So how long has it been? Wait. Don't tell me; I'd rather not know.
All I can tell you is that I do have slightly a little something of an excuse this time; my sisters and I (along with a few other kids) are being forced to stay an extra hour after school every day. Stupid government doesn't understand that A.C.E. schools work under different conditions than public schools, and if we miss a day, we don't actually miss any school work; also, being a minute late three days in a row should NOT count as a whole day's absence. I don't care what good lessons you're trying to teach me about punctuality.
Anyway! I'm sure all you awesome people don't care about any of that; I just didn't want you to think I was abadoning you willfully. I love you entirely too much for that. *hugs*
Once again, the epilogue is just as long as the other chapters (if not longer). A few people asked to see the multiple reactions of people, so I did my best to include that; couldn't think of anyone else's reaction that mattered, but if you can, let me know and I'll add it on. A couple mentioned the issue of Aithusa not obeying Merlin; I may possibly have taken a liberty on that, but if you pay attention in the show (or just remember the dialogue, like my warped mind), it's never actually declared that Merlin has 100% absolute power over the dragons. The closest Kilgarrah comes to saying he does is when he says something like, "I could not resist you, even if I wanted to." For the sake of the story, let's just say Aithusa's been so overtaken by the "dark side" (LOL) that he is able to pull away and resist Merlin's power over him to some extent.
Thanks so much to all my beautiful reviewers and readers! I'm glad you've enjoyed the story, and I hope you like this last part too!

Epilogue

When Merlin opened his eyes again, he believed, for a moment at least, that he had dreamt it all.

Certainly, the walls of his room looked no different, the same shade of stone-grey they had always been, with hardly any crack or discoloration to mark them. He looked up into the colorless rays shining through the little window onto his bed, the light being the first thing that touched his eyes, and he could not tell if it was dusk or dawn.

Sitting up slowly, hands wrapped around the blanket at his waist (he was in his nightclothes, he noted), he tried to think back to what he had been doing. Nothing of his everyday life came to his mind, but only the stormy darkness of Morgana and Mordred's attack, and the white tail of Aithusa flipping across his memory, and…

He blanched.

"It's dawn, if that's what you're wondering."

His entire body jolted at the unexpected voice breaking into the stillness of his dim room. A figure with broad shoulders and a confident step emerged out of the shadows of the far corner, maneuvering around the typical piles of books and semi-clean clothes with his usual air of exasperation at the mess.

Merlin's hands twisted intuitively in the blanket, before he forced his tensed muscles to relax, that inborn calmness overtaking him as it always did, as he recalled…something…something he had seen just before he'd lost consciousness…something wondrous in his king's face….

He met Arthur's eyes without wavering.

The king stopped in the center of the room where he was just in the light enough; his heavy armor was gone, but even wearing his simple, red tunic and fawn trousers, there was no doubting his sovereignty and aptitude; it was clear in the way he held himself as he crossed his strong arms over his chest and looked with some indefinable emotion at the other man.

Merlin folded the long sleeve of his eggshell-white shirt back, his eyes quickly finding the place on his wrist where the shackles had held him in the sorcerer's dungeon.

Arthur's eyes flickered to the bruises before returning to his servant's pallid face.

"It wasn't a dream," the darker man murmured, and it was a statement and not a question, so Arthur did not open his mouth to reply.

Merlin looked away again, his wide eyes staring down at his worn blanket, before he took a slightly trembling breath and said, quietly but with solid conviction,

"I wanted to tell you, Arthur."

The other man's face remained impassive as Merlin looked up at him again with shining eyes, the sorcerer's back straightening and shoulders tightening, his gaze as steady and unflinching as Arthur had ever seen.

"You'll never understand how much I wanted to," he went on, sounding almost haunted with memories which were in the past now. "I thought about it every day."

"So you admit it, then. You admit that you lied to me."

The younger man nodded willingly, once again looking away from his master's deep eyes and down to his own fingers, which were tangling subtly in the covers as he considered his words with meticulous care.

"I had to," he said with honesty, and though he knew this was true, in the moment, he wondered deeply if it really was. "I had no choice."

"Why, Merlin? Why did you never tell me?" he demanded, however quietly, stepping forward the littlest bit in his barely-contained excitement, eyes flashing with something powerful and unreadable. "Why did it take all these years for you to ever say a word? Why did it take this for you to tell me the truth?"

"You know why," the young sorcerer replied hastily and fixedly. "You would have had me killed, because you would not have understood, Arthur. You almost didn't now."

The king's face seemed to somehow soften at that, his shadowed eyes flickering subtly to the bruises still barely visible beneath Merlin's white shirtsleeve before the sorcerer consciously pulled the fabric down again to hide the marring, as though it were a mark of shame.

"I came so close," he murmured, looking down at his fingers toying with the edge of the sleeve at his wrist, "to telling you, so many times; you have no idea how many times. There were moments when I thought I would go insane if I didn't."

"And yet," Arthur expounded, having so hastily regained his usual relentless control, "you've left my chambers every night, and I still have never heard a single word about any of this."

Merlin did not lift his eyes, for he could feel in his heart that the king, even secretly, meant more than simply the magic at that. It was more than just a servant lying to his master, and more than even a subject lying to his king. It was a friend deceiving a friend, looking straight into his eyes and telling him lie after lie, knowing he would believe them all because of his affection and trust. It mattered little why he had done it; the hurt audible in his friend's voice now made that more real than anything.

"I know," he consented willfully, and then he looked up again with pleading eyes. "I was…afraid. I was going to tell you at the very start, in Ealdor; Will told me you wouldn't listen, and I was desperate to prove him wrong."

Arthur's countenance lost some of its severity at the thought of the young man who had so selflessly saved him—Merlin's first friend, he realized, and the first one he had trusted with his secret. The king, though he would never allow it to show, found himself torn between respect and the tiniest twinge of jealousy.

"But then he saved your life," the sorcerer went on without pausing, lifting his eyes to the king's again, "and I couldn't stop thinking that he was right. I waited, and waited; it never seemed the right time to tell you, and every time it was on the tip of my tongue, something happened—Morgause, Morgana, your father's death—and your hatred of my kind would be renewed. I was afraid all over again."

Merlin was afraid of him. Arthur's handsome face fought to remain a cold mask, but yet-inscrutable emotion still danced at his eyes and his mouth like candle-shadows, his arms, crossed over his slow-breathing chest, tensing into a knot with battle within himself. After all the times when he had been driven mad with frustration over his servant's never having the right and appropriate amount of fear of him, he felt he should be happy to know of this long-concealed trepidation…except, he wasn't.

Merlin, in the silence, glanced aimlessly at the thin door of his room, his fingers twisting absently in his lap, and then he took a noiseless breath and continued on bravely.

"Please, Arthur," he whispered with immense sincerity, "I know I have done you wrong, and I am sorry that I had to. I never meant to bring you pain."

"Why, then?"

Again, the king stepped forward, and the burning emotion now saturating his half-whispering voice almost startled Merlin. The sorcerer looked directly to him then, his fingers stopping their restless movement; Arthur's expression had lost all of its severity and resolution, as though he was no longer strong enough to hold it in his expression, and instead of the mighty King Arthur, Merlin was now looking at his friend Arthur—the Arthur who loved with all his heart and trusted like a child waiting for the first light of day, and who felt a wound deeper than any sword could penetrate in his loved ones' betrayal.

"I do not understand, Merlin," said he, as though he had given up at the roundabout exchange. "I don't understand why. You know what would have happened to you if my father had found you out, and yet you were here then, and you're still here, even now."

Confusion passed quickly over Merlin's features as he struggled to define his friend's doubts. It had always been a talent of his to read Arthur, but now, the other man had had at least a day to form whatever damning distrusts were keeping him from harmony between them, and Merlin was struggling to unwind the knots he had made of all this.

"I know what you did," Arthur continued, quieter now with some, tender memory, "to Morgana. I know you saved the kingdom, but I can't bring myself to be grateful for that when I don't understand why."

Then, like the morning's light steadily growing brighter through the closed window, Merlin's whole face lit up with comprehension. In that same instant, his final few moments of consciousness swept back over his mind, and he saw in his memory the look on his master's face as he whispered to him, I'm yours.

In a movement swift and excited, like a little child receiving a great and awaited gift, he flipped the blankets away and stood firmly beside the bed so that he was facing his friend, and the light shone off the faded white of his clothes from behind him like an aura reflecting the brightness of his face.

"Arthur," said he kindly, but not placating, "listen to me now. Please, give me a chance—just one chance to explain myself to you; that's all I ask."

The other man, a hesitant light of hope glowing in the deep-blues of his eyes, gave him a nod which was nothing like a king granting allowance to his subject, but like a withdrawn young warrior desiring to have peace of mind.

"I know," said Merlin enigmatically, looking directly into Arthur's eyes without fear or hesitation, "that you have been hurt because of magic."

Arthur averted his gaze then, stubborn and strong as ever and unwilling still to allow another to see the haunting pain he kept hidden within himself as he thought of his mother, and his father, and all others who had suffered at the hand of practitioners of the so-called mystical arts. He was unaware, as he had always been, that he could hide nothing from Merlin.

"I know," the sorcerer went on, more solemn now at his master's still-present sorrow, "how hard it must be for you to ever see anything good in it. Everyone with magic who has ever come across your path has done so for gain, or revenge, or only to hurt you. You look at all people of my kind as though they have a hidden motive, like it's only a matter of time until every one of them tries to tear you down."

Arthur glanced up when Merlin stepped closer to him, over a set of old tomes beside the bed, with careful reservation, but he looked just as quickly away again and merely listened to his servant's words, yet unsure what to make of the fact that he did not feel the slightest bit unnerved to have a sorcerer so close to him.

"I could never blame you for that, Arthur," the warlock murmured gently. "I understand; you look at all of this, and you're trying to find a great scheme, just like all the other times in the past."

Arthur swallowed without intent, for that was precisely it.

Merlin moved just close enough to get the king's attention, so that their eyes would meet. When Arthur did lift his head, he found his servant smiling with a look more tender than he'd ever seen.

"You're right about that, sire," the gentle warlock told him. "There is a great scheme behind it all. I can't wait to tell you everything, but right now you're looking for the wrong type of plan. I have only one reason for being here, and it's not for hatred, and certainly not for gain. My reason is you."

Arthur could not have stopped his eyes from growing bright and wide even should he have tried. He said nothing at Merlin's words, but held his tongue and let the man continue; that faint hope had begun to glimmer more strongly in his face. It was the same hope which had been there before this had begun, when he had sat all the previous day in the other room and listened to Gaius tell him in a voice firm and truthful of the wonderful man who had been born to be his sorcerer.

"All those days," Merlin went on softly, without pride or threat, sounding just as he had a hundred times before, when he was reminding Arthur of something he had forgotten or disregarded that would make all the difference in whatever great choice he was facing, "when we were alone, and I was serving you a meal, or helping you practice for a speech, or dressing you…or all those times when you fell fast asleep while I was still cleaning up your room—I could've killed you, so easily. I would have been gone before anyone even knew you were dead."

Arthur's face acquired a look of vague alarm at that revelation, feeling a bit awkward that the thin, innocent-eyed manservant who had been pattering about his chambers was more than his equal, and he had never even had the foresight to imagine it.

"I didn't, though," Merlin reminded him intensely, recalling his attention. "No matter what you did, I could never even think to harm you, Arthur. Please, try to understand. Nothing of what I feel for you and for this kingdom—for Gwen, or Gaius, or any of the knights—was ever a lie. I never pretended to be someone I'm not; I only pretended to be less than what I am."

He inched still closer, so that they were scant steps away from one another, and his burning-blue eyes locked onto Arthur's so that the king could never hope to look away.

"I tell you, all the time," he smiled, "that I've saved your life more times than you know. You never believed me before, but I can tell you about every one now, and I can tell you why. You are my king, and my friend, but more than any of that…you're my whole purpose for existing. You have no idea what great things we're meant to do."

"Emrys," Arthur murmured, and to hear the name of legend said with such regard in his voice made Merlin's smile all the brighter. "Gaius—he told me that you are someone called the Emrys, that you were created, by the gods, to—"

"—to guide and protect you," the warlock finished, his face soft with unspoken affection for the old physician's faith, "and to help you become the Once and Future King of Albion."

"Two sides of the same coin," Arthur chanted, looking down and shaking his head slightly in awe, repeating the words Gaius had used so many times in the hours they had talked the night before—he'd thought such a phrase was strange, but as he stood here now….

Merlin suppressed a small chuckle.

"Yes," said he. "I didn't think it was true when I first heard it, but now…I know it is."

Arthur glanced up at him again, and in the shining of Merlin's eyes, he had long-forgotten any doubts and distrusts still lingering.

"I stayed because…" Merlin looked down at his bare feet then, a faint blush colored his pale face, made all the clearer by the now-radiating sunlight behind him. "I stayed because I know what I am, and why I'm here. I stayed because I love you, Arthur, and I know how great you can become if I'm here with you to help. That is my destiny."

Then, the feelings dancing across his face seemed to change suddenly, and he raised his head once more, the dark gravity of his eyes somehow more haunting than any of Arthur's violence-born nightmares.

"If you are going to banish me," the warlock declared, voice as hard and unyielding as any mighty monarch's, "then you might as well go on and execute me, because that's the only way I'll ever abandon that destiny. Banish me, and I'll only return to you. If you can't be sure of anything else I've said, at least be sure of that, Arthur."

Arthur said nothing for a long moment. Instead, he looked once at his manservant, taking in his wild, dark hair and the familiar angles of his body and the wide, sea eyes glimmering with power beyond anything he could ever understand. He thought that he might slaughter anyone who tried to harm him.

At that solid conviction, he closed the little distance between them so that they were standing eye-to-eye. Merlin never moved, but Arthur was almost certain he could see hints of gold shimmering in the depths of his eyes when he became close enough.

"You will never be afraid of that again," he declared with all the domination of the legendary king he was destined to be. "You have my word, Merlin, that no harm will ever come to you as long as I am king. Whatever happens now, you will not have to live in fear again. I only ask one thing of you."

Merlin inhaled a small gulp of air, and Arthur realized suddenly that the younger man was trembling, his eyes wet and his smile having disappeared in favor of breathless disbelief.

"Promise me," the man said, lifting one hand to steady his friend, "that you will never keep anything from me again. From this day forward, trust me, Merlin, as much as I have trusted you."

The sorcerer seemed to gain the presence of mind enough only to nod vehemently, as though, for once, Arthur had said exactly what he should. At the wide, complete grin which lit up the room more than the daylight ever could, the king decided that, for what may be the first time in his life, he had placed his whole faith in the right person.

He could not explain it, but he felt as though the weight of all the world had been lifted from his heart.

As they emerged just as the sun began to shine with all its glory, the worry of Gaius's wizened face drained at the sight of both his boy and his master smiling without shadow of trouble or distress. With steps quicker than a man of his age should probably be able to manage, the physician reached the dark-haired, younger man and embraced him gently in the sight of their king.

Merlin's smile grew softer and he did not hesitate to wrap his arms around the man who was his father in all ways but one.

"It's all right, Gaius," said he, and Arthur, though he understood what Merlin meant by it, knew he would never understand the depth behind it.

"I always told you it would be," answered the elder, in that peculiar fashion which could be taken as sarcasm were he not so wise and respectable, and Merlin only closed his eyes briefly and grinned in the tears still lingering in his eyes.

In the throne room less than an hour later, Gwen's caramel eyes flickered back and forth between her husband and their friend as Arthur poured the inconceivable tale out to her with complete honesty and gentleness, while Merlin stood beside him and watched her face carefully but without imposing expectation.

Her lovely face clouded with concern and unease in the beginning, but as she listened without interruption to her true and good king, and saw the new glow of his gaze in the truth, it slowly faded away. When he was through, she was quiet for only a moment before raising her eyes to Merlin with her own patient expectancy.

"I am sorry that I lied to you," the sorcerer voiced with contained eagerness. "I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, and believe that I did it with good reasons. I'm not like Morgana, Gwen. I care for you, and Arthur, more than anything. You know that perhaps better than anyone."

The lady regarded him ponderously at that; if she could sense Arthur watching her with bated breath, she never acknowledged it as she said, undecidedly,

"You've been using your magic to save us, all this time?"

The contours of Merlin's face softened as he glanced quickly to Arthur, and then back to her.

"Yes," said he sincerely.

There was another, brief heartbeat of stillness, and then, to the mild startlement of both men, the young woman threw her arms around the manservant's neck with a joyous laugh.

"Thank you, Merlin."

Over her head, Merlin met Arthur's eyes. The bright blue of them sparkled, and the side of his mouth was quirked into a smile of pride at his brave and beautiful queen.

At nearly noon-day, when Gwaine saw Merlin practically skipping along beside Arthur across the courtyard, talking loudly and laughing as though the whole world was all right, he approached them carefully as he came to meet them on their way.

The two of them looked up at him, their beaming smiles fading with their conversation as he joined them, and then Merlin's smile returned in its full glory, and he did not wait for the knight to address him first before he wrapped his arms around Gwaine in a sudden—and surprisingly strong—embrace.

The dark-haired swordsman was startled into uttering a small gasp, and then Merlin had released him and was gazing at him with eyes like the cloudless sky.

Arthur remained wisely quiet from beside his sorcerer friend, and then Gwaine said the words which he had been waiting to speak for two days while Merlin lay sleeping.

"So, a warlock, eh? Think you could teach me a spell or two for conjuring mead—you know, just in case I'm ever lost in the woods and thirsting to death?"

Merlin threw his head back and laughed; Arthur sighed melodramatically and rolled his eyes at their friend. Gwaine slung his arm over Merlin's shoulder and led him in the midst of their other friends, who stood in a chuckling group at the far end of the courtyard. Arthur followed with good humor on his tolerant demeanor as Gwaine shouted with his typical grating comicality about how "…the littlest creatures have the most fight in them, am I right?"

When the evening rolled around, every knight in Camelot's army and every subject of its kingdom knew of the creature of sorcery now dwelling—and welcomed—within the castle's walls.

Arthur did not wait to address his people. Just before the sunset, he stood on the balcony above the yard and spoke to them with perfect balance between friend and sovereign, his honest and powerful voice echoing over the same ground where so many sorcerers had burnt to their deaths under the old Camelot's laws.

Gwen stood on his left side; Merlin stood on his right, and he held his breath without thinking as Arthur gestured to him and related his servant's tale to his beloved citizens.

Though Arthur did not demand their approval, he pleaded in his own way for their support and trust both in him, and in the compassionate and courageous warlock who had dedicated his very life to protecting them all.

By the next morning, the process had begun to repeal forevermore the laws damning sorcery.

Three days later

"Hang on!"

Merlin halted mid-step as he moved smoothly around the table of Arthur's room, his apparent grace countered by the awkward way he balanced their empty breakfast dishes in one hand; the wooden spoons knocking together as he attempted to keep them from tumbling to the floor at Arthur's sudden outburst.

"Does this mean," the king, who was just putting on a thin jacket to go out, nearly shouted in his impulse, "that when the Great Dragon was attacking Camelot…I didn't really deal him a blow at all, did I?"

Merlin thought back to that dark night, so many years ago, and laughed aloud, feeling freer than he could ever remember in the peace of the early morning air. He wondered how he could have kept silent for so long with the true joy filling him now as the two of them stood together in Arthur's rooms, and how he could ever have doubted the strength and love of their immortal friendship.

He pulled the dangerous stack of bowls and cups to his front so that he could better balance it, and wondered also why he had thought everything would be so different after his secret was revealed. There was nothing he could feel had been lost, but only so much gained, by the truth discovered.

"Yes, well," he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, "about the dragon, Arthur…"

"And when that Goblin possessed Gaius—that really was your book of enchantments he found, wasn't it?"

"Ah…"

"And when the Witchfinder accused you of sorcery, he was telling the truth!"

"Now, that wasn't all my fault," Merlin defended himself hastily. "He really was truly bad; he didn't even believe I had magic at all. He was just after Gaius. I may have overexaggerated the evidence just a bit…"

"Merlin!"

The younger man bit back the rest of his defense, and shrugged helplessly at the livid look on Arthur's face, which so quickly was washed away by verging hilarity.

"You have got a lot of explaining to do, Merlin."

The sorcerer bit his lower lip.

"Yes, sire."

Arthur regarded him quizzically for another, brief moment, and then his expression changed as Merlin's eyes moved to look over his shoulder. The king sobered and turned, looking past his writing-table where sat the sealed documents which had removed all but the necessary sorcery laws from his kingdom, and followed his servant's gaze to the sunlight peering through the clear window. He watched it for a moment before turning his face back to his friend.

"It's a new day," said he quietly.

Merlin smiled and cast an enchantment to hold the dishes freely in the air.

The End

There you have it, ladies and gentlemen (though mostly ladies...)! It may not be precisely what you were expecting, (and I'm slightly horrible with endings) but I liked the idea of it ending with Merlin doing exactly what he's been dying to do this whole time...to use his magic in front of Arthur, just for something little and meaningless, like dishes. I thought it was a way to counteract all the dark drama that's happened in the other chapters. Plus I like to highlight their casual friendship whenever I can; it's just so ridiculously endearing.
Thanks so much for reading, and please let me know what you thought!