Dear Arthur,
I had a fight with Lilly today. Lilly is the girl from the playground who lost her friends. She and I have been talking a lot lately. Or not talking. She sits down on the swings and I sit beside her and we usually swing in silence. Or we listen to music. The Smiths is usually our favourite. She's a writer and a musician and she likes all that kind of stuff. Music helps me cope with the fact I've lost you, but it doesn't make the pain bearable.
I still miss you with everything I have. Sometimes at night I still dream about you. I dream about cleaning your chambers or giving you much needed advice or scaring away all the deer on our hunting trips. I dream of calling you a dollophead and you telling me to shut up. I dream sometimes I tell you about my magic sooner or that Guinevere and Lancelot had gotten married instead of you and her and we lived in happy bliss. But I always always dream about that day you told me to hold you, and I kept you in my arms until I felt your light fade from underneath my fingertips. I'll never forget that day.
My magic still reaches out to you. I'll meet someone named Arthur or hear the name on the tip of someone else's tongue and my magic sings through my veins. It's waiting for you to come back and make me whole again. Why haven't you come back to life yet, Arthur? Your servant is here waiting for you, you prat. Come back to Albion and be the king this world deserves. I miss you. I feel you everywhere and I can't stop missing you. I can't stop fighting with my magic. I can't stop the hope that maybe next year or the next day you'll be rising from Lake Avalon and I'll be there to greet you, all smiles and ears and clumsiness that the old Merlin was. I want him back, and I want you back.
Why did you leave me, Arthur? Why haven't you been back?
Stop being a prat. Just come back. Come back and I promise I'll hold on to you forever. I'll never let you go. I promise.
Love, Merlin
