Summary (too small a box imo) Arthur lashed out when he was angry, he always had, but the most recent outburst might be his worst yet. Merlin now lies dying, and all Arthur can do is battle with himself, at what he'd been brought up to believe about sorcerers. All Merlin wanted before he died was to explain and to say goodbye, so maybe, by some miracle he would be able to, as well as cease his King's troubled heart in the process...a spark ignites memories, they say.

Hello. Normal author's notes, I don't own Merlin sadly and this hasn't been beta'd so all mistakes my own. This will have short chapters, it's just the way I've written it, sorry. Hope you enjoy. :)

It was a widely popular belief that when you were stabbed, the world slowed down and all your senses ceased to work, sounds became muffled, lights became darker, and pain didn't kick in until much later on, when the adrenaline had stopped pumping. Or, at least, this was what Merlin was led to believe. He'd been injured before, a cut here or there, a bit of a nasty shoulder wound once, and he'd lost count of the head injuries, and they hurt, they all had, so how he had thought that an entire sword through his abdomen would be less painful flummoxed him entirely. This was one moment where the countless 'idiot' accusations thrown his way were about spot on; a sword, an entire blade, sharpened on all edges, meant to deal deathly blows, and he expected it to be quite a relaxing experience, nothing more than a light paper cut...clotpole indeed.

The slow motion came right before the sword plunged into his gut, right at the time Arthur strode towards him, anger and disappointment on his face, tears of shock long dried, replaced by bright red cheeks, wide sapphire eyes and one of the most terrifying war cries Merlin had ever witnessed come out of his mouth. It all moved so slowly he felt he should have been able to move out of the way, just, merely step to the side as Arthur barged past into the column behind. But it didn't work like that, it worked like one of those dreams where you're being chased, and the murderer or bad guy were going so slow it should have been a doddle to race out of their grasp, but you're going slow too, far more slower than you would like. Merlin always hated the sensation, it was like you were running your hardest, putting as much force into it as you'd ever put in before, but not one small movement was made, you were stuck, on that one spot, and if you did move off it, you moved only a centimetre in front of yourself. That was how it felt, to stand on the spot, shouting and screaming at his mind to just move, move you fool, step to the side, either side will do, just move! But he didn't, he couldn't. Arthur screamed, letting go of his fury as he moved forward, light catching his sword, glinting off and into Merlin's eyes, but he didn't react, he was frozen, his body was lead, and his gaze was stuck on the painful expression etched onto his friend's face. It was hard to pinpoint one, it moved through hundreds in mere seconds, but the one that hurt most was the betrayal. Never had he expected it to go well, Arthur finding out, he'd dreamed of it many times, nearly every night, but not one time did it end in Arthur smiling, accepting him and pulling him into a friendly hug- well, it did once, but the hug was a ruse and dream Arthur had stabbed him in the back, literally. Every single time it had hurt Merlin to see the anger on his King's face, but the look he was given, the real look painted on Arthur's face right there in that moment, had been like a thousand burning knives to his chest.

All he had thought would happen when the sword entered his body, the slowing down of time, the ceasing of his senses, occurred just before, in those few seconds that seemed like a lifetime right before Arthur stood in front of him and the tip of Excalibur protruded from his back. That all changed then, time seemed to speed up, his eyes hurt from the light, however dull it was in the darkened chamber, his ears screamed out in agony as a result of Arthur's fury just a few seconds prior and his head thumped with every heartbeat. He didn't cry out though, or scream, for his entire energy seemed to seep out of him and it was all he could muster to look into Arthur's eyes, those fantastically bright blue eyes, and whisper,

"I am so sorry."