Revised!
This is just a short one that kind of popped into my mind… it only took me like 10 minutes to write it but then I decided I actually kinda liked it so I might be putting up a revised version at some point in time.
Disclaimer:
"Do you have magic?"
"No."
"Do you live in Camelot?"
"No."
"Do you have a dragon buddy named Kilgharrah?"
"No."
"Are you awesome?"
"…"
Warning: Please don't hate me.
He hadn't expected it to happen this way.
It was too beautiful a day, for one thing. The birds flitted around singing their sweet melodies, not a care in the world. Each was slightly different. Each had a different story to tell. They darted in between branches, in and out of the shadows. Fragments of sun shine shone through the dark canopy above, but not a single one pierced his sorrow.
He had always thought he would die a happy old man, with not a regret in the world. He and Arthur were supposed to grow old together. He had often imagined the look on that prat's face as he realized that his servant, his best friend, was in fact Dragoon the Great.
He was supposed to die knowing that his destiny was fulfilled. But now that would never happen.
Oh he had regrets. Great big piles of them (much like the piles of dirty laundry that Merlin had shoved under Arthurs bed that very morning).
He could go on naming them forever. But he didn't have forever, did he? Maybe a few minutes, but that was all. How could he tell Arthur everything running through his mind? How could he tell them that his secret was supposed to come out as just two friends whispering in the middle of the night by candle light. Or maybe by the campfire on one of the hunting trips that were becoming less frequent in the past months. He was supposed to tell him.
But things never turn out like they're supposed to.
He had expected to be greeted with smiles and open arms. Was it too much to ask for? He should have known better.
All those times in joyful banter when he had called Arthur a dollop head… He should have been speaking to himself. Although that would have raised a few awkward and slightly embarrassing questions…
And yet he still had not expected to be greeted with turned backs. It wasn't surprising. He should have seen it coming. He was too trusting.
Kilgharrah once told him that failing to see the wrong in people would be his downfall. Kilgharrah had also said that, while he sought the dragon's council, he often chose to ignore it.
He found it increasingly difficult to watch the king storm off from his vantage point on the forest floor, and there was a terrible pain in his heart.
It could have been the arrow, but Merlin knew better.
It was heartbreak.
Betrayal that his best friend had left him here to die by the arrow that was meant for him. How could Arthur not see the times he had saved his life? He really was a prat. But that didn't matter now, because this so called "prat" held a special place in his heart, and always would. Merlin vaguely remembered hoping at one point that Arthur had a similar place in his heart, just for Merlin. He still believed that once that had been true. But now that place no longer existed. And a small piece of Arthur had died with it. He could see it in the way the man walked away. Angry, but dejected, resigned. And immensely sorrowful.
Merlin closed his eyes, and the pain of betrayal was such that his heart simply stopped beating.
There was no time for fancy last words or goodbyes. There was nothing to say at all. Apart from one word: "Sorry."
And that word spoke magnitudes. It said all there was to say. He didn't see Arthur turn around to look at him one last time, nor did he see the tears of regret glistening in his eyes as he determinedly urged his horse into a gallop.
No, he certainly had not expected it to end this way.
"Really, Merlin, you're braver than I give you credit for."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Of all the things I've faced, I've never worried about dying."
"I don't think you should now."
"Sometimes you puzzle me."
"You never found me out? I always thought if things had been different, we'd have been good friends."
A small bird, no larger than a child's fist, alighted on a twig in one of the surrounding bushes. Though none saw it, it was a vivid shade of blue, but for the eyes. Those were gold.
The bird sung, and as each shrill note left its beak, it wove a story. A story of friendship and companionship. Of sacrifice and heartbreak.
But perhaps most important of all…
It spoke of magic.
Please, please, please don't hurt me (cringing but hopeful face)
The quote was from Season 4 Episode 1: The Darkest Hour Part 1
I know everyone says this, but I just want to ingrain the importance of reviews in your mind.
Reviews are like my skittles. Delicious and all rainbow colored and such…
:)
This was the revised version, and I'm thinking of making another chapter about how Merlin actually got hurt… it'll be action packed and full of sword fighting and stupid, extremely risky things (*cough cough* merlin *cough*) for all you adrenalin junkies out there… and other, normal people too…
…
MR. MOOSETACHE!
:{D