AN: I watched seasons 1 to 4 when they first aired and loved them but for some reason I've only just got around to watching season 5. And man, that ending? It's a killer but I loved it. Anyway, this is just a little something that popped into my head. Enjoy.
It catches him one nondescript day at the beginning of the twenty-first century, as he's walking by the lake. The only thing remarkable about it perhaps is that it reminds him of the day he lost Arthur, a grey sky and soft summer rain.
He can still see it like it was yesterday, Arthur's strength leaving him, replaced by something softer and more tender in those final hours. He can still feel it too, Arthur's body heavy in his lap, hand clasping his neck. He can hear the laboured breathing, smell the rain in his blonde hair, taste the salt on his feverish brow.
And it all hits him at once, washes over him, squeezes the air out of his lungs, crushes him under its weight.
Arthur, the once and future king, was supposed to come back, so Merlin waited. And waited. And waited.
Since Arthur's death there had been many calls for a great king, but never one that deemed Arthur's resurrection necessary apparently.
He'll be back when he's needed.
Merlin drops to his knees, felled by the absence of Arthur, by his insurmountable grief. He has been so very alone for so very long now.
He casts his gaze over the rippling water of the lake, fingers biting into its muddy shore. A pulse of pain surges through him.
"I need you," he heaves over the water's unyielding surface, his voice holding a rawness it hasn't in many years. The ripples intensify for a moment and his heart skips a beat, but they lap back to their usual state, and he lets the hope go.
Arthur is gone and he isn't coming back.
He lays there on the lakeshore for hours, letting his fingers dabble in the cold water, knowing that this will be the last time he'll see these waters in a while. This time he means to go, to leave Arthur behind, a least for a while, just to give himself a break. He thinks Arthur would approve, he had offered to give him two whole days off after all.
He smiles a sad, wistful smile and hauls himself up. The sky has long since grown dark, and he trudges home.
He lives in a little cottage close to the lake and has done so ever since he lost Arthur. There were times he thought about leaving, but he'd never been able to bring him himself to go. He had belonged by Arthur's side, but maybe it was finally time to accept that Arthur was gone.
He cleans himself up, eats a small supper and packs a bag. The ageing spell has become part of his attire, as surely as his coat, but he lets that go too. It was a way to use useless magic, and a disguise that allowed him to pass through the world unhassled. No one bothers with old men.
He glances in the mirror one last time. He looks more like himself, feels more like himself, as he adjusts the bag strap over his shoulder, and prepares himself mentally to finally leave his destiny behind.
"This is it," he tells his wide-eyed reflection. "You've served him long enough."
"That's a pity," Arthur's voice replies, as clearly as if he was standing in the room. "Good servants, even bad ones for that matter, are hard to come by." And that's how Merlin knows he's made the right decision, that the time has come to let it all go.
"I see your manners haven't improved any. Aren't you going to say hello?"
It's a delusion, it has to be, but that doesn't stop his heart almost hammering out of his chest as he slowly turns, finding himself face to face with the once and future king.
Arthur looks exactly the same, so regal and strong and beautiful. Blonde hair, blue marbled eyes, sharp, elegant angles.
Tears spring to Merlin's eyes, to say that he has been waiting a long time for this doesn't even begin to describe it.
"You always did leave at the most inappropriate moments, Merlin."
He drops his bag and launches forward, flinging himself into Arthur's arms. Arthur catches him with a grunt, and when Merlin squeezes the king, he squeezes back, and Merlin grins like he hasn't in over a thousand years.
It's impossible to put any of it into words and he ends up producing some undignified noises that are halfway between rapturous laughter and sobs of relief.
One thing he is sure of is that he can't let go now, so he squeezes Arthur as tightly as he can.
It's a pat on his back and Arthur's wheezing voices that breaks them apart.
"Alright, Merlin. That's enough."
He leans back, idiot grin still plastered across his face, hands moving of their own accord to frame Arthur's face. He drinks it all in, every detail of that handsome face, pretty eyes, sharp cheeks, plump, red lips. Arthur was and is the most beautiful thing Merlin has ever seen.
A curious little smile curls the king's lips.
"What?"
And still Merlin has no words, so he answers the only way he can, by surging forward and crushing his own mouth against those plush lips.
Arthur stiffens but Merlin doesn't give up, this can't be one-sided, it's destiny, they were meant for each other. It only takes a second, and then Arthur's arms fold around him, crushing him close. They both moan at the same moment, letting go of long-held tension, and the kiss becomes open-mouthed, a desperate, feverish thing that has been a millennium and a half in the making.
It's rough and blunt and needy, everything they have always been with each other.
When they part to suck in some air, their eyes meet, Arthur's sparkling with mirth, and neither of them can think of a single thing to say, so it's laughter that fills the space between them. And it's like no time has passed at all, the bond between them feels as solid and vital as it did on that fateful day so long ago.
"I've missed you," Merlin sighs.
"Have you?" Arthur teases. "I never would have guessed."
Merlin's smile impossibly widens, having Arthur back is everything he dreamed, it's the only thing he dreamed.
Arthur glances around, taking in the modest surrounds.
"Have you been here all this time?"
"Yes."
"How long has it been?"
"A long time."
"Yes," Arthur says, hands on hips, exasperated. Merlin could cry with joy over the fact that Arthur is teasing him alone, nevermind all the other reasons he has to be monumentally happy right now. "I gathered that."
"More than a thousand years."
Arthur's eyes dart back to his, surprised by that.
"You've been here that long?"
He can't really be shocked, can he?
"Where else would I go, Arthur? I love you. I always have. After you were gone, there was nothing left for me. My destiny was only ever you."
Arthur gives him a soft smile.
"Truly Merlin, you never cease to amaze me."
He smiles again and leans forward, pressing it to Arthur's full lips, sliding his hands around Arthur's waist.
"That sounds like a challenge."
Arthur pulls him in tighter, so their bodies are pressed flush together.
"Go on then..." the king encourages, and Merlin complies, giving Arthur a cheeky smile.
"Come to bed with me."
Arthur chokes in surprise, and Merlin grins victoriously. An order is an order after all.