Wherever You Will Go
He wonders if he's been enchanted. He has always been selfish, conceited; it was easier that way, to keep the walls up and everybody out. His heart was festering slowly behind those stone and iron walls; built with hate and bitterness at it's foundation. It protected the very same things behind it; though they were shrouded with a veil of loneliness and sadness.
The Prince of Camelot wasn't supposed to have any real friends, his father had told him when he was old enough to whine about not having any. The King had then proceeded to remind him of the burdens that came with the crown, and the responsibilities and sacrifices that one of royal blood has to make.
Arthur never tried to make friends again. Sure, he had his knights; if one could consider the people he trained friends, but he felt it in his heart that they were. They trusted his judgement as Crown Prince, and they were loyal to him. That should be enough, he told himself, but so often he found himself hit with a loneliness so sudden sometimes he just felt incapable to carry on.
He didn't want to carry on any longer. He wondered how it would feel to just fall into an eternal slumber, devoid of any emotion and feeling. There would be no more pain, suffering, but most important of all, he would not feel that damned loneliness that pricked behind his eyes, under his skin and in his heart anymore.
He would have the darkness.
Arthur was so close to the brink when that bumbling fool came into his life, loud mouthed and brave. So bloody brave, he was. Merlin had stood up to him, anger in his dark blue eyes when he had seen Arthur harassing one of the servants. For the first time in his life, Arthur feels pure want; for Merlin.
Not for his body or his heart, no, those would come later. The Prince of Camelot simply wanted this man's friendship. He wanted Merlin to accept him; broken, shattered pieces and all.
Arthur feels the dull ache in his chest, but the only thoughts that run through his mind is that Merlin is safe. Merlin is here. He is alive. There is so much crimson and red, it clouds his vision. Merlin looks as though he wears a bright red hat, not unlike that which came with his ceremonial servant robes.
The Prince of Camelot lets out as chuckle as he struggles to continue to hold himself up, but it is merely an exhale of breath that turns into a painful splutter as he chokes on his own blood.
Amongst the red he can make out those bright blue eyes that he would die for. That he is dying for. He feels cool fingers stroke his cheek, and he wants to close his eyes and fall into that eternal slumber, but then he realizes that he doesn't want that anymore. Merlin has changed everything. No, Merlin has changed him.
He managed to slip through the tiny cracks with his friendly smile and easy laughter. His loyalty, friendship and his love. It warmed Arthur from the inside out and for the first time in years, he can smile. He has finally repaid Merlin the debt he owed. Merlin, that idiot of a sorcerer that always manages to put his life in jeopardy to save Arthur's.
He leans his head in to touch Merlin's; and they are so close. Close enough to whisper those last words from one dying friend to another. Close enough for the first and last kiss shared by two people who love each other. There is only time left for one, and one choice only.
Arthur parts his lips to whisper his goodbyes, and maybe one last insult; but Merlin takes things into his own hands. He pushes his lips onto his king's, hard and chaste; the taste of Arthur's blood filling their mouths as Merlin's tongue snakes between his lips to flick gently against his own.
He doesn't want to pull away, but soon his body is racked again with coughs; there is more blood now than ever. The lovers are nearly out of time. Merlin's tears trace clear rivulets as they streaked down his cheek amongst the crimson.
"Arthur."
Merlin isn't sure what to say, what to do. He only knows that Arthur is dying, and it's all his fault. His world's body shakes as he is racked with the pain of his wound. Merlin can only watch as more blood stains his love's lips. The color looked so violent, so out of place on Arthur's pale face.
He kisses the blood away as he hears his king's voice in his ear. "You need to pull the sword out, Merlin. I want you-" He is breathing hard now, even the slightest movement caused him pain. "I want you to be the one."
Arthur knows he is going to die. He doesn't welcome it like he would have before he met Merlin, but he cannot imagine a better way to die. A better reason to die; in the place of the one you love. At the hands of the one you love. Merlin nods, his eyes filled with his tears as he placed a palm on Arthur's back, almost to pull him into an embrace.
Arthur's eyes shut for the first time as he whispers,
"Stay with me, Merlin?"
He feels fingers stroke his hair and touch his cheek as he feels Merlin press his lips to his own.
"I'll go where ever you will go."
Arthur feels the pain consume him, he hears the beating of his heart, the clatter of a sword as it is thrown away. He hears his name on his lover's lips as they press against his own.
Arthur falls into the light.