Blahblahblah I'm bad at updating. I've had a lot of real-life stuff going on lately so it's been a while.

Day after day Merlin went back to Arthur's chambers in the morning. Each time it was the same. The king sat waiting for the warlock to arrive and would offer breakfast, a plate of food on the table untouched, and each time Merlin would decline. Then they'd talk. Some stories were harder to tell than others but Arthur always listened with an openness and understanding that he as a prince, and even as a king never possessed.

When the day finally came to tell of Uther's demise at Merlin's own hands, Arthur stood up and silently left his chamber. Gwaine came in and escorted the warlock back to Gaius where he curled up in his room, which he was now allowed to sleep in once again, and cried.

Days passed and Arthur didn't call for Merlin and the ex-servant began to feel that he had pushed the king too far. There was a reason that he had kept all his secrets for so long, and every day of silence from Arthur was another invasive thought of the terrible things that his friend would do to him now knowing what he did.

Nighttimes were difficult. Merlin dreamt of chopping blocks and pyres in the courtyard, his friends standing around with unpitying eyes as he calmly stepped up to his fate. It got so bad that Gaius took to slipping sleeping draughts into Merlin's food. They'd work for the first part of the night but eventually the dreams came and the warlock would wake up to his mentor gently shaking him out of his horror-filled sleep.

"I shouldn't have told him, Gaius." Merlin said one day. His eyes were dark and listless, and grey circles had begun to appear underneath, making him look sickly.

"He hates me now." The warlock moaned into his hands. Years of silent guilt ate away at him, and Merlin knew he deserved it. He had tried to be there for Arthur after Uther's passing, as much as a servant could be there for his master, but he could see the king's own guilt buried underneath the tough exterior.

After all, Arthur had been the one to contact The Great Dragoon in the first place. Even though Merlin knew he was at fault, the newly-crowned king had felt like there was no one to blame but himself.

"He doesn't hate you, Merlin. He just needs time." Gaius said soothingly, not looking up from his work.

Merlin looked away and didn't say anything else. Anxiety and guilt swirling in his stomach.

Fire. There was fire.

Hot, burning flames that choked Merlin and licked at his skin painfully. Through the smoky haze, he could see Arthur. The king stood stoically, crown perched on top of his golden locks. Icy blue eyes hard and unfeeling surveyed the scene in front of him with a cold disinterest.

"Arthur please!" Merlin shouted with burning lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Tears stung his eyes and whether they were from the thick smoke or the crushing sense of betrayal that he felt, the warlock wasn't sure.

Arthur turned away from his servant, looking off in the distance instead.

The flames grew taller, tinting everything with their yellow glow. Thick ropes bound Merlin to a pole behind his back and he couldn't move.

"Arthur help me!" He heaved but the king didn't react.

"Merlin!" A voice called through the flames roaring in Merlin's ears. He looked around confused. He knew that voice.

"Arthur?" He called back. But the blond man still looked away, mouth drawn in a stern line. He looked so much like Uther.

"Merlin wake up!" The king's voice echoed again.

With a gasp, Merlin struggled to sit up in his bed. He could feel cold sweat soaking his shirt and his heart was beating like he'd been running through the castle halls carrying all of Arthur's armor at once. Blue eyes looked around wildly and magic surged through his body, ready to defend him at a moment's notice.

"Merlin, you need to calm down." In the darkness, a familiar face came into focus.

"Arthur?" Merlin croaked with a dry throat. The king looked frightened.

"You were shouting in your sleep and thrashing around. I thought you were going to reopen your wound." He said softly.

The warlock ran a hand through sweaty hair. It shook.

Sometimes his dreams weren't too bad. The ones where he was beheaded were rather calm, but the ones with the pyre terrified him. Burning alive was no way to die.

"I'm sorry." He breathed. Then, remembering that the king should hate him, Merlin suddenly bowed his head. "Is something the matter, sire?"

"Er-" The blond man looked around, "I just... I've had a lot of time to think and I... I just wanted to say that I forgive you."

Merlin blinked. Arthur forgave him? Just like that?

"Arthur I... I don't know... How?" He asked.

The king half-shrugged. "It wasn't you that killed my father. It was Morgana's pendant, as you said."

Biting his bottom lip and breathing heavily through his nose Merlin looked down further, unable to meet his king's eyes even in the darkness.

"Merlin look at me." Arthur insisted.

"I have no right to."

"No Merlin, you do. Now look at me." He grabbed Merlin's chin and forced the ex-servant to look at his face.

"I forgive you." Arthur repeated.

Tears threatened to spill in the corner of Merlin's eyes as they looked into Arthur's.

After a moment, the king released his grip on the warlock's chin.

"Um. Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"Yes Merlin?" The king answered.

"What are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?"

"...shut up, Merlin."

And then Arthur was gone, leaving Merlin alone.

For the first time in a long time, he smiled and laid back down, falling soon into a deep, dreamless sleep.

"MER-LIN!" Arthur's voice rang through the halls. It was early but the castle was already bustling with activity, besides, they'd all heard the king calling for his wayward servant before.

Clinking and hurried footsteps echoed through the halls a moment later as Merlin hurried towards the kings chambers.

"I'm here sire, I'm sorry-I overslept." The warlock panted, rounding the corner and skidding into the room to find the king already dressed in his ceremonial clothes and polished gold crown sitting atop his head. A young boy, no later than in his late teens was bustling around. Arthur's new servant most likely-well one of them.

Arthur snorted in disbelief.

Merlin stood in the chambers, not as a servant anymore. He was dressed in armor and a right red cloak with a golden dragon embroidered onto it. Around his neck was a red piece of cloth dutifully tied in the normal fashion.

"Arthur do I really need to wear this? I feel ridiculous!" He moaned, gesturing to his outfit.

The king smirked. "Yes, Merlin. It's tradition. I keep telling you that you need to dress in a more dignified fashion and not run around in those rags."

"They're not rags, they're my clothes. My mum made most of them!" The warlock said hotly. "They're much better than... Than this!"

Again, he gestured to his new getup. The armor was lighter than that of the knights and the plate only covered key areas of his body, but it was still heavy and cumbersome.

"I could always make you wear the uh, ceremonial servant's outfit. Remember the one? With the lovely feathered hat-" Arthur said, his eyes twinkling.

"You wouldn't dare." Merlin hissed.

The king shrugged. "If you keep complaining like girl, Merlin, I most definitely would."

Suddenly serious, Arthur shot a glance at his friend.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Merlin said, trying to sound brave, though his legs felt weak.

"Then let's go."

The walked to the throne room in silence, the only sound of Merlin's armor clanking and their twin footsteps on the stone.

His mother was there. Merlin smiled at her and she smiled back. Her graying hair was pulled back into an intricate braid and woven with flowers and she was wearing a simple yet elegant dress, and even though her lack of jewelry or other adornment was obvious in a room filled with nobles, she looked beautiful.

After Merlin was pronounced "good as new" by Gaius and some arrangements were made, Arthur, Merlin, and some of the knights had ridden to Ealdor. After a tense conversation covering her son's injury, excluding the details of how close he had come to death, Merlin told her of his new title. Though there was little to pack, Hunith had grown accustomed to her small house. She stared at the dirt floor lovingly and ran her hands over the old wooden walls that did little to block the winter winds and spring rain.

Finally, with a few essential items, Merlin managed to get his mother on the horse he had brought for her. She kept glancing back at the little town as they rode away and Merlin's heart sank. He had hoped that she would be thrilled to leave her peasant life behind but as they rode in silence the warlock saw his mother grow more and more sullen.

It all changed when she saw the house that Arthur and Merlin had picked for her. Technically, it fell under Merlin's estates, but he would be remaining in Camelot for the most part.

Knowing that Hunith would never want to live in an actual manner or the gods forbid, a castle, Merlin had picked out an empty house that was only about half a days ride from Camelot. It was larger than anything he had ever imagined owning, though small by the king's standards.

"Oh. Merlin. It's lovely!" Hunith said, her eyes lighting up at the gardens that the warlock had enchanted to grow all of his mother's favorite flowers, regardless of the season.

"Mum-this is your-our home now. I can't force you to stay here but please give it some time. You'll be much happier here than in Ealdor and it's out of Cendrid's kingdom as well." Merlin explained when they dismounted.

"I... I couldn't possibly live here. I'd feel like a servant in my own house!" She laughed but no one missed the way her face lit up when they walked inside. It was spacious, and would be warm in the winter. A young girl in a plain dress appeared almost out of the walls.

"My lady." She bowed.

"Oh goodness, hello. What's your name?" Hunith asked, startled.

"Cassandra, my lady." The girl answered with another bow. "Merlin has told me a lot about you, my lady."

"Hello Cassy." Merlin greeted the girl. She blushed and bowed once more.

Cassy had been a servant at the castle but an accident with a kitchen knife had left her with little mobility in her right hand. She could still preform her duties, but slowly and with less precision than the royal standard allowed. Merlin, knowing his mother would object to anyone else serving her, had stepped in before she could be fired.

"You'll come to visit then?" Hunith eyed her son and the king.

That settled it. Merlin laughed. "Of course mother, whenever I can."

As she stood amongst the rest of the court, Merlin's heart soared.

Arthur proceeded past the crowd to sit on his throne, but Merlin stayed by the door.

When the king took his seat everyone quieted down and all eyes turned to the raven-haired man standing by the door.

Merlin stood up tall and tried to imagine himself having a commanding look about him.

"Approach the throne." Arthur said in a loud tone.

Keeping his head up and straightening his shoulders, Merlin walked forward. Gwaine smiled brightly at him while the rest of the knights stood in formation with practiced blank expressions, though Merlin didn't miss the little smile that pulled at Leon's mouth as he walked past.

"Kneel." Arthur commanded and the warlock dropped to one knee, bowing his head.

"Merlin. You are aware that practicing magic breaks the laws of Camelot, the laws that my father before me put into place."

"Yes." Merlin answered softly.

"And you, knowing these laws, willingly practiced magic in Camelot?"

"Yes."

"You did this, knowing full well that if caught, the penalty would be death?"

"Yes." His response was barely audible.

"Why?" The king asked.

"I only ever used my magic to protect Camelot and the people living within its borders." Merlin lifted his head slightly to look Arthur in the eyes.

Arthur's mouth twitched at the corners, lifting ever so slightly.

"Upon hearing your testimony for the past weeks, I have passed my judgement. Merlin is innocent of all crimes. My father's laws no longer have a place here in Camelot. In addition, in recognition of all the good Merlin has done for Camelot and his unwavering devotion to the Pendragon name, he will from this point on be named as Court Sorcerer of Camelot."

Some of the nobles standing in the room gasped, obviously the word of Merlin's magic had not yet reached their ears. Arthur had done a good job keeping everything in secret apparently. Merlin had to hold back a snort at the king's fondness of a spectacle.

"Do you, Merlin Emrys, swear to protect the Pendragon name, Camelot, and its people?" Arthur asked.

Now, Merlin's voice was strong. "I do."

"Then I, King Arthur of Camelot, dub thee, Merlin Emrys, Last of the Dragonlords, Court Sorcerer and Duke of Camelot."

Arthur touched both of Merlin's shoulders with a sword as he spoke.

"Rise."

Standing up slowly, Merlin stood to face his king. Arthur was smiling-no, beaming. His blue eyes were shining brightly.

Returning the smile, Merlin walked over to the throne and assumed his position next to his friend, finally no longer a servant having to lurk behind the throne and out of sight. As Arthur took his seat, everything suddenly felt right and Morgana bursting in the throne room herself couldn't have brought Merlin down.

That's the end folks! I might sort of build off of this story for future fanfictions but for now I hoped you all enjoyed reading and didn't get too annoyed by the terrible updating skills! Thanks everyone who followed and favorited and all that good stuff! If you want more Merlin stories comment or send me a private message.

-Adelaide