Author's note: I recommend listening to The Ghost on the Shore by Hozier while reading this

Trigger Warning(s): Implications of attempted suicide, drinking, and depression

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"It's been awhile."

It had been roughly 700 years since the downfall of Camelot but even now, in the year of 1664, Merlin still came around to the Lake of Avalon to visit Arthur Pendragon. He was old enough now that keeping track of his age or the day no longer mattered, and so did his promise to himself that time could never erase the late Pendragon king from his memory.

No matter how hard he fought to keep it, Arthur's face was a blur, as was everyone else's from over the years. It was funny, how the person's face he longed to see the most was the first to leave his mind, and the only close to perfect image he could come up with was of Arthur's donkey face. The thought of his old friend braying angrily at him with donkey ears struck some amusement into him. He gave an attempt at a laugh, but it came out more as a dry chuckle.

He may have not been able to recall specific details about Arthur's face anymore, but nothing could make him forget his personality. He knew, for instance, that the stupid prat would kill him for remembering the time he got turned into an ass at that exact moment, when he was long overdue for the ̶y̶̶o̶̶u̶̶n̶̶g̶ ̶s̶̶e̶̶r̶̶v̶a̶̶n̶̶t̶ ̶b̶̶o̶̶y̶'̶s̶ tired old man's visit. He'd cross his arms and give him a snarky remark, like, "It truly amazes me, Merlin, how you have enough money to spend all your time down at the tavern, and not enough to buy yourself a pocket watch."

Merlin couldn't lie, all he did most days was lay in his bed and pretend he was dead (how he had tried) or waste away at whatever bar that hadn't banned him yet. It goes to show how lies could easily become truths with just one bad day...or hundreds of years.

"And it truly amazes me, Arthur, how you haven't figured out by now that the entire universe doesn't revolve around you," Merlin retorted, and his lips quirked upward into something close to a smile when he could almost hear his voice say "You really are a total buffoon, aren't you, Merlin."

"It's not my fault," He argued, pausing when Arthur's imaginary figure raised his eyebrows at him. "Well, it is, but how was I supposed to know I'd get sent away to war?"

There may have been new inventions made since his time, such as warmer clothing and this new fascinating thing called telescopes, but humanity had not changed. Humans were still as reckless and selfish as ever, and the war's were endless.

"And Gwen and Gaius were due a visit," He continued to defend his case to thin air. "I wasn't about to leave them hanging."

"And what did you tell them, when they asked what took you so long," Arthur would say then. "Did you use the same war excuse, or did you fall back on the tavern?"

Merlin was disgruntled. "Hey, I took time out of my very uneventful life to come here and spend my time looking like a psycho talking to himself." Because he was. He didn't need fake Arthur to tell him that, but of course, he did anyway.

"Dollop head," Merlin muttered childishly, doing his best to ignore the sudden lump in his throat and the wetness in his eyes when he remembered when he had first called Arthur that, and his very confused response to it. He wished he had called him that more often when he had the chance, because even though Arthur acted annoyed by him, they both knew he secretly liked their banter. Stop it, stop it, stop it—

His fists clenched together tightly as a sob tore it's way out of his throat. 700 years had gone and the pain, and loneliness he had felt that awful day when he had to stand in a similar position to where he was standing now and watch his brother's body burn, was still very much alive.

"What is taking you so long?!" He cried out to the lake. "You should have been here by now! All those wars, all those disasters, where the hell were you?!"

Arthur didn't reply, of course. He had never been real. He had never been here, listening to his reminiscences of the past, his pleads, or his screams. Merlin didn't know much about the spirit world, but he didn't have a lot of faith that a part of his soul was still out there, somewhere. It had been far too long. What other explanation was there? He would have been here by now. He would have. Or was this his punishment for lying to him throughout their entire relationship?

But still, Merlin continued to visit him. For as often as he could and for as long as he could. He stood out on Avalon's shore so much the locals thought he was a ghost, because it was all he had. And when the lake finally dried up and everything else crumbled to dust, any bit of hope Merlin had left went away with it.

Any time now, Arthur.

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Sorry?

Here's this happy edit to make up for it lmao (not by me)

https://youtu.be/28ZPf58YK9I