Arthur shut his eyes and prepared himself for the coming blow, he flinched when he heard the unmistakable sound of a sword squelching into flesh and the chink of a sword being ripped from a body. But no liquid dripped thick and warm down his sides, agonizing pain didn't tear at his senses. Arthur peeled his eyes open to see Mordred looking at the fallen warlock in shock. His sword dripped with blood, Merlin's blood. Arthur hardly had any control over his actions, he lunged forward sunk his own sword deep in his former knight's flesh.
"I'm sorry you felt you had to do this." Mordred gave his king a tight smile from where he lay on the floor, features shrouded in obvious agony. A tear began dripping down his cheek.
"Me too." His muscles tensed one more time and relaxed. His chest rose and fell. The twisted young druid knew no more. A warlock's tear mingled with the blood pooling on the ground. Arthur thought he should feel sadness at the young man's death, but instead he found the noble boy he once knew died long ago, and the young king mourned that instead. It's strange, how much crushed hope can do to a person. How much downed dreams can darken the soul until there is nothing left but a shell of who they once were. Arthur's eyes widened as he heard gasping breaths and remembered his fallen friend behind him.
The young king sat down amongst the mutilated flesh and blood of the battle field and brought the young man he'd long thought of as a brother close to his chest. He could feel Merlin's breaths growing weaker, his chest barely rose and fell under Arthur's hand. Arthur brought a hand up and gently guided the young warlock's head back to rest in the crook of his neck, he gently rested a gloved hand on his friend's matted raven head and spoke softly in his ear.
"Why?" Arthur felt tears dripping through the gaps in his chainmail as the weak warlock's shoulders shook.
"I don't remember why you're important to me. And I know you've hurt me before. But sometimes I get flashes of banter, of brotherly love and loyalty. I know I believed in you once, but above all I remember you being my best friend. And because of this, I know you're worth dying for. I think I would've died a thousand times over for you and that isn't going to change." Arthur could feel his own cheeks becoming slick and wet as his eyes over flowed.
"You're not going to die you clotpole." Suddenly Merlin's eyes cleared and a small smile came across his face.
"My word." Arthur gasped through his tears and ripped the gloves from his hands, the need to feel his friend's skin before it became pale and cold over bearing. He gently laid a sweaty hand on his pale cheek and each looked into the other's eyes, gazes full of affection.
Merlin brought a hand from his side, arm shaking but Arthur gently grabbed his skinny wrist and brought it back to the magic user's chest, gently stroking it with his thumb in a rare show of emotion.
"I'm sorry." Merlin looked up from where his head lay rested on his friend's shoulder.
"I'm sorry too." Arthur looked down.
"I acted like a clotpole, a prat, a dollaphead and a coward all in one." The young king laughed bitterly. "I guess you were right Merlin but then again. You always are." Merlin's voice was raspy and breathless. And he shook as he felt the sword fragment slowly slicing through his insides in a path set for his heart.
"And don't you forget it." A fond look passed the monarch's face before a shadow of sadness smothered it. He spoke softly.
"You don't have much time do you?" a sad smile flitted across Merlin's features.
"A day, but not here. Please. A clearing in the woods, I must say goodbye to an old friend." Though confused by the request, Arthur shed his heavy armor and chainmail, and re belted his sword at his waist. He picked his greatest friend up from the ground and cradled him gently against his chest. Merlin's eyes rolled back in his head but the young king let him sleep, hoping he would wake again.
Arthur strode through the forest, desperately looking for a large clearing despite his lack of knowledge of the area. Figures appeared ahead of him shrouded in cloaks. The young king went to draw his sword before realizing he couldn't exactly draw it while holding Merlin in his arms.
"Peace, my king, the druids are a peaceful people, we would never see Emrys harmed. Come, lay him here." Arthur inched forward hesitantly before finally laying his friend at their feet. The druid crouched down, hovering and aged hand over the wound. He sucked in a breath and Arthur could have sworn he heard him sob.
"I am sorry, the only beings able to help are the Sidhe at the lake of Avalon and that is many a day's walk from here. The best you can do is grant his last wishes. A clearing lies only a mile from here." Arthur looked at the druid quizzically, he never remembered telling him anything.
"His kin cry for him young king." Arthur shot the druid a searching look before scooping his arms under Merlin's frail body and once again setting off at a gentle lope in the direction he was pointed in.
One last journey. One last time. The king and his warlock. Coin sliced in half.
Arthur crashed to his knees at the edge of the clearing. He shook Merlin's shoulder.
"Wake up Merlin, we're here." Merlin's eyes rolled in their sockets before he finally focused on Arthur who gestured out at the large clearing. Merlin gave him a lopsided smile, mischievousness sparking in his expression before eliciting a sound Arthur never thought he would hear from a human mouth. An animalistic roar echoed in the clearing and Arthur felt freedom and joy bursting inside of him. It wasn't long before he heard flapping above him. It was the Great Dragon who helped them in the last battle. The king almost laughed at the way this absurd situation seemed to make perfect sense, of course Merlin could summon a dragon nothing could surprise him anymore.
The dragon landed with a resounding thump and its gaze overflowed with sorrow. Arthur looked down to where Merlin lay cradled against his chest to see the man wearing a sad smile and tears once again collected in the corners of his eyes.
"Hello Kilgarrah," the dragon shook its large head, Arthur knew if dragons could cry than Albion would be flooding.
"It will be an empty world without you Emrys." Tears began to flow freely down Merlin's face.
"I am sorry, I failed my duties as a dragonlord."
"No." Kilgarrah said. "Your father would be as proud of you as I was to serve you in the ways I could." Merlin grinned, a genuinely happy one which Arthur thought he would never see again, he found himself studying ever ridge in his face, committing it to memory. Merlin's voice came a mere whisper as shivers wracked his body.
"You think so?" The look Kilgarrah gave Merlin could almost be described as tender and loving.
"I know so." The old dragon bowed low, for what was the last time to his dragonlord. Kilgarrah remembered all those times he thought the warlock annoying and obnoxious and regretted every moment. He lowered his head and neck to the ground.
"One last time?" The warlock nodded eagerly. While Arthur looked horrified.
"We're going to ride that thing?!" But Merlin wasn't paying attention, simply looking wistfully to the skies. Arthur sighed and steeled himself. Anything for Merlin. He picked him up and climbed up the dragon's rough scales, setting the dying dragonlord infront of him and definitely not shrieking like a girl when the dragon took to the skies. Soon Arthur opened his eyes and though his stomach lurched and he felt he was going to be sick, pure elation rose up inside him. Merlin looked back and when Arthur saw his face, he could almost pretend the young man wasn't dying despite his slick red shirt and pallid complexion and the way his chest rose and fell unevenly, breath raspy. Although he relied heavily on Arthur just to keep upright, the young warlock's face was alight with ecstasy and there was a sense of calm and belonging which never seemed to fit with the warlock before.
Suddenly his face morphed into a sad expression, tears dancing in his ocean eyes.
"It's been an honor sire." Arthur looked at his friend fondly, gently ruffling his hair.
"No, it was my honor to have such a pure, selfless man at my side brother mine."
Suddenly Arthur was hit with a wave of affection. He lowered his head and pressed his quivering lips to the pallid, sweaty forehead of his greatest friend. A tender, loving act which Arthur never thought himself capable, an act which he had never done to another man before and he knew he never would again. But somehow, every single other act seemed to fall short of the message he wanted to convey. Of displaying the pure love he felt for this man, his brother, servant, adviser, warlock and greatest friend. And the thankfulness for what he did in his life. So as Merlin's glazed eyes began to slip closed Arthur pressed one more gentle kiss to his right cheek bone and couldn't help but notice the bittersweet taste of the sweat and tears as they hit his mouth. Merlin smiled one last time at his king, friend and elder brother as the blue disappeared from between his eyes for the very last time.
"Thankyou." Arthur clutched the warlock tight to his chest, sobs wracking his body as the dragon began angling down to land. As soon as the dragon put his head on the ground, Arthur slid off, hardly registering the pain as he landed hard on his bum. The lost monarch buried his head deep in the raven locks of his best friend. When he finally brought his head from his brother's, he noticed the dead man's expression, a hint of a smile and a serene look on his face as if asleep.
"Please young king, allow me to pay my respects to the last dragon lord. It grieved me greatly in the purge, watching dragonlords die by mortal fire." Later, Arthur wondered why he basically just gave permission for a dragon to cause mass panic in the court yard. But now he only thought of Merlin, and what he would have wanted. So he nodded to the dragon and got flown back to his people.
Kilgarrah insisted on watching them build the pyre, so he could make sure it was done right. Every now and then a loud voice would rumble, causing everyone to quake in fear except Arthur who listened with a slight smile.
"Yes, yes. No! You foolish, stupid insufferable puny human. That goes there!"
It took two days for the funeral pyre to be set up. Not many people lasted long under the dragon's relentless golden gaze. Arthur ended up finishing himself. Not that he minded, it gave him some closure and something productive to do with his hands.
The actual funeral was like nothing Arthur had seen before. His friend lay dead on the pyre as the dragon blew golden mist all over him and the structure. The pyre disappeared and Merlin's body hung suspended in air shrouded in golden mist. The dragon blew white hot flames, encasing the body in an inferno. A dragon rose from the flames, it was a magnificent beast, it glowed blue and tendrils of gold and white moved lazily around it. The dragon stopped near the top of the castle, looking down on the court yard with piercing, intelligent eyes. Both dragons, alive and spirit bowed low to the other and simultaneously roared loudly into the sky, releasing a jet of raging fire into the air, the spirit dragon slowly faded away and Kilgarrah looked mournfully at the skies one last time before taking off. Though Arthur felt he would see him again one day.
Arthur didn't say a thing at the funeral, just stood, body wracked with tears and an aching, burning agony tearing at his heart. It did not dull when his wife put an arm around his shoulders, her own face slick and wet, nor as the body faded away and his brother's dragon soul revealed. He didn't say what the man had done or what traits would be remembered after death like he did for all his knights. He just allowed his sorrow to take him. He cried like he never had before. And he knew that spoke more about what this man meant to him than words ever could.
Because really, his brother meant more to him than he could possibly say.