Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: This is a first for both this particular fandom and this type of fic. I'm trying something new to try and get me back in the habit of writing. I'll explain more at the A/N at the end if anyone's interested.

Warnings: Angst, possible character death.

Spoilers: None really, minor mentions of the goings on in 1x10, 2x09, and 4x02

Prompt: Exhaustion

Pairings: None

Rating: K

After all is said and done, Merlin is tired. He's seen hundreds die today, he's saved Camelot once more (and by Camelot, he means Arthur and Camelot), and all he wants to do is sleep.

And they just won't let him.

They keep calling his name over and over again, a never ending cacophony of voices all saying the same thing.




"MERLIN! Wake up!" a sharp sting to his face, blurry figures dancing above him. He's floating, though, and he wonders why they're so upset. He groans, the pull of darkness, the peace of sleep is just out of reach and if they'd just be quiet for one bloody moment, he might just-.

"Merlin, don't you dare die on me!"


Yes, he remembers now: he's been stabbed.

That's right.

And pain floods his system as his brain registers what he'd been blocking out in his floaty world of the abstract, almost consciousness.

He feels like he's on the edge of a cliff, grasping the precipice as he scrambles for a grip: to wake or continue sleeping. He knows what waking up will bring, and he's clinging to that rope, has been for a while now.

But he feels his hands slip, the rope sliding beneath raw hands slick with the blood of innocents: sorcerers and villagers, peasants and nobility, Freya, Will, and Lancelot...

The images above him flicker out of existence—or did he blink?—it's like watching a fire, and he knows he's going to get burned either way. He holds a little harder, he has a destiny after all.

He slips a bit further down the metaphorical rope, feeling the pain in his limbs short circuit into a dull cold numbness. He can't hold on, can't hold himself up—he can't do it alone.

But…well, he'd certainly tried.


The darkness is warm, peaceful, and filled with promise.

He falls.

A/N: So this is a drabble prompt experiment for me. I know a drabble is technically 100 words, but I'm going to ignore that rule and go with the flow. I'm hoping to make an update every other day if not daily. That being said, I will be happy to take requests (Non-slash, please).

Panda out.