To save a Prince

[Missing scene for The Gates of Avalon]

Arthur's armour was pulling them back down into the cold depths of the lake. There was only death awaiting down there, so Merlin tried with all his might to keep the Prince's head above water. If he could just pull him closer to the shore where he could find his footing, as it would be useless to even try and get Arthur's heavy chainmail coat off in the water. Merlin was a good swimmer, but his arms were giving in keeping the unconscious man up against his chest. He wasn't strong enough by far, and the water was cold enough to make his fingers go numb.

How ironic to save the Prince from Sophia and her father, while he actually hadn't saved him yet, and a dread feeling deep inside his stomach made him fear that it had all been for nothing. That his friend needed help right away, or he would still die, if he wasn't dead already. It had taken Merlin far too long to find him in that murky water, and he wasn't sure how long he had been under water to begin with, as Arthur had already disappeared when he had arrived at the scene.

Frustrated he pulled Arthur up again, which only resulted in Merlin going under swallowing a gulp of water that came out of his nose when he surfaced, coughing and spluttering but still holding on to his precious cargo.

A little voice inside his head seemed to wake up telling him that he should use his magic. That the Prince was out of it anyway, and it would be the best way to get him onto the shore. To get him home, to safety. Although Merlin wasn't sure if he could even muster a spell while concentrating on the man in his arms, he had been able to move objects since he was a little boy. With no use of a spell, with no effort at all.

Feeling his magic warming him, flowing through him like it always did, like a living entity that surrounded his body and soul, he cursed himself for not thinking about this in the first place. He would have been able to pull Arthur out of the water even without having to jump in himself. The royal prat was right, he surely was an idiot.

Trying to relax he felt his magic rolling upwards, and feeling the exact moment when it reached out, he pushed it all into Arthur, willing the body to get light, to float on the water like a piece of wood, to drift to the shore.

Merlin wasn't even sure if he had enough power to manage the task, but when Arthur's body in his arms instantly started to hover just above the surface, he couldn't stop a gasp of surprise. It was actually working.

Not wasting any more time he grabbed the Prince's arm, and while swimming with swift strokes back to the shore, he dragged Arthur behind him without much effort at all. The body even kept hovering just above to ground when Merlin, dripping wet, cold and desperate fell on his back on the moist grass suddenly feeling utterly exhausted.

There was no time to rest though, as he had to make sure that Arthur was still alive. His mind pulling back from the idea of being too late while he pushed his numb cold fingers to Arthur's neck, the way he'd seen Gaius do many times. He also bend over to check if Arthur was still breathing.

He could feel a faint movement, up and down in Arthur's neck, as well as a tiny bit of air brushing against Merlin's cheek, but it wasn't much. What if he had breathed in so much water that he was still drowning even lying here on the shore? Gaius had told him once that water would get into people's lungs and they could die, even after being saved. If he needed a healing spell more than ever, it was now.

Merlin felt tears well up in his eyes, staring down at Arthur's body hovering next to him looking so pale and fragile even. He was terrible at healing spells, and fear gripped his heart while he angrily whipped away the moisture from his eyes and cheeks. A shiver of cold was running down his back, and he swallowed.

He needed to stay calm, for Arthur's sake. Maybe there was another spell he could try? Not exactly a healing spell, but one that would perhaps drain Arthur's lungs of the water that was left there to kill him?

Quickly moving onto his knees, he lay his hands on the man's chest and concentrated. The fear and the cold all but forgotten, he again felt his magic take control. Pushing out like a wave of golden energy into Arthur's lungs.

"Forlætan égorstréam..."

There was total silence for a moment, as Merlin waited. It seemed to last forever, and just when he was about to despair Arthur mumbled something incoherent. The colour that had drained from his cheeks slowly returned, his breathing getting stronger and even.

Merlin let out a huge sigh of relief. Arthur was alive, and he had to believe that the Prince was going to be fine. Getting him back to Camelot would not be easy, but it was nothing compared to what he'd been feeling just minutes ago.

The idea of losing Arthur had been so utterly painful that Merlin couldn't even start to understand it, and he wasn't so sure he ever wanted to.

The prince was safe for now, that was all that mattered...