Weep You No More Sad Fountains
"All humans will, without exception, eventually die."
Merlin was not sure if the battle had been lost or won.
He looked at the many bodies, covered by the crying mist. They made the landscape shine with the armour, gave it a few more shattered hills.
Merlin could feel his tears weeping from his eyes, the droplets silent. He looked into Arthur's, and saw that his own were like the colours of rain.
But what startled him, and made them flow more, was how Arthur's were still bright, their fire a worthy rival of sapphire, as he coughed and splattered, hanging to Merlin's frame as the sorcerer knelt.
They had met Mordred's army on the field of Camlann.
The battle was bloody.
Clashing of metal; sparks of magic. Cries of fury; wails of loss.
You cannot talk of loss, only experience it.
Merlin had wondered where Morgana was; she was not there.
And, in a moment when he was cornered and had to unleash all he had, then looked ahead of him, he saw Mordred lying on the ground, just another body, but his blade protruded from Arthur's side.
Merlin didn't know what he felt, only a sharp something, as he cried out, rumbled the earth and sped to Arthur to catch him as he fell.
So here they were, the only two left.
Arthur's face was limp, his features, his light fading.
'Come back to me!' Merlin pleaded, holding him closer, then tighter when he felt no reciprocation.
Arthur looked at him, sleepily, drowsily, with a half-smile, as much as his muscles could allow. He reached for Merlin's cheek; Merlin stunned, and wiped it slowly.
'Don't cry for me,' he whispered hoarsely.
'But I can't stop,' Merlin croaked.
When Arthur only smiled, and closed his eyes, Merlin reached for him again, to pull him back.
'We're destined for things greater than this, Arthur,'
Arthur's eyes opened, and with what strength he had, despite the pain, he leaned to kiss Merlin.
Merlin kissed him back.
He felt Arthur's breath, rosy against his lips, fading.
'Thank you, Merlin.'
'For what?' Merlin sobbed loudly, his voice breaking.
Arthur looked at him, looked closely, and found something beautiful.
'I'm not sure that you know, Merlin, that the reason I love you is-'
Arthur stopped, struggling internally, and it quaked in his bones.
Merlin, eyes wide, sought for more, gasping as if he couldn't breathe, 'Is?'
'You,' Arthur roughly spoke, and seemed content, 'Just you,' and in his eyes, Merlin saw fondness in abundance, no regrets as such, only that he had more time, or used what he had better, 'Being you,' he whispered on rocks on the exhale.
'I love you too, always have, always will, Arthur, always... Arthur?' He said, franticly caressing his face, soul in frenzy.
Arthur would have answered him, but his jaw muscles were clenched, his teeth gritted hard together. His heart was pounding within his chest like a small drum, not in its usual steady march but in a wild, arrhythmic abandon. He could feel every vein and artery in his body threading fire through his frame; if it was not ice that they pumped: he could not tell.
Merlin watched in silent horror, for once, powerless to prevent it.
Merlin froze, knew not what to do, and was numb.
His heart juddered and syncopated, and if it could scream, it would have.
Birds flew from the nearby trees, after being disturbed by a man's cry.
Merlin sobbed for a long time, allowing himself to lose his composure, his mind.
There was something disgustingly surreal about holding a limp body; one that you knew could be warm to touch.
Merlin looked around him, desperate, alone, and saw that it was dawn.
He looked to the snowy mountains, and saw how Heaven's sun did gently waste them.
Then he heard a voice within speak up.
Weep you no more, sad fountains: what need you flow so fast?
Sleep is a reconciling, a rest that peace begets:
Doth not the sun rise smiling
When fair at even he sets?
Merlin lay on top of Arthur's body, put his head to where his heart was, the chainmail icy.
Rest you then, rest sad eyes.
Melt not in weeping, while he doth lie sleeping.
Merlin sniffed, and his eyes started to dry.
Softly, softly, now softly,
He closed them, placing his hand in Arthur's cold one.
Softly lie sleeping...
You cannot say to the sun, 'more sun.'
You cannot say to the rain, 'less rain.'
They were bound, in life, to be separated.
But by some extraordinary kindness, destiny gave them a chance to be happy.
For these are not memoirs of an Emperor, nor are they memoirs of a Queen.
These are memoirs of another kind.
A/N: Well, I guess I'll say, 'The End' then.
I hope you enjoyed it and all, I certianly enjoyed writing it!
I want to thank all of my support for getting this out, so be prepared for a list:
chaz_collin for her awesome betaing, and for your general laid back, stressy nature helping me along.
silver_falcon24 for the !AMAZING! art, I love it all, the shades and everything and *insert crazy dance*
achelseabee for the !FANTASTIC! cover art, and for unknowingly inspiring me to even wrtie this with that piece ^_^
the_muppet for being just a brilliant mod and helper for everyone - who answered all my questions which I hope didn't kill them inside ;) x
Disclaimer/Influences: Oh my god! So many influences! Okay, first off, I do not own the quotes or Merlin: and some of the material in this story was either based upon or paraphrased from several sources, a few to be: Sense & Sensibility, Prdie & Prejudice, Emma, Jane Eyre, Taylor Swfit, Avril Lavigne & U2 lyrics, Avater:The Legend Of Aang/The Last Airbender (believe it or not), Stardust, Shakespeare, Memoirs Of A Geisha - I'm sure there's more, but that's all I can think of at the moment ;)
So, I guess I'll say, 'MerthurDreamer Out'