There were stars above him, and that was all he saw.
He was fairly certain there were other things around him. He knew because he could hear the wind whispering through the leaves on the trees and the water gently lapping at the sides of the boat, lulling him into a trance. Sometimes he would look around himself to find out where he was. It was dark, so he couldn't make out much besides the dark silhouette of the forest and the stars reflected on the water's shimmering surface. Looking for too long made his head hurt with the effort of lifting, however, so most of the time he lay on his back and watched the sky.
It was peaceful, lying there in the boat. The waves gently rocked him, like a baby in his mothers arms. The motion was soothing, making it easy to drift in and out of sleep.
He relaxed into the quiet, the sounds of the land around him and the motion of the waves. His bones seemed to melt where he lay, finally allowed to rest.. He thought of the battles he'd fought and the tragedies he had witnessed. The serenity washed over him, peaceful, and lulled him again to sleep.
It never got brighter. The darkness was a constant, but it wasn't daunting. The darkness wrapped itself around him like a blanket, comforting him and protecting him. "Hush," it seemed to say, "Rest now, good King." So he did, with the darkness around him and the stars shining above.
He knew he was dead, and he never forgot his old life. Sometimes the memories would become so much that he would cry out into the silence. He remembered the smooth white walls of Camelot, and the bright colors of the Pendragon crest which he was buried in. He remembered his people and his knights and his friends.
Above all he remembered Merlin. Scenes from their final day together replayed in his mind in an endless cycle. He held no vengeance towards him, only longing. He wished he could have Merlin with him, if only for a little while. He never did get the chance to say everything he wanted to say, there just hadn't been the time. So in his mind he constructed a speech, revising and rewriting over and over in his mind, full of everything he'd say to Merlin when he next gets to see him. He'll say how grateful he was, how sorry he was and how he truly did appreciate everything Merlin did for him, despite how negatively he may have been treated.
He didn't float away, and he sometimes wondered if he was tethered to shore somehow. The bow bumped on the shore now and again, carried by the waves, only for him to be brought away. He drifted, calmed by the waves and the rustling trees and the stars.
Time passed, and it may as well have been years. Through all the waiting he slept, and longed, and looked at the stars.
The stars were his companions through all of it. They weren't the same stars he knew, but they were comforting all the same, twinkling warmly high above him. At times he felt like he could reach up and touch them, swirl the little points of light with his finger and make them dance. He never tried. Instead he simply looked at the sky and smiled.
Once he woke from a sleep, blinking his eyes drowsily open. The stars, he saw, were different. They were closer to him, definitely, and they were shimmering instead of twinkling. He frowned up at them, wondering what was wrong.
Suddenly, for the first time, he felt restless. In all his time lying in the boat he had been peacefully resting his bones, content to lay unmoving in the darkness. Now it was as if there was fire underneath his skin, and he itched to leap from the boat and move.
The stars swam above him, their light bending and distorting until he had no choice but to reach up a hand to touch them.
His fingers broke the surface of the lake. His arm followed, then his shoulder and his head and his torso. He sat up, water cascading from his naked skin, blinking to adjust his eyes to the brilliant moonlight of the living world.
The stars were finally still in the sky.
Suddenly he became aware of a splashing noise coming toward him, and he turned to see a fully clothed old man crashing through the water. As he watched, the long white hair receded into the skull and became dark, and the skin smoothed into a pale, unblemished face. The bright blue eyes were exactly as he remembered them.
Then the smiling face was filling his vision and he was enveloped in a crushing embrace. Merlin grinned into the crook of his neck and let out a half-laugh, half-sob.
"Arthur."