AN: I know it took me almost 10 years to complete... but here it is. The final installment. If you stuck with me all this time, thank you thank you thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I hope you enjoy this finale, and as I said, please check out the new version on AO3 (OneLineintheSand, Modern Legend). It has edits and improvements that tightened up plot holes and added context and richness to a few characters. :)

"Look sharp, Mordred." The camera panned from the crowd of people moving away from the dinner tables to Leon, smiling as he passed by the cameraman. "We're turning off the lights shortly."

"I'm ready." Mordred's voice responded from behind the camera.

"What does he mean?" a woman's voice asked.

"You'll see." The camera turned back towards the table. People were milling around as food was cleared away and chairs were moved, making room in the center of the space for dancing.

"Isn't she Emrys' mother?" Hunith was greeting Arthur as he got up. He put an arm around her, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek before turning to give Gwen a hug.

"She's really close with Arthur. Has been since he was young." Mordred turned the camera slightly as chairs were moved to leave extra space in the center underneath the lights. "There's Iseldir. You've met him."

"Only once," she said.

"And that's Mithian Rodor." He turned towards the young woman beside Iseldir, laughing at something Percival on her other side was saying.

"You know all of them well…?" A pause followed the woman's question.

"Fairly well. I don't usually see them all together like this. Not in a long time."

"Is that the dragon lord?" his companion suddenly brightened.

"Balinor," Mordred confirmed as Hunith stopped by his chair with a hand on his shoulder while Arthur and Gwen left the table. "He lived on the outskirts of our neighborhood. I used to bring him groceries. We see him a lot more since he met Merlin."

"Are we allowed to call Emrys that?" The woman's voice was soft.

"Oh, he prefers it." The camera turned abruptly around towards the voice. "Kara, you can come meet them, you know. They don't bite." The young woman ducked her head and tucked a loose light-brown curl back behind her ear.

"I don't know. They're…"

"Important?" Mordred shifted, and the camera angle wobbled as he reached out for her arm. "Come on. They're all very down to earth. They'll like you! Who wouldn't?"

"Mordred." She was blushing, but laughing as she gently batted the camera away with her hand. "Maybe not now. They're about to dance… look!" Mordred turned around. Hunith was stepping around the table to join Merlin. Just beyond him, Freya, dressed in a deep green dress, was helping Gwen to bustle her train as Lance took her drink. Gwen was laughing at Merlin beside her, who had a lively grin on his face. The camera turned back to Kara who waved him away.

"Go!" she urged. The view wobbled a little as Mordred stepped out into the open space between tables. Freya had retreated back to Merlin's side.

Arthur met Gwen, taking her hands in the middle of the open space, and the lights suspended above the floor flickered out. A few hushed voices murmured. Then high above the dance floor, a myriad of tiny lights flickered to life—small flames, as if they were dancing atop a sea of candles. Beside the camera, Kara drew in a soft breath of awe. The little flames began to dance, swirling into a spiral that rotated above the floor, then they melded into one long stream of flickering flame and curled up into the sky, taking the shapes of the couple, holding one another close as they turned together in a dance. The bright outlines of the couple shimmered away into lines that formed three small dragons which circled over the dance floor then swooped down, dancing just out of reach of guests who stretched out their hands. A ripple of soft noises responded to the display, then the three dragons soared up into the air and burst in lively, colorful blooms of fireworks.

Amid the guests, a dozen different little mage lights shimmered to life, soft yellow orbs that glowed bright until the dance floor was lit. The camera turned as the space grew bright again, and a scattering of cheers and claps responded to the display as Mordred's camera found Merlin across the space. He was grinning a little shyly. His eyes shifted back to their usual blue, and he held his hands up, cupped underneath his mouth. He turned, opening them, and beside him Freya laughed as she accepted a deep red rose from his palms. Someone whistled playfully behind him, and Merlin's cheeks turned red as Arthur laughed nearby.

"Number thirty-eight." Arthur looked up from the video on his phone screen.
"That's me." He grabbed the clear bag sitting beside his chair and headed for a locker to stash his phone.

"Arthur." The security guard gave him a smile as he passed his bag up for inspection. "How's the wife?"

"Busy." He extended his arms to allow the usual checks. "She's got a flight to Australia in two weeks."

"More legislation?" the guard asked, peering through the bag before handing it back on the other side of the screening.

"Always. They're building a new set of sorcery laws. Gwen's there to show them how it's done."

"Without you?"

"This time." He shrugged as his bag passed through the scanner. "She doesn't need me along. She does the real work. I just write about it."

"I'll look forward to your article." The guard passed Arthur his bag. "Wish her safe travels for me."

"Will do. Good to see you, George." Arthur gathered his bag and headed for the door past security.

The visiting room was noisy some days. Today it was relatively empty, only a handful of tables already occupied by inmates and their visitors.

"They had your favorite this time," he said as he reached his table, passing a bottle of Fanta across it.

"Thank god. I can't believe they were out of that the last two times." Morgana snagged it right away, and her eyes lit up as he spread the other snacks he'd procured out on the table. "You're the best."

"I try." He set his bag down as she enjoyed the first sip of her drink.

"You haven't mailed me your article on Japan yet," Morgana pointed out, leaning back.

"First elected sorcerer?" Arthur took the seat across from her, resting his arms on the table. "Sorry. It only got published last week. I'll get you a copy with my next letter. Been working on the Australia updates since then," he said. "And they're trying to get me working on some domestic articles about local discrimination."

"Aren't there other writers for that?" Morgana glanced up. Arthur shrugged.

"Sure. But it might be a welcome change. I've been writing mostly on international sorcery news for a while. Might be nice to pivot. There are a lot of issues we need to iron out here at home too." She nodded.

"Merlin's still helping you with those?"

"Freya more so lately. Merlin's been busy the last couple months working on exams and the medical licensure. He's had a moment to breathe now he's passed those." He paused. "He couldn't make it out to visit this month. Said to send his apologies." Morgana pursed her lips.

"Freya?" she asked as she rested her arms on the table.

"Well…" he hesitated.

"It's alright. I know she doesn't like him visiting. She's got every reason not to like me."

"She didn't like me either at first," Arthur pointed out. "She's very protective of Merlin."

"Someone has to be. He doesn't protect himself enough," Morgana commented wryly. Arthur huffed.

"Freya's more than up to the task. She's formidable enough on her own, even without her horse sized dragon."

"She's that big now?"

"I'd bring you a picture, but Freya wouldn't allow it," he said. Social media for Aithusa was tightly controlled. "But that's not why. It's…" Arthur paused. "Merlin's preparing something for her." A little smile tugged at Morgana's lips.

"Is he finally going to ask?" she prompted. Arthur lifted his shoulders and made a gesture as if 'zipping' his lips. She snickered. "I'll believe it when I see a ring."

"It's possible he's already got one." Arthur grinned and she shook her head.

"What changed?"

"Merlin finally got a job locked down further north, where the dragons will be more comfortable. They'll be moving in two months."

"That soon?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Things just fell into place," Arthur said. "Everyone's moving on. Mordred got approved to start on his postgraduate training."

"On top of his caseload?"

"Kid's dedicated." Arthur grinned. Mordred was hardly a 'kid' anymore, at twenty-four. He had the same demeanor he'd always had, from the day Arthur met him as a solemn eight year old, but over the years, some of the seriousness gave way a little more to that youthful excitement Arthur had seen from time to time at Dartmoor. "There aren't a lot of Social Workers equipped to handle children with magic," he added. "Mordred's always busy with those cases. But he likes the work." She smiled, leaning back again.

"Tell them both congratulations for me."

"You'll get a chance. You and Mordred still talk, right?" A brief smile crossed Morgana's face.

"Now and then… he's more careful these days," she said. Poor Mordred hadn't had the easiest start. Arthur nodded.

"Well, Merlin said he'd call if he can't visit before he moves." She pursed her lips. Arthur knew the visits from Merlin were few and far between. Morgana was right. Freya still held some suspicion towards her. She'd been quick to argue against Morgana as it came to light that Arthur's sister had helped Morgause try to remove Merlin's magic. That history would take time and patience to overcome.

"And yourself…?" Morgana changed the subject. "You said you had news." Arthur grinned.

"You want to guess?"

"You've developed a third brain cell?" Morgana raised an eyebrow.

"Hilarious." Arthur shook his head as he reached under the table for the clear bag he'd brought along. "Here. I brought something for you." He put a leather-bound book down in front of her. Morgana raised an eyebrow.

"Am I allowed to have that?"

"Got it approved before I came in," Arthur said, pushing it gently towards her. "We had a bunch of photos printed for our third anniversary. Gwen helped me put it together for you." She reached for it, tracing her fingers along the edges. "Open it. There's a surprise at the end," he prompted. She looked up at him, eyebrows raised, but turned to the last page as directed.

"You found out?" she asked as a smile spread across her face.

"A girl." He leaned back in his chair as Morgana looked at the sonogram image.

"It's starting to feel real, hm?" He tucked his arms across his chest, and she looked back up at him. "Are you ready?"

"Ha." He laughed weakly. "Not sure I'll ever be. Gwen's… she's amazing. Even with all the planning for her Australia trip, she's been reading baby books and making lists. I'm… mostly just trying not to panic." The corners of Morgana's eyes creased in amusement.

"Arthur, you'll be fine," she said. He lifted his shoulders.

"We didn't exactly have a great role model for parenting."

"Lots of people don't." She tapped the page in front of her gently. "That doesn't mean you can't be a great dad. You've got a good example of what not to do for starters." A smile tugged fleetingly at his lips.

"That's a bit of a low bar," he said.

"You'll do a great job," she insisted firmly.

"How can you be so sure?" He pulled a face. Morgana leaned on the table, looking steadily back at him.

"Because you care, and she'll know it. Arthur, you're going to make mistakes. Lots of them. But you'll apologize and grow from them, just as you always have." He turned his gaze on the table again and took a breath.

"I'll try."

"Of course you will." She reached across the table to squeeze his wrist. "And if you're in doubt, you can seek out help. It might bring up some stuff for you. Freya probably knows a few counselors taking patients. Couldn't hurt for either of us."

"You think so?" He chuckled. "We're that messed up?"

"Without a doubt." She grinned, and he shook his head at her. "We've got baggage, but I don't mean it that way. I know what it takes to heal from the grievances we inherited. I know you've been working on that these past years. It might be something you come back for… a sort of checkup every now and then. Maybe it's less about finding a cure and more an ongoing process. You keep learning the areas where you need help and acknowledging it. Going back for more counseling isn't admitting you failed. It's just admitting that your own need for support, and that you need to keep working on yourself." He was quiet for a moment as she turned her gaze on the photo again.

"There you go." He smiled again. "You always were the smarter one of us." Morgana shook her head.

"For all the good that did me," she mused. Arthur reached over to turn the pages back to the beginning.

"Did me a lot of good," he offered. She carried the guilt heavily, and nothing more heavily than what had happened to Mordred. He was the reason she'd turned herself in quietly after the results of the first new election. "You and Merlin keep me humble." He touched the book lightly. "The guards said you can keep this, and I'll bring you more pictures of the little one soon." Her brows drew down, and she looked for a long moment at it.

"I'll still be here when she's born."

"True… but you've only got fifteen months left. You'll be out before she's talking, ready to take her to the park and buy her ice creams." She ran her fingers along the edge of the plastic-bound pages, quiet for a moment.

"I'm not sure I'll fit in with everyone anymore."

"It'll be different," Arthur agreed. "But Merlin and Gwen will welcome you, and so will I. We'll figure it out together." She was still looking down. He smiled a bit. "I can't promise that Freya won't try to have her dragon eat you, though." Morgana looked up with a laugh.

"Aithusa might actually be big enough to eat me by then."

"Wouldn't be surprised." She gently turned back to the first page of the book, smiling as she looked down at the first photo of Hunith helping Arthur with his suit before the ceremony. "I'm glad you have her. She called last week." The look in her eyes was one Arthur understood well as she turned to the next page, quiet for a moment. They both felt the subtle ache of missed opportunities looking at those memories.

"She's fantastic. She's planning to come out when the baby is born." Arthur reached out to turn the page. "I'll show you the videos some day. There's one of Mordred dancing with his girl."

"They're still together?" She smiled.

"Last I checked," he said as she smoothed down a page. "Gwen had that one framed," he commented. Arthur and Gwen were at the center of the shot. Thomas Smith and Elyan were at Gwen's side. On the other stood Hunith, Gaius, and Merlin, Arthur's chosen family. Merlin was grinning, pulled into the shot by Arthur who had an arm around his much as Arthur liked the photo, it stood as a reminder of one notable absence.

"Did he try to duck out?" Morgana asked.

"Of course he did." Arthur shook his head. "Always skirting the cameras." Mordred's video of Merlin performing magic at his wedding was something of a rare gem. It was hard to catch Merlin unawares like that. Morgana shook her head.

"Well, someone had to balance out your ego," she teased. Arthur raised an eyebrow and balled up a wrapper from Morgana's snacks to flick at her across the table. She batted it away with a smile. "Tell him good luck for me. And give Gwen a hug."

"Will do."

The ache he felt as he gave Morgana a last hug and watched her escorted back inside by the guards never seemed to get any easier. There were so many bits of news he could think of every time he visited—things she'd missed, people who had changed, grown, gotten new partners, new jobs, new hobbies and opportunities. The ripple effects of the war and rifts were still very much present, in the world around him and in his personal relationships. Even in an album like the one he'd passed to Morgana, the absences were reminders; his father, who had changed forever in his mind for what he'd learned; Gwaine, who would have enjoyed it twice as much as anyone else, without a doubt; and Morgana… He would never have a photo of his sister helping Gwen get ready, joining Merlin on the dance floor, or delivering a speech at the reception.

But as he turned to make his way out, retrieving his belongings and stepping out into the open air, he put those thoughts aside, turning to the dinner he had planned for that evening. It was their present, and one they'd all had to work hard to build. Morgana had accepted the consequences for her mistakes, just as he himself had spent the last many years trying to make amends in his own relationships and in the country as it grew beyond its backwards beliefs. Growing came with pains. Morgana, unlike the others, was still here, rebuilding the bridges with him, and in fifteen months she'd get her second chance.

—-

"He was at peace," Hunith said. Merlin crouched in the grass, smoothing a patch before he laid a cluster of red and orange dahlias down. His fingers brushed the words gently clean before he stood again, reaching for his mother's arm. Beloved husband and father. "He got five more years with you. Nothing could have made him happier."

"And you," Merlin added, covering her hand with his own. The graveyard was quiet. It was a peaceful place. He still struggled sometimes with the losses that this place represented; the marble wall a ways away, where Gwaine's engraved name represented the bright and warm man who had been a friend to him and Arthur in the greatest crisis of their lives; and the tombstone before him, marking a man who had stolen a few extra years, then been taken from them after all. Remission had been beyond his expectations. They had greeted it as a gift, and they'd had nearly five years cancer free—so much longer than the six months Balinor had first said they had, but it never quite felt enough. He had still felt cheated when the cancer came back a few months after Arthur and Gwen's wedding. Still, Hunith had reminded him the day they laid his father to rest, being buried here with a public gravestone would have been impossible for Balinor not so long ago.

"He'd be happy for you," Hunith said, smiling up at him as they turned to go. They both would have been, Merlin reflected. Gwaine would have had a joke and a hug for him today. He'd been the first to tease Merlin about Freya nearly nine years ago. He nodded.

"I know. I'm glad he got to meet her." He paused as they reached the gate leading out to the street and glanced at her. "You're sure you want me to have the ring?"

"Absolutely. He would have wanted you to give it to her." Hunith put a hand on his back and gently steered him out. "Come on. We don't want to be late."

"Come in!" Arthur's shout was the only answer they got to Hunith's knock at the door. Merlin nudged the door open as Gaius reached it, removing Merlin's coat and scarf to hang up.

"How was the visit?"

"Peaceful. Thank you." Hunith passed him her coat as well. "Are Gwen and Freya here yet?"

"They're on on their way." Gaius ushered them in and shut the door against the cool air.

"Is Arthur cooking?" Merlin arched an eyebrow.

"He's gotten better." Gaius chuckled.

"Shall I make sure he doesn't burn anything?" Merlin slipped his shoes off.

"Merlin." Hunith shook her head at him, but he grinned as he headed down the hall towards the kitchen.

"Is it pancakes for dinner again?" he asked brightly.

"Pancakes are a perfectly good dinner," Arthur responded, looking up from his pan as Merlin approached the stove. "I made what you requested," he said.

"The chicken piccata?" Merlin's tone was edged with mild disbelief.

"The same." Arthur turned to look at him, folding his arms. "And I heard that comment about burning things."

"I'll take it back." Merlin held up his hands in mock innocence. "You really are expanding your repertoire."

"I need to. Have to keep things going smoothly so Gwen can continue her work. I'm the one who can work from home," Arthur said. He turned back to cover the pan. He looked serious. A little smile tugged at Merlin's lips.

"You'll be alright. We can come by and help."

"Not as much anymore," Arthur commented with a slight frown.

"Aw. Are you going to miss us?" Arthur scoffed, and he lifted his shoulders. "We'll make it work," he said. "It's only a couple hours' drive north. It'll be fine."

"How's the new place? Aithusa likes it?"

"She loves it. Freya's really happy. It's beautiful. There's lots of room for the dragons, especially now Kilgharrah isn't flying much anymore."

"Probably best keep him in the north anyways. People haven't forgotten about him," Arthur pointed out wryly. Merlin huffed.

"Reasonably so. But that will never happen again," he said. Arthur leaned against the counter.

"We'll miss you living nearby," he admitted.

"We'll still pop in from time to time," Merlin said. The comment got an immediate response from Arthur.

"Pop in? No. Absolutely not. I remember the last time you popped in." Arthur pointed a wooden cooking spoon at Merlin, retrieved from the counter. Merlin gave the spoon an unimpressed look. "Do not teleport into my living room again," Arthur warned. "Damn near gave me a heart attack."

"Ohh. A spoon. Very threatening. I'd better not." A grin was spreading across Merlin's face at his indignation, and Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"No. No. Don't give me that look. Merlin, I swear to god, if you teleport into my bedroom next time—"

"I won't!" Merlin laughed. "I swear. It was a misjudgment. Freya's really good at the teleporting thing. I'm not." Arthur snorted and lowered the 'threatening' spoon.

"Trust you to be the most powerful warlock in the world and somehow still bad at magic."

"I'm not bad at magic. I just specialize in intuitive elemental spells." Merlin rolled his eyes.

"All I'm hearing is a lot of excuses." Arthur smirked at him and earned himself a telekinetic shove. Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Merlin tried to duck just a second too late. Arthur collared him with an arm and hauled him in.

"Alright, alright!" Merlin yelped. "Arthur, you know we don't teleport all the time. It's difficult to do—"

"Without a dragon. Yeah, yeah, And Kilgharrah's an old bloke who doesn't want to. Poor Merlin's got to do it alone and terrorize his unsuspecting friend trying to have his evening tea in peace." Arthur reached down to ruffle his hair, and he squirmed, trying to duck free.

"It's true. Takes a lot of… energy." He batted at Arthur's hand. "Come on. I got my hair combed down nicely for tonight!" Arthur snorted but released him without tousling it further.

"Freya's not going to say no because your hair is messy. She picked the wrong man if she doesn't like that." He snickered. Merlin flattened down his hair in the front, making a face, and Arthur bumped a shoulder against Merlin's.

"Nervous?" he asked. Merlin shrugged.

"A little."

"It'll be fine. You two have put in a lot of work together." Arthur patted him on the shoulder before pushing off the counter to get some drinks from the fridge. "Here." He passed a bottle of cold bubbly water to Merlin, then turned to put his chicken into a nice dish. "Just relax. I've got everything just like you wanted. It'll be great." He nudged Merlin towards the hall as the door opened again. "I'll put the food out. You go meet your lady."

"Thanks." Merlin responded with a slightly strained smile as Arthur shepherded him back into the hall.

Merlin disappeared around the corner, and Arthur waited a moment after he left, then opened the fridge to check on the delicate strawberry torte he'd tucked into a back corner to avoid being noticed until its moment. He took a moment to set the rest of the food on the counter buffet style with the plates before following Merlin down the hall.

"Hunith. Good to have you in town again." He greeted her with a hug.

"It's good to be here." She was smiling. Hunith knew what tonight was about. He didn't doubt that for a moment. Arthur reached for Gwen's hand, drawing her close for a kiss now Merlin had turned to meet Freya.

"Everything is ready," he murmured in her ear as he pulled her close. She gave him a second kiss on the cheek.

"You're amazing," she said, leaning against him.

"Hang on!" Merlin's warning came a second too late as Gaius knocked the bottle from the entry table in the process of hanging Freya's coat above it. The water froze inches from the floor, and Freya turned her wrist, lifting the water up in a flicker of movement and sending it right back into the bottle.

"My fault." Merlin collected it. "Shouldn't have left it open." Arthur was watching quietly as Merlin capped it again, a small smile on his face. It had taken Merlin and Freya some time to find their feet as the country battled through legislation, conflict, and confusion. There had been many more steps in making sorcery a part of everyday life, and Arthur had come to realize that alongside those steps came challenges for Freya and Merlin that he couldn't imagine—the challenges of learning to feel safe again. Merlin no longer threw those questioning looks at Arthur when he used magic, as if checking it was alright. Freya had taken far longer to use it freely in company. Seeing her use it so casually, or Merlin with his little telekinetic nudge in the kitchen—those were reminders of how far they'd come.

"Do you think she knows?" Arthur asked softly, close to his wife's ear as he put an arm around her waist. Freya's fingers had tangled with Merlin's, and their two hands were swinging gently between them. Gwen laughed.

"She knows," she said in the same quiet tone.

"Ready to eat?" Arthur asked, turning Gwen gently around to steer her towards the kitchen.

"Starving." Freya turned to follow them, beaming.

"I'll be right there." Merlin let her hand go and gave her a kiss on the cheek, turning back. Arthur watched in amusement as a little felt box lifted itself out of the pocket of Merlin's jacket, hung by the door.

"Freya, why don't you get us started?" he asked, stepping in to usher her into the kitchen to make sure she wouldn't look back.

He wouldn't have called things perfect, but things were good. Perfect, at any rate, was an illusion. There were always more bumps in the road as the country changed. There were challenges, worries for the baby, Morgana's remaining sentence, and the struggles Merlin and Freya still faced in a country with many pockets of resistance against magic. Still, they had made something good from the pieces—people who were working through their losses and pains, a country pulling itself together, rising from the ashes of three wars.

Tonight, he was in good, comfortable company. Tonight, Merlin would ask Freya what he'd been waiting eight years to ask. Tomorrow, they would start the next chapter of their lives as all of them went to work again, each doing their part on the long road to healing themselves and their country.