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Merlin knew that they wouldn't make it to lake Avalon at the pace they were going. He'd known it the moment Morgana had scared away the horses. Arthur was loosing contiousness far more often now and at this point, Merlin was all but dragging him through what was left of the forest in hopes that they could make it somewhat closer, he was half hoping that his magic and the lakes could work together to save his king.
Arthur's knees buckle as they get into the middle of an open field, causing Merlin to go down with him as neither had been expecting it. His breathing coming out as grunts and quiet wheezing as he tried to rest comfortably for a few seconds "hold me? Please?" He hears Arthur whisper and his heart breaks at how vulnerable and scared he sounds, so without second thought and being as careful as he can, Merlin maneuvers his friend until he's in his lap with his head resting against his shoulder.
Merlin could tell his king was giving up, was too tired to continue on, but he wasn't about to give up on him, not after all they'd been through together! So pretending to get himself comfortable and acting as if he's wrapping his arms even further around his friend, Merlin gently placed a hand where he knew his stab wound to be, causing Arthur to groan quietly when he puts just a little too much pressure onto it "sorry" he whispers, tightening his arms slightly so his king was even closer to him than before.
Once Arthur had settled again, Merlin lets his eyes drift closed and his magic go, just enough that he can feel what's going on around him. It eventually settled on Arthur's wound, causing him to think about what he was going to do for a few seconds, before his resolve tightens again and he takes a deep breath. He didn't actually know if his idea would work, but damn it he had to try! He lets his magic go completely as he thinks about what he wants to do, he imagines Arthur's stab wound on himself and lets his magic do the rest.
He feels the way the wound and the shard of sword resist for several long seconds, causing both him and his magic to become slightly more desperate, before a pain even worse than a serket sting overcomes him. It takes his breath away as a gasp is all but punched out of him and his entire body arches up, trying to get away from it, his strength is already weakening to a point that it scares the fuck out of him, but it was done. He had taken Arthur's injuries as his own.
There's a few seconds of silence as he accepts his fate and Arthur tries to figure out what's just happened, but then the king is on his knees, his hands hovering just above Merlin as if wanting to touch him but at the same time too scared to hurt him or make him any worse "you idiot! What did you do?!" His king asks frantically as he feels his strength coming back far too quickly to be normal.
Merlin opens his eyes and smiles as best as he can at him, causing Arthur to shake his head just as frantically as he had spoken just seconds before "come on, Merlin, we can get there." He says, looking down towards lake Avalon "it's right there, do you see it?" He asks, lifting Merlin up so that now he's against the kings chest.
Merlin lets out a noise somewhere between an agreement and a groan of pain. He now understood why Arthur's strength had been flagging so much, but he lets his king lift him and pull him in the direction they had been going all along, as best as he can with his ever growing strength, whilst Merlin's dwindled rapidly.
They have to stop a few times, as Merlin's pain gets too much and Arthur is still gathering his strength "cmon, dollophead, talk to me" Arthur begs at one point, because Merlin is never this quiet or still, even when he's sleeping! The warlock lets out a quiet huff of amusement "do you ever stop bossing me about?" He whispers, eyes lighting up slightly at the smile that appears on Arthur's face when he hears his voice again.
He gets an amused head shake back in response "you still can't talk to me like that, idiot" he says as he continues trudging forwards, though still no where near their destination. With every step Arthur takes, Merlin can feel the way his magic is starting to fade even as it fights to keep him alive long enough to get to the lake, he knows he doesn't have long left, but he can't help but pretend that Arthur is merely taking him back to Camelot, back to Gaius and his injury isn't as bad as it actually is.
They'd done this before, he and Arthur, after one or both of them have been injured. But as much as he wished he could pretend that this was just one of those times, the pain that ran through him with each and every step, his breathing that had become much too shallow and was more of a constant wheeze than an actual breath at this point and the strength that continued to drain out of him at a truly alarming speed, all told him that he wasn't going to make it home this time.
He doesn't remember most of their journey, half due to being in and out of consciousness and the other half due to the fact that the pain was far too much to distract himself from. But Arthur had made it to those all too familiar trees that he had passed through many a time when coming to visit and remember Freya. He feels his king gently set him down, before lightly tapping his cheek "wake up, clotpole. We made it" he hears Arthur say in a quiet, yet anxious tone that he's never heard from him before, and so he opens his bleary eyes and gives his friend a small lopsided smile.
He knew he didn't have long now, his magic barely stirring at this point. So he whispers "it's been an honour, sire" as his blinks becoming longer and his breathing began to falter and slow, his eyes meet Arthur's just as the last of his strength leaves him "don't be a dollophead" he says with the last of his breath.
He doesn't get to hear the anguished cry that rips its way out of Arthur as his eyes drift closed for the final time, doesn't feel the way his king shakes him and begs for him to wake up. Nor does he get to witness the reactions of his family and friends when the king stumbled back home with his best friend and protector limp in his arms. He never gets to hear Arthur call him courageous, brave and wise beyond his years, nor does he get to see Camelots truly beautiful golden age, but his king is alive and that's all he could ever hope for.