It takes them a long time to get back onto the top deck and, when they finally emerge, panting with effort as they haul Merlin alongside them, the sight that greets them is enough to force them to stop.

Everywhere, in every single direction, everywhere they looked was a vision of complete and utter panic. Bodies dashed by them, hands clasped around those of loved ones, eyes darting frantically back and forth between where they were going and who was with them. Although the lifeboats had taken as many people as was possible off the ship, the vast number of passengers that covered the decks was no less overwhelming.

Merlin was still out cold on Arthur's shoulder, his breathing shallow, catching on every inhale. Will held himself close to Merlin's side, staring out in front of him for a long time before looking up at Arthur. The prince felt the gaze on him and his mouth set in a line.

'We need-'

'Yeah. Yeah I know, Will.' Arthur breathed out steadily before readjusting Merlin more securely on his shoulder, and ducking into the crowd, Will glued to his side.

They tried to move with the majority, but it was impossible with every single person going in a different direction. Instead, they had to force themselves forward, pushing a path through whilst trying to keep the still unconscious boy from falling from the prince's shoulder.

The ground beneath their feet was tilting, both men could feel it as they ran across the deck, and the terrifying screech of ripping steel was terrifying as the sound rose up from the bottom of the ship. The screams became louder, and Arthur found it increasingly difficult to track where he was going. Every time he blinked he seemed to be facing a different direction, his eyes resting upon not a single person he recognised.

Suddenly, he felt the weight on his shoulder shift, and slip off altogether. He stopped short, whirling around in horror as Merlin fell from his grasp, his body not being able to even hit the floor before being swept up by the sea of people. Arthur was about to yell out when the boy's eyes opened wide, and his arms flailed manically in the air, a shocked yelp escaping his lips before he disappeared from view.

Merlin managed to escape the mob long enough to stand again, but he soon found that standing had suddenly gotten a lot more difficult than he remembered. His legs turned to jelly underneath him and he crumpled to the ground. Before he could get trampled however, he felt two pairs of hands gripping his arms and he was being forced upright again. His mind couldn't keep up with what was happening, and so all he could do was let himself be pulled sideways, out of the crowd.

'Jesus Christ, Merlin.' Will was by his right ear. 'You pick your moments, don't you?'

The boy couldn't answer, as he was immediately being shoved forwards, his weight leaning on a steady body beside him, towards... he had no idea what towards. He just hoped the other two did.

'Come on!'

Merlin looked up, his eyes heavy but still open. The world that passed by him seemed to be in slow motion. People, so many people, running, crying, screaming in choked voices that he could not hear past the sudden rushing in his ears. Children clung to their parents, or even just complete strangers, darting this way and that, their eyes wild, unable to escape. Like birds trapped in a cage, frantically searching for an exit, a way to get out.

Passengers were no longer grouped in variety, or class, or status. There were no niches of people, no barriers that circled groups of close friends or of family. Instead they merged together, crying on the shoulders of people had never seen before in their lives. Bodies dressed in finery held shaking children whose faces were stained with dirt and worn with poverty, the filth from their hands imprinting on the beautiful fabric of the older's clothes, though the ruined garments were not spared the slightest glance by either one.

It was times such as this, Merlin realised, that there were some things that simply did not matter. Where everyone understood that there were few things on this Earth that did, but one of them was what he was witnessing right now. A life and death situation in which, although there was nothing to be done, people still held on to that raw instinct to protect, to comfort, to survive.

But the fear that was raw and unhindered on the faces of the people they passed sent a surge of hopelessness to Merlin's heart. If others had no hope, why should they? How could they possibly get out of this?

His ears rang, unable to distinguish anything other than just noise. Voices were lost to him, filling his head with nothingness, a steady thump in his mind.

But then he heard music. The sweet strings of a violin, somewhere far off in the distance broke past all other sound. A long moment passed before it was joined by another instrument. A cello. And then another. And another. The tune melted into a melody, and it pulled Merlin's head up again, his eyes minutely seeking out the source.

Five men dressed in suits, complete with bow ties and tailed-jackets, stood just off from the side of the deck, each holding in their arms or their fingers, a conductor of music, and were playing, without fault and without pause. The ground beneath their feet was unsteady, and coins received from their performances much earlier in the evening rolled down the gradual slope of the deck. But still they played. They played with tears on their faces, despite lips being steady, and expressions remaining composed and professional.

Slowly, the noise began to fade. Instead, replaced by music, high tones of strings and the occasional low thrum of a cello. It was not a symphony, nor a tune to be recognised. It was simply a piece that had a purpose to carry across the entire ship, to fill the ears of every helpless man, woman and child, and to give a message. That all is not lost, all is not yet over. There is still hope. There will always be hope. Until the very end.

And it worked. For the thousands of damned left on-board, and also to the three men who now could hardly keep themselves going. Arthur turned himself around and swept up Will's arm, urging him along as he held fast to his best friend, whom now had a look of honest fixation, able to pick up his own feet and move alongside his companions with a fervour that had before seemed impossible.

The ship still sank. The wooden deck became even more tilted, and panic quickly rose again.

Faster and faster, the structure seemed to shift, rising and falling underneath scurrying feet. The trio exchanged looks of fear, of bare realisation, and began to run.

Arthur would not let go of Will, he would not let go of Merlin. Not for anything. They would stay together. They would survive this. They would.

Upon reaching the the bow, it became apparent that they had not been the only ones to realise early on what was happening, and so it was not easy obtain a position on the railings, and even more difficult to remain there once the inevitable became impossible to ignore.

Merlin held back, clinging to both Arthur and Will's jackets with shaking fingers as they fought for their place by the barriers. Everywhere around them, more people piled in together, more and more until his head was again filled with deafening noise. His body still felt weak but the magic inside of him roared, soaring up and down his spine in a plea to be released. To help these poor people.

But what was there to do? He could not heat an entire ocean. He could prevent every innocent body from freezing the second they hit that water. He could not repair such damage as was done to the ship. He could not summon boats out of thin air to get them to safety. Hecouldnot hecouldnot hecouldnot.

He could not save them.

Then, what was the point in this? What was the point in him? With all his supposed power, he was useless. Where was his abilities when he needed them the most? Where were they when it actually mattered?

He knew the answer. The truth, that there never was any point in him. His powers were strong, but not strong enough. They became hindered. They shrank down into meaninglessness. They became nothing.

He became nothing.

The Titanic sinks. The people scream. Men cry. Children watch with silent lips.

Watch history as it unfurls right before their eyes.

Those who survive will tell of this part with most recollection. With the most tears. The fear that flared in every beating heart was unbearable. So much so that mere cries could never douse it. They will tell of how they watched. Watched, and waited, though they had no idea what for.

Eventually, Will and Arthur are forced to released their grip on Merlin and each other as it becomes increasingly difficult to stand. Instead, their knuckles turn white as they clamp frozen fingers around the white metal railing, both huddled close together, faces turned inwards, their eyes flashing with the same warning: Don't let go.

People fall. The ship becomes more and more vertical, sending innocent lives flinging into the ocean hundred of metres below. Some hit the cabin before they reach the water's surface, their screams cut short by a sickening snap of bone, the light leaving them mercifully quickly.

Don't let go.

The ground beneath their feet disappears, leaving them nothing to support themselves on. They hang on, faces red with effort and wet with sweat despite the biting cold, the adrenaline pumping through their veins being the only thing saving them from following every voice cutting off below them and every empty body they hear hitting the water.

Don't let go.

A man on Arthur's left side trembled violently. The sheer fear and panic in his eyes cut through Merlin like nothing else, making him want to reach out with his magic to calm him. But if he did, that would be it. He barely had enough energy to hang on as it was, and that one spell would be one spell too many and he would have no chance of keeping his hold.

But still the man continued to cry out, his fingers shaking so much that, to Merlin's horror, they slipped from the bars altogether. He yelled as he dropped, and Merlin's mouth snapped open to yell with him, but suddenly, the man grabbed the bottom of Arthur's trousers in his terror, and the prince was jerked downwards with a muffled whine of shock.

'Arthur!' Will shouted above the noise. 'Arthur, hang on!'

Arthur gasped out and, without warning, his grip on the railing failed. Before Merlin could even breath in enough air to scream, the prince flung his arm out, grabbing the next bar down. His face was shining with sweat and his breath came in short, scared pants.

Without another seconds hesitation, Will's foot flew out, colliding directly with the head of the man who clung to Arthur's leg, emitting a sobbing beg from him for Will to stop, to have mercy.

Merlin watched as tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to force his boot down on the man's head, knowing that when he finally lost grip, he would fall to his death.

On the forth blow, the man's fists loosened on the trouser leg, the fabric ripping underneath his fingernails and he flailed manically in the air as he fell. The impact had taken Will off balance, and before he had a chance to recover, the man snatched at his foot with a vicious shriek. Will's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his fingers were forced from the railing. He was pulled so suddenly there was no hope of him grabbing the next bar as Arthur had done, and so he fell with the man, so fast and so far that when his head hit one of the ship's chimneys it was with a sickening crack, and his previously failing body stilled as it plunged into the dark waters below.

A beat of silence passed, and everything seemed to fall still. The whistle of wind in the air the only sound.

Then Merlin screamed.

Will's name tore itself from his lips, over and over. He could not stop himself, could not stop even to take a breath. He cried out until his voice cracked and his throat became raw and wretched. He could not hear Arthur as the prince bellowed frantically after the fallen boy, for a moment blind to everything else but his absolute refusal to believe his own eyes.

But he had no choice. Will was gone.

When the warlock could no longer scream, he wept. He wept, as if the power of his sheer despair could bring Will back, as if it was enough to rewind the last five seconds, give him enough time to save him. To catch him. He could do it. He knew he could. They always been that way, their whole lives built around the fact that they never, ever let each other fall. Not for anything.

Will would never have let Merlin down like this, he knew it.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

Merlin had failed. First, every single person on this ship, and now his best friend. He couldn't save him, and even with his lungs sore with the sounds ripping themselves from deep inside him, he knew it wasn't enough, it would never be enough. The agony of it was so intense that all he wanted to do was to tear at it with his bare hands, but he couldn't. Because this was not a wound he could heal with time or magic. This was something that was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He was never going to be able to escape the image of Will's face, the spilt second before he fell. Shock, realisation and the worst, confusion. Confusion as to what was happening. Why Merlin was looking down at him in horror instead of throwing himself forward to catch him. Confusion as to why Merlin's eyes weren't flashing gold and why his stomach dropped as Arthur and his best friend faded from his sight.

The image of betrayal that was going follow him forever, until the day he died.

Merlin turned his head back around to face the cold bar in front of him, pathetic whines and whimpers falling from his mouth, as if he believe that making enough noise would somehow make it all go away.

To his amazement, the noise started up again, as if nothing had changed.

The world should have stopped. Will was dead. There couldn't be anything after that, everything should have ended. It had in Merlin's eyes after all.

But of course it hadn't. Instead, everything suddenly seemed to happen a lot faster and he couldn't do anything about it. He just had to keep climbing. Keep holding on. But for what? What was there left to hold on for? More and more people were falling all around him, what was one more body? One more empty shell plummeting into the sea? What hope was there left? How can something that danced within your heart so safely once before, just become so dark that eventually there was just nothing? Nothing to hope for. Nothing to fight for. Nothing to even bother holding onto this damn railing for.

Merlin stared at his hands. They were clasped around the metal so tightly, fuelled by fear and desperation. He looked at them, unblinking, eyes wet but slowly losing fight.

There was nothing.

He let his fingers slip from the bars.

A hand shot out and snatched his bony wrist in a grip so achingly tight, a sound escaped Merlin's mouth involuntarily, a whimper. He looked up, straight into Arthur's face, who's eyes were red, wide and terrified. The prince's gaze never left Merlin's as his lips parted, trembling uncontrollably, his voice barely above a whisper, and choked with grief.

'Don't. You. Dare.'

Merlin's eyes were wide as he stared straight back at Arthur. His face crumpled, and he sobbed, closing his eyes in shame. The prince did not let go of his wrist, watching with tears streaking down his cheeks. 'I know,' Arthur tightened his hold. 'I know.'

Without warning, the deafening shriek of steel amplified in their ears, and the world was abruptly right again. Neither Merlin nor Arthur could prevent themselves from being thrown from the barrier, crashing hard onto the solid, wooden deck as they were pulled down. The Titanic had spilt completely in two, one half still vertically descending into the water, whilst the other slammed back down hard onto the water, barely staying afloat, harbouring the remaining survivors who hadn't yet fallen victim to the perilous ocean. Where the ship was torn, was an image of utter destruction. People, as well as the insides of the ship, wires and sparks of electricity fell through the gap.

The air became quieter, half of the screams that sounded before having been cut off, their voices lost. The silence should have been a mercy. Instead, it hung in the air like a promise. And Arthur's already frozen blood ran even colder as he considered exactly what that promise was.

He felt a sharp pain in his leg as he tried to stand, the unmistakable pull of broken bone seething through his body. With a muffled groan, he spun himself around on his backside, keeping his injury where it was as he reached out to Merlin by his side, who was lying, looking dazed, but otherwise unharmed.

Arthur said his name and he looked up, the cloudy fog dissipating from his eyes as he focused on the prince's face. Merlin nodded to say he was okay, pushing himself to his feet to prove it. He held out his hand for Arthur to take, before taking in the man's leg, bent out at a strange angle on the ground. His eyes widened and then suddenly, Arthur saw everything that had just happened replay in the boy's mind. Unable to reach him, Arthur shouted out to him over the deafening silence, having nobodies voice to compete with, yet still feeling as though it was necessary to act as though there were. Merlin did not answer, only standing stiff, his hand still stretched out, but his face completely still and cut off in an expression of confusion and denial.

Over and over again, the prince shouted his name, reaching his arm out as far as he could, trying to reach the boy's frozen fingers.

'Merlin, Merlin, please.'

The deck had begun to tilt again. They had no more time. Arthur had not expected the ship to spilt into two, but now he was sure beyond sure that this was their very last chance. Their only hope was to stay out of the water for as long as possible and they had done so. They would go down with the last half of the Titanic and they would survive this. They would.

But an aching heaviness clung to Arthur's heart. Will. Will was supposed to be there when they escaped. They had sworn that they would get out of this together, and damn it, Arthur had been so sure they would.

This wasn't right. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

Arthur averted his gaze from where it had rested upon the people before him and returned it to Merlin, who's arm had dropped to his side and now just stood, staring down at Arthur with a look on his face that the prince could not decipher. His eyes were dark, no longer illuminated by the soft light from the cabins below them. His mouth was closed, but his lips were not thin. He did not seem as much in pain, as he was in defeat. And Arthur wondered if that wasn't worse.

The warlock was gone. His mind had solidified on hopelessness, one could see it in his eyes. So much disbelief and fear held within them, that it clouded his vision, preventing him from seeing a way out. And was there one at all?

The prince knew that this was it. If Merlin had given up, then he felt no contempt doing exactly the same himself.

But Arthur had never been very good at reading people. If he was, then he might have interpreted what he saw differently.

Merlin wasn't defeated. Not by any means. His mind was made up in a way that he doubted it had ever been in his life. The forcefulness of his resolve hardened his heart and sent him shocked into motion.

Without a word he leant down, ducking his head underneath Arthur's armpit, and hauled the prince to his feet. Arthur cursed and clung to the boy's tunic. He tried to ask Merlin what he was doing, but was ignored, instead being swivelled around, and firmly lead back to the railings.

The remaining half of the ship continued to shift underneath their feet, this time faster as the weight had dropped considerably. Those who recovered quickly enough, fought for their place at the barrier, as it rose higher above their heads. Merlin gritted his teeth, refusing to crumple under Arthur's weight, and lifted them onto the metal bars, gently lifting Arthur's good leg over to the other side, before following suit himself. The metal screamed in protest as the structure tipped more and more forcefully, pushing itself up even higher, making every movement potentially fatal. The duo crawled up and over the railings completely, setting their weight down on the other side, which had now become so horizontal, that they could actually rest on it. The ship keep tilting, further and further, higher and higher, until something unsettling occurred to Merlin.

What if it didn't stop? What if the weight of all the people on this side was too much, and sent it right over the top?

Amidst his surge of panic, Merlin also realised that, eventually, there was going to be nothing for them to hold on to. However long they managed to stay on the ship, there would come a time eventually that the two of them would have to endure the icy water, have to find a way to keep themselves afloat, keep themselves alive. They had gotten this far, but what happened when there was nothing else they could do? What if there were no lifeboats to come back for them? They would freeze, and none too slowly. How could they not?

It was impossible. Utterly impossible.

But, Merlin supposed, wasn't impossible what he was good at?

'Arthur!' He made the prince look up at him , trying to ignore the discomfort of seeing such pain in the man's eyes. His leg was resting beside him, but it remained at an awkward angle, and going by the way Arthur held the rest of his frame, it hurt a lot more than what he was letting on. 'When we reach the surface, don't hold your breath.' Tiny parts of the safety introduction he attended all that time ago came slowly back to him, and he shouted out instructions, directed at Arthur but the words were clung to by anyone else who was in earshot. 'Only take a breath in the very last moment before we go under. Take in as much air as you can, and don't fight to let it out. You will be pulled down, but don't panic. The ship will drag everything down as it sinks, so you need to make sure you have enough oxygen to stay underwater for long enough.'

He kept his eyes trained on Arthur, who watched him, his expression a grimace but openly attentive. 'When you feel it stop pulling you, kick. Kick with your good leg, as hard as you can. Swim to the surface. Don't give up. Never give up, Arthur. You have to swim to the surface.'

The prince closed his eyes, nodding his head down once before opening them again and smiling minutely. Merlin's felt sick with terror and his hands shook where they clung to Arthur's arms. He released them, reaching instead for the man's hands. 'I will find you,' he said, quieter, only for them. 'You hear me? I'll find you. I don't care how long it takes. Just don't give up. Promise me.'

Arthur's eyelids closed again and he rested his forehead on their joined hands. 'I promise,' he murmured, so softly that Merlin couldn't be sure he'd even heard it.

'I'll hold you to that,' he replied, his voice breaking as he saw the ocean fast approaching in the corner of his eye.

The prince breathed heavily, Merlin felt it on his fingers, as he prepared himself for what was coming.

The water engulfed their boots, then up to their knees, and finally, as both men breathed in the burningly cold air, their heads went under.

Everything was dark. And ice.

He didn't even register it at first, so intense was the feeling. All he knew was pressure, pressure closing in on him from all sides, digging underneath his skull and pushing against his brain, harder and harder and harder until he was consumed with agony.

He felt himself being pulled down. It was so frightening that for a moment, his heartbeat went crazy, sending shots of panic through him as he momentarily struggled against the unyielding current. Then, as he remembered Merlin's words, he stopped, and with all his effort, ceased his movements.

Further and further down he sank, and though he could not see but a hand in front of his face, the sense of such vast space surrounding him made his mind burn and his insides twist with deeply uncomfortable incomprehension.

The idea that the water around him stretched on and on, for an infinite distance, was more terrifying to him than the idea of drowning.

He was running out of air, he could feel it the pain start to intensify in his lungs. The force that pulled him down slowly released him, and none to soon. Making sure his mouth did not open even a fraction, he pushed his frozen arms up and kicked.

He couldn't breathe. His throat burned and the pain in his chest increased tenfold. The water tugged and tugged at his jaw, begging it to open, to just let the water in, let in the relief he yearned for, the release that would free him from all this.

But he kept kicking. He couldn't give up. He couldn't. The pain in his broken leg was reduced to a mere twinge in comparison to the daggers of ice that penetrated him from every side, so he kicked with it too. It was ineffective, at it's crooked position, but it deterred him none. He was not going to die here.

He fought his way up, keeping his face turned to the pull of the water. His arms stroked stiffly, propelling him forwards. Up, higher and higher, closer and closer.

Until finally, he broke the surface.

Breathe. Breathe. You're above water now, you're not drowning. Breathe.

Gasp after gasp escaped his lips but he did not feel the air that entered through them. He couldn't open his lungs to let it in so it just felt empty. Empty air that contained no oxygen at all. Just more ice.

The water burned. The waves consumed him, ripping open the nerve endings beneath his skin and forcing themselves violently deeper and deeper into his blood. He opened his mouth to scream but instead could only continue to gasp in the air that couldn't save him, that only gave another way for the fire to shoot down his throat. His brain cried out in agony, sending shot after shot of adrenaline desperately through his limbs, forcing movement into them, so he was jerking wildly to get some heat, some friction, anything that would make this stop.

He saw something approaching him, but he had no hope of knowing what it was. It got bigger as it got closer, until Arthur managed to vaguely recognise it as a face. He tried to get away from it but his body wouldn't let him, it's only concern being to make him move as much as possible, spasming as wave after wave of violent shivers racked through his body. The face stopped in front of him, it's lips moving quickly and as loud as the words they emitted were, Arthur could not register their meaning, the individual syllables lost in the roaring in his ears. He forced his head to move one way, then the other, to show he didn't understand, and the face came closer.

Panicking, Arthur felt himself flinch away instinctively, immediately making the burning worse, which he didn't even think was possible. Once more he wanted to scream, to die, for someone to just kill him, because it would be so much better than anymore of this. Of course, this would kill him too, eventually, but he couldn't bear to wait that long. He couldn't breathe and everything was fire and ice and he burnt and it hurt and he just wanted someone to make it stop.

A hand extended from the water and he saw it press itself against his chest. A jolt of fantastic energy surged through him, melting his veins, opening his windpipe and forcing his lungs to contract so the cold air flew through him and he could breathe. He could breathe. Tears spilled over his cheeks as he cried out in relief, taking a moment to adjust before gulping down sweet, sweet oxygen, his blood singing as it was granted access to flood through his entire body.

After a while, he realised that, in his relief, he had completely neglected the importance of keeping afloat, and so now was sinking rather hastily into the freezing ocean. He jumped back into motion again and, keeping his nose forcefully above the water, focused himself on the body in the water beside him whom had saved his life.

Merlin.

Arthur surged forwards to catch the boy as his head slipped further and further underneath the water.

'Oh no, no, no. You idiot.'

Merlin's eyes were bare slits, his body still, as a small smile crept onto his face. Arthur ignored the throbbing of his heart in his ears and instead looked around frantically for something to hold on to.

'Hang on, Merlin, I just need to-.'

A wooden door a few metres away from them drifted slowly towards Arthur's outstretched hand, and the prince pulled it the rest of the way, pushing it in front of Merlin. The boy raised his arms to rest on it, but they just fell straight back down, having frozen almost completely into hard stubs. Arthur grabbed the back of his shirt, the warmth from Merlin's magic still shimmering blissfully at the surface of his skin, and hauled the boy onto the wood, making sure every single part of his body was out of the water.

The prince pulled it towards him, using it to take some of the strain off his burning legs, releasing some of the effort it took to stay afloat. He lay his head on the door, breathing steadily in and out, trying to ignore the blinding pain inside him despite the supernatural warmth in his veins. His hand reached out and he clasped his fingers around Merlin's, trying to will some of it to transfer to the boy, who lay with his eyes fully closed now, his chest rising and falling slowly as he wheezed out in pain. Arthur pulled himself up as far as he dared, and pressed his lips to Merlin neck. 'It's okay,' he murmured. 'We'll be okay.'

They were there for a long time. Neither dared to open their eyes to the horrors that waited in the waters that surrounded them. Bodies of the frozen, remains of the hundreds of lives that had been extinguished in a matter of hours, the floating ghosts of the people that had been left behind when the last lifeboat descended into the waters.

Arthur kept his hand rested on Merlin's chest, allowing the minute movement of the boy's heartbeat to reassure him enough so he didn't let go of the door. The warlock hadn't said a word, but he didn't need to. As long as the prince knew he was alive, that was all that mattered.

Arthur didn't know what they were waiting for. He didn't know if they were even waiting for anything except death. He was mildly shocked at how little that idea bothered him. If he was honest with himself, there was very few ways he would have preferred to die. They had done all they could. They had lasted out far longer than most others. They had saved Morgana, they had made it this far. It had to mean something didn't it?

Will died knowing that they would be safe. He knew that no matter what happened, Arthur would not abandon his best friend, he knew that if anyone could defy everything, could get out of an impossible situation alive, it was Merlin.

After the final part of the Titanic descended into the water, it became silent.

For the hundreds who floated nearby, safe in tiny lifeboats, it seemed as though there was not a survivor anywhere amongst the wreckage, and the quiet feeling of sombre grieving settled upon them all. Not a soul made a sound, only the delicate trickle of the oars sweeping through the tiny waves that lapped against the wood of the boat filtering through the cold, dead night. Even the wind had moved on, leaving not a trace that it had been there at all.

Then, a voice rang out, breaking the momentary spell.

'We need to go back.'

No one answered. The woman who had spoken sat staring at the guard on their boat, her eyes seeking out his until he was forced to meet her gaze, He only did so briefly, before looking away again, hands clutching the oar he held so hard his knuckles were white. 'I-I don't think there will be any point, my lady.'

The reply was immediate. 'There is every point. If there is even the slightest chance that one person has survived, and that we can save them, there is every point.'

Her words held in the air for a moment. Then, slowly, there was a whisper of agreement from the others on board. So much had happened this night, not one of them could bear another lost soul, dying slowly when they had the chance to be rescued.

The guard seemed to need no other encouragement, maybe perhaps because he had already made up his mind, and he turned the boat around.

They had drifted far from where they had first escaped, and it took them a long to reach where the remains of the ship were floating in the water, each minute going by with another wave of hopelessness and fear. Fear of what they would find, hopelessness at what they would not.

They knew the moment they arrived that they were too late. Pieces of wood, strips of machinery all floated calming in the dark waters, each one a potential lifeline, each one a potential death trap. The serenity of the scene was poisonous, silence hanging in the air like a funeral melody. Though they could see no bodies, it was sickening to think of why. They passed through the watery graveyard, the guard taking immense care not to touch any object. Where they had returned to felt sacred, and to disturb such peace seemed unforgivable.

The woman had crawled her way to the front of the boat, eyes scanning the ocean, darting and zoning in at every movement. 'Arthur!' she called. 'Will!'

The others flinched at her voice, not daring to follow in her example. Morgana was not deterred however, as she continued to search and call for her brother and their two companions . She saw no sign of any person, be it man, woman or child, and, although her shouts were confident, she could not stop the dread that crept into her heart.

When they did find the remaining passengers, however, Morgana almost wished that they hadn't.

The air was nothing compared to the chill that stabbed it's way up her spine as she stared across the water, the bodies seeming to have appeared from no where. She stared into the dead eyes of a mother, clutching a baby to her breast, mouth open in a silent cry. With all the horrors that she had experienced, she could not look away. Every empty shell was covered with ice, and not a single limb hung limp, but stiff as wood, floating beside them or caught on a piece of debris.

The scene was petrifying. But Morgana's own body still worked for her, Arthur and Wills names repeatedly being called out from her lips, Merlin's name called out in her mind, her ears still straining to hear the reply.

She had to believe that there would be one.

'Merlin.'

From somewhere deep inside his head, Merlin heard a voice.

And although it seemed familiar, it ignited no spark of recognition in his mind. He was sure that he had heard it before, certain. But not out loud. The only thing that was familiar was the signature of magic that seeped through with the voice. A signature that he had felt before, had heard before. Somewhere not long ago. Not long at all.

'Merlin.'

'Arthur!'

He heard another voice. This time out loud, but it was so faint he was barely even aware of it.

But he knew it. That was certain.

Merlin opened his eyes. Morgana. The lifeboats. They had come back for them.

'Merlin.'

'Arthur! Will!'

The sound roused the warlock from his state of utter dormancy and he turned his face towards it, opening his mouth to call back to her. A raspy wheeze was what he expelled instead, one so pathetic and weak that there was not a chance it would be heard by someone so far away. Choking with effort, he turned, towards Arthur, a tiny smile pulling at the edges of his lips, to tell the prince they were saved.

The man's face was iced over. His skin was so pale that there seemed to be no blood underneath it at all. The frozen fingers that were lain across Merlin's chest were stiff and unmoving. His body made not the slightest stir, not even when shoved against with Merlin's full weight.

'Arthur,' Merlin whispered, his voice so quiet he barely heard himself. 'Wake up.'

There was no strength left in him for a spell to warm himself, let alone enough to rouse Arthur. Instead, he pressed his hand to the man's cheek, pressing against it repeatedly. Arthur did not stir, but rocked back and forth with each of Merlin's movements, his entire body hard and solid against the wood Merlin lay on.

Slowly, so slowly he didn't even notice it at first, Merlin began to feel like it was useless. Something was useless. That he should leave. Leave and find Morgana.

He didn't listen to it, obviously, and continued to shake Arthur awake, softly whispering into his ear.

'Arthur, Morgana's here. You need to wake up now, we have to go. We have to go now, Arthur.'

The prince's body remained as it was, cradled underneath his love's fingertips, stuck solidly to the wooden door by the ice that lead a trail all the way along his arm. Merlin thought him beautiful, the most beautiful man in the entire world. He already knew that he loved Arthur, he just never told him how beautiful he was. He decided would do so the moment he woke up.

'We need to go, Arthur. Come on.'

Merlin heard more shouts from behind him, from Morgana as well as the guard, and other passengers. Their voices got louder, but he did not attempt to hail them down. He needed to wake Arthur first.

'Come on, Arthur. Please. It's time to go.'

His fingers swept down to rest on the beautiful man's temple. He felt no beat underneath them.

Merlin stopped, his hand falling back down to Arthur's side. The prince looked so peaceful, asleep so soundly beside him. The lines that had embedded themselves into his skin over the years had been smoothed out, and his expression was completely content. His lips, though blue, were turned up, a ghost of a smile. A smile for the last person he saw. A smile for Merlin.

The warlock's eyes softened at the sight, and he retracted his hand.

'Okay,' he said, almost silently. 'It's okay, you don't have to wake up yet. You can sleep, it's okay.'

The back of his eyes burned as hot tears fell from them, but he did not make any sound of sadness, only gazing down at the man, his eyes flickering across every feature.

'You're so beautiful, Arthur,' he murmured. 'I swear, there's not a person I have seen that is as beautiful as you.' The tears came thick and fast now. 'I'm sorry I never got to tell you, Arthur. I'm sorry I let you fall asleep. I'm sorry that now you can't see Morgana again. She's alive, though, Arthur. She's safe. She's right over my shoulder, looking for you. I'm sorry she won't find you, Arthur. I'm really am so, so sorry.'

Merlin lay his forehead down on his prince's arm, letting his eyes fall closed as he slowed his breathing. It wasn't hard. The breath had been begging to leave him since he woke. It was a relief to finally let it go.

'I love you, Arthur.' He didn't hear himself say it, but he felt the words leave his lips. And that was all that mattered. In the end.

Please let me know if you liked it. Thankyou so much for reading.