Thank you Bailieboro for the beta!
For word-stringer. Slash or not is up to you.
Arthur POV
You don't want to do this. No. It's killing you, to simply thinking about it. You feel as if your heart is collapsing within itself with the thought. Something like this will slowly, painfully rot your core from the inside out.
It already has, and the deed hasn't even been done. You can already feel your core becoming encased in a thick sheet of ice.
You will be a dead man after you do this. You know you will be. A walking corpse. A soulless being with no real life within itself.
And if your spirit does manage to survive this, somehow, some fucking how, it will never be the same.
You will never be the same. Your home, your life will never be the same. It will no longer hold the same cheerful, wonderful, comforting air. It will no longer serve as a place of stability and peace.
Your mind will never rest, after you do this.
It will all die along with your soul.
But you have to do this! You must!
Your hand itches to grasp the sword, fingers barely curling around the hilt. Mustn't you?
Mustn't you?
Yes! You take a deep breath, sound in your reasoning.
You have to do this!
It doesn't matter how much it pains you. You must swallow it all down, the pain, the torment which this action will bring upon your being. You must push it down into the darkest depths, lest it hinders your actions.
Lest your heart gets in the way of doing what is right. What needs to be done!
How much it will kill you...kill him...
Arthur, why did we stop?
Nothing matters but the truth. The good! The right!
Your opinion does not matter.
No.
Your opinion is usually what gets in the way in these situations, blinding your sense of reason, of logic. Your heart is what always stood in between what is right and evil, blocking the view of truth, casting everything in a hazy shadow.
Your heart cannot be trusted, anymore.
You are not content with your decision...but you will never be, not for this...
Your sense of reason has been dulled. Buried. That is what the law is for; to do what is right when you feel that it is so wrong.
Merlin, come here a minute.
Oh, so very, terribly, terrifyingly wrong.
You have been blinded in the past by your family and your heart. You did not notice how Morgana had lost all decency within her eyes, you did not want to...
You refused to look.
But she tries to kill you. It tried to kill you.
Magic.
It tries to kill you, it tries to kill your father, Camelot.
Arthur, what is it?
You have to do this. –You look at his face, you at least owe him that much.
You do not want to do this, your organs threatening to rise up within your throat at the very thought. Muscles tightening. You cannot breath...you cannot remember how!
Your fingers curl around the hilt of the sword, brandishing the blade. His eyes look upon you with confusion, before going wide with realization.
But you must...
YOU MUST!
Arthur, w-what are you doing?
The disease, the plague which is magic is spreading.
Merlin, I'm sorry.
You cannot pretend that you did not see it this time, the trick of light in his eyes.
You can no longer afford to.
You must stop it, any way you can. You cannot allow it to spread. The madness is too contagious. Too powerful. You must cut it down before it grows.
He takes a step back, hands over his face in a protective gesture.
You do not want to do this...
Your hands are shaking as you hold the blade in the air. It has never been so hard to kill a man before.
You have never wanted to do this but you cannot allow it to continue. You cannot trust anyone, anymore.
Especially those...those like him.
I am so sorry, Merlin!
And then, the blade comes down.
A scream, did you hear a scream?
Finally, the deed was done, and your friend's life blood paints the forest floor.
And you...
Oh gods...!
Forgive me, Merlin!
You feel as if your soul is gone forever.