Taking over this town, they should worry,

But these problems aside I think I taught you well.

That we won't run,

And we won't run,

And we won't run.

An elderly man standing in the back of a bookstore with a pair of ear buds in his wrinkled ears listened to the soothing tune that had recently been released. He could almost swear it was made just for him.

And in the winter night sky ships are sailing,

Looking down on these bright blue city lights.

And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait.

We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay.

That was certainly true for him. He had stayed on Earth long enough for hundreds of generations. He had lived far too long. And it made it all worse that he had to live alone, without his friends, who had died years and years back. He was all alone.

Well that wasn't necessarily true. Aithusa was still around, although getting very old, and Freya was eternal, living in Avalon as the Lady of the Lake. But Aithusa didn't want to be around him, seeing as his affiliation had been with Morgana, who hated the man. Aithusa, by default it would seem, was intensely uncomfortable around him, torn between his loyalty to the last Dragon Lord and his Lady Morgana. And Freya...well, Freya was always there for him, but the times together were short because she had to keep watch over Arthur's dormant spirit to make sure no harm came to it before he rose again. They were still waiting.

Howling ghosts they reappear

In mountains that are stacked with fear

But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.

A lionheart.

The old wizard sighed. A lionheart. Was he that lionheart? Arthur may have said so, but may have followed it up with 'But a stupid one'. The thought amused him, but also saddened him. Thinking about Arthur was always painful. It was hard to believe that a man he had known for maybe ten years would affect him for the rest of his life, many hundreds of years longer than that.

His crown lit up the way as we moved slowly

Pass the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind.

Though far away, though far away, though far away

We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same.

That was true once. Arthur and Merlin, always together, inseparable teammates. But now it was different. Arthur was dead. Merlin had changed. He was no longer the charming young man that had earned him so many loyal friends, but rather a feisty old man who had the appearance of a hobo. The only thing that remained unchanged was his ability to do magic. This thought stung him as well. He remembered a moment with Arthur on the last night before he died. It stung, but it refused to leave him:

"Merlin, whatever happens-"

"Shh, don't talk."

"I'm the king, Merlin, you can't tell me what to do."

"I always have, I'm not going to change now."

"I don't want you to change. I want you to always be you."

Merlin strode out of the bookstore quickly. This memory hurt. It hurt a lot. Because he had changed, the one thing Arthur had told him not to do. He had changed because of Arthur, which just made it more disgraceful. Merlin was sick with himself and the way he had changed since Arthur's death, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Everyone thought he was crazy. He was too deep in self-loathing to start caring for himself again. He blamed himself for what had happened and the consequences that followed. Camelot fell not too long after Guinevere finally passed away at an old age and Merlin could do nothing about it. Everything he loved was just out of reach.

Camelot was no longer a kingdom, but a shell, a husk of a castle that had once been glorious. Arthur was dead, but his spirit was waiting to rise, but it had been dormant for hundreds of years and Merlin was beginning to lose hope that he would ever come back. Freya could only be with him in short blips. Aithusa was unreachable and unable to help him cope. He could always visit Gaius and the knights at Stonehenge, as it was now called, but he didn't have the heart to go there and besides, he did not possess the horn to summon them. He also did not want to risk any free spirits, for good or evil. Arthur did not dwell there because his soul was almost...pending. Not yet ready for the next world. Just dormant. But Merlin had no magic to bring him back whenever he wanted to. It was up to his destiny to decide.

Merlin walked all the way to Avalon, just wandering as he always did. He dove into the water there and commanded the Shi to take him to the island in the middle. No one bothered him there. Freya seemed to sense his presence and Merlin could sense she was excited. What about? His heart raced when he pondered what she could have to tell him. He summoned her at the island and her image appeared in the water immediately.

"Merlin!" she cried out. Upon seeing his sorry appearance, she commented anxiously, "You need to take better care of yourself. Have you completely neglected your health?" He huffed in response, his rasping voice replying,

"I just don't care about myself anymore, Freya. I'm just waiting. How's Arthur?" She looked at him and replied tersely,

"He's fine. Still dormant as far as I can tell. Before I tell you anything, I want you to know that you are still important and needed, okay? Everyone matters, you said so yourself. Why don't you make friends or something? You've changed too much since he left." Merlin flushed red into his wrinkles and replied a bit annoyed,

"I'm not here about me, Freya! Now what is it you wanted to tell me?" She glared at him and crossed her arms.

"There's no need to be so sharp with me, Emrys. I need not tell you anything until you promise to take better care of yourself, my god, you're wasting away." Merlin rolled his eyes. She only called him Emrys when she was mad at him.

"I'm sorry. Now what is it?"

"Promise."

"Freya!"

"Promise!" Merlin sighed loudly.

"Fine! I promise I'll try to look like a normal old man rather than a mental one, alright? Now tell me!" She smirked at him and chortled,

"Okay. I've found out something about you, Merlin. I spoke with a...reliable source...and she informed me that you won't stop living in this world until you meet Arthur a second time and completely believe in yourself and actually live your life to the full potential. You need to get yourself out of the Dark Ages and into the light. Since Kilgarra told you that he would return, you have only accepted his death as a temporary good-bye and refused to care for yourself until he returned, apparently. You-"

"Of course! I was terribly upset about it! He was my best friend and he died before his time! Freya, do you have any idea what that's like? How my life is like right now? The years in which I knew Arthur and Gaius and Gwaine and all of them were the best I'd ever had and then suddenly POOF, they all started getting knocked off one by one! Gwaine, I found out, was killed by Morgana after she tortured him for information! Gaius was very old by the time Arthur died and he passed on a year after that! And ever since, my friends and the only people I wanted to know were gone. I think Gwen was the last one to go, that tough old bird, but after that, there wasn't anything for me to do anymore because Camelot was falling and there was nothing I could do to stop it! After that, I've had to live for centuries with only those years to comfort me in my long miserable existence on this rock. I only have you and Aithusa and the knowledge that my best friend may come back from the dead to save Albion, but Albion doesn't need saving! It hasn't since he died!" Merlin kicked the dirt moodily, the twinge in his old bones causing him to wince from the pain that jolted through his leg. He looked at Freya, expecting her to have disappeared or be furious, but instead he just saw deep sorrow there.

"You forget, Merlin, that I am dead and still go on living for all eternity in this lake. When you die, your spirit will still be active, but you will be free to do as you wish, while I have no choice. You are free to do as you wish now, but instead you mope and moan about your miserable existence when in fact it is you who makes it that way," her voice went up an octave and she started to flush a bit from frustration or annoyance or anger, Merlin couldn't tell which. "You never accepted Arthur's death and brought this upon yourself. I'm sorry he died in your arms, Merlin, really I am, but you need to move on! I have no idea when or if, at this point, he'll return, and the moment his spirit is awake, I will notify you, you can be sure. Get over, yourself, Emrys, because I'm sure this attitude of yours is partly why he hasn't come back. Because he doesn't want to!" She was breathing heavily now from working herself up and her arms were crossed over her chest. She glared at Merlin and he glared back at her.

"How dare you...how dare you even suggest that he doesn't...that it's my fault that he...why I ought to…" he stammered furiously, waving his hands in what was supposed to be a threatening manner.

"Oh please," she snorted, "I'm the Lady of the bloody Lake, always have been, always will be. Calm yourself." Merlin closed his eyes, putting his hands down at his thighs and breathed deeply, trying to forget what she had said. But he couldn't. Was his existence purposeful? Thinking back, he had, in fact, saved the lives of many even after Camelot fell, by banishing bandits or setting the offenders on fire, or the like. He had turned the tide of quite a few important battles that made the world today what it was. Or at least, what made Great Britain what it was. Was it possible that he was still needed here?

"I'm sorry, Freya," he apologized finally, his fists still clenched by his sides, "I'll make a better effort now, I suppose. I'll try at least. Tell Arthur…well I don't even know if he can hear you, but just in case, tell him I'm sorry...for changing. He never wanted me to do this to myself and here I am, having gone out of my way to feel bad for myself." Freya nodded and her expression suddenly turned worried.

"I should go. I've been away from him far too long. I don't want the Shi getting at him." Merlin shooed her away, more concerned about Arthur's spirit's safety than his own and made his way back to the mainland. He wanted nothing more than to sulk in the bookstore again or watch the city from the top of a tall building, but he had promised Freya he'd try to make his way back into normal life again.

((()))

Surprisingly enough, Merlin did in fact own a house. It appeared to be small and humble on the outside, but he had placed a spell on it long ago so that it was bigger on the inside. It greatly resembled his old residence with Gaius, and was in fact, full of herbs and spices and potions that could help others, should they ever need it. Unfortunately, due to the newer medicines and such, Merlin was not required as a physician anymore, and it was rare that anyone needed his superior medicinal skills. Almost nobody knew he even was a physician and those who did also held the opinion that he was senile and not to be trusted, when in fact, the opposite was true. He could heal anyone better than even the medicine today could, and yet no one sought his help. But he kept inventory anyway, trying to come up with new cures every day. It was a way to keep himself busy.

Merlin eyed the bathtub in the corner of the room, reminiscing over the time that Arthur killed a unicorn, releasing a curse on the entire city, and he and Gaius were forced to drink Merlin's bathwater. It wasn't pleasant, but it was preferable to this. He hadn't used the tub in quite some time. Sighing to himself, he figured the first step in coming back into the real world was to clean himself up a bit. He quickly filled the metal tub with warm water and washed himself with his own soap.

It was rare that he bought anything in terms of hygiene from the shops since he knew full-well how to make his own. However, despite the rustic home he possessed, Merlin did own a great deal of new world items. He found the kitchen supplies much faster than his own soap and water in terms of cleaning up his kitchen and the food in the farmer's markets was fresh and bountiful and allowed Merlin to recreate some old dishes from when he'd lived with Gaius. He did not have a television, nor a computer or a cellphone, but he had some more comfortable modern furniture and a radio. He also had many, many books, old and new. He read constantly, once he had finished the Arthurian legends to comfort him, and read many stories based off of his own. Sometimes the parallels or similarities made him smile. These stories were called fiction, but he knew there was some truth in them.

After his bath, Merlin quickly threw his dirty clothing into the appropriate machine, which was faster and made his clothes smell better than hand washing them, and went about doing little things that would make him look more approachable. He trimmed his nails so they weren't so much claws, and brushed his teeth several times, taking extra care to take some TicTacs, and was tempted to cut his beard, but stopped suddenly. Did he want it gone? No, he didn't. But something had to be done about it, it was just too long. He settled on cutting his hair to an appropriate length and then just trimming his beard to give it a cleaner shape and going through it to see what had, over the years, gotten stuck in it. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he nearly didn't recognize himself.

Merlin's skin was now two or three shades lighter from cleaning the dirt off and his beard looked more silvery than dirty grey. He still had age spots, but that was not his concern. His teeth were much cleaner than usual, his fingernails presentable, and his face looked softer overall. He looked more kindly than aggressive now. Merlin thumbed through his drawers to look for something better to wear than his previous outfit. He found his old long red robe and chuckled to himself. That might be fun to wear. Shaking his head, he grabbed an old pair of jeans that still fit him and pulled on a button-up red shirt that was not the most fashionable thing, but it kept him happy and comfortable. There. That was better.

He kept his cleaner appearance up for a few weeks and started to indulge himself more, buying sweets like he used to and began to make conversation again. He was integrating himself back into the world. Overall, he found this made him happier, even if some people still thought he was a crazy old man. One day towards the end of September, with golden and red leaves falling to the ground, Merlin rested himself on a bench in a park near Avalon. He jumped when he suddenly heard Freya's voice in his head.

Merlin, she whispered urgently, Merlin, come quick. He looked around as if expecting to see her there before realizing she was speaking in his mind.

What is it, Freya? What's wrong? Is it Arthur? , he replied anxiously.

Yes, you need to come over here right now, she called.

On my way.

Merlin, NOW!

I'm coming, I'm coming! Her tone terrified Merlin, as she sounded very scared or nervous. He made his way to a bus which dropped him off at Avalon and he whispered an incantation that would carry him across the lake. He stood in the center, summoning Freya quickly. It had taken him twenty minutes to arrive.

"Freya, what is it? Is he okay?" he asked frantically when she appeared.

"I don't know, Merlin, I don't know!" she cried, "His spirit is no longer dormant, but he doesn't appear to be becoming active again either. I don't know what's going on!" Swallowing his fear he requested,

"Show me." She shuddered before bringing up an image of what appeared to be a glass orb with a blue and silvery creature inside. Normally it would sit at the bottom, not moving, but now it was bouncing against the glass violently. He had seen spirits rise before and this was not how they were supposed to do it. Merlin swallowed the panic rising in his throat again and tried to address Freya calmly.

"Freya, what do you think is happening?" Her eyes were wide as she replied,

"I know a lot, you know that, but I've never seen anything like it before." He closed his eyes, searching his memories for an answer, and did not find one.

"Okay. Okay. It's going to be alright. I'll stay here until something changes for the better, alright?" She nodded before darting away to try and soothe the spirit. Without him purposefully causing it, hot tears rose to Merlin's eyes. He could not lose Arthur, not for good and not again. When he opened his eyes again, he suddenly saw a familiar figure.

"Gwaine? What the…how are you...how can you be here?" Gwaine looked a bit confused. He was just an image, like Freya, but instead of being I the water, he was standing in front of Merlin.

"Merlin! I ah, I'm not actually sure. But while I'm here, how you been, Merlin?" Merlin didn't question how Gwaine knew who it was, being a spirit of the dead had its benefits, like recognizing people from their previous life, regardless of form. Merlin also ignored the question about himself.

"No offense, Gwaine, but you're...dead."

"Really? Hadn't noticed," Gwaine started to reply sarcastically before an expression came over his face of concentration. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at something Merlin couldn't see before he continued, "Oh, right. I think someone, not sure who, uh, sent me here. For a message. For you. They said to tell you not to fear what is happening to Arthur's spirit, but what happens now is forever shall be. Something about the second rising of Arthur Pendragon. I know it was good news though, for you. So it must mean that Arthur's coming back." He looked thoughtful for a minute. "That'd be nice, to come back. What...what century is this?"

Merlin was speechless for a minute before clearing his throat and replying, "Uh, twenty-first."

"But how are you still here? You shoulda been dead like the rest of us by now. I was looking for your spirit, you know, and I never could find it and here I am talking to you about a serious matter like we're just having a drink in the tavern." Merlin was confused for a second. How could Gwaine not know? Then he remembered that Gwaine had died before he saw Merlin again after the war.

"I, um, have magic. And I think I'm the most powerful sorcerer in the world or something. Um. You missed the announcement." Merlin was still awestruck by Gwaine's sudden and random appearance.

"Must have. But a sorcerer? Merlin, that's like...illegal. You could be killed for that!" Merlin shrugged.

"Not anymore. We're not in Camelot, Gwaine, we're in the twenty-first century. There are no rules against magic because no one believes it exists anymore. I-"

"Well that's stupid, of course it exists," his eyes narrowed for a minute, "But if you're a sorcerer that means…."

"Gwaine, I had to go over this with Arthur, I've only ever used my magic for good, okay? Can we please drop this and get back to what you were here to tell me?"

"You told Arthur and not me?"

"He was dying!"

"So was I, but I never heard anything about it."

"Gwaine!"

"What?" Merlin sighed and looked back up at his old friend, allowing a wide grin to spread over his face.

"It's good to see you, mate." He put a hand out for Gwaine to take, but Gwaine shook his head almost sadly.

"Just an image, Merlin. I truly am really happy to see you too, though." A familiar cheeky grin spread over Gwaine's face, right before another look of concentration came over his face again.

"I've got to go, Merlin. They're taking me back into the other world." Merlin shook his head.

"I don't want you to go!" he said childishly. Gwaine's image began to shimmer.

"We'll meet again, old friend. For now, just know that Arthur is coming back soon. Don't pity me or your late friends, we're having quite a party back here. Make the most of your existence in this world, though, Merlin, you'll miss it when it's gone!" With that, Gwaine disappeared and Merlin's heart tugged. He hadn't seen anyone besides Freya from the old times in ages. Gwaine was a good friend of his and it had made him ecstatic to see him, but sad to see him go.

He sat down on the lakeside, waiting for Freya to give an update, settling the tips of his shoes in the cool water. Merlin pulled his knees up to his chest, putting his head down and his hands locked around his shins. He heard nothing from Freya, but suddenly her mood changed to happiness and excitement. He ignored it. Probably a false alarm anyway.

He stayed in this position for a while, not hearing the displacement of water behind him and wet feet hitting the ground with a light slapping noise. A warm hand rested on his shoulder as a familiar voice behind him asked tentatively,

"Merlin?"