I don't own Merlin.

If the world were fair, you reflect, this never would have happened.

You wouldn't have to stand here alive while he rests, lily white with death, on his pry.

Surely, he is worth a thousand of you. Surely, you were the one meant to die young. Surely, you were never meant to see his pale lips and wonder why you never thought to damn the consequences and kiss them anyway. Surely it should be you in his place, because the ache in you chest seems far too much to bear.

Surely, you think, some things shouldn't come to pass. Surely, you think, some things aren't meant to end.

You dread the moment that they light the pry, because you cannot imagine never seeing him again. It's hard enough not seeing him move, but you think that once his body is gone it will be as if he never existed except for your own fragile memories. That would be too much for you. You've already forgotten the sound of your father's laugh, so what's to say that you won't forget the blue of his eyes, or his smile.

If you had known the day he'd left, foolish and brave and stubborn, that this was how it would end you would have followed him -come hell or high water. You would have died at his side, without a single regret. You would have died happy- if only because you could have told him goodbye with a mouth full of blood, and not had to witness him carried on knight's shoulders with lips painted to match.

If the world were fair, you reflect as the flames lick at his skin, surely he would have listened to you.

Don't go, you'd said.

You wouldn't have to stand here and watch your very best friend burn till he is ashes in the wind if he hadn't.

Then again, he never listened to you anyway.