"Hey," he gently shook Merlin's shoulders, but there was no response. "Hey, come on. We've got to get moving."

It had been about two hours. Arthur had stayed awake, watching the magic fire and listening to the intermittent coughing, moaning sounds coming from Merlin. He was getting worse. Arthur estimated he had another day, almost certainly less. They would have to hurry.

"Go away," the blue eyes didn't open but Arthur sighed with relief at the tired voice.

"Come on, Merlin. Stop being such a girl." He kicked out the fire and kept his voice light as he picked the man up. He felt, rather than heard, the sharp intake of breath.

"Stop, please," he whimpered, and Arthur shook his head.

"Look, unless you want to walk to Avalon-"

"I don't care about Avalon!" Merlin burst out, and Arthur froze.

"Gaius said it's your last chance. Why-"

"I can't, I...I'm just tired," he amended softly, and suddenly there was a chill Arthur hadn't noticed before. "I did everything I had to... just let me sleep, Arthur, I'm so tired..." the words were dreamy and yet they were colder than the breeze ruffling Arthur's hair. He shook his head and began to walk as fast as he could without jostling Merlin too much.

"When we get back home I'll give you a day off," Arthur said suddenly, desperately, and saw a smile playing at Merlin's lips.

"An entire day?"

"Two," he offered brightly, and Merlin seemed to drift back to sleep then. Arthur began to walk faster.

The trees, and the hours, flitted by and Arthur was in a daze. Merlin slept fitfully, and every time he woke he begged to stop and to rest. He cried out people's names- Gaius, his mother, Gwaine, himself. There was only one name Arthur didn't recognize: Freya.

His legs were burning, and his arms, but he didn't dare shift his grip on Merlin. Every time Arthur looked down the man's face spurred him to go a little faster. The lips were colorless, like the skin, and dark circles had formed under the eyes which roved wildly beneath sallow eyelids. His arms dangled loosely in the air beneath him but the fingers would clench and relax in white-knuckle spasms.

"Merlin, talk to me." Arthur was out of breath but he wanted Merlin awake, needed him awake, because he was worried the man might not wake up from his feverish sleep. "Wake up, Lazy Daisy. Remember? Rise and shine."

"Shuddup... clotpole." The reply was slow, spaced unevenly between ragged breaths, but it sounded like Merlin's usual inane banter and Arthur smiled.

"You know, after all that talk about notching my belt, I do believe that you've gotten fatter."

"I'd still...beat you, in a footrace." Just below his line of sight Arthur caught a glimpse of a worn but familiar smirk. He was trying to think of some sort of snappy comeback

it was hard, so hard. He always had some witty response on hand but this time-

when Merlin spoke again. "Thank you."

"For what? Carting your idiot self around because you went and got yourself into trouble?" he asked lightly. He knew what Merlin was about to say and he didn't want to hear it because the trees were thinning and he could see, distantly, the glint of water ahead.

"It has been... an honor, sire," Merlin said thickly. There was a beatific look on his face and Arthur shook his head, his eyes burning. "You are the greatest king... that Camelot has ever known, and I-I... I'm so happy I..."

He drifted into silence and Arthur faltered, looking down. The look of bliss was clearing, Merlin's eyes having slid shut, and he just looked tired. Tired and still.

"Merlin." Arthur realized he had stopped completely and he broke into a sprint, tearing through the last of the trees and into the lake. He fell to his knees in the shallows and the water was cold, so cold, and there was a keening noise coming from somewhere nearby

it's me, my God, but Merlin-

and there was something in his throat, something that he couldn't swallow and his face felt hot and he held his ear over Merlin's chest.

"-please, Merlin, dammit, we made it, we're here," he was sobbing, and then he heard it.

Thump.

It was so soft he thought he'd imagined it, until there was a second- too far apart, they shouldn't be that far apart- but he was alive.

"HELP ME!" He screamed, and it rebounded off the lake. He'd made it to Avalon but he had no idea what he was supposed to do and the clearing was empty. Nobody was coming to help. Precious seconds ticked by and he was losing him, he was losing his best friend on some godforsaken lake shore and it was supposed to be him on the sand, not Merlin, never Merlin.

"PLEASE!" Arthur cradled the man's head to his chest, half in and half out of the water, and watched strange rivulets of crimson ebb away from where they sat. Filaments broke away, winding like seaweed. "SOMEBODY!"

The echoes of his voice mocked him. The last traces of it died away and there was silence on the lake.

And then came the sound of wings.