Hey guys!
So ever since I watched Series 5 of Merlin, I always felt that there were so many things they missed out. I didn't really feel a sense of closure after watching the last episode. So what I've done, is planned out a series of one-shots, of different things that I felt the series was missing, or different ways it could have gone. I don't know whether I'll be starting any of the others, but this is one that I felt like I needed to write.
It took me a few attempts to get it right, because I needed it to be perfect. Of course, it'll never be perfect, but I'm still pretty proud of this. I will admit, towards the end, I cried. So be warned, because I've never cried whilst writing something before. Ever.
The first bit does go along with the original scene, but please stick with it. I promise it will be worth it in the end. It's quite long, but please don't give up halfway through because I'm really proud of the ending.
I tried not to make it Merthur, but the story just kind of took over, and . . . well, you'll have to read it till the end to find out. I will warn you as well, that it's pretty long, so brace yourselves! You're gonna need snacks . . . and possibly tissues.
Anyway, I hope you like it!
Megan :)
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"The person who defeated them was a sorcerer."
"It was me. I'm a sorcerer, I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you."
"Merlin, why don't you water the horses?" said Gaius, sitting himself next to Arthur. It was early morning, and he had just found Merlin and Arthur in the forest. Merlin had explained Arthur's condition, and Gaius had spent the last few hours collecting the right herbs. Still, it only took one look at Arthur to know that herbs weren't going to be enough.
Arthur lay on a cover on the forest floor, propped up against a fallen tree-trunk. His side was clearly badly wounded, and was bleeding even through his chain-mail. Gaius sat beside him on a tree stump, herbs in hand, and placed his hand on Arthur's forehead. Already, he was burning up. But he didn't want to show any cause for concern, so remained calm. He didn't want to give Merlin anything else to worry about, though they all knew Arthur was dying. "And make sure they're fed. We can't hide here for much longer."
Merlin took in Gaius' words slowly; he was still very much in shock. Arthur was dying. Arthur was dying, and he knew that Merlin had magic. And he was angry. It was a lot to take in at the moment. As soon as he made sense of Gaius' words, he knew what he was doing. He was trying to get Arthur alone, to talk to him. About what, Merlin could not be sure, but it probably wouldn't be good.
He took one last hesitant look at Arthur, before walking off back to the horses.
As soon as Merlin turned, Arthur opened his eyes slightly. Peering through slits, he watched Merlin walk away, and over to the horses. He was still finding it hard to stop thinking of him as the same Merlin that he'd always been. Because he wasn't the same. He was a sorcerer. He'd lied. All the years they'd known each other, all the things that they'd shared . . . he'd been lying the entire time.
When he could be sure that Merlin could no longer hear, Arthur leaned over, gripping Gaius' arm tightly. His eyes were wide and fearful, and Gaius had a feeling he knew what was coming.
"He's . . . a sorcerer," Arthur whispered. Even after all the thinking he'd done, he still felt bad about betraying Merlin. He'd kept his . . . magic a secret for so long, that it felt almost wrong of him to be telling someone, even if it was Gaius. He felt like he was betraying his friendship somehow. Despite the fact that he still felt betrayed himself.
But Gaius said nothing. He simply gave Arthur a stern, knowing look, and suddenly, everything made sense. The reason why Merlin had been told to leave his old village . . . the reason he'd been sent to Gaius in the first place . . . the whispers and the secrets between the two of them . . . all of their "herb collecting" and "special books" . . . Gaius knew.
"You knew." How could he have been so stupid? Arthur sighed, leaning back onto the blanket again. Of course Gaius knew! He was the closest thing Merlin had to family in Camelot, and was as near to a father as Merlin had ever gotten. There was no way Merlin could have kept that a secret, living in such close quarters with this man. But then again, Arthur could have thought the same about Merlin and himself.
"Arthur, he is your friend." Gaius tried to reason with him, leaning towards the young King. Sometimes, he felt as though Arthur could be as close-minded as his father. He could never see the bigger picture, could never accept change, no matter how good it may be. In no way was Arthur as cold or cruel as Uther, and Gaius respected him for that. He stood up for his beliefs, and what was right. However, things weren't always so black and white when it came to right and wrong, and that was something that Arthur struggled to understand.
"I want him gone." Arthur replied coldly, not even looking at Gaius. Not only had he been lied to by Merlin, one of his few true friends (or so he'd thought), but also by the man he considered to be his uncle. He wondered who else knew. Surely Gwen? She and Merlin had been so close in the beginning . . . Morgana? No, she probably would've killed Merlin by now if she'd known . . . Mordred. Mordred had known. It only made sense.
"There is no need to fear him."
Arthur almost scoffed at that. Of course there was reason to fear him! He was a sorcerer! All his life, Arthur had been told that sorcery was a thing of evil, and that it was not to be touched, upon pain of death. He was told that it was corrupted, and dark, and that sorcerers were not to be trusted. After all, sorcery had killed both his parents. Magic always came with a price.
"Have him take word to Camelot. To Geneviere." he said, pretending not to have heard him. He turned back to Gaius, pleading. He just wanted Merlin gone. He needed time to think about this, time to decide what he was going to do. Everything was just happening all at once, and it was a little too much for him to take in. If Merlin went away for a while, Gaius could heal him, and they could talk about everything when he returned to Camelot.
"You cannot send Merlin. I'll go." Arthur looked away again, sighing. He had known it was a long shot. But he also knew that he was fooling himself. He wasn't going to return to Camelot, ever again. He was dying, and they all knew it. There was no time to waste thinking about things, or time to talk things over. He was going to die, sooner more than later.
"I need a physician right now, not a sorcerer." he muttered, but he knew he was already losing. He didn't want to look the old man in the eye though, for fear that he would be able to see everything that Arthur so badly didn't want him to. He was going to die, and there was nothing that anyone could do about it. Not Gaius, not Merlin, no one.
"He can do far more than me . . . far more than you can ever imagine. Arthur, he doesn't just have magic . . ." Gaius whispered, not wanting Merlin to hear. He knew how Merlin felt about his destiny, and the prophecy. It was a big weight on his shoulders, and he didn't want him to be reminded of that. Especially not right now. Arthur turned to Gaius with interest, raising an eyebrow. "There are those who say he is the greatest sorcerer to walk the Earth."
"Merlin?" For a moment, Arthur was sure he was joking. He had to be. There was no way that Merlin, was the greatest sorcerer to walk the Earth. No way. But then again, Arthur would have sworn on his own life and all those in Camelot that there was no way Merlin could be a sorcerer in the first place. If he had learned anything in these past few days, it was that people could surprise you.
"If you're to stand any chance of survival, you'll need Merlin to help you, not me."
"But Gaius . . . he lied. He lied to me all this time." Arthur said, trying to reason with him. Clearly Gaius wasn't understanding the situation. He couldn't have Merlin here, he just couldn't. Arthur was aware that these were going to be his last few days, and having Merlin around would just jumble his thoughts. He should be thinking of Gwen, of his people, and what word to send to all of them that they would find comforting.
"Arthur, I think there is something that you need to understand . . ." Gaius said, leaning in even further. He knew Merlin wouldn't like that he was saying these things, but he felt like he had to. Arthur thought that Merlin was a traitor . . . a liar. If these were to be his last few days, that wasn't the note that their relationship should end on. He had to do something. "That boy, has done more for you than he would ever admit. More than you could ever understand. Everything he says, everything he does . . . is for you, and the Kingdom that he helped you build. He's been there, right by your side, from the beginning. Even if you didn't always know it."
"What has Merlin ever done for me?" Arthur asked, shaking his head.
"Everything. Were it not for his magic, you would not have even survived Merlin's first night in Camelot." he continued, because clearly Arthur still didn't understand. He kept his voice to a whisper, but the anger in it was evident to even him. "You have no idea how much he's done for you, how much he's given up. Because he'd never admit to it. Because he never asks for anything in return. He's been there for you from the beginning, in every way possible. And you couldn't even begin to understand how much he's been through. Because he'd never tell you. Because you didn't want to know."
Suddenly, Gaius heard footsteps coming back through the forest. Merlin was back.
He gathered his herbs, and stood, placing them on the stump he'd been sitting on. He gave Arthur one last, pleading look. He hoped that he'd do the right thing, and sort things about between him and Merlin. And that he'd get the chance to thank him for everything that he'd done. Because if Arthur never forgave Merlin for lying to him . . . it would destroy the poor boy.
Gaius made his way back over to Merlin, leaving Arthur to his thoughts. And Arthur had plenty to think about.
It wasn't until the next night, that Arthur decided he'd had enough time to think. Not that there would ever be enough time to think about this, but it would have to do. It was becoming clear that he didn't have much time left, and if they didn't talk about this now, there would probably never be another chance. There were things that he needed to know. There were things that he needed Merlin to know.
Odd, how these were probably his last few hours, yet all he could think about was Merlin. Funny, that.
He was propped up against a tree-trunk, once again. He found it hard to sit up by himself now, and even harder to walk. They were going to rest for a while, before heading off later. Merlin said it wasn't much further to the lake, but it no longer mattered. Arthur knew he was only hanging on by a thread. They would reach the lake by morning, if they were lucky. But Arthur doubted he would make it through the night. He had to say this now, for he might not get another chance.
"Merlin . . . whatever happens . . ." Arthur began, and he was struggling for breath. But this was important, and he had to say it. Merlin had to know . . . he had to. He didn't want to die, leaving Merlin thinking that he'd never cared, that everything he'd done meant nothing. Because it didn't. It meant everything. And he still didn't even know the full story.
"Shhhhhh!" Merlin said, placing his hand gently on Arthur's chest. "Don't talk."
"I'm the King Merlin, you can't tell me what to do," Arthur shook his head, but they both knew he was only teasing. And he saw something flicker behind Merlin's eyes. Hope, perhaps? Whatever it was, it vanished so quickly, Arthur couldn't be sure if he'd even seen it at all. Merlin grinned.
"I always have," Merlin replied, and a smile tugged at Arthur's lips. That was one of the things he loved best about Merlin. While everybody else bowed down to him, and bended to his every whim, Merlin was never like that. They agreed with him, never questioned him, because of his status. Merlin was the only one who'd never cared. He was the first one to stand up to Arthur when he was wrong. Which was a lot. "I'm not going to change now."
"I don't want you to change," Arthur said suddenly. He wasn't even sure where the words had come from . . . but they felt right. It was as if, for the first time in his life, he just knew what to say. "I want you . . . to always be you."
For a moment, the words just hung in the air. Merlin could barely even believe what he was hearing. Did that mean . . . no, he couldn't. But . . . what if? Had Arthur finally accepted his magic? Did he believe now that Merlin was still the same person he'd always been? That he was still his friend? He tried not to hope too much, but he was so sure . . .
"I'm sorry, about how I treated you," Arthur added, and Merlin felt a wave of relief rush over him. Arthur was sorry. He accepted him. He didn't want him to change. Merlin knew that his magic was what made him, and the fact that Arthur accepted that now . . . it made him feel like laughing and crying all at the same time.
"Does that mean you're going to give me a day off?" he joked. He didn't really know why he'd said it, but Arthur grinned, and began to laugh. Even in his last few hours, even when he was dying, Merlin still managed to cheer him up. And that was the moment he knew. The moment he knew that he'd never find another friend like Merlin, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to.
"Two," he replied, and they both chuckled, despite the pain in Arthur's side.
When the laughing died down, there was a short, cutting silence between them. A moment, just a moment, where something changed. Something between them . . . shifted. It was like they were two completely different people. After everything that'd happened in the last few days . . . they would never be the same again. They were starting all over again, but in the best way.
"Merlin?" Arthur asked, and Merlin looked at him, searchingly. Arthur could tell he was looking for things that were wrong, as his tone had suddenly turned serious. But nothing was wrong, nothing Merlin could fix, anyway. This was something that Arthur had to fix for himself. "I was talking to Gaius yesterday, and . . . well, he said something. Something that . . . I'd never really thought about before. He said that . . . that I'd never know how much you do for me . . . what did he mean?"
"I . . . I don't know," Merlin muttered, in such a way that Arthur could tell that he knew exactly what he was talking about. He raised an eyebrow knowingly, and Merlin sighed, looking down at the cold, forest floor. "I . . . It doesn't matter now. You're dying, I've failed. All those things I did . . . they were all for nothing . . ."
"I'll be the judge of that," Arthur replied, and Merlin's head shot up, confused. Arthur looked him in the eye sternly. "Show me."
"What?" Merlin asked, keeping his face close to Arthur's.
"You heard me, show me." Arthur stated, but Merlin still looked extremely confused. Some things never changed. "Use your magic to show me. You can do that . . . can't you?"
"I . . . I guess so. I've never really tried before . . ." Merlin said, trying to back out. But he saw the determination in Arthur's eyes. There was just something about him that meant he could never deny Arthur anything. Perhaps it was because of his destiny. Perhaps it was because he was his servant. But he knew deep down, that neither of those things had anything to do with it. He sighed, "Alright, I'll try . . ."
Merlin sat down on the grass, facing Arthur. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his memories, and everything that he needed to show him. Everything that Arthur didn't know. He reached back into his mind to all of the tears and the heartache and the pain, bringing it forward. He didn't know any spells for this sort of thing, but already, he could feel the magic spreading through his body again. It was as if he just . . . knew.
Keeping his eyes closed, he reached out his hands to Arthur. He placed two fingers on his temples, and concentrated all his energy into pushing the memories onto him, projecting them into Arthur's mind. He wasn't sure if it would work at first, but then, he felt it. A rush spread through his entire body, and down his arms. He heard Arthur gasp at the impact, and then there was a bright, white flash.
The images and memories began to play themselves out in Arthur's mind, and Merlin found that he was no longer in control of them. He didn't seem to be able to filter what he was seeing, some of it Arthur knew already, but some Merlin would rather he didn't.
The dagger flew towards Arthur. Merlin stands to the side, watching in horror. He has to do something. Focusing on the dagger, he slows down time, jumping to Arthur's side. He grabs him by the shoulders, and pulls him out of the way. The dagger hits the chair seconds later, just where Arthur had been standing.
"If I can't use magic then what have I got? I'm just a nobody and I always will be!"
Merlin sees Morgana walking out of Camelot. He decides to follow her, as she begins walking into the forest. At first, he doesn't suspect anything. He just wants to make sure that nothing happens to her, and to find out where she's going. But then he sees the mysterious, backward glances she keeps throwing, trying to make sure that no one's following her. He watches as she is surrounded by men, listening intently.
"Because I want Uther dead too."
He runs to the Dragon's Cave, and awakes him. His head is spinning, and he's no longer sure what to do. Nothing makes sense anymore. Everything's happening so fast, and nobody seems to be making any sense anymore. He just wants things to go back to how they were. When things were simple. He asks the Dragon for advice.
"Do . . . nothing."
"What do you mean? If I do nothing, Uther will die!"
"Don't you want Uther dead? It is Uther that persecutes you and your kind, Merlin. It is Uther that murders the innocent . . ."
"But surely it isn't right to kill him!"
"Only if Uther dies can magic return to the land. Only if Uther dies will you be free, Merlin. Uther's reign is at an end. Let Arthur's reign begin. Fulfil your destiny!"
Merlin runs to find Uther and Morgana, and finds them just as the attack begins. They don't even notice at first. This is good. Perhaps he can thwart the attack without Uther even knowing it was going to happen. At first, he doesn't know why he's doing it. Why he decided to stop the attack. And then, it hits him. He's doing it for Arthur. Arthur needs his father, even if he didn't want to admit it. And Merlin didn't want to be responsible for Arthur not having a father. Which he would be, if he stood by and did nothing. He uses the Mage Stone to shoot at Tauren, but he fires it back. He is hit with a startling pain that shoots through his body. It's so intense, that he passes out.
On the Isle of the Blessed, Merlin meets with Nimueh. He's exactly as he remembered. And he hates her for it. How can she still be healthy and alive, when people like Arthur are dying? Dying. Arthur is dying, and she's the only one that can do anything about it. Fate has a twisted sense of humour.
"Do you know what I've come to ask?"
"Yes."
"Will you do it?"
"I do not have the power to mirror life and yet give nothing in return."
"I know that a price will be asked."
"To save a life, there must be a death. The balance of the world must be restored."
"I willingly give my life for Arthur's."
"How brave you are, Merlin. If only it were that simple."
He stands inside Arthur's chambers, and knows he has to say goodbye. And it hurts. Because he doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to leave. Not that Arthur would probably even notice the difference. But he can't allow his mother to die, especially not because of his stupid mistake. He just can't. He has to find another way, strike up another deal with Nimueh. Even if it means he will never return.
"You're a prat. And a royal one."
Arthur laughs then.
"Are you ever going to change Merlin?"
"No, you'd get bored. But promise me this, if you get another servant, don't get a bootlicker."
"If this is you trying to leave your job . . ."
"No. I'm happy to be your servant. Till the day I die."
"Sometimes I think I know you, Merlin. Other times . . ."
"Well I know you. And you're a great warrior. One day, you'll be a great King."
"That's very kind of you."
He knows he has to leave soon, otherwise, he'll start crying. The pain in his chest is so deep, and it stings. He wants nothing more than to break down, and for Arthur to tell him that everything's going to be alright. That they'll sort something out. But part of him knows that's never going to happen. And he can't let Arthur see him like that, he just can't. He can't let him think that anything's wrong. It's just better that way. It's less painful for them both.
"Do you think I sit around doing nothing? I haven't had a chance to sit around and do nothing since the day I arrived in Camelot, I'm too busy running around after Arthur, 'Do this, Merlin!' 'Do that, Merlin!', and when I'm not running around after Arthur, I'm doing chores for you, and when I'm not doing that I'm fulfilling my 'destiny' do you know how many times I've saved Arthur's life? I've lost count. Do I get any thanks? No. I have fought griffins, witches, uh, bandits. I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to hide who I really am because if anyone finds out, Uther will have me executed. Sometimes I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions I don't know which way to turn!"
Merlin lights a torch, and takes a young girl down the tunnels under the castle. She's dressed in a dark, tattered red dress. Her face is dirty, and her hair is tangled. But she's still more beautiful than anyone he's ever seen. They sit down, and he can see that she's shivering. He hands her his jacket, but she doesn't take it. She's afraid. She doesn't trust him. He understands.
"I'm Merlin, by the way."
"Freya."
He uses his magic to reveal a dark, red rose. He hands it to Freya, and a smile spreads across her lips. She's even more beautiful when she smiles. He's never seen it before. He takes the rose in between her fingers, and traces the petals with her fingertips.
"Why are you so good to me?"
"Because I can't help it. I don't know. I like you. With you, I can just be who I am. We don't have to hide anything. We don't have to worry."
Suddenly, they hear people coming. Whether they're coming for Freya or not, it doesn't matter. They run. They find another part of the tunnel where they can hide, and sit there for a while. He lights a candle using his magic, and he sees that Freya is crying.
"They're going to find me. I can't go back to that cage, I can't."
"Shhh, I won't let that happen. I promised you I'd look after you, and I will. Not matter what. You really don't realize how special you are, do you?"
"You're not scared of me?"
"Being different's nothing to be scared of."
Their faces are so close now, that he can feel her breath on his face. He glances at her a few times, before leaning in. He kisses her, and for a moment, they forget about everything else.
Merlin runs back into the tunnels, and honestly, he's relieved to see that she's still there. Every moment spent away from her, he's convinced she'll have been found, or she'll have gotten bored. That's why he was always so eager to get back to her, to assure himself that she was still there, and that she was even real.
"Merlin, you have to be careful."
"I'm fed up with being careful. I am fed up with all of this. So I've decided, we're going to get you out of here, out of Camelot."
"How?"
"I'll get you some clothes, disguise you. What's wrong?"
"It's just, I'm going to miss you."
"No, you won't. Because I'm going to come with you."
The clock chimes inside Camelot, and Freya is corned by knights. Suddenly, she begins to scream, transforming. She transforms into a Bastet, and Arthur and the knights start to fight her. Merlin runs into the square, and provides a distraction for her. He uses his magic to make one of the gargoyles nearby fall. It hits the stone cold floor with a large crash. All the knights turn to look, and this provides time for Freya to get away. She flies off, and escapes. But Arthur has already wounded her.
By the time they reach the lake, she's dying. Arthur wounded her badly, and Merlin had known she wouldn't make it. But he'd tried to convince himself. He'd pretended, to save himself the pain of having to let her go. But he can't pretend anymore. She's dying. He holds her in his arms, and they both begin to cry. He doesn't believe he's ever seen anyone so beautiful, and he can't believe he's losing her so soon.
"There must be something I can do, some way to save you."
"You've already saved me. You made me feel loved."
"I don't want you to go."
"One day, Merlin, I will repay you. I promise."
The birds are chirping, and it's early morning. He sits by Balinor's side, by the fire. He'd been skirting around the subject all afternoon, trying to find out more, but Arthur had kept interrupting their conversations. However, Arthur would probably be gone for another few minutes. This might be his only chance.
"Hunith? She's still alive?"
"Yes. She's my mother."
"Then she married. That's good."
"She never married. I'm your son."
"I don't know what it is to have a son."
"Or I a father."
The camp is attacked, and Merlin's worst nightmare begins. Cenred's men are everywhere, and he tries to help, but is disarmed. Balinor rushes to his aid, but is stabbed in the process. Merlin holds him in his arms. He'd already lost so much in these last few months, he couldn't lose his father too.
"Please, no. Please. I can save you."
"Listen to me. When you face the dragon, remember: be strong. A dragon's heart is on its' right side, not it's left."
"I can't do it alone."
"Listen to me! Oh, my son. I've seen enough in you to know that you will make me proud."
"It is lonely, to be more powerful than any man you know, and have to live like a shadow. To be special, and have to pretend you're a fool."
Merlin and Arthur stand at Uther's bedside. Once again, Merlin has used a spell to conceal himself, turning him back into an old man again, in order to perform magic in front of Arthur. As he mutters different spells and counter-spells, he feels his magic beginning to work. Uther's eyelids flicker open, and he begins to wake up. He smiles over at his son, and for a moment, all is well.
But then, his expressions changes. His brow furrows, and he looks confused. Then his eyes widen, and a gasp escapes his lips. His expression contorts into one of pain and immense suffering. And his breathing begins to fail.
Arthur looks over at Merlin, and begins to panic.
"What's happening?!"
"I don't know . . ."
"Do something!"
Uther goes still, and Merlin is confused. He leans over, and feels for a pulse. There isn't one.
Merlin and Gaius stand in Gaius' chambers, and Merlin is still in shock. The entire castle has already been informed of what happened. But nobody knows what really happened. Not even Merlin himself.
"The spell was working. I'm sure of it. I did everything right. I don't know what happened."
"I think I do," Gaius opens his hand to reveal a small, silver charm. "I found it around Uther's neck. It's been enchanted and such an enchantment would reverse the effects of your healing spell. Uther didn't stand a chance."
"Morgana . . ."
"I believe so."
Morgana douses Merlin with a bucket of cold water and he jolts awake. He twists and turns, realizing there are restraints on his ankles and wrists. They're already digging into his skin painfully. It takes him a moment to take in where he is, and what's happening. As soon as he sees Morgana at his side, he flinches away, glaring.
"Oh, don't be like that. We have a lot of catching up to do. After all, I haven't seen you since you condemned my sister to a slow and painful death, thwarted my plans to take over Camelot and forced me to live in a hovel."
"Couldn't do me a favour, could you? Let Arthur know. He still thinks of me as an underachiever, but I'm quite proud of those accomplishments. I can die happy."
"Oh, you're not going to die. I'm not going to make it that easy."
He hangs from the ceiling like a piece of bloody meat, and watches as Morgana walks over to the fire. There is an odd looking snake with many heads sat by it. Carefully, she cuts off one of its heads, and Merlin squirms, disgusted.
What happened to her? But then, he already knows the answer to that. And it's all his fault.
"The Fomorroh will such the life force out of you. Everything that makes you Merlin will be gone. And in its place there will be just one thought. One thought that will grow until it's consumed you completely. One thought that will be your life's work. You will not be able to rest until it's done. And that one thought is simple. You must kill Arthur Pendragon."
The Fomorroh burrows into his neck, and he writhes in pain. It squirms under his skin, and he is over taken by the fire that he feels, as if he's being burned alive. The pain is so intense that he passes out.
"There are times when I feel the weight of my destiny . . . crushing me."
They sit by the fire, discussing what to do. Should they let Mordred die? Or should they allow magic back in to Camelot? Merlin can't understand why Arthur's coming to him of all people, but he still appreciates it. Arthur was treating him as an equal, as a friend. But now he had to let him down.
If magic was allowed into Camelot, then Mordred may eventually use it to kill Arthur. And Merlin couldn't allow himself to take that chance.
Even if it meant Mordred himself had to die.
"Perhaps my father was wrong. Perhaps . . . the old ways aren't as evil as we thought. So what should we do? Accept magic, or let Mordred die?"
Merlin bites his lip. He knows he can't answer that question, but Arthur's not letting it go. He's staring at him so intently, and it's taking all his courage not to cry right now. This is what he's wanted, for so long. This is what was destined, for Arthur to bring magic back to Camelot.
But he can't allow it to happen if it means Arthur has to die.
"There can be no place for magic in Camelot."
Merlin stands, watching, as Arthur and Gwen stand in the lake. He speaks the spell, and watches as light explodes in the water. It encases Gwen, as she stands with her back to them.
As the light disappears, Merlin finds himself praying that it worked. Gwen turns to them all, and smiles, reaching a hand out to Arthur. She hugs him tightly, and Merlin grins, thankful that, for now, everyone could be happy.
Lying down on his bed, Merlin closes his eyes, preparing for the first night of proper sleep he's gotten in a while. Just as he does so however, there is an odd sound coming from under his bed. He shoots up, looking around the room.
Before he even has time to register what's going on, there's a large, slimy object on his face. It covers his eyes and nose, making it impossible for him to see or breathe. He struggles against the creature, before managing to tear it from his face.
A few minutes later, he lies on his bed once more, and reaches out his hand. He whispers the spell to summon the drink by his bedside.
But nothing happens.
He tries again, this time saying the spell a little louder.
It doesn't move.
He tries one last time.
Nothing happens.
His magic is gone.
Of all the things that had happened in the last few days, this would be the most painful. This was what he'd been dreading ever since he'd lost his magic. He'd known it was coming, but nothing could have prepared him for the stabbing pain in his chest that he now feels.
"I just wanted to make sure you had all you needed for your journey to Camlann. For the days ahead."
"Thank you . . . Merlin. What do you mean my journey?"
This is the moment. All he has to do was say it . . . it wouldn't be that bad. He just has to say it, and deal with whatever happens after that . . .
"I'm afraid I won't be coming with you, not this time. I'm sorry. I have an urgent errand to run for Gaius. Vital supplies that I can't obtain here."
"Vital supplies?"
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
"No, no, it's . . . fine. It's fine I understand."
Nothing could have prepared him for this. The look on Arthur's face, it's worse than he'd imagined. He'd thought he'd be angry. Angry, he could've handled. Arthur had been angry at him countless times before. But Merlin had never seen him look before the way he did now.
He's disappointed.
"Arthur -"
"You know, Merlin. All those jokes about you being a coward . . . I never really meant any of them. I always thought you were the bravest man I ever met."
Merlin feels his breathing speed up, and his eyes begin to fill with unshed tears. He can sense what is coming, and he knows it will be the final blow that will finish him.
"I guess I was wrong."
Merlin stands by his father's side, looking out at the light. He'd done what he had set out to do. He had regained his magic. But he'd done more than that. He'd regained his faith. His faith in himself. And his father had helped him discover that. He would be eternally grateful.
"Goodbye, Father."
"There are no goodbyes, son. For I, will always be. As you will always be."
Merlin nods, a smile forming on his lips. His father smiles back, and Merlin steels himself. As he walks back through the cave, and into the bright, blinding light, he realizes he is ready.
Arthur reeled back, gasping for breath, and Merlin did the same. He didn't quite realize how intense an experience that would be, and he felt quite sick. His head was spinning, his pulse racing, but his eyelids felt heavy. He could see that Arthur was experiencing the same feeling, which would probably have an even worse effect on him, with the pain from his wound. He looked even worse than he had ten minutes ago, and Merlin shook himself, leaning Arthur back against the tree.
"Lean back, lean back . . ." he said, placing his hand on Arthur's shoulder. He made sure that his friend was comfortable, looking into his eyes. His pupils didn't seem to be dilated or anything, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal. But he looked as though he were in pain. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes were beginning to fill with tears. "Arthur?"
The King said nothing, and his mouth fell open in shock. He continued to look at Merlin, but he neither moved, nor showed any sign of what was wrong with him. Merlin began to worry. He looked all about them for anything that might be wrong. Bandits, robbers, Morgana . . . but there was nobody and nothing there. He held his hand to Arthur's head, but his temperature was the same as it had been last time.
"Arthur? Arthur, what is it?" Merlin asked again, placing both of his hands on Arthur's shoulders. He shook him slightly, and it seemed as though the blonde somewhat came to his senses again. "What's wrong? Is it your wound? Are you hurt?"
"No, no . . . I'm . . . I'm fine," Arthur reassured him, sitting up against the tree trunk. He gave a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Merlin gave him a long, searching look. He looked haunted, and there were still hints of tears in his eyes. Merlin didn't understand.
"Then what's wrong?" he asked one more time, more insistent now. Arthur tried to wave it off, but now Merlin was getting even more worried. "Arthur, tell me. Please. Please, just . . . tell me what's wrong, Arthur."
"Everything you did . . . everything you went through . . . I never even realized . . ." Arthur replied, beginning to look a little dazed again. Merlin stared at him in disbelief. That's what was wrong with him? He was lost for words. For once in his life, Merlin literally had no idea what to say. "Merlin, why did you never tell me? It must have been unbearable. Having to keep so much of your life a secret, from me . . . from all of us. You lost your father . . . because of me."
"No, Arthur . . . no." Merlin interrupted him, forcing his friend to look at him. "You can't blame yourself for what happened to my father. He was killed in an ambush, you couldn't help that. He died trying to protect me, it was nothing to do with you. And I didn't tell you because, well . . . you didn't need to know."
"But all those things you did . . . for me . . . you never once sought any credit. You saved lives, lots of them. You saved my life more times than I can count. And yet you never told anyone. I treated you . . . terribly. You made me think you were a fool, and I treated you as such. I treated you as though you were worthless. But all this time, no one was more deserving of my respect."
"I did what anyone else would've done," Merlin said dismissively, looking down at the floor. He wasn't sure he was completely comfortable with Arthur knowing everything that he knew now. He hadn't meant to show him that much. But his magic had just sort of . . . taken control. It was too late now anyway, Arthur knew everything.
"No Merlin, you didn't." Arthur replied, and Merlin's head shot up. "Nobody else would've dared do any of that. Using magic in Camelot is forbidden, and yet you used it anyway. You stood up for what was right, and used your magic for good. You proved me wrong. You're not worthless, or a fool, or a coward, or any of those things that I've called you in the past. You're a hero."
Merlin could feel tears forming in his eyes again, and he had to look away. He didn't want to cry in front of Arthur, though it seemed that's all he was doing these days.
"I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm so, incredibly sorry. All this time, you've been so alone. You've had so much to deal with, so many things piling up on top of you . . . I'm simply amazed that you carried on. The strength that you've shown . . . it's the kind of strength that I'd expect from a knight. That kind of strength is the strength of a hero, maybe . . . maybe even a King. There's nothing I can ever say, to make any of this up to you Merlin, and now I don't think will ever have the chance. But one thing's for sure. You may be the greatest friend I've ever had."
Leaving the dead Morgana behind him, Merlin lifted Arthur up, placing an arm around his waist. He helped him walk, as they made their way through the bushes, and over a small hill. Arthur was dragging his feet now, and Merlin could tell that he wasn't going to last much longer. He could feel him fading, and he was scared that they weren't going to make it. He led them over the hill, where they could see the boat that they would take.
When they reached the other side of the bushes, and they were on flat ground again, Merlin felt a warm sense of relief rush over him. They'd made it. They were going to be alright. They'd get there, Arthur would be healed, and they could return to Camelot. Arthur would reunite the lands of Albion, and restore magic to Camelot. His destiny would be fulfilled, and he would no longer have to worry.
His relief vanished in a matter of seconds.
Arthur gave a slight twitch, and Merlin held him tighter, trying to get him towards the boat. But then, Arthur's body stiffened. All of his muscles tensed up, and it was impossible to move him. Merlin tried to drag him to the boat, or carry him, but it was no good. He was too heavy, and Merlin wasn't strong enough. Then, Arthur went limp, and fell to the ground, taking Merlin with him.
The weight of Arthur was crushing him, but now wasn't really the time to be complaining. They had to get to the boat. Once they got to the boat, they'd be fine. They just needed to walk that little bit further . . . Merlin struggled under Arthur's weight, trying to pull him up again, but Arthur shook his head. It was time for Merlin to stop fooling himself, and accept what they already both knew. It was no use. They were going nowhere.
"Just . . . can you just hold me?" Arthur asked, his voice breaking on the last few words. There were tears in his eyes again, and Merlin couldn't believe it. This was it, this was the end. After everything they'd been through, all his efforts to keep Arthur alive . . . it was all for nothing. Magic would never be restored to Camelot. Albion would never be reunited.
Then, he felt ashamed of himself; he was worrying about all that at a time like this. His best friend, the most important person in his life . . . was dying right before his eyes. He shouldn't even be thinking about Albion right now, and his destiny. What mattered was Arthur. He turned his attention back to Arthur, and swallowed, tears coming to his eyes as well. He nodded slowly, and turned, so Arthur's head was almost in his lap instead. He placed a hand on his neck, and the other on his chest.
"Will you . . . will you stay with me? . . . . Please?" Arthur pleaded, and Merlin was lost for words once more. Arthur had never, ever pleaded with Merlin before. Ever. Not once. He'd never so much as uttered the words 'please' or 'thank you'. It just wasn't something he did. And yet, here he was, pleading for Merlin to stay with him. After all those times he'd been told to get out, to leave him alone. He was asking him to stay. He wanted to spend his final moments with Merlin. And it broke his heart.
"Till the end," Merlin replied, and Arthur gripped the wrist of the hand that Merlin had on his chest. His grip was tight, and Merlin could tell he was trying to remind himself that he was still here. Maybe that they were both still here. It was clear he was slipping away already, and maybe he just wanted to remind himself to hold on.
" . . . I wish I could've been more like you, Merlin." Arthur whispered, and Merlin laughed, though there was no life in it. Arthur gave a small chuckle himself, shaking his head. "No, I mean it. If I'd been even half the man that you were . . . You were so brave, all the time. The bravest man I'd ever known, truly. I was always so afraid, of everything. But you never were. You'd run into a fight, without a second thought, if it meant you could protect me. I wish I could've done the same for you."
"Arthur, don't be -" Merlin began, but Arthur cut him off. If these were to be his final moments, then he needed to say this now.
"I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm sorry that I wasn't enough for you. I'm sorry that I couldn't be the friend that you deserved," he continued, and tears were now streaming down Merlin's face. He made no attempt to stop them. "I'm sorry that . . . that I couldn't see how amazing you were, and that I never fully appreciated you. I'm sorry that I never listened to you, even when I knew you were right . . . which was always. God, Merlin . . . I'm sorry for everything."
"You don't need to be sorry, Arthur. I wouldn't change any of it for the world." Merlin replied, grinning. But the grin wasn't quite the same as his usual, charming smirk. This one was full of sadness, as he tried to control the sobs that were trying to break free.
"I . . . I want to say something to . . ." Arthur whispered, placing his hand on the back of Merlin's neck. and Merlin could tell he was hanging on by a thread. The grip on his wrist was loosening, and the hand on his neck wasn't holding on any tighter. It was taking all his strength to stay alive. And he was doing it for Merlin. "I . . . I've never said this to you before, but . . . I . . . God, this is hard . . . Merlin, I -"
"Arthur, it's alright. You don't have to say anything," Merlin interrupted, shaking his head. He didn't want Arthur to waste his last few breaths. He wanted to keep him alive for as long as possible. Even though, in the end, it would only make it worse.
"Yes, I do . . . at least, I have to say this . . . I can't . . . you have to know . . ." Arthur insisted, and Merlin could tell it was now becoming hard for him to get the words out. "I . . . I've never known anyone like you Merlin. You're . . . you're special. I don't want you to ever forget that . . . ever. You . . . you changed me. When we first met . . . I was so selfish, and cold. You . . . you saw through that. You were my friend, and you trusted me. You made me . . . a better person. And . . . thank you."
That was when Merlin lost control. He could no longer hold back the sobs that were building up, and his tears were coming faster than ever. His whole body wracked and convulsed with sobs, and he didn't think he'd ever hurt this much. It felt like he was being stabbed in the chest, over, and over, and over. This was Morgana's revenge. Her final act of evil against him.
"I - I don't want you to go." Merlin whispered, leaning his forehead against Arthur's. He closed his eyes, and Arthur did the same. This was a moment between them, and no one else. And Arthur was glad. There was no one else he would've wanted by his side right now. "Please, please don't leave. Arthur, I can't . . . I can't do this without you, I - I'm not strong enough . . ."
"Yes . . . you are. You can do this, Merlin . . ." Arthur replied, a look of steely determination taking over. He tightened his grip on Merlin's wrist again, trying to reassure him. Watching Merlin break down right in front of him . . . made him come so close to breaking himself. And he didn't want Merlin to see that. It would only make things worse.
"I can't, Arthur . . . I can't . . ." he shook his head, his tears falling down onto Arthur's face. He lifted his head again, still looking down at Arthur. He wanted to memorize everything about him. His eyes, his hair, his voice . . . in a few minutes time, he'd never hear that voice again. And that hit him like a ton of bricks. "Oh God . . . I . . . Arthur . . ."
"Merlin, I need you to listen to me . . ." Arthur said, removing his hand from Merlin's neck. He placed it on his chest, and gave him a stern look. He could feel Merlin's heart beating rapidly beneath his shirt. "You'll be alright. You're strong. You'll . . . you'll go back to Camelot, and . . . you'll look after them all . . . just as you always have. You'll do what you've always done, and . . . you'll be happy. Just . . . promise me something?"
"Anything,"
"Don't forget about me," Arthur whispered, and his voice broke again. Tears were now in his eyes as well, and he was slowly breaking. Merlin could've laughed at that. The idea of him ever forgetting about Arthur . . . it was ridiculous. Arthur was what made him whole, the thing that completed him. Kilgharrah had been telling him that for years. He could never forget about Arthur, even if he tried.
"Never."
"There's one . . . last thing . . . I . . . I've never said this to you before, but . . . I think I've always known . . . Merlin, I . . . I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to listen, because I'm only going to say this once . . ." Arthur said, and Merlin nodded. Arthur reached up, trying the tears from Merlin's eyes. He hated it when Merlin cried. It seemed . . . wrong somehow. Merlin tried to memorize the feeling of Arthur's hand on his cheek. "Merlin, I . . . I think I . . . I love you."
"W-What?" Merlin stuttered. Had he really just said . . . no, he couldn't have. He must have imagined it. After all, he hadn't slept for days. His brain was just making things up, to make himself feel better. That had to be it. It had to be. There was no way . . . but as Merlin looked at Arthur, he saw it. He saw the look in his eyes, and the feeling behind it. And he saw that it was genuine.
He could've almost laughed in disbelief. Arthur had loved Gwen for years. He was married to her! And yet . . . here he was, saying that he loved Merlin! The idea would almost be laughable . . . if Merlin didn't know in his heart that he felt the same way. But the idea was preposterous. Things like this . . . they never happened to people like him. People like Arthur . . . they never chose people like Merlin. It just didn't happen. It was just the way that things worked.
"I told you . . . I was only going to say it once," Arthur grinned, and then he went still.
Merlin was right, things like that didn't happen to people like him. However, things like this did.
He looked down at Arthur's already cold, lifeless form, and began to weep. He'd thought he'd run out of tears by now, but it turned out he was wrong. He had more than enough left. More than enough for this. Somehow, everything that Arthur had just said . . . made it so much worse. Knowing that Arthur had loved him, and that he'd loved him to . . . it was heart-breaking. Because they were too late. They'd been too foolish, and too blind to see it before. And now it was too late.
Arthur was dead.
His tears fell onto Arthur's face, but he didn't care. He traced the perfect features of Arthur's face with his hand. His abstract, sharp cheekbones. His flawless, tanned skin. His long, thin lips. He was fading now, his features beginning to change. His lips were turning blue, and his tanned skin was growing cold and icy. His eyes were already closed, and it saddened Merlin to see his friend looking so . . . hollow, so . . . empty.
He wasn't Arthur anymore.
As he cried over the fallen King, it seemed as though the Heavens opened. The sky turned a dark, stormy grey, and the sound of thunder could be heard in the distance. But Merlin couldn't hear the thunder. His ears were ringing, and the sound of Arthur's voice echoing in his mind. He pressed his forehead to Arthur's once more, as it began to rain. The raindrops mixed in with his tears.
In seconds, Merlin was soaked to the skin. His hair was clinging to his forehead, and his thin, cotton clothes were freezing. He began to shiver, but not because of the rain. He couldn't feel the rain, at all. He couldn't feel the cold taking over his body. He couldn't feel the wind against his face. He couldn't feel anything. All he felt . . . was emptiness.
Kilgharrah had been right, Arthur truly had been that which made him whole. Arthur was what completely him, was what made him Merlin. And he now felt as though a piece of him was missing. It almost made him wonder, what had he been before? Before Arthur, who had he been? He had the rest of his lifetime to figure that out. To find that person again. But without Arthur . . . who was he? He was nothing. Without Arthur, he was nothing.
But Arthur would be back. He would. He had to come back. Otherwise, what was the point of it all? All his hard work, would've been for nothing. And that just didn't seem fair. The prophecy said that Arthur would return to reunite the lands of Albion, and restore magic to Camelot. Only now, did Merlin understand what it meant, and what he had to do.
One day, probably many years from now, Arthur would return. He would rise again, and he would do all of the great things that he was destined to do. And Merlin would be waiting, for as long as it took. He would take his place by Arthur's side, the place he belonged. They would fulfil the prophecy, and Merlin would get to tell him all of the things he should have said to him before. Every day until then, would just be another day closer to seeing him again.
So as the rain poured around them, Merlin did the thing he'd so been longing to do for years. He brought their faces closer, and pressed his lips against Arthur's. His lips were cold, but it was a goodbye kiss. It was also an apology. For all the things that he hadn't said. For not replying when Arthur told him he loved him. For not saying how much Arthur meant to him too, or thanking him for everything he did. Though Merlin had a feeling that he already knew all of that already.
He kept his face close to Arthur's, as he leaned in, whispering. He hoped that, wherever he was now . . . Arthur was listening.
"I love you too. I'm sorry that I didn't get to tell you, but don't worry. One day, I will see you again."
THE END