A/N: This is a sad chapter, I'm afraid. Fortunately, there's some goodness in it too, though. To all those of you who are following or have reviewed or liked the story: you guys absolutely rock! Please leave me a review to tell me whether you loved or hated the chapter and why. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed, I still don't own Merlin.

Chapter ten

You're gone, gone, gone away, I watched you disappear.
All that's left is a ghost of you.
Now we're torn, torn, torn apart, there's nothing we can do.
Just let me go, we'll meet again soon.

Merlin's eyes darted over the surroundings restlessly. He needed to find a cave or another place to hide; Morgana was still on the loose and she was too close. Especially since Arthur wasn't in any state to move quickly.

The blond had been growing more heavy in Merlin's arms for the past hour. The warlock had used his magic to staunch the bleeding somewhat, but the spell hadn't been nearly as effective as it should have been. The entire side of Arthur's tunic was soaked, the blood had even seeped into the left leg of his trousers and his left boot. Arthur was breathing more heavily as well, something else that had Merlin worried.

But unless he found a secure spot there was not much else he could do but keep moving. He had no desire whatsoever to face Morgana, not before he could make sure Arthur would be fine. He needed to be able to focus solely on her when they met. The raven-haired woman would have to fight her hardest to stay alive when that happened. She had helped Mordred get to Arthur. Without her, the Druid-boy would never have made it this far. She would have to pay.

"Come on, Arthur. Stay awake. You can't go to sleep now. You might never open your eyes again if you close them now. Stay awake," Merlin repeated, the urgency in his voice growing with every word. The fear that was taking a hold of him was overwhelming, threatening to take his breath away.

Kilghara had predicted that Mordred would be the one who killed Arthur, and it seemed the Druid-boy was getting a good chance at making that prediction come true. Merlin had refused to believe it at first; Mordred had only been seven years old at the time, it had been too hard for him to see such an innocent child grow up to be a murderer.

Merlin snorted. Kilghara had also said that Merlin should be careful with his desire to see the good in everyone; the Great Dragon had said that it would cost him more than he cared to lose in the end. And that prediction had also come true. He'd lost Lancelot because he'd trusted even the Cailleach had had a sliver of good inside her. He'd refused to see how evil Morgana truly was because he couldn't believe she was all bad. Therefore he hadn't been able to help her and had lost her as well.

"I'm… I'm trying," Arthur ground out, a touch of anger seeping into his voice. The King wasn't used to being dragged around by others unless he'd lost consciousness in a fight, so this was something he wasn't at all used to. It was obviously annoying him, and he didn't know what to do about that.

"That's all I'm asking, love. Just tell me what I can do to make it easier on you. It might be a while before I can heal you up properly and I don't want you to give in. Not even for a second, do you hear me? You will get well again as soon as I can have a good look at you," Merlin promised.

The trees around them were too close together for Merlin's liking. He couldn't see all that far ahead, or in any direction for that matter, and his skin was tingling. Morgana was close, he was so certain of that he could practically feel her eyes on them as they staggered onward.

Merlin could feel his muscles beginning to protest against whatever movement he made. Arthur was a heavy load like this, unmoving and hanging over Merlin in a less than easy to handle manner. Supporting him when he'd sprained his ankle was one thing, supporting all of his weight was something else. Merlin might be more muscled than anyone might guess, but Arthur and he were about the same height, which complicated things in a situation like this.

Suddenly, Merlin noticed the rocky wall to their side stopped for about six feet. Maybe it was the entrance to a cave, maybe it was a ravine. Whatever it was, though, it would provide some sort of shelter, which was all they needed. Once they were there, Merlin would have a chance of using more powerful magic to make Arthur's wound close.

"Just keep moving. That's enough to… to make me stay awake. It hurts terribly…" Arthur said, the sentence broken and so soft it was only just audible over the breeze that was playing through the leaves.

Without giving his lover any warning, Merlin pulled at the man. Not missing a single step, he turned sharply towards the opening he had set his eyes on. Arthur groaned, muttering something unintelligible under his breath as soon as he managed to draw in some air. Merlin didn't have to understand what he said to know it wasn't anything nice.

When they reached their destination, Merlin was relieved to find it was a cave that didn't penetrate the rock wall very deeply. To make sure it was safe, he sent in an orb of light to illuminate the rock chamber. It turned out to be empty; there weren't even any signs anyone or anything had been there in a long time.

Merlin dragged Arthur in, propping him up against the wall as soon as possible. Before Arthur had even spoken a single word, Merlin was in his knees in front of his lover. He began to undo some of the straps keeping the armour in place so he could reach the wound itself. Hours had passed since he'd last tended to it, and they'd been outside that whole time.

As he feared, the wound was starting to become a little infected. It was still bleeding profusely as well. Merlin immediately tore a strip of fabric from his tunic to make some kind of bandage. It was the only thing he had, and he needed to buy himself some time to sort through the spells he knew. He had to err on the side of caution, and that meant he couldn't rush.

Fortunately, he had an idea where to start and how to do that. He took Arthur's hand in his and brought it up to the blond man's chest. He then pressed to down so hard Arthur screamed in agony. Tears began to trail a path down Arthur's cheeks, and Merlin felt himself begin to cry as well. But there was no choice.

"Keep that on the wound. Press down as hard as possible. I know it hurts, but you can't lose any more blood. You've lost too much already. If that continues, you might grow too weak for the spell to work very soon. And I'm not sure there's much else I could so. Apart from calling Kilghara," Merlin said, hoping the threat of surrendering Arthur to the Great Dragon would be enough.

Arthur didn't open his eyes, though, and the tears kept streaming. Merlin wiped the salty drops on his own face away. He then placed his hand over Arthur's and uttered the words he hoped would bring Arthur some relief.

"Orlegweore sé réadnes," he intoned, his eyes flashing golden before returning to their normal blue colour. Arthur didn't speak or move, so Merlin's eyes immediately focused on the wound once more.

The spell had had no effect, just like the first one he'd used. He let his head drop to Arthur's shoulder, although he was careful not to aggravate Arthur's injury or cause his any more pain. Arthur lifted his hand to lightly cup Merlin's head, though, not caring it forced him to let out another strangled moan.

"Morgana must have hexed Mordred's sword. It's the only reason my magic wouldn't work. I need to know what spell she used to find out what I can do to heal you. Else, you won't make it," Merlin said, his voice muffled by emotions and Arthur's tunic.

"You'll figure it out, Merlin. I believe in you. You've… You've done much more difficult things in the past. And… you can always count on… Kilghara to help you," Arthur wheezed, the odd paused even more present than before. He was obviously growing worse very quickly.

He had, however, given Merlin an idea. The Dragon might indeed be able to help. As a creature of the Old Religion he didn't simply have magic, he was magic. The difference was that every fiber of his being had been made with it. He had even been brought into the world by magic. Merlin was magic too, only in a slightly different way since he wasn't a dragon.

"You're right. I have to call Kilghara. He will know what to do. He's helped me so many times before and I trust him. He'll be here more quickly than anyone else as well, which is another good reason to call on him," Merlin said, pushing himself away from Arthur.

They would have to reach the end of the forest one way or another before he could call upon his old friend, though. Or this part of the woods would never be the same again, and he couldn't let such beauty be destroyed. He voiced his concern to Arthur.

"Let's get… moving than. I'm about ready to… starts screaming again, and… I'd rather have a good reason… for that. I am the King of Camelot… after all… no matter how far away… from my subjects I might be," Arthur ground out.

Merlin had to bite how tongue not to point out that having a very deep, bleeding gash across your chest and stomach was a more than good enough reason to scream in agony. It would only make Arthur mad, given the state he was in, and that would make him lose even more blood.

Merlin hoisted Arthur up as carefully as possible, feeling the blond grab on to his shoulder to aid in staying on his feet. It didn't help much, but it was something. Before, he hadn't been able to lift his arm enough to do that, so maybe the spell had had some effect but not enough for Merlin to see it.

Arthur's fingers curled into his shoulder painfully as soon as he started to walk, though. It was enough to make Merlin grimace. The blond was playing pretend, but his mask was slipping quickly. It was testimony to how badly Arthur was really doing. Time was running short.

Ignoring the bite of the thorny bushes littering the forest floor was a task on its own, but Merlin's focus was on making it to the other side of the forest. It shouldn't be that much further; if he remembered the maps of the area he'd seen correctly, they had another half an hour to walk.

Before they'd made it ten feet from their starting ground, a crack sounded somewhere to their left. Merlin immediately let go of Arthur with one hand, and Arthur reached for his sword. Even in this state, Excalibur would prove his worth should the need arise. Only, Merlin wasn't too sure it would do much against the enemy they were about to face.

"Hello, Morgana. I didn't think you were one to hide. Then again, I have been known to be wrong. You should ask your half-brother about that. He's the one who used to say that. I'd hate to see you prove him right after you've been trying your hardest to prove him wrong on ever other account," Merlin said, not bothering to hide the challenge behind the words and letting his voice carry further than normal.

He lowered Arthur to the ground, hearing Morgana step out from behind a tree. He spun around so fast the soil beneath his feet sprung up. That was the only reason he saw she had her hand outstretched towards Arthur and was opening her mouth to speak.

"Scield!" Merlin thundered, creating an invisible barrier for whatever spell the sorceress was hurling at the man on the ground. His word drowned out hers, so he could only guess what it was she'd said. It didn't matter now, so he focused on the look on Morgana's face. It was one of pure evil.

"So you're magic! A man of magic was at Camelot all these years, letting Uther kill his own kind? I wonder whose heart is darkest out the two of us, Merlin. I'm not entirely sure it's mine," she grinned wickedly.

Merlin let the remark slide off his back immediately. He wasn't proud of having sat idly by while so many were killed. But he'd more than paid the price for that; he'd suffered more than enough. And he'd had to, in order to fulfill his destiny. Kilghara had told him that. The Great Dragon had been a great help and pillar of support in those days.

"I did it for Arthur. He's my destiny and I couldn't let Uther ruining my part in Arthur's destiny and life. I'm not just a warlock, Morgana. I'm Emrys. And you shouldn't have angered me. Now, I have no choice but to show you exactly how powerful I am," Merlin's voice rang through the air.

After that, he lifted his hand. He could see Morgana preparing to use her own magic. But he knew she would fail. He wasn't planning on using his magic per se, and she wouldn't know until it was too late.

"fléoge, beaduléoma," he yelled, and Excalibur flew through the air. The sword punctured Morgana's abdomen and stayed still, floating in the air. Her eyes were wide with fear and disbelieve, as they should be.

Merlin approached her, taking the sword's handle into his hand as soon as he could. Then, he pulled it up and twisted it so it punctured her heart. Morgana sagged against him, her last breath leaving her in a great rush. He pushed her back harshly, making her tumble to the ground.

There were tears in his eyes, but he brushed they away. He'd never truly killed before. The woman who had tried to kill Arthur when he'd first arrived in Camelot had died a while later because of her injuries, and only because Uther had refused to let Gaius treat her. This was his first kill, and he felt terrible because of it.

When he turned towards Arthur, the man was lying on the floor with his eyes closed. His chest was hardly moving, his face was three times paler than when Arthur had turned to face Morgana.

"No! Arthur! Arthur, wake up! Wake up!" he shrieked, running towards the blond. It was to no avail, though, because Arthur didn't even flinch. He felt hot to the touch as well, telling Merlin the infection he'd noticed before had taken a strong hold with the help of the magic Morgana had given Mordred.

He grabbed Arthur and managed to lift him into his arms completely. Staggering, he moved south, knowing the edge of the forest wasn't all that far away anymore. he was still breathing, his heart was still beating. If he was fast enough, Kilghara might still be able to help.

Within ten minutes, he stepped out of the woods. Quickly, he laid Arthur down. His chest was moving even more slowly by then, and his heartbeat was hard to find. Part of that was because Merlin was so nervous his hands were trembling too much to do things properly, but he was certain the other part was because the man's heart was slowly giving up.

"O Dragon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!" Merlin called, not letting go of Arthur as he begged Kilghara to come. His hand was splayed over Arthur's heart for fear it would stop if he took it away.

True to himself, Kilghara arrived within the first minute after Merlin had called him. As soon as the Great Dragon saw the two men, his eyes closed. Merlin knew what it meant even before Kilghara landed fully and began to speak.

"I'm sorry, young warlock. There is nothing you or I can do. His time has come. All I can offer you is one last chance to say goodbye," Kilghara said, the profound sadness he felt clearly audible in his ancient voice.

Merlin's blinked back another wave of tears threatening to fall at those words. If this was the end, then he would say goodbye to Arthur with his head held high. That's the way they'd entered this fight, and that's the way Merlin would end it.

"Do it," he said to Kilghara. The creature of the Old Religion bowed his head lightly before bringing his snout close to them. His breath washed over them as he wordlessly released his magic.

Arthur's eyes fluttered open. They wandered around aimlessly, which told Merlin he couldn't see him. He pushed his regret about that away, caressing the blond man's face. Arthur leant into him, unconsciously knowing who was holding him.

"I'm sorry, Arthur… I can't save you. I waited too long, I should've been happy with tending to you out in the open instead of looking for a safer place. It didn't do us any good. I should have done things differently. Will you forgive me?" he asked, not bothered by Kilghara being around to hear the plea.

When Arthur spoke, Merlin understood Kilghara's magic was making it easier for him to speak, since his sentences weren't broken up like before. However, there was no change in his slow, uneven and too superficial breathing pattern or the fact his heart was beating too slowly.

"No, Merlin. I won't forgive you, because there is nothing to forgive. We could both have died if you hadn't dragged me to the cave before using your magic. And I would never have forgiven myself for that. This way, at least one of us can continue. The stronger one of us," he smiled, squeezing the hand Merlin still had over his heart.

"No, Arthur. You were always the bravest. Lancelot was wrong when he said that was me. You confronted your father when you discovered you liked men. You refused to let your life be dictated by anyone. And you never feared my powers. I closed off, pretended I liked women and kept my magic a secret. All out of fear," Merlin pointed out.

He settled on the ground, making Arthur comfortable between his legs. The blond kissed his jawline immediately, trying to convey without words how wrong Merlin was. They'd never needed words, they always understood what the other wanted or needed.

"I'm tired, my beloved. It's time to close my eyes. Will you tell me that you love me one more time? I would love for that to be the last thing I hear before I die," Arthur said, no sign of fear in his face or voice. Arthur Pendragon had always been courageous, and this was the first time Merlin didn't think he was too courageous for his own good.

"I love you. I always have and I always will," Merlin said, honouring Arthur's last request. It wasn't hard to do, and the words hadn't lost their meaning despite having been used a million times before.

"I love you too," Arthur said, a smile spreading across his face as he wove his fingers between Merlin's to further their connection. Merlin brought their hands up to kiss Arthur's knuckles and then softly pressed their lips together in the last kiss they would ever share.

Arthur's released one last breath that ghosted over Merlin's lips. Then, his eyes closed and his heart stopped. Arthur was gone, his life had come to an end. Merlin wanted nothing more than to cry, but he wouldn't do that in front of Kilghara.

So he waited until the Great Dragon took his leave before succumbing to his grief. By the time the tears stopped, the sun had set and the stars were twinkling in the skies above. But that night, Merlin didn't pay them any attention.

The only thing he paid attention to, was the body he still held in his arms when the sun rose to indicate the start of a new day.

December twenty second, 2012

That was where Merlin finished his account of Arthur's death, trembling a little even after having had so many years to come to terms with it. Arthur was rubbing his arms in an attempt to help him deal with the onslaught of emotions the story had evoked.

"Wow… That must have been so hard on you. I'm sorry for putting you through this… I shouldn't have dropped this on you without any warning. I can such an idiot sometimes," Arthur groaned.

Merlin smiled at the choice of words, feeling the unease and fear that had reared their ugly heads as he told the story abide.

"I understand. No one knows about their own birth or death. Those moments in our lives are always told by another. And I used to call you an idiot, prat, clotpole or a dollop head all the time, you were never too happy to hear me use those words. That might have been because you didn't know I used them with the best intentions at the time," Merlin said, taking Arthur's hand in his own.

"Maybe we should have a conversation about that next. Because I have no idea why you might have used any of those words, apart from 'prat', when referring to me," Arthur said, smiling as well now.

And Merlin settled in more comfortably as Arthur tried to persuade him to elaborate. He would definitely make him work for it. Perhaps it would have positive consequences for the both of them.