When Arthur began to fall, Merlin knew there was not much time left. He tried to lift him back up, to press on to the lake, just visible through the trees; so, so close.
But Arthur resisted.
"Just, just, just hold me. Please," he slurred, falling back against Merlin's chest.
"No, no, no. We have to make it, Arthur. Don't do this," Merlin begged.
Arthur's only response was to begin his goodbyes.
Merlin started searching his mind frantically, for any idea, any at all. He dug through absolutely every memory of magic he had, hoping against hope that he could find a way of traveling the last few meters with this dying man in his arms. It was this thought, as unwelcome as it was, that made him suddenly remember a similar situation, so many years ago.
He quickly shushed Arthur, who was still struggling through his last words. "Save your breath. We are getting there. You're not saying goodbye yet," Merlin ordered. Then he mumbled, "I've never done this before, but Morgause has. Surely if she could, I can."
Arthur began to frown, but Merlin told him, "You can kill me later. I need to focus. At least I know where we're going..."
He brought forward in his mind the image of the lake, chanting "Bedyrne ús! Astýre ús þanonweard!" as he focused on the shore. He closed his eyes, clinging to Arthur when the sudden wind threatens to pull his king away from him.
When the wind stopped, he felt sand beneath his knees, where grass once was.
Merlin cautiously opened his eyes and whooped when he realised it worked. His excitement died the second he glanced down and saw how grey Arthur had become.
There was no time to waste. He threw his magic out to the Sidhe and the tower in the lake. He begged them to heal Arthur, to bring him home.
When the lake remained quiet, and Arthur's breaths became raspier, Merlin panicked.
Anything, he told them. I will offer anything if you bring him back to me.
A wave of magic soon answered, and the king's protector suddenly saw the indigo sky when his head snapped back as it washed over him.
Hundreds of lights arose from the lake, swiftly approaching his place on the beach.
When they tried to take Arthur out of his arms, he screamed, suddenly terrified and unsure of what he had done. Arthur reached weakly for his sorcerer, too far gone to feel his own fear, but unwilling to go when his closest friend was still in danger. But nothing stopped the Sidhe as the Once and Future King was carried to the lake.
One of them stayed behind. His blue face was cold as ice, showing none of the kindness Merlin had hoped for.
"What is the price?" Merlin croaked as Arthur disappeared from his sight.
"A life cannot be saved without a death. It must be a life for a life," the leader declared, brandishing his staff.
Merlin laughed darkly. "The last person to tell me that I killed," he said. "I have learned much since then. Leon was saved without this price. Try again."
The Sidhe man's mouth narrowed in displeasure. "Then bring us the dragon Kilgharrah. His magic shall be our price."
Merlin looked up at the blue man. Kilgharrah might have been a friend, once. But everything he has ever said has led them here. He nearly killed Arthur that day he was freed. Besides, he was so old now. Asking, for the sake of the future, could not hurt.
