A/N: Surprise death fic? I wouldn't do that to you ^_~
And another (completely unrelated) thing- Why is it that we saw Merlin with Excalibur way more often than Arthur?
Next up- something completely different (undecided, I'm going to try to start Bound Together back up so this fic will become secondary)
Arthur was staring out the window into the courtyard, red neckerchief pressed to his lips as he inhaled the scent of his lost friend.
It had only been a few hours since a patrol had come across their king lying on his back with tears streaming down his face.
He had allowed Leon to usher him onto a horse, but ordered the rest to remain and search for Merlin's body under Gwaine's direction.
It was now well past midnight but he wouldn't- couldn't sleep until he saw him again.
I should be searching with them.
He honestly wasn't sure if he could bear the sight of what they'd find.
Glancing away from the empty courtyard he allowed his eyes to rest on his queen- Guinevere had tried to comfort him but had ultimately wound up crying herself to sleep. Arthur felt like he had no tears left, he felt so... empty. His father's words had echoed through his mind as he had lain, mourning for his friend.
"No man is worth your tears."
Merlin was worth so much more.
Why did I never tell him?
He knew the answer to that, of course, but it didn't make the pain any less.
His stupid, brilliant, loyal-to-a-fault manservant was gone forever and he could no longer tell the man just how much he appreciated him- how much he needed him.
How was he going to continue after this?
Could he truly be a great king without him?
The king Merlin had repeatedly said he would be?
The future seemed so dark now, and there was no longer anyone to tell him everything would be fine.
"It'll be okay, Arthur."
"Shut up."
Merlin's final words had come to him many times in the past hours, but they failed to provide any comfort.
"Just shut up, Merlin."
He had been wrong, he did have tears left and they were now flowing from his eyes unchecked following the utterance of those familiar words.
Never again would Merlin speak to him.
Why did you have to be such a self-sacrificing idiot?
Sounds of activity drifted in through the window and Arthur turned to watch the slow procession of knights led by a visibly distraught Gwaine.
Stifling a new wave of emotion he shoved the neckerchief through his belt and went down to meet his men.
"Did you find him?" He asked softly, his tone almost gentle.
Gwaine shook his head, tears in his eyes.
"The river must have taken him. All we found was this-"
He held up Merlin's jacket, wet and torn with darker stains on it- blood that had somehow escaped being washed off by the rushing water.
Arthur took the jacket and clutched it to his chest.
"He- he'll be given a hero's funeral. Tomorrow evening. You should all go now and get some rest."
The king turned, climbing the stairs and leaving his men to disperse on their own.
Merlin was a hero, and he would make sure everyone knew it. He'd also have to find someone to help Gaius now that his ward was gone- and he'd have to insure Hunith was looked after.
First I'll have to inform her that I let her only son die.
Shaking himself out of this vein of thought, Arthur sat at his desk and began drawing up official plans and declarations; everything that was needed to soften the impact of Merlin's death as much as possible. The work was therapeutic and the king found himself becoming drowsy, eventually falling asleep with his face planted in the still-wet ink of an official document.
"Arthur, help me!"
He could hear great pain in the cry, a shout in the all-to-familiar voice of his lost friend.
"I'm sorry, Merlin. So sorry I failed you-"
"No Arthur, I'm still alive. I need you to find me, I can't get back on my own."
He knew this had to be wishful thinking, just a dream, but he still felt the hope blossom in his chest.
"Where are you?"
"A- cave... follow the river."
As Merlin spoke, Arthur could see images of the place being described- nothing more than a divot in the cliff face, well away from where the servant had fallen.
"I'll find you, Merlin. Just hold on."
"Thank you Arthur."
The voice faded as Arthur woke, sitting up with a sheet of parchment plastered to his face.
"Guards!"
Two men answered the king's call, standing at attention before him and pointedly not staring at the paper stuck to their monarch's head.
"Dispatch servants to gather a patrol of my closest knights. Have them gather their gear and meet in the courtyard as soon as possible."
"Yes, Sire!" Both men bowed and rushed off to carry out their orders.
Awoken by the noise, Guinevere looked at her husband with concern.
"What is it, Arthur?"
He snatched the paper from his face and tossed it aside before stepping forward to grasp her arms.
"Merlin is alive- he spoke to me in a dream."
The queen's face fell and she looked at him with pity.
"Arthur, you can't do this to yourself. It was only a dream, you need to let him go."
His longing expression was heartbreaking, eyes pleading with his wife for understanding.
"Guinevere, I have to do this."
She gazed at him sadly for a moment before leaning forward to kiss his forehead.
"Alright... alright... but don't let this break you."
She didn't want to wind up tending Arthur as she had his father, left a hollow shell after Morgana's betrayal.
Arthur held her close.
"I won't. I just- I need to be sure."
Gwen nodded and kissed him again.
"Be careful."
"Of course, my love. I will return before this evening."
Before the memorial.
She watched him leave, still wearing the chain mail he had returned in yesterday.
"I hope you find him, Arthur." She whispered to the now-empty room.
Merlin awoke slowly, and soon wished he hadn't.
The pain in his head was crippling, not that he'd be able to move regardless as he was fairly certain several of his bones were broken.
The fog in his mind cleared just enough for him to begin remembering what had happened.
I fell off the cliff... hit my head...
His half-completed spell must have worked just enough to save his life, and it was pure chance that the river had spit him out- he vaguely remembered dragging himself into this small shelter sometime last night, not quite conscious enough to feel the pain.
He also remembered calling out to Arthur with his magic.
The warlock thought he should probably feel nervous about that, but found he only felt hopeful.
Arthur will find me.
And with that thought he passed into oblivion.
They had been scouring the banks of the river for almost two hours now and Arthur was beginning to lose hope.
It really was just a dream...
"Sire!" Sir Leon was waving, his other arm pointing to a trail of upturned mud.
Arthur sprinted over to him, seeing a cave nearby- the cave. He strode forward, almost afraid to look.
When he saw the pale form of his servant lying in the muck the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding rushed out all at once and he crashed to the ground at his side.
"Merlin!" His cry failed to draw any reaction from the other man and he reached forward worriedly to search for a pulse.
Once again he found himself sighing in relief when he felt one- weak as it was.
Immediate concern assuaged he began to check over the prone body, not liking what he found.
Plenty of the dirt caked on the man was mud, but all too much of it was blood.
His hair was matted with the liquid from a grievous head wound, his body was covered in cuts and scrapes, and Arthur could see one of Merlin's shin bones poking through skin and torn trousers.
"Oh Merlin..." joy and grief warred on the king's features for a moment before he reined them in, once again taking charge of the situation.
"We need a stretcher, one we can pull behind a horse to bring him home."
Arthur cursed at himself- he should have thought to bring a wagon and at least a few medical supplies if not Gaius himself.
"We'll get you home, Merlin. Stay with me."
He could only hope his servant would listen to him for once in his life.
Merlin awoke with a groan of pain. His body felt incredibly heavy- and it hurt.
He cast his blurry gaze about the room in confusion until the shapes began to resolve themselves into recognizable objects- one of which was of particular interest to him.
"Arthur?" His voice was weak and raspy as if he hadn't used it in days, but the king immediately woke from his light doze.
"Merlin? Are you awake?" His voice was tired and strained, as if he hardly dared to hope.
"Yeah, 'm 'wake. You okay? Look terrible..." Already he was feeling sleepy and could barely form sentences.
The king let out a disbelieving bark of laughter.
"Says the man with a cast for a body."
The invalid frowned at him, not understanding.
"Merlin, you fell from the cliff, remember? You've been seriously injured. We- we didn't know if you'd make it. You were out for three days."
The royal's tone was serious and laden with emotion. Merlin could see the weight of those three days in the bags under those blue eyes, the unkempt hair, and the outfit which was the same as the last time he had seen him- minus the chain mail Guinevere had forcefully removed.
The king had a haunted look about him that pulled at the servant's heart.
"'m sorry Arthur."
"Whatever for?"
"Making you worry."
"I'm just glad you're alright... well, you will be."
The blond reached out and grasped Merlin's right arm- his only cast-free limb.
"Be sure to never do it again."
"I'd like that." The younger man murmured, already half-asleep.
"You get some more rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
The servant hummed in response, quickly returning to slumber.
Arthur watched him, expression unreadable, then reached into his belt pouch and pulled out the red neckerchief that had been his only comfort during the brief (but all-too-long) time he thought he had lost his friend. "Never again, Merlin" he whispered, making a silent vow to remain vigilant and to make sure the man knew how important he was; the tear-stained fabric would serve as an eternal reminder of what happened when he failed.
"...'ve got ink on your face Arthur." The servant muttered in his sleep.
Arthur laughed silently until the chuckles turned into sobs.