In The Hearts Of Men

Chapter 20

Gaius was storming around, slamming bottles back onto their shelves, shutting books with unnecessary force, furious with Uther. He heard the door open and close and snarled,

"What?" Turning around, his face murderous. He saw that it was Arthur, and his expression softened.

"You heard that, didn't you?" Gaius said.

Arthur nodded, looking at the ground.

"It isn't true, is it?" He murmured.

Gaius closed his eyes and sat down heavily in a chair.

"Arthur," he said quietly, sounding defeated, "I'm afraid I can't tell you it isn't."

Arthur exhaled and sat down too, his head in his hands.

"Oh, Merlin..." He whispered thickly.

"W-would you like to see him?" Gaius asked.

Arthur looked up through bleary eyes, and nodded slowly.

Gaius led him to Merlin's room. Arthur had only been in here a couple of times before. It was small and cold, and upon the thin bed, covered by a thin blanket, lay the thin man whom would have called his best friend.

Merlin was a pale white rag of a boy with his shock of jet hair damp and all in his eyes. There was a bucket next to the bed, splattered with scarlet. Merlin's hands were on top of the blanket- they were slim, white and shaky... skeletal. In one was clasped a blood stained handkerchief. His eyes were open and dull, and his thin lips were crusted with dried blood. He tried to look up as Arthur stepped into his room, but didn't have the strength to lift his own head.

Arthur couldn't stop himself; he broke down and sobbed. To see this man, this man, always happy and energetic, always helpful and with a joke to lighten the mood... To see him as helpless as a baby, dying, was... Simply unbareable.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried, flinging himself down next to Merlin's bed, grasping the cold, bloody hand of his best friend in his own and sobbing into it. "Merlin!"

"Arthur," choked Merlin. "I'm so glad you're here..." He coughed and scarlet covered his lips again.

"No... Merlin..." Arthur wept.

"Arthur, I need to explain what happened to you, before... It's too late," said Merlin.

Arthur couldn't reply. He just cried.

"I... I've been lying to you. Arthur, I'm so sorry. I'm... I was born with magic."

Arthur barely heard him. He didn't care. He just couldn't think of a world without Merlin. He didn't care what he was, what he had done. As long as... As long as this wasn't their last conversation, he didn't care.

"I killed Matilda, but it was an accident," Merlin coughed. More blood. "She thew the sword at me and I deflected it using magic. It killed her. I killed her.But I've never regretted anything more than I have this. I want you to know that. I want you to know how sorry I am. I need you to forgive me."

"Yes, yes, of course I forgive you, Merlin!" Arthur sobbed, grasping Merlin's hand tighter. "I... Whatever you've done... It's not your... I forgive you! Please, don't leave me..."

"Arthur, it's okay," Merlin comforted him. "All the bleeding's internal; that's where the blood's supposed to be, right?"

Arthur left Gaius's rooms drying his eyes. He had hugged Gaius tightly, and said a shaky goodbye to Merlin. He couldn't think about that anymore- he couldn't process it. He just needed to be outside, away from that tiny, cold room and all that blood.