Another Merlin/Morgana fic to a Florence and the Machine song. There's Arthur/Merlin if you squint. Angst, away.

It's the ultimate sacrifice. The blood of kin is needed to save the king.

Rabbit Heart

The looking glass, so shiny and new
How quickly the glamour fades
I start spinning, slipping out of time
Was that the wrong pill to take? (Raise it up)

Magic comes with a price. She never would have thought it would come to this. They're in Avalon, once shining and grand, with High Priests and Priestesses, sorcerers from the five kingdoms congregated in the same place. Now it's in ruins. Nothing shines, and marble crumbles. The King lies, lifeless, on the dusty stone floor. Merlin, the ever loyal servant (because that is how he'll always see himself, despite being an official member of court, now) tends to his wounds, trying to stop the inevitable.

It feels like yesterday when she first met Arthur, the little blond boy who later turned out to be her brother. She looks to the sorcerer, eyes shining with regret.

"Just do it, Merlin," her voice is soft, almost pleading.

You made a deal, and now it seems you have to offer up
But will it ever be enough? (Raise it up, raise it up)
It's not enough (Raise it up, raise it up)

He looks at her with sad blue eyes. Her heart crumples. She's the one who broke his spirit. Once so young and optimistic, now old and cynical.

"There must be another way," he says with such conviction that she wants to believe him. There's no hope to find a way around what they need to do. She is the master of her own fate, and she's accepted the fact that she must die so the King can live.

"You know what Kilgarrah said. It's okay, Merlin. It's the right thing to do," she offers a weak smile. To save the King, they must make a sacrifice. A life for a life, a life who has the same blood as the King. She's resigned to her fate. It's time for her to atone for her sins.

"I will never forgive myself," he looks at her desperately, hoping she'll change her mind. He hates the hand destiny has dealt him. Morgana finally joins their side in the battle after years of hatred, but now she must die for her brother to live. He's being selfish in wanting to save her, he knows. It's either his love, or his best and closest friend. His life had finally reached the culmination of each sadistic choice he's been forced to make for the past decade. He never asked for his powers, for his duty as Arthur's protector. He doesn't want that burden, because each time he makes a choice, pieces of his heart crumble, bit after bit.

She looks at him, pale, thin, tired, and so much older than the girl she used to be.

"It's my choice," she says simply.

Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl
Frozen in the headlights
It seems I've made the final sacrifice

She fights the tears welling in her eyes. She can't live knowing her brother's life is more important than hers. Camelot and Albion need their King, not his bastard half-sister witch. She's finally doing the right thing after years of fighting. Fighting Uther, fighting Arthur. She should have seen the light years ago. Now she has her chance to make things right.

We raise it up, this offering
We raise it up

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

She hands Merlin sheets of paper. Letters. To him, to Arthur, to Gwen. Apologies and pleads for forgiveness. Merlin reads the letter addressed to him, eyes turning red from unshed tears. His hand covers his mouth and he looks at Morgana with the most heartbreaking look, it's almost enough to get her to change her mind. Almost.

Dearest Merlin,

It pains me to leave you now that we're finally together, but this is for the best. Arthur needs to survive for Camelot to reach its golden age. If my life is needed to ensure the happiness of countless people and the health of my brother, so be it. Please, forgive me, my love, for the pain I've caused. You saved me, giving me the greatest gift of all-redemption. This is the right thing to do. I know Arthur will be a just ruler with your guidance.

I love you.

"You and Arthur are meant to do better things, you don't need me," she whispers earnestly, believing in the future awaiting them.

"I can't kill you, Morgana, I can't," Merlin sobs.

Her shoulders shake with unshed tears and she finally lets herself cry. She digs into the pockets of her cloak, brandishing a dagger. Her dagger, that was a gift on her birthday all those years ago.

"Don't think of it as killing me," she offers a weak, watery smile, "think of it as saving Arthur."

I look around, but I can't find you (raise it up)
If only I could see your face (raise it up)
Instead of rushing towards the skyline (raise it up)
I wish that I could just be brave

"I've already cast the spell on it from the book, please, just get it over with," she tries to hand Merlin the dagger. He shakes his head, not taking it. It's glowing, golden and red.

"Please, please," she begs, finally placing it into Merlin's shaking hand.

"No, no," he keeps repeating. He grips the dagger tightly, white knuckles becoming whiter.

She steels herself, ready. She tries to be brave. This is for the best.

I must become a lion hearted girl
Ready for a fight
Before I make the final sacrifice

She had been so confident, so fearless when she was younger. Now years of solitude and regret have caught up with her. She tried to drown herself once, in the river, after another thwarted attempt at conquering Camelot. She couldn't die in peace, though, when Merlin dragged her out of the water and onto shore, reviving her before kissing her. A kiss full of years of pent-up affection, confusion, and anger.

Since then, she has apologised to Merlin, offering her help in defeating Mordred. Needless to say, he and Arthur were suspicious at first, but soon she she spoke the truth. The King had his sister back, and Merlin his...she doesn't even know. Girlfriend seems too juvenile a word, lover too vulgar, and betrothed too stuffy. Love, she acknowledges. She's Merlin's love. Sometimes she thinks she loves Merlin more than he loves her, but the expression on his face says otherwise. Her heart shatters.

He regards her with those big blue eyes and she feels her courage quickly fading. She needs him to do this, now, before she lets herself become lost in his eyes and allow him to let her live.

We raise it up, this offering
We raise it up

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

His gaze goes between her and Arthur. The King's skin cools, turning paler by the minute, injuries too fatal and magically induced for regular magic to cure. They both know that the only way to ensure Camelot's happiness and prosperity is to end the life of Morgana le Fay.

Merlin grips the dagger tightly in his fist, hugging Morgana to his chest. She cries freely, accepting her fate. He kisses her lips, one last time. It's the taste of Merlin's lips, the warmth of his arms, and the sun on her skin, that she'll take to the grave.

Raise it up, raise it up
Raise it up, raise it up

And in the spring I shed my skin
And it blows away with the changing wind
The waters turn from blue to red
As towards the sky I offer it

"Goodbye, my love," she whispers, pressing her lips to his with utter and complete finality.

He lets out a choked sob, and summons the words of the Old Religion. She can't close her eyes, because she wants him to be the last thing she sees before leaving him forever.

"I promise, I will find you again," his voice is hoarse and mournful.

No. She can't bear to see a crying and desperate Merlin as her final memory of him.

"I know you will," she says softly, closing her eyes. She imagines him smiling, early in the morning as they wake in her chambers, laughing and practicing magic. Yes, it's a far better image to remember.

"I'm so sorry, love," he murmurs. She opens her eyes, resigned to her fate. Her time on earth has finally come to an end, and she's content to go. She'd be happy to go even, only if she wasn't leaving Merlin behind. Green meets blue for the last time, and she smiles, because his eyes are so blue, like the sky above them.

The silver dagger, glowing with magic, strikes her back. She falls limp in Merlin's arms, eyes closed. He hugs her close, crying. He's a monster. A few feet away, Arthur gasps for breath, sitting up.

It takes him a moment to comprehend what has just happened.

"No," he shakes his head. He wants to lash out at Merlin for doing this just to save him, but he can't. Because his pale face is streaked with tears, thin, emaciated frame shaking uncontrollably, and a dead Morgana in his arms. His sister is gone, all because she wanted to save him.

She already had his forgiveness. She didn't need to do this. She was always so stubborn, set on doing what she thought she was right. Now her sense of righteousness led her to death. He wipes tears from his face, not wanting to appear weak, but he can't help it when his sister is gone and his best friend looks like he's been dead and back.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

The King and Queen read their letters, unable to suppress tears. Guinevere is an emotional wreck, mourning the loss of her closest friend. Her mind races, thinking of the ways she could've helped her, only to stand aside and watch Morgana self-destruct. The Lady Morgana died a hero, having won back the love of the people. Gwen would rather have Morgana alive and disliked by the court, still trying to capture Camelot, than dead and beloved by the people.

"Merlin," she says suddenly, tearing her eyes from the paper. Arthur looks at her in fear. He knows that she's concerned about his well-being and mental health just as much as he is. Arthur knows of the losses Merlin has had to live with for years, finally knowing the truth of just what Merlin's sacrificed to save his sorry hide time and time again.

Everyone Merlin loves, he loses. Will, Lancelot, Freya, his father, Gaius, his mother just last year, Gwaine during the battle, and now Morgana.

"No!" Arthur shouts, jumping from his seat in his and Gwen's chambers.

He rushes out of the castle, brushing past guards and the few knights that were left. Gwen chases after him as fast as she could in her dress, following.

After a quick ride into the woods, they find him. They're at what he's been referring to as "Morgana's river" in his mind.

He looks so peaceful in the water that Arthur just wants to pretend he's taking a swim to relax. He steps closer to his friend, breathing heavily. Morgana's letter is crumpled in his fist, dripping wet.

The Queen lets out a strangled cry and her hand flies to cover her mouth. She crumples onto the ground, sobbing. The King falls to his knees in agony, not being able to do anything but stare at his best friend's body. He finds another letter on the grass, in Merlin's handwriting.

Dear Arthur,

You may be my king, but you'll always be a dollophead to me. Words are not enough to express how sorry I am, but I can't go on like this. I know you're out a magical adviser now, but I'm sure the Druids will be willing to help you, should you need it. You're a great king, Arthur, and you're going to be an even greater king without me. I've done what my destiny has foretold. Camelot is yours and Albion united. May you and Gwen live long and prosperous lives.

Your friend,
Merlin

Arthur wants to knock some sense (or life) into him. He can't be gone. He CAN'T. He's the King, he forbids it. His eyes are trained on Merlin.

"Come on, Merlin. Just come back. You're so good at that, coming back when I think I've lost you. Just come back. Please," he whispers to no one, "I need you," he admits even quieter. He's always known he's needed Merlin by his side, now it was too late to tell him in person. He will be lost without Merlin, because the man was his conscience, friend, and closest adviser. Who else would call him a prat or dollophead or toad when need be? No one.

"Goodbye, Merlin," he says quietly, staring at his lifeless body in the river, "Goodbye."

His voice cracks at the final goodbye. A lone, solitary tear rolls down his face. He stands slowly, walking over to Guinevere, who's sitting on the grass, arms wrapped around her knees, knees pressed to her chest. She looks at him with sad brown eyes and it takes all his self-restraint not to start crying. He is the King of Camelot, he can't cry out in the open.

But he's crying for Merlin. Merlin's always the exception to everything he has ever believed and thought, so it makes sense that even in death, Merlin would be the exception.

This is a gift

Well, that was a downer, wasn't it? Please review and let me know what you think. This could be considered as a continuation/finale to "Regrets" if you want.