Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

Blood—real blood, not illusions—spilled from the wound. No matter how much he pushed down on the wound, Merlin could old slow the bleeding to an insignificant degree. He paid no heed to the shouts around him, even when one particular desperate scream would have otherwise caused his heart to shudder in despair. All he knew was that if he did not act quickly, it'll be too late. Merlin couldn't afford to mourn another friend, especially not the one he was closest to.

"Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare!" Merlin hissed, his eyes flaring gold as he felt his magic surge forward.

The warlock lifted his hands from the wounds, ignoring the sticky blood that coated his hands in light of the dismay he felt. He could feel it in his magic, its weakened state. He may be powerful, but Merlin feared his battle with Morgana was not without its loss. To prove his point, blood continued to flow, albeit slower. Not enough to save the king. Merlin was about to press his hand once more against the king side when he felt a hand grasp his shoulder and give him a small shake.

"Emrys," Aubrey choked out as he stared wide-eyed at the paling king.

"Release me, there is no time," Merlin said as he shook off the hand.

"But—"

"Just—just keep everyone back," he whispered as he reached once more for the wound. There was one way he could still save Arthur, and he couldn't afford a distraction.

"Yes milord." Then the sorcerer stepped back, waving everyone away. Another scream could be heard with more desperation and a hint of authority, but the person was quickly shushed or escorted away.

Able to concentrate without someone hovering over his shoulders, Merlin stared at the king's face. Arthur's brow was furrowed in pain as sweat glistened from his scalp. His skin was too pale and there was a hollow look to his eyes, most likely due to blood loss. His wound was deadly, but not mortal when it came to powerful healing magic. Merlin could choose to call for Gaius and Allison, but he feared they would arrive too late. He needed to be treated this instant, however combined with Merlin's usual difficulty performing healing spells and his exhausted magic, the warlock wouldn't be able to heal a wound of this magnitude. There was one way he could think of, risky but worth it should it work.

Reaching for the wound. He peeled away the chainmail and tunic, revealing the ugly wound beneath. What he couldn't peel away easily he used magic to tear it apart further, some links falling with a clatter to the ground. For the spell he was planning, he needed more direct contact with the gouge. Once he had the wound sufficiently exposed, he pressed his hand once more against the wound, clenching his eyes shut for a second before opening them again to look at Arthur.

"I'm sorry," Merlin murmured. Then he began his incantation, whispering quickly as if racing the flow of blood, "Benote min afole ond forhwierfe þæt bilswæþ. Efengedæle eac mec áscildan ond háligan min æðelcyning."

His eyes burned gold, brighter than ever as he forced his magic and will into the spell. Gold enveloped his hand then the wound, creating a bubble that sparkled with the energies of pure magic. Pain erupted from his own abdomen, causing him to gasp out. Otherwise, he remained still, refusing to allow the pain to interrupt his work as he repeated his incantation over and over again. Sweat broke from his skin followed by tears, the drop leaking from the corner of his eyes as his voice turned haggard and the whispered words came out in ragged gasps. Still, he pressed on. He needed to save Arthur at all cost, no matter the pain, even as warmth blossomed on his stomach and blood plastered his tunic to his skin.

Weightless

That was what Arthur felt in this strange abyss. He knew not what was up or what was down, left or right. Even his memories seemed nonexistent, though when he tried to recall them he remembered only of sweat, blood, and steel. A voice somewhere in the corner of his mind spoke of urgency, but it was easily ignored. The king was unsure of where he was, or even how he got there. He was content, though, to remain floating where he was. That was, until the abyss changed.

The change was subtle at first, but soon caught Arthur's attention when the world around him rapidly lost its obscurity. Beneath him, a dim glow started, like the rising sun in the early morning sky. The light was lined with a mixture of black and various shades of dark red. Then it changed to a flurry of colors, from reds to oranges, from deep gold to the palest of yellows, to even the slightest smidge of purples and blues. The brightening of the world halted, and a line marked the place in which the dark and light meet. Arthur allowed his body to flip over, so that the view encompassed his vision in its dazzling array. It drew him in, caressing him with a sweet melodious voice that promised nothing but contentment and rest.

The crooning music was too much to bear, too much for him to resist from reaching out, but his attempt was interrupted as his feet suddenly slammed onto a solid surface. Curiously, Arthur looked down, seeing none of the platform he knew had to be there. Instead he saw a strange wavering in the colors that swirl beneath his feet, though he could not tell how far it was below. Mesmerized, he continued to watch as it flowed from underneath him to a spot a few paces in front of him, growing larger in the process as it approach closer to him until it too was on the same plane of existence. Spinning faster and faster, the strange swirl turned into a small whirlpool as it shot up to nearly his height.

It pulsated as it stood, growing wider and wider as it warped and flowed into a new form. Then it gained a blue hue that reminded Arthur of years ago when he was but a boy taking a refreshing swim during a hot summer day. The blue grew deeper and deeper before it broke away from that single hue in favor of a multitude of other, painting the figure in a more natural color. The resulting transformation was a familiar face that held a set of kind brown eyes. The difference between when he last saw her was that she seemed more ethereal than before, with even her body seeming to waver in the gentle currents of the lake she normally resided in.

"Freya," Arthur said, unable to keep the awe from his voice.

"Arthur," she nodded.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, confusion marring his face as he recalled their last meeting. "Didn't you say that Samhain was the only time we can meet face to face?"

"Visitations into the living world, yes," she murmured as she closed her eyes, "but we are no longer in the world of mortals."

His eyes widened and his tone took a new edge, "I'm dead?"

"Not quite, for neither are you in the world of the dead."

"Then where am I?" Arthur asked as he gestured to the strange world.

Freya looked around them, at the line between the darkness and the light, before turning back to him, "You are on the border between the two worlds. Beyond this point are the gates to Avalon."

"Is that where I'm going?"

Freya shook her head, "You are not allowed to see it."

"Why's that?"

"Because you have not passed. No mortal can lay their eyes on Avalon."

"So I'm still alive," Arthur stated in confusion. "Then what's the reason for my presence here?"

"Honestly?" Freya smiled, cheer colored her eyes far different from the despair she once held. "I wanted to say thank you."

"For what?"

"For setting my Merlin's head straight."

Arthur's eyes widened as he looked to her. Hope blossomed in his chest but he dared not acknowledge it. Yet he couldn't keep the question from leaving his lips, "He's fine?"

"Yes," Freya nodded as she shared in his joy, "and he is currently saving your life."

"W-What," Arthur stuttered, taken aback.

"That is why you are here, for you were at death door. Don't you worry, though, both you and Merlin will survive."

"Thank goodness," Arthur sighed as he swiped his hand through his hair. "Now what?"

"Now I send you on your way," she laughed, "but not before I give you my message for Merlin."

Then, before he could ask for her message, Freya flowed forward so that her lips was to his ears. She whispered quickly, relaying her message clear and concise so that the king did not misunderstand. When she was sure he knew her message, she stepped back and looked to him with a gracious smile, her body rippling with the movement.

"Now off you go, King Arthur of Camelot, though I'm afraid to say your return to the mortal would will not be without pain."

"Goodbye fair Lady of the Lake," Arthur said. The king gave her a small bow even as she turned her back to him and flowed away to the grand sparkling world beyond.

Each stepped she took brought more instability to her body as it rippled. It wasn't long before the rippling led to her body bursting out in a spectacular display of cerulean. Water droplets rained down, washing away the beauty of the afterlife and allowing the darkness to descend upon Arthur with vicious hunger. From behind him, he felt hands grasp at his chain mail, over his abdomen, one digging deep into his side to leave a gouge that erupted in agony. He doubled over, delirious with pain as more hands dragged him further and further into the darkness. They were stifling, making him fight all the more as he tried to drag, crawl, swim—whatever he could do in this strange world—away from their terrible clutches.

Finally he gasped out, his chest heaving with effort as his body worked to drag air into his oxygen starved lungs. His eyes flew open as he was met not with the sight of the otherworldly place, but the familiar scaffolding that characterized the Great Hall of his castle. Dazed, he took a second before he tried to get up, memories of the battle rushing to the forefront of his mind. Then he felt pain erupt from his abdomen as well as a firm hand push him down.

"Sire, please," came the worried murmured of a familiar voice.

"Wha—" he said, blearily as his eyes focused on the raven haired figure hovering over him.

The figure interrupted him, his mouth forming words as if to explain the situation. None of it reach Arthur in his half-awake state. Instead, the king tried to wave him into silence, his arm merely flopping about as he began to babble out. He knew what nonsense it would sound to any other, but Arthur wanted to deliver his message before being dragged into oblivion. When the king stuttered to a stop and the man above him nodded, Arthur felt himself relax, relenting to his exhaustion. As he was dragged into the world of a dreamless sleep, he couldn't help but be enthralled by the bright blue eyes that peered down on him. Those orbs spoke of exhaustion that matched his own. However, they were clearer than any time he has ever seen them previously, sparkling in relief, apprehension, and glee.

Everything was fine and he knew he could rest easy for now.

Merlin groaned as he rolled in his bed, confused by the ache in his stomach. It was only until he opened his eyes and saw the familiarity that was his chambers did he remember all that happened.

Letting out another groan, the warlock fell back onto his bed, resting one hand on his forehead while the other probed the newly acquired wound on his abdomen, right were the wound was on Arthur. He could barely remember those minutes when he healed the king, only the desperation followed by relief when he knew he accomplished what felt to be the impossible. The results to his spell had been the diminishing of Arthur's wound to the acquisition of his own. In the final moments before unconsciousness, Merlin knew he had completely healed Arthur's smaller wound. He could still remember Arthur's babbled words, though the meaning of them was a matter for another time.

Merlin slipped his hand beneath the fresh, white tunic, feeling the rough texture of the bandages that wrapped around his middle. Pressing into the wound, Merlin muttered, "Þurhhæle dolgbenn."

He felt the magic release and the burning gold flow from his eyes, but the wound didn't heal. No surprised there, Merlin thought. He would just have to allow the wound to heal on its own. He considered trying one more time, but was interrupted.

A single attempt is enough, young warlock, or have you a need to needlessly exhaust yourself further?

Kilgharrah, Merlin responded as he slowly sat up, dragging his feet out from under the heavy blanket to settle on the floor. Where are you? How long have I been out? What's happened—

At ease, the old dragon grumbled. I know not of what goes on within the walls of Camelot, only that the castle shook with terrible sorcery not long ago.

I wasn't for long, that's good.

Young warlock, are you in need of my or the hatchling's assistance?

I don't know, Merlin hedged, but I'll let you know when I know more of the current situation.

Careful as to not jostle his wounded middle, Merlin rose from the bed with a groan then walked to his wardrobe. He pulled out the first article of clothing he reached for, caring not that it was a rather lavish robe of deep blue. Besides, he mused, it was only appropriate for one of his status. It wasn't as if he was in good enough condition to care either way. Embarrassment be damned when there was a gash across his stomach and the heaviness of fatigue pushing him down.

Once he changed his clothes for the robes and pulled on his boots, he padded out of his room. With the memories of the countless times he made this trip guiding his feet, Merlin soon found himself at the door of the royal family's chambers. And, as usual, he lacked the decorum to knock on the door as he allowed his magic to open the door for him.

Inside was lit by the dim lights of candles as the queen sat upon a chair with hands clasped in her lap. Arthur laid in the bed before her, face clear of discomfort as he slept on. At the sound of the door opening, Gwen looked up from her silent vigil, taking a second only to identify who had entered the room before flying form her chair. In a sprint, she crashed into Merlin, throwing her arms out around him to bring him in a close embrace. Merlin took a sharp intake of breath as she accidently jostled his wound.

"Oh!" Gwen gasped as she immediately released him and leaped back, biting her bottom lip as she stared back at him sheepishly. "I'm so sorry Merlin, I'm just—you're fine, and Arthur is okay, and-oh thank you so much I don't know what would have happened without—"

Merlin interrupted her as he brought her into his own embrace, being careful not to hit his wound before releasing her. "It's fine Gwen, no need to thank me."

"There is none more deserving of my gratitude but you, especially after what you did for Arthur," she chuckled as she shook her head and gestured to his injury.

"How's he doing?" Merlin asked, looking to the sleeping king.

"According to Gaius, all he needs is rest. He said the same for you, so what are you doing up and walking about?" Gwen scolded.

He waved he question away while saying, "I needed to check up on things. How about everyone else?"

She rolled her eyes though she answered, "Recovering for now, though I suspect tomorrow is going to be a mess. Morgana threatened everyone, no one is going to simply brush that aside. I believe many of our guests plan to leave as soon as they can to ensure their kingdoms are safe in their absence."

"Then while Arthur lazes around, I'll make sure to clean this mess."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Show our guests the wonders of magic," Merlin grinned as he stepped back and left the room with a wave of his hand.

Gwen smiled, shaking her head before turning back to the bed. She watched her husband sleep for a few moments longer before deciding it was time for her to follow the warlock's example. She wanted to be there for when Merlin did whatever he planned to do, lest he got to overzealous and further worry or scare the other royals. Getting up from her seat, she went to catch up to the Court Sorcerer as he began to set his plan into motion.

Hey Kilgharrah, are you still around?

Are you not in need of my presence to make a case of our benevolence to the people of Albion?

Yeah, about that, want to make good on that idea?

You wish to introduce Aithusa and I to a group of people recently traumatized by the witch who may not be entirely accepting of our existence? I am afraid I must question your rationality on this notion, young warlock.

"Rise and shine lazy daisy!"

Arthur groaned, trying to shield his eyes from the morning sun with one arm as he threw out his other in search for something to throw. A headache pounded through his head and he had little patience to deal with Merlin this morning. Why would he get him up so early, that idiot…?

"Merlin!" Arthur gasped, wide awake from the rush of memories.

He squinted his eyes towards the warlock, scrutinizing the man from head to toe for any sign of a problem. For some reason, the man wore a royal blue robe he typically saved for special occasions he couldn't go to in his typical rags. He was still too pale and the dark bags that underlined his eyes revealed a sleepless night. Yet those blue orbs remained bright and cleared, containing an excitement and confidence Arthur hadn't seen in a long while.

"I didn't think you were going to wake," Merlin mused with raised eyes brows and a smirk.

"You try sleeping when some blathering moron bang about the room," Arthur groaned, choosing to slide off the bed and slowly stretch out his limbs as he sobered and asked, "Tell me I dreamed all that."

"Morgana appearing out of nowhere and the threats made on our hopefully future allies? Nope, sire, can't say that's a dream. On the bright side, you don't have to worry about all that stuff with Morgana putting a damper on future negotiations."

"What do you mean?" Arthur narrowed his eyes at the warlock, watching his best friend pick up around his room, casually waving his hands as gold flickered in his eyes. It was then he noticed the full meal set up on the table.

"How about you come over here and eat, and I'll fill you in on all that's happened."

By the growling of his stomach, Arthur had no choice but to agree to the suggestion. As he walked over, seated at the table, and began eating, he waved for the warlock to continue.

"After I defeated the witch and healed a prat," Merlin said, ignoring the annoyed grunt, "the knights and sorcerers came in and took control of the situation and everyone else were sent on their merry way."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "And by that you mean…?"

"I mean, everyone was escorted out and any wounds were treated."

"So they're all gone now?" the king mumbled as the fork dropped back onto the plate and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Nah, they're still here, for the most part."

"Wait what? Why are they still here?"

"Because we haven't kicked them out yet," Merlin said before smirking, "or is that your wish, sire."

"No, idiot, I meant why haven't they left. Morgana—"

Merlin lifted his hand, laughing at the frustration that colored Arthur's voice, as he interrupted, "Don't worry, I covered that."

"What do you mean by covered that," Arthur asked, suspicious at the amusement that reflected from his friend's eyes.

"It's simple really, seeing as we have plenty of sorcerers and dragons," he shrugged.

"What for Camelot's sake did you do."

"I ensured all the rulers needn't be concerned for their kingdoms, though it did get a bit… messy—don't worry, I didn't mess up relations too badly. And I'll have you know it was all for Camelot's sake."

"Merlin…"

"Calm down, will you? I promise it was all for the best, besides, most of them were fine around Kilgharrah and Aithusa—"

"You brought them to the dragons?" Arthur asked, more incredulous than angry.

"No, I called the dragons to us. It's fine Arthur, everything turned out fine."

The King groaned, "Who got scared off?"

"None."

He raised his eyebrows, "None?"

"None, I'm not that much of an idiot. Besides, who would say no when a dragon offers to fly to your kingdom and stop any invasion without them lifting a finger?"

"And they agreed?" Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"After a bit of persuasion, yes. I had some of our sorcerers as well as their own men ride along to bring messages to the kingdoms from the appropriate ruling family. Kilgharrah and Aithusa made sure to keep an eye out for suspicious activities on their flight over or when they dropped off the people."

"Did they find anything?"

Merlin nodded, "In Queen Annis' lands. They were camped in a forest about three hours ride from the castle. They were a sizable army, though it was nothing once the dragons and Caerleon's armies arrived. From what I heard, they easily scared them off. Also, with permission of course, I had sorcerers stationed at each kingdom to remain as a warning system in case of another attack and to search for spies. If they find anything, I'll know."

"And you had time to do all of this—wait, how long have I been asleep?"

"Awhile, actually," Merlin said as he carefully settled onto the seat by the king. "It's nearly evening sire. We've been at it all last night and today."

"So you haven't slept since and been running around injured," the king stated, nodding his head towards the careful way the warlock seated himself with glowering eyes.

"Perceptive for having just woken up, you never cease to amaze me," Merlin rolled his eyes. "Whether I'm injured or not is of no import. I can rest when there is less at stake."

"The least you can do is heal it."

Merlin sighed, shaking his head as he said, "Healing magic is rarely that simple, or have you not forgotten. Besides, this injury serves as a reminder for what could've been lost yesterday."

"What do—wait, how'd you receive that wound? I—" Arthur stuttered to a stop as he looked down at his own stomach. Flowing in along a flood of emotions, he remembered the dueling swords, the biting cut, and the splash of scarlet as he fell to the ethereal world to converse with a dead woman. "I was dying and—that's where Mordred… is that the same—"

"It is," the warlock murmured, "and I took it from you."

"Merlin, you self-sacrificing idiot, that could've killed you!" Arthur shouted, glaring at the warlock in frustration only to be cowed when Merlin slammed his hand down on the table and matched the intensity of his glare.

"I did what I must to protect you," Merlin growled, before pushing back and slumping in the chair with a sigh. "I'm no longer the same scared, naïve boy I was when I first stepped foot into Camelot. I've acted poorly since when I was imprisoned and it took nearly losing everything for me to realize that fact. I saved you at the risk of my life because losing you means we've lost everything."

"And you think your death would be any better? You are as important as any other person including me. No man's life is worth more than another."

The warlock chuckled, "I did not claim your life was worth more than mine and do not assume I expected to die by saving you. I only assumed part of the wound, enough so that you can be healed. The healing of my wound will be slow, whether by magic or naturally, which is a consequence I can live with."

Arthur grumbled underneath his breath as he pushed the rest of the plate of food away. He couldn't argue with that kind of logic, no matter how much he hated it. So, instead of continuing their disagreement, he chose to sit quietly and stare at the grain of wood, immersed in in his thoughts.

"What happened to Mordred," the king asked quietly after a few minutes, tapping against the wooden surface after tracing its grains.

"I don't know," Merlin said, glancing towards to window to see the midday sky. "Everything was chaos, so no one would think twice if one of the knights was spotted running about. He managed to slip out of the city along with a sorceress capable enough to use a transportation spell."

"Damn, I was hoping to have a chance to talk some sense to him."

"Me too," Merlin mumbled, "but I fear it's far too late for that, Morgana saw to that. The best you can do is to stay out of it and let me handle Mordred from now on."

"He was a knight of Camelot, therefore it comes down to me to deal with the boy," Arthur shook his head.

"But I who allowed Morgana to so easily change his heart, besides there is more to this that I don't dare to disclose."

"And why is that, I am the king, don't I have a right to know?"

He didn't respond immediately as the warlock took a moment to consider his next words, "You have more rights than most to know this, but I've dealt enough on the matters to know it does no good to hold such knowledge. I let the words of a handful of powerful individual affect my actions rather than rely solely on my own judgment only to result in ill, and that includes my treatment of Morgana and Mordred. I don't want to change your choices with the same bias."

"So I'll need to blindly trust you on this business?" Arthur asked then shrugged, "Easy enough as long as you're not being idiot."

Merlin rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, prat, I won't—"

The door flew open, disrupting the warlock's next words as in bounded the familiar face of Arthur's least favorite knight. With a grin that promised mischief and debauchery, Gwaine was practically skipping with excitement as he approached the table. It didn't take long for Merlin to be wincing as the result of the knight's overenthusiastic slap to the younger man's shoulder.

"Hey, mate, you ready to go?"

"I'm busy Gwaine, why don't you drag Percival with you instead," Merlin groaned.

"Because you need to give yourself a break and relax, and Percival isn't going to be nearly as fun as you'll be with your magic," Gwaine said as he wiggled his fingers at the warlock

"I'm not going to play jest to your drunken antics in some rowdy tavern, besides I don't have the time. I'm needed here, and Gwen already has her hands full as it is."

The knight crossed his arms and pouted, but was interrupted before he could continue his protest as Arthur said, "Go on, Merlin, and before you complain, that's an order."

"And why's that a good plan," Merlin asked as he rolled his eyes. "There is still—"

"You are running yourself ragged and while the tavern isn't the place to rest, I can trust that Gwaine's stupidity will run you down eventually," the king interrupted as he pushed himself from his seat and Gwaine gave him an innocent grin. "I can handle matters from now on."

The warlock shook his head, "You are just now recovering."

"And you are still injured. For once in your life would you do as you're told? I don't want you falling asleep in your seat when we continue the talks."

Merlin blinked once, shook his head, and then blinked again when he asked, "You're letting me attend?"

"Why not? The reason I forbidden you was cause you were not of right mind."

"And I am now?"

"For the most part."

"Then I suppose I should—"

"Great, let's go Merlin, see you later Princess," Gwaine cut in, rambling as he grabbed Merlin by the arm and dragged the young man towards the door. "If you need us, we'll be passed out under the tables of the grand Rising Sun!"

The warlock sputtered in indignation as he was dragged across the room and out the door, leaving behind the blond to shake his head as he laughed.

Rain splattered about him, drenching him from head to toe under the moonlit night. Mordred didn't know how far away from Camelot he reached, nor did he care. He felt numb to the world around him as his detached stare bore into the dirt and twigs beneath his feet. Sitting upon a fallen tree, heavy cloak draped over his shoulders and shut tightly in front. It had not taken long since his flee from that wretched kingdom that the young druid abandoned the chainmail and the famed crimson cape in favor for the drab browns and green of rough wool clothing and a slightly oversized, dark blue cloak.

Across from him, at the rather depressing campsite sat a sorceress, a last minute companion he had made in the mad rush out of Camelot. She too did nothing but stare off, lost in her thoughts as her eyes chose to skim the trees surrounding them. Between them sat the ashen remains of their previous night campfire, neither motivated to combat the elements to reignite it.

"Where are they?" Mordred grumbled as he glared at the sorceress.

"Soon here, I hope."

"I thought they were supposed to be here already."

She shrugged, "Morgana wasn't the only one to fail. It's likely they're having difficulties on the run back home."

Giving her a noncommittal hum, the boy reached for a nearby stick to scratch into the dirt by his feet. As his swirls turned to an odd drawing, he allowed his thoughts to wonder. Once again he pondered the effectiveness of his plans. This route offered him the possibility to exact his revenge on Camelot; the need to expand on their control meant Morgana's allies were the best chance at getting at Emrys. Determination burned in him as he promised himself that, no matter how much it took or how long, he would ensure he claimed the warlock's life. If these people were the answer to the path of his desire, so be it, he would join them to one day bloody his hand. The Saxons would be his means to Camelot's end.

"Why did we have to do this so soon," Merlin grumbled as he massaged his temples and gave Arthur a bleary glare.

They walked down the hall, Merlin shambling along as the king and queen of Camelot walked side by side with arms weaved together. When the warlock had awakened that morning, tucked in the corner of the tavern slumped in a chair, the last thing he wanted to do is spend possibly hours in a room full of royalty immersed in the delicacies of debates on the finer points of foreign affairs.

"It's your fault for drinking so much," Arthur pointed out.

"At least you can still walk," Gwen teased as she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks Gwen," Merlin shook his head before adding, "and it's your fault for allowing Gwaine to drag me into that situation."

"Where is he?" the queen asked with genuine curiosity.

"Under table using several empty bottles as a makeshift pillow, where else. Can't I please go back to my room?" the warlock whined.

"No, and don't you dare ask again," Arthur growled as he scowled at his friend. "Let this be a lesson on over doing things when you shouldn't."

"First of all, what a lousy way to make a lesson. Second of all, are you really expecting me to listen? Don't you learn, dollophead, that that never works. You may as well—Mithian!" the warlock's tone changed when he spotted the princess of Nemeth.

She stood near the entranceway of the spare room that would serve as the location of the next grueling meeting of the kingdoms. At the call of her name, she looked up in surprise which turn into a smile when she recognized the ungainly warlock. Leaving her father to converse with King Odin as the two kings entered the room, she was quick to bring Merlin into a hug.

Letting him go, she grinned, "Good to see you're not the walking corpse you were the other day."

"True, but my head is pounding so I might as well feel like one."

"Your fault, you didn't have to drink," Mithian shrugged as she turned back to the room with Merlin matching her stride alongside her.

"You don't know Gwaine. Wait, how do you know I was drinking?"

"Oh, Gwen told me when I was wondering where you disappeared to so suddenly."

From behind the two, Arthur leaned over to Gwen and whispered, "When did those two get so friendly?"

"About the same time they found an unnecessary amount of amusement from humiliating King Odin."

"What did he do?" Arthur groaned, already thinking of dozens of ways to apologize to the king.

"Oh, nothing on purpose. King Odin was a little less than amused when Merlin called our winged friends, especially when his reaction involved him falling to the ground while screaming at a very unfortunate pitch."

"Then let us hope such amusement doesn't affect our relations with him," Arthur grumbled as they entered the chambers.

This hall was much smaller than the other, a spare room that had before been gathering dust. Inside, a smaller version of the round table was placed, with the seating more clustered than the other one. Knights and sorcerers lined around the room, standing at attention alongside a few of the servants; added security if only to ease the tension the recent threats caused. They all seated once more at the table in the same order except for one difference. Merlin now sat on Arthur left, next to the princess of Nemeth while Gwen took her seat to Arthur's right. The dull roar of multiple of conversations quieted down when then last person took their seat, each one looking at each other in a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Clearing his throat and thereby calling everyone's attention, Arthur spoke, "Welcome all once again. Before we begin, I would like to extend to you all my humblest of apologies. It is under our responsibilities that you all are not only comfortable and welcome in our home, but also safe from any and all threats. I'm gracious that you chose to trust us and remain to continue to attempt peace for our people. However, please don't remain if you feel pressured to do so. Grievous threats have been made, it is not unreasonable if you wish to return to your respective kingdom if you so choose. Know we of Camelot are ready to aid each and everyone one of you. Our resources and army are at your command."

"Currently, our sorcerers are working at full force in ensuring that no threat is allowed to go unstopped or unwarned," Merlin added, meeting everyone's eyes as he spoke. "Kilgharrah and Aithusa already reported the remnants of the hidden armies to be flushed out of Queen Annis lands. It seemed they planned on taking the kingdom of Caerleon and spreading to the entirety of Albion from there."

"I don't not know what would've happened to my people without your help, thank you," Queen Annis nodded to the warlock before continuing, "and it seems my previous understanding was confirmed. I've made my decision on sorcery and am most ready to open my lands to its influences."

"Even after the witch threatened you?" King Odin asked, though his tone held curiosity rather than the venom that had once saturated his words.

"Most especially so. My kingdom is woefully inadequate against attacks from magic. We have, in the past, managed, but should another such as Morgana strike, we will be but lambs for slaughter. I only wish that your dragons are kept well away from my lands. They're aid is most welcomed, but to leave such power and strength unchecked is beyond my comfort. No, I'll rather they not enter my lands without my permission and that their movements are entirely known to me should I allow them in."

"Yes, I am in agreement with such sentiments," King Bayard said while King Olaf nodded furiously next to him. "It'll already be difficult as it is having the people of Mercia accept sorcery back into the land, but to add the dragons, I fear revolt."

"Something must be done with these beasts before my kingdom can accept sorcery as well," King Gregor mused. "The people are already wary of magic after King Alined's failed alliance with Morgana."

King Rodor shook his head, "Our people never reacted too strongly to the dragons' presence. I believe your fears on violent reactions to be unwarranted."

"And it would not be too difficult to ask Kilgharrah and Aithusa to respect your boundaries," Merlin said. "Oh, they will moan and groan, yes, but they won't disregard the importance to respect our allies."

"And what of you?" King Olaf asked. "We experienced first-hand the power you possess. I doubt there would be much we can do if you chose to turn that against us."

"The legendary Emrys, a man said to be the most powerful sorcerer to walk or will ever walk the lands of Albion. We know nothing of you except your power, so please understand why I am hesitant to trust a near complete stranger," King Bayard agreed.

"Yet your concerns are unfounded," Princess Mithian pointed out. "If Merlin was as you fear him to be, then Camelot would have long since fallen along with most of Albion. Merlin is a good man, and based on Nemeth dealings with him and the people of Camelot, he has no want for such positions as a tyrant."

"I can vouch for that," Gwen said. "Never in the many years since I've first met him here in Camelot has he ever shown to abuse his magic. In fact, he was known to save those many sorcerers deemed to be the source of the persecution of sorcery."

"Then let us all return to matters of import," Queen Annis announced. "We are all agreed on allowing sorcery with whatever degree of regulation deemed appropriate?" A chorus of agreements resounded around the room, each varying in enthusiasm. "Good, now my next question I must present to the representatives of Camelot. What is it do you advise when reintroducing sorcery into a kingdom and how do you manage the criminals who abused this power? I find that this question should be answered for all of us before we finalize any treaty as well as return to the topic on dragons."

Arthur met the eyes of first his queen then his best friend before returning his attention to the rest of the table with a smile, "I'm sure that can be arranged. It is a long, difficult road, one of which we have yet to fully travel here in Camelot, but I can promise you the peace and the advantages garnered from fighting the persecution of sorcery far outweighs the disadvantages. Restrictions and regulations are important, but there is a fine line that cannot be crossed when handling the problems of discrimination with the magic population…"

Merlin looked around the table, enjoying the excitement that radiating from a vast majority of the people as they drunk in Arthur's words. It was finally here, the beginnings of prophesized golden age. The warlock's one regret was that he wasn't able to see every second that led up to this moment, small as it was. Today had dawn a new day, one's which significance he had missed in the stupor of his hangover but nevertheless would still celebrate. All the blood, sweat, and tears had finally paid off. The lives of his loved ones no longer for naught. The rulers of the great land of Albion were finally making strides towards the same goals, and Merlin couldn't be more proud of the man he knew as the Once and Future King. What the warlock didn't realize was that those same sentiments were felt by the king to his best friend as one by one the kings and queens peppered the great Emrys with questions on the intricacies of sorcery.

It was a long, hard fought battle, but it was worth it in the end.

The gentle breeze from the cool night air brushed gently across his cheek as he sat, legs stretched out in front of him and arms folded beneath his head. Above him, the clouds parted ways to allow the brilliant stars to twinkle and wink back at him. Within their limited light, the dark haired man could still make out the shadow of his companion as she swooped in circles above him.

Merlin, how long do you plan to stay here? Her voice radiated through his head as she whined.

I don't know, but you don't have to wait for me Aithusa, Merlin responded back through their mental link.

Are you sure?

Yes, besides I'm not as fond as you are of partying. Don't get drunk again, I don't think the castle can suffer another night of you and Gwaine romping around.

I do not get drunk, the dragon mumbled as the warlock watch her straighten her body towards a single direction. You and Kilgharrah greatly exaggerate the events of that night.

Sure we do, Merlin smiled, wiggling a little to find a more comfortable position, just stay away from the ale.

Fine, she grumbled before her tone softened, have a good night Merlin. Call when you need a ride back.

With that, she was gone, leaving Merlin to his own musings as he watched the night sky. In the calm of the forest accompanied by the silent chattering of its residents, the warlock couldn't help but think over the year since the negotiations. So much had happened since those days, and already the original treaty has since grew as more kingdoms joined in unity. Albion was well on its way to unification. The only thing that could dampen his mood was the threat of the Saxons, but their might was still not enough when they faced not individual kingdoms, but the entirety of Albion. Still, they do love to cause trouble when they could, especially when it came to the villages at the very edges of Albion.

As for Mordred, he had all but disappeared from existance. Merlin scoured through the reports for his location, wanting to find some way to amend things with the young druid boy. Whenever someone was said to have spotted him, the ex-servant would investigate only to find the report false. He would just have to keep his guard up and his eye open for the boy, lest Kilgharrah's warnings prove true. Until then, he would settle with stopping further attacks from the remnants of Morgana's sorcerers. Few were left but they still threatened their people whenever they can.

Then silence descended. The creatures of the forest had ceased their chattering at the same time as Merlin felt a change in the air. It was imperceptible at first, enough so that only the keenest of perception could identify. Ahead of him, the source of the disturbance, was the ever familiar lake that stretched out far before him. While others would be frighten or confused by its inhuman presence, the warlock felt at home. The mist that covered the entire lake was comforting rather than foreboding, and when it began to swirl, excitement rather than fear spiked through him.

Merlin pushed from the ground, pulling off his worn jacket, kicking off his boots, and yanking off his socks before he got onto his feet and walked to the edge. Without sparing a second more with concerns of wading into the water dressed in the fine clothing of nobility, he walked in. He waded as far as he could go, stopping where the water reached chest level when he arrived at the steep drop off into deeper waters. The lake was frigid, its water causing the edges of his clothing to billow out and float about him in a mixture of dark blues as he stood waiting.

Further away, at the center of the lake, the water glowed gold. It was lighter than the usual gold that colored a sorcerer's eyes and from within it rose a feminine figure. Her dressed rippled as she took her first step on the surface of the water, then flowed into the water as her foot sunk with her next step. The closer to the warlock she got, the further she sank, until she too was chest deep in the water face to face with him. Her large brown eyes shone with happiness as she gazed at the warlock's blue, extending a hand to hover a hairsbreadth away from his cheeks as though scared to touch him.

"Finally," she whispered, "a chance to meet each other outside of dire situations."

Merlin grinned, his teeth flashing as he murmured, "Freya."

"Merlin," she matched his smile. Then her hand rose slightly, her fingers skimming just beneath his eyes, "You no longer look unto me with needless guilt. Are you happy?"

"Yes," he sighed as his eyes closed to her ghostly touch.

"Good," Freya said as her hand dropped back to her side. "The lives of the living should not be governed by the false opinions of the dead. You owe me nothing but to live your life at its fullest, and the others agree. Remember that, love."

"Is this why you told Arthur to have me come here on the night of Samhain? To tell me this?" Merlin asked.

"Yes, for you have a foolish habit of taking unnecessary burdens, but that is not the only reason. I admit my main reason is entirely selfish, but I did not wish to miss another opportunity to see you."

"So you won't return next year?"

The Lady of the Lake shook her head sadly, "The line between life and death is a fine one that should not be toed. As the guardian of Avalon, there is only so many times I can tamper with the mortal world. This will be the last you see of me until a critical moment of Albion's future."

"When will that be?" Merlin asked, brow furrowed

"Not for a long while," she said. Then she looked back, watching as the golden light began to dim. "I must go, my love."

"I'll miss you," the warlock said, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"And I you," she said as she leaned forward and her lips ghosted against his own. "Take care of yourself, Merlin Emrys, my love."

"You two, my Lady of the Lake, my dearest Freya."

He stood still as she turned away from him. He stayed as she walked back to the center. He watched as she sunk beneath the surface and the golden glow dimmed and disappeared. And still he remained even as the forest came back alive and the mist settled back over the lake. His mind was lost in memories and lost loved, but unlike previous time, he reveled in the happier memories rather than remorse in the tragic ones. He would have stood there all night as such, had it not been the commanding voice that resounded from the shore.

"Merlin!"

Merlin looked back, spotting the still figure by the tree line astride a brown horse with a second mount standing behind. Turning around, Merlin waded back onto the shore, stopping to pull his socks and boots back on and slip his arms back into his jacket before approaching the king.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Camelot celebrating Samhain?"

"I'm making sure my idiot sorcerer doesn't drown in a lake in the middle of the night."

Merlin chuckled as he hoisted himself into the saddle of the other horse, grabbing the reigns from the king. Tightening his hands on the straps of leather, both the king and the warlock turned their horses around before kicking them forwards into the forest.

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked, his eyes on Merlin's face as he scrutinized for any signs of trouble.

"Yeah," Merlin smiled back in reassurance.

"Good," the king gave him a curt nod before grinning, "now let's head back before those two destroy the castle."

The warlock groaned, "Damn Gwaine for believing it was a good idea to give alcohol to a dragon."

Arthur grimaced but couldn't hide the amusement in his eyes as Merlin brought his horse alongside his. Together the two rode on, chattering their way through the forest, from the mundane events of the castle to the important meetings that lay in their future. Their conversation never ceased as they passed through the gates of the town and headed towards the castle, stopping only when they're horses returned to their stables and they were absorbed into liveliness of the celebrations that still roared on in the courtyard.

As the night grew old, the people trickled away, the knight and the smaller dragon flopped in the corner passed out, Merlin watched on, satisfied. Demons no longer haunted him, kingdoms no longer hunted him or his people, and his dreams were no longer beyond reality. Together, he as Merlin Emrys the Court Sorcerer of Camelot and his best friend, Arthur Pendragon the Once and Future King, will continue to push onwards into a glorious future. There will be struggles and there will be heartache, but no longer would Merlin lose himself. He was no longer the monster he believed himself to be, and no longer did he distrust himself. From the time of his darkest moment, Merlin knew he would use all his power and all his strength into ensuring that the happiness he saw before him would never cease to exist.

AN: And there it is, finally, the end! A week after I was supposed to post. Honestly it didn't register that my flight home was over night (12hrs in a plane and car starting at 11:30pm isn't fun), which made trying to get this chapter out difficult. Also my inability to realize how big this chapter ended up being (sorry for those who don't like it this long!). Otherwise, I really don't have much of an excuse in why it came out so late :/ God, did I make a lot of mistake when it came to updating on time ,

Still, I had a lot of fun writing it! Thank you everyone who took the time to read and have the patience for my messed-up updating schedule (truly sorry this chapter is so late). All of you are wonderful people and it's always a blast reading through your reactions or just talking with you all! I hope this last chapter is a fitting end for you guys.

Now for my plans from this point onwards regarding fanfiction for Merlin:

A few have asked about this and yes I do have a vague idea of a third installment. However, this fic will not pick up from where Trust left off as in I have no real plans to bring Mordred back and all the prophecy business into the picture. With that said, this third installment will carry a theme similar to the themes the previous two loosely followed. It will be a standalone (Loyal and Trust not needed to be read) since I'm using the setting I established (magic back in the kingdom, Merlin is Court Sorcerer, blah blah blah). I plan to write it's rough draft completely as well as some editing before posting since the way my schedule and life is going now, makes it difficult to avoid the same updating problems Trust suffered. I do not have the same free time and freedom I used to have back when I was writing Loyal :/

As for my other fic, Rebirth, I'm not going to abandon it. I can't make promises if it'll be off hiatus any time soon (I need to refresh myself on everything that went on in that fic), but I'm going to work on it as well and hopefully finish it before the end of the year or early next.

Again, thank you all for reading my story! Thoroughly enjoyed writing this fic and being able to share it with others rather than leave it to gather dust on my hard drive unfinished is fantastic.

Until next time :D