Arthur felt like he was climbing up out of a dark pit, not sure if he would be able to reach the light at the top. There was an intense, crushing pain in his chest. He could not remember a combat wound ever leaving him this weak. Memories came to him of the battle at the White Mountains – Morgana's forces overpowering them by sheer numbers, a dozen armed men coming at him. Certain this would be his last stand, he swung his sword to take as many Saxons with him as he could but his blade whistled through empty air when they were thrown backward. He turned to strike the enemies behind him only to see them also swept away as if by an invisible force. Nothing remained around him but a ring of dead Saxon soldiers. He searched to find what had defeated his foes. To Arthur's surprise above the valley stood the old sorcerer; the one whose actions nearly caused Gwen to be executed and then had escaped his own death sentence, the one who had killed Arthur's father. As he watched, the sorcerer used his magic to fell more enemy soldiers with a display more spectacular than anything Arthur had witnessed before.

Hearing a wailing screech, he looked up to see Morgana's dragon return to ravage his soldiers. The old man turned his attention to the creature, speaking in a commanding tone. Where Morgana had found such a monster, let alone compelled it to attack at her will, was another indication of her growing power – yet when the old man spoke the dragon immediately ceased its assault on the Camelot forces and flapped away, as vulnerable to his magic as the soldiers.

The Saxons, once confident in their greater numbers and with Morgana's sorcery to give them further advantage, began to weaken in their attack. The king had no chance to wonder at this new ally. Regardless of why the old man chose to help them, Arthur was not one to miss pressing an advantage in combat. He rallied his men and led a charge to rout the disoriented Saxon army. As the battle raged on the Camelot warriors fought with renewed courage, pushing the enemy forces back. That was when King Arthur came face to face with Morgana, Mordred at her side. He was shocked, hurt more by the boy's betrayal even than by Morgana's treachery. He had cared for Mordred as if he was a son, just as he had once cared for Morgana as a friend and sister. Not that his personal feelings would stop him from cutting them both down in defense of his kingdom and his people. As Arthur raised his sword, Mordred spoke in a strange tongue and Arthur felt his weapon fly from his grip.

Morgana looked at him with loathing and hate, her voice cold and mocking as she sneered, "Goodbye, dear brother." In the next moment she had thrust her sword into him. Why does she not kill me with magic, wondered Arthur. Then he felt an intense, burning pain in his side where the sword had struck. As he fell to his knees he saw both Morgana and Mordred thrown backward through the air by an invisible power. The old sorcerer was there, and as Morgana tried to get to her feet she seemed to be terrified of him. In deep unreasoning panic she screamed, "Emrys!" as the old man tossed her aside with another bolt of power. Weakly she lifted her hand to him in supplication.

"Is this truly what you wanted, Morgana?" the sorcerer asked. Arthur felt himself being dragged away, but did not remember anything more.

The darkness faded somewhat. He tried to open his eyes and look around. He was lying on the ground in a wooded area, not on the battlefield. There was a fire keeping him warm. And someone sitting by the fire. "Merlin!"

Immediately his servant rushed to his side. "How are you feeling?" A stab of pain shot through Arthur's body and he moaned. Merlin helped him to lie back.

"Where have you been?" Arthur asked.

"It doesn't matter now."

"My side," Arthur groaned.

"You are bleeding."

"That's all right. I thought I was dying." For some reason Merlin did not find that funny. He looked like he was barely holding back tears. Arthur had said to Merlin once that no man was worth tears, but he was touched that his friend would be devastated watching him die.

"I'm sorry. I thought I was in time."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur was in too much pain to puzzle out what his servant was babbling about now.

"I defeated the Saxons, the dragon, and yet I should have stopped Morgana sooner," Merlin said. Arthur recalled the sorcerer clearing his path of enemy soldiers, sending away the white dragon, and battling with his half-sister. The old criminal was clearly powerful, defeating Morgana in a duel of sorcery. Of course, she would survive and strike again, she always did.

Arthur patted Merlin's hand. Weakly he explained, "The person who defeated them was the sorcerer."

Merlin could barely speak through his tears but he choked out, "That was me."

Arthur wondered if his friend was truly addled this time. "Don't be ridiculous." Merlin just looked at him through his tears. "This is stupid. Why would you say that?" Arthur had no patience for riddles while he was in such agony.

"I'm …," Merlin controlled himself enough to say the words. "I'm a sorcerer. I have magic." That was impossible. Magic was evil, it corrupted the soul. Arthur had seen for himself what it did to Morgana. "And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you." No. It could not be that the person he trusted most in the world, had spent nearly every day of the past many years with, was secretly consumed with something as evil as magic.

"Merlin, you are not a sorcerer. I would know."

"Look. Here." Arthur was almost afraid to watch but Merlin pointed toward the fire. He said something unintelligible as he waved his hand and sparks coalesced into a lovely image of a dragon in flight, then dispersed. That was odd. It was almost like magic. Like Merlin had created it with a spell. But that would mean that Merlin was actually a sorcerer. And one strong enough to defeat Morgana and her dragon if what he said was true. Arthur looked around him for help but there was no one and he was too weak to move. He was trapped here with a sorcerer. Who was sitting right beside him.

"Leave me."

Merlin looked hurt. "Arthur?"

"Just … you heard."

When Gaius returned with the healing plants that he had managed to find, dodging enemy soldiers as he hunted through the woods, he found Merlin again sitting by the fire. The boy kept glancing over to where Arthur lay sleeping but it was obvious he did not know how to bridge the gulf that had opened between them with his confession and Arthur's rejection. He was also clearly – and rightfully – worried about Arthur's condition.

"Any change?" Gaius asked. Unspeaking, Merlin shook his head. "Let me see." Arthur appeared to be unconscious, his wound still seeping blood. Merlin took his worry and frustration out on the physician, criticizing Gaius' collection of remedies despite the danger he faced gathering what plants he had. The boy would be no help at all in this mood so Gaius sent him to water and feed the horses. They would need to leave soon in any case, they could not hide for much longer within enemy-held territory.

As soon as Merlin was out of sight, Arthur, who had only feigned sleep, grabbed Gaius' arm.

"He is a sorcerer!" he announced, hoping his physician could help him escape. Gaius waited patiently for the truth to sink in.

"You knew," Arthur laid back with a sigh. Of course, he thought, this was why Gaius would not renounce magic, why he had protected the old sorcerer. It was for Merlin.

"Arthur, he is your friend."

"I want him gone."

"There is no need to fear him."

"Send him away. He can take word to Camelot, to the knights. I need a physician right now, not a sorcerer."

"He can do far more than me. Far more than you can ever imagine." Gaius paused so the effect of his next words would penetrate the pain and anger. "Arthur, he doesn't just have magic, there are those who say he is the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the earth."

"Merlin?" A sorcerer, maybe, but his inept servant could not possibly be that powerful. Maybe this was all a dream after all.

"If you are to stand any chance of survival, you will need Merlin to help you, not me."

Merlin was feeding the horses as instructed. "Gaius?"

Gaius told Merlin the bad news – a fragment of sword was lodged inside Arthur and making its way inexorably to his heart. Magic would not heal him because the sword was forged in a dragon's breath. Merlin realized that Morgana had called on Aithusa to enchant the sword she had used.

"Its fatal power will not be easily denied," Gaius continued. "It would take a power as ancient as the dragons themselves."

Merlin paused in thought, considering the physician's words. As Gaius watched, a grin slowly stretched across the boy's face – the first smile Gaius had seen on him since Merlin had found and brought him here. "Then we need a dragon."

Together Merlin and Gaius moved Arthur to a clearing that was large enough for a creature of such great size to land and Merlin summoned Kilgharrah. It still amazed him to see the dragon land so quietly and easily as though it were almost invisible in flight despite its huge bulk. How often he had gone to the dragon for advice and aid and always he had responded, albeit sometimes grudgingly. Once again he needed the dragon's help, this time to heal Arthur. The last time they met, Kilgharrah had said that his life was near its end. What would Merlin do if he called and next time there was no answer?

Arthur watched in horror from his place on the ground as Merlin called out in a strange tongue that the great dragon seemed to both hear and obey and observed their familiar, almost friendly, conversation with each other. Arthur was helpless to stop what was happening. If he had been stronger he would have attacked both sorcerer and dragon.

Kilgharrah instructed Merlin on how to use dragon breath to draw out and destroy the fragment of sword. Merlin knelt beside Arthur and braced to protect them both from the dragon's fire. Arthur saw the monster aim its deadly breath at them, but it deflected around them like there was some kind of invisible shield. In the midst of the dragon's flames, Merlin used his magic to allow just a sliver of fire through the barrier. It touched Arthur's chest and began to draw out the sword fragment. The horrible pain eased almost immediately, although Arthur knew he was sorely wounded. When the fragment was lifted from Arthur's body Merlin used his magic and the dragon's fire to destroy it completely. Arthur felt the crushing agony subside although his wound was still bleeding. Merlin was relieved, proud, and overjoyed that his friend would survive until he saw Arthur's face. Arthur could not suppress a look of revulsion and fear.

Merlin bid Kilgharrah goodbye. "This is the last time we will meet, young warlock. I am glad to have known you."

Merlin was both touched and sad. "I will remember you, old friend," he promised, remembering their last conversation. Merlin wondered if there was more he should say, but the dragon quietly rose into the air. He watched him go, then turned to see Arthur staring at him narrowly.

"I couldn't let you die."

Arthur turned his head away. "It doesn't change anything."

Merlin found Gaius waiting at the edge of the clearing. He knew Gaius had heard. "You were right to tell him." How did Gaius always know what he needed to hear?

They packed the horses with what little they had, knowing they would have to avoid enemy Saxons in making their way back to territory controlled by Camelot forces. As they journeyed, Arthur was weakened but he knew his wound would heal. His mind, however, was full of images of Merlin as an old man throwing grown men around the battlefield as if they were dolls, speaking in a strange language that dragons obeyed, and facing off against Morgana, the most powerful sorceress Arthur knew. Someone who claimed to be a priestess of the old religion. He thought about all the times he had bravely fought with his renowned skill as a warrior while Merlin stood behind him and he wondered if his servant had ever needed his help or protection. All the times Merlin was beside him as they attempted some dangerous feat, was Merlin ever in any danger? When he swore he would protect Arthur and die at his side, did he face any threat at all himself? What power did Merlin command and were there any limits to what he could do? Who could ever stop him if he chose to use that power for his own benefit?

As the three of them crossed an open stretch of ground they saw two riders approaching. Merlin dismounted to throw his blanket over Arthur in an attempt to cover the king's armour and sword.

"I'll deal with them," he said to Arthur and Gaius. "Keep your heads down and don't speak." There was no question in any of their minds what the result would be if the Morgana's soldiers got their hands on Camelot's king.

Merlin pretended to flag down the enemy soldiers. "Help us! Please, you have to help us!" The two riders were indeed armed Saxon soldiers. "We were ambushed."

The soldiers did not look like they believed Merlin. "By who?"

"Two men." Merlin noticed that the hilt of Arthur's sword was visible under the blanket. He hoped the soldiers had not looked closely.

"What did they look like?"

Merlin hesitated, trying to think up a believable lie that would convince the Saxons they were on the same side. "One was a knight." He gestured to the forested valley below. "They stormed our camp." In a blink a curl of smoke was rising up from the trees. While the soldiers investigated the forest below Merlin tucked the sword hilt under the blanket which covered Arthur.

The Saxons turned back. "You sure it was a Camelot knight?"

"Yeah." The lead soldier walked over to King Arthur, still seated on his horse, and threw off the blanket, exposing a Camelot knight in full armour wearing the royal sword. But even as the soldier drew his weapon Merlin lifted his hands, killing both Saxons and throwing them backward several paces through the air to land without moving again.

Arthur did not make any attempt to fight but only watched Merlin's every move. "You have lied to me all this time." The accusation sounded more like a statement of fact. Merlin did not look back at the king or make any response. There was nothing he could say.

Arthur refused to allow Merlin to assist him dismounting when they made camp that evening. As Gaius helped Arthur to a place he could lie down and then redressed the wound, Merlin gathered wood and attempted to light a fire. Watching him struggle to kindle the wood, Arthur asked why he did not use magic. It sounded like a challenge, or a test.

"Habit, I suppose." Merlin looked questioningly at Arthur who nodded at him to proceed. As Arthur watched flames sprang up at Merlin's glance.

"Feels strange," Merlin said. It was the first time he had ever deliberately used magic in front of the king with no attempt to hide his power.

"Yes it does," Arthur agreed, staring at the fire, wondering if even now he had really believed that his most trusted friend was in fact one of those wicked people he had all his life been taught to hate.

Gaius laid down and Merlin spread out his own blankets.

"I thought I knew you."

Merlin looked back at Arthur who was staring at him intently as if trying to figure out who this stranger was. "I'm still the same person."

"I trusted you."

Merlin was not sure how to respond. "I'm sorry," is all he could think to say.

"I'm sorry, too." What Arthur was sorry about he did not voice. Abruptly Merlin stood and removed Arthur's boots, setting them close to the fire.

Arthur was surprised by the action. "What are you doing?"

"They need drying." It was a mundane task Merlin had done hundreds of times but Arthur was disconcerted by this enigmatic stranger acting like the servant he had thought was his friend. He tried to sleep.

The next morning Merlin made breakfast as Gaius treated Arthur's wound. Merlin brought a bowl for Arthur. "This will be good for you. You need to eat."

Merlin knelt beside him and offered the bowl of food to Arthur but he only looked at him as though it were poison and spit out, "Why are you doing this? Why are you still acting like a servant?"

Merlin set down the bowl and looked Arthur directly in the eye as he said quite seriously, "Because it is my destiny, as it has been since the day we met."

Arthur could not help but recall the peasant boy confronting him in Camelot's street and refusing to back down despite Arthur's evident skill and training. "I tried to take your head off with a mace," he smiled slightly at the memory.

"And I stopped you. Using magic."

It dawned on Arthur. "You cheated!"

"You would have killed me."

"I should have." At that sobering thought Merlin handed Arthur the food and left to eat his own breakfast.

After they had been riding some hours Merlin stopped his horse and held up his hand. "There is a camp ahead." He used his magic to see who was ahead of them. It was a camp of Camelot knights. "The knights are ahead of us," he announced to the other two.

"How do you know?" Arthur wanted an answer this time.

"I can see the path ahead," Merlin admitted.

"So you're not an idiot, that was another lie."

Merlin looked back and smiled. "No, just another part of my charm."

Before they could reach camp the sentries identified who was approaching and knights rushed to assist King Arthur. Gaius and Merlin hesitated, wondering what Arthur would do or say now. The law demanded that both of them be executed, Merlin simply for having magic and Gaius for sheltering him, and the king had the power to pass that judgement.

Arthur immediately took command of the garrison, with great relief. It felt good to be on familiar ground with people he knew. People whose skills and talents he was comfortable with. People he could lead. He wondered if he should tell them to arrest Merlin as a sorcerer, but for reasons he could not name it did not seem the right thing to do.

On the return journey to Camelot Arthur and Merlin did not exchange a word, nor did Merlin make any attempt to ride next to the king as he had usually done. He admitted to himself that he had always hoped when the time came his friend would accept him for who he was, even thank him once Arthur realized all that Merlin had done for him. Despite everything Arthur had been taught to believe in, he did not accept everything his father said without question. Merlin had been certain that their friendship would overcome prejudice. Gaius watched Merlin sympathetically as they followed the troop.

On their arrival in Camelot Gwen was overjoyed to be reunited with Arthur. His wound was still sore so Gaius accompanied them to treat the injury while Merlin quietly went about his duties not knowing what else to do. By the end of the day, Arthur had not said one word to Merlin. It was obvious to Gwen that something was wrong between them but she had no clue as to what had happened. Gwen stood beside Arthur who lay in his bed, his wound dressed. She thanked Merlin for bringing the king home safely.

Merlin nodded and looked at Arthur. "Will there be anything else, Sire?"

"No. You may go."

As soon as Merlin had been dismissed, Gwen turned a puzzled look on Arthur. He considered what he should tell her. He realized here was the one person he could confide in whose advice would possibly help him out of this maze where his thoughts kept going around in circles. Merlin was his trusted friend, Merlin was a sorcerer who had lied to him. Lied to him for years. He had thought Morgana was his friend but she had betrayed him, waged war on Camelot, and repeatedly attempted to claim his crown. Arthur had trusted his uncle, Agrivaine, but his true allegiance was with Morgana. Arthur had trusted Mordred but that was also misplaced. Even Gwen had betrayed him once. He had thought Merlin was the one person he could trust absolutely and now he knew that was all a ruse.

Finally he looked at Gwen and said simply, "He has magic."

"Who?"

"Merlin is a sorcerer." Gwen wondered if she had heard correctly. Then it all started to make sense. Merlin had always been at Arthur's side, he would of course have been with him in the battle. But he hadn't been there, it was the sorcerer who had helped them win their victory. A sorcerer that Gaius had known. Could it be …