A/N: There you go. Epilogue. Won't say more. The feels, damn the feels. I had to rewatch the finale in order to get this right, and it left me depressed to the point of crawling on the floor. So here, it's the end. Laugh all you want, I'm sad. I had a lot of fun writing this.

Thank you again for reading, favoriting, etc. And an enormous thank-you hug to anyone who took the time to review, each one of them was and will be very appreciated.

I hope you enjoyed the story so far, and that you will enjoy this epilogue too.

The Wonders of Magic

Epilogue

Arthur felt the crown weight upon his brow, as if Geoffrey of Monmouth had just poured a cauldron of molten lead on his head instead of crowning him king of Camelot. He barely listened to the end of the coronation ceremony, and when it was time to get back on his feet and face his people, he thought he would never manage to get up.

He worked his knees so that he would stand again on his feet, his cape heavy on his shoulders. He turned around slowly, his face inexpressive. Geoffrey then shouted "Long live the king!", and the people in front of him repeated the words, hailing their new king and ruler.

The king is dead, long live the king, he thought bitterly.

His father was dead. Morgana had succeeded in at least that. Arthur's gaze trailed along the high doors on the other side of the throne room, face still blank. The way Merlin had battled with her though, had not let her escape unharmed. It was safe to think that she was not dead, but she will probably not show herself again before some time.

Arthur frowned, and his eyes fell on Merlin, on the front rows. He wasn't hailing him like the others, but seemed to have been steadily looking at him throughout the ceremony. His hands were clasped at his back, his face unreadable, and their eyes locked. There was no need for words. For a moment, it was as though they were alone in the room. The cries of celebration were dulled, and everything seemed to slow down.

Merlin cast a sad smile at Arthur, his eyes telling him many things in a single look. It gave him back the strength he needed.

Arthur straightened, stiffening his shoulders, looked purposely at his people and raised both hands to quell the hails. He began the speech he had to make.

"People of Camelot, I will hereby begin my reign by making a declaration..."

oooooooooo

"Merlin! Did you hid my crown or something?"

"Why in Kilgharrah's name would I do that?!"

"With you, I never know..." Arthur muttered.

"I heard that!"

"Maybe you're jealous of the regal attitude it gives me and you stole it from me, for all I know!" the Prince joked.

"I certainly do not want it for myself. It's heavy, pointy and way too thick."

Merlin came out from behind the screen where he had been dressing, adjusting his belt. Arthur couldn't help but look at him in the middle of his search for his crown. Merlin wore black boots and tight, dark grey pants. His shirt was also black, and over that he had a long, dark blue coat which was left open, silvery patterns sewn on the rim of the sleeves, which were rather large around his wrists, and also down the sides that were not closed on his chest. A belt made of palm-sized circles of silver-like metal was worn over all of this, dangling down the knees and accentuating Merlin's narrow hips. He wore a silver chain around his neck, with a small pendant shaped like a dragon, though it was not the Pendragon crest.

Feeling Arthur's eyes on him, he stopped fiddling with the belt and put his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows.

"What? Were you not frantically looking around for the very symbol of your kingly self?"

Arthur chuckled. Merlin looked good in these clothes.

"Still saying you hid it somewhere."

"I did not! I already have enough to worry about with this thing!" He reached for the nearest dresser and picked up a thin silver circle engraved with a pattern of leaves, making it hang off one of his fingers and spinning it around carelessly. "Whose idea was it already that I should wear this?"

"Mine, you idiot!" Arthur rolled his eyes, and said sarcastically: "Sorry, my lord, next time I appoint you Advisor of the King and Court Sorcerer of Camelot, I will ensure it does not go against your sense of fashion!" Merlin dramatically held his hand to his heart, making a show of looking deeply hurt. "And don't give me your usual silliness."

Merlin gave up the act and crossed his arms.

"Then, what's with the crown, dearest king? It is your job to wear one."

"We already talked about this, Merlin," he said calmly, resuming his search for the royal accessory that stubbornly refused to be found. Arthur thought idly that maybe Merlin had rubbed off on it in terms of stubbornness. "It's been three years since my father passed away, and the very first thing I did after having that damned crown up my head was denunciating all my father's views on magic, and assure the people that magic would only be punished if it was used to evil ends. It caused an uproar in the kingdom. It's also been two years that I decided to give you the place you deserve at my side. With the crown thing, I made a point of presenting you as my equal and my most trusted ally, who also happened to be a sorcerer. It was a strong act meant for the people and all the magic users to see and acknowledge."

Merlin sighed, and put on the small silver circle, adjusting it around his head and ruffling his short hair around it.

"I know all that. I'm sorry. I just feel silly whenever I wear it. But I understand the need." He stepped toward Arthur, who was absent-mindedly lifting the pillows on his bed, and rested a hand on his arm. Arthur's other hand raised and brushed a slight caress on Merlin's, before curling around his fingers and squeezing affectionately.

"And, now that you mention it," Merlin said slowly, "I might know where your crown is..."

"What? Where?"

"Under the wardrobe."

"... What in the hell would it be doing under there?"

Merlin's smile was positively wicked.

"I may have thrown it a little bit too enthusiastically after I took it off your head last night, right before I toppled you on the bed..."

"Merlin!"

This particular way of saying his name will always make him smile. He whirled around Arthur, grinning madly and making a quick escape to the door.

"Hurry up and get it back, we have to marry Gwen and Lancelot in less that fifteen minutes!" He laughed wholeheartedly at the curses directed at him. "I love you too!"

oooooooooo

Arthur dragged Merlin by the arm from the throne room to his chambers. Merlin had a big smile on his face, placidly accepting to be led by his king. They arrived to the king's rooms, and Arthur slammed the door open, dragged Merlin in and slammed it shut, before pressing his lover against it, his hands already roaming his chest. He pressed open-mouthed kisses on the pale skin of Merlin's neck, who inhaled sharply at the so-well-known hands on him.

"I thought the feast was never going to end," Arthur moaned into Merlin's neck, sucking and licking it between words. "The moment when the king can excuse himself is very far away from the beginning of the festivities..."

"Come on, Arthur, we celebrate the wedding of two friends..."

"Yes, but I wanted you. Gwen and Lance were bedded almost an hour ago. Gwen's face when Percival threw her over his shoulder..." Arthur giggled, and tugged at Merlin's belt to undo it.

"And Lance was just looking apologetic when Gwaine and Elyan dragged him forward." Merlin helped Arthur with his belt, and it clanged on the floor. His coat followed, sliding down his back. "You've had too much to drink, Arthur," he whispered at the same time he was unbuckling Arthur's belt, letting it fall and join his own belt and coat next to their feet.

"You're not better," Arthur mumbled, and he pulled Merlin in for a kiss, heated and loving, tender and rough, all at the same time. "Finally," he breathed against Merlin's lips before kissing him more.

Merlin roamed his hands under Arthur's shirt, and moved one leg between the blond's, feeling the arousal here, and rubbed against it, making the other moan.

"Someone will obviously start asking questions as to why you're not in your own rooms more than half of the time," Arthur mumbled, leaving Merlin's mouth to bite at his neck. Merlin snorted.

"Because you think there are still people who don't know about us?"

"Are there?"

"Probably the farmers from the village the furthest from Camelot, yes..." Merlin pushed Arthur off him and took off his silver crown, putting it on the table near them. He whirled to face his king again, and tenderly took the royal crown off, placing it near his own. "Do you know what the people call me now? You've never heard it? I'm not quite the king's advisor or personal sorcerer to them. They call me the prince consort!"

It was Arthur's turn to snort.

"Well, that's fitting!" He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it somewhere. "Now come here, Prince Consort. Which is true, by the way. I shall write a decree. If I die, you rule the kingdom."

Merlin stared at Arthur, watching him stretch and trailing his eyes longingly on the body of the man he loved.

"That wouldn't be wise. You won't die without me," he said simply, and upon these words, he embraced Arthur tightly, seeking his mouth and kissing him passionately.

Arthur groaned, pulled roughly on Merlin's shirt to remove it, and they both kicked their boots off before tumbling on the bed in a heap of arms and legs clutching and caressing everywhere they could.

"I love you, Arthur," Merlin whispered almost desperately while undoing the blond's pants.

"And I you."

And this answer was offered unconditionally, the words voiced once, echoing into the blue eyes, and confirmed by a hand lovingly caressing one cheek.

oooooooooo

"Tell me something I don't know."

Merlin quirked an eyebrow at Arthur questioningly. They were laying against each other, naked, their legs tangled in the sheets and with each other. Arthur laid on his back, and Merlin was snuggled against his side, his arm thrown over the blond's waist.

"Something you don't know?"

"About you," Arthur clarified with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Something you don't know about me? Arthur, I hate to break it to you, but I don't think there are still things of importance that you don't know about me."

"Then tell me something unimportant that I don't know about you." Arthur was trying hard to suppress a grin, and Merlin saw it.

"Prat," he mumbled, chuckling when his hair was ruffled in punishment. "Well. Let's see." Merlin was thinking hard. He threw his head back in defeat. "Really, nothing comes to mind right now. Every magic feat, you know about it. Your father once married a troll? The very first time I used magic in your presence was to kill that mud creature in the sewers with your torch? I wanted to flay you alive with magic the first time I ever saw you? You know all this. I hate salted fish?"

"Really? You hate salted fish? I never noticed."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"You never pay attention to anything anyway."

"Not true!" Arthur whacked at Merlin's shoulder playfully. "Hey, wait a minute. Flay me alive?" Merlin only snorted, earning another punch in the arm.

They were silent for some time, just enjoying each other's company. Merlin sighed softly.

"You know, I once said to you that I would be happy to be your servant until the day I die."

"Yes, right before going to that island to sacrifice yourself for me when I was dying from some beast's venom?"

Merlin felt Arthur's arm around him tighten at the words, and he squeezed his side reassuringly.

"Yes. Well, I meant it. I never asked you to make me your advisor or anything."

"Yes, well, I know that too. I had to make my point, like making you wear a crown. And since I love you, I filled the gap between our ranks because I didn't want anyone to consider you inferior ever again. After all you did..."

Merlin kept silent, and simply embraced Arthur tighter.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Arthur planted a kiss on top of his head.

oooooooooo

"We have to make it to the lake," Merlin gasped, but his legs gave away under the weight of Arthur draped around his shoulders.

He had just killed Morgana, going through her with Arthur's magic sword, and twisting the blade inside her, but his concerns were all focused around Arthur, who had fallen on top of him, and whom he was trying to get back up on his feet.

"Merlin, not without the horses. We can't, it's too late..." Merlin grabbed Arthur's chest from behind, refusing to acknowledge the tranquil resignation in his king's voice. "It's too late... With all your magic, Merlin, you can't save my life..."

"No, I can't. But I'm not gonna lose you!"

Merlin tried to get better access to Arthur's arms and pull him up, but the blond just patted the hand that was on his chest, trying to stop Merlin's frantic attempts.

"Just... Just... Just hold me, please." Merlin stopped moving, and his head rested a bit on Arthur's shoulder. "There's something I want to say," he added.

"You're not going to say goodbye," Merlin choked, anger in his voice at feeling so useless.

"No, Merlin..." Arthur gathered his wits. "Everything you've done... I've known for some time now. For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you've helped me build..."

"You would have done it without me."

Arthur let out a laugh, but it didn't last long.

"Maybe..." The blond seemed to slip away a bit, and Merlin stared at him in despair and disbelief, before his lover's eyes focused on him once more. "I already said thank you before, for everything." He smiled up at Merlin, and raised his arm to clasp his hand behind Merlin's head, staring deep into his eyes. "And... There is nowhere else I'd like to be in this moment."

Arthur's eyes rolled, and his hand fell back.

"Arthur? No, Arthur!"

The blue eyes snapped back into focused, looked at him, and finally closed again. Merlin yelled Arthur's name several times, on the brink of tears, and suddenly looked up at the sky, shouting the words that would summon Kilgharrah. He rested his forehead against Arthur's, tears rolling freely on his face.

With the help of the dragon, he managed to bring Arthur to the banks of the lake of Avalon, and he started desperately dragging Arthur's body near the waters.

"Merlin," Kilgharrah said, sorrow echoing in his voice, caused by the fate that had stricken the two men. "There's nothing you can do."

"I failed," Merlin stated blankly, stopping in his tracks.

"No, young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building have come to pass."

Merlin hoisted the body in his arms higher, shouting.

"I can't lose him! He's my friend, I love him!"

"Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold, Merlin. Arthur is not just a king, he is the Once and Future King. Take heart," he added, knowing that his words couldn't soothe the world of pain he was seeing in front of him, "for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again."

Merlin stared down at Arthur, disbelief written all over his face.

"It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men. Also," he said, inclining his head toward Merlin, "I am sorry."

Upon these words, Kilgharrah took flight again. Merlin rested gently Arthur's body on the ground, and stared at the lake of Avalon before him. He had an impulse to yell to Albion's needs to go to hell and never come back. After all this time, after all that he had done, maybe he deserved to be a little selfish? He clenched his jaw. It was not what Arthur would have wanted.

Taking Arthur's sword, he threw it far into the lake, amazed to see a feminine hand rise up from the water to grab the handle and slowly bring it under. So there was hope. Maybe.

Some time later, Merlin had arranged Arthur's body on a boat - there always was a boat when you needed one near magical places. Even when the need was as dire as a friend's funeral. Tears rolling on his cheeks, he rested his hand on Arthur's brow, and started sobbing. He regained his composure briefly, brushed his friend, love, and king's face one more time, and with a whisper of magical words, he sent the boat away toward the central isle. Tears rolled freely once again.

The kingdom of Camelot never saw Merlin again.

oooooooooo

The old man sat on a lonely bench, along the pedestrian road making its way around the lake. He had been here since early in the morning, and had not moved since he arrived. He let his gaze trail back and forth on the dark waters before him, sometimes staring for long minutes at the island in the middle of it.

His joints ached, and he absent-mindedly rubbed his hands against each other. This particular day of the year was the one when he felt the most the weight of all his years, so he chose his appearance consequently. Looking eighty years old was old enough for him, because no matter the centuries that had passed, he would not look older than what he looked like right now. Maybe some days he had thought that it was a curse. Maybe there was no hope after all.

He stared at the lake some more, and more again, until the sun was low in the sky and the air had lost its warmth. The old man got up wearily, walked to the bank and knelt awkwardly. He reached out his hand and dipped it into the water, closing his eyes and staying like that a few moments.

He then got up, wiped his hand on his trousers and rubbing his eyes glistening with tears. He cast a last look at the lake, about to leave, when he froze and stared. The evening had brought fog around the island in the middle of the lake, but there was something through it. A form moved forward, gliding on the waters, and the old man, after a few minutes, could make out a boat, advancing toward the shore.

Staring at it until he could see a human figure standing on the boat, the old man blinked, and suddenly he was standing straighter. His slumped shoulders seemed to straighten, as well as his back. The twinkling in his blue eyes didn't disappear as his face became something else, younger, with sharp features and prominent cheekbones and full lips. His hair shortened and darkened until it was a mop of ruffled black curls. The weight had lifted, and he had gotten so used to it he thought he was floating. He could be young again. He gave his very first real smile since then. The figure became clearer, revealing a tall blond man in shining chainmail, red cape flowing behind him, with a square jaw, blond bangs and blue eyes as timeless as the ones belonging to the man who had waited for him so long. A single tear rolled down the face of the one standing on the bank of the lake.

It was over. Finally.

"Arthur," he breathed.

The End