If only he hadn't stopped; if only he hadn't listened to his infernal sense of mercy and compassion, then he'd be home. He'd be safe in the embrace of people who cared and that was what mattered. If only he hadn't come, then his greatest regret would not be his inbred kindness, and his noble heart. He would still have his innocence, and his pride.

He would be with Arthur in Camelot, where he belonged.

He had heard about the prospering country long before this. It had only taken a year for his King to settle his subjects. It filled Merlin to the brink with warm pride and joy when the word had come to the small band of physicians that he traveled with, in a distant village near Annis's kingdom where they worked on curing small cases of sickness.

Merlin was mixing a potion when one of his friends rushed into the room, completely bypassing the small door less space. Merlin was working quietly, with his mind on far away things and certain people, he was proud to be working with his hands, ever grateful for the knowledge Gaius had given him.

"Did you hear?" the Druid docoer asked quickly, breathless from his excited run. Merlin looked up, and tried to smile. This man reminded him of Elyan sometimes.

"Hear what?" he asked.

"The news, the news Merlin! Camelot is a magic haven!" The Druid told him, as if he couldn't believe it. Merlin on the other hand; felt a rush of elation and smug sense that could only be described as 'finally' rush through his veins.

"Really? Are you sure?" he asked. The man nodded and walked over to take Merlin's arm, tugging at it. He had always wanted to go to Camelot, but being druid he had never felt able, had never been able. But now, not even a year after Merlin had left….Arthur had done it. He had done it as Merlin always knew he would.

"Yes, man! A traveling merchant is here. He just came from Camelot, and you wouldn't believe what he's said of Uther's old kingdom! Druids walk free in the streets! Sorceresses practice healing freely for a wage! Our people hold offices in the Royal Court and have become Knights in the Camelot Round Table! Knights and Nobles stand side by side with Priestesses and Alchemists like brothers! Isn't it incredible?" he gasped. Merlin felt tears prick his eyes.

Oh, you prat, I knew you'd never let me down.

"Sounds like my kind of place," he replied, trying to hide the sudden lump in his throat. He stood, and started drying the left over herbs ad waters from his hands with a small rag, hiding his trembling hands.

"Totally! Can we go?" The Young Druid pleaded. Merlin grinned.

"Hey, you said practice healing for a wage, right? Tell the others to deliver their prescriptions and prepare to head out. We leave at dawn for Camelot," he ordered, and couldn't help but laugh when his friend whooped and jumped into the air elatedly.

"Yes, alright! We're going to Camelot!" He cheered as he ran from the hut to do as Merlin asked. Merlin turned to his supplies, supplies he had picked and gathered with his own hands, and grinned as a tearful laugh ripped itself from his throat. After almost a year away, he was on his way to Camelot once more, to his family and friends.

He was coming home!


Five years later:

Lightning roared in the sky, and to Arthur the following thunder sounded like Kilgarrah's roar of fury that had echoed across the plains of Albion the previous day. The cobblestone beneath his feet was still damp from the hard rain that had fallen that day. The smell of dampness and smoke from the fires permeated the air. It was quiet, peaceful, the moon a shining beacon of hope.

Arthur drove his sword-Excalibur- into the dummy torso, and violently ripped, fraying several strands of hay and fake clothing. Thunder rolled in the sky again, he saw a flash behind his back, and he did not care, did not go back inside, he merely continued to beat the dummy senseless because at that moment it was the only thing he could beat without repercussions.

Damn Council, stupid rules, damn stupid life.

He did not see Guinevere until she was right beside him, watching him with wide and compassionate brown eyes in the moonlight. She was wearing nothing but her sleep clothes, and a thin blood red silk robe to cover her near nakedness. Arthur stopped his activity, aghast to see her barefooted on the wet cobblestone, and in the cold streets of Autumn Camelot.

"Guinevere! What are you doing here?" He gasped. Even in the darkness of night with only the indifferent moon to cast light on her, she was the most transfixing and beautiful sight he has the privilege to see in his life. He fights back the urge to hold her in his arms and crush her against him until their skins blend, and they are one in body as well as spirit.

"I could ask you the same," she replied calmly, as if she wouldn't catch her death out here. Granted, Arthur was barefoot and in sleeping clothes too, but he was King. King's didn't get sick, they gallantly fell unwell.

However, Arthur knew that she wouldn't go until he spoke, until he told her why he was out there in the first place. He returned to his dummy slaying with newfound passion as he remembered why he was out there.

"They're fools," he growled. "Selfish, unseeing, prejudice fools. They don't understand! How can they just sit there while Merlin is who-knows-where going through who-knows-what?" He hissed furiously.

"Arthur, it has been three years…"

"I don't care how long it has been, Gwen! He needs me!" Arthur slashed down on the pretend Councilor's arm neatly disconnecting it from his body. "And the Council has forbidden me from continuing my search! How could they do this?" he gasped out. Gwen sighed and crossed her arms, her large eyes pools of sorrow…And resolve.

"Arthur…You have searched every corner of the Five Kingdoms for five years. You have sent out more Knights than any King ever did for his own blood kin, and never relented in your search. If we haven't found Merlin by now…" She trailed off, but Arthur knew what she meant to say anyway, and it made his blood boil. How could she, of all people, not realize? She, who knew them the best?

"He's alive, Gwen. I know he is!" He stabbed again, feeling cold sweat run down his skin, tickling beneath his arms and soaking his trousers, but he didn't care. He had no time to notice. He wanted one person and he was not there.

He stopped stabbing, gasping as he turned to her. He needed her to understand. "Don't you see, Guinevere?" he gasped out. "You know how strong a bond we had…"

She nodded sadly. "I've always known, even before you did," she whispered. Arthur felt his heart twist. Merlin had been one of Gwen's closest friends. It had been Merlin who had helped her through the horrible few months after Arthur had banished her, sending her to Hunith in Ealdor and supplying her with a constant stream of letters letting her know how everything was going, giving her a reason to continue on.

She had never complained about Arthur's apparent obsession, never had she once shown anger or resentment when his searches for Merlin took him away from home for months at a time, trickling down only after their first born came into the world. And even then, she had not complained. She had only encouraged and supported him all through the ordeal. He knew that this hurt her almost as much as it did him.

His eyes softened. "Then you, of all people, should know that I would be the first one to feel it if is soul left this world. And I haven't felt it, so he's alive, and so long as he lives, there is hope, and so long as there is hope," he gritted his teeth. "I will never give up on him," he ground out.

Gwen shifted uncomfortably. "Arthur, has it ever occurred to you that Merlin might not want to come back?" She asked. Arthur blinked at her confusedly.

"What?" He gasped.

"Well… What if Merlin has found something else-someone else- that brings forth his loyalty and love? What if there are people out there who need Emrys more than we do and he's taking care of them? What if he's found a new home and a new family?" Arthur's heart, having skipped a beat already, skipped two when Gwen gazed at him solemnly. "What if he's moved on?" She whispered.

Arthur felt as if someone had stabbed him through the heart. "No," he breathed, taking a step backwards. The thought of Merlin with anyone else, serving any other King…It filled him with an irrevocable sense of loss. He had always teased Merlin about being a bloody awful servant, but he had never before thought he'd look back at those moments and wish Merlin would return to servitude so much. "He promised me…"

"You know sometime promises have to be broken. Arthur, I'm not saying he doesn't care for us anymore, I'm saying that maybe…" Gwen gulped. "Maybe he has found a new purpose in life. Would it really be fair, if you were to find him, to take him from that purpose? He might have a wife now, a family, children…." She insisted firmly, but with kindness. Arthur shook his head,

"Then why wouldn't he bring them back to Camelot?" he demanded. "He has a home here, Gwen, he already has a purpose. He would never abandon…Us," he stated in his friend's defense. Gwen's smile wavered. A tear ran down her cheek. Thunder rumbled above.

"You mean he would never abandon you," Arthur raised his chin, daring her to contradict him. "And that's true. He hasn't, I believe he never will. He'll always be with you. Arthur, he made you," she took a few steps forward until they were only inches apart, bare foot and barely clothed, as vulnerable and defenseless against the elements as they had been against his father's strict regime.

"The love you had for each other will never fade, but if he hasn't returned by now, there must be a reason,"

"He's in trouble,"

"Or, he's moved on," Arthur wanted to drop to his knees and cry out as the truth of what Gwen was saying hit him. It could be true that Merlin had moved on, that his friend had found a better and braver King to serve under, one who did not undermine him and mercilessly taunt him as if he were not important.

As if he were no body. What if Merlin had indeed found a new purpose and a new home? Was it right for Arthur to take him from that? Was it fair to assume that he was the center of Emrys's life? Merlin had other loves, other friends…

He had a life too, and if he did not want Arthur to be part of it…

Arthur Pendragon groaned, and tasted something salty in his mouth. Without realizing it, he had collapsed to his knees on the wet cobblestone. Gwen knelt beside him as he stared ahead, at the streets Merlin had once skipped down happily.

"He has to come home. He promised me, Gwen… He promised me…" he tried to hold unto the stray pieces of belief that he still had. After five years of waiting, of searching, he was tired. So tired. Maybe Gwen was right, perhaps Merlin was truly gone.

"Oh, Arthur," his wife said softly, rubbing his back comfortingly. "He would be so proud of what you've done. He loved Camelot, and I'm sure…" The comforting words immediately came to a stop when a familiar figure came riding up in the darkness.

Arthur surged to his feet, and hurriedly wiped away any traces of tears as Sir Gwaine appeared out of the gloom. The white stallion, frisky and determined as its rider, came to a loud clopping stop before the two matriarchs. Gwaine's face was alight with relief, and to Arthur's surprise, he saw a mixture of urgency and hope in Gwaine's eyes, more than he had seen since Merlin left.

"Sire…" Gwaine's voice cracked as he hopped off his horse and quickly enveloped Gwen in a brotherly bear hug, spinning her as he laughed past his tears. Then he turned, nearly killing Arthur with his hearty shoulder claps.

"Sire… It's a miracle…Or, I suppose not really, but it is amazing how long he's held out. He has a good chance. We've kept him warm and dry, but he's still…" Arthur shoved Gwaine away before he dislocated Arthur's shoulder.

"What are you going on about, Gwaine?" he demanded of his trusted knight. Was the man drunk again?

"Merlin," Arthur's blood ran cold and he paled as Gwen gasped. "It's Merlin. He's alive. We've found him," Gwaine let a few more tears leak out.

"We found him Arthur."