A/N: This was just something I really needed to get off my chest. It's a death fic so if you're not good with that then please don't read this.
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Merlin, but if I did then god help us all
Letting Go
The sword pierced through his chest.
White hot pain flared upon impact.
He did not scream, or cry, he remained silent, shocked.
There were voices, voices that he thought he recognised.
Everything was blurring, and he realised he was dying.
He wasn't scared.
Knights were surrounding him, yelling things he couldn't hear.
Everything seemed to slow down.
Darkness cornering his vision.
Consciousness was becoming harder to grasp onto.
He tried to hold on.
He tried.
But he was dying.
He remembered Lancelot, and hoped he would see him again.
That would be nice.
Then the pain was gone.
And he was content.
He did not hear Arthur's pleas for him to stay.
He did not hear Gwaine yelling and crying.
As his soul resided to its rightful place in Avalon, he was at peace.
He knew in time he would be reunited with his King once more.
For goodbyes are not permanent, they're just another way of saying, until we meet again.