A/N: To my readers and Fran (aren't you guys lucky?) ...I hope this lives up to expectations. I must admit – it wasn't that hard... I had to put myself in Merlin's shoes and thought about how I would feel and what I would do if I lost my best friend and soulmate. This is what I came up with...let us see if the shoe fits, shall we?

CHARACTERS: Arthur (briefly) Merlin, Gwaine, Morgana

RATED: M...

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort & Tragedy

WARNINGS: This one is dark, violent and quite shocking. Features suicidal themes.

What If...SE4EP6 - A Servant of Two Masters - Merlin manages to kill Arthur, and comes to his senses with blood on his hands.


THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN

A Servant of None

Blood...

Hot, thick, crimson gore coated his trembling hands as his mind slowly returned, piece by broken piece.

Merlin looked down, cobalt greeting deep cerulean. Cerulean filled with pain and shock and betrayal.

The King was confused...because Merlin did this – such a sweet and kind hearted young man turned on him in moments, pure malice in his usually gentle eyes as the blade of the dagger plunged into his flesh.

Arthur's blood...

His brow twitched, a frown beetling his dark eyebrows as he tried to remember. He looked at his hands – they were still shaking as they gripped the dagger...

The dagger that was currently imbedded in Arthur's midriff – the dagger that he...

Merlin swallowed convulsively, tears pooling in his wide orbs. The Formorrah in his neck was now dormant, leaving the young man to witness the damage it had caused.

He moved his hands from the hilt and stared at its intricacy, unwilling to meet Arthur's gaze as tears dripped from his nose.

'Why?' Arthur croaked weakly, his voice so shattered that Merlin wanted to scream. 'I thought we were friends...'

The young Warlock allowed a sob to escape his constricted throat and he squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to see the pain in Arthur's pale orbs.

'Merlin,'

The young man whimpered, his lower lip trembling. 'Arthur...' he gasped, his heart clenching with such pain.

The King was slipping away and Merlin couldn't save him. 'I-I...' Merlin took a shuddering breath. He couldn't let Arthur die without him knowing that he would never hurt him on his own volition. 'After the rock fall...the bandits took me to Morgana...' he explained, finally finding the courage to meet Arthur's gaze.

He couldn't stop the tears or the pained sob as he cupped Arthur's jaw with gentle fingers. 'I didn't...I c-couldn't fight it,' he cried, his voice thick with emotion. 'She stole my mind...she broke me Arthur, and...I'm sorry'

Arthur searched his eyes for any deception, and found that he could not believe sweet and loyal Merlin could ever lay a finger on him in anger.

He gave the boy's arm a reassuring squeeze and smiled. 'I believe you, old friend,' he gasped as a slow chill crept over his body.

This was it. Arthur Pendragon was going to die – King of Camelot for a mere six months, killed by his own blood through his best friend.

Who looked inconsolable.

His eyes were red and puffy, his face contorted with grief, and his body wracked with heart rending sobs. Arthur was dying – and Merlin would never forgive himself.

'Hold me, Merlin,' Arthur murmured.

The youth did not hesitate. He gripped the King with bloody fingers and pulled him close, pressing his cheek to his chest.

Merlin buried his face in Arthur's blonde mop and wailed, rocking backwards and forwards with his best friend pressed to his broken heart.

Several minutes passed, before Merlin looked down and saw what he only ever saw in nightmares. Arthur's eyes were open and unseeing, tears still fresh upon his pale cheeks.

He was gone. King Arthur was dead.

Merlin screamed, pulling his friend back to him.

'Arthur...come back, please!' he wailed, his voice cracking. 'I need you Arthur...'

He shook him, gently at first but soon the gesture became violent. 'Wake up, please wake up, please, please, please,' he begged.

Merlin barely noticed the others enter. Guinevere fainting, Percival carrying her away – Gwaine reaching out to him, tears wetting his beard.

The young man just wept, refusing to release the dead King to Gaius, lashing out at anyone who dare come near them.

That was then the grief changed. It was still there – it remained as before, leaving his soul a hollow void.

But then suddenly, he dried his tears, and finally paid attention to those around him. Pity, pain, concern...but he wanted none of it, through Morgana; he had killed his best friend. His Destiny.

Pure, unbidden rage rose from the depths of his very being and flowed through his veins with such heat, it was almost unbearable.

Slowly, carefully – he laid the King upon the floor and climbed to his feet, shaking now in fury. Gwaine reached out to grip his shoulder, but Merlin pulled away. 'Don't touch me,' he growled, his tone causing the Knight to flinch.

'Merlin, where are you going?' Gaius asked softly as the young man strode purposefully toward the door.

He turned back to his mentor, his cobalt eyes flashing gold for a moment.

'I am going to find Morgana...and then I am going to fucking kill her, like I should have long ago.'

Without another word, he quietly left the King's chambers, leaving the Physician and the Knight in open mouthed shock.

It took them several seconds to recover from the darkness they had seen in the youth's eyes, the cold determination in his voice, when Gwaine felt an iron grip upon his arm.

'You must pursue him, Gwaine...If he murders Morgana, we will lose our Merlin,' Gaius pleaded.

The young Knight sighed. 'I think we already have...and I think I would kill her too,' he replied gently.

Gaius shook his head. 'You don't understand...he already has Arthur's blood on his hands, I truly believes he blames himself, and I don't think he will stop after Morgana...'

'He wouldn't kill out of spite, Gaius,'

'No...'

Understanding dawned upon his face.

'You don't think he would take his own life, do you?' he asked incredulously.

'I think he may try...'

And that was all he needed.

*~*M*~*

Merlin rode through the Valley of the Fallen Kings at a gallop. He had not stopped, nor had he eaten since Arthur's death.

He just stared straight ahead, allowing his magic to guide him towards Morgana.

He was so close too...he could feel her darkness, her malice and her hatred, but it did not compare to his own – not by a long shot. The young man dismounted his steed and approached the hovel, his fists clenching and unclenching as he allowed his magic to flow through him.

With a deep breath, his eyes flashed gold and the rough wooden door was torn clean off its hinges.

'MORGANA!' He bellowed, stepping over the ruined door and into the dim cabin.

'You have magic,' she stated softy, a small smile curving her lips. 'A surprise, I must say...I feel lighter now. I take it Arthur is dead?'

With an animal scream, Merlin pounced, slamming the sorceress to the hard packed dirt. Her jade eyes widened in shock as his lithe fingers wrapped around her pale throat.

'M-erlin?' she was bewildered at his strength but tried to struggle nonetheless. He balled his hand and pummelled his fist into her face.

'Shut up, bitch,' he spat, pressing his knee into her stomach.

Morgana tried to laugh, but the fear in her eyes stymied the attempt to distract him. 'You can't kill me, Merlin,'

He punched her again, and brought his lips to her ears. 'I am your destiny...and I am your doom,' he whispered, leaning back and watching her face contort. 'You are Emrys...' she gasped.

Merlin gripped the hilt of the knife that rested in his boot and pulled it free of the supple leather.

'Yes...and you are dead.' He replied coldly, raising the weapon above his head.

Morgana screamed as the glinting blade plunged into her flesh, hot blood spraying his face. But he didn't stop – not until she was long dead and he felt the gore drip from his bangs.

He slid back, his breath catching. He killed her...he had killed him. The last of the Pendragons were dead.

Merlin sobbed, the bloody dagger dripping in his shaking hand.

The sorceress was beyond recognition. A mangled mess of flesh and skin.

The youth vomited, and continued to cry as he pressed the blade to the soft underside of his wrist.

With a whimper, Merlin hacked into his flesh, his blood mingling with the others.

Punishment...for murder. Two in one day.

'Merlin, put it down mate,' came Gwaine's soft voice.

The young man flinched as the Knight crouched by him.

'I killed them, I'm evil...' Merlin sobbed, gripping his friend like his life depended on it.

Gwaine held the sobbing boy close, but did not utter a single word. He wasn't going to tell him it was alright, because that was far from the truth. He had lost his dearest friend, took the life of another and tried to take his own.

No – he wasn't ok.

Gwaine feared he never would be.


Ok, so maybe it wasn't that hard...I just hope I did that kind of scene justice! I hope you enjoyed it! Fran, let me know if it worked

Next one goes to Natcel – who has requested Merlin with a badly broken leg...any series. Stay tuned!