Some day, far into the distant future, past kingdoms and dragons and magic, there're is still one who knows and remembers.
And there is still one waiting to be found.
Merlin was stuck, time had frozen around him, leaving him the same man he was hundreds of years ago.
He was forced to live on, for an eternity, in pursuit of the king he once served.
So here we are, in present day 2014, on the day that King Arthur returns.
This day started as any other, but there was a slight change, a shift in the atmosphere, and of course it was felt by one very particular sorcerer. Merlin woke up in his small house by the lake. The very same lake where he sent his best friend away, thinking he'd lost him forever.
His clothing was similar to what he wore back when Camelot was home, however more modern. He dressed in a brown v-neck under a navy blue hoodie and gray skinny jeans. In his hands was a piece of red fabric, his favorite neck tie, nearly identical to the one he owned in the kingdom.
He wrapped it around his neck slowly, a bit dazed, and tugged on his leather boots.
Merlin stepped out the door towards the lake, just as he did every morning for as long as he could remember. The sunlight glittered across the water, reflecting back the centuries Merlin endured by its shores. He sat with his back resting against the tree nearest to the water, and looked out at the crumbled ruins of the stone pillar that had given him hope in the darkest of times. He closed his eyes and listened to the water churn peacefully and rhythmically.
But today, something disturbed the lake. Merlin heard the splashing and his eyes shot open in alarm. Nothing ever happened on this lake.
There was something reaching out of the water. A hand, tightly gripping a sword.
Merlin leapt to his feet and rubbed his eyes, disbelieving. The hand retreated back beneath the surface, but the water around it rippled as the person moved forward.
Merlin ran towards the lake as fast as possible. As he reached the edge, the person emerged from the water slowly, revealing his head and hair that he knew was distinctly blonde when dry.
Merlin gasped, and called out, "Arthur."
The man lifted his head at his name, still trudging upwards, allowing Merlin to see the dark red cloak and armor across his chest.
Without thinking, Merlin walked straight into the lake, closing the distance between the old friends. He grinned and Arthur returned the smile.
Arthur looked him over, as they were now both standing right in front of each other, waist deep in the lake, with a tiny bit of confusion and annoyance. Merlin was gaping at him, which was expected seeing as his best friend had just returned from the dead.
"By the gods, Merlin, what are you wearing?"
Merlin just laughed, tears suddenly clouding his vision, and held out his arm. Arthur took it without question, grasping tightly at the elbow. Merlin tugged him towards him, pulling them into a soaking wet hug that neither of them ever wanted to end.
"Arthur." Was all Merlin could say, his throat tight with emotion. He held him tighter, and Arthur melted into his arms.
"Merlin." Arthur said into his shoulder. "What happened?"
Merlin pulled back finally, wiping his tears away, and looked away.
"An awful lot." He said, smiling sadly.