home is where we rest our bones
hunithofealdor
Merlin could feel his legs quivering beneath him as he walked -- trudged. Only one day ago, he had lost his king, his friend, his destiny and his world felt torn, turned upside down. He had lived for Arthur. He was here for Arthur and now he was gone and all he could think of was his mother and how much he wanted to see her, to wrap his arms around her again like the child he felt like.
The walk felt so much longer than it had truly been, but then, time felt slower in general. Finally, though he reached it. Home. Ealdor. He'd grown used to his life in Camelot, to the daily risks, and to the friendships he had both made and lost, but his home was in Ealdor. Nothing would ever change that and he needed that now more than ever.
There it was, the small house by the opposite edge of the little village. He approached, pace quickening until he reached the doorway, pushing open the door. The pack on the warlock's back fell, landing a heap on the floor the moment he spotted his mother across that very room. "Mother?" he whispered, his throat dry, fatigued.