Merlin's magic (Oneshots) 1

Sir Aziraphale of the Round Table

A.N.://This is a crossover fanfiction with Good Omens. The series overlap during Arthur's reign and since I'm currently obsessing over both fandoms, I decided to make a small something for this. I have also recently opened a new book for the good omens oneshots I might or might not drop. You can check it out if you want. This is a fix it, enjoy :)

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It was the end of the world.

"Oh, no! This can't be how it ends! We should do something!"

Merlin didn't look up. He cradled Arthur's body closer, trying, straining himself to get him just a little bit closer to the sea. Who cared who said that? His life was falling apart right here in his arms, shattering before his very eyes, as if he hadn't spent the last 10+ years searching for a way to prevent this. He hiccupped. He sobbed. He couldn't hear himself. Arthur was still breathing. Only just. Should this person there try to get in his way, he wouldn't hesitate to kill them, but he didn't have the physical strength to warn them right now.

"I don't think so, angel. I'm pretty sure I'll get more than a hefty note from downstairs if I help the man who's destined to bring peace to the world." This was another voice. A little slurrier, and hissing despite themselves.

"Well, I certainly can't just WATCH him die! Merlin has been fighting so hard to keep him alive."

"Then why don't you help him?"

"You KNOW why! I can't!"

It was getting harder to shut them out. Merlin looked up, hating himself for straying even one second from his king's side. Arthur had stopped talking a minute ago. His eyes had rolled back in his eyes. "Who are you? What do you want? I swear to the gods, I will destroy you if you touch him!" His strength was resurfacing as he listened the two assholed debate whether or not to save the only thing that really mattered in the entire world.

"See? That's why! He's always threatening! I'll get in trouble if I help him. Besides, bringing someone back from the dead... " Slowly, the two men came into view. One of them, the one who had spoken, was a bundle of white curls. He wore bright clothes, the kind that the new kind of priests wore to church. He looked like a middle-aged man whom the sunlight loved a little bit too much. The other one was a bit taller, lankier, and edgier. He wore bandit clothes, dark in every way the smaller one was bright. His eyes though, they were of a bright golden.

"Are you a sorcerer?" Merlin felt hope well up inside of him at the sight of golden eyes. He felt just as much suspicion, but right now he had nothing left to lose. "Please tell me you're druids. Tell me you can help!" If not... they would definitely regret it. If Arthur's death wouldn't kill him first.

The bright one shifted, clearly fighting with himself. "I... we... oh, alright." He snapped his fingers.

Merlin wanted to say something, but in the next moment, Arthur snapped up, gasping for air. He coughed, half burying himself in Merlin's arms as if grasping for something to keep him alive. He looked like a man who had just drowned and been saved at the very last second. Merlin gaped at him, searched for the wound, and found nothing there but healed skin. "I... what? You... how?" He turned back to the bright one. He had expected the one with the golden eyes to do something, not that... that priest.

The bright one looked troubled. "Please don't mention it. I'll get into a lot of trouble for this one! We're not supposed to bring people back from the dead."

The dark one laughed. "Oh, come on, angel. You've made the world a better place yet again. A big win for your side. Good thing you were here."

"It wasn't my JOB to do this, Crowley!" The bright one whined. Nevertheless, he straightened his posture to face Merlin who had long lost interest in the two of them.