The apartment door swung open as Merlin entered with his arms filled with plastic bags. He dropped the groceries onto the entrance floor with a loud sigh. Quickly, he untied his shoes and took off his coat, looking around the kitchen for Arthur's presence. He normally was back from training at this time of day. He found the blond in the living room, lying on the couch. Arthur's eyes were glued to the telly, absorbed by a child cartoon. With a quick glance to the movie, Merlin sighed in disapproval.

The screen showed a little blond child in oversized red clothing surrounded by men in armor. The knights were fighting, desperately pushing each other to get in front of the line. A crowd had gathered around to witness the men try to pull a sword out of a stone. They waited impatiently as the small blond child grabbed the sword's yield, pulling out of its stone cage easily.

"You're not really watching that rubbish," Merlin complained rolling his eyes.

"They've gotten it all wrong," Arthur complained. "Things didn't happen like that."

"Sword in the Stone," he said in disgust as he returned to the kitchen to unpack the groceries. "That movie should be destroyed."

"Is that really how people remember me?" the King worried. "Is that my legacy?"

"Oh no," the warlock explained. "That's just Disney ruining everything. Your story has been told for centuries. It has been repeated so much everyone has a different version, but they all agree to say you were the greatest thing Albion has ever known."

"What happened to it?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

"Sorry,"

"Albion, Camelot. When I look around I can't see anything that merely resembles the citadel. Where did the castle go?"

Merlin looked away, a pained expression on his face. "It mostly ruins now. I'm sorry. I tried to protect it as long as I could but- it's just- with time- I'm sorry."

"Tell me."

"When enemy lands heard about your… your death, they rushed to Camelot, seeking an opportunity to take over. But the knights and I pushed them away every time. When Gwen died, the power went over to Elyan, and then to his son. After that I stopped visiting Camelot. Everyone I knew there was dead. I only returned to the citadel when it was in danger. Times changed and people moved out. There was barely anyone left in Camelot. They went to bigger cities with more people," the warlock explained.

"And then the wars came," he signed, pausing in his speech. "Albion started to divide, fighting against itself for independence and freedom. During those years I was sure you were coming back. I didn't leave the lake's bank for weeks at a time. That's when the castle started to crumble and I couldn't fix it. To be honest I didn't have the will to do so anyway. When I realized you wouldn't return, things had gotten bad for me. I was losing hope that I would ever see you again. It seemed quite pointless to maintain a castle you'd never get back to."

Arthur grabbed the brunet's hand, squeezing lightly. He rubbed his thumb along his lover's palm, encouraging him to continue. The shadow of a smile appeared on the sorcerer's face, comforting both men. "Albion separated into smaller countries, and then those countries fought with neighboring land. When the World Wars happen, the German bombs destroyed most of what was left of the citadel's weak structure. There are a few walls that still stand, but nothing that would be recognizable."

"So what do the people believe? You told me everyone has heard of the legend of King Arthur," the blond said with a little laugh. "They never sought out Camelot?"

"Oh yes, many did. There are pilgrimages happening still today. But it was too dangerous for me to let them find the real citadel," the wizard replied.

"How come?"

"Great deeds leave a mark on the land. There's a powerful magical residue."

"Like that druid camp we found in the forest, were Elyan woke a vengeful spirit," the King inquired, trying to understand.

"Yeah, somewhat like that," Merlin agreed. "Camelot is a lot stronger though. It holds so much energy, with everything that we did there. And that energy attracted lots of people. There were some sorcerer's who wanted to find the citadel to use that power. I had to stop them so I spread a rumor to make people believe that the Cadbury castle in Somerset was where Camelot used to be. There are pilgrimages to the remains every year. I put a protection spell on the real place so no one could find it."

"And where are the real remains of the citadel?" the blond asked nervously.

"Near Cader Idris in Wales. It's about a 5 hour drive away" the warlock explained.

The blond stared back at him with an expression of confusion. "Three days by horseback," the brunet corrected, smiling as he knew Arthur knew nothing about driving distances. "We could go if you like?"

Arthur hesitated before answering. The world around him was currently so confusing. He was only starting to get use to the different ways of life. He was unsure if he truly wanted to see the broken remains of his previous home. Some things were better left unseen.

The King looked out of the window. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea. He thought of Camelot lots since his return, wondering about the land he had known so well. A simple visit couldn't be that harmful. He needed to see it from his own eyes. "Yes," the blond concluded. "Yes let me see it."

"Alright," the warlock replied. "Next Friday is the beginning of the long weekend. And the medieval fair should be close which will give you loads of time off. We can go then."

"Fine", the blond replied with a widening smile. The brunet returned to his unpacking. Merlin had to admit he was nervous at the idea of returning to Camelot. In the past centuries, he had avoided the citadel. Surely, the castle had been where he had lived the best years of his life. It was his past, his home. His best memories were inside the unbreakable walls of the city, and, until very recently, he had never been happier than when he was there. But in the past centuries, it had begun to symbolize everything he had lost. Every time he had returned to the castle, he had did alone, broken, plagued by the souvenirs of all the people he had loved, and all the people he had lost. Whenever he would visit what was left of Camelot, the ruins only reminded him of the life he had lost, and how the current life was broken. He saw half broken walls that crumbled onto the old forsaken grown that was left behind and thought that he also had been left behind. The sorcerer strongly preferred reminiscing about the place he loved that to see how it had truly been destroyed. The castle, just like him, was damaged beyond repair.

At least that was what he used to think when he traveled to Camelot. His life had drastically changed in the last couple of months. He couldn't be more grateful that Arthur had returned, let alone that they were together, both allowed to be in love. So yes, Merlin was nervous about this upcoming visit to Camelot, but he knew this time would be different. The warlock wasn't returning to the ruins of Camelot alone. Arthur was going to be with him. And even if that scenario scared him, Merlin would face anything with the blond.