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Merlin had expected the spell before Mordred’s eyes glowed gold. He held out a hand, fingers splayed and blocked it before it could reach Arthur.
But what he hadn’t expected, was the thrust of a sword when his attention was on the spell. It sliced clean through his thin clothes, and Merlin staggered back a step. Mordred pulled the sword back out, looking down in disbelief as blood dripped from the blade. A loud, heartbreaking scream sounded behind Merlin, and Arthur ran forward to cut Mordred down where he stood.
Strength was slowly leaving him, and Merlin sank to his knees in sync with Mordred. For a moment, matching blue eyes stared into each other, aged beyond their years by grief and war, and a voice rang through Merlin’s mind for one last time.
‘I’m sorry, Emrys.’
Mordred fell on his side into the dirt, all life drained from his eyes and leaving them empty. The image was interrupted by a flurry of movement, something holding Merlin’s face and forcing him to focus. Arthur. Of course. His king was standing, no, kneeling with Merlin and cradling his face in his hands.
“Merlin! Merlin, do you hear me? Focus!” he said frantically.
“Arthur.” He answered, surprised at how weak his voice sounded. Something wasn’t right. Merlin looked down to where his hand was pressing into his side, and when he moved it it was covered in red. Arthur took his hand and pressed it back onto the wound, his own hand joining it.
“Merlin, you useless idiot, heal yourself!” Arthur commanded.
“I can’t.” He rasped out.
“Stop being stupid Merlin, I know you have magic, use it to heal yourself!”
“No, Arthur, I can’t. The blade was forged in dragon’s breath. It’s the only thing that can kill me.” Merlin had felt it the second the sword pierced his skin; it had burned, and his magic instantly shied away from the wound.
His body felt even heavier now, and Arthur’s arms caught him when he tipped forward. It felt warm and safe to be in Arthur’s embrace. They should’ve done this more.
“Merlin? Merlin, stay awake.” His eyes blinked open, but he couldn’t remember having closed them. Merlin was met with the grey sky, which must mean he was lying down now. They were still at Camlann, and Arthur was looking down on him. Merlin realized his head was resting on Arthur’s lap and frowned at the worried expression on his king’s face.
“Don’t worry, Arthur. The soldiers are gone. You’re safe now.”
“Merlin, it – it won’t stop bleeding. Why won’t it stop bleeding?” Right. Mordred’s blade.
“It is as it’s supposed to be Arthur. It’s always been my destiny to protect you.”
“But what does it matter if you can’t protect yourself? Why have all that magic and not use it to shield yourself, Merlin?” Arthur ranted angrily.
“I’m sorry about the magic Arthur, about lying to you. I was born with it and I promise, I only ever used it for you, for Camelot.”
“I don’t care, Merlin! I know you’re loyal to a fault, but this time I – ” his voice broke and Arthur took a breath before continuing. “This time I don’t know how to save you.”
“You can’t save me, Arthur. I’m dying.”
“Don’t say that!” Arthur’s eyes had been focused on their hands at Merlin’s side, but now they looked up into his friend’s eyes.
“It’s true, and it’s alright.” Merlin smiled for the first time in a long time. “You were my destiny, and I can move on in peace knowing that you live on.”
“And how am I supposed to live on without you? I can’t do any of it without you, Merlin.” Tears were gathering in Arthur’s eyes and Merlin hated to see him hurt.
“I was never that good of a servant.” He joked.
Arthur let out a surprised laugh, but his smile was anything but joyful. “And yet you were the best one I’ve ever had, not to mention the most loyal man I’ve ever met.” Arthur regretted ever taking Merlin for granted, never telling him what he truly meant. “I never would’ve been able to become king without you. Never been able to get through a full day if you weren’t by my side, offering support.”
“It’s been my privilege, sire.” Merlin smiled, and tears were falling silently down Arthur’s cheeks, creating streaks through the mud and the grime. “Could you do me a favor?”
“Anything.” Arthur whispered, not trusting his voice.
“Take care of Gaius for me, will you? And my mum. I fear she might tear down the gates of Avalon just to scold me for getting stabbed.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her, she’s a force to be reckoned with.” Arthur agreed. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”
Merlin nodded. “Thank you. And don’t forget to take care of yourself too, you prat. Gwen is a great queen, but even she would struggle to handle you at your worst.”
Merlin meant it as a joke, but Arthur felt guilty for the truth. “But you always could. No matter what I threw at you, sometimes literally, you always knew what to say to make it alright. And what did I give you in return? Insults and chores.”
“You gave me a home, Arthur.” Merlin reached out to wipe away Arthur’s tears with his thumb. “You gave me a family, and a place to feel safe.”
“Only you could feel safe in a land where your mere existence is punishable by death.”
“What can I say, I liked the excitement.” Arthur couldn’t help but smile and laugh at that, and Merlin laughed with him. The laugh quickly evolved into coughs, however, and Merlin tasted blood on his lips. He quickly tried to wipe it away, but judging by the look on Arthur’s face, he had already seen.
“I might be a king, but I’ve never felt more like a coward.” Arthur closed his eyes at the fresh tears forming in his eyes. “There are so many things I wish to tell you, and now I’ve run out of time.”
“Then tell me the most important thing. One last gift before I leave.”
Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, a sob trying to force itself out. “One last thing then, something I’ve never told you before.”
Arthur laned down slowly, putting one hand on the side of Merlin’s face. He looked into his eyes, seeking any sign of hesitation, and then closed the distance between them when he found none. Their lips met in a tender kiss, lips moving slowly together before breaking apart. Arthur rested his head against Merlin’s forehead.
“I love you.”
Merlin looked up in surprise, shedding his first tears when he processed the words. He put a hand on Arthur’s neck and pulled him in with the last of his strength, lips crashing together in a heated rhythm of desperation and longing. Tears and blood mingled together in the kiss, but neither party cared. When they finally broke apart with heavy breathing, they let their tears flow freely.
“I love you too, you prat.”
Arthur laughed wistfully and pressed his eyes closed while drawing in a deep breath, committing Merlin’s scent to memory. He exhaled and opened his eyes, only to feel Merlin’s hand slip from his neck. Arthur caught it just in time and sought out Merlin’s eyes, only to find them staring blankly back at him.
“No, no, no, no. Merlin? Merlin!” Arthur shook him by the shoulders, but the body was limp in his arms.
“Don’t leave me damn it, not now.” He scooped up the body into his arms, holding it tight.
“Please, come back. Please.”
But there was no one there to hear the kings pleads or comfort him as sobs racked his body. No one to see him cry until he ran out of tears, or scream himself hoarse from the pain in his chest.
With his final breaths, the warlock had ordered his magic to protect his king, and so the next time Morgana attacked them she would be struck back and killed by her own spells.
It took some time before anyone found them. The court physician and a handful of knights wandered among the bodies looking for survivors when they came upon their king. When Gaius saw who it was laying lifeless in Arthur’s embrace, the old man broke down in tears and calls for the boy he’d come to think of as his own.
And long after their return, long after the burial boat was built and magic legalized, the king would mourn. He didn’t mourn as you would a servant, a knight, or even a friend. Instead, his grief was for someone who held a piece of his soul. Someone you couldn’t live without and felt their absence in every step, every shadow and every heartbeat.
But he also lived on for the moments when he could feel his presence. In the early morning hours when the sun peaked over the trees, when you heard the first birdsong of the year, or every time a fresh-faced sorcerer came stumbling through the gates looking to start a new life.
The king found comfort in knowing they’d meet again one day, that they’d reunite on the shores of Avalon and never be parted again.
His friend. His warlock. His soulmate.
His idiot. His love.
His Merlin.