Author's Note: This is my first fanfic that I wrote during Nanowrimo. I hope you will enjoy it. Every chapter starts with a song. It is the song I listened to when I was writing it, and does not necessarily have anythings to with the chapter itself. Feel free to listen to the song if you want to know what was crossing my mind as I wrote.

I do not own Merlin, only borrowing some ideas and characters from the show to create a happier ending to my favorite medieval characters.

Bittersweet by Within Temptation

Merlin was use to grief. He often thought no one grief as much as him. He had pushed so many bodies of his friends into the waters of the lake of Avalon. He had seen the death of people he cared for all around him. William, Freya, Lancelot, and even his own father. But burying them was nothing compared to the pain of burying Arthur.

Merlin's eyes glowed as he pushed the boat into the water. He watched his friend disappear into the horizon, no longer holding in the tears. He cried so much he could barely see his departing friend. He frantically whipped his eyes, wanting to see as much as Arthur as he could until it was too late, until his body had reached the horizon. Even then Merlin stayed by the lake, looking at the direction the boat had floated away. The sky went dark and the sorcerer still didn't move. There were no more tears falling down his face as he had cried them all, but still he wept.

Arthur was gone. Arthur was gone. Arthur was gone. The pain of his failure weighed more on his shoulders than his impossible destiny had ever done. Merlin had saved the King more times than he can count. He had been by his side, protecting him from the numerous dangerous possibilities he faced on a daily basis. He had been there to save Arthur from all life threatening situations, all but once. Once he failed to be there. Once he couldn't use his magic to protect him. Once was all it took for destiny to take Arthur way from him.

The words of the Great Dragon resonated in his mind. What Arthur had accomplish, what Merlin had help him accomplish would become legend for the centuries to come. Thousand would hear about Camelot and Arthur Pendragon, the once and future king.

Once and future king! He would come back, Merlin realized. When Albion would need it most, Arthur would rise again. And when he did, Merlin was going to be by his side. That is what he had decided. When Arthur would come back, Merlin would be waiting, ready to serve him again, as his destiny was. Until then, he would wait for him by the side of this lake.

The sorcerer had to return to Camelot and ready his things for his new life of waiting by the side of Avalon. He would be ready for the King when we would rise once more. As the sun reached great height in the sky, Merlin walked towards the city walls.

Merlin looked upon the gates of Camelot. He remembered how he was the first time he entered into the citadel. He was young and afraid, completely lost. His mother had sent him to go live with Gaius. She was obviously growing worried for her son. Who wouldn't? For a boy such as Merlin to be discovering his powers under the reign of Uther was a truly terrifying thing. Merlin remembers that he used to be afraid of himself, wondering why he was alive to start with. He didn't know why he had magic nor what he had to do with it. He was purposeless and it hurt him. He once told Gaius that without answers, he didn't know if he even wanted to live such a life.

But all that had changed when he met Arthur. Suddenly Merlin knew his destiny. He had reason, purpose. Arthur had been an arse and had made his life a lot more complicated, but he had made it worthwhile and Merlin would forever be grateful for Arthur's presence in his life.

And now Merlin was returning to the castle of Camelot without Arthur, without that person who made it all better. Not only that, he had to be the one to tell the kingdom about his failure.

He entered the main hall. As soon as the doors open, a crowd of worried knight peaked their head and tried to see if their hopes would be rewarded. Their mutters felt to silence as they saw only one figure returning. "Let me pass" a worried voice cried out with hope. Merlin couldn't face Guinevere. As she looked upon him, he shook his head. "I'm sorry" he mouthed as he lazily left the grieving crowd. He could hear the cries of Guinevere in the distance as he walked towards Gaius' chambers. The old man almost ripped open the door as he felt Merlin arrive. Breath let him as he saw Merlin's defeated expression. The young man broke in tears, once more torn by the pain of failing to bring his Lord back home. His legs gave up as he felt to the ground and wept. Gaius patted his back, unsure how to bring comfort the warlock.

Merlin stood up and started to run around the room frantically, looking for any magic books he could find. Worried, the physician questioned the boy. "Once and future King", he spat in panic, "once and future king, once and future king".

"Merlin" Gaius pleaded.

"Arthur is the once and future king. That means he will come back" he dropped the books he was holding to stare at the old man. "He'll come back, and when he does, I have to be ready". The sorcerer returned to his search, throwing the useless books over his shoulders. Gaius had to bend down to avoid being hit by some of the flying rejects. Seeing the pain of the man he considered like a son was heartbreaking.

"I need magic", he explained, "powerful magic, something that will make me survive the test of time". He grabbed the few books that could have any sort of relevance to magic and went to his room, locking the door behind him.

For the days following Merlin barely ever left his room. He spent most of his time either reading in his chambers or ruining back and forth from the castles forbidden book collection from the vaults. No guards dared stop him from entering, not that they could honestly keep him out.

He had already gone through the majority of the forbidden content of the vaults. He only had a handful of books to study and he doubted that he would find such information in them. The sorcerer had to come to the conclusion that Camelot was not the place to find the answers about the teachings of magic. But he wasn't sure if he could leave. The halls of the castle were filled with memories of Arthur, memories that kept he allusion that he was alive. It was stupid but when Merlin was standing in the staples he expected to see Arthur's prattish face barge in at any moment with a list of chores he had to do. It hurt to face such places, but it was a good hurt, the type of nostalgia that soothed his fresh wound.

But Merlin had to go. If he wanted to find a way to live until Arthur's return, which no one knew how long it could take, he had to follow the path of learning, even if it meant leaving the only place he dared to call home. He had to pack his bags and go where others with magic would teach him the things he desperately needed to learn.

As he was ready to leave, Merlin glances towards Arthur's window. The King use to sit there for hours, looking into the courtyard, as he pondered the weight of the thought decision his position forced him to take. The sorcerer ran up the stairs leading to his friend's old chamber. He couldn't leave without bringing a piece of Arthur with him.

He opened the door and as soon as he did, he was reminded why he had avoided this part of the castle. The room still smelled like Arthur. He was everywhere you looked. Merlin could almost see the King lying in bed, standing by the window, sitting at his desk. Merlin had to fight the tears away as he started to snoop around. He looked upon the bed he had made for Arthur before leaving for Camlann. It was still intact. Some part of Merlin wanted to mess it up just to be able to place it back in order, as he did so many times before. He saw the decoration pillow resting on the sheets. How many times had Arthur thrown it to his face? Merlin grabbed it and shoved it in his bag.

We was about to leave when he saw the cape that bearded the crest of Camelot hanging by the door. Without thinking he grabbed it, folding it around his arms. Now he was ready to leave. He got out of Camelot without looking back. His destiny was no longer there. The inside of the citadel would not bring Arthur back. Only his departure could bring him closer to the place he ought to occupy by the side of his King.

And so Merlin left for the outsides of Camelot, venturing into the lands of the druids, looking for anyone with more magic. He knew there was a way, he was positive of it. Merlin had made himself age more time than he could count. There must have been a way to keep him young. A spell, an herb, a variation of the potion he already used to return to his natural state, something, anything. As long as it would make him survive the test of time so he could assist Arthur in his eventual return, he would be happy.

Merlin had spent a decade looking for such magic. And he did find it. He found it in a land to the east, across a sea, on a territory he did not recognize. There was a tribe of Celtic wizards who claimed to have had cheated old age by drinking the cider of the fruit growing on the oldest tree of their land. Merlin found out that they had succeeded to live longer for a few years, but the drink wasn't everlasting. It needed a little more magic, something that Merlin was capable of providing. He had started to play with the elixir when rumors of war had reached his ears. It was said that the land he inhabited was planning to attack Albion.

Merlin's heart pounded with tentative hope. Was this the tragedy for which Arthur would return? He did not waste a moment, packed the fruit and left the Celts. He could not travel fast enough. Using his magic to increase his speed, Merlin rushed to the lake of Avalon. He stood by the side of the water where he had pushed his friend to rest ten years ago and looked out for any type of change in the surface. He could hear the steps of the enemy troops marching towards the citadel. His heart jumping in his chest every time a wave moved in the lake. He looked out for any sign of Arthur's return, waited for anything. He could hear the screams of the courtly men as the war started at the gates. There was no movement in the lake. The cries of the fallen soldiers were resonated so loudly they could be heard from the shores on which Merlin stood. Still nothing changed on the water. When it became apparent that the enemy was hurting civilians the sorcerer had to step away from Avalon's shore. If he did not intervene soon, there would be nothing for Arthur to return to. His people were being slaughtered and his kingdom destroyed. Merlin had to admit to himself that this war was not the time where Albion needed its leader most.

So Merlin left the lake and made his way to Camelot. His presence was going to be needed by the sick and wounded, not by the unmoving waters of the lake. As a physician, he could help diminish the amount of casualties fallen in the battle.

When the young warlock walked into the castle, Guinevere jumped on Merlin, hugging him as hard as she could. They did not talk. The hug was all that was needed to be exchange in such a pressing moment. The Queen showed him to the emergency room. Gaius smiled as Merlin marched into the injured hall. It has been years since they last saw each other but fell into shared work instantly, there was no time to lose. The number of injured was growing by the minute and had to be dealt with as soon as possible.

"Merlin, we need to heal the knights at best of we can" Guinevere pointed out as Merlin applied a bandage on a man's leg.

"I know Gwen" he replied.

"No Merlin, I don't think you know" she pulled on his arm, making him face her. "We have to do whatever it takes" she precise. "Even if it requires magic" she whispered.

Merlin stood back, surprised, but nodded in agreement.

"Things have changed since you left" Gaius explained as they both leaned over a patient. "Gwen isn't against magic. It is not legalized, but it isn't punished either."

"We'll talk later Gaius, this man needs herbs to slow his bleeding or he will die of his injuries".