Work Text:
Merlin brought the Horn to his lips, breaths coming fast and hard. The Horn of Cathbad… It conjured memories of happier times. Traveling to the Great Stones of Nemeton with Arthur had been a stressful and arduous journey, but at least Arthur had been there. His company was all Merlin asked for. He could tolerate never speaking to him again, but if he could just feel his presence alongside him… He took a deep breath, and blew.
A beat.
A breath.
The trees around him rustled in the breeze, sighing their apologies. Nothing had happened. The Horn hadn’t worked.
Arthur… couldn’t be reached.
Merlin felt tears pooling in his eyes. This had been his last idea, his last ditch effort to contact Arthur. He was gone, really and truly gone, and Merlin just had to hope that Kilgarrah hadn’t been lying when he’d said Arthur would return.
But then, a spark of hope formed in him. If Arthur couldn’t be reached by the Horn of Cathbad, then… he wasn’t in the spirit world. He was… somewhere else. Waiting somewhere else, alive. Or, existing somehow between life and death.
A shaky breath exited Merlin’s chest, and he steeled himself with new resolve. This had proven it - proven, really? It could mean any number of things really, but- yes, proven, of course it was proof. It needs to be proof - and Merlin knew what he had to do now.
So, he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
For his king’s return.