"What the hell do we do now?"

"Um... I have no idea."

"You're meant to be this all powerful sorcerer!"

"It didn't come with a guidebook!"

Arthur huffs, exasperated. "Sure you could read it anyway?"

"Haha." I say sarcastically."Look first: you need to sit down."

"Are you giving me an order, Merlin?"

"Yes, sire. Right away, sire!"

Arthur shoots me a filthy look, but complies, and slumps onto my stool. "What now, oh great sorcerer?"

I ignore him and place both my hands on his bare chest. "For wyy flien, enfraid elixir bienna forza." I murmer the words, but pour power into them. Arthur leans quickly back, the nerves evident on his face. "Whoa. What are you doing?" I glance up, and send him a quick half-smile.

"Relax."

I finish the spell, then lean back in satisfaction as the cuts across his chest knit together, and the bruises fade completely. Arthur doesn't seem to notice- he is staring at my face.

"Er, Arthur?"

"Your eyes just went golden. That was seriously weird." I look in my minds eye- not to see the way, but so my irises glow a gentle butterscotch.

"Its so weird..." Arthur reaches a tentative finger forwards, then flicks me hard on the cheek. "Its creepy. Stop it."

I smirk, sweeping into a low, mocking bow, and when I straighten, my eyes are their usual blue

"Now, if you're done showing off..." Arthur says, letting the end of his words trail off threateningly. Sighing, I rifle through my drawers until I find a light blue t-shirt that could fit him. I toss it at him, then grab a package from the side, and slip it into my pocket.

"What the hell is this meant to be?" The disgust in his voice is thinly veiled. I glance round at him: he is holding the top by one finger as if it has some sort of disease.

"Its called a polo shirt." I inform him, dumping a few clothes into a rucksack. I yank my blue neckerchief around my neck, then smile fondly as I catch sight of the old brown jacket tucked into the back corner of the wardrobe. For old times sake, I stuff that in the bag as well. I turn around, going to grab my iphone from the sideboard, but stop as I see Arthur, holding out the shirt expectantly.

"What?"

He pulls a face like it should be obvious, then gestures to the shirt. I get it immediately.

"Oh, no." I grin, backing away. "You see Arthur, a lot has changed while you've been away. Nobody has servants anymore. You're on your own."

"What!" He says, his face a mask of disgust and confusion. "How the hell does anything get done?"

"Well, its called work." I say as slowly as possible. "You've probably never heard of it, though."

"How am I meant to get changed?"

"The same way everyone has done for hundreds of years?"

"Merlin!"

"No can do... Sire." I grin, and grab my phone.

"Do you remember you came into my chambers, when I was still a prince, and you started giving me a lecture on how not to be a prat?" He asks, the seemingly random question startling me. I search my mind, flipping through vague memories, searching for some familiarity. I sigh.

"It's been a very long time, Arthur." I say quietly, unable to look at him.

He is silent for a few moments, clearly disappointed, but then he says slowly, enunciating each word. "You were happy to be my servant, until the day you died." There is a smug aura to his voice, as if he's already won. This rings no bells for me, but I rummage around my mind, shuffling through a millennium's worth of memories, until vague details are returned to me.

"Ah yes." I grin, turning on the phone. "But I did say not to ask me if you needed a servant in the next life."

There is a long, irritated silence, as Arthur tries to come up with a retort. "I... shut up, Merlin. I am your king, remember."

"Yeah... without a kingdom." I tease as I flick through my facebook. "You know... I actually outrank you now."

"What!"

"Oh yes." The wide grin on my face is hard to shift. "You are looking at Corporal Rhys Pendragon."

"W'as that?" He does not question the name, but is confused by Corporal.

"A like, really high, really important, military position." I exaggerate, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

"You?" The incredulously disbelieving tone in his voice is actually quite insulting. I roll my eyes.

"Yes, me."

"Don't believe it for a second." I smile and shake my head at him.

"And anyway, how does a corporal- " he frames the word, turning it into a question. "Outrank a king?"

"Yeah, the very famous king of nowheresville, just north of non-existent." At his confused squint, I elaborate, injecting a trace of sympathy. "Arthur, I'm sorry, but you don't exist."

The slap I receive completely surprises me. "What the hell was that for?"

"Did that feel real to you, you idiot?"

"Fairly real, sire!" Arthur ignores the sarcasm, and continues to shout.

"Then how do I not exist, as you so eloquently put it!"

"Look," I say slowly. "You have no traceable DNA. No recognizable fingerprints. No relatives. Nothing to confirm your identity. As far as the world's concerned, you're another nobody. They don't know who you are."

Although he probably understood about half of what I just said, he still managed to look crestfallen. "They don't know who I am?" He says, absolutely horrified. "They don't remember!?"

"Well... technically. But you and I, we've faded away to legend. The high king of Britain, and the fabled sorcerer, Merlin. They remember, Arthur. They just don't believe."

"But.. Camelot..." he says softly. "Beauty. Prosperity. Happiness. How could it just have... gone? How did it fade, all that light!" He says, anger rising in his voice.

My own is heavy as I reply, weighed down with a thousand years worth of loss and heartache. "Everything fades, Arthur."
I've got him now. I tell myself fiercely. I'm not alone. But the weight in my chest doesn't lift, and although I am no longer by myself, I feel lonelier than I ever have before. Eons and oceans of time separate us, a gap impossible to bridge.

He is silent, recognising the pain in my words, but choosing to tactfully ignore it. He is fixated on the loss of his kingdom. He sits back down on the bed, in his eyes the same sadness reflected in my own.

"How did..how did she fall?"

"When... when Gwen died-" My throat constricts, and I force the words through the lump blocking my airways, and making it hard to breathe. "A new line sprang up. They were good rulers, I think."

Arthur, face drawn at the mention of his dead wife, slowly raises his head to look at me. "You think?"

"I... I never went back. I couldn't." I can barely speak above a whisper.

"Then... how do you think?" He asks, the softness in his voice surprising me.

"Camelot was peaceful for many, many years under their reign. The wars were won easily." I pause. "Well, I helped a bit from the sidelines, but their army was strong."

"Then how did she fall?" He says again desperately.

I sigh, and give the only answer I can. "Time. She just... faded. The crops weren't doing so well, people weren't eating enough. There were riots, and the king didn't act quickly enough. She descended into anarchy. It was a bloodbath. I got as many people out of the city as I could and when I returned... there was no Camelot."

After a long, tense silence, Arthur lies back on the double bed, his head cradled in his hands.

"What's there now?" He asks so quietly I barely hear him. I shrug.

"A few fields. A couple of cows. Some mountains. And... a lake." A millenium's worth of pain pulls at my chest, and I wipe the tears furiously from my eyes. Any and all energy has become a stranger, and I sit back on the bed, desperately seeking some sort of oblivion. Arthur pushes himself forward until he's sitting next to me, unsure of his next move.

I know Arthur's eyes are dry, but I also know he is feeling the same as I am, the same ancient sadness, the loneliness. But then he pulls me into a tight embrace, and suddenly I am not alone anymore.

We hug tight, and in those moments, bridge a divide a thousand years wide.

~~~~~~~

Sorry, bit of a filler :/