Author's Note: Thank you for the lovely reviews! Ah, if only I had no encounters with this strange thing called life, and could spend my days locked in my room with candle and ink to crank out chapter after chapter, but unfortunately, it doesn't quite work that way. I hope to update soon!
"Arthur?" He heard Merlin's voice, and could see his friend running towards him, but it was as if he was in a separate dimension. Arthur could make out Merlin's black hair and red neckerchief, but not much else; everything was blurred. His thoughts, too, were blurry and clouded, with little distinctness except for a few emotions that seemed to take over his entire being.
Regret, at leaving behind Merlin and Gwen; sorrow for the deaths of Morgana, Mordred, and all the others who had fallen on the fields of Camlann; and pity, for Merlin. His friend, as he was now discovering, had done far too much over the years since he had come to Camelot; from what Gaius had told Arthur, Merlin was the most powerful sorcerer–warlock– to walk the earth, and yet he had sacrificed his personal comfort for Arthur time and time again. Arthur found it hard to imagine that someone so– so scrawny, for lack of a better word, could be a powerful warlock… but then, Merlin had never quite seemed as weak as he looked. Indeed, he didn't look quite as weak these days in the first place– perhaps all the food he stole from Arthur's plate was finally paying off.
"Merlin," he said, surprised at the sound of his own voice. It sounded otherworldly and distant, unlike anything he had ever said before. Of course, Arthur remembered, he was dying; that just might be the reason for the detachment he was going through.
"I know what you're thinking, and you're not going to die! I won't let you, Arthur… I have a plan."
Arthur knew what he wanted to say… a plan, Merlin? Since when have your plans ever worked out? But his heart had other opinions on the matter; before he could even open his mouth, he felt something sinking in his chest. He tried to tilt his head, blinked, and realized that Merlin's spell on him was gone: he could at last close his eyes. At last, he thought. About time I got some rest…
"Ic ábene þé, Sidhe. Áspricaþ eac mé!" What was Merlin doing now? Arthur watched as his friend's eyes glowed gold, although he could barely make out the shape of Merlin's face.
A strangely high-pitched whistle filled the air, piercing the stillness with dagger-like precision. Arthur was sorely tempted to cover his ears, but he knew that wasting his few minutes of precious strength would be a dreadful idea. Merlin would probably kill him, if not for the fact that he would be dead in a matter of moments…
"You wish to speak with us, Emrys?" Arthur heard the voice, scathing and filled with vengeful tones, without seeing its owner.
"I do." Merlin seemed to ignore the harsh notes of the voice. He had always been one to see the best in people, as Arthur knew only too well. Although, was it a person he was speaking to? Arthur didn't have the strength to check, but at this point, he realized, Merlin could be speaking to anything and anyone. It seemed the servant had his own, vast network of connections… perhaps even more powerful than those in Arthur's circles. "You know why I have come, Sidhe, and you know what I will ask."
"Perhaps... perhaps not. What is it that you intend, lord?" Arthur could hear Merlin sigh, and immediately could picture his expression at the title. Merlin had never been one for proper respect, he thought wryly.
"The Once and Future King is on his deathbed. He cannot be allowed to leave this world."
"You know that his destiny is complete, and yet you wish to fight fate itself?" The Sidhe seemed to laugh as it spoke, reveling in the powerful warlock's discomfort.
"… I have no other choice. He must– he must live. Surely you see that?" Arthur's mouth twitched. If the Sidhe would see anything, it was surely the opposite, but Merlin had always been stubborn.
"We see nothing of the kind, Emrys. Why should we help you thwart your destiny? He will return, you know this."
"It won't be the same… He won't– be him." At this point, Arthur could hear Merlin losing his resolve. Would his friend finally let him die in peace? Perhaps the Sidhe were not as evil as Gaius had made them out to be in his childhood lessons.
"He wants you to kill him," the Sidhe answered, smirking. "Will you not obey your king, Emrys?" Arthur, watching from beyond the veil that seemed to now separate him from the material world, wanted to laugh. Obviously, the Sidhe had never interacted much with Merlin– otherwise, they would know that he never obeyed Arthur. But Merlin had lost his remaining patience, knowing that Arthur was about to pass beyond the point of no return.
"Will you do as I ask?" Rather than shouting, Merlin simply lowered his voice, nearly to a whisper. His normally cheerful voice was steady and sorrowful, so somber it seemed as if Death himself had taken refuge inside his vocal chords. "Or –must I do it myself?"
Translation:
Ic ábene þé, Sidhe. Áspricaþ eac mé! : I summon thee, Sidhe. Speak with me!
Author's Note: I am most definitely looking forward to the next chapter... some rather magical things are about to happen, in both the literal and figurative meaning of the word.