I know many of you were hoping for a longer story, with multiple chapters, but I had originally planned it to be only a one-shot, which turned into a two-shot, and now has five chapters. However, this is how I wrote it, but apologies if you were hoping for more. Perhaps someday in the future I will manage to actually write a long-ish story about Merlin, but it is not this day! I hope you have enjoyed reading this story! I sure have had fun writing it!

Arthur waited until he was certain Merlin was completely asleep, before approaching the fire and sleeping servant in complete silence. He looked down at the raven-haired man for a long moment, before stepping beside him to slide into a sitting position leant against the rocky wall of the cave opposite to Merlin, and contemplated just what exactly had happened to lead his life to this point. After nearly an hour, the warlock's unconscious finally seems to become aware that something is not quite right, and he began to stir.

Merlin blinked blearily, looking with some confusion upon the king before realizing that, no, this was not just another pointless hunting trip with Arthur. It took his sleep-muddled mind a moment to recall what exactly had happened over the course of the last several days, yet the instant it caught up to him, he was on his feet. Glancing to the entrance of the cave, he calculated his chances of reaching it before Arthur did, and then decided to try for it anyway.

The warlock bolted, but the king was on him before he could take two steps. Arthur tackled him easily and pinned him swiftly. Merlin allowed his body to go limp, and managed to rasp, "Please..."

Arthur's weight, combined with his own overwhelming fear made it difficult for the warlock to draw sufficient breath to speak. The king eased up a bit, allowing his captive to breathe easier. Merlin closed his eyes and activated the protection spell, tying it quickly to Kilgarrah's life force, before opening his eyes to speak with his king once more.

"Please, Sire," he whispered desperately. "Please make it swift. Don't drag me back to Camelot to burn, I don't want Gaius to have to witness that... Please..." he trailed off and tried to steel himself for the death blow. Being Emrys had many perks, one of which was that no mortal blade could end his life, rather like Morgana. Unfortunately, Arthur just so happened to wield Excalibur, the blade Merlin himself had convinced Kilgarrah to forge in his breath for the king.

Thus, Merlin was under no delusions that had him surviving this encounter. He could only hope Arthur had enough mercy within his heart to make his treacherous servant's death swift and relatively painless. The next words from the king stopped his heart for a moment.

"No" Arthur stated, his voice firm and brooking no room for argument. He rolled to the side, permitting Merlin to sit up if he so desired. Merlin's eyes shot open, pleading and fearful. "Please, Arthur, don't do this!" Arthur's eyes narrowed, and Merlin froze in place. In a low, deadly tone, Arthur nearly snarled, "I said 'no', Merlin. You will return to Camelot with me."

At this, all hope fled Merlin's heart, and he bowed his head in abject despair. The king had not finished speaking, however, and his next words caused the warlock's head to shoot up once more. "You will return to Camelot with me, and there we can discuss your new position." Merlin was certain that he had misheard.

"M-My new p-position, Sire?"

The king grinned. "Well, I can't just keep a dragonlord sorcerer as my manservant, now can I?"

Merlin could only stare at him in blind shock. Arthur reached over to give him a friendly shove, but when Merlin flinched away, the king flung his head back in exasperation. "Oh for the love of-Merlin! I am not going to kill you! I will not have you executed, I will not have you imprisoned, or banished, or even thrown in the stocks!" He dropped his gaze for a moment, then looked into his friend's eyes earnestly, pleading with him to believe his words.

"I am not my father, Merlin. Heaven knows how many times you have tried to convince me of that. Please, believe me now. I won't, I can't, kill my best friend. How could you be a traitor, or deserving of death in any way? I have no idea how many times you have saved my life, and my kingdom, but I would wager it comes close to the number of taverns Gwaine has found his way into over the course of his very alcohol-oriented life."

Merlin couldn't help but chuckle along with Arthur at that, though the laughter quickly turned to heart-wrenching sobs as he tried to comprehend this latest turn of events. Arthur hesitantly and awkwardly put an arm around his shoulders and tried to comfort him after a time. "Come on, Merlin, it's not that bad. I know it must be hard to learn to learn that you will be forced to lose the amazing and honorable job of washing my socks, but you will survive, I am certain." They both grinned rather shakily at that, and, encouraged, Arthur continued. "After all, Camelot's first Court Sorcerer shouldn't be crying over his promotion!"

Merlin's smile grew wider, and he gained his composure back swiftly. In the sincerest and most grateful tone Arthur had ever heard Merlin use in proximity to him, the warlock said but two words. "Thank you."

The king ruffled his friend's hair affectionately, then pulled him into a brotherly hug, speaking fervently as he did so. "I believe it is I who should be thanking you, my friend."