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“Calm down, Merlin—calm down,” Lancelot murmured tearfully, forcing himself to avert his eyes away from the periodic spurts of his best friend’s blood seeping through the cracks between his clenched fingers.
“Lance…”
“You’re going to be okay; just stay awake. Please?” The loyal knight could to nothing more than encourage her to keep her eyes open, but it was not working. He was unaware of whether he was reassuring Merlin or himself. It did not matter.
“Someone get Gaius!” He could faintly hear Arthur behind them, yelling at someone—anyone—to gather the physician.
“Guess they—they got a l—lucky shot… huh, Lance?” Merlin struggled to get the words out, her voice stuttering with cracks.
Lance nearly gave himself whiplash with how fast he shook his head. “No! You’re going to be just fine. Please, Merlin, please!”
Her body gave a violent jerk, drops of blood flying from her stained tunic and splattering against Lancelot’s wet cheek. The blood mixed with his tears immediately, flowing down and dripping onto the cobblestone bricks his knees were resting on.
Merlin spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so tired, Lance.”
Her eyes shut involuntarily, and just as Lancelot believe her to be already gone, they fluttered again, folding into think slits from the glaringly bright sun.
The rest of the knights, along with Gwen, stood behind the heartbreaking duo, the latter sobbing into the shoulder of her brother’s chainmail whilst the others had gone silent, tears falling down their cheeks. Arthur seemed to be the worst of the group.
Every citizen in the courtyard watched the knight breakdown over the near-gone body of his first true best friend. They had all witnessed the attack; bandits stormed the grounds, pushing and shoving peasants away to rush the king on the steps. One man wielding a crossbow loaded his weapon and aimed. Before anyone could shout for cover, Merlin was tumbling down the steps, a bolt lodged deep in her side.
“Please, Merlin,” Lancelot sobbed for help, “Please.” He did not know what he was begging for at that point, he just needed Merlin to tell him it would be okay.
“’M sorry, Lance. ‘M sorry.” Merlin’s voice was near incomprehensible as her burdening eyes closed for the final time, her aching body dropping limp in the knight’s arms.
“No! No! Merlin!” Lancelot shouted through his choking sniffles at her parted mouth that gave off no breath, her chest that had ceased rising and falling.
He struggled to drag her to his chest when he heard the echoing footsteps, turning to see Leon and Percival making their way towards them.
The senior knight held Lancelot back in a tight embrace, spinning him around to hold the man’s arms at his side while Percival had the job of escorting Merlin’s body through the parting crowd to her and Gaius’ chambers. The shaking of his arms was obvious, but no one said a word.
Lancelot fought to get his arms free, but Leon would not relent on his torso. “Merlin! Merlin, no! Let me go!” All he could do was pound on his friend’s back to get away, but Leon would not budge. He could only hold the broken man in his arms and let him cry.
The day they burned Merlin’s body at the lake or Avalon in front of the whole of Camelot was the hardest for most. They had decided to give her a soldier’s send-off—a unanimous vote for the council after Arthur had stormed from the room in tears.
The citizens pretended not to notice the way one knight—who was adamant on himself lying her body in the boat—stumbled, shielding her body until he eventually crawled the rest of the way through the grass. They pretended not to notice when he gave up his noble title to live as Merlin did: a laborer. The pretended not to notice when few saw him tearing up while writing a letter on the training field.
However, they did notice when a shrill cry erupted from their queen when she discovered the body suspended from a beam in the armory, hanging from his neck by a rope.
They noticed the tears the rest of the Knights of the Round Table let their tears fall as they gave him a familiar send-off where he once gave Merlin hers.