Merlin stared in shock at the lifeless figure of the king, lying utterly still in bed.
Just a moment ago, he had felt nothing but pride and hope as his heeling spell did its job. Maybe Arthur would finally realize that not all sorcerers were bad. And maybe, just maybe, Merlin could finally feel safe enough to reveal his true self and set in motion his shared destiny with Arthur.
But these glorious visions vanished as soon as they came when Uther's heart suddenly stopped beating, without warning, leaving no possibility for Merlin to save the now former king. How could everything have gone so wrong in just a few heartbeats?
Shock was rapidly replaced by fear and then black, harsh despair. Arthur would never again be able to trust a sorcerer during his lifetime, not after seeing one murder his father. Murderer, that was what he was. Murderer of his best friend's father. The wave of self-hatred that followed left him staggering and suddenly, he was aware again of his surroundings, of the king's deathly pale face, his cerulean eyes staring in the void, of Arthur's panicked breaths as he tried to wake up his father, of his own furiously pumping heart whilst the world came crashing down at his feet. He reacted instinctively as Arthur came at him with a sword, eyes filled with unswayable hatred, flinging him away with a powerful burst of magic.
And then he couldn't bear it anymore. He had to get out, out of this oppressing, cursed place. He started to run out of the room, placing one foot after another mechanically, and he had just reached the end of the corridor when he heard Arthur summon the guards to catch him. Tears blurring his vision, feeling as old as his disguise, Merlin quickly downed the potion designed to make him young again.
What followed was one of the most painful moments in his life, as he had to decide whether he should simply just run away, and loose himself in his guilt or whether he should go back to support Arthur, even though the simple task of going back to the royal room and facing the consequences of his actions seemed beyond his capabilities right now. But in the end, his loyalty to Arthur won out, like it always did. He simply knew that he could not let Arthur face this all alone, as he had had to do with his own father.
Shoulders hunched down with guilt, Merlin made his way to the royal room, finding Guinevere and Gaius already standing by Uther's bedside along with a distraught Arthur. The sight of Arthur, tears silently trailing down his cheeks, crushed under the weight of his loss, nearly made him crash to the ground as his knees buckled. He was reminded of another day, of another incommensurable loss, of words pronounced what seemed like an eternity ago by a different, confident prince: "No man is worth your tears"…
To see Arthur so defeated, so helpless and all because of his fault was like an arrow shot straight to his heart. It hurt, more than any other loss he had felt before, and yet he knew he had to stay to support his new king, the future ruler of Albion but more than that, he had to support his friend.