A/N: So, this happened. Blame it on too much angst. Set in season 3.

So it had come to this. After all these years, Merlin had thought it nearly impossible that someone in Camelot would find out about his magic. And now, because of one simple slip up, he was going to be killed for it.

Executed, in the public square, by Uther's orders. This time, they hadn't mattered, what excuses he and Gaius were able to come up with.

Things like that never mattered when Uther's son was involved, or when Morgana was, and this time, they both were. Morgana was responsible for telling Uther exactly who Merlin was after finding out herself because of Merlin's foolish mistake.

There had been a certain glee in her hooded eyes ever since Merlin's "trial." A trial which had been such a farce, Merlin was surprised Uther even bothered with one at all.

Perhaps it was at Arthur's insistence.

Morgana told Uther that Merlin was a powerful sorcerer, planning to get close to Arthur and then kill him. Never mind that Merlin had several years to do so, and had never once laid a hand on Prince Arthur. Once Uther made up his mind to believe something, nothing could shake it.

And that was how Merlin ended up here, in the dungeons of Camelot, on the night of his execution.

But he wasn't sure how Arthur had ended up standing just outside his cell, staring at him with such hurt in those blue eyes.

The cell was moist, slime dripping down the stone walls around him, and the straw on the floor was damp with the blood of a previous captive. Several guards stood just at the end of the hall, shifting nervously and avoiding Merlin's gaze. They were friends, once, and Merlin would have liked to think they would always be so.

Because it was unnecessary to hide his magic now, and because there was nothing that could be done about it until tomorrow, Merlin used the opportunity to make his accommodations more comfortable. The bed in the corner was suddenly made of the softest feathers, and the straw on the floor vanished.

Arthur's eyes widened minutely at the display of sorcery, and Merlin absentmindedly wondered exactly how much he thought Merlin capable of. This was not the first time, over the last few days, that Merlin was required to use his sorcery, as proof, and yet Arthur looked just as startled as ever.

Then the prince sighed, lowering his eyes and running a hand through his blonde hair. For a moment, he looked as though he might say something, might begin yelling, and Merlin braced himself. But the young prince said nothing, only watched his servant warily as if he thought Merlin would disappear at any second.

If only.

They stared at each other for a full minute in silence before Merlin finally decided he needed to repair this. Needed to let Arthur know the truth, needed to make sure he didn't go to his death with Arthur hating him.

After all, he didn't have much time.

"Arthur, I-" The prince cut him off.

"I can't believe this. I've known you all this time. You're too much of an idiot to do something like this. And now I'm told you're a sorcerer who wants me dead?" He laughed, a laugh that Merlin had never heard from the young prince before, low and at the same time, hysterical, and it scared the warlock.

"Arthur, that isn't true." Merlin stated calmly, though he didn't feel calm, gripping the bars frantically as sweat beaded his brows. His heart was thumping like a wild bird in his chest, and he took a deep breath before continuing, "You know it isn't."

"Then tell me what is!" Arthur shouted, causing the guards and the other prisoner in the dungeons to jump at the sound. A man accused of killing his wife, to be beheaded tonight, along with the warlock. Amazingly, the man's crimes paled in comparison to Merlin's own.

The guards came running, swords at the ready, as if they thought that after all this time, Merlin would be capable of killing their prince.

Two sides of the same coin.

Arthur ordered the guards back to their posts with annoyed gesture before turning his attention back to Merlin. "Or are you going to keep lying to me like you have been since I met you?" he demanded, voice icy.

"I... couldn't tell you. You know that. I wanted to, every day, to tell you everything, but in the beginning I was afraid you would turn me in for using magic and have me killed. Now..."

Arthur leaned forward, lips pressed into a thin line. "Now, what?"

Merlin swallowed. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "Now I wanted to tell you, to really tell you the truth, because Arthur, there are things you need to know that I can't explain without telling you about my magic. Morgana-"

"I don't care about her!" Arthur snapped, surprising Merlin. "I told you everything. I trusted you with all of my secrets, with Gwen, with my own life, and you never trusted me. How long have you been using magic right under my nose?"

Merlin sighed, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead. "I trust you, Arthur. But your first duty is to Camelot. And it's illegal to practice magic in Camelot. I didn't want to put you in that position, where you had to choose between me, or your father. That is why I didn't tell you, even when we became close enough that I knew I could."

"Yes, well I'm bloody well stuck with it now, aren't I?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin paled. "What are you talking about?"

"My father has ordered your execution, Merlin." He swiped a hand across his face, and for the first time Merlin noticed the creases in his forehead, lines of exhaustion that hadn't been there last month. "I tried to reason with him, tried to make him see that you weren't capable of... everything they're accusing you of, but my father is convinced, and he won't listen to me."

Despite hearing that it had done no good, Merlin was touched that Arthur had stood up for him. Especially against his own father. It was not something Arthur did often, unless he truly believed in whatever it was he was fighting for.

Behind them, the guards warned Arthur that he only had a few more minutes. Arthur turned around and awarded them with his hardest glare, and they quickly drew back, apologizing. Strange; Prince Arthur had never been limited on how long he could be with a prisoner that Merlin could remember.

"He said you had enchanted me into believing only the best about you," Arthur snorted, though Merlin hadn't asked for Uther's response. He thought the answer quite obvious, given that he was still in the dungeons.

The idea of Merlin enchanting Arthur to believe that was laughable, but neither were laughing now.

Merlin tensed. "You don't...believe that, do you?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "Should I? Of course I don't. If I were enchanted, I would think you were the best damn servant I could have had, and we both know my opinion on that, don't we?"

Merlin hadn't thought he would laugh again before his death, but he did, at that. It was a hoarse sound, slipping gutturally past his throat.

Arthur did not, his expression turning pale and grave. "Merlin, I'm to...that is, my father is making me..." He couldn't say the words, couldn't force them past his aching throat. He glanced up at Merlin in that moment, eyes filling.

"You're to execute me," Merlin said blandly, forcing down his emotions, and Arthur nodded, miserable.

"He says this will help me be rid of the enchantment, will make me realize that you can never hurt me again or something, though I think it's a punishment for going against him. Merlin, I...I don't think I can." Arthur looked lost for the first time that Merlin could remember since facing his dead mother and hearing all that she had to accuse Uther of, struggling to know what was right and what was not.

Merlin swallowed hard. "Arthur-"

"Merlin, I don't think you understand. My father is going to have you executed in the city square, in a quarter of an hour, in front of everyone, for sorcery. You have to give me something I can use to help you. Maybe...maybe he'll allow you to go in exile, maybe..." He began to pace outside the cell, lost in thought. His blond eyebrows were scrunched tightly together, betraying his worry, and at any other moment Merlin might have felt happy, seeing such obvious concern from his friend, when Arthur always worked so dutifully to hide it.

Merlin swallowed hard, grasping the metal bars of his cell in desperation. "Arthur, you know he won't change his mind. But you have to know... I didn't choose to become a sorcerer."

For a moment, Arthur looked as though he were going to protest, and Merlin ploughed on before he could.

"It's not something I could have chosen, just as having magic is not something anyone can choose or cast aside like a cloak." His voice rose a little, willing the words to get through, willing Arthur to understand. "I was born like this. I'm not an enemy of Camelot just for that reason, am I? Because I was born with magic in me, something I couldn't help? If I hadn't learned how to harness it, how to use it properly, I would have been found and killed instantly, without mercy. Your father has used magic himself, countless times, and yet he condemns all others who try to do so."

"I know," Arthur said tiredly, and Merlin had never heard him sounding so defeated. "He did not like being reminded of that fact." Arthur slumped against the wall, as if all his will to stay strong had faded with Merlin's words. Perhaps it had.

"Arthur-"

Arthur's voice cracked, betraying him, as he interrupted. "I'm still angry with you. You're a sorcerer, an enemy of Camelot, and you've been lying to me since the beginning! I thought I could trust you, and here I learn that you're a traitor to my father's kingdom. And the fact that you had no choice but to learn magic, to save yourself from death, only shows me that it is evil, even if those who wield it might not be. But I have to know. Were you using your magic against Camelot? Against...me? Do you hate Uther and want him to suffer like Morgana says? Were you ever really my friend?" His voice broke on that last word, and he found that he couldn't meet the servant's eyes.

It was the first time he had called Merlin 'friend,' and the gravity of the word was not lost on either of them.

Merlin swallowed back the lump in his throat before answering, hearing the sound of approaching footsteps and knowing that their time would come to an end soon.

"Arthur, I've always been your friend. Well, maybe not when we met and you threw a mace at my head, but after..." No, this wasn't what he wanted to say, dammit. "I've only ever used my magic for you, Arthur, only for you." He made himself go on, telling himself not to take to heart the look of horror on Arthur's face at the thought of vile sorcery being used to benefit him. "And I've only ever used it to protect you, and the kingdom that you will one day rule." His voice cracked at that last word.

Well, maybe that wasn't true, maybe there were times when he'd used his magic for other...things, but he had never purposely used it against Arthur and Camelot.

He could only hope that Arthur believed in his loyalty, could only hope that Arthur trusted him. The thought of losing Arthur's trust, of losing Arthur's friendship, was worse than whatever death Uther could give him, whatever torture he might be forced to endure.

Even if the worst of that torture would be knowing that it came at Arthur's unwilling hand.

Two sides of the same coin. The dragon's words were almost mocking, now.

"Arthur-," he tried again, knowing it was useless.

Arthur held up a gloved hand, and Merlin fell silent. "I'm still angry, but I...dammit, Merlin. I know I don't tell you often, hell, I never do, but all those things I say about you being an idiot and clumsy and the worst servant I've ever had..." He took a deep breath, shaky, steadying himself against the bars. "I am not the best with emotions."

Merlin struggled to hold back a snort at this confession. He had a feeling it would not be appreciated just then.

He briefly wondered how he could be so callous, so flippant about this. He was going to die soon, and all he could think about was Arthur. How was the dragon's prophecy to be fulfilled now, with Merlin's death?

Arthur continued, not noticing the sudden hitch in Merlin's breathing. "...But I want you to know that I've always thought of you as a friend, Merlin. As my...best friend. You've always been there for me, even when I was treating you like an ass. You got yourself into trouble for me, and you'd follow me anywhere, no matter what the danger. No one's ever been there for me like that, and I wanted to...thank you, Merlin."

Merlin swallowed down the sudden emotion bubbling up inside him. "Didn't know you had that in you," he said finally, because something needed to break this unbearable silence.

Arthur didn't respond. He leaned his head against the far wall, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath that caused his Adam's apple to bob tellingly.

Merlin glanced back up at his closest friend and saw the tightness of his jaw, the shadow behind his eyes. "Arthur..." he tried, reaching a hand out through the bars. Arthur clasped his hand in his own gloved one and they stood there for a moment in silence. Then, "Thank you."

"For what?" Arthur snapped. "I haven't done anything. I can't even..."

Merlin gave his hand a slight squeeze. "Thank you."

The guards appeared then, carrying torches and looks of chagrin on their faces as they spoke, "Prince Arthur, it is time."

And, for the first time since hearing that he was to die, Merlin allowed a single tear to trickle down his cheek.

The keeper of the keys stepped forward then, extending his arm to unlock Merlin's cell, but Arthur grabbed the key ring from the man, muttering something under his breath that Merlin couldn't quite catch.

Then the prince was unlocking Merlin's cell, pushing open the door to grab hold of the warlock with unnecessary gentleness, and Merlin felt a flutter of hope that was quickly quelled.

Arthur gripped his arm, pulling Merlin from the cell. The guards stepped forward to grab the prisoner, and Arthur glared until they stepped back.

The warlock and the prince left the dungeons together, as the great dragon had once said they would do everything.