Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to BBC.

Notes: And here is the last chapter. I was going to do another one called "First New Year" but I figured that they would've had plenty of New Years together, even if Uther is an arse. I have a few planned for unofficial chapters, which I can't add in now without messing everything up, but they will be slow to come, so even though it says its completed it isn't truly. Maybe a New Years one will be in that. I don't know.
But it is finally the end. I will now concentrate on 'Kyrie' and my rediscovered interest in 'Wheel of Fortune' before starting on 'Lust In Action' when 'Kyrie' is finished.

Thanks for sticking with me on this. I appreciate it. :)

Last [Separation]

[1/1]

He is one of the last few left of the old gang. Gwaine's hard and fast lifestyle caught up with him when he messed with the wrong man's girl. Leon died in a car accident, Will had a heart attack, Freya slipped and Gwen succumbed to cancer after a long, exhaustive fight.

Morgana stands beside him now, glamorous even now, on the wrong side of seventy. Beautiful, looking at least twenty years younger. A high end fashion designer in the end, her business turned over to her equally successful daughter as her genius son sets to take over the scientific world, unable to attend but sending their sincerest condolences. They made up for their absence today by helping with the arrangements a few days

Lance is also with him, wheelchair bound with limited mobility. The curse of the old, he says with a grin. Active enough in his younger years to suffer the inactivity of now, he smiles. Brave – the ghost in his eyes after Gwen died still apparent. He misses her, as they all did. The lingering pain is hard to witness but he can understand him more now. His daughter, son-in-law and grandsons stand sombre beside him.

Gilli is also here, quiet support that he never expected. He had his own lifelong partner now, a nice man called Benjamin who was gentle and not at all jealous of Merlin and his close relationship, or the lingering affection in Gilli's eyes.

Arthur too had gotten over that in time. The benefits of being together for a lifetime.

Not that it mattered now, for Merlin lay ahead of them in an open, beautifully crafted oak coffin. His weathered and wrinkled face a picture of peace, and it break Arthur's heart. There had been no dramatic passing for Merlin, not that Arthur expected there to be one. He wouldn't want to put any one out or cause undue stress after all. He just never woke up one fine spring morning.

And Arthur couldn't be mad at him for that.

Arthur sighs, tears burning his eyes but he refuses to cry. Maybe later, in the darkness of their home, but not here. Merlin wouldn't want tears, and so he will hide them from him.

Why break tradition? Only this time, of course, Merlin isn't there to suss him out, scold him then hold him on those few, rare occasions.

He sighs again.

There is a thrumming ache in his chest that hasn't left since he realise that while Merlin was still warm, he wasn't breathing. It's an emptiness that hollows out his chest and makes his heart sluggish and reluctant. He knew they weren't immortal, but he never thought one of them would leave the other. Especially not that Merlin would leave him – surely it would have been the other way around. Arthur always was more selfish, he was certain his nature would carry through to death, making sure he could avoid pain by being the first to go.

But then he couldn't truly say he'd have wished this throbbing, echoing nothingness and singular sharp pain on his lover. Not really.

He had wished they would've gone together.

He swallows, hands shaking with more than old age as he approaches the coffin. Arthur has a nice plot of land picked out in the family plot, with an equally nice spot beside him just for himself. He made sure it wasn't so close to his father, nearer to Ygraine, who had loved him like a second son.

He reaches the coffin and closes his eyes for just a moment before glancing down.

So peaceful in his eternal sleep Merlin looks. He is dressed nicely, his white hair as disruptive as it had been when they were young. The lines around his face speak of a life well lived, Arthur likes to think, as he touches his hand to the cold one of his lover. Merlin had never had the warmest of hands – too slim to retain much heat but Arthur had never minded. It was just another excuse to get closer.

Arthur closed his eyes once more. Just two weeks ago, Merlin had been happily playing great-uncle to Lance's grandsons. He had been engaged in a rather one-sided but interesting conversation on physics with Mordred, with Morgause deciding the spring collection with her mother. Just two weeks ago he had been alive.

Arthur released a shaky breath, leans over and presses a soft kiss to cool lips.

"You just had to leave me, didn't you?" Arthur whispers. "Couldn't even give me a warning. Didn't give me a chance to talk you out of it." He pauses. "Or letting me come with you." He smiles grimly.

"I'll miss you," he continues. "Miss you so much." He rubs a hand down his face, glancing at the others waiting to give their last respects to an old friend. He brushes hair from Merlin's face, a needless gesture. "It hurts a fair bit," he whispers, words cracking now with tears blurring his vision. He'll blame it on horrible lighting and worsening sight due to age. The others won't believe him but they'll allow him his lie, his stupid pride, just as Merlin would.

"They want me to say goodbye," he confides quietly, carefully pacing his words so that horrible lump in throat won't interfere. "But I won't, because it's not. It's temporary separation, that's all. We've suffered those before; we'll do it again now.

"It's not goodbye."

Arthur lets his head duck down for a moment, a hand dragging down his aged face.

"It's not goodbye Merlin, not between us, never between us. It's farewell. It's 'I'll see you later' because I will." He presses a kiss to Merlin's forehead. "No partying with Gwen and the others up there just yet. You wait for me."

He turns away then, shoulders broad and tense, blue eyes glimmering with unshed tears but quietly comforted by his own words and own conviction.

It only takes five more years before another tombstone is added to the Pendragon lot, far away as Uther's as is polite, close enough to Ygraine to signify preference and right next to the other most recent addition, so close that the marble slabs rub shoulders, marked in identical golden script, baring to the world that both loved and were loved until the very end and beyond.

And it's the end. Officially. xD Thanks again for all your support. I hope that what you just read wasn't disappointing or anything and I hope to see you all again soon :).