He was always there. I knew I called him the worst manservant in the world. Yet even so. Merlin was always there.

He knew when to bring an extra goblet of wine. He knew when I needed to be left alone. He was there when all I wanted was the quiet shuffling of another person in the room with me. He was there when that wasn't enough and his constant chattering distracted me from my day.

He was there when the battle was won. When my eyes refocused. When I came out of my daze. His cheeky grin was the first thing I saw. His joy for something so simple as being alive was astounding.

He was there when we fought. No matter what the words, no matter how many times I reminded him that he was just a peasant. No matter how many times I made him feel like nothing. No matter how many times I made it easy for him to just give up.

He was there. His grin not so shining, his laugh not so bright. But eventually he would bring himself to look into my eyes. And the apology would be there. The one I would never lower myself to say. And he would accept it.

He was there when death called. Time and time again. And he would always bring me back.

He was there when I finally broke into tears. And his presence would eventually make me smile again.

He was there.

He was always there.

Which is why he is here.

Laying in front of me. His slender frame rising and falling in a steady fashion. The deepest of sleep claiming him. He was here. With my hand resting on his bare stomach. Enjoying the feel of its movement. Enjoying the feeling of him just being alive. Being here.

Because while for my first twenty years Merlin wasn't there. He had made up for lost time while he was. And there was no doubt in my mind. That from now on. He will always be there.