A/N: [Warning: Mostly depressing feels over the finale].
Merlin looked out over the castle of Camelot. Below him, the regular activity of the streets continued, but appeared subdued. He stared at the figures as they went about their daily tasks. One color stood out among the rest. It adorned every arm in Camelot. Black. The people wore thick strips of the color tied around their arms in mourning. A few dressed completely in it.
Merlin turned away. Already they had heard the news. Already they mourned for their king. The thought of returning without Arthur sank deep in Merlin's heart. He gripped his staff. No, he couldn't return.
To be continued...