Author's Note:

Hey, I promised you this one quickly, so here it is.

The title of this chapter is a song title (We have had the time of our lives, Tyrone Wells) it's worth checking out, there's also a few Merlin videos on youtube using this song which are amazing, so after you've read this get on there.

I would love some more reviews, I love reading them and it's quite disheartening if you post a chapter and it doesn't get reviewed, even if it's constructive criticism I won't mind in fact it would be great, again please tell me if I switch between tenses.

Please, Review/Favorite/Follow Thank You, if you've done any of that so far, it means a lot :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter

Chapter 3: We have had the time of our lives

"Thank you"

His eyes rolled up, his expression vacant; his lips were flecked with white, his skin as pale as a dead man.

"Arthur? No. Arthur? Arthur!" Merlin shouted the last word; he couldn't lose him, not after all this time!

Just for a moment Arthur's lids rolled up, and in that moment relief swelled within him, he could still do this, he could still save him.

"Stay with me, Arthur." but Arthur's eyes, they were closing, "No." Merlin could almost feel the last breath leave his friend's lips. Merlin tried pulling him to the lake, tried so hard, but Arthur was too heavy. Stopping, he put an arm round his friend, and gave out an exhausted sob. "Arthur!" There was no hope, none….Unless.

"O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes." Heaving, Merlin put his forehead against Arthur's, and rested there until he heard the beat of giant wings.

His muscles burned, but still he found the strength that seemed to come from nowhere to pull his friend towards the dishevelled, little rowing boat that bobbed up and down at the shore.

"Merlin," the dragon's voice emanated from inside its throat, and though through it was strained Merlin could hear true pity in it. "There is nothing you can do."

Merlin looked up at the great beast; Kilgharrah looked tired, more tired than Merlin had ever seen him before; he wished there could have been another choice then to send for him.

"I failed?" Merlin could feel the lump in his throat.

"No young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building has come to pass."

Merlin roared in agony, pulling his friend up to his full height.

"I can't lose him! He's my friend!" Merlin couldn't believe it, Arthur couldn't be dead! He couldn't!

"Though no man, no matter how great can know his destiny. Some lives have been foretold Merlin."

Merlin lowered his head to stare down at his friend; the dragon couldn't be telling the truth, they were two sides of a coin; that was what Kilgharrah had said, and Merlin couldn't imagine what a broken coin looked like.

"Arthur is not just a king," The dragon's voice rung through his ears.

"He is the once and future king." Merlin had heard that line before, but only now did it make sense. 'The once and future king'

"Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again." The dragon paused

"It has been a privilege to have known you young warlock, the story we have been a part of, will live long in the minds of men."

And with that the dragon flew away, leaving Merlin alone, all alone. He took one last look at the huge form that flew in the sky, knowing it would be his last, and then pulled his attention back to Arthur.

So that was it. No more chances, not any longer. Merlin laid his friend on the floor, feeling as though his heart was bleeding. How many people had he lost now? All the people that he had most cared about all of which had passed; apart from his mother; apart from Gaius. Maybe it would be better if he didn't see the two again, he was, and always had been a magnet for trouble. He'd always been the bad luck charm, which the people he'd loved could have done without.

With a sniff Merlin picked the sword off the ground, he raised it up so that the point was level with his brow. His eyes surveyed every part of it, remembering the time when he had cast it in dragon's fire, remembering all that it had done, remembering all that he had done, all over now.

Slowly, he tested its weight, and for one last time read the inscription, then raised it high above his head and tossed it towards the vast waters.

He watched as the sword, driven by his own strength, summersaulted through the air, and as it fell, a hand, born from the lake rose up and caught it. The lady of the lake's muscles tightened at the weight of the sword, but she held firm, just for a few seconds, keeping it there, as if to say 'I understand' before lowering her arm, keeping the sword completely straight, until they both were fully submerged in subtle waters of Avalon's boundless pool.

Arthur lay; his face even whiter than before, in the base of the little rowing boat. Merlin put his hand on his friend's brow, somehow half expecting him to sit up suddenly and start ordering Merlin around. No. That would never happen again, his king was gone. Arthur was gone.

At that, Merlin felt something uncontrollable well up inside him, he whimpered slightly, breath coming fast, he couldn't cry, not yet, and yet he couldn't stop.

He looked across the lake, still shaking, still half crying; his hands drifting slightly above the boat.

"On slipa yarest," he breathed, barely able to get the spell out. His cheeks were wet now, wet from half tears.

At the spell, the boat swiftly headed for the middle of the Lake of Avalon and that was when he started crying so hard he couldn't stop, he shook, great sobs emitting from all his being, and he sat down heavily burying his face in his hands.

Author's Note: Sorry, if that was depressing, I found it quite depressing to write, but I thought it had to be done.