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Merlin would have done anything for his king.
So when the horses reared up, sending both Arthur and Merlin to the ground, his only instinct was to get to his feet as quickly as possible and get to his king. He ran and stumbled and fell and ran again, all the while watching Morgana smiling victoriously. Arthur’s hand automatically reached for his sword, even though he knew he had no chance against the high priestess.
The blow of magic Morgana sent his way was strong, forcing its way though the air and flying to fulfil its task dangerously fast.
Time could have stopped then. Merlin would never have noticed for his only concern was Arthur.
“Arthur!”
He knew this time would come, in the end. He was ready. Because Merlin would have done anything for his king.
Getting in the way between his king and the lethal surge of magic, he willed all of his own magic to leave his body and make him vulnerable, and sent it flying towards Morgana with all the strength he had left.
Horror. Loyalty. Resolution.
“Merlin!”
What he wasn’t prepared for was the pain. His eyes closed for a moment, a cry escaping his mouth as he felt his insides tearing apart. He heard a dreadful scream and he wondered for the tiniest of moments if it was Morgana, feeling the same pain as her body slowly burned inside out.
When he opened his eyes to look at Arthur, to know he was safe, he realised he was no longer standing up on his legs. The king was clutching his shoulders, pressing his broken frame to his body.
“Merlin, no.”
He smiled when Arthur’s face came into full focus, when everything else was just a blur. The king’s face and neck were painted with blood, but he smiled nevertheless, because it wasn’t Arthur’s blood. No. Arthur was safe.
“No. No. Merlin. Merlin!”
Despair. Hatred.
“Merlin! Look at me! Look at me!”
They were lying on the ground now as the king collapsed, his chest was heaving with frantic breaths and his hands were stroking Merlin’s hair again and again. When he dared to look at the warlock’s ragged body, he let out gasps of panic.
“Y-You ar-”
“Sh, don’t talk.”
“You’re safe,” Merlin smiled. And he was glad.
“You bloody idiot,” the king whispered, broken.
“Am I dying?” the warlock croaked, his eyelids suddenly too heavy.
“No. No. Don’t you dare, Merlin,” Arthur muttered through gritted teeth. “You hear me? You’re not gonna die on me. You’re not gonna die.”
''I... never do as I'm told. Remember?'' Merlin opened his eyes again. When he managed to lift his hand to rest it on Arthur’s cheek, he stroked away the hot tears lingering there. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he coughed.
“I don’t care. I don’t care, you hear me? I want you to stay alive, that’s all I want. Stay with me.”
When Arthur felt Merlin’s hand slipping away from his face, he began crying loudly, holding Merlin’s palm in a strong grip to keep it pressed to his cheek.
“You can’t leave me.
Please.
Merlin.
Please."
The last thing Merlin felt were Arthur’s shaky wet lips signing their goodbye on his mouth, the last thing he heard, a broken : "I-"