Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

CHAPTER 1

"I want to say... something I've never said to you before… Thank you."

"No. No, don't you dare die on me Arthur." Merlin hoisted the king's limp arm over his shoulder, pulling the rest of the unconscious man from the ground. "Not yet. I still have secrets I need to share. You need to hear them."

Tears dripped from the warlock's cheeks as he rambled on. Exhaustion and worry threatening to choke the servant as he stumbled a few awkward steps forward, taking on most of Arthur's weight. "There's Valiant, a-and the Questing Beast… Alator… and the Fomorroh. I have so much to tell you."

Merlin grunted with effort, struggling to support the armor-clad warrior. Despair filled his heart as the grim truth sunk in; he wouldn't be able to carry Arthur any further. Not able to walk more than a few steps with his burden, the warlock eventually sunk to the ground, sobs wracking his slim frame as he laid Arthur's head on his shoulder. "Please… just… wake up."

Merlin stared at the body of his best friend. They couldn't have come all this way just to fail. Would Destiny be so cruel? He shook his head. No. There was a pulse. The King still lived, and as long as he did, Emrys would fight for him.

Merlin gazed up at the sky with a new determination flashing in his clear blue eyes. Tilting his head back, he roared to the heavens, the words of the ancient tongue erupting from the part of his soul linked to the dragon race, "O drakon! E male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"

His voice died away, the request taken by the wind as it whistled through the clearing. He could only hope Kilgharrah had heard him. Merlin knew how weak his kin was the last time they had seen each other.

But after all of this, was he really going to fail?

He'd waited over a decade, watching the arrogant prat of a prince grow into a wise king, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself to Arthur. Every angry tirade about the evils of magic was a knife to his heart, slowly whittling away at the hope he carried within his chest. To hear those words from the lips of the man he considered his other half—his brother in all but blood—was a terrible burden. But he'd held on to his dwindling hope, keeping it alive with everything he had. The fact that his king had made a tentative peace with the Druids and never publicly executed someone with magic was a small comfort to Merlin, until Kara came along. When all the pieces fell into place and Destiny took them to Camlann, the fire of hope had almost completely left him, replaced by fear and dread. He was unable to stop Mordred's destiny, and neglected his own by failing to protect his king, the Once and Future.

The journey after his reveal was one of the toughest he'd yet to face. Physical exhaustion, a broken friendship, and the desire to prove himself to his king had nearly pulled him to his knees. But none of it compared to his anguish as he watched Arthur fade away, with the fear and hurt of his servant's secret slowly turning to acceptance. He was going to lose his friend and he would never know the reality of returning to Camelot accepted by his king, and free of his secret.

He had thanked him, and now he was going to die.

No. He would save Arthur, no matter what the cost.

After a few minutes passed—ones that seemed like hours to Merlin as he listened to the shallow breaths of the man he held—a new sound made its way to the Dragonlord's ears. Dragon wings.

Kilgharrah landed in the clearing, lacking the grace that Merlin had always attributed to his kin. He barely lacked the strength to stand, would he even be able to help?

Merlin pushed away his doubt, and stood, lowering Arthur to the grass beneath him.

With a sigh, Kilgharrah bent his head toward the king. "Young warlock, there is nothing you can do." His gold gaze bore down on Merlin.

The solemnity of the words brought tears back to Merlin's eyes. There's still time, he told himself. The warlock shook his head slightly to clear away the desperation that fought for control, "Kilgharrah, I need to get him to Avalon." Pausing, he took a deep breath to steady his voice and looked up. "He's my friend. I can't lose him." Isn't there anything that can be done? Can't you heal him?

Kilgharrah's eyes slipped to the unconscious king on the ground, and then back to Merlin. His golden orbs answered the questions hidden in the warlock's heart. "There is nothing I can do to save him. You must take heart that he will rise again… when Albion's need for him is greatest."

A wave of determination swept through him, power filling his voice, "I can't accept that. I have to try while he still lives." Merlin went back to kneel at Arthur's side, and took the king's hand in his. He sniffled, letting a small sob break the quiet that had fallen over the clearing. The warlock's hushed voice filled the field as he began speaking in gentle tones to the Once and Future King.

The dragon watched his kin's actions with sadness, an aged sighed releasing from his throat. "I will take you to Avalon, but I fear it will be all for naught, young warlock."

Merlin nodded in response, gratitude filling his gaze. Again, he hoisted the king's body into his arms.

"Come on you, prat," he said in Arthur's ear, "Help me out a bit, or I'll have to put you on a diet when we get back."

Merlin chuckled at his own jibe, wishing there was a response from the silent friend in his arms. Whatever it takes, he thought as he pulled him onto the dragon. The warlock looped his arms protectively around the king and a few seconds later, the dragon leapt into the air, flapping his mighty wings towards their destination.

The air around Avalon was thick with mist as Kilgharrah landed on the Isle. Merlin could feel it's Magic, the sheer power that came from and surrounded the land. It sang to him, calling for the prophesied Emrys. Hope began to burn in his chest.

"Alright, down you go." He settled Arthur onto the wet grass beside the dragon, making sure the king's chainmail was laid out comfortably underneath him. A soft moan escaped the warrior, and Merlin paused to wrap his long fingers around his friend's wrist; he was only partially comforted by the weak pulse beating beneath his fingertips.

"Arthur? Can you hear me?" Desperation leaked into the warlock's voice, though he fought hard to stop it. A brief smile flitted across his face. He was sure that if the king had been healthy and conscious, the familiar taunt of, "don't be such a girl, Merlin," would have made an appearance. After all, it was one of Arthur's favorite insults.

Another grunt pulled Merlin from his thoughts, as the blue eyes of the king fluttered open. "M'lin?"

"We're on the Isle." He answered, pulling the king's hand up to his own face, letting his lips form into a gentle smile as he choked back a sob, "Just stay with me for a few minutes longer."

Arthur's head nodded almost imperceptibly. A slight smile—though more of a grimace—combined with the strength in his eyes was enough to portray his thoughts: I'm not going anywhere. He wouldn't let death take him yet.

Merlin nodded back, and replaced the king's arm back over his chest. He stood, staring down at Arthur for a moment before looking towards the shore. He needed to summon the Sidhe, yet Merlin hesitated, suddenly unsure of the situation as worries swirled around his mind.

"You must hurry, young warlock." The rumbling voice of Kilgharrah came from behind him. "Use your staff."

Merlin nodded, letting out a soft chuckle at the dragon's prompting. He had heard the same remark from Arthur many times before. Some things would never change. He silently hoped that once Arthur was better, he wouldn't team up with Kilgharrah and decide to make his life any more difficult than it already was. There were plenty of idiotic moments in his past that neither man nor beast needed to remind him of.

Shaking his head, Merlin quickly refocused on his task. He stuck his left hand out into the air beside him and focused on the image of his staff. Within seconds, a slight glow appeared around the outstretched limb and the Sidhe staff materialized in his grasp. Merlin let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, looking back towards Kilgharrah. The dragon merely motioned his head toward the lake, content to guide his kin silently.

Merlin's gaze slid back to his king. Arthur's eyes were still open, filled with both the determination to stay awake, and the frustration of lacking the strength to move.

Merlin gave him a soft smile before turning back to the water. The warlock stepped forward, letting the small waves wash over his boots. It was cold, but it was a sensation that could easily be lost amidst the worry he held for his friend.

He raised his left hand and in one fluid movement thrust the staff into the lake waters beside him. Immediately, Merlin's magic roiled beneath his skin, telling him of an approaching power. It was then that blue fairy-like beings appeared from the mist, hovering in Merlin's line of vision.

"Emrys." A hushed whisper floated in the air around the three intruders.

"Emrys." The Sidhe closest to Merlin spoke over the whispers, the solidity of his voice overpowering the others. "You dare come to us? Why should we grant favors to those who would see the death of our kin?"

"I'm not here for myself, but for the Once and Future King." Merlin's voice resonated with a power that matched the Sidhe king's, "What I have done to your people is only what they have deserved. I make no apologies for protecting my king."

Arthur looked on, pushing away the feelings of betrayal that threatened a pain nearly as harsh as the shard of sword imbedded in his chest. Merlin was powerful, and he had hidden this part of himself from those who cared for him. Did he truly know the man who stood before him? Was this sorcerer and his bumbling servant one and the same? He was drowning in questions. It was all Arthur could do to stave back those thoughts as he watched the ancient creatures convene with one another.

Merlin spoke again, "I am here to request your help. I need to heal King Arthur, before it's too late."

"Again, Emrys, you ask too much." The small king shook his head, "The blow that was dealt to the young king was a mortal one, and therefore requires the Power of Life and Death. You have no life to exchange for his."

"I am willing to pay that price with my own." Merlin's left hand re-gripped his staff, portraying the anxiousness he held behind the calculating façade.

"You are Magic. You cannot be used as a sacrifice without tipping the precarious balance of this world."

"I am immortal!" Merlin's voice thundered in frustration, "I am the prophesied Emrys, protector and advisor of the Once and Future King. I am a High Priest of the Old Religion and Magic incarnate. I have what you require and demand that it be so!"

Arthur grunted from behind him, but Merlin refused to turn around.

"No… Merlin." The soft command reached his ears, but again, Merlin ignored it.

"My life for his." Merlin's eyes flashed dangerously.

"It cannot be done," the Sidhe responded. "A mortal life for an immortal one would disrupt the stability of the Old Religion. It is not possible."

Silence took over the isle. The mist and feelings of despair lay like thick blankets across the group of beings.

Merlin shook his head. "No." He took a steadying breath. "It must be done…" He looked up at the floating being before him, whispering so that his king would not hear the dangerous suggestion, "What about a mortal life for a life's immortality. Is there a way for immortality to be stripped from an immortal being?"

The Sidhe hesitated, thinking over the request as he met Merlin's demanding gaze with his own calculating stare. "It would be tricky… and dangerous, but I see no way in which it could be deemed impossible. Especially in the case of such a… destiny."

Merlin smiled at the Sidhe's quiet response, the first real smile that he had allowed on his face since before the battle of Camlann. His king could be saved. Arthur would return to Camelot, his people, his wife.

"Then it's settled. Will you broker such an exchange?" Merlin's voice returned to its normal volume.

"I will." The Sidhe king bowed his head in agreement, resignation flashing in his eyes.

Behind Merlin, Arthur's brow scrunched in pain and confusion. What exchange? Didn't the Sidhe say it was impossible? What was Merlin getting at? If that idiot was doing something stupid and putting his own life in jeopardy…

"Merlin." He breathed out the name of his friend, willing the strength in his voice to be enough to get the manservant to look at him. It was.

Merlin turned slowly, his eyes meeting Arthur's for only a split second before they moved to the grass. "Yes, Sire?"

"What… what does he mean?" Arthur took a breath, wincing slightly at the pain in his chest, "What exchange?"

Merlin was silent for a moment before pulling his lips into a tight, thin line, "I am doing what I have been destined to do, since the moment I met you. It is my duty to see that you live past this day."

It took a second for Arthur's mind to pick up what Merlin was saying. "No." He grunted, "You are not dying for me, you idiot." His breathing was more labored than before, forcing him to take a few shallow breaths before continuing, "You. Can't-t, I-" Arthur's voice broke off as his breathing hitched.

Merlin's eyes snapped back to his king's, alarm written across his face as he stepped from the water in a frantic gait.

"Arthur?"

Arthur opened his eyes—not realizing that he had closed them—to the worried face of his manservant. "...lin…"

Merlin sighed, relieved that the king was still hanging on. "I'm doing this Arthur, and you can't stop me." Quickly, he stood and faced the Sidhe, leaving Arthur with no time to protest his friend's actions. A rumble from his other side told the King that the dragon was also not thrilled with the plan his lord had come up with.

"I'm ready." Merlin tightened his grip on his staff, his knuckles white against the weapon and his stance tense, as if preparing for an attack.

Arthur watched as the Sidhe's eyes lit with the telltale gold of magic and as unintelligible and ancient words erupted from the small being. He quieted after another few moments, and then flew forward. The Sidhe's eyes shone with power, and what Arthur saw as… regret? He felt his heartbeat quicken, watching as the fairy rested his hand on the staff in Merlin's possession.

Immediately, the crystal orb on the top of the staff glowed a brilliant blue, and the air on the Isle became imbued with an electrifying energy. Merlin stiffened and his breath caught in his throat, the ancient magic of the Sidhe pulling at his life force. Merlin gritted his teeth and forced his own magic down as it roiled up to protect him against the invading power.

Arthur watched Merlin's back, as his manservant's knees suddenly gave out and Merlin sunk to the ground, his hands now both tightly wrapped around the gnarled staff.

"Merlin!" Worry strengthened the King's voice as he called out to his friend. What on earth was going on?

A pained moan erupted from the back of Merlin's throat. It was harder than he thought to make his magic lie down and take the painful assault from the intruding force. He felt each wave of magic as it coursed through his veins, feeling as though it was flaying him from the inside out. A strangled gasp and another wave of Sidhe magic brought one of Merlin's hands to rest on the ground. He panted as he fought to control his breathing.

Suddenly, the magic found it target, and Merlin realized how unprepared he had been for such a bargain. The Sidhe magic absorbed Merlin's essence in swift waves of pulsing magic, taking with it a life that would save his king. Merlin screamed, his back arching in pain as the magic ripped itself from his body, leaving him gasping and moaning on the dewed grass of the Isle, his staff laying on the ground beside him, still in a white-knuckle grip.

The Sidhe king flew down to Merlin's eye level and focused on the blue mist of magic hovering above Merlin. More ancient words filled the air, combining with the moans of the warlock and the labored breathing of his king. The Sidhe once again touched the staff; the blue orb glowing an even brighter blue than before, as the magical mist was absorbed through its surface.

Arthur was struggling to keep his eyes open, the exhaustion and pain in his body were slowly overcoming the promises he made to the warlock. He strained to watch as the Sidhe hovered close to Merlin's ear, only catching the end of the magical being's conversation, "Now it is up to you to perform the spell, Emrys."

Merlin's head still hung towards the ground, propped up by his hands and knees as he struggled to combat the sudden loss of energy. Slowly, he rose to one knee, using the staff to help him up the rest of the way. His eyes blazed with determination as he came towards his waning king. There was an ancient power in the way he held himself, one that made Arthur fleetingly wonder if Merlin was hiding a noble bloodline as well as magic.

Arthur gasped as the shard in his chest caused another wave of pain to attack his senses. His time was running out. He grunted as Merlin knelt beside him, suddenly unsure of the stranger above him. Merlin's eyes were flecked with gold, a power that he'd never attributed to the manservant Arthur had befriended for the last ten years.

A flicker of fear passed through Arthur's expression, causing Merlin to hesitate. Pain and guilt flashed in the warlock's eyes.

Arthur was scared of him.

The thought startled Merlin, and for a moment, he forgot his task, until a jolt of powerfully overwhelming magic brought him back to reality. He gritted his teeth against the uncomfortable sensation and looked Arthur directly in the eyes. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Sire. And I know you've seen your fair share of pain at the hands of magic, but I swear to you, I am your servant…" It was becoming harder for Merlin to hold back the Sidhe's magic, but he knew he had to finish his thought. "I am your servant, till the day I die." He grunted, readjusting the grip on his staff as his right hand hovered over Arthur's armored chest. "Long. Live. The King." And with those words, Merlin's eyes flashed gold.

A wave of magic crashed into Arthur's body, instantly lifting the tightness from his chest and soothing the deep ache within. It blanketed him with its comforting presence. His eyes sought those of his manservant's, but Merlin's were shut, his lips moving to form the silent words of the spell.

Suddenly, Merlin gasped, his body shuddering.

A blinding white light filled Arthur's vision and everything faded to black.