Arthur almost found the fifth body in his own rooms.

There hadn't been a killing in nearly four months, and Arthur had been inclined to think that the killer had been scared off. He had sent off patrol after patrol hunting down enemies of Arthur and Camelot. He had tripled the presence of the royal guard in the castle and the town, and the town heaved under the effort of supporting them. He had torn Camelot apart in search of the killer.

He still dreamed about the faces of the boys- so like Merlin, and the ghastly missing body parts. Every day, he vacillated between sending Merlin far, far away to get him away from the killer and keeping him close to Arthur.

A month passed.

Two months.

Three.

Four.

Merlin always looked worn and thin. He couldn't go anywhere without someone with him- a knight or guard or Arthur himself. He had lashed out at Arthur many times, yelling that he could take care of himself.

Arthur knew he couldn't. He would never forget the look of sheer terror on Merlin's face as he sat there, so many months ago, huddled beside Gaius with blood on his face. They were fighting an intangible foe that could disappear in an instant- almost like magic.

The killer probably had magic, and Merlin (skinny, breakable Merlin) wouldn't be able to do anything against them.

He had taken to giving Merlin some excuse to stay with him until late at night. Sometimes Arthur would claim nightmares so that Merlin wouldn't leave his bed. They both knew Arthur didn't need anyone there to ward off the nightmares- he could go and see Merlin alive in his own bed and be content.

By the end of the fourth month, Arthur had almost relaxed his guard.

Merlin woke up in the well-guarded antechamber of Arthur's chambers at the end of the fourth month. For merely a second, he felt like almost safe under the cover of darkness.

Then, he felt a familiar dripping sensation on his forehead. He sat up abruptly, panicked, wiping the blood away from his face- but there was no blood, and it was only his fear-addled brain creating something out of nothing.

He was just so tired.

Three months passed.

It wasn't unusual for the Prince of Camelot to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of his manservant gasping and crying, yelling out at some person to stop.

The Prince would then go to his manservant and tug him close. They would fall asleep like that.

Sometimes the servant would confess:

"I don't know why I'm so afraid. It's just a threat, something I've faced a hundred times before. Why am I so afraid, Arthur?"

The Prince wasn't Gaius and didn't know what to say to that, except what he couldn't say out loud: That Merlin was his best friend, maybe his only friend, and that Merlin's loss scared him more than anything.

Two months longer passed. The harsh protection of winter passed into the hope that accompanied spring each year. The incident with the bodies was at the back of even Merlin's mind by then.

It was a fine spring day and there was something in the air that spoke of hope, new beginnings. He felt like he was shedding the weight of winter's fear, letting go of the stifling heat of summer and the death of fall- all that was left was the cool breeze across his face.

He was on his way to gather Arthur's breakfast one morning when three things happened in quick succession:

1. A crow cawed and swept down close by his face. Merlin jerked away and spun around.

2. A man threw himself away from Merlin, falling to the ground.

3. The man reached his hands towards Merlin, begging him to bring him to the king.

Merlin gave him a hand up. "Do you seek aid?"

"Yes." The man whimpered. He was nondescript- not too tall, not too short, with eyes that were an indiscriminate shade somewhere between grey and blue and weather-worn skin. A simple farmer, Merlin concluded, nothing more.

"From what do you seek aid? Are you in danger?"

"It is not I who is in danger," he paused, "I have received word from a man in my village that he plans to kill the king's manservant!"

Merlin paled and grabbed the man's arm, dragging him towards Arthur's chambers. "What is your name? Where do you come from?"

"I am Leopold, sire. I hail from a small village outside of Tintagel- Taernsby."

They reached Arthur's chambers a few short seconds later. Merlin flung the doors open without knocking.

"Arthur?"

Arthur wasn't there. He was probably out on the training fields already; Merlin was quite late, after all. He turned to Leopold to tell the man to follow him-

-And suddenly there were hands around his neck, choking the life out of him. He struggled against Leopold, his magic jumping to the surface to stop him. He was too slow. Already his vision was going hazy and he could only mumble a half-formed spell, and then everything faded to black.

When Merlin woke up a minute later, he couldn't breathe. He felt a piercing pain on his back, and realized that it was the bite of a blade carving into him. Merlin's head felt strange, like he was far underwater and couldn't come back up.

He must have managed to mumble a spell under his breath, because Leopold went flying backwards into the wall. Merlin heard a muffled crack and let himself sink back into unconsciousness.

Arthur had been having a brilliant day. His servant had been late, but he was up with the sun anyway. He felt free of responsibility and fear, and it was the best feeling in the entire world. Down at the training fields, he had been sparring against Leon and Gwaine and the adrenaline was still pumping cheerfully through his veins.

He went back to his chambers and his mood was still high. He opened his door, fully expecting Merlin to be there with his breakfast.

What he did not expect to see was his manservant lying on the ground, struggling to breathe. Next to him there was a peasant man whose breathing was ragged and uneven, teeth gritted in pain. Arthur took in the scene and ran past the peasant, calling for the guards. Then, he knelt next to Merlin, shaking him gently. The boy didn't wake.

"Merlin?" He asked. His voice was small, quiet, almost childish. The boy was still breathing, but it was obvious it hurt. And there was blood pooling under his back.

Ignoring the pained groans of the man across the room, Arthur scooped Merlin up and turned him over. Merlin whimpered lightly, and opened his eyes. He tried to speak, but instead made a horrible wheezing noise, unable to get enough air through his swollen throat. It broke Arthur's heart.

He bandaged up the wound, then placed Merlin on his bed, sending the guards for Gaius. Then, anger in his heart, he turned to the man contorted painfully in the side of the room. He was flickering in and out of consciousness. It looked like he had been thrown against the wall. He called out in a pained voice.

"The manservant is a freak." He spat out. "I was only being a patriot, Arthur Pendragon. I was only ridding your kingdom of magic, since you are too weak to do it yourself."

Arthur knelt next to him.

"What is your name?"

"L-Leopold."

"And you say you are a patriot? You think killing innocents is equivalent to patriotism?"

"They aren't innocents. They have magic!" Leopold spat. Arthur slapped him, hard, across the face.

"How dare you." He said, very softly. "How dare you! How dare you attack innocent people and call it patriotism."

Something flickered in Leopold's eyes. "You don't see it clearly, my Lord. Magic is evil and must be exterminated. Your manservant has magic."

"My manservant is a good man." Arthur said blandly. "But don't you have magic? How else did you kill all those boys without being caught?"

"My wife was killed by magic." Leopold sighed. "She was all I cared for, and she was torn away from me!"

"Why target Merlin?"

"When I arrived in Camelot, I was very naïve to the ways of courts and kings. Merlin looked a bit like the one who killed my Elaine, so I followed him around. I had already killed the one who killed her, but that wasn't enough. I didn't make him suffer enough, I had to go back and get it right. Imagine my surprise when Merlin goes out to the forest and ends up making the flowers dance across the sky! The instant I saw it, I knew he was evil."

"What about the other boys?"

Leopold closed his eyes. "I needed practice. I needed to get it right for my Elaine. I wanted the sorcerer to know what it feels to be hunted."

Arthur shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Guards! Please bring him to the dungeons." Then, he looked Leopold in the eye. "I will put you through trial because I am considered a fair ruler. But know that you will be convicted and you will be killed in the most miserable way I can dream up."

Leopold nodded. "I tried to save you, Arthur Pendragon. When the sorcerer takes away everything you love, know that you were warned."

Leopold was dragged from the room and Gaius entered. From there, it was a constant confusion of people everywhere. Merlin was brought from Arthur's bed to Gaius's chambers. Then George was there making him sit down and there were people scrubbing at the small pool of blood on Arthur's floor, and the image of Merlin lying there, small and broken, wouldn't leave Arthur's head.

For three days, no one dared disturb the king.

Gaius pressed healing droughts down Merlin's throat and pressed bandages against his back and within two days, Merlin could sit up and speak a little. Gaius's diagnoses was simple: Bruising around the throat that stopped him from talking and breathing too much and the knife wound to his back. Gwen visited, and Gwaine and the rest of the knights.

He waited for Arthur.

Arthur was conflicted.

Merlin was a good man. He knew that was a fact, same as the way that the sky being blue was a fact. Merlin was also a sorcerer, and thus evil.

Leopold had been interrogated and it confirmed what Arthur already knew- that he wasn't a sorcerer or a madman, just a regular peasant farmer driven half-mad by grief.

For three days, Arthur didn't speak to anyone or see anyone. His work piled up and still he sat and thought. At the end of those three days, he descended the castle steps and went to go see Merlin.

Merlin had been waiting on a visit from Arthur for several days before his friend finally came. He woke up from an artificially-induced nap to the feeling of someone rubbing circles onto the palm his hand.

"I had time to think about you. About your magic." Arthur said abruptly.

Merlin's mouth formed a perfect O. Arthur snorted.

"I see you didn't know I knew."

Merlin tried to rasp out an answer, but Arthur put a strong hand on his shoulder to stay him. "Don't worry about it. We'll talk about it later. For now, just know that I'm very, very angry and that you can expect to polish the entire army's boots as soon as you're well enough."

This time, Merlin did try to speak. A grin split his face nearly from ear to ear. "Arthur, I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you-"

"Of course you did. Idiot. Why on earth would you tell the king of a land that persecutes magic that you have it? Only you, Merlin."

Merlin relaxed. "Leopold?"

"I was going to have him tortured to death. I thought of so many terrible things I could do to him. But I didn't… I didn't have the heart to do it. He lost his wife, who he loved dearly. He was given a fatal dose of sleeping drought. It was quick, painless."

"Good." Merlin rasped. And then, to his embarrassment, he started to cry, chest heaving from the effort of taking in enough air. Arthur gathered him up into his arms, a comforting, familiar gesture.

"I promised I would protect you." he whispered, so quiet Merlin probably couldn't hear.

That night, they sat together and discussed many things- all but the red number one carved into Merlin's slender back.

Was that a happy enough ending? Anyone who has read my stuff knows that this is about as good as it's going to get.

I'll admit I have no idea how Gaius's (Gaius'?) name is supposed to be punctuated and my use of dashes is suspect, but overall this turned out better than I thought.

One anon asked about Merthur/non-Merthur. I wrote this as an intense friendship between the boys (in my brain, some days they are together and sometimes they aren't) but it can be read in any way you wish.