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Merlin is no stranger to pain.
He is no stranger to losing the ones he loves. He lost Freya, his father, Lancelot, and countless others. It was beginning to feel just like another part of his life.
And then he lost his love, his heart, his world.
As Arthur lay in the boat, his skin cold and chest still, Merlin couldn’t hold back his sobs as he placed his hand on Arthur’s head, desperately searching with his magic for any sign of life he knew he wouldn’t find.
He looked to the sky, to the gods, to anyone who was watching, and silently cursed them out for taking his king away from him. He moved his hand from Arthur’s head to his hands, holding them one last time.
After a few tries, he muttered the spell that allowed the boat to sail into the middle of the lake. Memories flooded his mind as he watched Arthur’s body float away from him.
Their first meeting, his cocky smile and annoyingly handsome face.
When Merlin took the poison for him, knowing right then and there he would do anything to keep Arthur safe.
All their years of jest and banter. The stolen smiles from across the room. The hunting trips. The bad times and the good.
Greif took control and Merlin sank to his knees. Cold water seeped into his trousers but he could hardly even feel it. He watched Arthur get farther and farther away until he could barely see him at all.
And then he just stayed there. He had no will to get up, to return to Camelot. He could not leave the side of his master, of his best friend, even in death.
The warlock didn’t know how long he sat there, kneeling in the frigid water, but eventually he felt his strength start to wane from lack of nutrients. His body no longer supported him and he fell onto his back, creating a quiet splash in the otherwise silent environment.
The days went on, the sun rising and falling as the weather changed. Merlin waited for death, waiting to rejoin his love in the afterlife.
His skin grew frosted and stiff and his hair was like ice in the cold nights. When it snowed his body screamed as frostbite covered him and when the sun beat down it was like being on a pyre.
Eventually he would die.
Eventually he would see Arthur once more.
Time grew meaningless as it stretched on constantly. Distantly, from somewhere far back in his mind, he watched the seasons change and the years go past.
He never moved.
He wasn’t even sure if he could anymore.
Slowly, the natural world began to take him back. Vines grew up and around his limbs and neck and moss grew on his clothes. Insects crawled along his skin, nibbling at the flesh where they could.
He never swatted them away; never felt the pain when one would bite.
Once, a hurricane hit. Merlin could feel his body get ravaged by the storm, tearing at him and ripping him apart. As a tree fell on top of him, everything went black and for the first time since he said goodbye to his heart, he smiled.
He woke up sometime later, in the same spot he was in before. The tree was gone, as were any injuries he had sustained. All that was left was the same plant growth as before and the familiar tickle of his magic roaring to life.
He felt something new, no longer nature claiming him or the weather laying waste to him, but his own magic carefully cocooning its way around his body. He felt with a bit of awe as his fingers tingled, turning grey at the tips.
The grey spread up his arms and the warlock could feel it doing the same around his legs.
As his body turned to stone, his magic protecting him from the years he would spend waiting for Arthur, he let out a sigh of relief.
___
To awake with water in your lungs is never a pleasant feeling.
Arthur gasped and immediately choked as no air reached him, only freezing water. Desperately he paddled in the direction he could only assume was up, praying he would make it to the surface.
He did. He launched out of the water, taking gulping breaths of warm spring air as he treaded in place.
What the hell happened? Arthur thought, coughing and blinking rapidly to adjust to the new light around him. He spotted the shore, not twenty feet from where he was and began swimming for it.
He collapsed onto the beach, his body sore and his lungs aching. His armor was drenched and heavy, making the swim even more challenging.
With a huff, he unlatched his chest plate and threw it off until he was left in just his red undershirt. He wished Merlin was here so he could have helped him-
Memories flooded his mind so fast he almost fell over.
The battle. Mordred. Getting stabbed. Learning of Merlin’s magic.
Dying.
He pressed a hand to where his wound was, fear suddenly giving him a boost of adrenaline. He was confused and surprised when all he found was a tear in his shirt. The skin was closed, all that remained of the gaping wound was a pink scar.
“That idiot…” Arthur said fondly, turning around to search for his magical manservant. People don't just come back from the dead, the warlock must have done something.
“Merlin?” Arthur called out, trying to get to his feet. His body felt heavy as if he had been asleep for a long time.
He supposed he kind of had been.
He scanned the area, finding no living creature other than the thick tear cover that surrounded the lake. Stones lay around the shore, covered in moss and fungi.
“Merlin?” he shouted again. “If you are hiding ‘cause you are angry at me for dying, there was not much I could do about it!”
The joke fell flat as it was swallowed by the wind.
“Huh,” Arthur said, raising his lip and wrinkling his nose. Something definitely wasn’t adding up.
He began walking to the trees, trying to find some sign of life among the forest when a flash of red fabric caught his eye.
His heart stopped again as he faced his worst nightmare.
Just feet from him, what he thought was just a pile of rocks, had lying across it a piece of fabric he would know anywhere.
Arthur ran forward and collapsed to his knees with a gasp of horror. Carefully, he picked up Merlin’s neckerchief in his hands as he stared at the stone form of his best friend.
Arthur reached a shaking hand out and brushed a bit of moss from Merlin’s face. His skin wasn’t skin, instead rough and cold as stone.
It was stone.
Merlin’s face was stuck in what looked like peace, a small smile on his lips, which just brought up a sob in Arthur’s chest. All of him was perfectly preserved, just as he had last seen him.
Except, now he was a statue.
“You fool,” Arthur choked out, tears burning his eyes. He remembered something he had heard long ago.
A life for a life.
Arthur had died. He knew he did.
And Merlin, self-sacrificing, foolish, wonderful Merlin, had given his life so Arthur could return.
“Why would you do this?” Arthur cried, placing his head on Merlin’s frozen chest. “Why would you die for me?”
No reply met his ears, as he knew it wouldn’t, but still it only made the tears fall faster. A still heart makes no beat under Arthur’s head.
Before he could stop himself, he leaned up and placed a kiss to Merlin's lips. The action was not returned, and Arthur truly felt like he was just kissing a statue.
Arthur drew back shakily, not trying to halt the flow of tears any longer.
“Please, come back,” Arthur begged, not caring about how his voice shook and cracked. “Merlin, come back to me. I do not know what to do without you.”
The sky seemed to darken as nothing changed.
Arthur threw his head back and screamed. Screamed for all he had lost and all he had had. Screamed as his heart broke and his soul faded. Scream to anyone who could hear his pain.
He sat back on his knees, panting up at the sky as tears clogged his vision.
And then the unbelievable happened.
Merlin took a breath.
Arthur whipped his head back down to the stone form, amazement befalling him as he saw Merlin’s lips crack and fade back to their normal pink hue. The process spread, uncovering the rest of his face and down his neck. His stupid jacket turned back to its proper color and his limbs softened.
Arthur let out a shout and pulled Merlin into his lap, a new wave of tears falling for a new reason.
“Merlin? Merlin, wake up. I order you to wake up,” Arthur demanded, shaking his servant lightly.
Slowly, torturously slowly, Merlin’s eyes opened to reveal golden iris that Arthur had already learned to love.
“Ar’ur?” a small, rough voice asked and Arthur nearly broke all over again.
“I’m here, I’m right here, Merlin,” Arthur comforted, cradling his warlock’s face with his hand.
“I’m dead?” Merlin asked, a smile appearing on his face. Arthur’s heart shattered.
“No! No, despite your best efforts you are not dead, you idiot!” Arthur yelled, holding Merlin tighter.
“What…?” Merlin asked. “Then, how?”
“What do you mean ‘how’? You tried to sacrifice yourself for me, dollophead!”
“That’s my word.”
“Merlin.”
“Seriously, Arthur, I don’t know what you mean. I… You died and I just… waited. I didn’t do what you think I did. At least… I don’t think I did.”
“Then how am I here?” Arthur asked.
“I am wondering the same thing,” Merlin said. Arthur watched as tears appeared in his friend’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Arthur questioned, then mentally kicked himself. What about this wasn’t wrong?
“I thought, no, I did lose you, Arthur,” Merlin whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek. “You died in my arms, and I couldn’t do anything. You were gone and I couldn’t even follow. I just waited here until my magic saved me.”
“Your magic did that?” Arthur wondered aloud.
“It was trying to protect me,” a new look of fear appeared on Merlin’s face. “Oh, Gods, Arthur! I don’t know how long we have been here. I-I don’t know where everyone is, if Camelot is still…”
“It’s alright,” Arthur said earnestly, rubbing his thumb softly down Merlin’s cheekbone. “Shh, it’s going to be alright.”
“Can we just… sit here? A little longer?” Merlin asked, his stormy eyes meeting Arthur’s sapphire ones.
“Yes,” Arthur replied instantly, holding Merlin tighter.
“And Arthur?”
“Yes, Merlin?”
“Can I… can I kiss you?”
Arthur didn’t justify the question with an answer. He just leaned down and pressed his lips to Merlin as he did a few moments earlier.
This time, Merlin kissed back.