Be Careful What You Wish For

by VikingSong

Part 1: In which Merlin learns to "be careful what you wish for." Part 2: In which Arthur makes a wish, too. (A slightly morbid and hopefully humorous pair of triple-drabbles (3 scenes each, 100 words per scene). Perceived (not actual) character death; invisibility; sarcasm!; angst with a happy ending; no pairings.)

2. Chapter 2

A/N: A very belated conclusion…another 3 scenes, 100 words each. I wrote Part 1 *checks calendar* exactly 9 years, 6 months, and 1 day ago and genuinely believed it was complete. Until today.

(Part 2 fills Merlin Bingo 2024 square M3 - "Writing Format: Drabble")

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The hallucinations began one week after Merlin's death.

Arthur himself was in a fight to the death when he heard it.

"Arthur, duck!"

He didn't question his late manservant's voice. Arthur dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the downward arc of the first bandit's sword. The second bandit's arrow hurtled through the space Arthur had just vacated, piercing the first bandit's second-rate breastplate.

After Arthur dispatched the ninth and final bandit, he scanned the clearing. There was no one there except Sirs Leon and Bertrand: disheveled, disgruntled, and otherwise unharmed.

"My lord, we should return to the castle at once."

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Ten days after Merlin's execution, the auditory hallucination returned. Once again, Arthur was in a fight to the death, albeit this time in a slaver's blood-stained fight pit rather than amidst a bandit attack.

"Arthur, watch out! He has a dagger!"

Arthur twisted out of range just as the mercenary whipped a dagger seemingly from thin air and slashed. The curved blade missed Arthur's neck by barely a hand's breadth.

As he and the mercenary circled one another, Arthur shook his head to clear it. Mourn the dead later, he told himself firmly. Right now, focus on not joining them.

---

Two weeks after Merlin's execution, Arthur sat alone in his chambers. Nothing was missing from his plate. Irked, he reached for his goblet.

"It's poisoned!"

Arthur's well-honed reflexes saved his tunic from wine stains. He slammed the goblet down. "If this is some twisted prank—"

The voice huffed. "Look at it."

The sloshed liquid fizzed as it corroded the tabletop.

"The sommelier's the assassin. You're welcome."

"Merlin—" What could he possibly say to Merlin's ghost? 'I'm sorry'? 'I tried to stop him'? "I wish you weren't dead."

"Be careful what you wish for," Merlin replied, materializing with an impish grin.

~Fin.~
~(for real this time)~