Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Merlin.
Merlin was never meant to die.
It was never even considered. Merlin was always, well, there. That was one thing Arthur could always count on. But now Merlin was gone.
His funny, clumsy, idiot of a best friend would no longer be there to cheer him up or advise him on both court and personal affairs. Now he was alone. Fine, that wasn't true, he had Gwen but the pit in his stomach suggested otherwise.
Merlin. Merlin who had been the first to insult him and ironically become his first true friend.
Merlin who had been the bumbling servant who couldn't do anything right but saved his life time after time. Merlin who accompanied him loyally on any quest even if it was not in his duty to come.
Merlin who would scare the animals away on a hunt but always seemed to avoid Arthur's anger. Merlin who Arthur would defend countless times to find out later that Merlin had saved Arthur's own hide triple that number, not including the times Merlin had saved Uther, Gaius, Gwen, and the citizens of Camelot's lives.
Merlin with his red or blue neckerchief and brown jacket. Merlin who had become Arthur's best friend.
Merlin who had revealed his magic to Arthur and helped him understand that magic was like a weapon: it depended on the person wielding it if it was used for good or evil.
Merlin who was the only one successful in bringing Arthur out of his catatonic state when his father had died. Merlin who had become his Court Warlock, the King's Advisor, and his most trusted ally.
Merlin who had helped him unite Albion, kingdom by kingdom. Merlin who had helped restore magic's name as good.
Merlin who had become his brother. And now his brother was dead. His eyes would never glow gold again.