Merlin stared at the cracked paint on his wall, eyes tracing the jagged lines that crossed the pale cream like knife wounds. He had found that he liked looking at the cracks; they seemed to him to be evidence that even a castle as mighty as this one had its faults, no matter how small.

And right now the warlock needed to see the faults in something else having spent so many hours examining his own. He needed to know that he wasn't the only one that was flawed, that was damaged.

There was a piece of paper that had joined his magic book under the floorboards with a list of names written on it. The first was Mary Collins, but the list continued on far longer than he would have liked. Names of those who had died, who he had killed, who he had failed; anyone who had suffered in his endless defence of his Prince. The same Prince that was still avoiding him like he wasn't worth the dirt on his boots.

The warlock sighed, leaning back against the wall behind him, ever mindful of his wounds. The pain was almost gone now, though in the mornings the muscles of his back would ache so much so that even standing up seemed impossible. He hadn't told Gaius about the stiffness; he knew enough of medicine himself to know that such aching was expected and there wasn't anything the physician could do about it. No need to worry an already stressed man.

Anyone could tell that Gaius was having a hard time and Merlin knew him better than most. Well enough to understand why he was so distressed. The old physician never could stand watching others suffer and watching his ward decay in his own misery was almost impossible to bear. Every morning they would eat together in silence and then Gaius would leave to make his rounds and Merlin would retreat into his room and stay there until Gwen dragged him to the table for dinner in the evening.

Gwen was the shining light through all of this for the warlock. She would come round every day after her chores were complete (Merlin had a sneaking suspicion that some of the other servants were helping her so she had the time to visit) and she would stay until Gaius declared that his ward needed his rest. As time passed though even Gwen's smile became strained when she found that she couldn't drag her friend from the depths of his depression.

When Merlin was lying awake in bed at night, staying silent so Gaius would think he was asleep, he would try and work out what he could possibly have done to make Arthur hate him so much. Because he did; there was no misunderstanding the expression on the Prince's face when he had encountered his servant in the courtyard, it had been hate, cold and cruel. And the warlock couldn't work out why.

He understood that they couldn't really be friends; their statuses were so different that such an idea was almost laughable, except, with Arthur, it hadn't been. They had been friends of a sort, hadn't they? And then during their captivity they had worked together and watched out for each other. The Prince had tended to his wounds for crying out loud, that had to count for something. Maybe that was it? The Prince had seen how weak his servant really was – or how weak he pretended to be – and had realised that actually the dark haired boy was nothing more than someone who would hold him back. Arthur could have escaped on his own had he not had Merlin there as a liability.

So that might be it. The warlock hoped not because if it was, there was nothing he could do to fix it. He really didn't want his master hating him for the rest of his life, not after all that he had done for him. And the prat didn't even know it; he had no idea of the sacrifices that Merlin had made on his behalf, and unless he could fix this mess he never would.

'But what can I do?' He questioned himself, late one night. 'I'm nothing more than a serving boy. If that – do I even have a job to go back to after this?' The fear and doubt rolled through his mind endlessly until he dropped into a fitful sleep.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. Merlin had been back in Camelot for just over a month now and he was finally back to work. Gwen – with her endless wisdom and foresight – had organised everything and the warlock had been brought back into the loop seamlessly. He would forever be grateful to her.

But now he was faced with the task of waking up Arthur, and he was shaking with indecision. The last time he had seen the Prince had been in the courtyard and the warlock was unwilling to relive that disastrous encounter. The dawn was creeping over the horizon though and he was running out of time.

'Just do it quickly. Get it done.' He told himself, steeling his courage and squaring his shoulders. He grabbed the curtains and yanked them open with a jolt. The Prince groaned, throwing a hand over his eyes and grumbling incoherently. Merlin said nothing; in his nervousness he found himself falling into the role of demure servant. The breakfast tray was on the table, all arranged neatly and the warlock busied himself with finding the Prince's clothes for the day. He had to give credit to his temporary replacement: everything was exactly where it should be (except for the mess the Prince had made the night before) and the room was spotless.

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice was groggy with sleep and the warlock was a little relieved that he could only hear confusion, and not anger, colouring his master's tone. He turned around to face him. The Prince was still in his bed, propping himself up on his elbows and staring at Merlin like he was a ghost. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm your servant. It's my job," Merlin told him slowly. He did his level best to make sure that there was nothing other than mild confusion in his voice, fighting to keep the hurt and heartbreak behind his walls.

"But you're injured."

"No, I was injured a month ago. Good as new now," he replied with a fake smile. It wasn't true but why would the Prince care about his servant's aches and pains? He was fit to do his job and that was all that mattered.

"Would Gaius agree with that sentiment?"

"Yes, he would," Merlin snapped, then immediately checked himself, fighting down the frustration. He just wanted to go about his chores in peace, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"You're well enough to resume your normal duties?"

"Yes Sire," he ground out, biting his tongue from lashing out. Arthur just sent him an undecipherable look then stood up to eat without further comment. A little out of place, Merlin started tidying the havoc Arthur had caused. The Prince was in general a messy person, but he must have been in a bad mood because his clothes from the previous evening were strewn even further across the room than normal. Before all that had happened Merlin would have commented, but he didn't dare now.

"I should not have been angry with you in the courtyard," Arthur said abruptly, his voice hard and unfeeling. "You have my apologies." His tone made it clear that the Prince was in no way repentant and was merely completing the required exchange. He didn't even glance at his servant, staring straight ahead, his face unreadable.

"There is nothing to apologise for My Lord," Merlin returned in the same unfeeling tone. He wasn't going to forgive Arthur if he wasn't sorry, even if it looked like the Prince didn't care if he was forgiven or not. Then again, why should he worry about it? The warlock was of no importance to him, that much had been made clear.

"I have a meeting with my father," Arthur told him, finishing his food and ducking behind the screen to dress. "I want you to go and prepare my armour and sword for training."

"Of course Sire," the warlock replied, gathering up the clothes that Arthur had just removed and adding them to the pile of laundry. The Prince left the room without further conversation.

"How was your first day back?" Gaius asked him, faking a cheery tone. It was obvious from his ward's face that they day had not gone well, and the old man was shrewd enough to guess why. Everyone in the castle had observed the Prince's steely demeanor and Gaius knew that even Merlin had not been spared from the cold tones and glares of Arthur.

"It felt like work," he replied after a moment of silence. It was a communication that had grown between the two over the last few years. Despite common opinion, Merlin actually enjoyed his job, and liked spending time with Arthur. But there would be days, days of destiny and heartbreak that would feel so much harder than normal: a day that felt like work.

"It will get better with time. You and Arthur both just need time to adjust. You've been through a lot." He tried to keep his voice soothing.

"Arthur doesn't need to adjust, he just needs to stop hating me!" Merlin snapped, feeling tears of frustration welling in his eyes. He was tired and stressed out and with a start the warlock realised that his emotions were floating just below the surface.

"Oh my boy," Gaius murmured, automatically pulling Merlin into a hug. He sounded heartbroken on his 'son's' behalf. "He doesn't hate you. Arthur would never hate you." The warlock felt tears flooding his eyes and leaking onto Gaius' robe.

"I can't do this Gaius," he whispered quietly, as though admitting his darkest secret. The warm arms around him tightened.

"I know my boy. I know."

Outside the door a stunned Arthur leaned against the wall, trying to find the courage that he had gathered before coming down to the physician's chambers.

He had been coming down here to tell Merlin that if he wanted to leave his service then the Prince wouldn't fault him for it, and he would make sure that the warlock wanted for nothing. He felt so terrible about all that had happened; it had all been his fault. Ragley had been after the Prince, not his servant and Merlin was only hurt because of his connection to Arthur.

The Prince had been certain that Merlin hated him for it, but all of a sudden that idea had been blown out the water. How could his servant think that he hated him?

'You really are a prat,' he told himself. Thinking back he had been the one to avoid the warlock, not the other way around, and of course the sensitive fool had thought the anger in the courtyard was anything more than concern.

He had to make this right. No one as good natured as Merlin should suffer because of him, especially after what had happened. They had gotten each other through that hell only to abandon each other when they were finally free, and Arthur wouldn't stand for it.

'I'm so sorry Merlin. So sorry.'

The warlock awoke with a start, sweat beading on his forehead and a cry spilling from his lips before he could stop it. He flinched away from the ghost whip that wasn't even there, trembling as he waited for the imaginary blow. It took a moment, but eventually awareness bled through the panic and he realised where he was and that he was safe. He could feel his magic coiling and writhing within him, desperate for an outlet that could somehow help him; if only it could ever be that simple.

Sliding to his feet, wincing against the aches that ran up his back and down his leg, he crossed the room and grabbed his threadbare jacket. He had to be careful as he crept through Gaius' room, trying his best not to wake his mentor, then almost crowing with relief when he succeeded.

The courtyard was cool and his breath misted in the still night air but Merlin breathed it in like a man drowning. The peace helped to calm his racing heart and sooth the frayed nerves. In the darkest night the darkness of the day seemed insignificant and nowhere near as insurmountable as before. Taking a seat on the cool stone steps, he leaned against the wall, putting his head back and sighing softly.

He was like that when Arthur found him.

The Prince took a seat beside him without saying a word, not even looking at his servant; he wasn't sure he could without the guilt clawing at his throat. Merlin didn't want to be the one to break the silence, not with the memory of his breakdown still so fresh. Gradually the silence became less tense and the warlock decided that he might as well get back to his own musings and proceeded to ignore Arthur entirely.

"I couldn't sleep either," the Prince admitted eventually. He still wouldn't look at the warlock, but Merlin's head snapped up to look at him.

"What makes you think that I couldn't sleep?"

"You're sitting on the steps in the courtyard in the middle of the night. Why? Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?" Arthur smirked but it vanished almost instantly.

"I was asleep. But... I have dreams," Merlin admitted slowly, blushing. He wasn't sure why he was telling the Prince; it wasn't his problem and up until now Arthur hadn't exactly given the impression of caring.

"I would have been surprised if you didn't." For the first time since the conversation started Arthur turned to look at the warlock, piercing blue eyes grazing over his face, trying to see just what state the poor boy was in. It wasn't a nice sight.

"Gaius offered me a potion for it."

"Why didn't you take it? You look like you could use the sleep." The Prince realised belatedly that that statement could seem like a criticism. The warlock didn't seem offended.

"I didn't want to. If I'm too scared to face my own dreams then my job is going to become pretty impossible."

"You don't have to do your job you know."

"Are you firing me?"

"No. I'm telling you that I wouldn't blame you if you quit." Now it was Merlin's turn to inspect his master, trying to work out the thoughts behind the face.

"Do you want me to quit?" Arthur snorted at him.

"If I wanted you to quit Merlin, I'd just fire you," he told him, offering a smile. Merlin didn't return it, still confused.

"But why would you want me around? I'm a terrible servant."

"That's true," Arthur admitted and grinned at him. "But you're still my friend." He couldn't find the courage to look at the warlock when he said that and his eyes dropped to the floor.

"But..." Merlin started, then snapped his mouth shut. He didn't want to finish that sentence.

"But you thought that I hated you?" Arthur offered and the warlock blinked. There was no way that the Prince had worked that out himself.

"Have you been talking to Gwen?"

"A bit. But she didn't say that. Mostly she was just angry with me for avoiding you."

"On that point, care to explain why you were? Since you don't hate me and all." Arthur looked suddenly evasive but he wasn't going to refuse to answer.

"Because I felt guilty. Watching you limp around with a cane, covered in bandages? Knowing that it was all my fault damn near killed me. Every time I saw you I realised just how little I had done to protect you and I just thought that if I couldn't look after my own servant, my own friend, then what kind of King am I going to become? So I was a coward and I hid." The Prince fidgeted when he was done, nervous energy rolling off him in waves. Merlin just blinked wordlessly for a moment.

"But it wasn't your fault. I convinced us to run in the first place and then I was holding you back. You could have gotten out of there without me but your honour stopped you from leaving me," he argued eventually.

"It wasn't honour Merlin. I told you; it was friendship. You showed me a lot whilst we were there, and I wasn't going to repay that by abandoning you to be killed. And you can't take any of the blame for this. Ragley-" he spat the name like it was poison "-was after me. Not you. He would never have taken you if you weren't my servant." The warlock thought for a moment then said:

"Call it even?" The Prince laughed at nodded at him.

"Even. But then I still need you to forgive me for being such a selfish prat."

"But you're always a selfish prat. This is nothing new." To anyone else it would sound like a comment worthy of treason but Arthur heard the joking behind it and understood the forgiveness there.

"You really aren't angry with me?"

"I was." Merlin shrugged, unconcerned. "But I do understand it now. It makes sense."

"Even so, I shouldn't have done it."

"No, you shouldn't. But it's done and you're here now. I'm choosing to focus on that." He grinned his lopsided smile.

"You really are a good person, aren't you?" The Prince didn't look entirely surprised by that assessment. The warlock just smiled mysteriously at him and he laughed. There was a guard standing at the gate to the courtyard who was eying them warily and for reasons he didn't quite understand, Arthur found it amusing. He waved to the bewildered soldier who looked away quickly, shaking his head; he probably thought he was imagining things.

It wasn't ok. It wouldn't be for a while. Both of them still had a lot of healing to do, even though their bodies were almost back to normal. It would be many months before either of them slept soundly again, but now, it wasn't as bad.

When they had dreams they went to one another for comfort, no matter what hour it was. Neither of them turned the other out if they needed to talk. The first time they went on a patrol again together they rode right next to each other and always stayed within sight. If the knights noticed they didn't comment.

But the relationship between the warlock and his Prince was strong, and they could get through anything. They weathered their storms together: Courage and Magic.

This seemed like an enigmatic place to finish this. As previously said, the beginning part of the story is about to go under the axe because it's rubbish. But the main story line won't be altered.

This story is finished. I thought I'd make that clear, because I can be vague about these things. I'm starting another Merlin story called 'Sickness Falls' which has a teaser up already, with more to follow shortly.

This is chapter is unbeta-ed because I'm a little worried that something has actually happened to VHunter07 :/

I know that it took forever, and thank you to anyone still sticking around. You all must be really annoyed with me. But this story has finally come to an end. I hope you have enjoyed it :)

Hope to see you on my other stories :D