Chapter Text
Centuries.
Merlin had lost count of the years he wandered the world. He supposed that was part of his training. To become the wizard Gaius always believed he was. Poor Gaius had believed in him until his dying day. Refusing to pass on until he saw Merlin at his side.
He supposed he could have attempted to move on. Tried to have a family, but the weight of his existence weighed heavily on him. Even if he tried to take a wife and have children, he would see him every time he closed his eyes and dream about the days far past. It would always go back to him. Gwenivere had always said he was too single minded in his devotion, but Merlin never saw the harm in it. Until he was killed. And it was all Merlin's fault.
Arthur.
He'd never spoken the name aloud since that day he'd bid farewell to his King in the river. And he never would. Not until he returned and forgave his sins. Maybe not even then. The fault lay entirely with him, he would admit, even when told that Mordred would kill Arthur, Merlin had insisted that he could stop it. Then, not even 6 months later, Merlin had set his king's body aflame down the lake to join his mother and father in the Otherworld.
And so he waited. For centuries he waited for his return. The world still existed and changed. He saw humanity expand from tiny villages into sprawling metropolises, with weapons that would have decimated Camelot in seconds.
Camelot.
The destruction of the kingdom had been thorough and many had died. Without knights like Gwaine and Lancelot, they stood no chance in defending themselves from the Druids and in two days Camelot was nothing more than a wasteland. A place of broken hopes and dreams. Merlin let the others believe him dead, leaving a piece of his clothing to be found by Gwen. The queen quickly succumbed to the Druids and Merlin watched as her very spirit broke and the Druids rejoiced in her death.
Her death would be something that Arthur would never forgive him for. For watching though he might've been able to spirit her away. At that point Merlin had considered everything lost and just withered away. Much like his kingdom.
In the years that followed, the number of times Merlin had used his magic was few and far in between. He called on Kilagraah only once to confirm what the great Dragon had already prophesied before. Arthur would return. Not might. Would. A certainty.
Merlin, watched the earth grow and change. He saw it become the empire it now was. Watched its children grow, love, die and wished that Arthur had had that same chance.
Now as he slowly trudged down central London, Merlin in his disguise as an old man wearing jeans and a worn blue button down with his white hair and large beard, Merlin just observed. Waiting for his King to return.
As Merlin passed a school district, and he felt himself pushed aside by the masses, and saw the swarm of students that threatened to swamp the streets and pulled off into a side alley to watch the eager young lot live life. To jostle their way without a care in the world to go to school.
His eyes roved over them, pausing to read their stories as an open book, like he'd been taught. Broken homes, happy homes, abuse, love, hatred, apathy, empathy and resignation. He saw it all and for moments like this, Merlin wished he had died along with Arthur, so he wouldn't see the monsters that modernization created.He passed over red hair, brown hair, black pink and blonde hair. A tall blonde boy caught his eye amongst the crowd.
Suddenly, Merlin became very still. His blood pounded in his ears and all he heard was a roaring in the far distance that sounded like The Dragon. Yet all Merlin could do was stare. For 5 centuries he had waited. It was relief. He closed his eyes and breathed a single word to the universe around him.
Arthur.