"Listen," Merlin laughs. "They're calling us."
He turns to Arthur with a grin on his face. Together, they look down at Albion with pride.
Arthur turns to Merlin, and for the first time, he's content – there is no more war, no more worries. They had done it.
Arthur wants to say, you're the reason my dreams came true. I couldn't have done it without you. You made it all possible. But the lump in his throat and the tears that pour out of his eyes stop him.
He can no longer see his villagers, his vision is too blurry. But he hears them. Their chants are strong and loud, something of a dream. He swallows his sobs and takes a shaky breath to steady himself, and Merlin takes his hand in his own. Arthur looks at his friend, The Greatest Sorcerer, and smiles. There's an indescribable feeling in his heart, growing and overwhelming him, so even though he tries, he can't stop crying.
Merlin doesn't say anything. He knows the feeling too well, because it bursts and bubbles inside of him every time he looks at Arthur. In fear of it taking over him, he looks at their crowd instead. There's a beauty in their rhythm, and it makes him want to sing along. But he holds on to Arthur silently, and lets the shock of their reality, their achievement, slowly sink in.
It's a thousand years since Arthur has passed the first time, but the world has not forgotten. Magic lives in the heart of Albion, a golden, shining, fiery force that holds all the wonders of their time, and their people kneel to a king that fought a merciless war. The Once and Future King and The Greatest Sorcerer watch the land they had built together grow, their fingers interlaced, their hands a warm link reaching between worlds to connect the two mightiest souls of their tale.
Eventually, Arthur's tears dry, and he turns to Merlin, solemnity in his eyes. "Who knew?" He asks, shock still evident in his features. Then he grins, and all at once Merlin loses the battle to contain himself. He pulls Arthur close, listens to his heart beat, and holds him so tight that the blond almost can't breathe. "I did," Merlin trembles lightly, "you will always be remembered."
Arthur's arms close around Merlin's waist. There is so much he wants to say, a thousand years worth of words, but all he can muster is a whisper. "Thank you."