Camlann was always the end, just never in the way that was expected.

The man looked up, looked at Arthur. Only it wasn't Dragoon kneeling amidst the fallen warriors, wasn't Dragoon who had just won them the battle, wasn't Dragoon who had helped defeat Morgana and Mordred, after all this time. Wasn't Dragoon with Mordred's sword wedged under his ribs.

Merlin gasped eyes wide with pain and something else, something Arthur could barely comprehend. That was surely beyond all reason, and yet reflected back at him in a brilliant shining gold. He couldn't think, could barely feel his own wounds, some still dripping from the fight. He was transfixed by the slow, sliding change from gold to blue, a shade so familiar to him after all these years, after all that had happened. Arthur had always known on some level that there was more to his manservant than meets the eye, more to the seemingly simple country lad he had once met, to the loyal boy who'd followed him unarmed into battle, to the man he'd grown to call friend, to love. And there it was, in the fading glow of his eyes, so obvious now in this endless moment Arthur had to think, to understand. And then it was over.

"Arthur," breathed Merlin, a hand clutching at his stomach, at the blade protruding from it, and that was wrong, that was bad, so without a thought Arthur knelt down before his friend, just in time to catch him as he toppled forward.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered, cradled in Arthur's arms, "I'm a sorcerer." He swallowed. "I have magic."

"I kind of guessed to be honest, after your rather impressive display." Merlin smiled, winced as he tried to move. Arthur pulled him closer.

"Honestly Merlin, did no one ever tell you not to move when you have a sword stuck in you?"

"Funnily enough, it's never actually come up before."

"No matter, once we take it out I'm sure you can fix yourself up in no time." Merlin tensed.

"Arthur..."

"On the count of three, alright?"

"Wait, just-"

"Three!"

He pulled it out in one swift tug, tossed it carelessly to one side. Merlin shouted, incoherent in his pain for a few moments, before coming back to himself, to Arthur, who was shaking him gently.

"Your turn now Merlin," he said. "Come on, it's got to be easy compared to your earlier work."

With one last small groan of hurt, he looked up at his King. Arthur didn't understand, didn't know that it wasn't an ordinary blade Mordred had welded, that all the magic in the world couldn't save Merlin now.

"I can't."

"Of course you can."

"No Arthur, the blade-"

"Come on Merlin, get to it, it's probably best you don't lose too much blood, even if you can make yourself better." He smiled, but it seemed a little manic. "I think getting stabbed get's you the day off, but after that I need you back at work. My room's have needed a good sweeping for a while now, and the stables are simply terrible-"

"Arthur!" Merlin shout cause him to start coughing, which at least stopped Arthur's tirade. Once he could breathe again Merlin spoke, as calmly as possible.

"Arthur, the blade was forged in Dragon's Breath, like yours. Everything it touches is destroyed."

Arthur blinked, his brow furrowed. He didn't understand, couldn't comprehend the words in his ears, in his head. He stared at the man in his arms, the man he trusted beyond anyone. He thought he should feel at least some betrayal but he was still numb, his mind clouded.

Merlin tried to smile, but at this point he was feeling dizzy, so he thought he got it a bit wrong.

"There's nothing I can do."

The world was completely still, yet seemed to be spinning faster than Arthur could keep up. He was in free fall, and yet could feel the ground underneath him, could feel Merlin breathing in his grasp, a hold which suddenly tightened.

"No."

Merlin looked pained, "Arthur."

"No."

"Please-"

"NO!" Arthur was the one who was having trouble drawing breath now, panting as if he'd just run a league, like he'd just fought a war. "No, just because you can't do anything doesn't mean no one can, there must be some medicine, a remedy, a cure, a way to heal you-"

"Arthur, there's nothing-"

"-I'll find a way, I promise."

Merlin's eyes were wet now, tears almost streaming down his cheeks in the face of his friend's anguish.

"You can't promise that."

Arthur laughed, loud and hard and choking. "I'm the King, Merlin," he chuckled, "you can't tell me what to do."

Merlin grinned without intent, tears finally breaking free. "Since when has that ever stopped me?"

They giggled. This had always come so naturally to them, the easy back and forth. But there was an edge to it now, a tinge of hysteria that seemed to make everything sharper, the colours of the world brighter, harsher, a change that no one would ever wish to happen.

The unnatural laughter faded into silence. The battle field was quite, everyone but Arthur having been pushed back by the force of the magic being welded. Only the dead were there to see the final scene, the last of the legend. The Warlock and his King.

"Remember what I said before?" Merlin asked, his voice strained. "Don't get a bootlicker. You'd get far too big headed if you didn't have someone to fight with once in a while. And talk to Gaius, he'll be able to answer any question you have about, about all this."

Arthur swallowed, his own face wet to match. "Why can't you answer them?"

"Arthur, you know I can't, you know I'm going were you can't."

"Says who?"

"Don't you even think about it, Arthur Pendragon!" His fury was instant, a glimpse of an hour before when Morgana had sent a blast of pure power at Arthur, only to be knocked aside by a screamed word and a flash of light. "Don't you dare. Don't you ever, ever think about it. There's so much more you need to do! Rebuild the kingdom; make Camelot better and stronger than ever before. Train new knights, be with Gwen, have children of your own, and heir to your thrown. You don't need me, Arthur." He smiled ruefully, his anger burned out with most of his energy. "I'm not sure you ever needed me."

Now it was Arthur's turn for anger. "How can you think that? How can you think yourself so unimportant? You are, without a doubt, the bravest, stupidest, smartest, clumsiest, loyal, caring, idiotic person I've ever met. I've lost count of the times you helped me, given me counsel, a shoulder to lean on. I would have died a thousand times over without you, so you can't say I've never needed you." Arthur was shaking, his hold tight enough to hurt. He took a deep breath. "I would be nothing without you. And I may not need you as much since Morgana's defeat, but it doesn't mean I don't want you."

Merlin's face was still streaming, but his mouth was smiling. A grin Arthur would recognise amidst the whole land. "I'm glad," he started, his breathing shallow, "that you knew, before the end. I'm glad we could talk about this. Gods, you have no idea how much I wanted to tell you, I just..."

"I understand why you did. I wish you hadn't, but I really do get it."

Merlin's chest was barely moving now, his body beginning to shut down. "You have to, to tell my Mother. She should, she should know what...happened to me. And the others, Gaius, Gwen, Gwaine and the rest. Can you, tell them? I, I don't want them to think..."

Arthur had to force the words out. "They'll know. As soon as I know the whole story, I'll make sure they know the truth, that everyone knows it. That you were the bravest of us all, a true hero, a legend."

Merlin gave a small chuckle, coughed weekly; his eye's slowly falling shut. "I think, I'd rather have been ordinary."

Arthur chortled. "Always a complainer, Merlin."

There was no reply. Arthur looked down at his friend, and called to him again, barely seeing the pallid skin and the still chest.

"Merlin?"

He shook him, unaware of his knights in the distance, having finally spotted him amongst the carnage, moving towards him.

"Merlin?!"

And all at once, the stillness of the air was fractured by a scream. Arthur didn't know who was doing it, but he wished they'd stop, Merlin clearly needed his rest. Hands suddenly grabbed him, but he pushed them away, clinging to his friend to protect him, to be with him when he woke up. The hands retreated, and Arthur was left alone again, slowly rocking his manservant, waiting for him to awaken. After all, his chambers weren't going to clean themselves.

And the most terrible thing was that in the end Morgana was right, and Merlin was wrong. Camlann really was the end for the Once and Future King, for Arthur was truly nothing without Emrys. Without his other side. Without Merlin.