Well, first of all, I never thought it would take this long. Sadly I had to bury myself in books and burn my eyes out studying math for a week and then it was time for the last ever Talent Show before three or four tests hit me in the face. Yes, these were busy weeks. But they are over now. (Thank God!)

If you're reading this chapter and not listening to the Braveheart Soundtrack then you are doing it wrong.

Leonarema: First of all, thank you!

Well, *strokes chin.* the way I see it, Arthur's soul remained attached to Merlin's both by the recentness of his death and Merlin's frequent visits to the lake but soon enough the pain becomes too much and- probably this is true for you as it is for me- when something hurts we don't want to remember. We try to keep it away, shun it and ban it from our thoughts to try and stop the hurting. According to this overjoyed student ( graduation!) when Merlin unconsciously began doing this Arthur was cut off. However, since this is from Arthur's point of view we won't see Merlin's side till later. ;)

(And yes, that was me spluttering a bunch of touchy-feely nonsense. I'm just trying to make the reunion an unprecedented angst-fest. :D)

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
- John Keytes.

Chapter II.

Immortal Bird.

.

The fire started at midnight.

There was no warning, nothing but the all too familiar hissing of boulders set aflame, flying above and beyond the castle's walls to crash down mightily and fulfill their duty. Though the castle itself was untouched, the screams from citizens coming from the lower town told the stricken knights and he petrified Queen that peace was a dream, an unfathomable reality. It could not be.

Night became day almost too quickly and with it the looming threat of an approaching army. The thunders of war rumbled and soon a rightful fury overtook the risen King's joy. He looked on as his people were rushed inside the castle to be cared for inside the safety of the stone walls and those men that were once his knights rushed in, weary and bloodied after protecting the kingdom he loved so well.

"Guinevere," said Arthur, looking down upon it all and understanding fully the reasons for his awakening. "Gwen. What is-?"

"Odin spat over your treaty, Arthur." answered Guinevere with a sigh and she rose to her full height as well, looking down with mournful eyes. "Our men are weak, our kingdom is frail. I believe he thought this was too good an opportunity to let it pass by."

The King pursed his lips but before he could speak the door of the physician's chambers opened without a warning and Sir Leon walked in. The knight raised his gaze with a mournful sigh, preparing himself to inform his Queen of yet another loss when his eyes fell upon the extraordinary sight.

There was but a second of hesitation in which he took in what he was seeing. For the space of one heartbeat he could only stare blankly, at Arthur's pale face not knowing if he was hallucinating or dead…

"…Arthur?"

A thin smile played across the King's mature features and then, with that nod of his head that oftentimes urged the knights forward during battle, he made the illusion true.

"Leon."

And even if the soft intonation was the same his prince-King used in life Leon did not move from where he was rooted to the wooden floor. It was as if his legs were trapped by vines and his limbs were stone.

"This cannot be."

The man standing before him was a broad-shouldered warrior with pale eyes and a golden mop of hair, looking as radiant as the sun lightening his crooked smile, casting shadows upon his sturdy, stubbly face.

Guinevere, tall and mighty and younger than he'd seen her in months confirmed his thoughts. "Leon." a joyful sob. "Leon, he's back."

Later, Sir Leon would not be ashamed to say that he wept as he beheld his fallen King and brother in arms, standing there as if no time had gone by and they were still young men building a new Camelot. He fell to his knees as the bare whisper left his throat.

"My Lord!"

Arthur was there in an instant, a golden figure against the burnished sun, smiling and clapping him on his too-old forearms. "My friend. Don't kneel now, Leon."

However powerful was the plea Leon could not obey it, his knees were far too weak, trembling with pent-up emotion. And so it was Arthur who knelt by his loyal knight's side and hugged him, waiting long enough for his loyal warrior to embrace him too and cry on his shoulder before holding him at arm's length.

"My Lord…" the knight repeated, as if he could not say it enough. "My Lord…"

"I'm here Leon." was what his King whispered with a soft smile. "I'm here."

Leon felt the sting of hot tears on his eyes when he demanded an explanation for such a miracle, "How?..." and he couldn't help but smile when Arthur declared openly,

"I am needed now, Leon." The King's voice was unlike anything Leon had ever heard, the assurance and light that brightened his pale eyes was otherworldly.

Leon had never seen something as wonderful in his entire life.

"You were always needed my Lord." said the loyal knight, wiping the track of tears away. "Always."

Yet Arthur's smile faltered as those light, wise eyes settled on the blood that stained Leon's chainmail. "Now more than ever, it seems." he said. "Are you hurt, old friend?"

He was quick to shake his head for his tongue felt too heavy to form words and ease his King's- Arthur's….Arthur's!- mind.

"Then whose is it Leon?"

It was Guinevere, of course, who asked the question. It was Guinevere who placed a hand on her loyal friend's shoulder and looked deep into his eyes, knowing and almost beseeching him to speak the truth.

"It is not mine." Leon said gravely. "I don't know whose it is but probably from those hurt during Odin's attempt at a siege."

And even though the news weighed heavily on Sir Leon's soul there was hope in his eyes and strength in his voice. Arthur was that hope. He was that courage that inflamed everyone's hearts.

"The army is advancing then." The Queen raised her chin with newborn defiance. "How far are they?"

There was a moment of silence before Leon answered.

"To reach the center of our lands will take them about two days Gwen."

The Queen stood straighter than before, as tense as a taut arrow ready to leave its bow. But then her beautiful eyes once again found her King, taking solace on the fact that, apart from the rightful anger present in Arthur's eyes ( eyes he closed after glancing down at his people), there was nothing in his features that detonated worry.

She knew that Arthur was not only her beloved husband and gentle king but something more- something deep and ancient and never understood. Something that she had only caught glimpses of throughout the years.

He was the Once and Future King of a prophesized reign, a being born of magic and for magic, a man that now held within a knowledge and wisdom that made his eyes blaze with deep azure fire. If she closed her eyes and held her breath she could see, as clear as she saw Arthur's glorious face, the words scribbled down by men that had seen what she had lived, words that had held her together in times she would've fallen apart.

Quondam et futuris rex

Altus rex Britanniae..

She turned again when Gaius spoke, using his cane to stop by her side.

"You mean if they do, Sir Leon." said the ancient physician with a knowing smile.

But no grin filled Sir Leon's lips and thus the smile fell from Gaius' face as quickly as it had flourished.

"They were able to get past the first two yards, Gaius." Leon's voice held plain disbelief. "I don't know how. But they did."

Raising his eyes to meet Leon's the physician could not stop his heart from shaking when he read in the depths of them what Leon was implying.

But before Gaius could negate it with all of his might, before Guinevere's hands were clasped together as she grasped the message hidden in Leon's words- Arthur's eyes opened and revealed once more his resurrected irises. He turned towards them and it was as if his every movement reflected the sun born light.

Rubbing with his thumbs the worn neckerchief and sighing as if his heart exhaled from within, the Once and Future King bored with his eyes those of his loyal knight, physician and beloved Queen.

"Is there any chance we might be victorious, Leon?"

As if by his words Arthur's sun-like presence reminded everyone of a hope long lost Leon's solemn face smoothed over and a smile took the place of his frown. He stumbled with his words, with the true joy and new promise they announced. But even so his hands trembled when he reached over to place his palm over his King's once cold and dead shoulder.

"With you there is sire!" he assured his King with effortless sincerity. "With you we can win, Arthur. With you we can win any battle. I am certain of it."

Though Arthur opened his mouth to say something Leon's heart was already leaping with something akin to renewed youthfulness. Here was his King, alive and well, so that he could-

"Lead us into battle again, Arthur." He said as he knelt before the Once and Future King, looking up with the faithful gaze of the young knight he had once been. "Give us hope with your roar of courage, my King. Arthur…guide us towards victory-"

Arthur's hand on his aging head stopped him though, and when Leon looked up towards those light eyes that he would've followed into the mouth of hell he found himself speechless- for Arthur was shaking his head with a thin smile.

"I cannot, old friend." he said softly, with a smile that was slowly dying and eyes that were growing paler by the second. "It wouldn't be possible. Yes, I know now…not without- not without Merlin by my side."

There was a moment of sire before Leon's eyes- wide and beginning to shine with comprehension- found Guinevere's.

"M-Merlin sire?" he asked, almost timidly though he was had never been shy around Arthur before.

Arthur noticed it.

"What is it, Leon?"

"Sire." the knight climbed to his feet and sighed. "You do know that Merlin has not been seen for more than a decade, right?"

Arthur's eyes darkened and his lips formed a thin line as if the thought alone was enough for his worse fears to resurface.

"I believe…" came Gaius' soothing voice. "…that we might have a solution to that problem in...Arthur."

Arthur turned towards him faster than any of them, placing both of his hands on his dear physician's forearms. All of the desolation once present on his face was gone, as if it had never been.

"Is there a way?" he said with an unconcealed tremor in his voice. "Is there really, Gaius?"

Gaius' eyes were full of hope and light as well, mirroring his King's as he nodded and took a few unsteady steps so that he could place his wobbly hand on Arthur's broad chest, right above his beating pulse.

"Right here, my King." The old physician choked up as he spoke and though he was smiling wider than Leon had seen in a long time his eyes were already glimmering with tears. "I've seen Merlin use his heart to make his way back to you more times than what you would ever believe."

"I believe it, Gaius." whispered the Once and Future King, placing his strong hand on Gaius' own.

"There is no reason why you cannot do it too." Gaius' voice was almost too low to hear. When he looked right into Arthur's eyes the King could see the tears beginning to leak at the hope of seeing his ward once again. "Sire, things always have a reason for being. You being here…might mean Merlin can come back to us after all."

As Guinevere placed her soft hand in his and Leon stepped closer Arthur smiled. Though there were still shadows of an emptiness that could not be understood they were being slowly chased away and the Once and Future King's heart beat strongly with an unspoken promise.

"Guinevere." he raised his eyes to meet his wife's loving gaze and kissing her hand asked for what his soul was yearning too, as if the half of him that was Merlin's was already guiding his steps towards his lost warlock. "What else is left of Merlin?"

While he clutched the neckerchief tightly against his heart Guinevere's hand squeezed his and she said. "I think there is something you need to see, Arthur." she paused for a moment, smiling gently. "But we might need to find a cloak first. You were none-existent a few hours ago, my love."

When she handed him the very same worn blue cloak that he'd wore during his time as a young inexperienced King a fist closed around the King's heart.

'You almost got me killed in there.' (1) he could remember it with painful clarity. Not for the first time he wondered why he had not said what was truly in his heart.

'You almost got yourself killed in there.'

There were so many things that he should've acknowledged. And as Guinevere's loving hands tied the cloak around his shoulders he wished that Merlin would've seen what was hidden beneath all of his pride.

'Just don't do it again.'

He did not even noticed when he repeated it softly, just for himself. A prayer sent for Merlin, wherever he might be. 'Don't do it again. Just wait for me.'

Eve though Guinevere walked before him Arthur didn't need her gentle guidance to make his way towards the end of the vaults, where Uther had once stored-hidden- every magical artifact that ever fell into his hands. As a boy, Arthur had been weary of entering the catacomb-like tunnels that guided him further and further away from what he loved and into the unknown, because he knew that if he walked in a straight line until the light of his torch was dim and the beating of his heart was quick, thrumming against his neck, he would reach a place in which air fluttered with the very substance he'd learned to hate.

But there had always been magic in the heart of Camelot. There had always been magic in Arthur's own. There had always been Merlin's heartbeat beating alongside Arthur's.

This time he did not hesitate when His beloved Queen halted and looked at the cavernous entrance of Uther's best guarded secret but pressed on with a the same fast pulse...though this time there was no fear but only hope.

"I left everything untouched after I discovered it." Gwen explained quickly, squeezing her King's hand once more before she let go to open the lock with the key that only she possessed. "I thought that it would be safer that way."

"As always, you were right Guinevere." Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder, holding the torch high so that the light spread around. "Thank you, my love."

No one moved- no one but him. With careful feet he climbed down the ancient steps and ran his fingers through the protruding rock until he found the carved path, about knee-high, that ran throughout the socketed chambers.

And then, with a soft glance at Gaius and Leon, he found the thread of oil running through the hollow rock and submerged the torch in the viscous liquid.

As if it was a mesmerizing act of the magic present around them the flames climbed higher and became brighter, flowing smoothly, zigzagging along the path it had been given, and illuminating everything as it went. Radiance and light filled the hollow chambers that Arthur had learned to fear.

Untouched, unmarred- as perfect as when they had been snatched from the hands of sorcerers and druids to be locked away forevermore- there were objects that Gaius had thought lost, things that Leon had never dreamed with, scrolls in which Guinevere had found solace. There were cups and goblets used by sorcerers unmarked in life as in death, wooden horses and wooden dragons that were once of value to druid children that never got to be adults, life-giving medicine that a heartbroken Uther had cruelly declared poison.

The fire traveled throughout the path already given and at last stopped with a glimmer of warmth-giving light. Yet it was the thing that hung above it what called to the Once and Future King with such insistence that once his eyes found it his breath was stolen away.

He was not aware- not aware of Guinevere calling his name with a parchment in her hand, not hearing Gaius' sighs of delight as he shook dust from things that belonged to a buried and distant past, nor Leon's surprise at discovering a golden bow among the silver spears- for a second, time stood still.

Arthur wondered if Uther ever knew what he'd hung up with abhorrence in the cold stone of his catacombs in hopes of shunning away every last remnant of magic.

Before him there was a piece of embroidery with fading colors and blurring inscriptions. Hands had made it, long before he was born, to make people smile with its meaning, to make children stare up in awe at the solemn figures represented in its stitches. For there was a golden lion gazing proudly at the lionhearted King, holding its head high as its paws rested firmly above blurring marks that were the language of the Old Religion.

He did not need to know the lost language to understand its meaning for the words were engraved in his soul before his birth.

The Once and Future King.

Arthur exhaled softly, brushing his thumb through worn threads of gold and red, of words whispered before his time, of hopes held within each of the careful seams, of knowledge thrust upon very few.

Tracing the lion's mane he felt his heart aflame with courage and willingness to fight for his beloved people. He was silent as he placed his palm atop the golden fabric and bowed his head so that he could remember for years to come the uninvited hope so many had placed on him.

It was after he raised his eyes again towards the ancient piece of embroidery that his gaze found the falcon, silent and watchful, resting its silver claws on the Lion's heavily muscled forelimb.

He knew what it was instinctively but nevertheless his heart jolted on his chest.

"A merlin." murmured the Once and Future King with reverence.

This time his hand shook when he reached to touch the gold and bronze beak with the softest section of his fingertips. The falcon's eyes were cold steel, boring into his, and Arthur could feel his heart stutter painfully inside him. He wondered if Merlin would look at him with the same lifeless indifference.

He wondered if he could bear it.

Arthur couldn't look away for a long moment. The tip of his fingers were white where they pressed themselves to the platinum bird, as if in the small contact he hoped to find something left of his dear friend.

When he finally pulled his gaze from the tender work he found that there was a tear carving a lonely path down his cheek.

"Arthur?" His beloved wife placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to face her frowning face. "Arthur, are you alright?"

With one last longing glance at the falcon he answered. "Perhaps we should go to Ealdor."

(1) Quote from 4x05, His Father's Son.

This was meant to be longer and I was supposed to read through it but Pre Calculus calls with its gloomy sounds of DOOM and I have to go slam my forehead against my Blitzer volume. Sorry for any inconsistencies and/or typos in here! :)

Gosh, I've got to do this too. ErinNovelist is doing it and so is Oz and thanks to both of them I've found really wonderful fics that I would've never ever stumbled across...I figured I would contribute with my little grain of sand. ;)

rockpaperscissor's "Two Days"- I don't know if its the sheer tenderness seeping from her every word or the pure, heartfelt emotion but this is definetly, hands down, one of the BEST reincarnation One-shots I've read. And I've read plenty. That fic has a dear place in my heart. And if you're up for a serious tear-jerking evening then check out Oz's Something More ( I'm still not over it. It's too beautiful.) after reading that. Yep, just go drown in angst.

I hope to see you soon, beautiful people!

Love, as always,

Ocean.