A/N: Thank you everyone who gave me such good reviews on my first fanfic! It made my day to see that my writing was getting a good response. Here is my second go at Merlin, and as always, if the response is good, I'll find another plotline for another story. Maybe I'll do a Sherlock one if inspiration hits me... Thanks again and enjoy :)

Coming Home

It had been three days. Three days since Arthur had risen from Avalon and been reunited with Merlin. Arthur's spirit had been trapped in the lake for a thousand years, and he had began to give up hope of ever going back to his life. Other spirits had told him that when Albion's need was greatest, he would return from the dead. However, as the years had passed on, Arthur had given up hope. All of his friends would have been dead - Guinevere, Leon, Gaius, and Merlin. He wasn't sure that he wanted to return.

However, one day, a bright light had surrounded Arthur. It had crawled up his arms and covered his torso.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in the Lake of Avalon and looking out at what should have been the forest. Instead, he saw a few trees, a wooden cabin, and some type of village with tall buildings. When Arthur had moved out of the lake, wearing nothing but a pair of brown trousers, the door to the cabin opened. An old man had stepped out, and frozen where he was standing. As Arthur stood at the bank of the lake, the old man's wrinkles started to fade, and his long white beard and hair began to darken and recede back into his head. Before long, Arthur was greeted with a familiar friend - Merlin.

Arthur had no idea how his friend was still there. He knew that it should have been impossible, but didn't care. It was Merlin. His manservant had broken down into tears immediately, as had Arthur. After embracing, Merlin had spent hours explaining everything to Arthur, and over the past three days, Arthur had been trying to get his head around all of the new technology that Merlin had been around for a thousand years. Living in Avalon as a spirit for the same time had been hard.

Now, everything was back to normal. He was living with Merlin in his cabin, which was very nice, for being a cabin. The inside had soft carpet floors, and two big beds. Merlin also had some new technology: an electronic stove, hot machine called a microwave, and, (Arthur's personal favorite) a magical colored box with people inside who said and did interesting thing. Merlin had called it a television, and said science was behind it, but Arthur knew that somehow, Merlin was using his magic to keep these entertaining people in the box. At the moment, he was watching these people have very funny conversations as Merlin slept in the next room over. In these past few days, Merlin had been working tirelessly to help Arthur adjust to the land of the living again - they had gone shopping for jeans, hoodies, and pajamas, which Arthur didn't really care for, and Merlin had bought furnishings for the guest room that had been transformed into Arthur's personal space.

Their reunion had been a joyous one. Upon seeing him, Arthur had rushed to Merlin and grabbed him into a bear hug. He had missed his manservant so much. There was much to talk about. After nearly six hours, the two men had discussed Merlin's magic and immortality, the thousand years they had been apart, and what the future would hold.

Arthur stood up, and used what Merlin had told him was a remote to turn the magical talking box black. The electrical lights were still on, even though it was late. He walked around the cabin, taking in every aspect of Merlin's home. It was so different from what he had known before. While he had been dead, Camelot had been destroyed. His castle was nonexistent.

Arthur walked over to Merlin's desk and rifled through papers curiously. He wondered what Merlin had been up to for fifteen hundred years. He sat down in the plushy red chair and fiddled with drawers. Most were empty, but the bottom drawer had three pieces of paper in it. One was yellowed and torn at the corners and had many creases from being folded and unfolded. The second was slightly yellowed and faded, like the first. However, the last letter had unfaded ink and perfectly white paper. Arthur was immediately filled with curiousity as he gently removed the three papers from the desk.

He unfolded the oldest with great care, and found that it was a letter. From Merlin. Adressed to him. Arthur debated for a moment whether or not he should read it, but decided to plow on. Besides, what could Merlin have said that they hadn't discussed already? He began to read the ten century-old letter.

Dear Arthur,

You died in my arms today, you clotpole. You couldn't have made things simple. I ask myself, if I could turn back time ten years, what would I do? Would I choose not to stick up to you when you were throwing knives at the 'moving target', or would I have done what I did? When Mary Collins threw that knife at you, would I have let you die then, knowing that I could have saved myself the pain I feel now, or would I have saved your life?

Your death has caused me pain beyond anything I could have ever imagined. When you took your last breath, I felt dead inside. When I placed you in the boat and sent you off, I felt like I was sending a part of myself away. There was so much left that I had to tell you. We had so much to talk about. I feel like there's a hole in my heart, Arthur. My destiny was to save you, but I failed. I had one job that I couldn't complete. You are dead, and it's my fault.

My only solace is that the Great Dragon fortells that you will rise again, when Albion's need is greatest. I will wait, then. I think I might build a nice home here, by the lake, where I can watch the water, so I can be here when you return. Knowing you, you dollophead, it might be awhile. You'll probably get lost, run across some bandits, save a damsel in distress, but however long it takes, I will be here.

I will try not to lose hope, Arthur. I will think about how you meant the world to me, and I will remember everything about you. I will remember how you insulted me, how you protected me, and how I needed you. I still need you, but I'll have to go without.

You know, I wouldn't redo anything. Knowing you was an honor, and I would do everything over.

Please come back soon.

Merlin.

Arthur set the letter down softly and leaned back in the chair. Had his death really caused Merlin so much pain? He knew that if it had been the other way aroynd, he would have been heartbroken at Merlin's demise, but he didn't think that Merlin thought that highly of him. And why had Merlin decided to wait here for him? It had been fifteen hundred years - surely he had been to other places besides the lake. Arthur inhaled and moved onto the second letter.

Dear Arthur,

Where are you? It has been five hundred years, and I have long had the knowledge that I am immortal. Do you know how it feels, to wait for all eternity and know that you will never die? I have tried everything - magic, mortal wounds, poison. Nothing works. I have watched civilaztions rise and fall, I have watched generations pass and die out, and I have made friends again, just to watch them die. To watch their children and grandchildren die.

None of this pain compares to losing you, Arthur. Five hundred years dims the memory, but I can still remember everything about you. There is no one else like you in the world. I would know - I have traveled it time and time again. Every day, I wonder where you are. There are times where I think you'll rise again soon, and times where I think you'll never come back to me. I know that your out there, and I know that you're probably mad at me for letting you die and keeping my magic a secret, but five hundred years? You total prat. I think that this is a little unnecessary.

The scary thing is, Arthur, I would wait five hundred more years, even if I knew you wouldn't return anytime soon. I would wait a thousand more if I knew I could hold you.

Please hurry. I can't take it much longer.

Merlin

After reading the second letter, Arthur stood up and paced the room. Did Merlin really mean everything he had written? Over a thousand years must have brought a lot of pain for Merlin. Was losing him really the worst sensation the warlock had ever known? Arthur shuddered at the thought of Merlin desperately trying everything to kill himself. He couldn't bear thinking of Merlin stabbing himself or throwing himself off a rooftop, only to discover that he couldn't die. What would he have done if Merlin hadn't been there when he had awakened? Arthur sat back down and held his head in his hands. Merlin was his steadiness, his constant. He moved on the third letter, the newest one.

My Arthur,

I am beyond happiness. It has been a thousand hellish years without you, and as I watch you sleep in my bed, I feel as if I could cry. You are here, with me, and God, you're as brilliant as I remember. When you emerged from that lake, your hair dripping wet and wearing just your trousers, I felt my heart stop (well, if it could - my damn heart will never stop). You were... breathtaking.

The thousand years were worth the wait. To hear you call me an idiot and insult me, to see you laughing at me, to see your surprise but acceptance of my magic. I haven't been so happy in centuries.

I still feel guilt. Sometimes, I feel it so deeply when I look at you, Arthur, that it hurts. You never should have died. I was supposed to protect you. I look back and think of everything I could have done to save you.

I have realized that I love you, Arthur. I love you more than I love anything in the world. I would die a thousand times over for you. If I could've traded places with you in death, I wouldn't have even hesitated.

You know, for you being such a prat, I think I would rather live a day with you than ten centuries without you. I would have never dreamt of saying that when I first met you, but now, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm so happy that you're home. But, God help me if you read these. I will use my magic to turn you into a toad.

I can safely say that I love you.

Merlin

Arthur placed the three letters back where he found them, and folded his hands over his chest. Merlin, kind, caring Merlin, who had waited a thousand years for him, loved him. Arthur thought of all the years he was without Merlin, all the pain and boredom he felt. A warm feeling spread through his chest. He loved Merlin. He loved everything about him.

Arthur stood up and manuevered his way through Merlin's home, turning off the electric, magical lights as he made his way to Merlin's bedchambers. He stepped in, and saw Merlin curled up on his bed. He looked so innocent, his feathery, raven-black hair all mussed and his lanky body curled into a ball. Arthur felt the same warm feeling spreading through his chest upon seeing Merlin like that.

He turned down the blankets and slid into the bed, until he was lying next to Merlin's sleeping form. He wrapped an arm around Merlin's chest, and felt the boy next to him stir. Arthur panicked slightly, trying to think of an excuse for being in Merlin's bed. However, it was too late.

"Arthur?" Merlin murmured sleepily. "Why are you in my bed?"

"I've been dead for a thousand years, Merlin, I thought some human contact might be nice," Arthur snapped in reply. He mentally cursed himself. Merlin needed him to take away some guilt, not add to it.

"Dollophead," Merlin mumbled, and folded himself into Arthur's body. Arthur found one of his hands running through Merlin's dark hair soothingly..

"You know, my death was not your fault," Arthur whispered.

Merlin ripped himself from Arthur's arms and sat upright at this statement. "No," he began hollowly. "I was supposed to protect you, to make you safe. Instead, I lied to you about my magic and failed to be there when Mordred stabbed you."

"You didn't fail, Merlin. I trust you completely, and when I was dying, I felt so safe. I wouldn't have asked just anyone to hold me. As for your magic, you did what you felt was necessary at the time, and you did it for me. I can't express my gratitude for that." Arthur fell silent for a moment, but then spoke up again. "I never want you to feel guilt for what happened. It has been a thousand years, and I am here now. There must be some reason the world needs me now, but it needs you, too. We're two sides of a coin, Merlin, and if you feel guilty, I'll be too preoccupied with your idiot self to be any good."

After Arthur's speech, Merlin remained quiet, and Arthur worried that he had said the wrong thing.

"You read my letters, didn't you?" Merlin asked softly.

Arthur swallowed hard. What if Merlin got mad at him? "Yes."

However, his fears were quelched when Merlin gasped and launched himself into Arthur's arms. The warlock's tears were hot and wet on Arthur's new nightshirt, and sobs wracked his thin frame. Arthur bit his lower lip, but that didn't stop tears from rolling down his cheels. He wrapped his arms around Merlin and gently rocked back and forward as they cried together, for all they had lost and gained.

Finally, Merlin hiccupped and laid back against Arthur's chest. "I felt terrible."

"I know," Arthur replied softly, reclining back to the pillows. "But I'm here now." He pressed a kiss to the top of Merlin's head, and they laid in sleepy silence, each one appreciating what they had.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked eventually. "You aren't going to turn me into a toad, are you? For reading your letters?"

"I don't know. Maybe," Merlin replied, a hint of their old banter in his voice.

"Merlin, I was dead!" Arthur whined.

Merlin laughed before kissing Arthur's forehead. "That excuse is going to get old really fast."

Arthur smiled to himself in the darkness. He was alive again, and he had Merlin.

Destiny was calling.

Thanks to everyone who read! Reviews are loved.