Arthur was in a council meeting discussing tax rates when he became suddenly aware of Merlin. It wasn't like the times when they talked in each other's heads; that was intentional. This wasn't. It was a surge of raw emotion—apprehension, fear, and above all, grief.

He had tensed in his seat, and Likmus looked at him curiously. "Everything alright, my lord?"

"Fine," the king said, but his voice shook. There was only one reason Merlin would feel that way. "Meeting adjourned." He stood, his chair drawing back with a harsh cry, and the councilmen sat in confused silence—save Likmus, who stood with Arthur.

"Shall I come with you?" He asked, looking concerned, and Arthur shook his head.

"It's private," the king said, and he walked briskly from the chambers. As soon as he was out of sight of the councilmembers, he began to run.

"Merlin?" Arthur burst through the entryway of the physician's quarters, his breathing heavy. "Merlin!"

There was no answer but Arthur knew where his friend would undoubtedly be. He took the steps two at a time and yet when he reached the door he stopped, and couldn't bring himself to push it open.

He had thought Gaius was dead, but now, even separated by a plane of wood, he knew the physician was still alive. He also knew he wouldn't remain as such for long. The sounds of his breathing were hoarse, ragged and wet, and punctuated by muted groans.

"I'm here, Gaius," Merlin was saying, and then Arthur heard something he'd never heard before, nor ever imagined.

Merlin was singing.

"Xen sero yatí

Fyjete poto speti,

Ala thae medo.

Thamino.

Piato ses thaina sisto,

Kito domatio sestoidio…"

His voice was so low Arthur almost didn't hear it cracking, or the shuddering breaths between words.

"O fovos deni ni skotini

Sta perierda meri,

Ya den parhun nichtes

Sti zusta ya tuvtosas."

There was a silence as the song ended, and then Merlin spoke.

"It's a lullaby," he said, and Arthur realized the sorcerer must have heard him standing behind the door. "My mother used to sing it to me when I was a child."

Arthur pushed the door open and stood at the foot of the bed for a moment. Gaius's eyes were closed and the rattling sounded even worse from inside the bedroom.

"Is he…" Arthur realized the answer to his own question and slid into the bedside chair where Merlin usually sat, covering his mouth with a hand.

"Before nightfall," Merlin said quietly.

"You should have been… a choirboy, instead of a physician's apprentice." The old man spoke in a halting whisper.

"Don't talk," the sorcerer murmured, hearing Gaius's lungs struggling to pull in enough air.

"I was so close," the physician continued, and blearily, he opened his eyes. One hand lifted from the sheet, pointing at a roll of parchment on the bedside table before falling back limply on the spread. "All my research. You can… you can finish it, Merlin. You have to." He blinked quickly. "I thought I had… enough time. I wanted to help."

"You've always helped me," Merlin soothed, but Gaius's eyes were rimmed with tears, and Arthur felt a dry ball in his throat and he looked away.

"I promised Hunith. I promised her."

"You've kept me alive, Gaius. If you weren't here I would have died a dozen times over."

Arthur kept staring at a single patch of light, shining against the wall. He watched the dust motes drifting lazily through the air. The light was dim.

"I'm so sorry, my boy, I'm so sorry." The old man was crying now and Arthur's teeth clenched. His eyes were burning. He couldn't swallow. "Merlin, she's in my head. She won't stop… she won't stop whispering…"

"Who?"

"Nimueh," Gaius whimpered. "She's right, it'll be my fault… I wasn't strong enough, I'm sorry…" He was choking, sputtering, weeping, and Arthur realized the patch of light was almost gone now. It was getting to be dusk.

"Nim—" Merlin tensed, but he seemed to steady himself, and his voice became soothing once again. "Gaius, whatever she's saying—"

"If I had just held on. I'm the reason she's coming back, Merlin."

"Stop it." The sorcerer leaned forward and wiped the tear tracks from his mentor's face. "You are…the best man I…" his voice broke, and he swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice was a little huskier, but clear. "You did the best you could, Gaius, and it has always been more than enough for me."

The physician's breath was coming louder, now, and although Arthur couldn't hear it, the man's heartbeat was slowing, too.

"I'll have—" Merlin's voice broke again, and Arthur turned in time to see his shoulders shaking. "I'll have your favorite meal waiting for you."

The old man smiled as his eyes finally closed, and where there was once the sound of labored breathing, there was silence. It remained unbroken for a moment, two.

Took him long enough, Nimueh said, her voice ringing like crystal in Merlin's head.

Arthur made to step forward when Merlin screamed. The sound was drawn out, stretching into an inhuman roar as his tears shook themselves free. Already his eyes burned gold.

"Merlin, don't!" Arthur cried, but the warlock was sprinting out of the physician's chambers even as his skin began to harden into darkly glittering scales. "You can't!"

Merlin didn't hear Arthur, and if he had, he wouldn't care.