It was silence.
A thick, deathly silence.
The only sound breaking that silence was of one's breathing. It was steady and controlled, like the way warriors control their emotions in a battle.
And that was exactly what Arthur was doing.
The prince shifted in his seat, gently placing the hand he was holding, back on the bed in front of him. The owner of the hand didn't even acknowledge the movement. He just lied there, still, unmoving.
Arthur had never hated silence so much before.
He slowly leaned forward and placed his head on the other person's bare chest, they had removed his shirt to lower his fever quite a while ago. He could feel the man's ribs beneath his cheek, making a mental note to force him eat more when he woke up.
The dark haired boy looked so skinny from that angle, with those sharp cheekbones sticking out and hollow temples not hidden under the lock of black hair. The prince's hand slowly rose to remove the ragged piece of cloth on Merlin's forehead, the same one he had used to cool his friend down during that night, the night before and the night before that.
He didn't need it now.
The soaked cloth fell on the ground but the hand didn't follow, fingers slowly ran through the raven mop of hair as the thumb rubbed the beads of sweat and trails of tear off the other man's face.
Why tears Merlin? Were you in pain?
The lack of rise and fall under his head agitated the blond man but he couldn't move a muscle, or his gaze as he kept staring at warlock's pale features. He could feel the skin beneath him slowly cool down, something they had wished for in the past three days.
"Your fever has broken Merlin" his voice surprisingly steady.
But why isn't your heart beating?
With great effort, he lifted his head from his best friend's body. He had works to do; they were still in Merlin's room, he didn't want to stay there, he didn't want Merlin to stay there.
If he did, they would come and take him.
They would take his manservant and would put him on a pyre. He didn't want Merlin to be burned, not now that his fever has finally broken.
Arthur stood up, moving towards the small drawer that the younger man used to put his clothes in. he picked a clean blue tunic, walking back to where his friend was lying.
"It is your job to help me dress, remember?" he chuckled, the other man stayed quiet.
The prince slowly crept a hand under the warlock's back, lifting him high enough to be able to sit behind him on the bed and helped the dark haired man to lean on him. Those limp arms made it take a few minutes for the blonde to dress him completely.
Arthur stood up and gently lowered Merlin back to the bed. Taking a few steps back, he took a glance at the result.
Merlin's face was peaceful, it wasn't flushed with fever anymore, though his hair was still damp from the sweat. The tunic had fit nicely on him, making him look neat and rather handsome, not that Arthur would admit it aloud.
"Why do you always nag about this part of your job? It was a piece of cake!" he smirked, but his smile faded as no cheeky comment followed.
The prince gently slid an arm under the boy's knees and one beneath his shoulder blades, slowly lifting him up, a chill ran down his spine as Merlin's head and arms flopped so lifelessly. Again, a few minutes passed as he managed to place his friend's arms on his chest and shifted him so that his head was resting on his shoulder. Then, satisfied with his work, he walked out of the room.
It was an hour walk to the lake of Avalon. Arthur's arms were aching from the deadweight he was carrying but not even once his mouth opened to protest. When the silvery surface of the lake finally came into view, he allowed himself to smile.
"We're here Merlin" he whispered in the other man's ear.
No wonder Merlin was so fond of the place, Arthur thought. The lake looked like a piece of heaven, even at night. The moon and the stars were reflecting on the still surface of the water, making it look like a sky itself.
Yes, he decided, it seemed a nice place to rest.
Slowly, with Merlin in his arms, he stepped into the sacred lake of Avalon and started walking towards the center. When the water was waist high, he stopped, returning his attention to the pale figure in his arms which was now half in the water.
He loosened the grip on his friend, letting the lake bear some of the weight. Merlin was now almost floating, except for his pale face that was held higher than the surface of the lake.
You must let go now Arthur.
A voice in his mind whispered. But he's just asleep! He would drown if I let go! He answered back.
He's gone, let him rest.
"no!" he murmured, breaking the silence of the lake. Merlin did look asleep, he couldn't just leave him there. His fever has broken, he whispered to himself, trying to keep his hopes high.
He's not breathing.
No no, that's not true.
His heart is not beating.
No no no, he's just sleeping, he would wake up any moment.
He's gone.
"NO" he yelled at the top of his longs, pulling Merlin out from the water and pressing him to his chest, as if trying to stop the lake from taking his friend away from him.
Then he finally broke.
During the past three days, he never let anything break his calm and stony façade, not even when Merlin was convulsing and thrashing helplessly, not even when his fever had gone so high he could hardly breathe.
Not even when he finally stilled, his breath leaving him...
But now, after three days of sleepless nights, after everything he had been through, he broke.
Because they were asking him to let go.
To let Merlin go.
How could he? How could they?
His shoulders were shaking with desperate sobs and tears were falling like rain, he pressed Merlin's head to the crook of his neck, crying in the boy's hair. His heart felt like it was being torn apart, his vision blurry and his breath hitching.
"Merlin wake up, I beg you, they want me to leave you here, I don't want to leave you" he cried, receiving no response from the still form in his arms.
He shifted so that their foreheads were touching, his tears were soaking the pale boy's cheeks, but he couldn't see anything past the veil of tears. He started rocking the body of his best friend, painful sobs tearing his soul.
"Please Merlin, Please…" he managed to whisper, cradling the body tightly.
Minutes passed in stillness, the princes wailing was the only sound that could be heard, as if the world was paying tribute to their friendship. When the cries finally died, Arthur pulled back, just enough to see that pale face one last time.
With teary eyes, he gently pressed his lips to Merlin's cold forehead, as a final salutation.
He was burying his heart along with his brother in the deep waters of Avalon...
…
Arthur woke up yelling, his heart hammering viciously against his ribs and his breathing was labored and quick. Sweat was soaking his hair and nightclothes, and a suspicious wetness was present on his face.
He frantically looked around, recognizing his chambers. The room was dark and the state of the curtains suggested it was still night. Without a knock, the door opened, revealing a tall figure holding a candle.
"Arthur are you alright?" came a concerned voice.
Arthur's heart rate picked as tears began falling again, but he didn't notice as all his attention was on the familiar figure in the blue tunic and brown jacket.
Something between a moan and exclaim escaped his mouth before he swung his legs to get out of the bed. His frantic attempt caused the blanket to tangle around his feet and send him sprawling on floor.
"Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" Merlin put the candle on the nearby table and rushed to Arthur's side, checking if he had hurt himself. But the prince stopped him, gripping his arms with such force that could draw blood, it took all the servant's will power not to scream.
"Arthur what is wrong with you?" he exclaimed, a little worried seeing the pale face and teary eyes. He had never seen the prince so afraid before.
"Merlin, is that you?" the blonde's voice was not much louder than a whisper. Now Merlin was seriously concerned.
"Of course it's me, what-" but he was interrupted when the prince enveloped him in an awkward embrace, pressing his face to his friend's chest and wrapping his arms around him.
Merlin felt like he was struck by a lightning, Arthur was crying like a terrified child in his lap, soaking his shirt with his tears. The shock stopped him from giving any sarcastic comment or teasing the prince, instead he just wrapped his own arms around his friend and let him cry.
"Shhh, it's okay, I'm right here, it was just a nightmare" he whispered, not knowing exactly what to say, while rubbing circles on the prince's back. His friend just sobbed, hands holding Merlin in a death-grip.
Arthur wasn't hearing any of his words. He was busy convincing himself that the hell he had been through was just a dream, nothing real.
He let his soul breathe in his brother's warmth, not that painful feverish heat, but a healthy and comforting warmth telling him everything was going to be okay.
He buried his face deeper into Merlin's chest, taking comfort in feeling the quickened beat of the other's heart, his numb mind could only whisper two words,
It's beating…
It's beating…
…
Maybe a bit too dramatic, but I was having a really bad week, so...
Plz review :)