For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
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‘Where is Merlin?’
Leon frowned, confusion etched on his features, and the panic in Arthur’s chest spread as blood rushed to his head.
‘Is that a new knight,’ Leon asked, and then shook his head, ‘But first, you are needed in the courtyard, Sire.’
Arthur didn’t hear him, or answer him as he asked if something was wrong. Neither did he move as Leon placed a hesitant hand on his arm, telling him to hurry. Arthur yelled for Merlin instead. He must be here somewhere, Arthur just needed to find him.
‘You are already late, Sire. Your Father demands your presence immediately.’
Words died on Arthur’s tongue, melting away as his brain grew fuzzy, vision turning suddenly sharper.Arthur dies and Merlin lives on.
But Arthur doesn’t sleep through the centuries that pass by with him in the lake. He lives and lives and lives again, each time waking up in his own bed in Camelot, each life starting on the day he met Merlin.Series