A/N: Hello, everyone! I hope your holidays were great! I was having a pretty good day because my final exams are over now; we didn't have them until after Christmas break. But then I heard the news: Alan Rickman, who portrayed Severus Snape in the Harry Potter movies, is dead. My fellow HP fans, I feel your grief. I may have cried for a couple of hours earlier.

So this chapter is dedicated to Alan Rickman, in memory of his amazing acting skills and the fact that he was a wonderful person. May he rest in peace.

"After all this time, Severus?"

"Always."

"When I'm 80 years old and sitting in my rocking chair, I'll be reading Harry Potter. And my family will say to me, 'After all this time?' And I will say, 'Always.'"-Alan Rickman

He died at age 69.

On a happier note *sniffs* enjoy the chapter, everyone!

Summary: The soulmate words were seemingly the one form of magic Uther Pendragon could not best. Merlin has never wanted hers; they are sure to be a great deal of trouble on top of being a warlock. After all, soulmarks are a type of magic, and she has eight.

Spoilers for BBC's Merlin, Seasons One-Five

Warnings: Slight Angst, Multiple Canonical/Non-canonical Character Deaths

Chapter 6:

Leon is just as nice as he seems, and doesn't even look fazed when she gets up the courage to tell him about her eight soulmates.

"I am honored beyond reckoning to be one of them," he says. "And I thank you for telling me, Merlin." Yes, Merlin doesn't really mind having Leon as a soulmate at all.

The four weeks pass quickly.

She dreams of a woman with black hair and red lips twisted into a smirk, and wakes up panting with fear in the darkness of her room. In the dream, the woman, her features too blurry to identify her, has killed someone Merlin loves. The anger comes out full-blast, and it destroys the woman.

Merlin jerks awake in her bedroll shivering, and wonders what could possibly be happening to her dreams. Mighty warlock or not, this doesn't exactly come into her area of expertise.

They arrive back in Camelot just in time for the biggest hunt of the year, arranged by the various senior knights to welcome Leon back. Merlin really hates hunts. Bad things happen on hunts. The Questing Beast, for example.

The grief on Uther's face is devastating. Maybe even kings have hearts, even if ones made of stone. But Merlin doesn't have time to grieve when she needs to be saving Arthur. No point in giving up until he's gone.

Merlin goes to the Isle of the Blest, and trades her life for Arthur's. She's supposed to stand beside Arthur and protect him when he is king, Merlin knows, but if he dies now…well, there's no point, is there? And she could never ask anyone else to give up their life like this.

She stands before Nimueh, black hair even more disgruntled than usual, the parts that have fallen out from her messy bun curly and wayward. She feels small and insignificant in her trousers, tunic, neckerchief, and jacket next to this beautiful sorceress who looks so wild and magical with her scarlet dress, her perfectly crumpled and arranged mass of hair.

Merlin remembers her dream, the latest one, and recognizes Nimueh from it. Another shiver runs up her spine. But there is no other choice.

She gives Nimueh a single nod. Do it. The sorceress smiles, her red lips twisting into the smile from Merlin's dream, and suddenly this feels like a very bad idea. But she can't think about that now, she needs to get the water from the Cup of Life to Arthur.

Arthur doesn't die.

Before she leaves him, Merlin leans down and kisses his forehead and whispers, "I'm so sorry." She knows she won't get another chance to say goodbye.

Merlin has to say goodbye to Gwen, too. If she chooses to say 'Goodbye' instead of 'Goodnight, Gwen' like she usually would…well, the maidservant is worried about Arthur and doesn't notice. That's okay. Merlin would rather she didn't notice, anyway.

Merlin sees Leon at the marketplace, in the evening on her way home from Gwen's. The knight looks so relieved to see her that Merlin feels bad about not telling him that she's a dead warlock walking. They had become such good friends so quickly. They were platonics, they had decided. They were so comfortable and happy with just being friends with each other that they didn't need or want something more.

Merlin certainly doesn't need something more. And it wasn't like she hasn't noticed Leon flirting with one of the girls selling handmade jewelry at the last market day while Merlin browsed their selection.

"Are you alright, Merlin? I hear that Prince Arthur will live?" He says anxiously, grabbing her elbow. The worry in his blue-green eyes is obvious.

"Yes," she manages. "Yes, Arthur will be fine, I promise."

Leon relaxes instantly, his shoulders slumping in relief. "Oh, thank the gods. I—we were all so worried for him. I'll go and tell the other knights that they have nothing to fear."

Merlin nods, and the ginger knight turns to walk away. The young warlock hesitates a moment, then calls after him.

"Leon!"

Leon turns, an inquisitive look on his handsome face. There is only a moment's pause before Merlin's hug knocks him back a full two paces. She wraps her arms around the good-natured knight, who, after overcoming the shock of being hit full force, wraps his chainmail-and-cloak arms around her gently.

"Sorry," she says into the red fabric, her voice slightly muffled. "I…I just…"

"It's fine," he says, and Merlin can feel the warmth of his smile. "I forgot that Arthur is your soulmate, too. You must have been as afraid for him as we were."

"Yeah." She disengages herself from Leon and steps back. "Sorry. I…goodbye, Leon." Merlin turns and flees up into the palace before he can shove aside his puzzlement to reply.

She avoids Gaius, runs up the stair into her room, and sits on her bed to wait.

Merlin came to Camelot expecting to be arrested or heading home within a couple of months. But then there was Arthur, and Gwen, and Gaius became more like the father she never had every day. Lancelot came and went, and now Leon is here, too. She loves them, she does, so much it hurts; and it hurts even worse every time she lies to one of them.

She hates lying.

Merlin wonders if this would be easier if she could just die with those she loves around her. If she could stop lying, just once, just once in her nineteen years. If she could tell them that she's doing this for them. Tell them not to be sad that she's inexplicably gone from the world.

She thinks of the four soulmates she has yet to meet, and of how her words, black on their skin, will pale and turn to gray as she breathes her last.

No one likes to talk about what it means when soulmarks fade to gray, because it means that the person who put them there is dead. Hunith used to check hers morning and night, just to make sure that Merlin's father's words were still deep black.

None of Merlin's marks are gray; all of her soulmates are alive. None of them have died before she can meet them, at least not yet.

But the warlock hates to think of how they will feel, waking up the next morning to find that a set of words has turned a pale, ghostly gray, that a soulmate is dead. That someone they might have loved, someone they never even met is gone with hardly a trace to ever show that they existed.

She avoids thinking of how Will's soulmate must have felt, when he died. She doesn't like to wonder if Be more respectful, won't you? mourned at all.

Gwen will be devastated. Arthur will brood, and perhaps pretend that her death does not hurt him. Merlin feels selfish for hoping she means enough that it might. Leon will grieve, too. Platonic though they are, they are still soulmates, and he loves her as she loves him.

Lancelot…Merlin never really knows what to think about Lancelot.

But Merlin will never have a chance to learn if the others will care, if they might weep for the soulmate they never met.

She will not have a chance, because she will be dead.

The waiting is terrible.

Coldblooded.

She is so afraid.

She is so afraid, but if she does not wish to die, neither can she bring herself to regret her bargain. Merlin will die, yes, but Arthur will live.

Merlin can't remember when she stopped thinking of Arthur as an arrogant idiot she wouldn't wish to be seen with in public and started considering him someone she will do this for. But not only he one of her soulmates, he is her destiny. If he dies, he won't be.

She lies terrified on her bed, thinking of her mother, Gaius, and her soulmates, until exhaustion from fear and dread finally takes her.

Merlin blinks open her eyes to find that the dawn light has come and gone—and she can feel every nerve in her body and the world has never looked brighter, and she is alive, she's alive—how is she alive?

Merlin stumbles down the rickety wooden stairs to find Gaius, her utter joy tempered by the thought—the possibility that Arthur, Arthur might be gone…and Gaius is kneeling over a body lying on the cold stone floor.

"Gaius? Gaius, I'm ali—what's that?" she blurts out, a sinking feeling in her chest.

"Merlin, don't—!" he starts, but she's already close enough to see the figure's face.

She lets out a keening wail of despair, collapsing to her knees at the woman's side. "No! Mother—no!" Hunith's faces and arms are covered with terrible boils, and her breath is fading fast. Even through her obvious pain, Hunith smiles when she sees Merlin's face.

"My daughter," she breathes. "My light."

"You're going to be alright," Merlin says, trembling so hard she almost drops her mother's hand. "You'll be fine…"

"Of course," Hunith breathes. "You're such a good daughter. So good to me. I'm so proud of you, Merlin…"

"I'll make you better, I promise, you will be fine," the young warlock insists, but she knows in her heart that not even magic can heal Hunith now.

"So good," her mother says again, and breathes out. She does not breathe back in. Merlin bends over her head, holding her mother's body, shaking, wracked with sobs.

Gaius sits back with a sigh, letting her grieve. Nimueh did not bargain Merlin's life, he thinks, because Merlin is Magic, and cannot be bargained. The sorceress bargained her mother's.

"You knew this would happen! You had me trade my mother's life for Arthur's!" Merlin doesn't care that she's screaming, or that tears have turned her eyes red and painful.

The dragon rears back in annoyance. "You said you would do anything."

"You knew my mother would die, didn't you, and you sent me anyway!"

"I knew the price would be a heavy one, but we need Arthur to live." Kilgarrah says in his gravelly voice, as though that fixes everything.

Merlin wants to scream again. She knows Arthur has to live, thank you! "I'm not one of you!"

Kilgarrah glowers at her with his golden eyes. "We are both creatures of the Old Religion, young warlock. Your destiny is to protect the young Pendragon so that one day, magic will return to the land. Only then will I be freed."

Merlin's eyes are burning worse now, at his admission. "That was all you cared about? I thought you were my friend!"

"We are more than that. We are kin!" the dragon insists.

"My only family was my mother, and you had me murder her! I would have died, I—I would have, I was waiting! I may have been afraid—but I did not regret my choice!" The warlock shouts, the noise echoing around the cavern. She can feel the anger building up inside of her.

Kilgarrah can obviously feel Merlin's absolute rage, and tries to back down a bit. "Her life has not been taken in vain, for we can achieve great things together, you and I."

The pressure building up inside her chest stops for a half a second, and then explodes. "You will never be released!" Pointing at the dragon, she feels a slight vindictive pleasure. "For what you have done, I'll make sure you never see the light!"

Kilgarrah makes a terrible sound, writhing as if with agony. "Merlin!" Flames come streaming towards her, but she holds up one hand, and they divide around her like water for only a moment, and then she is gone.

"Arthur?" Merlin pokes her head tentatively around the door.

The prince is awake, and at his table, eating. He still looks a bit unwell, and will be sore for a while, but will recover, she knows. "Ah, Merlin. Come in."

"I…while you were sick, my mother…" Merlin has to swallow hard, eyes far too bright. They are still red, and a little puffy. "I just discovered…you know Ealdor is so far away, I didn't know, but, um, she…." she can't bring herself to say it, wringing her hands in helplessness.

Arthur seems to understand, though, the cheerful look on his face crumpling. "Oh. Oh, Merlin. I'm so sorry."

"May I have leave for a few days, Sire?" she blurts finally, avoiding what she originally meant to say. "I…there's things in her cottage I'd like to keep, and I'd like to…to bury her, if I might."

The prince is already nodding, agreeing with everything she says.
"Of course, Merlin, as long as you need. Anything I can do, consider it done. Anything at all."

Merlin can barely find her voice. "Thank you, Arthur."

She turns to go, but stops. Going back to Ealdor and burying her mother is Plan B. She intends to find Nimueh and get her mother back. If she can't, she'll kill the sorceress or die trying. Merlin may not get a chance to say goodbye to her first soulmate.

"You should know…you're a great warrior," she says haltingly. "And one day you'll be a great king. I am happy to be your servant until the day I die."

Arthur regards her carefully, eyes glittering strangely in the light. "Sometimes I think I know you, Merlin. Other times…"

"Yeah, well. Just…don't be a prat." She manages an almost-smile, and then she's gone.

"I take it you were unsatisfied with our deal?" Nimueh appears around a pillar as if out of nowhere, smirk pulling at her lips.

"I bid my life for Arthur, not my mother's!" Merlin replies, clenching her hands into fists. The two women begin to circle as though in a duel.

The sorceress laughs. "The Old Religion does not care who lives and who dies, only that the balance of the world is restored. I can do nothing for your mother now, even if I wished."

"It is you that did this, Nimueh, don't even try to deny it!"

"But with my help, Arthur will become King." Nimueh says, trying to cast the conversation onto a different topic.

Merlin's eyes blaze gold. "I will make Arthur King, and you shall not be there to see it! Astrice!" The spell pushes Nimueh back a couple of paces, and ruffles the sorceress's hair. She loses the smirk.

"You are more powerful than I expected," she admits. "But we are both creatures of the Old Religion." The smirk reappears. "You should join me."

"You think I would join forces with such a selfish and cruel magic?" Merlin scoffs, shaking her head. "Never!"

"So be it. Acwele!"

Merlin flies backwards under the weight of Nimueh's spell, a circle of steam arising from where the fireball struck her ribs. Her flesh feels like it is on fire. She groans in pain, glaring up at the other woman.

Nimueh sighs, giving a small smile to show she's not very sorry at all. "Pity. Together, we could have ruled the world." She turns to walk away.

Merlin staggers to her feet with great difficulty, anger evident. Dark clouds start subtly closing in abovehead. "You…should not have killed my mother." She thrusts out one hand. The spell is instinctive—elemental, as Gaius once said to her, and the elements respond to the power that shows in Merlin's eyes, flashing gold.

Nimueh turns, only to throw her head back and scream as the magical lightning arcs through her. One last shriek and she explodes in a flurry of ashes.

Merlin collapses to the ground, panting heavily. She wants to cry, but all the tears her eyes can muster have already fallen. Her mother is gone forever, but so is Nimueh.