Merlin looked down at his shacked wrists resting in his lap. He followed the chain with his eyes to where it connected to the dungeon wall. One thought and the chains would disintegrate. A blink of his eyes and the doors would be open. But he didn't attempt to escape. For if Arthur sentenced him to burn, then surely he must deserve to burn. Funny how things worked out. He expected his magic to be revealed in a moment of blazing glory, perhaps him saving the price once more, or defeating another army. But no, instead he was discovered rooting through the dungeons looking for the magical artifact the latest evil sorcerer was searching for. With a magical light in his palm. Little bit incriminating, if he did say so himself. He sighed thinking of his mother and how heartbroken she would be, of Gaius, how his last words to him were be careful. Of Arthur and the look of pure betrayal on his face. He thought of Gwen, and the knights, and the people of Camelot. Would they be alright without his protection?
At last the time came, the guards gave him a sympathetic look. They still thought of him as the boy who would bring them snacks and talk to them in their long and lonely hours of guarding the castle. They unlocked the cell and the shackles. They waited for him to stand rather than pulling him to his feet. They then grabbed his arms gently, as a matter of formality rather than worry he'd try and escape. Merlin let himself be dragged along and soon enough; there he was facing his reoccurring nightmare. The Pyre. His heart sped up in his chest and he felt the urge to bolt. His magic sparked violently within him, aching to destroy the threat. But he did not release it, he walked calmly, he stood straight as they chain his arms to the pole. He saw the faces of his fiend and fellow citizens; unlike in a normal pyre burning there was no excitement, only sorrow. He looked up to the balcony to where his king stood. His face was of betrayal and sadness, he could not see the Arthur that would joke and banter with him, only calculated anger.
"Any last words sorcerer?" Arthur snarled, it was only a formality, but Merlin wasn't going to let it be, he did have last words, and he was going to say them.
"Yes actually," he said "I do."
He turned to his beloved mentor. "I'm sorry," he said feeling tears threatening to fall. "You told be to be careful and I have failed, don't forget me," he said letting a tear fall. He turned to Gwen and the knights next to Arthur. Gwaine was being held back by three guards. Their tear streaked faces differed greatly from the blank face of their king.
"You guys have been my closest friends during my time in Camelot, your smiles and kindness kept me going when I though all was lost. I only wish I never had to lie to you." More tears fell down his face. He turned to the people of Camelot " I hope you do not hate me," he looked down at the many people, some of which were crying. "I have sacrificed much to keep you all safe, and I would do so again" he looked down and saw Tommy, a young orphan he saw wandering around the market daily. He sometimes gave him food, when he had some to spare. He was an older boy but he possessed lots of innocence about him. Merlin looked at is bare feet, and then to his own boots stuck loosely on his own feet. He wouldn't be needed his shoes, after he was about to die. He kicked to shoes of his feet with some effort, after all, he was tied to a pole, but at last he got them off and kicked them off the pyre and to the boy.
"Keep them," he said, "I sure won't be needing them." Tommy looked at him grateful with his tear filled eyes. He choked out a short thank you.
At long last he turned to Arthur. "I was once told we were two sides of the same coin, I still believe that and as I've told you once before, I am loyal to you till the day I die. That day just came a little earlier than expected. So if you sentence me to the pyre then surely I must burn. Goodbye my king, my friend, Goodbye." And with that the pyre was signaled to be lit.