A/N: Hello everybody! Again, it has taken me a while to write up this chapter. Sorry for the wait :(. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please remember to leave constructive criticism if there's anything you want to say. Thank you to everyone that has read/reviewed/favourite/followed so far!

Chapter 12.

It was worth a shot. He had no idea if it would work. Merlin felt that he was perhaps clutching at straws. But maybe visiting a familiar place would help Arthur to accept how much time had passed. The lake, of course, had changed a fair amount since Arthur had previously visited. Not counting recent unconscious adventures. The lake was still recognisable, despite the additions of numerous footpaths, picnic areas and a small children's playground.

Merlin could still sense the hum of magic in the air, though it was much weaker than it had been a thousand years ago. Of course, he doubted that Arthur would sense anything of the sort. It was purely the visual cues that Merlin thought may have an impact.

There was a light tickle on Merlin's skin as they got nearer to the lake. He could sense the power bubbling up in the water before them and filling the air. Merlin often wondered if the magic in the air was responding to his presence. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly nostalgic Merlin wondered if the buzzing around him was not only that of magic, but of something else. Destiny, perhaps? The two powers were likely intertwined.

The pair reached the edge of like lake. Merlin's stomach was twisting in knots out of a cruel mixture of excitement, aprehention and nerves. He chanced a glance at his companion; Arthur's brow was furrowed in concentration as if he was trying to figure something out. However, he did not speak. Merlin had noticed that since Arthur's return, rather uncharacteristically the King had stopped speaking his mind. Instead he would cast glances at his friend, lips tightly sealed. Merlin got the impression that Arthur was unsure and confused. Perhaps even a little scared. Arthur knew there was something wrong; he wasn't completely stupid. Even if he was stupid enough to doubt Merlin's explanations.

Merlin plonked himself on the grass, gesturing for Arthur to do the same. He then peeled off his shoes and socks, dipping his toes into the cool water. There was something strangely threaputic about the gentle ripples tickling his feet.

"Have we been here before?" Arthur asked. His voice was quiet and there was a hint of uncertainty there. In that moment Merlin wanted nothing more than to grab hold of Arthur, to envelope him in his arms and promise that everything would be alright. He stopped himself, knowing Arthur would not appreciate the sudden physical contact. No matter how young and vulnerable he looked. Merlin noted that Arthur had opted not to dangle his toes in the water, instead drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself.

"Yes, we have," Merlin answered, carefully. He waited for a response from Arthur, who was doing his best to conceal his thoughts. "This is the lake of Avalon. It is where we came to lay Elyan to rest," Merlin explained. He could feel the tears threatening to cloud his vision. Again, Arthur did not speak. Merlin wished desperately that he would. Then he might know better how to approach the situation.

Merlin took a deep breath and spoke again. "This is where you washed ashore the other day,"

The crease on Arthur's brow deepened, if that was possible.

"How did I end up here?"

Merlin bit his lip, wondering how to phrase the next bit. "This is where I brought you after you died. I think your spirit stayed in the water until it was time for you to come back,"

Arthur eyed Merlin, appearing to be thinking hard.

Merlin sighed and looked down. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I wish you would believe me,"

"I wish I could believe you Merlin," Arthur replied after a while. "It is all so far fetched. I believe that you believe that is what happened. But there has to be a plausible explanation. Enchantments, sorcery, madness, whatever. This lake is familiar, but it is not the Avalon that I know,"

Merlin didn't know how to respond. It wasn't the result he wanted, but at least Arthur was acknowledging that something was going on. Even if he was still unwilling to believe the truth, he was slowly coming around. With Arthur, disbelieving the truth often seemed to be the case and it always happened at the worst times.

Like the time that Merlin warned Arthur about being respectful towards the Disir's layer. Or, Merlin thought with a pang, the many times Merlin had warned Arthur about trusting Mordred. It was typical Arthur. Merlin just needed to figure out what would be evidence enough to snap the pompous prat out of it this time. The trouble was, Arthur would not listen until it was too late. He would not listen until things started going wrong and he desperately needed to fix them.

Merlin fought the urge to press his fingernails into the palm of his hand as he was overwhelmed by thoughts of how Arthur never believed him, never trusted him. He wondered really why he still put up with the royal prat.

As the thought crossed his mind, Merlin cast a sideways glance at Arthur, seeing the pain and confusion in his eyes. Merlin sighed. Of course he knew why he had stayed by Arthur for all of these years. Besides, Merlin thought to himself with a smile, without the warlock, Arthur would never be able to dress himself in the morning. The poor man would barely be able to survive, particularly in this harsh modern world.

Merlin's thoughts were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice calling out.

"Arthur is that you?"

Merlin wondered who on earth it could be. There should be no one alive that recognised Arthur. Unless it was someone from the hospital, but they saw dozens of people everyday. It was unlikely any of the nurses would recall him, unless hed made that much of an impression. Merlin did have to admit that Arthur did sometimes have that effect on people. Judging by Arthur's puzzled expression, he was also struggling to place the owner of the voice.

A woman was approaching the pair; her lined face had broken into a large smile. Whoever she was, she was obviously happy to have stumbled across Arthur. Her light grey hair was pulled into a bun on the back of her head; a few tendrils had managed to escape and were dancing lazily in the breeze. As she came to a stop before the two young men, she must have finally registered the blank looks they were both giving her as her smile faded a little.

"It is Arthur, isn't it?" she spoke again. Merlin looked between the woman and Arthur to see the latter giving a small nod. She continued "My name is Brenda. I am Martin's wife,"

Arthur gave a small smile and got to his face. "Ah, Mrs Tucker. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Please give my thanks to your husband once again,"

Merlin found himself rolling his eyes at Arthur's behaviour. Forever the charmer, even when seconds ago a silent war had been raging inside his head. Hesitantly, Merlin also clambered to his feet, eyes still flickering between Arthur and Brenda Tucker.

"Martin has been ever so worried about you," Brenda said, her voice small.

Arthur looked down at his feet for a second. "I am sorry about that. Please assure him that he has no reason to worry. I am in safe hands now," with that, he cast a quick look at Merlin, who couldn't stop the wide grin that had spread across his face. Even if Arthur did not trust Merlin's version of events, he still trusted the man to take care of him.

"Why don't you tell him yourself?" Brenda asked. "You should come over for dinner tonight,"

Brenda's request was met by silence. Merlin wished he could read Arthur's mind. He wondered if it would be a good idea. Would Arthur become too overwhelmed? Merlin seriously doubted that Arthur would be able to keep up conversation for long. Within minutes of their arrival, they would probably be threatening to cart Arthur back to the psychiatric ward.

"That would be lovely," Arthur replied after a few seconds. "Thank you for the invitation,"

Merlin cringed. Oh dear.

"That's sorted then. Make sure you bring your friend," Brenda beamed, looking Merlin up and down.

"This is Merlin," Arthur said. Thankfully, this time he left of the part about Merlin being his manservant. Merlin cast a grin in Brenda's direction, though he was sure the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ah, the infamous Merlin," Brenda smiled before rattling off the address of the Tucker household. Merlin chose to ignore the comment, instead trying to commit the address to memory.

"Thank you for the invitation," Merlin said and with that the woman was off on her way. Merlin cast a glance at Arthur who had sat back down on the grass. He was smiling slightly, apparently his troubles temporarily banished from his mind. Merlin sighed and joined him. He could only hope that in the hours approaching their visit, he could attempt to brief Arthur on just how different things may be.