I love you. I need you. I can't live without you. You have to come back. Please, you have to come back to me.

Merlin opens his mouth, but the words stick in his throat, choking him. Arthur's blue eyes seem to grow until they fill his entire vision, his entire universe.

"Be careful with that armour," Merlin says lightly, slapping Arthur on the shoulder. "I've put a lot of effort into keeping it in one piece, you know."

"Well, I wouldn't want all your hard work to go to waste," Arthur says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He claps Merlin on the back and turns to go down the stairs. Merlin stares after him, the words desperately fighting to get out of his mouth. Please don't die. Don't sacrifice yourself for anyone else. They need you too much. I need you too much.

But as always, Merlin's throat closes and he can do nothing but follow Arthur, to the ends of the earth if need be, to protect him.

They win that battle, and the next. Arthur is a stupid hero, as usual, nearly getting himself killed. One night, he is recovering from a wound in his leg. He is lying in Gaius' chambers with a fever. Merlin knows he'll be ok – the wound isn't that serious, and the fever will break soon enough – but he stays by Arthur's side all night, holding his hand.

Please be ok. Don't take a turn for the worse. Don't let there be some hidden magical component to the wound… please wake up, stop moaning, it hurts me to see you in pain, it hurts too much…

When Arthur finally opens his eyes, the words are ready to come spilling out of Merlin's mouth, but instead he jokes lightly with Arthur, with the words that always come so easily when the ones that really matter won't.

In the years since Uther has died and Arthur become king, Merlin has stood by him, protecting and supporting him, never wavering in his loyalty. He sees Arthur joke with his knights, be all chivalrous to every woman in Camelot, and he sees the affection and kindness in Arthur's eyes in those rare moments when they are alone and the barriers are down between them.

And yet Merlin's insides are eating themselves because somehow, he can't say the words that matter. I haver magic, I love you, I use it for you, only for you.

Merlin protects Arthur through all of it, knowing that Arthur needs his steadfast friend if he is to be the king he was meant to be. But finally, there comes something that Merlin cannot protect him against.

"I don't understand," Merlin says dumbly.

Gaius looks at him with concern and sadness that Merlin can't stand. He turns his back so that he doesn't have to see it.

Gaius speaks softly, like he would to a wounded animal that may bolt at any second. "I don't know what kind of magical trap Arthur fell into, Merlin. I have tried everything I know, but I can't wake him. His fever is getting worse and he is getting weaker. There's nothing more I can do. He has days, a week at most."

"No," Merlin says, as though denying it can stop it from being true. "Stop it. Stop it! You're the physician, you're supposed to heal him. You have to heal him, Gaius!"

He turns only to see Gaius' sad eyes, filled with pity.

"Stop looking at me like that!" Merlin roars. "Fix him, you have to fix him!" His arm crashes into one of Gaius' work tables, pushing everything to the floor with a crash. "You have to do something!" Merlin yells, upending the table, his magic reducing it to splinters. Bottles explode and books jump from their shelves as Merlin's magic gets more and more out of control. Merlin throws another table at the wall, watching it shatter.

"You have to do something!"

"Merlin, I'm so sorry."

Just like that, all the fight goes out of Merlin. He falls to his knees beside the bed Arthur has been laid in.

You can't leave me. I can't save you. I would do anything for you. Please, please, don't go.

"No," he says again, shaking his head. Gaius lays a hand gently on Merlin's shoulder before quietly leaving the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Merlin to his grief.

Merlin clutches at Arthur's hand. He can't let him go. He can't. His mind spins, trying to find some solution. There has to be something…

Morgana. She's a high priestess. She could help him, like Nimeuh once did. But why would she help him?

She wants me dead, no doubt about that, Merlin thinks to himself. She also wants Arthur dead, though. If there's any way he could persuade her to help him… she loved Arthur, once. Merlin knows there is still some good in her. If there is any way…

If she refuses to help him, he could always use magic to force her. He cringes at the thought of what he may have to do to her to get her to help him. He's never been able to stomach torture… but he would do anything for Arthur.

He dries his eyes and gets up, filled with an odd calm. He knows what to do. There will be no goodbyes, no giving anyone the opportunity to try to stop him. He glances at Arthur. Arthur deserves to know everything, everything that Merlin will now never have the opportunity to tell him.

Slowly, he reaches for a piece of paper and starts writing.

All the words I can never say

Dear Arthur…

Merlin wipes his eyes on his sleeve when he is finished. When Arthur wakes, he will be dead. A letter is the best he can give his friend, his king, his love. Merlin wipes the sweat from Arthur's brow, feasting his eyes one last time on the man who changed his life, who made it worth living.

"I love you," he whispers. He lightly presses his lips to Arthur's, closing his eyes, wishing he could stay in this moment forever, wishing more than anything that he'd had the courage to say those three little words to Arthur when he was awake, wishing they had shared just one kiss together before it came to this.

Then he tears himself away, afraid that if he doesn't leave now, he never will.

xxx

Merlin rides hard, barely stopping to rest. He knows where Morgana was last rumoured to be. That's all that matters. Get to Morgana. Save Arthur. Everything will be ok, then. Even if he isn't alive to see it, everything will be ok.

As Merlin rides, his sleep-deprived mind conjures up Arthur's voice, following him, calling him, begging him to stop, to come back. Merlin smiles with both joy and pain on hearing Arthur's voice again. A mixed blessing, the last thing his mind can offer him before he dies: a lie.

It's been two days. Merlin knows that he will reach Morgana tomorrow. He needs to be well-rested for that; whatever powers he will need to save Arthur, he will have to make sure he has them. He reluctantly takes out his bedroll and lies down.

He wakes near dawn after a few hours' fitful sleep and starts saddling the horses. It'll take about half a day more of hard riding to get to Morgana.

Phantom Arthur's voice gets louder and louder, and Merlin closes his eyes, smiling vaguely. "I love you," he says. "I will save you." He puts his foot into the stirrup.

"Merlin, stop!"

Merlin ignores his delusion. Of course Arthur would want to stop him. The stupid prat.

He can't ignore the very solid body crashing into him.

Merlin's breath is knocked out of him and he finds himself on his back on the ground, staring up into a pair of blue eyes he had thought he would never see again.

His brain barely has time to process the shock, he barely has time to stammer "Arthur?" before Arthur's lips are crashing into his.

Merlin gasps as his mouth opens automatically, and then surely he has already reached Morgana, surely she has already killed him and he is in some wonderful afterlife, because Arthur's arms are around him and they are so close they are breathing each other's breath and Merlin feels truly complete for perhaps the first time in his life.

"Is this a dream?" he breathes, breaking away so that his hands can cup Arthur's face, so perfect, like the face of an angel.

Breathing hard, Arthur rests his forehead against Merlin's. "No, you idiot," he says.

"Then I am dead. It was worth it. But why are you here? You can't be dead, you're alive, that's the whole point."

Arthur's brow bunches up in concern. "Did you hit your head on something?"

Merlin sighs as his hands roam over Arthur's shoulders, and he decides it doesn't matter. So the afterlife is rewarding his sacrifice with a delusion of Arthur. Fine by him. He'll take it.

"Look after Gaius," he breathes, his lips brushing against Arthur's cheek. "The other you, I mean, the alive one. Make sure he takes care of Gaius. He'll be devastated. I don't know if he'll ever forgive me."

Arthur sits up and Merlin reaches for him, but now this is surely Merlin's version of hell, because Arthur isn't touching him anymore, he's standing up…

Arthur grabs Merlin roughly by the shoulders, pulling him to his feet, and shakes him roughly.

"What is wrong with you? Stop acting like you think you're dead!"

Merlin blinks slowly. "But I am dead," he says, confused. "Or did you want to pretend? I'm so tired of pretending, Arthur, I don't want to do it anymore…"

Arthur steers him to a fallen down tree and sits him down, feeling his forehead as though checking for a fever. Do you get fevers in the afterlife? Merlin wonders.

"Merlin, I don't know what's wrong with you, but you're alive, we both are. I woke up in Gaius' chambers and found your letter…" Arthur's voice breaks as he pulls up a folded piece of paper, handling it as though it is the most delicate treasure that could shatter at any second.

"I never – I thought you didn't feel… I thought you only viewed me as a friend. If I had known… you should have – Merlin, I –" Tears drip down Arthur's face and his gaze pierces Merlin's, capturing his eyes, not allowing him to look away. "How could you even think of doing it?" Arthur whispers. "You would leave me all alone? How am I supposed to live or breathe without you?"

Merlin opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He's never been so confused in his life.

Arthur takes a deep breath, composing himself. "When I woke up, after nearly having a heart attack, Gaius worked out what was wrong with me. It was a spell, dark magic, meant to kill me and leave Camelot open to my enemies. It was too powerful to be defeated by anything Gaius could do. Only the purest, strongest love could ever hope to lift it from my body."

He stares at Merlin, willing him to understand. Arthur holds up the letter. "You saved me, Merlin. Not your magic, but your love for me. It was stronger than the dark magic. And my love for you, the need to save you… I finally broke through the spell."

Merlin opens his mouth to say something, to ask a question, or to make a joke, or something, something has to be said.

And then all the walls break down and Merlin is crying and hugging Arthur, kissing him and whispering, murmuring all the words he could never say. "I love you. I need you. You have to stay with me. Don't ever leave me again, Arthur."

And Arthur is whispering back, and the pain in his voice makes Merlin think that maybe he isn't the only one who has had words stuck in his throat for years, burning up his insides.

"I love you, I love you," Arthur repeats over and over again, kissing his way down Merlin's neck. "Don't ever try to die for me again, Merlin, don't, I need you too much…"

Merlin is clinging to Arthur's broad shoulders, adrift in a sea of emotion and Arthur is the only rock, the only thing holding him steady. Arthur's hands are fast and urgent on him, and Merlin can tell that right now Arthur needs him as desperately as Merlin needs Arthur. He tears at Arthur's shirt, not caring as it rips, desperate to feel warm, living skin and muscle. He attacks Arthur's mouth, their tongues clashing, clinging to each other, so close but not close enough, like they are merging into one person.

Arthur presses the length of his body along Merlin's and Merlin groans, bucking up, his cock already straining against his breeches. He has imagined this so many times. He'd always imagined Arthur teasing him, torturing him with gentle licks and too-light touches, but Arthur is as desperate as he is.

They tear at each other's clothes, rolling over and getting covered in leaves, but neither of them cares. Merlin's hands reach down to circle Arthur's cock and Arthur gives a strangled yell, pressing into Merlin's grip. Merlin's hands move up and down, and now Arthur is making noises, beautiful noises and Merlin thinks me might come just from listening to them.

Merlin flicks his hand and his eyes glow gold for a second, then a small bottle of oil appears in his hand. "Please," Merlin pants, handing the bottle to Arthur. Arthur's pupils are blown wide as he coats his fingers in oil, circling Merlin's hole as Merlin shudders, pressing himself down.

Arthur slips one finger inside and then another. "Arthur!" Merlin grinds himself down, desperate to feel more of Arthur in him. Arthur curls his fingers just the right way and Merlin sees stars, doing all he can to hold back, but he can't hold on much longer.

"Now, Arthur," he groans. Arthur hesitates for a moment – he would have liked to spend more time preparing Merlin, but his cock is throbbing so badly he thinks it may explode at any moment. As he slowly presses into Merlin, Merlin whines and presses back, begging for more. Arthur knows he should go slowly, but Merlin is rocking his bottom and all Arthur can think about is the tightness and the heat and Merlin.

Merlin is on his knees with Arthur behind him and Arthur grabs him, pulling Merlin firmly onto his cock, impaling him. Arthur starts moving and Merlin is moving with him, his movements becoming ever more desperate.

"Arthur, harder, please, harder, faster…" He is almost incoherent, but it doesn't matter, because Arthur doesn't even think he's in control of his body anymore as he thrusts harder into Merlin, hitting his pleasure spot every time, closing his eyes as he tries for control when he hears Merlin shouting his name, begging him for more, harder, faster.

Arthur's hands find Merlin's cock, hard and weeping. He tugs at it, his rhythm erratic and off but so perfect. Merlin yells louder than he ever has before as he comes, black spots dancing before his eyes as the pleasure takes over. His body collapses and he would have fallen to the ground if it weren't for Arthur holding him up, and then Arthur is coming too, spurred by Merlin's arse clenching around him.

"Gods – Merlin!" He thrusts himself deep into Merlin as his orgasm overwhelms him and he is inundated by more pleasure than he knew existed in the world. He yells with the power of it, his whole body shaking, before finally collapsing heavily on top of Merlin.

It is a long time before either of them has the strength to move – they're not sure if they may have passed out for a bit, or slept, or whatever, but it doesn't matter. When Arthur finally pulls out, Merlin whimpers slightly, but just turns and wraps his arms around Arthur.

"Let's stay here for a bit longer," he murmurs.

They are sticky and dirty, covered with sand and leaves, naked in the middle of the forest, exhausted and sweaty… but the moment is perfect. Merlin opens his mouth and waits for the burning, choking feeling he is so used to. But instead, the words slip from his mouth as smoothly and easily as water flowing down a creek.

"I love you."

"Love you more," Arthur murmurs dazedly.

"Not a chance," Merlin laughs, and Arthur laughs with him, laughing for no other reason than sheer joy. Soon, they will have to return to Camelot, where there will be people relying on them, people conspiring against them, disasters, wars, struggle… but Merlin knows that they can deal with all of that, because they finally have each other, in the way they were always supposed to.

No matter what happens, no matter what challenges will face them, Merlin knows one thing: never again will he be choked by words that he can't say. "I love you," he murmurs again, just to prove it to himself. "I love you, and you'll be the best king Albion ever had, but you'll also always be mine."

"Sounds good," Arthur breathes, his nose just brushing against Merlin's. As they fall asleep, Arthur's hand loosens on the letter Merlin left him. The heading stands out in a shaft of sunlight. All the words I can never say. Then a gust of wind catches the letter and it flutters away, and it doesn't matter, because there is nothing left unsaid between them, and there never will be.

The End