Notes: So this is the end. Not expecting to get much love for it, if I'm honest, but... The story I set out to tell has been told, and everything else is up to you.

On that note, I want to say thank you to everyone who has supported me through writing this, be it with alerts, favourites, reviews or anything else. I appreciate it more than you can possibly imagine.

(And, specifically those who made suggestions for my personal angst last time, I say thank you again. I've decided to be the mature, responsible adult that real life tells me I'm supposed to be. Whatever will be will be, and until it is, what's the point in worrying...)

So, yeah. Once more into the breach, dear friends. Here's hoping I see you again.

Peach x

Set In Stone

Epilogue (of sorts)

"Well, go on, then," Gaius says, with a gentle shove to Merlin's shoulders. "I know you're used to keeping the king waiting but, perhaps today, it might be a good idea to be on time."

Merlin nods, then shakes his head; he so isn't ready for this, not in the slightest. All the planning and the conversations and the time and effort he and Mordred put into convincing Gaius that this is actually a good idea, and now Merlin's feet are frozen, his legs numb and yet aching, his stomach packed with monsters just waiting to break free. He isn't ready, probably won't ever be ready for this.

Emrys, Mordred calls, to him and him alone, and Merlin cannot help turning to look at him, meeting a gaze steady as a rock and calm as can be. We both seek to change the future we've seen. What better chance have we to do so than this?

"I'm not ready," Merlin answers aloud, the words close to a sob. "I can't."

Mordred just looks at him, so much encouragement and trust and Merlin doesn't know if it's love, if that's what this is, but right now it kind of feels like it might be, and that's just another thing he can't handle right now. "You can, Merlin," Mordred says, voice full of that same faith it carried when he told Arthur the story of Emrys, the one Merlin knows he believes and wishes he didn't. "And, really, you've never been scared of Arthur before. Why start now?"

Merlin laughs, kind of, then takes a deep breath. "If it's as easy as all that, why aren't you the ones going in there to reveal yourself?" he mutters, sounding so petulant he immediately wishes he could take it back.

"Would you like us to?" Mordred asks, although Merlin suspects he knows his comment is mostly directed at him; Arthur relies too heavily upon Gaius' council for him to risk revealing his occasional practice of magic. "This is your moment, Emrys, but if you wish to share it I will happily stand beside you."

Mordred reaches for his hand, regardless of Gaius watching them, of Arthur waiting for Merlin on the other side of the door. Merlin lets him, takes reassurance in the gentle squeeze Mordred gives to his fingers, then pulls free, laughing again, this time at himself, and yes, love, if not now then someday soon. "No. Thank you, but no. Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," Gaius says fervently, then jerks Merlin into a quick hug. "My boy, you have no idea how proud of you I am."

Mordred just smirks, and since Merlin figures he's already blushing he should get out of there before Mordred has the chance to share whatever he's thinking. As it happens, the only way is onwards. "Right, then. See you in a bit."

He pushes Arthur's door open, regardless of how much is at stake, how important a time this is, because if Merlin the servant doesn't knock, Emrys the sorcerer damn well isn't going to either.

X

However long he may have been waiting for Mordred to bring his sorcerer acquaintance up to his room, Arthur still startles when the door opens. He suppresses the urge to reach for a knife, ignores the voice that sounds so very much like his father as it warns him of the exclusive and absolute evil of magic, and waits.

And then slumps, because Merlin has never known when it is appropriate to enter a room and when he should mind his own business and stay out. "Now is not a good time, Merlin. I realise you're concerned, but I have agreed to meet with this sorcerer in private."

Prat, Merlin thinks (Arthur knows that's what that expression means), and there is a small, smothered laugh from just outside the room. Arthur frowns (yes, he has reason to find this amusing, but no one else can see Merlin's face), then frowns more when Merlin smiles ruefully and closes the door. "Merlin, what are you doing?"

Merlin pulls out the chair at the opposite end of the table to Arthur's, the chair closest to the door, then seats himself, maintaining eye contact the whole time. "You wanted to meet the sorcerer who has been protecting you all this time," Merlin says, tilting his chair back on two legs and resting his boots on the table, then brings his right hand up in front of him, palm up, level with his chest. "Well, here I am."

In the second it takes Arthur to decide between spluttering with laughter and shouting at Merlin to get out and let the real sorcerer in, an orb appears in Merlin's hands: dark blue, shimmering softly, and emitting a glow that has only one explanation.

Also, Merlin's eyes are gold, and suddenly Arthur doesn't feel all that much like laughing anymore.