:D I seem to have resigned myself to the fact that I am going to freaking die. I now have six active fanfics, and the one that I was keeping as a one-shot just got updated. So now I'm going to feel obligated to update it more. *facepalm* RIP me. I swear this new fic will kill me.

Plus I need to draw pictures to go with Catching Petals! T.T so sesame2009, since you live closest to me, will you make sure and cremate me? I kinda don't want to be buried. Anywho.

I might make another one-shot. *slaps self* AGH WHY? Why am I so suicidal? Ignore me. Just read this effing fic. *starts to crawl away into emo corner with laptop* I will be in my emo corner if you need me. Typing. Crazily. Suicidally.

This takes place… I wanna say sometime after season four, but I haven't seen the last two episodes so forgive me if I get something wrong. Well, I've seen parts and snippets, and read the descriptions on the merlin wiki, but other than that… haven't seen them. Sigh.

I will see you all in the afterlife... :3

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Merlin groaned. Why did it always have to be him? 'Go muck out the stables, Merlin.' 'Go clean my armor, Merlin.' And now, 'Go deliver these to the guards in the South Tower, Merlin.' There were countless servants in Camelot all more than willing to serve, but who did the mighty king pick on? His manservant. Of course.

If only magic wasn't banned. If only he could just recite a spell and send the scroll to the guards without having to walk halfway across Camelot for some stupid errand that was more suited for the messengers to do. Heck, it was supposed to be a job for a messenger. But 'clumsy old Merlin' got stuck with it.

Typical.

However, Merlin had the nagging feeling that today was going to be different. It was like his sixth sense that warned him whenever Arthur was in danger. And today just seemed to ooze dangerous. Just great. On top of all of his chores, now he had to save his king and Camelot. Again.

Sighing, the manservant tugged at his red neckerchief with his free hand and readjusted his grip on the scroll in his other. Jogging slightly, he evaded carts and people loading their goods to market as he made his way across to the South Tower, where the guards evidently required some all-important message. Maybe he could warn them to keep an even sharper eye out today. No, that was stupid. Who would listen to 'simpleminded Merlin?' No guard would ever listen to a servant's advice. But time and time again the same idiot guards got knocked out in the crossfire from either somebody inside Camelot being possessed/being on the enemies side trying to get out, or somebody outside Camelot breaking in. Or of course the countless times that Merlin or somebody else had broken someone out of the dungeons. Stupid guards. And yet none of them ever resigned. They believed it was an 'honorable duty' to protect Camelot with their lives, when they really just get knocked out at the beginning of some important event and don't come round until they're either dead or the battle's over. Merlin was definitely glad he wasn't a guard.

Finally reaching the tower, he took the stairs three at a time and arrived at the top, panting and slightly out of breath. He leaned against the wall to rest for a moment then continued on to the guardpost. "I have a message from King Arthur," he explained, handing one of the guards the scroll. All he received was a grunt and a gloved hand reaching out and snatching the message. Rolling his eyes, Merlin gave a slight bow and flew back down the stairs and across town. Bursting into Arthur's chambers, back in the palace, he doubled over, gasping for breath.

"Need some help there, Merlin?" the usual prattish voice announced. Looking up with a glare, Merlin narrowed his eyes at the king of Camelot, who was perched behind his desk calmly inscribing something with a quill. With a raised eyebrow, the 'prat' grinned at him snarkily then went back to scribbling on his paper. His manservant regained his breath and flicked his head in that 'oh-of-course-blame-it-on-the-manservant' trademark look.

Approaching Arthur's desk, he gave a mock bow and said, "Is there anything else I can help you with, sire?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," the king drawled, not looking up. "Deliver this note to Gaius, and this note to Agravaine, and this one to… ah yes, Gwaine. Then you can polish my armour." He loaded all three scrolls into his exasperated manservant's arms and smiled cheerfully. "Off you go!"

Of course his Royal Prat had to be interrupted by the loud boom that echoed from somewhere in the vicinity of the throne room.

Cursing, all snobbiness vanished, Arthur grabbed Excalibur and brandished it at Merlin. "Get my armour!"

"Would you like it to be polished first, sire?" Merlin asked with a straight face, doing his best impersonation of George the Bootlicker. "Or shall I just fetch it-"

"NOW, MERLIN!" Sighing, Merlin scurried off to the other room and grabbed the armour. Thankfully Arthur tended to wear his chainmail a lot, so forty pounds were spared from the manservant's load. Grunting under the weight, he made his way slowly back into the main bedroom, then quickly strapped on every piece, fingers flying. As an afterthought he grabbed the signature red cape and nearly throttled Arthur while wrestling it around the king's neck.

"Merlin, just finish and let's get the hell out there!" Merlin just grinned and dashed off to grab his own sword, and followed the billowing crimson cape out of the chambers.

They emerged into a rather silent hallway. "What the hell?" Arthur muttered, but continued running towards the throne room. To his surprise the door was already open. Well, it was blown off it's hinges and in pieces on the floor. But whatever.

Standing in the room was an angry knot of knights – Leon, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan with swords drawn and pointed at… oh great. Morgana. Merlin sighed inwardly. Why does it always have to be her? And I had less chores than usual today too.

"Nice of you to join us, Princess," Gwaine announced tersely, but with a hint of his usual swagger. Arthur grit his teeth.

"I am the king, Sir Gwaine."

"Oh, right. Sorry, your Queenshipness."

Growling, the king strode forward with Excalibur drawn and leveled at Morgana's throat. She was sitting rather nonchalantly on his throne, with a mocking grin on her face and several dead guards at her feet. "So lovely to see you!" she said sweetly, but eyes flashed with a malice that completely ruined the tone.

"What do you want, Morgana?" Arthur hissed. He didn't want to go through this again. Being betrayed by his sister was bad enough – for her to keep attacking him and trying to gain control of Camelot for what, the third time? – it was starting to push it. Knitting his eyebrows, he took a step forward, still several feet from his multiple-time-usurper.

"Nothing much," she said in a singsong voice. "Just the throne of Camelot and your head. Separate from your body, of course."

"Why do you keep doing this?" he spat. "I have done nothing to you! You seek to punish me for my father's crimes, and he was a great man! The only thing you have left to gain from killing me, satisfaction aside, is my crown. And there is no way I will let you have it."

Morgana raised both eyebrows. "You may not have much choice. And you're right, you've never really hurt me directly – but I know someone who has." This statement was accompanied by a pointed glare at Merlin, who shifted slightly but stared back defiantly. Arthur was confused. His servant? What had Merlin done? He made a mental note to question the boy later.

"Plus, you may not have a choice," Morgana added menacingly. With a golden flash of eyes, Arthur and the rest of his knights were knocked backwards, but in some weird fluke Merlin remained standing. Possibly because he was farther back, or because Arthur's sister had excluded him. Probably the latter. As if to prove his point, said evil witch raised herself from the throne and stalked forward towards Merlin. Instinctively the manservant stepped in front of Arthur and raised his sword defensively.

"Idiot!" Arthur spat, trying to get up, but the spell acted like an invisible force, keeping him on the ground. Now Merlin was in danger. Just great. That idiot manservant just had to have slighted Morgana somehow in the past, and now the boy was going to pay for it. Stupid, stupid, stupid Merlin.

The thought flashed across Arthur's mind that Merlin was going to pay with his life. But the king refused to consider that and desperately sought to break free from his bonds.

"Why?" The sadness in Merlin's voice made even Arthur stop struggling for a moment. Morgana froze and narrowed her eyes at the servant. "Why are you doing this?" Merlin asked again, his expression showing nothing but sorrow. "You've turned against Camelot. Yes, you have magic, and I know Uther killed all the sorcerers and magic folk alike, but that does not mean you have to take it out on Arthur. Let us go, and you can have the throne. But you don't have to kill us. You don't have to kill your brother."

The king froze. Why was Merlin saying this? There was no way he would let his manservant surrender Camelot for him. He didn't make the decisions.

"What?" Morgana snarled. "You want me to just let you go? Fine, I'll admit, the only reason I have quarrel with Arthur is the crown he wears so arrogantly upon his head. But there is no way I will ever let you go."

Arthur decided he needed some answers, now. "Merlin," he said through gritted teeth. "Why does she keep talking like you poisoned her or something?"

"Because he did poison me," Morgana spat. Arthur's jaw gaped. Seeing his expression, his sister smiled cruelly. "Surprised? I don't see why. He's just the right type for it too." Her voice grew from singsong to something darker, more sinister. "Hemlock. Remember, Merlin?"

"You what?" Arthur gasped. Merlin turned his head slightly, and the king could see the palpable regret in the servant's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But it's true. The curse that was keeping all of Camelot asleep, when the Knights of Medhir attacked, was centered around Morgana. The only way to break the spell was to kill her." The whisper lowered until it was barely audible. "I had to save you, Arthur. Even if the only way to do it was to let Morgana drink water infused with hemlock."

Then the manservant did the most reckless thing he'd probably ever done in his clumsy life. He charged Morgana with the sword that in the past he'd had a tendency to drop. And aimed it at Arthur's sister's chest.

o.O.o

Merlin knew he had to do it. It was the only way – distract Morgana enough so that she had to cast a different spell to keep him away, thereby releasing Arthur and the others. "Run when you can!" the manservant cried and lunged forward, blade outstretched.

"Merlin! NO!" Arthur yelled desperately, but it was too late.

With a snarl and a quick muttered spell, "Onbregdan," the sword was yanked out of Merlin's grasp and into her hands. However much the manservant knew what was going to happen, he felt the wall of magic behind him that was holding Arthur disappear as Morgana's attention was diverted. His mission was complete.

So Merlin closed his eyes and waited for the sharp stab of agony that would soon consume him.

o.O.o

Arthur felt the magic imprisoning him vanish and scrambled to his feet, just in time to watch the silver blade of Merlin's sword piercing him brutally in the side. "No!" he screamed, but it was too late. Crimson blood blossomed across the back of his manservant's beloved leather jacket, and a small cry of pain was torn from the raven-haired boy's lips.

Growling in annoyance, Morgana tore the blade back brutally, but not before smiling cruelly and twisting it while it was still imbedded in Merlin's chest. A small gasp of searing agony escaped before Merlin slumped to the floor. He turned his face towards Arthur, screwed up in pain, and mouthed the word 'Go!' before flopping back over and becoming limp. Percival and Leon had to grab their king's arms and drag him back, out of the throne room.

Unknown to all of them, Merlin had managed to gasp a spell that constricted Morgana's magic for a precious few moments, and then one that would send her away to a remote region of the woods. Judging by the magical staff in her hand, she had started to raise some skeletons again to help her take over Camelot, but had arrogantly assumed she'd easily be able to defeat the motley crew that had stormed the throne room first. How wrong she had been.

With a cry of rage, Morgana was enveloped in winds and transported far away. Arthur and the knights took this as her way of retreating, and frantically scrambled over to Merlin, who was lying on the ground, the blood slowly pooling around him. A bolt of panic shot through Arthur when he saw that his manservant was staying so very, very still. "Merlin?" he rasped frantically, putting a hand on his friends' – yes, his friends' – shoulder and turning him over very carefully. "Merlin, you have to live. Let's get you to Gaius."

"No…" the manservant breathed. "You have to get out. Morgana managed to raise some… aahh… of the dead again. You have to… run… while you still can." Every rise and fall of his lungs pained him greatly, Arthur could see plainly.

The king almost whimpered, but his pride would subconsciously kill him if he tried that, so instead it came out a desperate plea – "Merlin, no. You're coming with us."

With difficulty, the manservant shook his head, and his blue eyes flooded with sad pain. "Arthur… I always wanted you to know… but I guess Gaius will have to tell you now." Then his incredibly soft voice grew urgent. "Get… Gaius out. Bring him with you. You have to… escape…" Merlin's eyes began to flutter. "Just stay… until I'm gone… and then you can leave…" Slowly his eyelids began to close. "Promise me you'll survive, Arthur…" he said with a terrible note of regret in his tone. "You have to… survive… so you can live… and become the king that Camelot needs. You are… the once and future king."

"No." This time Arthur did whimper. "You can't die. You've always survived. You'll survive this time, too." A tinge of panic became apparent, and he blustered, "I'll use magic to heal you! Anything. Just stay alive."

"You really mean that?" Merlin gasped, eyes wide. "You'd allow magic… just to save me? Like with your father?"

"Even if he doesn't, I'll find someone!" Gwaine snarled. "You're not leaving, Merlin. There's no way I'm letting my only friend die for something stupid like this. Come on. We're going to find a sorcerer, or something…" his voice trailed off.

Merlin shook his head painfully. "No. But Arthur… know that I'm so proud… you finally can accept magic… now that I'm gone…"

Arthur started to object, but his manservant raised a hand, silencing him. "Promise me… you'll escape… and live to be the once and future king? I've protected you all these… years… and there's no way… I'm going to let you die now… and you should know… I can finally rest… because you've accepted… magic…" Finally Merlin yanked his eyes fully open and fixed Arthur's blue eyes with his own intense ones. "Promise you'll lift… the ban on magic… for me? I've seen too many… innocent people die… because of that law." As his eyes drifted closed, he smiled. "Magic isn't evil… it's the people that misuse it… like Morgana… although that was partially my fault… I couldn't help her when she… needed it most… and for that… tell her I'm sorry. Goodb-"

Merlin began to choke a little. "Goodbye… and thank you…

Arthur."

"No…" A few tears slipped down Arthur's cheeks as he watched those brilliant blue eyes close for the last time. And they'd never open again.

"You heard him, we have to move!" Gwaine said harshly, but his hand trembled. "Come on, Arthur," he added in a whisper. Numbly, the king allowed himself to be pulled away from the still form of his servant and pushed, stumbling down the hall. They cut corners and avoided the skeletons that were plaguing the palace, before reaching Gaius' room.

Opening the door, they found the old physician holding his medicine bag and packing a few small bottles into it. When the knights burst in he looked up sharply, then nodded and hobbled after them. "We have to hurry, Gaius," Leon said in a low tone.

With his familiar quirky raised eyebrow, Gaius stopped and glared at them.

"Where's Merlin?"

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

merlin. Sigh. Don't worry, he's not completely gone.

~DeaththeKidKat