Here we are: the final chapter. Thank you to those who have stuck by me, despite it taking a while to update each time. I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

"Why?" Merlin kept his voice low, making sure the guards couldn't hear him.

Clarissa looked up at him from the floor. She had only been locked up a few hours, but already her hair hung in loose strands over her face and her clothes were dirty and torn. Merlin wondered how hard she had fought the guards and whether she had attempted to use any of his stolen power.

Merlin had felt it, lying there tied to the bed. Her ritual may have failed but she had succeeded in drawing some of his magic. Even now, when she stared up at him, he could see the echoes of that power in her eyes.

"You've never been powerless," she said, venom in her voice, "you've never known what it is like to be ignored, to be pushed around and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Haven't I?" Merlin responded coolly. If it was just about the magic, he might have forgiven her. But she had turned him against Arthur, against those he cared about. He would never forgive himself for giving into the hatred that the pendant had caused and couldn't find it in his heart to forgive her either. Freya had been terrified of being a monster: Clarissa appeared to embrace it.

"You've been in Camelot long enough to know that I don't get what I want: I don't click my fingers and get my way. Magic is a gift, Clarissa, it's not something to be used to make everyone treat you with respect. That respect can only be earned in the traditional sense."

"Stop pretending, Merlin." Clarissa stood up, her hands clenched around the bars and a dangerous smile on her face. "I didn't create any of the feelings in you. The pendant isn't that powerful. It just brings your deepest feelings to the surface. If you weren't frustrated, if you didn't hold that anger in your heart, nothing would have happened. Stop blaming me for your own flaws."

Merlin swallowed. He refused to step back though, refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had got to him. He had been afraid that was the case. Between Arthur's treatment of him (although Merlin had to admit it had been better since the prince had admitted he had been right about Sigan) and allowing himself to love only to lose Freya, there had been frustration brewing in his heart. How could there not be: he had a destiny and yet Arthur still overlooked everything Merlin did.

But he wouldn't act on those feelings, not now, not ever. Merlin comforted himself with knowing it was his actions that defined him, not his thoughts. As long as he kept those frustrations to himself, he was still a good person. He was still worthy to serve Arthur.

"Maybe you're right," Merlin said quietly, his voice shaking, "but that didn't give you any right to try and take my magic. To force me to deal with those emotions."

"You could have just loved me."

Clarissa stepped back from the bars and Merlin shook his head. He could see it now; she wasn't sorry in the least. There was no regret, no remorse over what she had done, the friendship she had betrayed. Merlin knew none of her feelings had been real, but to see it so plainly hurt.

Was he doomed to never love?

"Time's up," a voice said. Merlin glanced at the guard and nodded. He knew Arthur had arranged for him to be allowed to visit the prisoner. It had helped. Seeing clearly that Clarissa didn't care and that she would do it again – do anything – to get power meant Merlin knew there was no saving her now.

And that wasn't his fault.

"Goodbye, Clarissa," he said, his voice heavy. She just stared at him and Merlin walked away, his heart as heavy as his voice.

He shivered when he reached the top of the stairs and knew that he needed to see the sun and feel its warming rays. He moved through the corridors and didn't stop until he had reached the courtyard and was sitting down on the steps. The courtyard was a sun trap and Merlin closed his eyes, allowing the warmth to spread through his body and calm his racing heart.

Knowing that Clarissa was right and that the emotions had been his and his alone left him with a problem. He knew he couldn't bury them again or there would be no telling when they would resurface to cause destruction. But he didn't know how to address them – he could hardly tell Arthur he was a prat and expect the prince to take him seriously, nor could he tell the truth about Freya.

"Hello, Merlin."

Merlin looked up and smiled – a genuine one for the first time in days – at seeing Gwen hesitantly sit down next to him. The girl looked at him, concerned.

"Are you alright? Arthur said-," she trailed off, blushing, but warmth exploded in Merlin and this time, it was nothing to do with the sun.

Arthur had told Gwen. Arthur had asked her to come out here because he knew he couldn't do it himself.

He cared.

Merlin wondered if knowing that, knowing that Arthur valued their friendship, would be enough to calm his turmoil of emotions.

"I'm sorry," Gwen continued, resting a hand on his arm. "I know you liked her."

Merlin saw his chance.

"I think I loved her," he murmured. He wasn't talking about Clarissa though. He had the chance to talk about a girl he had lost and Gwen never needed to know he was thinking of Freya.

Before he said anything else, Gwen put her arms around him. For once, she didn't say anything, but just held him. Merlin forced himself to think of Freya, to think of his loss and pain and then release it into the safety of Gwen's hold. No matter what Clarissa said, he wasn't alone.

After a while, he drew back and wiped his eyes. There was no judgement in Gwen's eyes and Merlin smiled watery at her.

"Arthur's lucky to have you," he said. He was rewarded by a brilliant blush and Gwen's fingers knotting themselves together as she refused to meet his eye. Merlin nudged her gently.

"It's alright," he said, "you can't help who you fall in love with, even if he is a prat."

"Merlin!"

Gwen continued to look away for a few moments. When she turned and put her hand on Merlin's cheek, he almost overbalanced he was so surprised.

"Tomorrow morning," Gwen said softly. "Morgana said you can come to her chambers. Watch in private. Not watch at all. But you don't have to be in the courtyard."

Merlin sighed heavily. He had been trying not to think about the execution. He took Gwen's hand in his own and slowly drew it away from his cheek, clasping it tight.

"I do," he said. "I have to be there. I have to…" He had to see it but he had no idea how to put that into words. He had liked Clarissa, even if it wasn't love, and he refused to turn away at the end. She had betrayed him, but that didn't mean he was going to do the same to her.

Gwen nodded, although Merlin wasn't sure that she understood.

They sat quietly for a while, both absorbed in their own thoughts before Gwen stood.

"I should return to Morgana," she said, a hint of regret in her voice. It had been a long time since the two of them had been granted any time alone. Merlin nodded and also stood.

"I guess Arthur will be hungry," he muttered, realising he had never brought the prince his breakfast and it was past lunchtime.

He shivered as they moved into the castle, the cool walls appearing darker than usual in comparison to the outside. But Gwen didn't leave his side as they headed towards the kitchen and by the time he reached Arthur's chambers with a laden plate, Merlin was in better spirits than he had been in weeks. He pushed open Arthur's door.

"Ah, Merlin."

The prince was sitting at his table, studying some reports. Merlin slid the tray on without apology, knowing he was late. As he drew away though, Arthur reached out and caught his wrist. Merlin started, only to find the prince was studying him closely. He let go after a moment's scrutiny with a satisfied expression.

"Guinevere found you, then."

It wasn't a question, but Merlin nodded. The fact that Arthur knew just confirmed his suspicions. Arthur had been the one to ask her to come.

"Thank you," Merlin said, sincerely. Arthur merely waved a hand at him and grunted. Merlin grinned as he set about tidying up. He wasn't the only one with emotions he couldn't express, but at least he was holding back the negatives. Arthur couldn't express the positives and Merlin was determined to change that.

MMM

"Come on, Merlin! Keep up!"

Arthur's shout carried back to him on the breeze but Merlin merely smiled and continued at a slow walk, enjoying the tranquillity of the forest. He fondled his horse's ears.

"Always so impatient," he murmured. Arthur had cantered ahead and only now realised that his servant had been left behind. Merlin knew he would speed up eventually and that he would give in to Arthur's demands. It felt like a long time since Arthur had last dragged him on a hunting trip but Merlin had not forgotten the reason why.

Arthur had been trying to cheer him up, to distract him from Freya without ever knowing what the problem was. Merlin hadn't been surprised when a messenger had arrived at Gaius' chambers the evening after Clarissa's execution to tell Merlin he was expected at the stables at dawn. Merlin hadn't complained – much to Gaius' surprise. He thought he understood Arthur better now. Arthur would never say that he cared, but he would show it through gestures. Gestures, Merlin thought with a smile, that could be denied, such as going as a hunt. Arthur would claim it was all about him rather than giving his servant a chance to escape the castle for a while.

"Will you stop daydreaming and come on?"

Merlin jumped as Arthur burst through the bushes in front of him, a scowl on his face. But his cheeks were flushed with the joy of riding and his eyes sparkled with being away from the castle. Merlin knew this wasn't just about him. Arthur wanted the escape as well.

He touched his heels to his mount and took off. "Come on then!" He called back over his shoulder, laughing when he heard Arthur swearing as he tried to turn his horse in order to catch up.

As the morning drew on, the two rode side by side, eventually drawing back to a trot. They didn't speak, but Merlin felt they didn't need too. They both knew why they were out here and there was no need to spoil the moment by voicing that out loud.

As much as he hated hunting, Merlin had to admit that riding through the forest at a fair pace was doing him some good. His mind was clearing and for the first time since meeting Clarissa, he truly felt that his emotions were his own. He also felt calm, no longer eaten away by guilt over things he couldn't control or shame over emotions he couldn't help feeling.

"This way."

Arthur turned them off the path and Merlin had to concentrate as they forced their way over harder terrain. He was just about to ask where they were going when the trees cleared and Merlin found himself in a small clearing. It was bathed in golden light as the sun shone down and a stream trickled through it. It was beautiful.

"I'm starving," Arthur complained as he dismounted and led his horse to the stream. They both tethered the beasts where they could reach both water and grass and Arthur stood surveying the area with his hands on his hips as Merlin struggled to unload the picnic.

Merlin eventually got everything laid out, grumbling all the while about princes' not doing their part. He knew Arthur heard him; he saw the man's shoulders stiffen when Arthur realised Merlin was insulting him. But he let it go and instead muttered a gruff thank you when he sat down.

The one thing that Merlin loved about hunting trips was that the kitchens packed up enough for however many were in the party, regardless of whether they were the prince or the servant. Merlin got to eat as royalty. He thought he deserved it after being pulled out here, but eventually, he lay back, full and sleepy. He felt relaxed.

That didn't last long. Sitting up with a scowl, he rubbed his head and glared at Arthur. The prince was holding a branch, similar to the one he had just thrown at his servant's head.

"What are you doing?" Merlin complained, climbing to his feet and watching Arthur warily. He didn't trust what the prince was about to do when he had that glint in his eye.

"Pick it up." Arthur nodded towards the stick on the ground.

"Why?" Still, Merlin did as he was told. No sooner had he gripped the branch when Arthur charged towards him. All it took was one smack of wood on wood and the branch left Merlin's hand again. He stared first at the red mark on his palm, then back at Arthur.

"Pick it up."

"What is this about?"

"Pick it up." Arthur nodded again at the stick, his expression impassive and his posture tense.

Merlin knew Arthur too well. He knew the man would not back down or give in, nor would he give Merlin a straight answer until he felt he had made his point. Unfortunately, Merlin was already beginning to suspect what the point was – and that it was going to hurt. With a groan, he picked up the stick and tried to ready himself, knowing it would do no good.

He was right.

After Arthur had disarmed him for the fifth time, Merlin folded his arms across his chest and glared at his master.

"I'm not picking that up until you tell me what this is about."

"You were defeated by a girl, Merlin." For once, there was no mocking note in Arthur's voice. He sounded serious. "I can't have a servant who can't defend themselves against anyone or anything."

"You seriously think this will work?"

"No," Arthur said, sounding resigned. They both knew he had been trying to train Merlin for years to no avail. "But it's better than people saying I can't protect my own servant."

"So all of this," Merlin said, bending down to pick up the stick. "It's just to protect your reputation?"

"Yep." Arthur sounded far too cheerful for someone who thought protecting their servant meant preventing them from being able to feel their hand.

But Merlin grinned and shook his head. He knew that wasn't true, but it was the excuse Arthur was giving everyone, even himself. If he was honest, it was nice to see Arthur looking this relaxed and happy considering Clarissa's attack had happened in the rooms next to his own chambers.

Seconds later and the stick was back on the floor.

"This is pointless." Merlin bit his lip, an idea forming. "If I can disarm you, even once, can we stop?"

"You really think you can?"

"I did knock you out."

Arthur lifted his chin challengingly and Merlin knew he had won. His master nodded once and that was the only warning that Merlin received that Arthur had both agreed to the deal and was charging once again.

But this time, Merlin remained where he was. Magic filled him up and time slowed him down. He was able to take in Arthur's posture, his footwork and his grip. To his delight, Arthur had grown complacent and his balance was off.

Time resumed and Merlin stepped sharply out of the way. Arthur stumbled, lacking the expected resistance and Merlin smacked his branch against Arthur's. He lashed out so hard that both branches broke in two.

Arthur regained his balance and stared at him in astonishment. "What did you do?"

"Disarmed you," Merlin said cheerfully. His heart was thudding though. He hadn't meant to hit that hard and hoped he hadn't hurt Arthur. What was the point of protecting his destiny if he was only going to hurt him himself?

Arthur grunted and tossed the sticks away. To Merlin's delight, he sat back down again, honouring their agreement. Merlin did the same, examining his bruised hand with a hiss of pain.

"Don't get enchanted again," Arthur said. His tone was commanding and Merlin stared at him in surprise. Arthur hadn't mentioned the magic up until now and Merlin didn't know how to react. He settled for joking, hoping to steer the conversation back onto more familiar ground.

"Yes Sire!"

"I'm serious, Merlin."

"So am I." Merlin lowered his hand and stared at Arthur. "I'd prefer it if you stopped getting enchanted as well."

"It's alright for me, I'm the prince," Arthur said, linking his hands behind his head and lying back. "It makes sense for people to want to enchant me. You, though, that's just embarrassing. Especially by a girl."

"You've been enchanted by a girl several times."

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur shut his eyes, clearly enjoying the afternoon sun. Merlin chuckled and followed suit, letting his magic trickle into the forest around them to ensure that no one else was about.

Arthur was wrong, Merlin could defend himself, probably more effectively than Arthur could. But Clarissa had got to him because he had left his heart unguarded and Merlin swore to never make that mistake again. From now on, he would focus on his destiny and making Arthur the best prince and future king that he could.

If he did that, maybe he would find happiness.