A/N: Yay Back again! Seems this has taken command of my mind (sorry transformers) but really guys? Over 40 faves and followers and only 5 reviews? This makes me sad. I need feedback guys, need to know what you like, what you hate...if you have cookies. Anything

Huge thanks to Flyaway123 for betaing my chapters for me :)

Chapter 2: The Passage of Time

The world turned as the land changed; the once shining towers of Camelot fell and rose many times as each new conquerer claimed it as his own. The world turned once again and the shining city fell for the last time. The sun set and rose repeatedly as the location of Camelot was forgotten to make way for new empires and new people. The legend of Arthur, however, would endure; it would outlast empires and plagues. It would outlast the one thing the legends owners could not:time. Merlin would shadow Arthur-sometimes old, sometimes young-and the story would change as it travelled, but the core would remain the same. One lasting fact would never be forgotten...the Once and Future King would return.

The world grew large, bursting at the seams as the way of the sword gave way to the gun and then, in turn, to the bomb. There would be peace for a time and wonders, such as magic, would beperformed although science would be their origin. But the hearts of men turn to such dark purpose with their desires. The world turned to ash the day men sought all and lost it. Instead, the balance screamed as nuclear fire cleansed the land of life leaving ash and cinders in its wake.

Some survived the fire, some even survived the nuclear fallout, more fell to the nuclear winter that followed. Those that remained banded together; some to survive, others to follow the desire that caused the end. Where the city of London once stood now, only small huts remain, scavenged from the fallen city as the nuclear taint there had been the heaviest. The Thames was black as oil, full of disease and pollution. What animals remained were mutated horrors that nothing in magic would have created. In the centre of the once Great Britain, a new capital rose governed by dark men. Their banner held high on a black flag, a crimson bird in its centre. The land had fallen far, technology was a thing of the past and weapons returned that had long been discarded. Only the cruel and the strong retained the use of guns, though they knew not how to create more and were only dimly aware of how they worked. They scavenged those from abandoned military bases and wherever else they were left. The way of the bomb was lost in ash and the way of the sword returned.

Blacksmiths turned their wares as before, melting metal to blade. Horses were few and far between. If you had power you had the best that was left in this sick world; if you didn't, you either died now or later...it made no difference as those of power would come eventually and take all you had survived to build. Through it all the story of Arthur's return went from wistful story to a beacon of hope. Those on the brink of starvation told their children of Arthur and Merlin, saying that the Once and Future King would return and free them from the dark shadow.

Farmers pulled in meagre crops from the now, mostly barren lands as they tried to keep themselves and their families alive. Craters littered the landscape where, once, great cities dwelled, strewn with the ashes of millions. Mothers cried as most children were stillborn and those that survived birth were often deformed the closer you lived to the craters. Tales carried of a place still lush and green, but none had returned in their search for it and so many dismissed the tales as mad rambles. The barren lands were policed by bandits trying to survive in the only way they knew how: taking from others. The land was littered with the skeletons of trees and that of the dead; some places were just a mass of bones of those that had tried to flee the fire that had consumed them. Here and there, old buildings could be seen. Most could not fathom how they could have been built that tall, not realizing they once stood taller than that. They were now jagged at the top, having halved in size, time weighing heavy on all things. They stood as huge tombstones to those lost in the days that followed.

Once in a while, a shell of iron could be seen. Many forgot what they were, not understanding the wheels on them or how they were said to once move. Most were melted down for materials or stripped to use in other items to help people survive. Once these shells had been so important, just as the fuel that drove them. Now, they were empty husks, only important to what they could be turned into. Cars were now relics of the past as no one knew how to replicate the technology.

Roads that had once snaked all over the country became cracked and buried in the dust of the fallen. One would stumble upon the once smooth tarmac or a fallen road that had once stood above the ground. Railway tracks were either left to rot or reclaimed to be melted down like their car counterparts; the wood sleepers were taken to be burnt for heat in the cold winters until the rail was all but lost, but for the stations that remained. Some iconic buildings remained, fallen and broken. Canterbury Cathedral was in ruins yet the spires stood in defiance of time. Religion was all but gone for who could believe in a god who would let this come to pass.

The Big Ben had fallen into the river, the flattened tower the only sight that once told the time in this land. The bells were lost in the water yet the hands of the clock still stood up in the sludge like mud on the shores. Shells of buses litter around, once red now rusty as the cruel wind's sand blasted the paint from them, exposing the metal to the air.

The skies were always heavy with clouds, the rain no longer as acidic. As our world attempted to heal itself from the horror that had been written upon its surface, the weather became unpredictable. Though a hundred years had passed since the fire scorched the skies and earth, the world would still take many more to recover fully...if it could. Winters were long and harsh while summers, if you could call them that, were often wet with paramount floods. With no trees to clutter the earth, mudslides claimed many of the careless.

Though all those ages-all that fire-Merlin watched as men destroyed themselves while others tried to survive to live on into peaceful future. He was lost to pain and loneliness as he was left behind, never changing, never having a moment free of pain. His mind screamed and howled for Arthur to return, to stop sleeping and free him at last. He cried, cursed, pleaded, but the land always answered, "Not yet; not yet." He felt Aithusa from time to time and wondered if the white dragon and his promise to Arthur was the only thing keeping him sane. Finally, finally, he felt his magic move and knew the time was drawing near. In his prison of crystal, his soul called to Arthur, called to the other side of the coin.

"Wake up, lazy daisy!"

8888888888

The land of Avalon was a sight to behold, glowing with ethereal light that almost pulsed light a heartbeat. All manner of creatures dwelled in this realm, ruled over by the king and queen of the fae. Lord Oberon was said to travel far and wide, so he was not often seen on the Isle. Queen Titania would govern the female of the fae; they followed her like little sheep, adoring her and all things she created. Trees had glowing leaves that swayed in sweet smelling breezes. Rings of flowers dotted the land as the fae rings let them move from place to place about Avalon. Glades were speckled around; in some, white pavilions stood looking almost organic more than stone, glided with gold around their edges. Others were just open spaces filled with sweet grass inhabited by all manner of creatures seeking refuge on the isle.

Gryphons called and flew in the large woods to the east and unicorns could be glimpsed running through the trees, their calls adding to the life of the land. The land was alive with life, almost bursting with magical creatures. This was the seat of magic, of the Old Religion, and the place where Emrys' soul first knew life; it was moulded and shaped before being sent out to be given true life. The Old Religion chose one of its most faithful to be his sire and a kind hearted woman to bear the child that would grow inside her. This would make Emrys not only the last dragon lord at the appointed time but also give him the love needed to sustain him.

In the centre of the isle was a castle not too dissimilar to Camelot if it were not for the other worldly glow that emanated from it. Around the castle, gargoyles patrolled and protected the lands. These creatures were not native but had been brought there by some of the few humans that had stepped on the shores. The creatures of magic went about their business, the only changes to happen upon magic's disappearance was that the Queen and King no longer left the isle and a mound was created in the high hills of Avalon.

The mound was dubbed the "hollow hill", as inside a great cavern was hollowed out, and in the centre was placed a raised bier. There, Arthur was laid upon his arrival. Around the edges in alcoves were placed more biers, each holding a name. Slowly, over time, these, too, were filled as Gwaine, Leon and Percival joined their king in his slumber. The Alabaster stone became richly carved with the story of this king's life and the foretold return. He would rejoin the land in its time of need, and a new golden age would return to surpass all others. He would bring magic back to the land with the help of Emrys and heal all that had been lost. The entrance was blocked by a giant stoned carved in the shape of the Pendragon crest. Some of the fae had once been foolish enough to go near, dark intent in their hearts, but soon fled when the stone dragon in the centre came to life and chased them off.

In the king's slumber, one was appointed to guard the hollow hill in redemption of her soul. The Lady Morgana followed this diligently. She protected Arthur's resting place with all the devotion she had held before she had turned down the dark path. It took her time to forgive herself for what she had done, but the Lady of the Lake had screamed and cursed at her when she had first arrived. She learned from the Queen that the lady was called Freya and had been the love of Merlin's life, even though they only spent a short time together.

She stayed in the land and learned much of the ways she could, the female fae welcomed her at the Lady Titania's request. It seems the Fae Queen had taken pity on the High Priestess and taken her under her wing. They were often seen together conversing; sometimes Morgana would been seen crying as the Lady Titania guided her through the visions of what could of been. She also learned all that befell her was not only her fault. Uther and even Emrys held blame but they were only human. Emrys had been young and carried so much that mistakes could not be avoided and Morgana learned not to hate him for them. How could she? After what he had bargained for her to live here. True, she would never return to the land of mortals, but she was forever grateful for the peace she now had, no longer was she governed by fear of discovery.

She sat in a glade, enjoying the serene feel; she no longer held her magic, but magic on Avalon could be tapped when trained to do so and it hummed around her as life continued to churn. Her dark purple robe hid her face from view for the moment but she lowered it to turn her gaze to the hollow hill. The land was humming, telling her the time was soon. Now fear entered her heart. What would Arthur say to her upon his awakening? Would he hate her? He had every right to do so but she now yearned for him not to.

"Your heart grows heavy child," Morgana moved her gaze from the hill to see Queen Titania walking towards her, her arm resting against that of King Oberon's.

The queen was in a flowing gown that seemed to hold all the shades of the forest while Lord Oberon was clad in black with layered gold and filigree of silver. The queen's hair was like spun gold that reached past her waist, a crown of mithril sat upon her head, light but shining while pointed ears could be seen at their edges. Lord Oberon's hair was almost white, yet had a strange glow about it. His hair was to the middle of his back and he, too, had a crown. It was not of gold, but of some material Morgana could not place. It shone with true power.

"Your majesties," Morgana went down upon one knee. Her face hadn't changed since she left the world of man although it did look as if she was at peace with herself and those around her at last. It was almost how she had been when she had first met Merlin.

"No doubt the Lady of the Lake has been speaking with her again," Lord Oberon spoke as his eyes turned to the lake where he could just make out the form of a woman standing in the shallow waters of the shore.

"Nay, my lord. 'Tis true, she will never forgive me for what has befallen Merlin, but I do not blame her. I have forever separated her from whom she loves and condemned him to pain beyond my reckoning. It is not that which weighs on me at this moment. The land has changed...I think he will wake soon," Morgana's eyes returned to the hill.

"This is true; the time is fast approaching. Even now, Emrys calls out to him. The land of man is in ruins. They need a leader to guide them back to the right path. Perhaps, then, magic can return."

"And do not fear, Lady Morgana. Your brother will not hate you, I think. Also, the Lady Freya will forgive you in time," the queen caressed Morgana's cheek as she spoke causing Morgana to rise from her kneeling position.

"Thank you, my queen," Morgana smiled brightly. "I know I have no right to ask, but can you tell me what Emrys did with Aithusa and his kin."

"Aithusa slumbers with Emrys and has yet a part to play. As for the rest of dragon kind, this will be revealed soon enough," Lord Oberon replied before his lady could, shooting a glare in her direction. Lord Oberon did not forgive easily. The Lady Morgana had proved she could be forgiven, but her attack on the balance still angered Lord Oberon. He truly hated what he had to do to Emrys. He and the young warlock were closer kin that the lady Morgana ever would be.

Just then, the ground rumbled as birds of all kinds and colors took to the sky. A flock of phoenixes took to the air with a trilling scream, coming to circle the hollow hill with their ring of flame and glowing voices. Many of the fae came, their wings filling the air with the fluttering beat as they came to witness what was about to pass. Some were beautiful, with almost translucent wings leaving a trail of glowing dust as they flew about while others looked a horror to behold, all sharp teeth and blue skin.

Morgana turned to the king and queen, a question in her eyes that did not require an answer, for the large stone that stood before the entrance of the hollow hill began to move to the side. The stone was carved like a shield with the Pendragon crest proudly displayed, even as they watched the stone dragon in the middle of the crest detach from the stone shield and take to the sky with a roar. It turned from stone to liquid gold before exploding in the sky, littering gold magic to the ground. The fae began to sing and rejoice as in the opening of the hill a figure could be seen emerging. The figure was bathed from behind by a blue light which became further blocked as other forms began to flank the first form.

"The Pendragon has awakened," Lord Oberon spoke.

Morgana could only look on as the forms stepped in the light of Avalon, their faces now revealed as she and Arthur's eyes locked

tbc.

A/N: aaand there is chapter 2 hope this still has your attention. Don't know when the next chapter will be up. But just in case I wish you all a merry Xmas now Also cudoes to those that I added Disney gargoyles in there. I couldn't help it. I used to love that show and the one where they go to Avalon and wake Arthur from his slumber is one of my fave. If you have never watched Disney's gargoyles...you really should.