It was not until dusk that he was able to bring himself to move again. Ragnarok had long since woken, and Merlin dragged the horse over, clumsily shoving Arthur's boy into the saddle. Without another thought, he took the reins and led the stallion back towards camp, Selene trotting at his heels.

As he walked, he numbly toyed with the dagger, cleaning it off and sticking it back in his belt. Maybe he would use it to kill himself, if this failed.

He made the walk back in grim silence, and eventually he was found by Gwaine, not far from the campsite.

"Thank fuck, Merlin, Lance spotted... Merlin? What—shit. You...found him." His friend's face had slipped from happy to anguished in moments. "Merlin..."

He kept walking. All day, he had felt like an observer in his own body, and it seemed as though another spoke the next words.

"I killed them."

"Killed who? Merlin? Merlin, you're kinda freakin' me out."

"The people who took Arthur."

A hand caught his shoulder, wrenching Merlin around. He realised then that he had begun to cry again.

"Shit..." A pair of warm arms found their way around Merlin's shoulders, tugging him in to a hug. "I'm sorry, Merl..."

Merlin was not sure what hurt worse, the lie or the truth. One thing he was sure of, though, was that he was not in the mood to accept comfort. He did not deserve it.

Breaking out of the hug, he tugged Ragnarok forward. "Come on. We've wasted too much time here already."

"What...what's wrong with you, Merlin?"

Merlin ignored him; it was a rhetorical question. Without another word, he led Ragnarok back to camp and, with painful care, pulled Arthur off the horse's back. Rigor mortis was fully set in by this point, and he found himself struggling with the body. The weight threw him off, and then he was falling. Strong arms caught them before he hit the ground.

"Merlin? Are you okay?" Elyan's voice asked in his ear. The tears were still falling.

If he was wrong about this...

With Elyan supporting him, Leon and Gwaine carefully extracted Arthur from his grasp, carrying him away.

"Merlin?" Morgana's voice was soft, though strained. Extracting himself from Elyan, he turned and gave her a proper hug. Her sobs were not subtle things.

"I don't mean to push you guys," Leon said slowly, coming over and rubbing Morgana's back, "but we have to go."

Carefully, Merlin extracted himself, glancing at Leon. "Gwaine said as much. What's going on?"

"Spotted a few of those...creatures a ways back, when we went out looking for the two of you. Rode back hard and started packing. Gwaine went off hoping to find you. Guess he lucked out."

Merlin finally nodded, visibly pulling himself together. A quick glance revealed that the camp was indeed mostly packed, and horses were saddled. Without a word, he turned and mounted Ragnarok.

"Are we...we still need to bury him," Gwen said slowly.

"Take him," Merlin said, his own voice sounding a touch cold to his ears. "We'll bury him further out."

"And at dawn? Merlin, if we don't bury him before dawn, he'll rise again, and it's not early," Lancelot argued. "Maybe we should ju—"

"No, he won't. The undead won't rise anymore."

"Merlin, you can't possibly know that," Leon said, frowning.

"I took care of it," he said, heeling Ragnarok into a walk and ignoring the confused looks the others sent him. Either he had to be right, or he was going to give up. There were no other options.

"Merlin..."

"Put him on a pack horse!" he finally snapped, spinning in his saddle to face the others. "I'm not asking!"

The others exchanged looks, but eventually they did as told. Good, because he was not abandoning Arthur's body to the wildlife...no matter which Arthur.

Merlin drove them hard that night, heedless of the mournings of those following him. He did not care. He had to know if his choice was the right one, or if he had ruined his own chance at happiness...and all of their lives.

By dawn, he would know.

The followed the main highway for hours, with only starlight and torches to see by. Heedless of the rumblings of his own stomach, Merlin pressed on, uncaring of his own comfort. They stopped several times to water the horses, and at some point Gwen handed him some stale bread, but beyond that, he simply rode on ruthlessly...until the isle of Avalon could be seen in the distance, though isle it was no longer.

In the dim light of predawn, he could just make out the broken spire that marked the home of the Sidhe, far in the distance. He hated it. He needed it.

The lake was gone, long since swallowed away by dense forest. Without a second thought, he reined his stallion down the slope and into the trees.

"So, are we getting close to that apothecary, Merlin?" Gwaine eventually dared, the first to try to speak to him since Gwen had insisted he eat something.

"There is no apothecary," he remarked flatly.

"So...we're here chasing a lie," Elyan said, riding up with a deep frown. "Did you even drag us here for any real reason, or is Arthur dead for no reason?"

Merlin's hands tightened on the reins, causing Ragnarok to toss his head. "You can go back anytime you want, but I intend to get exactly what we need to win this fight. I've never forced any of you to come along. So either shut up and come on, or go," he hissed.

His words were met with stunned silence. Not bothering to wait for a response, Merlin kicked Ragnarok on. Let them come or let them stay. He didn't need them, had never really needed them...

He ignored the clenching in his heart that said there was nothing in the world he wanted more than their support.

Well, nothing save Arthur.

He let out a relieved breath anyway, when he heard them move to follow. They meant more eyes to watch for danger. More bodies to protect Arthur...more...more...

Less loneliness.

"Nobody is going to abandon you," Lancelot said, riding up beside him, "we just want to know why we're here. Frankly, that's not unreasonable, Merlin, though your reaction was."

"We're here looking for a magic sword," he said flatly.

"...Merlin, I swear, I want to support you, but the lying needs to stop."

"Excalibur was given to the protection of the Lady of Lake Avalon nearly fifteen hundred years ago. I mean to get it back."

Lancelot sighed. "Merlin, I'm trying to be serious."

"I am serious. Look around you."

"What...?"

"Just do it! All of you! For once in your lives, just look!"

As they rode, the forest grew denser, but it also pulled back, clearing a path for their mounts, before falling back in behind them, masking their trail. In the underbrush, small creatures watched them pass, even one keen-eyed goblin. To their right, a troll snorted.

"What...what is this?" Morgause demanded, her normally-confident voice carrying the faintest hint of fear. "What's going on?"

"To most, this is just another forest," Merlin muttered, "because most are not permitted passage. Stay close. They will not harm you so long as I am here."

"Where is...here?" Gwen asked, her brown eyes wide.

"Avalon, the last remaining home of magic."

Nobody said anything, and Merlin was more than content to stay silent. The last time he had been down here, he had still possessed the body of an old man, shortly before Arthur's rebirth. He regretted not coming here since. He felt...marginally at peace, here, surrounded by his kin. Avalon was all they had left.

"Look, I don't wanna be a pain, but can we rest sometime? My horse keeps tripping and frankly that's the only thing keepin' me awake," Gwaine finally ventured, his tone forcibly light.

"Not yet. We have to make it to the pond before dawn."

"Why, Merlin? Do you...are you going to save Arthur?"

The question surprised him, especially coming from Morgana. "What do you mean?"

"You said he wouldn't rise, and you're...talking about magic, and you insisted we take his body. Why?"

"Because he deserves to be buried here. He should never have had to die."

Morgana said nothing more, but a glance back revealed a contemplative look on her face. Well, let her think. He had more important things to be doing.

The others whispered a little amongst themselves as they rode, but nobody brought up stopping again. It was nearly full sunrise when the light reflecting off the pond's surface drew his attention.

A far cry from the mighty lake that had once stood here, Merlin had still never been more relieved to see it. Dismounting, he led Ragnarok forward, his eyes riveted to the rock mound in the centre of the large pond. At the heart of the mound, glinting like the dragon fire from which it had been forged, sat Excalibur.

"...there's really a sword. Now we just need someone to draw it and it can really be like the Arthurian legends," Gwaine joked. A withering glance from Merlin silenced him.

"Freya!" he yelled, standing just at the edge of the pond, but not touching the water.

After a moment, the surface of the pond began to ripple, growing in strength until small waves were lapping at Merlin's boots. For a moment, Merlin felt nothing but peace and belonging.

Freya emerged from the heart of the pond, her features as beautiful and timeless as Merlin remembered them. For just a moment, he allowed himself to feel all the love and affection he had held for her so long ago.

I've missed you, Merlin, she said in Old Brittonic.

It's been too long, he agreed, sending her a warm smile. How have you been?

...we've all been better. The world forgets, Merlin, and I fear soon we will all be gone.

I will do what I can. Right now, though, magic is being used for evil. I need Excalibur.

Of course, Merlin. I've kept it safe for you and Arthur. I hope it can help you.

Thank you, Freya,

he said, stepping forward and pulling her into a hug, heedless of the water now soaking his boots. Freya returned the gesture.

Try not to stay away so long next time.

I promise,

he agreed. And then she was gone, melting back into the water.

With one last glance back at his companions, who stared on in a mixture of curiosity, wonderment, and fear, he waded out further. Though the pond got quite deep in places, easily over his head, it never passed Merlin's knees as he approached the rock. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up and onto it, scaling the rock to its peak.

Though he had kept an eye on it, Merlin had not touched Excalibur since Arthur's death. Taking a moment to mentally steel himself, he took a deep breath and reached out to touch the sword's hilt. As with all dragon-forged blades, it was warm, the fires within never allowing the steel to truly cool. Closing his eyes, he pulled it free.

The sword was lighter than one would expect, and Merlin hefted its ancient, but still familiar, weight easily. Opening his eyes, he gazed down at the blade for a long moment, then slid it into his belt alongside the dagger.

The trip back was every bit as effortless, and he did his best to ignore the wide-eyed confusion in the eyes of those watching. Instead, he turned to his mount. "We should move—"

"Merlin." Morgana did not raise her voice, but somehow her tone cut through any thought.

"Morgana."

"Where did you get that dagger?"

"From the camp where Arthur was being held." Shit. "Their leader had it."

"Tell me, Merlin...did you kill my cousin?"

The words were not as unexpected as they should have been. Morgana had always been sharp, and quick to speak her mind. Despite the gasps from the others, Merlin just let out a sigh.

"Don't make me answer that."

"It's the same dagger from my dream. Why, Merlin? Why would you...?"

"Merlin...the fuck?" Gwaine said.

"I don't expect anyone to understand, but...I do what I have to do. For my destiny," he said softly.

"No...no way, Merlin," Gwen said stubbornly, "I refuse to—there's no way you would...!"

Merlin sighed, feeling crushed under the weight of his own existence. "I'm afraid, Gwen, that you don't know me as well as you think." Very few people had ever known him very well. Very few.

Merlin fought back another sigh as Morgana drew her weapon. "You are going to explain yourself. Right. Now."

In a flash, he had drawn Excalibur, sighting down the blade as he pointed it straight at her nose. "No, I really don't think I have to." He did not have time for this! The sun was nearly up, and he needed to find Arthur! This was just another hindrance he did not need!

"You wouldn't...!" Her words told one story, her eyes another.

"Don't make me kill you," he said softly. "It's been a very long time since this sword was used, but the last person whose blood it took was Morgana Pendragon's. Please, don't make Morgana Hunter its first kill in this millennium."

"I-I..."

Merlin barely registered the crack of a shotgun, but he did register the searing-hot pain that erupted in his abdomen. Dropping Excalibur from nerveless fingers, he looked down at the blood, both old and fresh, already staining his shirt. Then his legs buckled, and he dropped like a rock.

"I...I didn't...I didn't mean to kill him!" Leon was shouting, and then Gwaine was at his side, saying...something. Merlin did not know what. Why did his mouth taste like blood?

In the distance, a horse screamed.

Merlin let his eyes drift closed, and when he opened them, it was to the sound of Arthur's welcoming voice. Not Arthur Hunter, but Arthur Pendragon, complete with chainmail and arrogant expression. Hilariously, he was riding that unicorn he had killed so long ago. Clearly, this was the other side and Arthur had come to get him. All he could feel was peace at that thought.

Merlin tried to speak, to tease him, but the words would not come. With one hand, he reached up, mouthing Arthur's name. Then his hand dropped and his eyes closed.

He knew no more.

Sorry it took so long. I really have no excuse beyond low motivation, so there it is. Hope the chapter was worth the wait!

Also, please trust me...just a little longer. There's a bigger picture, here. Promise.

Preview:

Arthur awoke.