NO SLASH, EVER... I'M SERIOUS, GUYS

Disclaimer : Do I sound like I own Merlin? XD this is FANfiction, for crying out loud.
Warning : Set after season four, Reveal fic
May Contain : A band of Floofs, UNICORNS, Terribly written spells, Cliffhangers to annoy the heck out of you, Aithusaaaaa (and Kilgharrah), Catboy!Merlin, King Arthur Pratdragon, the Knights of Camelot, GWAINE, EEEEVIL, Morgana, FLUFFINESS, aaaaangst, and a whole lot of MAGIC~
I'm sorry about anything that may hinder your headcanons!
Thank you to anyone who gives me ideas to mutilate to my sadistic preferences!

Asdfghjkl. Did I die? Indeed, I did... Well, I'm back now. So sorry, really! I just couldn't force this out of myself... and then... it happened XD yay!
So, where were we...? Oh right, I killed Merlin.
Well. That's a shame ._.

Merlin. That was the only coherent thought to be made as Arthur shook and sobbed, clutching his friend's—his best friend's—broken body. Merlin couldn't be dead. Merlin was... Merlin! He was also the all-powerful warlock Emrys, last of the Dragonlords, and King Arthur's manservant. He couldn't be... gone.

Yet as Arthur stared into those dull blue eyes, devoid of any spark, he felt a great weight settle in his chest. The ears and tail, which once never stopped twitching, even in sleep, were depressingly still. The King hugged his friend's head to his chest, ignoring the blood still pouring sluggishly from his shoulder, head, and leg.

And that was how Terrowin and the Druids found him a little later; sobbing and clutching his friend's body. The Druids all closed their eyes and bowed their heads, mourning Emrys' passing. What would become of destiny with one side of the coin gone?

Gilli felt tears collecting in his eyes. He made no move to stop them, staring at the dead warlock. He may have been trying to appear stronger than other people his entire life, but he was crumbling. Merlin was the man who'd showed him the good side of magic. He would have gone mad, evil, and probably killed Uther if it weren't for this single shard of light in a tunnel of endless black.

Alator bowed his head like the Druids and prayed for them.

For Albion.

For Emrys.

"Sire, we... we must go," Terrowin said gently, placing a hand on the King's shoulder.

Arthur didn't move. His tears had long since dried, along with any hope for the future. There was nothing left to be done, so why try?

"Sire..."

Arthur set down his friend's body, but made no move to get up. Those empty blue eyes were all he could see. He was still waiting for them to come back to life, brightening with small specks of gold like they did when Merlin was happy.

"Sire, please..."

Arthur closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He was the King of Camelot; his people looked up to him. He could not give up. He gently brought a hand to Merlin's face, closing his eyes for the last time. At least his friend could be at peace, away from Morgana and the constant threat of her evil. He hoped Merlin was happy, wherever he was. He could finally be with Freya, Will, Lancelot, and Balinor; his love, his friends, and his father. He had obviously loved them... so he'd want to be with them. It was... for the better.

Arthur slowly stood up, never taking his eyes off the fallen warlock.

The great hole within him grew ever so slightly, taking in the last of his hope. All he could do was wish—wish for there to be some hope, any hope, but there was none. All hope was gone as soon as he'd closed his friend's eyes. Reason told him there was nothing he could do, so nothing he did. But if only he'd gone after him... if only he'd done something...

Arthur was no stranger to death. He'd had more than his share of loved ones pass, one of which being his own father. But that pain... all of it combined was nothing compared to this.

A piece of Arthur had died, fluttering away into the dark.

And he felt nothing.

Terrowin and Arthur came to an agreement. The Druids would help to the best of their abilities, setting up defensive borders and helping the injured. A few of the stronger ones would fight in the battle.

But no one's heart was really in it. Merlin; Emrys, the one to bring magic back to the land, was gone. Arthur slowly walked to where they'd left the horses at the clearing, barely even acknowledging the Druids carrying the fallen warlock, or Gilli and Alator walking solemnly behind them.

The King wasn't all there. He quickly hauled himself onto his horse, but every movement just seemed so hard all of a sudden.

So maybe Merlin was gone; he should be fine, right? He's King of Camelot; he's seen countless deaths, and caused more than a few. He'd lost knights; lost friends; lost parents... he should have been used to it by now.

But why did it hurt so much?

The ride back to Camelot was slow and silent. Merlin—no, Merlin's body; that long since bled-out pale creature was no longer Arthur's best friend—had been put on a horse, secured onto the indifferent animal's back. A few Druids, including Terrowin, walked beside them or rode on their own horses. Gilli and Alator, who would have easily been able to use their gifts to already be at the castle, walked somberly in front, clearing the path.

Arthur rode on his horse beside Merlin's. He would have walked—why would he deserve to be carried by a horse because he was tired, while his friend had had to fight so much more?—but he was honestly worried that his legs would fall out beneath him.

You usually at least get a warning when someone dies. They could be sick, they could be injured, or they could be warriors, always risking their lives.

Merlin was not a warrior. He wasn't trained to fight. He wasn't sick. The only hint of anomaly was his feline appendages. He had been injured, but they'd been too late to even witness his last moments.

Merlin had been ripped from their world, alone and bleeding.

It was Gwen, standing on the steps of the castle, awaiting her King, who was the first to realize who the covered figure on the horse was. It took her a moment to process her thoughts, and she frowned in shocked confusion. And then the tears welled up in her warm orbs, and she shook her head in denial. The Queen barely noticed the tears streaming past her cheeks as she took a few hesitant steps forwards.

"Ar-Arthur?" she choked out, searching his face with wide eyes.

Arthur didn't even look at her. He robotically hauled himself off his horse, absently gathering his things and trudging up the stone steps. He sobered and emerged in lucidity for but a second, sparing a broken glance at his crying wife.

Guinevere gasped at his empty gaze, staring after him as he made his way through the huge castle doors. She wanted to look back—but was she strong enough to be able to watch them unload her friend's body? She didn't know if she wanted to follow her King, or go to the crowd below, to make sure it wasn't true...

One glance at Arthur's face had ruined it.

Merlin was gone.

Merlin was far more than a simple manservant. While it was never voiced aloud, it was common knowledge that a lot of people cared very much about him. He was a great man.

But few had ever seen his greatness at his fullest.

And so many never would.

The Queen of Camelot ignored everything around her and sank to her knees on the steps, shaking. She buried her face in her hands, unable to look away as she stared through a small slit between her fingers at what was left of the kind boy that had come to Camelot all those years ago, with bright, innocent eyes, and an infectious smile.

She would never see that smile again.

Gaius was getting worried.

His ward, which he felt was his own son, had left this world. He was devastated, to say the least, but he was still a physician, and it was his work to worry about others. The King was raising anxiety. He hadn't eaten at all, as far as he knew, in the last three days since they'd returned. Arthur had remained locked in his room, not letting anyone in, and not coming out.

But as saddened and concerned the old man was, he had another emotion mixing into his thoughts; one he couldn't quite ignore.

Gaius had been born long before Arthur. He'd known and lost just as many people as the King, if not more.

But the physician also had one thing besides years that Arthur probably would never possess.

Gaius had magic.

And Gaius knew that when a magic person dies, the spark of magic within them dies as well, but it ofttimes takes longer, since magic is everywhere, and very hard to extinguish. Gaius had felt many of his friends die, and had examined many corpses. Those of sorcerers always had a tiny spark of magic within them, never to fade and to follow their journey in death to the end of time. It was very hard to feel that spark; since it was so tiny, but the old man had done it so many times that it took little more than a thought.

Gaius had painstakingly examined his ward's body, and searched for the spark, just to officially determine his state of living...

... Only the spark was gone.

There was not a trace of magic left within the warlock's body.

And this caused Gaius to wonder; if Merlin's body was dead, yet his magic was absent, then where was it?

It took Arthur another couple of days to come to terms with his loss.

It happened in the physician's chambers, as he had—not for the first time—gone to search for his manservant, only to realize that Merlin wasn't kept there as Gaius' ward anymore.

The old man was filtering through a worn old tome, sat at his table. He was trying to keep his indifferently wise demeanor, but it was crumbling. It was visible in the hunched posture and the weary eyes; open doors to the grief inside. Maybe Merlin's magic had left because he was Emrys; his magic behaved differently. Either way, dead was dead. Gaius kidded himself by believing that there was still hope.

Yet Merlin had been dead for five days, and his body was still in the exact same state as when it had been found. He wasn't being eaten by bugs, and he wasn't rotting. Gaius kept him on an examination table, but he hid him under several sheets. The warlock probably should have been prepared for cremation days ago, but... something told Gaius to wait.

The physician had not told Arthur, and didn't plan to, until the younger man woke up from whatever state of befuddled denial he had planted himself into, and faced his duties as King once again.

Gaius had been expecting the blond to burst through the doors like he had before, searching for something he couldn't find, so the old man was surprised when the door slowly opened to reveal none other than Arthur, looking absolutely terrible for all he was worth, with his shirt hanging limply off his shoulders, and his hair sticking up at odd angles, as if he spent his time running his hands through it in frustration. He probably did.

But what really caught Gaius' attention, ignoring every instinct of a physician and disregarding the sorry state the man was in, were the King's eyes.

They glistened with tears.

Gaius was only a little ashamed at how relieved he was to see that. Arthur had been bottling everything up for too long; not much longer, and he'd go completely and utterly mad.

The old man quickly guided the man he'd helped raise onto a bench so he could sit down. Gaius placed himself beside him, a rough yet gentle hand on the too-thin shoulder.

Arthur took many minutes to raise his bloodshot eyes to the physician's.

"He's gone, isn't he?" the small voice inquired, surprisingly clearly.

Gaius said nothing.

And that was all it took.

Arthur collapsed into Gaius' waiting arms, weeping shamelessly for all he was worth, mourning his best friend. The old man wordlessly held him, muttering sweet nothings into his blond hair, all of his own tears long since dried.

The King shook, gasping for breath, endless streams of water making his eyelids overflow. "H-he was t-too y-y-young, Gaius," he choked out, trembling even harder at the simple sentence.

"Hush now, Arthur," Gaius whispered.

"H-he was young-ger th-than m-m-me..."

Gaius rubbed the younger man's back in a weak attempt of comfort.

After numerous minutes that felt like days, Arthur seemed to compose himself a little. He managed to force out a few deep breaths, detaching himself from the old man's embrace. His eyes still stung, but he no longer felt able to produce tears. A lot of people said you were meant to feel better after a good cry, but... Arthur still hurt. And that pain didn't seem even slightly close to fading.

"Gaius," he whispered weakly, looking the physician in the eyes with hopeless, bloodshot, blue eyes, "Why him?"

There it was; the unanswerable question. Gaius pulled him back into the hug. "Merlin knew the risks of his destiny, Arthur. Every great person comes across their demons, and will always fight them, until they encounter the last one. Thousands before him have done the same."

"But... it's not fair..." Arthur didn't care at this point if he sounded like a petulant child. It wasn't fair. Merlin was meant to serve him to the very end, to be his friend to the very end. Life was too fragile.

Gaius sighed, carding his fingers through the grieving royal's hair. "I know it isn't, my boy." Gaius would usually never speak to the King in such a familiar manner, but Arthur seemed to be in need of a paternal figure at the moment. "Not many things are."

"Gaius, I..." Arthur faltered.

The old man frowned. There was something different to the young King's voice. "What is it, Arthur?"

Arthur stared up into his weathered face, taking a deep breath. "Gaius, I... I didn't even get to... I didn't even get to say goodbye..."

"Oh, Arthur," the old physician murmured, wrapping his arms around the sobbing young man once more.

He didn't even bother trying to reassure him.

There was no point.

Merlin was floating. The atmosphere was soft and warm, with a soothing feeling to it.

And he wasn't quite dead, like everyone thought.

Merlin and the Keeper of the Forest had formulated a plan. The plan was that if Merlin was gravely injured or incapacitated, the Keeper of the Forest would take the last of his life force—therefore "killing" him—and spread it into the trees. This way, even if Merlin's body died, his mind would live on.

Merlin was meant to travel with his mind to Morgana, and put her in a similar state of "death" to contact with her mind, where he would either make peace with her, by showing her all the pain she was causing, or destroy her once and for all. Either way, it wouldn't be easy.

Unfortunately, Morgana had used Aithusa as a protector, so Merlin had to bring her out of the darkness before even getting close to the witch. The Keeper of the Forest pulled out Aithusa's spirit and it got absorbed into the trees and plants, and she and Merlin could make contact.

Leda, unfortunately, the poor raccoon, was too far gone.

And now Merlin had to erase the madness in his dragon's eyes, and bring her back to reality.

The light around him shone through his eyelids, turning them red; enticing him.

Merlin opened his eyes.

... What?

lol I did say I'd explain everything, didn't I?
Well, I did try... I'm horrible at pulling others onto my wavelength XD sorry!

Yay for choppy paragraphs again! I'll try to stop, I promise...

Ahahaahaha... I really can't do emotions. I can relate to Arthur, mostly, but I have this thing that makes me unable to express myself.
It's called teenage introvertedness.

It is so severe.

Why can't I write angst how I want to? ._. I'm just making people cry... no depth, at all. I'm sorry. I'm rather ashamed.
I basically just made Arthur cry—I mean onions! Someone was chopping onions.
In his chambers.
They got through the locked door.

In other news, happy birthday to me on the 18th! I'll be fourteen lol... (and then I can stop being that strange kid at the computer XD I'll be older, so people will be more compliant to the idiocies I shall perform. In my opinion. I hope.)

DEAR VANESSA OF ANONYMOUS REVIEWING : Thank you for pointing out my mistake lol... I hope I fixed it well XD
But of course, if only you'd logged in, or had an account, you'd probably... be reading this right now... XD
And, if ever you do read this, then... the world happens in my head. My brain has imploded :D

The mistake was that I forgot about Will when Arthur was thinking about all the dead people that Merlin loved that he would (hypothetically) be joining.
lol I feel insensitive.
But I fixed it! Mostly! I don't know why I'm telling you all this!

Please review!