Don't throw yourself like that/in front of me.

It has been several years since Uther's death, several years since the ban on magic was lifted within the kingdom. Merlin has been by Arthur's side for all those years, officially as the Court Sorcerer, and yet still, he is Arthur's manservant. Always by his side, loyal to his death.

A death that seems all the more imminent at this very moment.

They are in the heat of battle. Arthur and his knights are fighting sword to sword, man to man, with King Morholt's men. Merlin is never far from Arthur's side, trying to protect him as always, without having to be subtle about it anymore. It is a lot easier than it used to be.

However, Merlin also has problems of his own. Morholt has his own sorcerer, a dark powerful wizard who is hell bent on destroying Merlin, and then presumably Arthur and all his men. Merlin has been holding his own so far, he is more powerful, but he keeps being distracted by Arthur. Arthur nearby, Arthur fighting, Arthur narrowly missing that blade, parrying, blocking, stabbing, killing.

Sir Leon doesn't move fast enough, and the sharp point of a sword pierces through his breast plate, straight into his heart. Arthur lunges for him, and that's when everything goes to hell.

The enemy sorcerer and Arthur's opponent seem to act in tandem, minds locked together for the same deadly purpose. The sorcerer fires a swirling maelstrom of dark energy at Merlin at the same moment that the swordsman goes for Arthur's throat.

Merlin barely has time to react. He cannot block both the magic hurtling towards him and the sword heading for Arthur with his own magic at the same time, so he does the only thing he can think of. He throws his own magic directly at the dark sorcerer, and throws himself in front of Arthur. Directly into the sword's path.

The sword drives straight through Merlin's stomach, and his shocked gasp is enough to draw Arthur's attention away from a dying Leon. In the blink of an eye Arthur has killed the swordsman and Merlin lies in the bloody grass, blood bubbling out of his abdomen.

"Merlin!" Arthur screams, his throat raw.

"My Lord..."

"Don't you dare die on me you idiot. You're a sorcerer. Heal yourself!"

Merlin blinks at Arthur, watching the movement of his lips, trying to understand his words.

"Merlin!"

Arthur shakes him, dragging him back from unconsciousness. He gropes for Merlin's hands, placing them over the bloody mess that is his manservant's stomach. He's seen Merlin do this a hundred times before, possibly even a thousand. Seen him heal worse than this, he is sure. Hands placed over the wound, a few whispered words, a golden flash in his eyes. He needs him to do it now. Why won't he do it now?

"Merlin, listen to me," he speaks urgently, no longer shouting, grasping tightly at Merlin's hands, now covered in his blood. "You need to heal yourself, Merlin. Do you hear me?"

Merlin just stares at him wordlessly, blue eyes into blue eyes. Desperately Arthur tries to think. What words does Merlin use, what does he say? But Arthur does not know, has never really needed to listen. He is no sorcerer after all.

The battle wages on around him, but Merlin's last outburst had killed the other sorcerer and Arthur's knights have formed a barrier around their King, protecting him. Amidst the shouts and the heavy clang of metal on metal, Arthur nearly misses Merlin's whispered word.

"iachaiu..."

Recognition stirs within Arthur, this is the magic he has heard whispered so many times before, and he completes the phrase in the same whispered tone, "iachaiu am fi tirion arglwyddesau."

He says the words over and over, willing Merlin to join in with him, because the words alone are not enough, Arthur is not magical, he needs Merlin to complete the spell, Merlin to say the words.

Merlin is so quiet that Arthur thinks he has almost imagined it. However he can see the slow movement of Merlin's lips, and then, gloriously, his eyes glow golden. Arthur feels a warmth that is not from Merlin's blood flow around his hands, and he glances down, breaking the eye contact. His hands are wreathed in the same golden light that is mirrored in Merlin's eyes.

He keeps chanting the spell, Merlin repeating the words softly along with him, as the golden glow grows stronger and stronger. And the suddenly, it is gone. Merlin's eyes close, exhausted, and Arthur keeps his hands entangled with Merlin's, unable to move them and look underneath. After watching Merlin take twenty or so shallow breaths Arthur dares to look, and raises his hands from Merlin's stomach. They are still covered in blood, and so is the area underneath. However his skin, Merlin's perfect pale skin is unharmed, unblemished, not even the slightest scar to tell of what has just happened.

Arthur sags in relief, and then carries Merlin in his arms from the battlefield, away from harm.

a/n: I apologise for my butchering of the Welsh language. A simple online dictionary gave me the words, there is no grammar. The spell says "Heal for me gracious lady" because I like to think of magic as feminine :)

Please review, it would mean the world to me, this is my first ever fanfic!