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When Merlin goes to sleep that night, in his crappy little apartment at the edge of London, he doesn't feel it.
These days, he doesn't feel much any more, dulled out by the constant noise of the city, and he welcomes it most days, when he tries to forget he's still waiting.
So after his mind finally lets go of him and he leaves consciousness behind for now, it's not the comforting darkness he's expecting.
There's light, just enough for him to recognize his surroundings; the same lake that had been haunting him for centuries.
He was sitting up against a tree, and when he looked down his hands were free of wrinkles and his bones weren't aching. A smile crept up his cheeks.
“You're here.“
“Of course I'm here, idiot.“
Arthur's voice was nothing more than a scoff as he dropped down next to his dark-haired companion, just close enough for their shoulders to press together.
“I've been thinking, you know. Magic, hm? That's the worst euphemism I've ever heard.“
Eyebrows drawn together in confusion, Merlin turned his head to look at Arthur.
“Euphemism? I've missed your delusions.“
Arthur shook his head in amusement, clasping Merlin's shoulder a little bit too hard for it to be affectionate.
“Still can't hide your big gay crush on me, can you?“
Merlin froze, his lips slightly parted as Arthur tilted his head to meet his gaze, and let his eyes flicker towards Merlin's mouth for a second.
The magician was so tired of words, so tired of dreams being nothing but dreams that he couldn't help but drown in the sheer reality of his surroundings, the reality of Arthur being there with him, and tentatively, he brought up his hands to cup his prince's face, bodies turning towards each other.
“And you still are a coward.“
“Oh, shut up, Arthur.“
Raising his eyebrows in mock outrage, Arthur was about to reply but he found his mouth covered with Merlin's, their lips fitting together as perfectly as their bodies had a many hundred years ago.
They stayed like that for a while, tongues curious and playful as they tasted each other, hands rediscovering what they'd lost long ago.
After they'd finally let go of each other, Merlin rested his head on Arthur's shoulder, fingers entwined as if it could stop him from waking up.
“So now that you're so full of wisdom ... are you going to come back?“
Contemplating, Arthur let his thumb caress Merlin's hand for a few minutes before looking down at the ground.
“Well, you'll have to find a way to get my spirit back into your world, I suppose, but I have faith in you, you know.“
Merlin let out a dry laugh, but didn't move much; it wasn't really worth disturbing the peace.
“Even now I have to drag your sorry ass everywhere. Nothing's really changed, has it?“
“Oh, I hope not. And whatever spell you use better have you return to your old self, too; but as far as I'm concerned, this dream is an omen. I'll need you young and pretty for this second life.“
“Now you're talking of omens. Clearly, everything has changed.“
Fondly, Arthur pressed a kiss on top of Merlin's head and let his foot bump against his friend's. There was no way to tell how long they'd been here already, but from now on there shouldn't be any rush. It was time.
“Only for the better, Merlin.“