Kill me: I’ll write a Drabble about my character killing yours. ||
(dark verse)

‘You’re the only person who hasn’t betrayed me.’ Of everything he’d said to her that day, that statement was the one that stuck with her the most. The one that made her doubt herself more than she had started to doubt Merlin. Especially since she never doubted Merlin; she trusted the sorcerer more than she trusted anyone. But… He wasn’t himself anymore. He wasn’t Merlin, not the one Fen knew. He was ruthless and didn’t show a shred of pity as he destroyed Camelot. It had taken Fen a while to accept that her Merlin was gone and had been replaced by the cold, unforgiving Emrys, but she finally had to admit it when people started dying. Merlin would never have done or wanted that, no matter how bad the war on magic. Arthur had even started to buckle in a desperate attempt to save the lives of his people, but Merlin was too far gone. He wasn’t the kind boy who happened to have a big destiny anymore, but a tyrant and a murderer.
And Fen had to stop him. If she didn’t, he would slaughter the whole kingdom.
Late one night, Fen stood shaking in the dark. A sword was held tightly in her grasp, knuckles turning white as she gripped it. She stood there long enough to see the moon move out of sight of the window before finally walking to Merlin’s bed. With a loud sob, the Druid raised the sword above her head before bringing it down, watching as blood pooled around the blade. Letting go, Fen knelt beside him, sobbing and muttering apologies and pleas for forgiveness. She had prepared herself to die in case Merlin used his magic to take her with him, and she almost hoped he would. He was all she’d had, and even if she hadn’t killed him herself, the Merlin she loved was long gone. She had nothing anymore.
Tears mixed with blood and wails with dying gasps as the Druid went on one last adventure with her mentor.