It's a good thing, tears never show in the pouring rain
As if a good thing ever could make up for all the pain

"You're a sorcerer," Arthur accused.
Merlin nodded faintly, not looking Arthur in the eye, not having the strength to. He'd never betrayed Arthur, never harmed him, but none of that mattered. The fact was, he had magic, and Arthur could not love him.

There'll be no last chance to promise to never mess it up again
Just the sweet pain of watching your back as you walk
As I'm watching you walk away
And now you're gone, it's like an echo in my head
And I remember every word you said

"I can't trust you anymore, Merlin." Arthur said.
His voice was cold, bitter, and it pierced straight through Merlin's heart and broke him. His mouth fell open and he made to speak, to say anything at all to make Arthur change his mind, to make Arthur love him again - but his words got caught up in lungs, and he found he could say nothing, do nothing, but watch Arthur end him.

It's a cold thing, you'll never know all the ways I tried
It's a hard thing, faking a smile when I feel like I'm falling apart inside
And now you're gone, it's like an echo in my head
And I remember every word you said

"You are to leave Camelot at sunrise, and never return again." Arthur's voice was calm and cool as he spoke, as if it was no longer Merlin he was speaking to but a stranger, someone he no longer wanted to know, and Merlin hated everything about it. He hated that Arthur could give up on him just like that, could let him go so easily.

"No." Merlin answered, quietly, and when Arthur raised an eyebrow daringly, questing, "no?", he smiled at him weakly.
Merlin would love Arthur for the rest of his life and there was no point denying it.

And you never were, and you never will be mine
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

For a while, Arthur sounded almost desperate. "Don't-"
Merlin didn't care. Arthur would no longer look at him, no longer acknowledge him, and he couldn't live with it. Didn't want to live with it.
This was his destiny, after all. He had no way out of it - it wasn't ever his choice. He didn't need to justify it, it just was. He loved Arthur. It would always be that way. And he knew Arthur wouldn't forgive him.
It was the way things were. The way things were written to be. Merlin would love Arthur unconditionally, and Arthur would hurt him, but Merlin would go on loving him regardless.

For the first time, there is no mercy in your eyes
And the cold wind is hitting my face and you're gone
And you're walking away (away)

Arthur's eyes were cold and merciless as they fixed on Merlin. Merlin let the tears stream freely down his cheeks, but he wouldn't look away from Arthur's eyes. There was so much hatred and anger there, that Merlin could not see the love behind them. He yearned to hold Arthur one last time, but it was clear that the king had made up his mind. Arthur had pushed Merlin out of his life for good, and he wasn't going to let Merlin into his heart anymore.

The fire started slowly and kept building, it climbed around Merlin and hugged at his body. It was hot and unbearable, but Merlin didn't stop it. There was no point of living anyway, if Arthur didn't want him anymore.

And I am helpless sometimes
Wishing's just no good
'Cause you don't see me like I wish you would

"I love you," Merlin said.
The fire had reached his chest now, and it was almost eating away at his heart, but he spoke anyways, because he couldn't bear dying without forgiveness.
"I love you." His whole being shook with it, fighting for Arthur to claim him, to react.
"I love you."
Merlin wanted to say it now, for all the times he couldn't before, wanted to let Arthur know just how much he cared for him. For all the times Arthur thought Merlin had hurt him, for the lies, for every time Arthur remembered, and for the life of him, couldn't forget. For all of the pain Merlin put him through. Merlin wanted to be accepted, but more than that, to be loved. And even if it was his dying moment, he just wanted to let Arthur know that it was okay, that it was alright to love him back. Because Arthur did - Arthur loved Merlin as much as Merlin loved him, and he had proved it every time he had tried to sacrifice himself in place of Merlin. It was in his eyes, in his features, in the gentle way he held and touched Merlin, but sometimes - sometimes Merlin wished it could be more. He yearned for Arthur to his dying breath, yearned for some retrospect, an ounce of all the love he held for Arthur. "Do you love me, Arthur?" he asked, not wanting to hold back any longer. He wanted to hear it before he passed, for Arthur to utter his name, to be his - if only for a second. And Merlin persisted with it as his dying wish, waiting to rest but not before he made Arthur tell him, to assure him that he did hold a place in his heart. Mostly, Merlin was just scared that he had spent his life cherishing someone who had never cared.
"I love you, Arthur." He whispered one final time when Arthur had said nothing, and tore his eyes away from his prince's. His eyelashes fluttered once, twice, against his pale cheeks, and then all at once, he stilled.

Arthur had cried, and hugged Merlin's lifeless body tightly, refusing to believe that Merlin was really gone. He kissed Merlin's eyes, his cheeks, and finally, his lips, whispering his pleas into Merlin's skin, and "don't leave me, Merlin, I do love you, I do," until he was sobbing, burying his head into Merlin's neckerchief and heaving with grief.

'Cause you never were, and you never will be mine
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

Leon had stayed with Arthur the night of the funeral, resting his hand on Arthur's shoulder and looking at him sympathetically, but as soon as midnight came he had left, and there was no one to stay with Arthur the way Merlin had. Merlin's corpse was peaceful, his whole being at peace and he was as beautiful as ever, and Arthur really did love him, he just didn't know to what extent until Merlin was forever gone. He had always known losing Merlin would hurt, he just hadn't imagined the pain would he so much stronger than any he felt before.

Arthur fell asleep staring at Merlin's fading form, and his dreams were filled of his friend's familiar features, Merlin's sweet voice and caring touch, and his presence was just as comforting as it had always been, with that very same feel that Merlin always had with him wherever he went - the way he could make any one love him and could love anyone in turn, so forgiving and loyal, and utterly lovely.
In Arthur's dream, Merlin smiled warmly and held his hand, and when Arthur grasped at him gasping "stay, please, stay," he had only kissed him, his smile growing. When Arthur looked at him again, Merlin was no longer pale, but his skin was glowing. He looked angelic, and he was radiating beauty, it melted off of him and filled the air around him. It was everywhere, even digging into Arthur's skin and he let it. He let himself savor Merlin, Merlin's presence, Merlin's heavenly touch. Merlin didn't utter a word the entire night, but his eyes spoke wonders.

There's a moment to seize every time that we meet
But you always keep passing me by
But you never were and you never will be mine
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

Ever since, the dreams would come and pass but never fully halt. Merlin was always the same, beautiful in a way beyond human nature, content, and loving. Mostly, Arthur would beg, "come back to me," and "please, Merlin, please," but Merlin would say or do nothing in response, but kiss him more passionately. Once, Arthur had declared his affection, "I love you, Merlin," he had cried, but Merlin just laughed. It was a stunning sound, graceful and elegant and unhuman-like in every way, and the most breath-taking thing Arthur had ever heard. Afterwards, Arthur would be confused, and so he'd keep begging, but even less often would Merlin look at him sternly, only bringing his lips away from Arthur's to look into his eyes in all seriousness, and say, "soon." Those nights, Arthur would wake up anxious and find his heartbeat racing, his palms sweaty, but he never knew when 'soon' was. Merlin was still dead, or at least, to the rest of the world he seemed to be, and Arthur was still alive.

There's a moment to seize everytime that we meet
But you always keep passing me by
No, you never were, and you never will be mine

Arthur passed away two years after Merlin's death, on the morning of Merlin's annual memorial. It was a few months before his wedding, a night he dreaded for he was only marrying for convenience. It was Leon who found him - for he never could bear to get a manservant after Merlin had passed - and he swore that Arthur was glowing, and for some people, the smile that had never left Arthur's corpse was enough proof of Leon's word. He was buried by Merlin's side because people knew it was only right - Arthur visited Merlin's grave every day since he passed, bringing him flowers and sometimes talking to him softly or in hushed whispers. Merlin and Arthur were together for the better part of their life, and there was no reason for them to be apart in death. No one would know whether they were finally together at peace or not, but it was no doubt that they would grow around each other, pulling each other closer as time went by and winding around each other eternally, as they always had.