Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any associated characters...
This is being written for Arra Frost, because you deserve a fanfic of your own, and I hope you like it.
~*Bleeding Gold, Breathing Light*~
~)0(~
Stars bleed trails of silver across a clear midnight sky with a strange, joyous abandon, as the night seems to still all other movement and sound, resolving into an alert, shivering wakefulness that defied description but could clearly be felt by all who inhabited the darkness.
The celestial bodies dancing through the skies seemed completely unconcerned over the goings on of a world, and a people, so far below them... but the moon, the glorious radiance shone down upon the pair of young men huddled by a shimmering, silver lake. At their back stood a silent guardian of ancient magic, merely watching their gentle exchanges with a sorrowful expression deep within his old eyes; for he knew only one outcome to this scene, and it would destroy them both to be apart of it...
Even now one of the pair laboured for breath, steadfastly clinging to life with every inch of his being for he refused to leave the other in such a state of despair, despite how pale he seemed. The other rocked gently, back and forth in short, comforting movements such as his own mother had made when he was young, ill and afraid. He hushed to the other not to speak, that he would be alright; long, deft fingers fumbling at the latches and grieves of the blonde man's armour...
Rapidly, random pieces fell away here and there, landing with soft huffs and clangs upon the soft, dewy grass below them. The cool chill of night seeped into the darker-haired youth's legs through too-thin pants, where he knelt on the wet ground, but he said nought and refused to acknowledge that not all of his sudden shivering was due to the emotional pain filling his heart.
.
At last, the man in his arms was free of constrictive metals, and he had to hold on firmly as the other gasped; near jerking out of his grip as a too-deep breath brought agony throughout the pale form. The sight brought the younger man to tears, which could be held back no longer as he sobbed unrestrained into the chest of his king, his friend, and the man he loved more than his own life... in desperation his magic sought of the pain of the other, tried to draw it into himself to give relief, but an overriding will forced the action back.
A gentle hand carded through his raven hair, "Now Mer-... Merlin, don't do anything silly like that again, I don't want to see you in pain..." whispered a choked off voice with sincerity and discomfort in it's tone. He grabbed hold of the other's tunic tightly, not looking up, not wanting to see the expression that the other's rain-coloured eyes held within their depths...
He couldn't help but feel himself whimper sadly, "Please, why do you think I tried? I can't-... I need you to stay here, with me... I'm not strong enough without you. Let me help..." Merlin scrabbled at the fabric wound tightly between his fingers in panic as the heartbeat under his ear started to slow down, the beat not as strong; the life beneath him diminishing as he did nothing.
Still, the resolve refused to break the other, who laughed in a kind way as the hand in his hair came to rest on his chin affectionately; though it was clear that the other's skin was much colder than it should be. The great heart was slowing, and there was nothing he could do about it, unless...
.
A tender voice broke into his thoughts, "I've told you... don't want you to... hurt yourself over... me, you beau-... beautiful idiot. My beautiful idiot..."
The warlock shook, trembling from head to toe as the words filled him with love and grief and confusion and pain and-... and-... and-... so many other things that threatened to burst out in a show of tears the likes of which the world had never seen before. Somehow he found the voice to gasp out, "Bu-... but you're hurting me now..."
This seemed to startle the other, whose eyes fell open wider than ever before in a show of raw concern; which was laughable to the hysterical side of Merlin's mind at that moment, for surely he should be more concerned about Arthur, than the King was of him... but he had known the moment that the words, 'because I love you!' had blurted out during a private fight in his royal clotpole's chambers, that this was how it would be. Love, pain, emotion... given and reciprocated freely...
Arthur could no more stand to see him in pain, than he could stand to watch the great life they had together slip away as he clutched uselessly to the injured body.
.
"Merlin, breathe... for me... I need you to be brave now, be-... because you must take up my role as ruler in my-... my absence..." whispered Arthur through rapidly paling lips, the hand not pressed to his warlock's cheek was firmly clasping the other's upper arm; almost curling himself in on his... well, the official term was Prince-Consort, but to Arthur he was more than that... Merlin was his everything... and paltry titles like 'lover', 'husband' and 'partner' seemed to hold little meaning in comparison.
"B-but I don't want... not without you, please let me... please... you're breaking my heart!" Merlin screamed in a voice so broken it burned through every nerve in his body like fire and several nocturnal creatures took fright in the nearby woods. His heart nearly gave out then and there, but did his best to cling to the beautiful dark-haired man with the best of his strength, grounding him as only he could as the other's eyes flashed golden... shimmering gold tears falling, warm where they hit his cold skin.
"No, please, don't cr-... please, stop... Merlin I love you, dammnit calm down!" the King grunted as he forced himself up slightly in the warlock's grip, so he could put weary arms about the lithe, shaking shoulders and rest his head in the crook of Merlin's neck. The other mirrored him, clinging so tightly it was as if there seemed no other option for Arthur but to accept that death could not touch him in that embrace...
All that was, is or will be was here, in this moment; and he was safe.
"Just hold me..." he whispered into Merlin's ear softly, feeling strength ebb from his veins but trying to hold on for as long as he could... the only reply he got was the strengthening of the grip about him, holding him upright.
.
The great dragon laying beyond them bowed his head wearily and with great sadness, as though the entire world had collapsed upon him in a great wave; something warring within him like a pair of dogs fighting over the same bone. Kilgharrah knew this must happen, that time should rightfully separate them both, but to see the pain on their faces was not... not how he had envisioned this parting; their love was not expected, though inevitable.
Not foretold in this timeline...
Then perhaps the change, even though it did not affect the coming age of Albion in any manner, was for the greater good... though separation would only cause great pain to both of them, and a damaged heart can turn dark if given to waiting in solitude for countless decades...
Such a thing could not be allowed to happen, the great dragon rationalised, and smiled, raising his head to look at where the two men huddled; a gleam to his ancient eyes that foretold of some great scheme awaiting completion. He saw King Arthur open his eyes and stare directly at where he waited behind them, eyes distant but trying hard to convey something to him...
Perhaps the silent plea in their depths was for him to protect Merlin? Help him? Keep him safe from harm until they could meet again?
A remarkable amount of trust from the man who had only just met him hours previously through his... Merlin; but the fact that he trusted the dragon implicitly through the warlock's faith in him, showed how great a King the younger man truly was. The sentiment stirred his great heart and strengthened his resolve to this course of action...
He strode forward carefully, so very carefully to avoid startling either of them, and stretched out his wings in the ancient draconian manner of declaring peaceful intentions... Merlin did not turn around, but he was certain the boy could sense him; Arthur watched him warily, almost too far beyond this world to truly show alarm at the approach of a former foe.
The great dragon paused his approach a mere metre from where the two were intertwined in desperate determination, clutching hard to one another like nothing on this world could shake them apart; not even Death itself. With a silent, approving regard, Kilgharrah stretched forth his great, long neck and rested carefully the tip of his nose upon the unburdened shoulder of the young warlock.
With an internal quiver of energies beyond most mortal comprehension, the ancient creature of the Old Religion breathed out gently and sent forth the greatest gift he could give...
.
Merlin gasped as the sensation of great power rippled through his body at the point of contact, awakening and enhancing his own like a warm, gentle bolt of lightning straight to his core and animating every pore of his being. The movement jolted the blonde in his arms, sliding him down once more into a reclined position within his lap, though his silence about the change was a testament to how close to the end they truly were...
He could see the reflection of his golden eyes in his beloved Arthur's dimming blue orbs, locked onto his own as he faded away...
.
And it seemed as if the answer had been there all along.
Without hesitation, the warlock leaned over his other half and pressed their lips together with an almost desperate force, allowing the glowing ball of energy welling within his body to pour into Arthur, like air filling a drowning man's lungs. The magic wending through the King's near-limp body was vicious as it attacked the damage done by Morgana's blade, forcing out the lingering dark magic that stopped Merlin from healing it by himself...
Fantastical golden light poured from him, around him, like a glowing sphere of ever moving strands of light; finally exploding upwards in a column with great force, lighting the sky for brief seconds before fading away to nothing once more...
Merlin did not pause for breath, or break their kiss until he felt the other respond, pushing back against the warlock's trembling lips with force, and placing suddenly warm hands against the cold skin of his cheeks; shocking him out of the near-trance he had fallen into. Tears dotted his eyes again, to the young man's great annoyance, any further crying and it may just become his permanent state... but he could not help himself.
The relief was greater than anything he had ever experienced previously until this moment, the crashing wave of warmth and fulfilment in his heart as it pounded ecstatically was near overwhelming... and then he froze as something cold slid through his euphoria like a dagger of ice.
.
Arthur carefully extricated himself from where he rested upon Merlin's lap, knowing that by now the other's legs were most likely numb to all sensations, and knelt of his own accord; wonder played on his face as he brushed his hands across the bloodied rip in his tunic, skin below sensitive but healed and whole once more. Nothing greater than the tiniest sliver of white to indicate scar tissue from the supposedly 'mortal wound'...
Just a look to the ashen-faced warlock told him that all was not right within the other, even if now he had effectively helped the love of his life dodge the cold grasp of Death itself with... whatever it was that he could feel thrumming within him; it felt good, but odd in the same way. Arthur opened his arms indicating that Merlin should fall into them, but the other remained stock still...
"Merlin, are you...?" he asked gently, leaning towards the warlock in concern, and accidentally catching a glimpse of his distorted reflection in the well-polished metal of his discarded breastplate. A minor pang of concern rippled through his being at the realisation that a golden ring seemed to cover his irises for the moment... but it quickly faded to a familiar blue as he blinked; and immediately his attention returned to Merlin, as said gorgeous raven-haired man groaned like the dying.
He managed to catch the other before he fell, and tucked him close, whispering reassurances over and over again... trying not to think about how familiar this all felt.
.
With a great hum, Kilgharrah drew attention to himself once more; a pleased smile upon his tired features. "Fret not, little majesty, he will be fine soon enough... it takes great strength to let the life-magic of a dragon pass through your body, many Dragon Lords past have died attempting such a feat, and thus it was rarely ever done so for that reason. Though I warranted this occasion had the merit, and the necessity for me to try..."
Arthur visibly swallowed, stroking Merlin's hair absent-mindedly as he stared, "I-... I cannot thank you enough for this... please, let me repay you somehow, for all you have done for me, for Merlin, and for Albion..." he whispered in a reverent tone the dragon had only heard him use for the warlock in his arms. Eyes pleading for the dragon to ask of him anything, the faint golden ring around the edges pulsing with hidden potential...
"Ah, but what is yours to give has no meaning where it is I am going, young King, for material possessions are nothing to those beyond the Veil. Rather, I ask you care for this land, Camelot and the coming Albion, as deeply as you do for Merlin... and never let it go. The gift I have given you will ensure that Death can never have a firm hold upon either of you... but do not flaunt with it," his gaze was amusedly parental at that moment.
A great weariness was settling over him as he spoke.
Merlin fought his way upright, extending a hand to touch his muzzle, where it remained close; his eyes full of sorrow and thankfulness for what the dragon had done, "I wish it could have been otherwise..." the young man whispered. Kilgharrah smiled kindly, and shook his great head slightly to dispel the notion."I am one of the very last of my species, to give my life to ensure another's is an honourable way to return to the magic that created us all, and I would do so again in a heartbeat if time replayed. Do not feel grief for my passing young Warlock, though I know you feel keenly the deaths of those you love, I will always be with you... as my gift is now within the young PenDragon. A fitting name perhaps."
The great dragon laughed softly and rested his body down, head close enough for Merlin to rest his hand on the scales of his long neck as it curved around the pair; even Arthur hesitantly placed his hand upon the dragon, eyes watching for any sign of rejection, as they waited.
He hummed once more, feeling the pull of a world beyond this one calling so sweetly to him. "To have given back what was precious to you, indeed to know you, little Warlock, was a privilege in itself... and I thank you. All I ask is that you stay here, by my side, so that I may find my eternal rest beside the last of the Dragon Lords, and the greatest King who will ever live..."
He heard a choked voice say, "It was our privilege to know you, Great Dragon... rest and know that the world will never forget your name."
.
Time slowed down as the great heartbeat under their hands slowly tapered to a languid flutter, weakening each breath the great scaled flank took. As it ceased completely, Merlin threw back his head, eyes blazing gold and screamed some low, growled words of power in a language Arthur had never heard before. He could not understand them, but the meaning was plain... it was a thank you, a farewell, an honouring of the great life that had left this world...
The King bowed his head, and sent a prayer to the Old Gods for the safety of Kilgharrah, wherever he may now dwell...
.
.~)0(~.
Epilogue
"Over here, I found them!" came the excited cry of Sir Gwaine, as he tore out of the trees with Sir Percival stumbling on his heels, and Sir Leon bringing up the rear in a fast limp. Though battered and bruised themselves, this seemed of little concern the very moment the King and his Prince Consort were located; because, irrespective of their titles, Merlin and Arthur had earned their loyalty and respect many years ago, and finding their friends alive after such a battle... with such little hope...
It was only the at the whim of Percival that they had followed the great light of the previous night to the Lake, seemingly an impossible chance to find them... and yet...
It was truly a miracle.
.
The sound of hooves crashing through the woods signalled that help was coming. Gwen had returned to the small camp of survivors shortly after the trio had found the ruling pair's trail through the woods, for supplies and horses should they need them... she was not the foremost physician in the castle after Gaius for nought...
Her horse cleared the trees at the same instant that found Gwaine tentatively pressing his hand to the great dragon's side, and whispering to Percival, "Is this real? Do you see it too?" while the taller knight laughed and shook his head with amusement, before nodding his assent. Yes, he saw the dragon too, Gwaine's sanity -what little there was of it- was assured.
Gwen gasped as the sight of Kilgarrah met her eyes, for she had met with him more than once before in secrecy and on Merlin's orders; he had saved her life many times... his loss was a keen dagger in her heart. Quietly, she slid from her horse to touch the great scales and whisper a farewell to the great magical creature...
.
All four members of the rescue party skirted around a partially-extended wing, quietly following the dragon's body until, over the top of the great neck, two familiar bodies could be seen. It appeared Kilgarrah had wrapped himself partially around them in his farewell, and she supposed it must have been for Merlin's sake.
She scurried around to kneel by the intertwined bodies of Arthur and Merlin, grounding herself now so that when her hand pressed against their throats and found one or more to be still, she would not scream... for she had seen Morgana's sword bury itself deep within Arthur's body the night before; and should he have left, then Merlin may well have perished too. It was not uncommon...
.
Leon shuffled uncomfortably, leaning upon Gwaine for some support of his injured leg, and Percival watched proceedings impassively.
A schooled expression held like a mask over the features of all three knights present as her hands stretched out to press against the pale columns of flesh on display through ragged shirts, though it was hard to find a purchase point for her fingers, given how tangled they were. Gwen paused, breathing deep, making certain before giving a strange cry of happiness that she swore had never previously exploded from her mouth...
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she turned to whisper hoarsely, "They're alive... I don't know how but, they're alive!"
.
With a sad sort of groan, almost lost under the combined cheer erupting from Leon, Percival and Gwaine, Arthur moved away from Merlin and sat up slowly; one hand still resting upon the warlock's arm, and the other snapping out to latch onto Gwen's arm to steady himself. Immediately, her hand went to where she had seen the sword enter his body, but jerked it back with a sound of surprise as her questing fingers found nothing but smooth skin where a mortal wound once lay.
He sighed tiredly, "That would be a long story, I assure you..."
She reciprocated the gesture, "One I look forward to hearing... but let it wait until we once again reach the camp we set up upon our victory, while we awaited your return, my dear King Arthur. Can you stand?" The tone was querulous, polite, but he could see she was waiting for him to get up, fall down, and then have Percival carry him back to camp...
.
Certainly his body was healed of it's wounds, both superficial and grievous, but the process of such rapid healing seemed to have left a lingering lethargy within every pore of his being; almost as if he had run for miles in his armour without stopping an entire day or night. He knew that feeling quite well, thanks to his father's particular love for similar training exercises... but this was almost a good exhaustion; Arthur was certain that Merlin felt the same way, but he would have to ask the gorgeous creature asleep at his side, when he once again awoke.
"I-... actually, I don't think I can..." he admitted in a quiet voice, before flopping back to the ground and throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sudden appearance of the sun, in all it's blinding glory, this morning. "We never speak of this again... is that understood?" he called, in jest, to the Knights... and Leon was forced to slap a hand over Gwaine's mouth before the more boisterous of them said something that would get him tossed off the castle walls.
"Yes, your Majesty," Percival answered and came over to assist him; Gwaine hot on his tail, making a beeline for the still-slumbering Merlin who fidgeted like a fussy child when he was picked up. Arthur recalled nothing more of the ride back to camp, for as soon as they were astride the horses and making good time, he felt the urge to sleep once more.
Instinctually, Arthur felt his eyes slide back to where Merlin was being held carefully in the arms of Gwaine as they raced through the forest, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth to know that he was well, seeming both beautiful and peaceful even after the toll of the last few days had weighed so heavily on them both.
A sudden wave of exhaustion crashed over the King once more, and he felt Percival's strong arm hold tighter as his muscles relaxed without his conscious leave to do so; allowing sleep to beckon, safe in the knowledge that the future of Albion was assured, Merlin was safe, and that their friends would guard their slumber.
.
Neither Merlin, nor Arthur, flinched or showed external discomfort as a great, ancient voice whispered into their minds,
"Sleep Well, Your Majesties, the Future awaits you..."
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~*The End*~
I'm so sorry, Arra, I only realised you wanted a Merthur reincarnation fic after I wrote this...
Perhaps I can give you another one?
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
~*SailorSilvanesti/Phoenix Fire*~
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If there are mistakes of any kind, please let me know, I literally wrote it as I went, without any clear plot or heed to other such things... it spilled from my imagination through the medium of my fingers where they danced upon the keyboard... breathing life into my brain child.