I'm sorry for the wait! But exams are finally OVER. Thank you for carrying on reading and reviewing!

Merlin sat at his place at the round table. It was dark in the great hall - the table had been assembled for the council meeting tomorrow, on the matter of the successor to Gwen and Leon. Archer would normally be considered the obvious first choice, but he had been away for two years, ruling in Caerleon. Lord Mortimer, a remnant of the reign of Uther, argued that it would not be wise to merge the two kingdoms. Archer's son Craeo would already be inheriting four; Caerleon from Archer, Queen Vivian's realm, and Nemeth and Gawant from Alana's parents. Would it be wise to increase his burden? As well as that, Archer hadn't been seen by the court in two years. They couldn't judge him on his suitability. Lord Mortimer argued that perhaps Camelot should be inherited by Lark and Liett, the twins, as joint leadership would make for a stronger kingdom. And Arthur, who had gone against Uther, would not have a direct descendant on the throne. A stupid idea, Merlin thought, although he had expressed it more politely at the time. It would only lead to chaos later, as who would succeed from Lark and Liett? He tapped his fingers on the smooth surface of the table. Arthur had died that the kingdoms may be united, not divided. Merlin was fairly confident that Archer would be named the heir. But not completely. He rested his head on the table, inhaling the scent of the honey polish. Arthur was becoming a name, not a person, gradually. Merlin must keep on remembering him, as they were destined to be reunited. That was his greatest fear - that he would forget to remember Arthur, that he would forget who he was and what he stood for. He should really start writing it all down, before he forgot further. He wished that he day of his return would be soon, he didn't know if he could stand the wait. How long before he gave in? 100 years? 500? He didn't want the years to change him, he wanted Arthur to recognise him on his return. He remembered the last few days, when he had revealed his magic to Arthur. The lack of recognition and mistrust in Arthur's eyes... He never wanted to experience it again. He remembered not how Arthur's mouth had fallen slightly, or how his eyes had widened, but the dagger like feeling to his stomach. And it was that which he must never forget. There were days when he felt as though the weight of it all was crushing him, strangling him. The uncertainty, the loneliness of extended life and extended youth. The death toll would only increase, as he met more people, who would live their lives and ultimately die. He would see it all, and that thought was enough to make him want to flee; to run and hide and never be hurt again. There were days where he felt utterly lost, not knowing who to turn to. Gaius and Alice were gone. Balinor was gone, although Merlin still occasionally fleetingly felt his presence. And Gwen, Leon and Percival were ageing, their hair greying and limbs weakening. Archer and Aidan were away in Caerleon, and while the bond still remained between Merlin and Archer, it had been months since he had felt the familiar tug of Archer in trouble. Merlin supposed that was a good thing. That it was enough that they were all content, that Merlin was capable of healing and helping the weak. But the selfish recesses of his heart were yearning for a companion. In truth, they had been for the past 25 years. Had it really been that long? 25 years of peace, and equality, and heart ache. 25 times then, he had visited the lake of Avalon. It was almost a ritual. It had been six months since his last visit. Six months until the next. He would allow himself no more; he needed to be reminded that the present was worth living for.

"Uh, Sir?"

Merlin jerked upright, looking at a pale faced, ruddy cheeked servant. He wasn't a knight, but the staff tended to address him as 'Sir' anyway.

"Yes?"

"Your mother is waiting for you in your chambers."

Merlin stood abruptly, his mind racing, and made his way to his chambers, which consisted of two rooms, similar to Gaius's old chambers, lined with shelves crammed full of magical artefacts, and potion ingredients. He burst through the door to find his mother seated at the table, a warm cup of milk in hand. "Mother." He walked swiftly to her, and she smiled.

"Merlin, it is good to see you. You haven't changed a bit."

"No." Merlin hadn't actually spoken to her about his extended youth, but she was not stupid; she knew.

"Mother, are you alright?"

"Yes. I am grinning and bearing." She smiled a little, sipping her milk.

"What brings you to Camelot?"

"Can't I be here to just visit my son?"

"I'm not complaining, mother! But... You didn't write?"

She hesitated slightly. "I'm older now. And it won't be long before I'm unable to make the journey to Camelot. It took me a week to get here. So I wanted to come, before... Before it is too late. I wanted to see you."

"Mother, don't talk like that. You have many years left yet."

"And I wish to spend them with my son. May I?"

"Of course!"

"I hear rumours you know. Whispers. Some say that you will live forever."

"Not forever." Merlin shook his head. "Until Arthur returns."

"When will that be?"

"I don't know."

She gazed at him in silence for a while.

"I realise that I will only then be a small portion in your long life. But, Merlin, will you remember me? Remember all you have been taught. I know that the goodness in your heart will outshine all adversity you may face."

"I couldn't forget you, mother." He cleared his throat. She smiled.

"Oh, my son. Thank you."

Merlin was bewildered. "For what?"

Hunith didn't reply.

Lancelot and Gwaine were with him for the first questioning. He had made it clear that they were under no obligation to him, but they had argued that while he was no longer their King, he was their friend. So, Freya had taken them to the first relevant and willing volunteer. "Promise me, Arthur Pendragon, that you won't overstep your boundaries."

"I promise."

"Likewise," said Gwaine, and Lancelot nodded.

"Very well. Her name is Orpha. She died from a growth in her head. She knows where she is, but please, be considerate. She isn't fully adjusted. I don't want her confused, because fear is contagious, and I've already cleaned up that mess once. It was dreadful when I first got here." Freya paused. "She was a kitchen hand in your castle."

The world shifted, and they stood in the fog of the recently deceased. Orpha stood before them, a little wide eyed and uncertain. Freya stood to one side, her long purple dress billowing and trailing behind her. Orpha inclined her head. "Sire." Arthur shot Freya a glance, she had warned him to not overstep his boundaries, after all.

"Orpha. I am not your king here. You have no need to treat me as the man I once was."

Orpha shook her head. "You were good to me in life, Sire. It is you who made the peace possible. So, forgive me, but you remain my king." Arthur couldn't help but smile at her fierce loyalty. Freya inclined her head, as if to say that Orpha was allowed to pledge her allegiance to whoever she wished.

"So, there is peace?" Lancelot asked.

"Yes, Sir Knight. The kingdoms are all but united. The young Prince Craeo should grow to rule the five as one."

"How?" Gwaine asked. "I'm assuming that Prince Craeo is...?"

"My grandson."

Gwaine gaped. "I didn't know you had any children!"

"One son. And Merlin keeps me updated. Sort of."

"Arthur. We are going to have a lengthy discussion about this," Gwaine laughed.

"Later. Anyway." Arthur indicated that Orpha should continue.

"I am but... Was but a simple kitchen hand. I have no detailed knowledge of matters of the state."

"How long has it been?"

"Twenty five years, Sire."

Twenty-five years. Archer would be twenty five. Soon he would be older than Arthur ever was. That was a truly alarming prospect. "And have there been... Any major matters? Can you talk us through all that has happened? Gaius has informed me of the repeal against the ban on magic, and The Queen's marriage to Sir Leon." Arthur saw Lancelot and Gwaine exchange glances. Arthur tried to think rationally. He was happy for Guinevere, truly he was, but, as he reflected, the living rarely think of the consequences of their actions for beyond the grave. He had no idea what would happen when she died. He yearned for her company, but she had been married to Leon for longer than him, and they had three children together.

"Prince Archer is now king of Caerleon. He rules in the north, with his wife and child in Camelot."

"How is that possible?" Lancelot frowned.

"The young princess, she married the King of Caerleon. King Idra. But... There was a terrible accident, Sire. They both perished. Died. And Prince Archer was next in line." She turned her head to the fog. "They will be here somewhere, won't they. It's strange, isn't it?"

"It is," Arthur agreed, his mind racing. He should look for her. Guinevere's daughter. He owed it to Gwen to look after her. He thanked Orpha for her help, and Freya dismissed them back to Arthur's world.

"You didn't tell us," Gwaine accused. "That you have a son. A grandson."

"What did you mean about talking to Merlin?" Lancelot asked. "Have you found a way back?"

"Elyan should be here for this," Gwaine decided, and marched Arthur in to Elian's realm. The river by the forge gurgled pleasantly, and Elyan was working in his forge.

"Elyan?" Gwaine called. "The princess is pretending to be interesting!"

Elyan emerged, a smear of soot on his cheek. "Hello, Gwaine. Lancelot. Arthur." He walked nearer slowly, curiously. Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Is it or is it not true, that you have been talking with Merlin?" Gwaine asked.

"Merlin? Is he here too?" Elyan looked about them. Lancelot shrugged, shaking his head. Death had only strengthened Gwaine's stubborness.

"He... I see him in the fog."

"Fog, you say?" Gwaine sounded interested.

"Yes, Gwaine. The fog. Sometimes, Merlin appears, talks, and leaves. It's nothing exciting."

"He has magic," Lancelot reminded them. "It is probably that."

"Probably," Arthur agreed. "And I don't see what it is to do with you."

"He's our friend," Gwaine said. "Perhaps you could take us with you next time?"

"It doesn't work like that. I have no warning. I'm just dragged there, and Merlin, he... He doesn't even hear me."

Gwaine frowned. "This is something bigger, isn't it."

"Yes. See... Merlin isn't going to die. Not yet. Not until I return. Back to life."

"How?" Lancelot asked in a hush tone.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"So, you think that Merlin living forever has something to do with him talking to you?" Elyan asked.

"I don't know. This is why I didn't tell you; there's nothing to tell. Half the time, I feel like I'm going mad."

"But you have a son?" Gwaine prodded him.

"Yes, Gwaine. Archer. Guinevere was with child when I died."

Elyan shook his head. "That must be strange."

"Elyan," Arthur began, "Did you know that your niece is here? Guinevere's daughter."

"I did not. I knew of her marriage to Leon, but-"

"Arthur." Arthur spun around, to face Freya. Her dark brows were urgently knitted together. "I'm sorry, Elyan, for invading your world, but this is urgent, I'm afraid." Elyan nodded his forgiveness, and she continued. "Arthur, have you seen your father?"

"No. No, I haven't. I didn't think he'd want anything to do with me. Why?"

"He's amassing an army. Arthur, he means to rule this realm."

"Can't you stop him?" Lancelot asked.

"I am bound to allow each human under my charge their free will. I can do nothing. But you can. Arthur, you must talk to him. He knows the rules. While the dead cannot be removed from this place, they can be wounded. If he wounds another soul, then I will have no choice but to obliterate his very existence. Arthur, he means to destroy this world bit by bit. It is magic, and he hates it. Hates me."

"How can you destroy a world?"

"Enslave its people. Remove the joy and happiness, everything that makes Avalon what it is."

"Hasn't it happened before? There are lots of dead tyrants."

"When I first arrived, there was chaos. Death was worse than life, Arthur. So many greedy and cruel men and women. Morgana I enslaved when she first arrived, until she repents from her wickedness. And she will. She is breathing healing magic. She will recover soon."

"But I thought you had to allow all humans their free will?"

"I do. But, like I said, you don't. The murderers... They are examined and tried by their victims. You all were. And you were deemed honest men. Uther too was tried, sentenced to a cage for 100 years, while his anger was removed from him. But... He escaped his cage. When you brought him to the land of the living, Arthur."

Guilt washed over him. "I didn't mean-"

"I know. But now is not the time for apologies. What matters is that Uther is loose. He has great power. And must be stopped."

"Is there nothing that can be done?"

"There is a way. While having the dead meet with the living is often harmful to the living, we have no other choice. And this soul is hardy. My appearance with him brought only blessing. Balinor has found the same to be true. And it shouldn't be too difficult to arrange. Arthur, we need Merlin."