Merlin entered the hospital room warily, cringing slightly at the cold sterility of the environment. Indescribable relief surged through him as Arthur turned his head to greet him. Although he was still a bit pale and tired, Arthur's expression was clear, he was sitting upright, and best of all, Merlin could see his king in the blue eyes that now looked at him. Suddenly uncertain of what to say, Merlin closed the door and shuffled awkwardly. Fortunately for him, Arthur spoke first.

"Is it safe for us to talk?" he asked cautiously. Understanding his friend's concern, Merlin turned to the door he had closed moments earlier. His eyes glowed briefly, and for a split second the door frame glowed the same gold before returning to normal. Turning back to Arthur, he nodded.

"Soundproofing spell. No one outside this room can hear what we say," he explained briefly. Arthur hesitated for a minute. Misreading his hesitation as discomfort with the magic, Merlin flinched away. Arthur noticed this slight movement and rolled his eyes.

"Merlin," he said, the eye-rolling evident even in his voice. At that all-too-familiar exasperated summons, Merlin couldn't suppress his grin. Damned if I haven't missed that, he thought affectionately. When he turned to face Arthur again, he was relieved to see a slight smile spreading across the blond man's face. "Honestly. D'you really think that would still bother me? Idiot!" he said, but with the affectionate smile on his face that betrayed his genuine pleasure at seeing his best friend. Before Merlin could react, he had reached out to lightly hit Merlin over the head, ruffling his hair in the process. Merlin only half-heartedly tried to slap Arthur's hands away, delighted at the playful reaction he had missed for centuries.

A moment later, though, Arthur's face turned serious and his voice took on the more formal and regal speech of the king he had been. "But, Merlin. I believe you have some explaining to do, old friend. How am I here? And Guinevere? Are there any others in this time and place? Tell me what has happened...please," he added, a slightly confused look barely diminishing the kingly air that had once again settled upon his features. Merlin nodded, pulling his chair up close to Arthur's bedside and preparing to tell him everything.

"All right. It's a long story. But it begins just after you...just after you died. It begins at the lake of Avalon."


"My God," Arthur breathed, trying to take in everything his former servant had told him, as Merlin sat back, weary from telling the admittedly emotional story. One thought that occurred to Arthur stood out from the others. "Merlin," he said, calling his friend's attention back to him, "I'm so sorry. For all those years, all that waiting. You must have been so alone. And while I'm grateful for what you have done, while I cannot express how glad I am that you did it, for that I am truly sorry," he spoke gently, clapping Merlin on the shoulder in an attempt at a gesture to remind him he wasn't alone anymore.

"I did it for you, Arthur. Well, for the others too. But I never said I'd stop protecting you if you died. So I did what I could for you- like I always have," Merlin looked up, and the two men shared a long look that said all that needed to be said. Clearing his throat, Arthur changed the subject.

"So- Gwen- how much does she know? You said she's been awake for a while and that you tried to bring us together- again, I might add. Does she know that I know now?" he asked curiously. Merlin shook his head. "Then let me tell her. Send her in here, and let me be the one to tell her. Alright?" With another nod of assent, Merlin got up and headed to bring Gwen in. Arthur called to him as he was about to leave. "Merlin? Turns out you really were the bravest of us all." With a smile of understanding and gratitude, Merlin opened the door and sent Gwen in.

"Arthur? Oh my God, Arthur! How are you feeling?" Gwen exclaimed, hurrying to Arthur's bedside. She was so absorbed in fussing over him that she didn't notice the brief golden glow on the door (but Arthur did, and he smiled). He captured one of her hands in his.

"Gwen. I'm fine, really I am." She paid him no mind but continued to mutter under her breath about pillows and medicines. "Gwen," he tried again as she pulled away to move to the other side of his bed. "Guinevere!" he finally said, reaching out to seize her wrist again. Gwen's heart leapt into her throat. I yelled at him, told him to be kinder to the people of Ealdor. That was the first time he said my full name. Just like that, too. Trying to stay calm, she turned to look at Arthur, who was smiling slyly where he lay. "Guinevere," he repeated, caressing each syllable. God, how I've missed hearing him say my name. You'd think after all this time, it wouldn't have this effect on me anymore. But it always does.

"Arthur?" she asked, tentatively placing her other hand on top of his. Arthur smiled at her, the gentle, boyish smile he only had for her.

"Please, my lady, forgive me. Coming home to you took a little longer than I expected, wife," he said, in the soft tones she recognized immediately.

"Arthur! Oh, my lord, oh how I've missed you!" Heedless of any queenly demeanor, she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around him and held him as close as she could. Laughing, he hugged her back, pressing a kiss into her dark hair, then wincing when she bumped into his wound.

"Careful, love," he cautioned gently. Gwen hastily loosened her hold.

"Sorry. It's just... I'm afraid if I let you go I'll lose you again. And I couldn't bear that. Arthur smiled and pulled her close again, careful to keep space between her and the wound that still ached.

"I'm not going anywhere. My wise, wonderful, kind, brave queen. I will never leave you again."


In the living room of his spacious home, a man with curly light brown hair had just turned on his TV when a sudden jolt shook him, causing him to involuntarily stumble onto his couch. A few moments later, he was able to relax and let out a deep breath, exhausted by the onslaught of memories. On the evening news, he was horrified to see a breaking news story that a Parliamentary candidate, the son of a prominent political family, had been shot. Grabbing his cell phone, he dashed out the door and hailed a taxi.

In a small office building, a dark-skinned man was finally heading home for the night after an exceptionally long day reviewing all sorts of strategies and statistics. Just as he reached to turn off the lights, his whole body tensed up and he had to grab the back of a chair to stay relatively steady. When the world righted itself again, he had many thoughts running through his head, but one stood out most of all. My sister.

In a jovial, warmly lit pub, a man with long hair lazily sat at the bar, nonchalantly sipping his drink and making casual conversation with the bartender. As a sudden flood tore through his mind, only his natural calm helped him hide the enormous change taking place within his mind from the people around him. With a sudden clarity of purpose, he got up- the first time he'd ever abandoned a drink- and headed towards the exit. He was in such a rush that he accidentally bumped into a dark-haired man sitting at a high-top table nearby.

"Whoa, sorry, mate," he apologized to the young man as he dashed by.

"That's alright, don't worry about it," the other man replied, a slightly surprised expression on his face and a distinctly Welsh accent. The long-haired man didn't even spare him a glance as he hurried out the door.

In a small flat, a tall, muscular man was just climbing into bed when an electric jolt laid him flat on his back. As the pain in his head subsided, he couldn't help breaking into a smile as he rolled over to finally get some sleep after a long day.

In an art gallery, a tanned and handsome man was meandering through an exhibit of fiber art. He liked art as much as anyone, but really he was hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful blonde assistant curator he had seen at the gallery many times. Pausing before one work of art, he smiled, knowing it was hers. Most of the other pieces were very abstract, even harsh, but not this one. This piece was gentle, thoughtful, and dreamlike depictions of beautiful lilies. As a sudden rush of memories poured into his mind, he was able to stand straight with no indication of what was happening other than the suddenly tense lines in his face. Looking again at the lily piece, he sighed and headed for the door. There were more important things at hand.

So now everyone's awake! Hope you liked the little conversations in the hospital- I enjoyed writing them. What did you think of the others' awakenings? There were two main clues in there as to what's coming, including a part of Arthurian legend I plan to use that the show never did. Guesses? I'm curious if anyone picked up on them. Thanks again for the wonderful reviews, and my deepest appreciation to every single reader!

~C