It felt good to experience the chill of the night air, the freedom of it just being them again, of the open space, surrounded by vastness. There were too many other physical beings in that walled space that felt too small. He was tired of the questions he couldn't answer- not in any way they'd understand, not even old Artemis, for all his knowledge and wisdom. He was frustrated by the constant looks of concern when he couldn't quite manage to attach himself to them, couldn't bring himself closer to remembering how much he loved these people, couldn't remember to care about Kingdoms or soldiers or knights. He'd tried, but everything he did, or said, just led to more questions. The entirety of his focus was the boy, his other half, the destination of the bridge he'd been.
He couldn't explain to them that he spoke to Merlin in the Ancient Tongue because their version of English was too new, too modern, for where the boy existed now. Couldn't explain that Merlin had taken into himself a vast universe they didn't even know existed. Couldn't tell them how he knew that while yes, the body was deeply unconscious, Merlin's mind could still hear. It just couldn't process something so simple, so narrow, yet. He remembered vividly working to rebuild that mind, and he'd been successful for the most part, fulfilling his promise. There were some things he hadn't been able to do, however, and connect it to the here and now had been one. That, he knew, would take powers beyond what he possessed. So he graced his tongue with an ancient language he'd learned while acting as a bridge, hearing the echoes of all knowledge.
He could feel his own mind was building itself back, was slowly putting everything into place, putting him back in this time, this destiny, and he had to pray he didn't lose the language before Merlin remembered the new one. Some days, he remembered he was supposed to be King, now. Slowly, things he remembered no longer fascinated him quite the way they had when he'd first woken. He was slowly becoming whole with his body again- and it frightened him. He never quite lost that displaced feeling, but every once in a while, something would happen that he didn't have to sort out and find a way to attach to himself. He feared losing that connection with his lover before he could help him. Hour by hour, Arthur was becoming less and less the being that had once shared all the secrets of the universe with another being, returning to his previous state of existence prior to bridging the very essence of creation. It gave him some hope, though, to feel it happening. If he could, then someday, Merlin would return as well- if this worked.
Until he did, Arthur let the other knowledge fall from him, let his mind banish it as unnecessary, clinging tightly to the only language his lost in time lover could comprehend on any level. No, they didn't understand, and their simplicity of perspective had driven him further away. He had to hang on to this for just a little while longer, and their presence worked to anchor him more and more.
Arthur sighed as he added a large branch to the fire. It had taken a full day of riding, trying to be gentle of the broken body in his arms, but he hadn't spared speed for ease. Merlin was accepting less of his strength, his magic and body already understanding it was a doomed cause. He'd paced anxiously for days while waiting for Gwaine to return from Camelot with the fragile package he'd sent him for. Often locking the two of them in the small room for hours, just for a little peace from the pressures of the others. As he came back to himself, he couldn't escape the fear, the desperation, the terror that he would lose his lover, and somehow be left behind. The Link was to make sure that didn't happen, but he was no longer sure of it. Something had changed it from when he originally built it. That had been very clear when they'd connected. Undetectable while only having access to the surface of the Bond, everything had been laid clear for him once they had completely melded, the magic of the Link humming with a power Arthur hadn't given it. That fear screamed loudest when the others were near, and it was all too much for him.
Artemis and Gwen were furious with him, of course, for taking Merlin anywhere, both absolutely sure that because the warlock was still alive, he was healing. That he simply needed time. Arthur knew different, and hadn't been able to explain that any more than anything else- couldn't explain it was him that forced air into battered lungs, that it was him forcing a heart to continue beating. They could never understand the level he was connected to the boy. They thought they did, thought the Bond was the source of his certainty that time was running out for both of them. In a way, it was, but he had no way to explain this last hope, this last chance, offered little hope at all. That despite his best efforts, the boy remained so far out of their reach. No matter how hard he'd tried, he couldn't connect the lost mind to the failing physical body. He certainly had no way to explain that whether his hopes came true or not, this debt was long overdue, and had to be paid- even if it was the last thing he did.
"Time for it," he whispered, looking between the form lying close to the fire and the vial in his hand. Artemis had promised only that it would wake him. He had also promised whatever words Arthur needed to hear from him, they would be the last. He had no way of knowing whether Merlin would be able to communicate with him, would understand his need. Still, this was a risk he had to take. Not only for hope, but for honor. "Don't let me down, Love."
Gently, he used his thumb on Merlin's chin to pry open his mouth. He poured the potion in small drips, working the boys throat to force him to swallow. He shuddered to think how often he'd had a chance to get good at this. It hadn't been for nothing, he reminded himself. Albion had come to pass. Everything asked of their destinies, they'd accomplished. Except he couldn't banish the feeling- an instinct really- that it wasn't quite true, that something more waited for them. It was the original of his small hope.
Once it was gone he sat back and waited. It had taken some time last time, though Artemis had told him this one was stronger, as it wasn't mere poison it was working against. He was shaking, he realized. Nervous to see those eyes open- the salve and care Artemis had given had all but healed the burns around them- frightened Merlin would still be beyond being able to hear him, to see him. If he was, this would all fail.
Still, when only moments later Merlin let out a huge gasp, his back arching off the ground, it startled the King. He recovered quickly however, moving to place his hand under Merlin's head, using his other to soothe and calm the boy. Touch had been the first thing he'd remembered. He'd been working for days to prepare that mind, to anchor it to touch and sound, for this moment.
"Shhh, Merlin, it's alright," he muttered, waiting for the shock of the potion to wear off. "Shhhh. Tá sé ceart go leor, mo ghrá."
Slowly, the taunt muscles relaxed, and Arthur pulled the boy up against him. It probably wasn't wise to move him, but he needed to hold him, to let the warlock find an anchor in the strength of his arms, something that had always been part of their physical connection. Touch on an instinctive level, both drawing and giving strength in the times when needed most. Made all the more precious to both of them, he remembered, having almost lost it. He carded his fingers through the raven locks, another part of his own mind anchoring with the sensation on his fingertips, remembering the emotions that always came with the silk.
"Arthur?" Merlin murmured, confused, working his mouth slowly. Arthur understood the sensation, but knew they didn't have time to go through that process, to work through that confusion. He reached out with the Bond, wrapping it around them both, working the thread into activating the shields he'd woven into place as he'd worked to repair the damaged mind. Guilt flooded him as he sensed horrifying agony edging closer to the warlock's awareness. He spoke to the warlock on every level he could- new tongue, old tongue, and using the Bond to reach the deeper parts of his soul- desperate for the boy to understand him.
"Merlin, we don't have much time. You have to call the Dragon! Níl mórán ama againn. Caithfidh tú glaoch ar an Dragon!" He felt his lover tense, and shook his head. "There's no time. Call him! Call Kilgharrah! Glaoigh air!" he ordered, the command strong his voice. Moments, Artemis had said. He hoisted the weak body further up so that Merlin's forehead rested on his temple, paying no heed to the small cry of pain that came with the movements, understood how much worse it would feel to be suddenly remembering such a broken physical body. He couldn't afford sympathy right now, though. "Call him, damn you! Glaoigh air!" he yelled. "Something in you remembers how! Is cuimhin le rud éigin ionat conas!"
Arthur would never know which part of his communication reached the warlock, and he didn't care. Responding to the urgency in Arthur's voice, Merlin threw his head back. "O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!" came the powerful call, even as blood flowed from the corners of his mouth. When the last syllable in the dragon tongue left him, Merlin's eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back limply, the body going slack in his arms. The last of his strength given in obeying the final command of his King.
"Thank you," Arthur whispered, using his thumb to wipe away the blood. He'd heard the pain the call had caused. He hoped the Dragon had too, hoped it would lend expediency to the beasts response. He tried to push more strength through their Bond, but there was nothing left on the other end to receive it. He felt the last of the bridge crumbling, no longer having a destination to connect to. He closed his eyes to hold back the wave of tears. Absently, he touched his face. Yes. Another part of him anchored. He remembered this expression of sorrow, of joy, of hope, and of hopelessness. This had to work! Already, he could feel the surface power he had become so accustomed to leaving him. Could feel as the Bond slipped away, thread by thread. Once that was gone, the Link would be the final connection to break, taking both their lives with it. Could he bear to exist in such loneliness once that Bond was gone? To once again be a fully singular being? He didn't think so, even for the few moments he may have to.
A half span later, Arthur was beginning to lose hope. Without the bridge, he remembered now, this life. He clung tightly to that tiny bit of knowledge, but he let all else fade away. He smiled, even, as he finally allowed himself to connect to this space, however briefly. He remembered love, duty, responsibility. He remembered the purpose of the war, to hold back the tidal wave of Saxons trying to take their way of life. He remembered all he was, all he had been. Perhaps the final gift of destiny, he considered, to let him return to himself for these precious few moments. To carry all he cared for into the next life. Bit by bit, it mostly all faded, his mind whispering hints, keeping within it only that which he'd need to connect with the younger man. He tightened his hold on the warlock, tears now tracking down his face. This has been a desperate gamble from the start, but he'd been so sure…
He looked up as at long last the sound of powerful wings came to his ears. He tipped his head back to feel the breeze they created as the huge beast landed in the clearing, a few feet from their fire. A part him remembered watching the first dragon coming to this world. Remembered the great fireball that had given them their powers, evolved their bodies from creatures long ago gone from the planet.
"I had hoped, Pendragon, that you would have learned your lesson by now," was the first thing the Great Dragon said angrily, looking sadly at the warlock. "Because you have asked, I cannot help. All of magic can hear the outcry in your heart. We are not unaware of the great battle you and he have just fought. Nor are we blind to what he had to sacrifice to accomplish it- even now, I can sense how lost he is- but it cannot erase the past. You should not have stayed."
Arthur shifted, not enjoying the penetrating look of the Dragon. A part of him sensed he was being tested, that the dragon was looking for something. For as scattered as he felt, he left himself open to the beast, hid nothing. A part of him remembered Pride, remembered how important it had once been to him. It seemed so small, now. An image projected to protect himself, to protect others, even. So small, in the grand scheme. He was beyond that, though he remembered being on the edge for so long, open and closed at the same time. There was nothing left to hide, anymore. No image that mattered.
Arthur stood up, carefully lifting his burden, and walking it to the Dragon. He gently laid it down directly in front of Kilgharrah. "I won't deny that was my hope," Arthur answered carefully. Closing his eyes, he leaned over and placed a kiss on Merlin's forehead, taking a moment in his heart to say good bye. Then he rose, backing slowly away. "But it's not the reason I had him call you. If these are his last moments, then I believe a Dragonlord belongs with his Dragon." He swallowed as he stopped, looking away. "Could you save him, if I had not asked?"
Kilgharrah, who could feel the lifeforce is his friend, his warlock, his master, slipping away, shook his head. "I do not know. I could have tried."
"Then I make an offering of Peace to Magic," Arthur said strongly, moving to collect the satchel. He handled it gently. "You'll need him, but I couldn't... I don't know how much of him remembers how."
"Arthur, I know your heart means well, and I know you have come a long way from the boy who once threatened death and destruction…" Kilgharrah started, trailing off his eyes widened when Arthur took the object out of the bag, holding it carefully, and putting it delicately on the stump of an old tree.
"By my own sense of justice, I once threatened death and destruction. It is with this, then, that I offer the only counter strong enough. I balance that with giving in return a life for those I never took, but have threatened to do so."
"Then you know what that is?"
Arthur nodded solemnly. "I do. I've kept it safe in Camelot, waiting for this day."
"And how long would you have held a dragon's egg hostage?" The Great Dragon growled in fury.
Arthur opened his arms wide. "It was never a hostage. From the moment the memories returned to me regarding the egg, I went for it myself. But with its location came the memories of this dragon's alliance with Morgana, of the suffering it would endure while with her, of the twisted creature it would become. I couldn't let it fall into her hands again. I told no one of its existence, not even my father. I kept it safely hidden away, always waiting for the day when Morgana would be defeated."
He took a deep breath, blinking away tears. "I had hoped… I always had visions of it being both Merlin and I presenting it to you. I never told him, either. I remembered what he'd done the first two times. How certain he'd been that as a Dragonlord, restoring it was the right thing to do. And he wasn't wrong- he merely lacked the knowledge of what would come of it. As did you, my friend, for it was you who begged him to undertake the task. I'm sorry, truly I am, for keeping it from you both. But I knew those memories returned for a reason. Knew I was being given a chance to correct this mistake, spare it the suffering to come. In my visions, I saw a beautiful young Dragon full of hope. I saw that hope twisted and turned to hate. I've never been shown anything far enough in advance that wasn't a sign I had the opportunity to change it. Magic made this request of me, and I fulfilled it, even then."
"You did all that, to protect it? A creature of magic?" Kilgharrah asked softly, understanding.
"And more," Arthur answered honestly. "But Morgana is defeated now- Emrys saw to that- and that future can no longer hold sway. And as the life ebbs from him, it will soon go from me, too. If we do nothing else together, I wanted this gift of peace given. This final act of friendship, to both you, and to him." He frowned. "I know he's needed to call it forth." He looked hopefully at the beast. "Is there any way you can revive him long enough? I can give him the strength he needs to do it, if it's done soon. The Bond slips away more with each moment. All I ask in return is a few moments to say goodbye."
The Great Dragon studied the young King. Looked into his heart, and saw only truth. This thing the- then- young Prince, still heavily influenced by his father, had taken on himself to save, this offering of hope in the future. He reached into the burden laden mind, caught whispers of the same vision, then of the series of events that had truly taken place. There was something more, something recently shared that was now fading, but through all of it, he could feel the King's genuine intent with this precious treasure.
"This act, Arthur, I see for what it is meant to be. I, for one, accept your gift. Take hold of him, and I can revive him, for he is needed still this last time."
Arthur hesitated. "There's something you should know. He... he might not understand. His mind... what we experienced... his mind is still wandering. To accomplish all he did- I know you can feel it beyond even what I can claim to understand- he didn't simply access ancient powers, Kilgharrah. He became the very essence of magic itself, sacrificed all that was him. I fixed what I could, but his mind- Dragon, I can still feel how lost he is. I don't pretend to understand how his gifts as a Dragonlord work, how deeply embedded they are. I knew, for a moment, but now I've forgotten. You may have to find a way to remind him."
The Great Dragon nodded. "I understand. And more, I believe I understand the connection you have shared. Do you know what language we have been speaking?"
Arthur blinked, thinking back over the conversation, and blushed, then smiled, knowing that as much as had slipped from him, he retained that much still. "It's all he understands. I thought I used it only for him," he confessed.
"The Ancient Tongue is a gift, Arthur, and to hear it again lightens my heart. It is a thing that will soon be lost to man. I will try to anchor him as much as I can, as the connection of Dragonlord is ancient to man, but very young to the space where his mind dwells. It is vast even to me. An anchor will hold him temporarily, but I cannot say how long it will last, nor how much of his pain I can shield from him."
Arthur knelt immediately, pulling the warlock up against him. He closed his eyes as he felt the Dragon's hot breath on him, felt the ancient magic settle into him, into the boy in his arms. He breathed heavily as the spell washed exhaustion from him, an extension of the magic seeping into the warlock. He felt the few remaining scattered pieces of his mind settle this last time, into their final place. He remembered much of the experience, but the details became blurred. He felt a flash of fear, but realized nothing of his connection with his lover had been threatened, had instead been settled into his mind as a permanent. He breathed in relief, understanding that the Dragon had gifted him, as well. Had let him keep the only tongue the boy understood. He whispered his gratitude as he felt the fear that had been part of him since everything he had gained as a bridge as begun to slip wash away.
When it stopped, he gently laid the warlock back down, sure the upright position would be more painful for him. After forcing him to wake last time, the King couldn't bear to cause the boy any more suffering. He cupped his lovers cheek, unable to stop the half laugh, half sob that came from him when gold crowned azure eyes flickered open, searching for a moment before meeting his. There was so much else swirling in them, but they seemed fixed, however temporarily, in this present space. Merlin knew him, knew the now.
"Arthur," the weak voice breathed, sounding pleased.
A part of Arthur's heart broke when he heard the accent on the name, but he pushed it aside. He had to hope the broken mind remembered the Dragon tongue. It was obvious from the slow formation of his mouth that the boy wasn't fully connected yet. But it was enough. He had to hope it was enough.
Arthur nodded, reaching for a hand and bringing it to his lips, closing his own eyes as he kissed it. "Merlin," he breathed. Tears fell down his cheeks, pushed by the strong combination of happiness and heartbreak, but he ignored them.
Merlin coughed weakly, frowning, then some clarity seemed to settle in him. "Dying again, huh?" he teased, and Arthur had never realized how melodic the boy's voice was. He thought there was a part of him that would be greatly saddened if Merlin remembered enough of now to speak properly again. The gentle tease in a language that had always sound rough from Arthur's mouth flowed gracefully from the lips of the ancient creature.
Arthur couldn't stop himself from laughing even as he nodded. "I'm afraid there's no way around it this time." He sniffed, trying to pull himself together. "But there's something we need you to do first," he whispered, as if the request itself caused him great pain. "I had one last secret, Merlin."
"Thought... " Merlin coughed again, turning his head as he tried to catch his breath around the blood he spit out. "Thought we agreed that… that never worked… well."
"There isn't much time, so don't ask a lot of questions. A long time ago, I saved a dragon's egg," Arthur answered, smiling. "Kilgharrah is not the last of his kind. But the Dragon can't hatch without a Dragonlord to call it out. Do you remember? Can you remember how to speak to Kilgharrah?"
"I... I think so. There's so much..." Merlin frowned, struggling to hold on, to stay with his lover. His fingers tightened their hold on his lovers hand, used it to ground him, to remember his body, even as his mind tried to move away from the anchor restraining it. "You did… did that?... For… magic?"
Arthur shook his head, using one hand to brush an increasingly shaggy set of bangs from his lover's brow, delighting in the feeling of those silk strands in his fingers this last time. "I did it for you. For the future I knew could someday come." He smiled. "We did it, Love. Morgana is defeated. It's safe now, for it to be born. I know you're hurting beyond endurance- but this one last thing needs to be done, and then we can both rest."
He saw tears come to the boys' eyes as he remembered the Link. "No, Arthur... " This pain shot through him on every level, surpassing even the physical. It reverberated through every space of his mind, his soul. "No..." He coughed, choking, trying to dispel the fluids that tried to rise with every wheezing breath.
"Shhh, shhhh… it's alright. It's the way it was meant to be. Albion is safe. In this life or the next you told me, remember? We've both earned this peace," he reassured. "This one last time, Love, take my strength." This time the Bond came to him easily, however thin it had become. He let his strength flow between them, adding to it his gratitude for the years they'd had together, for all they had accomplished, his devotion and love… he held nothing back. He wove it around the anchor, used it to reinforce the shields already in place. He let his certainty that they were- and always would be- together, sharing all the memories of their life together, of their love. Memories of being so deeply a part of each other that transcended this life, and would transcend the next. No fear, he projected. Safe, and with only this last task left to accomplish.
Arthur slid his arm around those shaking shoulders, used it to sit the boy up, pulling the thin arm over his own shoulders, and the other around the lithe waist, taking comfort in being able to hold him so close. He allowed himself a brief moment of amusement when he shot a wink at his lover. "Let me do the work."
Merlin laughed weakly as it hummed in his memories. Arthur got his legs under him, used his strength to stand them both up. Arthur gave him a moment to adjust to his new height, saw him finally take notice of the Dragon patiently giving them this time together, giving his warlock time to be present. "My friend," Merlin greeted with a smile.
"It is good to see you, young warlock. I am sorry for the price you have paid for Albion," the Dragon replied sadly, and through his vision, the warlock could see the warmth, and love, in the ancient soul. The aura of the powerful race surrounded the last of its kind. He reached out instinctively, trying to touch it, trying to take in some of the beauty. He felt Arthur take the reaching hand, gently reminding him that some things were not meant to be physical. Could Arthur see it too? Could he feel the great sorrow of the soul?
Merlin offered him a genuine smile, wanting to chase away that sadness. "I have willingly paid it, old friend. To have lived- however briefly- to see it has been a true gift." He turned toward the stump. "What do I have to do?" He needed to stay focused, he remembered, a spike of torment reminding him of his damaged physical body.
"You must give it a name, Merlin. One of our Tongue. Search inside yourself, remember the power that is being a Dragonlord, and it will be revealed to you," Kilgharrah instructed as Merlin leaned over the stump. Arthur kept supportive hands on his waist, helping to balance his shaking muscles, helping him hold on as he moved through the confusion to search for the specific knowledge.
Closing his eyes, Merlin drew on the strength being unselfishly offered by his King. He found it, and let it out in a single breath "Ai-thu-sa". Then he opened his eyes.
They all three stood and watched as first one crack, then another appeared on the egg. Finally a white nostril poked through. Merlin stood back, leaning against the arm his lover had wrapped around him. He shivered as Magic began to leak through the cracks, envelope them. Life was such a precious gift. In this there was no struggle. The whole of the universe held still, waiting for this being so deeply connected to it to be born. A tiny white head appeared next.
Arthur watched, stunned, as they bore witness to the rarest of sights. A life had been given, and he felt the rightness of his actions settle into him.
"Can you feel it, Arthur?" Merlin whispered, his lips tickling his ear. "Feel the Magic?" He arched against his lover as it swirled around him, as it settled into him. Everything came together, then, when those tiny eyes met his. He gasped when he felt the vastness settle into a small space at last, when he remembered. Remembered everything that was here and now. Remembered the ties, the love, the friendships. The Dragon's aura disappeared from his sight, which he mourned, but the colors around him became brighter. The magic being released into the world by the birth healed as it passed through them and into their surrounding. He watched it, curious. Then he laughed, as freely as he had ever done. Yes. Yes, he remembered. He was Merlin. He was Emrys. He belonged to Arthur, mind, body and soul. The being that he had been contained within him by the little dragons completing its struggles to enter the world.
Arthur nodded, staring at his lover, feeling the broken body writhe with wonder against him, heard the lightness of laughter the burdened boy had never let loose before. It stirred him to regret the destiny that had stolen that laugh. It took him a few moments to realize Merlin hadn't used the Ancient Tongue when he spoke to him! His heart swelled as he realized that this final gift of self had been restored to his lover as well. He turned back to the birth, seeing it now with new eyes, seeing for himself what it brought to the world. He could only grin, having no words to express the wonder of the moment as the little dragon stretched its wings, breaking the last of the shell. He laughed when it gave a little hop, cooing at them.
"It's beautiful," Arthur murmured, his heart near to bursting. At the end of his life, he was experiencing two miracles at once; it overwhelmed him, and he breathed it in, took in the love, the joy, the beauty of the moment.
"A white dragon is indeed a rare thing… and fitting. For in the dragon tongue, you have named him after the Light of the Sun. No dragon birth is without its meaning," Kilgharrah informed them. "Dragons are as connected to the ancient magics of the earth as the Triple Goddess herself. You have brought not only life, but new magic as well." He looked to Arthur, nodding at the King's questioning look. The change of language- nor the timing of it- had not been lost on him, either. He had felt the moment when his spelled anchor was no longer needed. Felt when his Dragonlord and warlock returned to them fully.
"Is it… is it insulting if I pet it?" Merlin asked, reaching out a hand. He let the little dragon smell it, but it didn't seem interested in him, turning away, turning to give a squawk at Arthur.
Arthur couldn't help but also slowly stretch out a hand, surprised when Aithusa sniffed him, then butted his head against his hand.
"Oh sure, you he likes," Merlin muttered, smiling though, at seeing his King pet and scratching the little dragon. He felt peace settle inside him. A wondrous gift he'd been given indeed when that peace seemed to wash away his pain. Not like before, not like when he had been beyond the physical of his body, swimming in and out of connection with it. He was wholly connected to it now, and the dulling of the pain was simply his own protections so he could focus on the goodbye to come.
For the first time, he stretched through the Bond, let all he was wrap around his King, let his own love flow through them, feeling the hold on him tighten as he did so. He heard Arthur gasp, felt him accept all he offered through the threads that tied them together. It took the last of his energy, and he buckled, feeling the tension in Arthur's arm as he held him up, turning his attention to his lover.
"Merlin?"
"It's time, my Love," Merlin whispered, the rare endearment falling naturally from him. His hand rose to cup his lover's cheek, seeking to offer comfort, running his thumbs over the soft skin, to impart a tenderness that had so often been given to him. He'd been given a reprieve, but it was fast fading from him. With his connection to the universe gone, he was a physical being now, and this ruined body had given all it could. He wanted to make sure he had a chance to say it this time. "You never let me tell you on the field… but I love you too, always have."
Arthur shook his head, helping to ease them down to kneel on the ground. "I didn't need to hear it," he answered, tears coming fresh again- he hadn't thought it would happen this fast. "I always knew, Merlin." He leaned in gently kissing his lover, and didn't stop until those lips stilled. Until the form in his arms went limp, and those eyes never opened. "No," he ran a finger over Merlin's cheek. "No, please…" he begged, his grief creating a physical lump in his throat that made his voice crack. By the gods he couldn't survive this wave of agony again, even for the few minutes he knew it would take before being relieved of it.
"I am sorry, Arthur," Kilgharrah offered, saddened by his own loss. "There truly is nothing I could do to save him. I would have, if I could."
Arthur shook his head, sniffling as he hoisted the body closer to him. "No, it's alright. I'll see him soon." He looked down when he felt a butt at his leg, smiling to see the little white dragon. It seemed confused, and wanted to know why he hurt. He reached down, gave it one last scratch. "It was an honor to meet you, little one."
He felt the Bond slip away then, felt the threads of the Link he'd built begin to soften. He looked back at his lover, nodding as he felt darkness begin to claim him. "I'll see you soon." And he surrendered entirely to the force calling to him, willingly going to the rest they had both earned.
His last thought was that the mournful roar of a Dragon seemed a fitting end to the lives of Albion's First Knights.