These were the days when Merlin was no longer the high spirited servant with a huge yet invisible burden; these were the days when Merlin sat alone. Day after day, year after year, century after century. He sat as the old man he dreaded to become in the days of Camelot, the disguise he used in order for him to save his kings life. His friends life. His eyes were saddened, grey and dull. He barely had the strength to stand, let alone make breakfast. Every day was the same agony and torture he had to withstand. He had witnessed civilizations grow, change and evolve. He often thought of the old days with Arthur, the excitement, the adventure and the friendship, the love that united them all. But then he remembered that day, that terrible day. When Merlin held his brother in his arms, tears streaming down his face.

"Just, just hold me...Please."

Merlin gave a little shudder and decided to retire for the night, shaking his head in order for the agonizing memories to disappear. With great struggle, he forced himself out of his wooden chair; his fragile body swayed as he reached to grab his staff, and then proceeded to shuffle towards his mattress lay on the wooden floorboards. He had not even attempted to re-decorate his home since the day he bought it- a year exactly after Arthur's death. No electricity, no nothing. He had become the elderly man in which he and Will used to prank in Ealdor, the one no one cared about. Of course, Merlin is a lot older than he, older than anyone could ever guess, he didn't look a day older than 81- that, Merlin prided himself on.

As he collapsed onto the mattress, he instantly fell into a deep sleep. He was so weak; he had no reason to try anymore. He often dreamt of Camelot, re living the amazing times which had passed...

"Is your little bottom sore?"

"Yes, it's not as fat as yours"

"You know, you've got a lot of nerve... For a wimp"

"I may be a wimp, but at least I'm not a dollop head."

"There's no such word"

"It's idiomatic"

"It's what?"

"You need to be more in touch with the people"

"Describe dollop... Head..."

"In two words?"

"Yeah"

"Prince Arthur"

He missed the constant banter, but there was no point even thinking about it. Those days were long gone, and they're not about to return anytime soon. Merlin twitched, and jerked his head, leaning up to stare around the room. 'Must have had a night mare' he thought. Rolling out of his bed, he peered over his desk in order to find some sort of draft he had prepared hours before in case his dreams returned. He was still a highly skilled physician, and still the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived .It's just there's no one around to appreciate it anymore, no one even knew he existed. Of course he knew their legend had lived on, just like the dragon had said, just not in such detail as it ought to be. Then again, Kilgharrah could be wrong. The 'Once and Future King' was yet to return. Merlin was alone. Forever crying himself to sleep. Forever waiting to die. Forever begging for it all to stop... Please...

The next day, Merlin continued his usual daily activities. Sit, snooze, eat; brew worthless potions, and occasionally practice magic in his basement- not that he even needed to anymore. He remembered when his younger prattling self would struggle with such spells, where as now, all he had to do is utter the words, and he could bring down the entire forest.

As powerful as he is, he should be able to end his own life, but no. He had tried. So, so many times. From each of the occasions, his withered body had been beaten, stabbed, bruised, scratched and strangled. He was dead inside, but his destinies curse wouldn't allow him to leave. He had to stay and 'protect' the land. Like that needed doing anymore...He had to watch his loved ones, loose them. And carry on with life.

Down by the lake of Avalon, something peculiar was happening. Something... Magic. Magic was returning to the realm once more, at last. A thin layer of illuminating golden dust covered the water. Light gleamed to the skies, reflecting from the trees and bursting with energy. The lake rippled delicately in circular motions, all being centered from once spot in the water. There appeared to be a small whirl pool with the golden light beaming from the depths. Birds fled the light, the sky became dim, and the power became stronger and stronger. This was it. Arthur was returning.

Streams of light flickered above the rings of water, and suddenly, one final burst of energy shot out of the whirl pool, surrounding the lake with such power that the ground shook, and leaves were flown off their branch in all directions. The lake was nothing but gold. Shining so bright that nothing could be seen.

Merlin stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes glowed gold as he stood in the center of his front room. He could see it. Visions of the golden lake flashed before his eyes. He saw waves crashing upon the rocks, then suddenly, a broad, blonde haired man emerged from the center of the whirl pool. Warmth and happiness immediately filled Merlin's heart. 'But... No. This can't be real.' Thoughts flooded his mind, all these years of waiting, he had given up all hope. 'He left me. This can't- no...' His legs collapsed beneath him, unable to hold his own weight, the forgotten energy inside his head was too much to handle. He lay sprawled on the hard wooden floor, his eyes tearing up with denial and pain. He's alone. Arthur's never coming back to me. Even if he did return, he would not return to me. No one will. No one wants me. And his eyes closed slowly as a single tear trickled down his cheek.