please forgive any mistakes.