~ It's the end. Two months since I've updated but I worked hard and here you have it. No amount of apologies will make it up, but I really hope you're happy with it. 3 ~

He was moving through the forest quicker and quieter than he had ever carried himself before. Merlin knew his course, felt it like the magic in his veins calling to him like a sweet trilling lullaby on the wind. Morgana would've been informed of his "fate" by now and would be marching gathered armies to the heart of Camelot, there was only one chance to save Arthur, the Kingdom, and Albion. Merlin had to go to the heart of magic, its birth place. The Crystal Cave.

As the young warlock crossed the threshold between the ancient monuments of the Kings of Old, and into the valley, Morgana's forces were moving. Tens of thousands of men marching for Camelot's borders from Cenrid's Kingdom, her calculating green eyes set on the castle of white stone. The cruel Mercian king sat alongside her on his stallion, thinking only of the power and riches the next few days would lay before him, after taking the thrown from the crazed sorceress.

Arthur was awaiting Agravaine in the throne room, he knew what he had to do and he wouldn't have any regrets or second thoughts. His Uncle was a murderous traitor who would no longer befoul the halls of his kingdom. The golden Pendragon sat proud on the throne Gaius, Leon, Percival and the rest of the knights backing him, he was immensely grateful for their presence. Though the lack of one presence was fixed heavily in his chest.

The wide oak doors boomed open thudding against the walls, a furious Agravaine stormed forward his face a horrid contortion of rage. "What is the meaning of this?! You dare leave your rooms?"

"The guards escorted me from my rooms. It seems not as many people agree with you as you might think." Arthur's voice was steady and calm.

"I am aspirant to the Throne you have no right-"

"I have the only right!" Arthur interrupted bitterly. "I am the true heir to the Throne of Camelot," the man lorded rising from his seat, "And by the laws of these lands you are sentenced with treason. Divulging royal secrets to our enemies is treachery to the Crown. You have disgraced our name and I hereby revoke all titles and exile you from these lands, on penalty of death upon return." He finished, meeting the greasy former lord's eyes dead on and calling for the guards.

They dragged him away as Agravaine's face turned an unhealthy shade of red, "you will all meet your demise all of you! At the hand of my mistress!"

"I'll be waiting." Arthur said with finality.

Agravaine let out a howl of uncontained rage that was cut off by the abrupt closing of the heavy doors.

Arthur looked to his companions, sighing heavily as he brought a hand unknowingly to the pendant around his neck caressing the smooth stone.

"I believe there is a last thing to be done, Sire. Best do it before her army is at our door." Gaius said, nods from the others following his words.

"Your right Gaius, let us prepare. I fear Camelot's darkest days lie ahead." Arthur stated darkly. "All we can do is give our people a little light."

"What're they going on about?" Gwaine mumbled, to Elyan who shook his head unbelievingly.

Merlin ventured deeper into the Valley of the Fallen Kings and as he did, he felt it. The soft thrumming heightening his senses the closer he got. He slid over moss covered rocks, thundered over fallen leaf litter, and swung around great trees hurtling toward his destination with determined purpose to see his king again.

Soon the sensation was overpowering and he knew with certainty that the dark entrance up ahead was why he came all this way. He'd need everything he had and more to save Camelot and he knew this is where he would find it.

Without second thought he plunged into the darkness, managing to navigate the darkness with a whispered incantation. The small white light in the palm of his hand penetrated the pitch of the cave. It wasn't long before he reached the main antechamber, just a few twists and turns and he was there standing among the very cave that the crystal of Neahtid was hewn from. The clusters glowed and shimmered with an ethereal light that somehow felt homely to Merlin.

It was like the earth knew his reason for coming, humming beneath his feet. Power untold embedded into every fibre of existence, and Merlin could feel it, but more than just a sensation of touch. It was everything combined, taste, smell, sound, sight, everything hyper and on edge.

The azure orbs sparked with gold as they locked onto a gleaming crystal, he collapsed to the stone floor bringing himself face to face the surface that swam with images. The white stone of Camelot's walls was blackened with ash, fires raged through the lower towns, screaming women and children hewn like trees by Mercian broadswords. The image changed to the evil curl of a sorceress's lips as a golden crown fell clattering to the floor, the deadly sharp blade a promise of death against the column of the King's throat. His eyes were pools of defiance and grief, Merlin felt the air leave his lungs.

It changed again and the crimson cloaks of the knights of Camelot knelt before the stairs of Camelot morose eyes devoid of hope as they watched the scarlet bleed down the marble white stairs of their lost kingdom.

A terror filled noise echoed through the vast and dark cave, the raven haired boy scrambled from the horrible image in the stone gasping for breath. The terrible future that had been revealed. The future he had to change, but how? He was lost in the dark, the previous times he had tried to change the foreseeable future had ended badly wrong. The Kingdom was at stake, the whole of Albion was at stake, Arthur was at stake. The images burned in his mind, the grief stricken eyes of Arthur and the pooling crimson on the castle steps. Terror clung to him like a second skin, long fingers weaving through ebony locks.

His magic. It would help him. He reached out. It surged through the blood in his veins, it was and would always be a part of him. The magic obeyed him, like a loyal companion to be cherished, it seeped into his skin filling him entirely. It knew what he wanted, and so it showed him the path he was to take.

The eyes of the warlock shone a brilliant gold as he was pulled by the warm throws of the over powering force. A sword of wrought iron given the gift of the old magic. The sword forged by a Dragon's breath. The sword worthy of only the Once and Future King.

Excalibur.

The bells of the mighty castle of stone rang clear and proud through the air, the golden dragon crest shining on the crimson banner. Townsfolk raced to the throne room to get a chance to see the ceremony, to see their Prince become their King.

Trumpets blared in harmonious beauty and the great hall of Camelot was bathed in banners of scarlet and gold. The light of the sun cascaded from the high elegant windows basking the Prince in its celestial light as he strode through the crowd of bowing courtiers. He knelt before Geoffrey of Monmouth, draped in the red of his kingdom.

His subjects, his knights, all were watching. The air buzzed with excitement and anticipation.

"Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of Camelot according to their respected laws and customs?"

Arthur felt sure, he knew the weight of the kingdom. "I solemnly swear so to do." His voice was clear and did not waver.

Geoffrey continued, "Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?

The words were there, they were already rolling from his mouth but he knew the most important judgement had already passed, without mercy or Justice. It burrowed like a cold disease in his chest.

"I will."

"Then by the sacred laws vested in me, I crown you Arthur, King of Camelot." Geoffrey announced, setting the golden crown atop the King's head.

Arthur rose turning to face the crowd of courtiers, knights and townsfolk. Responsibility gripped him tightly and he welcomed it. His eyes drifted to the empty space Merlin would've been standing, grinning proudly up at him. He imagined him where he should be by Gwen and Gaius's side, for a second it was real. Though the memory of those azure eyes and that goofy smile was not nearly close to the perfection Arthur knew it to be. Had known… Pain swirled inside of him as the memory Merlin blew away like golden dust.

"Long live the King!"

Hours after the ceremony a council was called. The King ordered the evacuation of the lower towns and all those who would not be vital in the coming battle. The order was followed without any doubt.

Preparations and barricades were made and a darkened swirl of clouds swept over the kingdom swallowing the soft blue of the waning sky. War was coming, just as Camelot had just got its feet back.

Arthur was alone in the Throne room, having sent his knights to patrol and evacuate. He felt he should be doing something more, but he had to keep the charade of the weak and broken King lest Morgana flee from the not so easy target. Despite all that she had done, Arthur was afraid he would hesitate. He had known the woman his entire life and considered her dear family. Maybe it wasn't as much a charade as he originally thought.

His thoughts were cut short as an out of breath Leon burst into the room. The King was on his feet and alert instantly. Before the exhausted knight had a chance to explain, the warning bells were tolling.

"Sire," He gasped, "the sorceress and the Mercians. They're storming the citadel. They will open the doors to the army bordering the walls"

"How?" Arthur exclaimed.

"The tunnels, beneath the city." Leon's brow glistened with sweat as he straightened.

"No one could possibly- Morgana." He finished bitterly.

"The evacuations Sire, half of the folk still remain within the walls. They'll be slaughtered."

Arthur paced determinedly, his cloak swishing along the stone floor. "No they will not. You, Percival, Gwaine, Elyan and myself will await Morgana here, send all the remaining forces to the citadel. Hold them back and get the citizens out through the dungeons. We are at war."

Leon nodded and was off running again. Arthur knew that if the Mercian army was held outside of the citadel then they would have a chance in this battle. He had a feeling that Morgana and her men were headed straight to him. Intent on running, his apparently vulnerable state, through before throwing the citadels gates open to the pillaging Mercian dogs.

He knew he bested Morgana in sword play and with the ward around his neck, he had the upper hand.

Gwaine and Percival raced with their swords unsheathed into the throne room throwing the doors open as Leon and Elyan followed in much the same state.

They formed a protective stance around Arthur as he too drew his sword.

"The sorceress has weakened our defences Sire." Leon informed, "She threw bolts of magic at the barracks closest to the Citadel gates, two dozen men were lost."

Arthur sighed frustratedly, as Leon continued.

"She's headed this way Sire. They out number us two to one even without her magic." Arthur's hands gripped the hilt of his sword tighter.

"We will meet them in battle." Said Arthur kingly leadership strong in his resolute voice. "For Camelot."

"For Camelot!" They echoed.

The jangle of armour was growing steadily louder as the King and his knights took their battle stances in the centre of the Throne room. Their chances were little to nothing, the way things were going the battle would be lost. They were going to fight none the less.

Three burly men, travel dust clinging to their leather and mail, charged with battle cries into the room. Followed by Morgana and several more Mercian soldiers, all as thick and heavily muscled as the last.

Their war cries were answered by the Knights of Camelot and steel clashed against steel as they fought. The largest of the men lumbered towards Arthur and the blonde King gritted his teeth, assessing the man's movement. His arms were as thick as tree trunks and the swing he packed with the heavy broadsword would likely jar Arthur until his teeth rattled from his mouth.

His movements were indeed slow and the King ducked the first swing slashing a stripe of red into the man's thigh, he gave a scream of rage. The brutal slashes of his sword becoming erratic with fury and Arthur had sported a rather nasty swipe of the sharp edge of steel that would've have cleaved him in two if not for his armour. Recovering slightly from the white hot ache he landed a deep blow up and under the man's ribcage and the fight was over.

When he looked up, breathing heavily, from the body that slid down the stairs. The woman he had once thought to be his sister was standing malevolent and evil surrounded by his knights kneeling with swords at their throats.

"Your fight is with me Arthur." Morgana said malice corrupting her once sweet voice, her eyes flicked upward. "I believe that is my crown."

"You have never deserved the Kingdom, Morgana." Arthur seethed. "And you never will. Your heart is blackened by hatred, your hands are covered in the blood of innocents. How did you become this monster?"

"Your monster of a father ruled this Kingdom, and you are no different." Morgana's words were cold and her mouth curled, "How did it feel watching him burn at the stake? Did you feel powerful? Knowing you eradicated the most powerful sorcerer to walk this earth. Knowing you destroyed your saviour?"

His insides boiled. "I did not give the order."

"Oh yes that was me." Morgana said breezily, "If one side dies by fire then it's only fair if the other shares the same fate.

The sorceress flung a hand towards the King and column of fire shot from her finger tips straight at Arthur. He shielded his eyes against the glow, the heat was uncomfortable but he wasn't burning alive.

When the fire stopped Arthur saw surprised anger painted on Morgana's face and smirked mockingly.

Arthur pulled the ward from under his mail, "looks like your dog lost his collar."

She screams it pierces his ears like shards of glass being driven slowly into his skull. Which is why he didn't notice the Mercian approaching from behind, before the man had cut deeply along the backs of his thighs and disarmed him.

Arthur fell to his knees managing not to tumble down the stairs, holding onto his pride just barely as the sorceress strode towards him. She backhanded him and the force sent his head whipping painfully to one side, the crown clanging noisily against the floor. The stone of the castle rumbled with what felt like shockwaves of thunder beneath the earth. Morgana didn't notice as she picked up his fallen sword resting the blade at his neck and he stared with defiance and sorrow at the once soft features.

"Goodbye Arthur Pendragon." The sword cut into his skin as she pulled the weapon back. Arthur closed his eyes, thinking he'd be with Merlin soon.

Before she could deal the final blow the ground shuddered again, and Cenrid appeared in the door way looking terrified and exhausted.

"Morgana! Our army is retreating! He is here we must get out! He is here!" Hysteria soaked his voice. Arthur's eyes were open again and he turned towards Cenrid, wondering what the hell he was screaming about.

Before the cruel King could say anything else, his body glowed with what looked like golden fire. He shrieked in pain as his skin blackened and his body disintegrated until he was nothing but ashes and a scorch mark on the floor.

What he revealed had Arthur frozen, unbelieving and entranced. His heart had sped up, skipped beats and stopped all together.

Merlin stood wearing the same scorched clothes that had burned on the pyre, his entire being was encased in a golden halo burning bright under the arch of the door way. The light like holy fire fanned out so Merlin was at the centre of what looked like a sun. Arthur shivered as he felt the magic even from this distance, it was almost overwhelming.

"Emrys!" Morgana's voice was shrill with terror.

The warlock didn't answer as he stepped softly into the room the aura of gold, ethereal and menacing in its beauty following with him. Morgana was facing the ebony haired man now, screaming desperately at Cenrid's soldiers to do something, but they had seen there King become ash in a blink and weren't anxious to get in the way.

Merlin's burning eyes flicked to both sides and the men, whether or not they were going to raise arms, were thrown back to the walls like ragdolls flung from a catapult. Camelot's knights were free of the oppressive Mercian soldiers, but daren't they move watching the warlock pass with wide stunned eyes.

"You will do him no harm Morgana." Merlin's voice came from everywhere at once, rattling the foundations of Camelot.

Morgana looked at loss, she looked terrified.

Merlin had drawn a sword from the scabbard at his hip and Arthur would've laughed in a different situation, but right now with the ivory skinned man wreathed in golden light. He looked every bit the most powerful warlock to walk the earth. Arthur's heart was skipping again like a spooked hare in his chest.

Morgana eyed the sword with disbelief, and then she laughed. "No weapon forged by mortals can harm me."

Merlin was two strides from where Morgana stood at the base of the stairs. Arthur could feel his magic stronger than ever now, it was incapacitating. "Excalibur is no mortal weapon."

He lurched forward and thrust the familiar looking sword threw Morgana's gut, she shrieked in agony as the bloodied tip of the weapon protruded from her back. Merlin's eyes locked on her writhing form.

She scrabbled pathetically across the floor gurgling bloody bubbles and finally collapsing onto her back at the foot of the throne.

Arthur didn't spare her a second glance as stood painfully on his injured legs. His gaze never left the warlock whose eyes still shone golden, as he descended the stone stairs carefully. He stopped in front of Merlin, still unbelieving in his presence. Somehow didn't care how his friend had risen from the dead, any neighbouring thoughts had been thrust from his mind and he stared into the gold irises of Merlin's eyes.

There was no recognition there, and Arthur's gut curled in fearful doubt as he raised his hand. Preying desperately that the man before him was really here and not some illusion.

When his palm came in contact with Merlin's smooth cheek Arthur could have cried at the realness. Merlin was here, he was breathing, talking, moving. Alive.

He grinned ecstatically, the motion was lack in use the past few days, it felt so impossibly good to see Merlin again. Like he had been blinded to everything bright in the world and was now being thrust back into the amazing reality. Merlin was alive.

The shimmering eyes still held nothing, and Arthur's eyebrows furrowed worriedly.

"Merlin?" He breathed shakily, "Please, Merlin. Come back to me."

The gold flickered like the flame of a candle sputtering, and the warlock's eyes locked on Arthur's. The King was breathless as gold faded to the blue that he had thought he'd never see again, the shade of a fading sky. He saw his Merlin resurface.

He blinked once, twice and the blue lit up in beautiful happiness. "Arthur."

Arthur pulled Merlin to him arms wrapping around his waist, embracing him against his chest and never wanting to let go. His friend gave a relieved laugh as he too wound his arms around the other man. The knights watched the two with grinning faces.

Arthur leant back keeping the hold he had on Merlin, and stared completely free of burden into his love's eyes. Merlin grinned happily at him, his eyes creasing in a way that Arthur had committed to memory the moment it appeared. The blonde smiled softly and rested his forehead against Merlin's.

No one realised until it was too late.

Arthur's lips formed words that were stolen away by the spear of agony the pierced him, he watched Merlin's face contort in pain and then fear as fell revealing Morgana with her hand outstretched from throwing Excalibur, she stilled as Arthur hit the ground.

Merlin was quick to kneel by his King, his hands shaking as he grasped the sword hilt knowing this would be painful. He yanked the sword free and Arthur screamed, breathing harshly as Merlin rolled him to his back muttering quivering apologies. Leon, and the rest of the knights surrounded them watching helplessly.

Crimson pooled down the steps of the stairs and the warlock saw flashed of the vision that was coming true. Merlin's pricked with terrified tears and he laid his hands over the gruesome wound.

Arthur's eyes were open and gazing up at him, they were frightened and happy and just confusing the warlock.

Merlin put everything he had into the healing spell, and his hands glowed over the blood stained mail. He closed his eyes and focused. When he removed his hands the wound was still there, Arthur was dying and the world was ending. Why wasn't it working?!

"L-love… you…" Arthur forced through his laboured breathing.

"Don't talk Arthur. Please don't talk." Merlin sobbed.

He put his hands back over the wound and chanted the spell with more force. Still nothing. The future was coming true and he couldn't stop it.

The knights were kneeling now, their faces twisted in anguish watching their King who had just been given his life back in the form of Merlin, only to have it taken away again.

Merlin cupped Arthur's face in his bloody hands, tears streamed down his face as his voice shook. "Arthur. I-it's not working, Help me. Please I don't know what to do."

"The w-ward… magic ward…" He said faintly before his head thunked against the ground.

With a frantic burst of hope Merlin found the pendant and ripped it from Arthur's neck.

"Not yet Arthur. The destiny's not over yet." The blonde was hanging on by a thread as Merlin whispered the spell a third time, the magic glowed brightly holding promise.

He poured everything he had into his magic, thinking of Arthur and why he needed to live. To unite Albion, to be The Once and Future King, to smile and laugh and love. Merlin needed him to live, would rather burn alive than watch his Arthur die. Which is something he'd already made true on.

Merlin saw the skin mend and the wound heal, but Arthur wasn't moving. He looked to the knights who appeared as hopelessly hopeful as him. He felt for a pulse, nothing. Listened for breathing, nothing.

"No… Please." Merlin's insides tore themselves apart, grief and guilt toxin in his veins. He head fell and his hands fisted in the material of his pants as the tears fled his eyes.

"You missed my coronation, dollophead."

Merlin's head snapped up, Arthur was supporting himself on his arms starring at him owlishly.

The warlock sprang onto him knocking him back to the floor and crashing their mouths together uncaring in the eyes of the knights. Arthur hummed in surprised contentment as their lips sealed in something beautiful and perfect. Merlin broke off and Arthur leaned unwillingly up into him, but only so far.

"That's my word." He grinned.

~I was reading through and I think my official ending was ahh 6 or so chapters ago. Well I hope your glad I continued. I'm actually finished now, how bloody great is that. Thank you all for sticking with it. Now I thought maybe Gaius seeing Merlin alive would be good, but then I'd go off in a tangent and never finish. Forever watching the same episodes. Toddle pip. ~