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Merlin sat at the Lake for a long time, petrified.
Arthur couldn't be gone. They were two sides of the same coin. Literal soulmates.
Who was Merlin without Arthur?
He brought a shaking hand to his mouth. An ugly noise escaped him, somewhat like a sob.
Why was it always him? Why did destiny have to give him the most wonderful man in creation just to take it all away in a span of mere years?
Well, destiny could go fuck itself. He had enough of it.
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away, but without success.
It was his fault, he realized. He had known their destiny. Kilgarrah had told him and he hadn't listened.
If he had stopped Morgana sooner, if he hadn't rescued Mordred, Arthur would still be sitting next to him, calling him an idiot and ruffling his hair and pretending they weren't as close to one another as they were.
More sobs shook his body as the tears flowed over his face, dripping onto his hands and on the ground.
He would never see him laugh again or brood over papers for hours or train with their friends or shoot him helpless glances during seemingly never-ending council meetings.
He would never look at Merlin again, in that particular way that was reserved only for Merlin.
He didn't know how long he sat there.
Immortal, he recalled. He was immortal. Arthur wouldn't be the last he would lose. There would be Gaius and his mother. And Gwaine and Leon and Percival. And Gwen.
Oh gods, how was he going to face Gwen? Arthur had been her husband and everything was Merlin's fault.
She would hate him.
No, she wouldn't, he chastised himself. How could you even think that about her?
No one would ever blame him.
That was alright, Merlin decided. He blamed himself enough for all of them.
Arthur would return, Kilgarrah had said. When? In ten years? A hundred? A thousand? How was he supposed to live through that without anyone? Without Arthur.
He laid down on the ground, suddenly exhausted. The tears ran over his nose and dropped onto the grass. He briefly wondered if he'd ever stop crying.
-//-
He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes it was morning and Percival was sitting beside him, a grim expression on his face.
"Merlin?" His voice was hoarse.
He didn't reply, but he sat up, wincing. His head hurt and his throat was dry.
"Merlin. I'm so sorry."
"Me too," he whispered. He looked out across the lake. It seemed so peaceful. Merlin felt nauseous.
"I should tell you, that ..." Percival paused. Looking at his hands and at Merlin and then out to the lake as well. His voice wavered ever so slightly when he told him, "Gwaine didn't make it."
Merlin thought he couldn't feel any worse. He was wrong.
"Morgana tortured him."
"She's dead. I killed her."
Innocent, clumsy servant boy Merlin had just confessed to killing a powerful, evil sorceress of the Old Religion.
Perhaps they were both too grief-stricken to fully register that fact, because Percival just nodded gravely. "Will you come back with me?"
Merlin opened his mouth, then closed it again. What was there for him now? A castle without its king. Merlin without Arthur.
Gaius would probably be fine without him. And he didn't want to be the one to tell Gwen.
"No."
Percival stood up.
"Percy?"
The knight stopped.
"Tell them I'm coming back. Not yet, but I will come back. And ask Gaius ... ask him about the prophecy. Tell him to tell you everything. You and Gwen and Leon and ..." There was no one else. "You deserve to know."
Percival frowned, but didn't say anything. He nodded his goodbye and left.
Merlin was alone.
-//-
He visited his mother first.
Hunith opened the door, took one look at him and pulled him into a hug.
Merlin cried again. He didn't think he knew how to stop.
Merlin said nothing the whole evening, just let himself be comforted by his mother's kindness. He fell asleep in her arms as if he was still a child.
In the morning, he felt numb.
Everything seemed too much and not enough at the same time and he didn't know how to handle it.
Hunith had talked at him during breakfast.
One of the girls had left town to marry a boy she had met at the market. Their neighbours had had a fourth child. The taxes had been raised, but nobody had attacked when they weren't able to pay.
Oblivious to why he was here, Hunith asked about Arthur.
His spoon clattered on the table.
"Merlin? Is that why you're here? Did he ... find out?"
Beside himself, Merlin nodded.
He took a rattling breath.
"But that's not ... Gods, Mum. He's ... gone. He's ..." A tear rolled down his cheek.
"Arthur's dead."