The call was from Sherlock and thus urgent. Merlin picked up immediately.

The news wasn't good. London had fallen.

After two world wars, he had little hope as he looked out across the lake. He started to run on, already yelling for Aithusa, Nemine, and Leon, when he saw it.

Movement.

. . . .

The years had passed slowly. He had watched the world change from his watery bed, keeping a particular eye on those he'd left behind. One by one, most of them had joined him.

One hadn't.

Now, the time for waiting was over. Gwen smiled beside him. Both Elyans reached for swords. Gwaine clapped Percival on the back. Robin reached for his bow.

King Arthur rose from the lake.

Most of the dignity of the moment was lost when he collapsed under Merlin's flying tackle hug.

Albion was under attack. The greatest of Camelot, united once more, were ready to answer her call.

Destiny felt very smug. She exerted herself a touch to hear what the two pieces of the reunited coin were saying. A new legend was playing out, after all. It would need to be recorded.

"You prat! And you yelled at me for sleeping in! Do you have any idea how long it's been?"

"I do. There aren't any taverns in Avalon, mate. It was awful!"

"Shut up, Gwaine. Er, Merlin? Could you let go now?"

"Oops. Sorry."

"Idiot." The word was said fondly.

Destiny withdrew. On second thought, perhaps it would be better to make something up.

Author's Note: That's a wrap, folks. Thank you for all the reviews and support. New stories should be up soon.

For the love of Camelot!