Epilogue
“Kid, kid. Stay with me, please. Don’t leave me.”
Merlin opened his eyes. It was cold and snow was falling. He had his parka and his trainers. Of course, he thought, it was all a dream I didn’t leave them back in…in…
“Glad you’re back with me kid. You gave me a fright.” The man looked like a god. Dark hair and tanned skin.
“I’m in heaven?”
The god smiled. “My name is Lance. Gwen and I live across from you. The art kid, right? The ambulance will be here soon. My girlfriend has gone to give them directions.” He smiled, showing perfect, white teeth. “Stay with me. Yeah? What’s your name?”
“Merlin Emrys, of London via Wales.”
He looked down at the pain in his body and saw a grey scarf blotched in red. A bone handle peeped out at the top.
His eyelids felt heavy. He tried to summon a golden haze in his vision, but nothing happened. “I’m gonna die.”
“Merlin, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare give up on me. I’m not gonna have my first death now. Not after I’ve just transferred. Not a neighbour I haven’t said hello to yet. Stay with me kid. Stay with me.”
Merlin tried to laugh but the pain was too great. “I’m nineteen, not a kid. And there’s only one of me,” he tried to laugh again, but it hurt too much.
“Just stay with me, yeah? Just stay with me. Please.” A hand clasped his. It was not Anharadeth’s. It was not Arthur’s. “Gwen said that we should take the shortcut tonight. She said it was important. Lucky for you, eh, kid?”
“It’s Merlin. Celimdol’s the kid.”
He closed his eyes and blackness took him again. He waited for the floating sensation, pleaded silently for it to start. It did not come, but the dreams did…
* * *
Myfanwy was in a small room dominated by a large bed. The din of a raucous party was subdued by three floors and a solid oak door. In her hands she held a charcoal portrait of a relaxing prince in his favourite red shirt, drawn on the back of a map of Gondor.
“My Lord Merlin, I am so sorry, for Arda has not finished with you. I have seen it.” Her green eyes were distant, focusing on nothing. “I am so sorry.” The image of the elf maiden was swept aside, replaced by darkness.
* * *
“So Mordach Na failed.” A voice of shadow and terror, coming from the dark corners of his mind. “The Witchking of Angmar has other servants. You are too valuable to lose.”
Merlin screamed inside.
* * *
“I knew you would come, my lord. I have tried to hold onto him, but he is fading from me even as I speak. I have failed.”
The male voice that answered was gentle and sad and with the wisdom of millennia. “Fear not, Lady Anharadeth, for the power of the Valar flows through me into him. It has been so since I began crossing the ford.”
“I have not the vision of my sister in lore, my lord. Has the shadow left him?”
“It fades as even he does. They both fade together and he takes it with him. Have enough been done? I know not. However, I do know that our world keeps turning and Eriador still needs the Buckland Brewers. Let go, my lady, let go of him.”
The feeling of comfort leaves his hand.
Blackness.
* * *
He was thirsty and crisp sheets restricted his movements. Someone clasped his hand. Merlin slowly opened his eyes and saw a blonde resting his head on his bed. “Hey”, he croaked.
The blonde looked up and Merlin immediately noticed the dark rimmed eyes and the dried tears. A tumbler of water was poured for him.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Arthur tried to smile, but his face crumpled and he kissed him instead. “Don’t you dare fucking leave me. Don’t you dare. Not ever.” He brought Merlin’s hand to his lips and kissed the palm. “I thought I’d lost you. Don’t do that to me again.”
“I won’t,” Merlin whispered. He looked around. “A private hospital room, Arthur?”
“If I want to spend money on you, then so what? I’d do anything for you, no matter what the cost. No matter what the situation. I…I’m sorry for shouting. I love you no matter what.” Arthur leaked fresh, silent tears. “No matter what you’ve got, idiot.”
“Prat,” Merlin whispered.
“And a right royal one.”
Something stirred in Merlin’s memory. “Arthur! Help me get to Rivendell. I can be cured by Elrond, Myfanwy said so. I want to be cured for you, for us.”
Arthur made shushing noises, smoothing the hair from Merlin’s forehead until he calmed down. “It’s just a dream, my love, just a dream. I just want you, cured or not. Just you.”
Merlin calmed enough to go into a restless sleep.
* * *
It was dark outside, but a table lamp in his room gave a little light. Arthur was about to walk out, the door open, but he called him back. The blonde kissed him on his cheek. “You okay?”
“Cheese and onion crisps?”
Arthur laughed. “Sure.” He was about to leave when Merlin caught movement in the corner of his eye. A kid, a Halloween costumed kid ran passed the doorway, followed by a hospital porter.
He tightened his grasp on Arthur’s hand.
“Fuck the crisps. Stay with me. Promise?”
Arthur smiled. “Wherever you are, I promise to stay, forever.”
Merlin, contented, closed his eyes again and slept. It’s the drugs that make you feel like floating, right?
THE END?
“Kid, kid. Stay with me, please. Don’t leave me.”
Merlin opened his eyes. It was cold and snow was falling. He had his parka and his trainers. Of course, he thought, it was all a dream I didn’t leave them back in…in…
“Glad you’re back with me kid. You gave me a fright.” The man looked like a god. Dark hair and tanned skin.
“I’m in heaven?”
The god smiled. “My name is Lance. Gwen and I live across from you. The art kid, right? The ambulance will be here soon. My girlfriend has gone to give them directions.” He smiled, showing perfect, white teeth. “Stay with me. Yeah? What’s your name?”
“Merlin Emrys, of London via Wales.”
He looked down at the pain in his body and saw a grey scarf blotched in red. A bone handle peeped out at the top.
His eyelids felt heavy. He tried to summon a golden haze in his vision, but nothing happened. “I’m gonna die.”
“Merlin, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare give up on me. I’m not gonna have my first death now. Not after I’ve just transferred. Not a neighbour I haven’t said hello to yet. Stay with me kid. Stay with me.”
Merlin tried to laugh but the pain was too great. “I’m nineteen, not a kid. And there’s only one of me,” he tried to laugh again, but it hurt too much.
“Just stay with me, yeah? Just stay with me. Please.” A hand clasped his. It was not Anharadeth’s. It was not Arthur’s. “Gwen said that we should take the shortcut tonight. She said it was important. Lucky for you, eh, kid?”
“It’s Merlin. Celimdol’s the kid.”
He closed his eyes and blackness took him again. He waited for the floating sensation, pleaded silently for it to start. It did not come, but the dreams did…
* * *
Myfanwy was in a small room dominated by a large bed. The din of a raucous party was subdued by three floors and a solid oak door. In her hands she held a charcoal portrait of a relaxing prince in his favourite red shirt, drawn on the back of a map of Gondor.
“My Lord Merlin, I am so sorry, for Arda has not finished with you. I have seen it.” Her green eyes were distant, focusing on nothing. “I am so sorry.” The image of the elf maiden was swept aside, replaced by darkness.
* * *
“So Mordach Na failed.” A voice of shadow and terror, coming from the dark corners of his mind. “The Witchking of Angmar has other servants. You are too valuable to lose.”
Merlin screamed inside.
* * *
“I knew you would come, my lord. I have tried to hold onto him, but he is fading from me even as I speak. I have failed.”
The male voice that answered was gentle and sad and with the wisdom of millennia. “Fear not, Lady Anharadeth, for the power of the Valar flows through me into him. It has been so since I began crossing the ford.”
“I have not the vision of my sister in lore, my lord. Has the shadow left him?”
“It fades as even he does. They both fade together and he takes it with him. Have enough been done? I know not. However, I do know that our world keeps turning and Eriador still needs the Buckland Brewers. Let go, my lady, let go of him.”
The feeling of comfort leaves his hand.
Blackness.
* * *
He was thirsty and crisp sheets restricted his movements. Someone clasped his hand. Merlin slowly opened his eyes and saw a blonde resting his head on his bed. “Hey”, he croaked.
The blonde looked up and Merlin immediately noticed the dark rimmed eyes and the dried tears. A tumbler of water was poured for him.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Arthur tried to smile, but his face crumpled and he kissed him instead. “Don’t you dare fucking leave me. Don’t you dare. Not ever.” He brought Merlin’s hand to his lips and kissed the palm. “I thought I’d lost you. Don’t do that to me again.”
“I won’t,” Merlin whispered. He looked around. “A private hospital room, Arthur?”
“If I want to spend money on you, then so what? I’d do anything for you, no matter what the cost. No matter what the situation. I…I’m sorry for shouting. I love you no matter what.” Arthur leaked fresh, silent tears. “No matter what you’ve got, idiot.”
“Prat,” Merlin whispered.
“And a right royal one.”
Something stirred in Merlin’s memory. “Arthur! Help me get to Rivendell. I can be cured by Elrond, Myfanwy said so. I want to be cured for you, for us.”
Arthur made shushing noises, smoothing the hair from Merlin’s forehead until he calmed down. “It’s just a dream, my love, just a dream. I just want you, cured or not. Just you.”
Merlin calmed enough to go into a restless sleep.
* * *
It was dark outside, but a table lamp in his room gave a little light. Arthur was about to walk out, the door open, but he called him back. The blonde kissed him on his cheek. “You okay?”
“Cheese and onion crisps?”
Arthur laughed. “Sure.” He was about to leave when Merlin caught movement in the corner of his eye. A kid, a Halloween costumed kid ran passed the doorway, followed by a hospital porter.
He tightened his grasp on Arthur’s hand.
“Fuck the crisps. Stay with me. Promise?”
Arthur smiled. “Wherever you are, I promise to stay, forever.”
Merlin, contented, closed his eyes again and slept. It’s the drugs that make you feel like floating, right?
THE END?