Yes, I am aware that it has been a frightfully long time since I've updated this. My only excuse is that I've had a crazy life, which you don't want to know the details of, I've been working on my other story which I've been longing to write for over a years now, and this chapter didn't exactly come easy. But you guys don't care about that. You want to read, preferably a new chapter the second you're finished with the last one. Unfortunately, I'm not Santa and I can't give you that gift because I simply can't write that quickly. However, I really do care about and enjoy this story and there are many things in it I am dying to write, so please believe me when I say that I am trying. So, I am now asking you to stop reading my ramblings and start reading this chapter...if you're still here.

Arthur watched as a ring of fire rose up around the mercenaries. "Wait!" he called out as he saw the figure begin to fade just as he had every other time. Arthur got to his feet and took a cautious step towards the mysterious stranger. "Why do you keep doing this? Surely you must want a reward of some kind?" Arthur just didn't understand.

The man half turned to him, just enough for Arthur to see the endless blackness that hid his face beneath his hood, and said to him, "I want no reward. I have told you why I do this. If you refuse to accept my answer then that's your problem, not mine." He began to turn away, but Arthur wouldn't let him.

"Please," Arthur implored, "even after all this time I know nothing about you. Won't you at least tell me your name?"

"What? So you can hunt me down and kill me and all those I love?" Though Arthur couldn't be sure, the man's reply seemed derisive and almost hurt. "How foolish do you think I am, Pendragon?"

Even though Arthur shouldn't have expected any less, the stranger's words stung. For some reason he had thought this sorcerer's opinion of him was greater than that. "You have saved my life over and over again," Arthur stated, "And all without even asking to be thanked. I would be the worst kind of monster if I turned around and betrayed you in spite of all of that. Do you honestly think so little of me that you believe I'd do that?"

The stranger seemed to hesitate for a moment, and though Arthur really had no way of actually knowing, it seemed to him that he was a little guilty. Finally the man fully turned to him so that he could look right at Arthur and said, "I have many names. If you must call me something then…you should call me—"

Three months earlier

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled, sounding grumpy.

The servant in question sighed. He was surprised it had taken Arthur this long to get fed up with waiting. He didn't turn around as he heard Arthur barge through Gaius' door, but merely kept on pouring the contents of the large bowl he had spent the last half an hour making into small, glass bottles.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried again upon seeing his servant, "We've been waiting in the courtyard for you for over an hour! What excuse do you have for keeping us waiting this time?"

Merlin sighed and turned around to face his annoyed master. Arthur was, of course, overreacting. He was probably only twenty minutes late and it was by no means his fault. "I would have been on time, Arthur," Merlin replied, trying his best to calm down his friend, "but Gaius gave me a last minute chore."

"And what, Merlin, was so important that it needed to be done right this moment and not a few hours from now?" Arthur asked incredulously. His tone contained much of his usual anger, but Merlin didn't let it bother him too much because he knew that on any given day half of it was fake. Why Arthur felt like he had to pretend to be angrier than he really was, Merlin had no idea. And this really wasn't the right time to attempt to figure it out.

"Gaius needed a potion," Merlin evenly explained, "because of the new illness circling around. He's had his hands full and he didn't have time to make it himself. It couldn't wait until we got back because it seems to be the only thing that fights the sickness." As Merlin spoke he saw the indignation and anger fade some from Arthur's face to be replaced with a hint of guilty sheepishness as he realized that for once he had a good excuse for being late. "I thought maybe I could make it quickly, but I've never made a batch so large before and it took longer than I thought. It was never my intention to hold up the patrol," Merlin finished.

Arthur seemed to stutter for a minute. The king could also get angry at Merlin for anything he did of his own accord, but doing something for Gaius…well; Arthur had the utmost respect the physician and knew that the man never did anything unless it was necessary. Finally, Arthur was able to form a coherent thought and said, "Well, next time, Merlin, you should send a servant to inform us that you will be late. Or better yet, ask Gaius beforehand if he requires anything. Perhaps if you thought ahead we could prevent anything like this from happening again." With that, Arthur spun around and headed for the door, calling as he did so, "Be in the courtyard the second that potion is done or I'll throw you in the stocks for a week."And then he was gone.

Merlin sighed to himself. Lately Arthur had been dealing with his usual tardiness more calmly, but when it came to situations like this when it was in front of his men he was as frustrated as ever. Even after all this time Arthur felt the pressing need to prove himself to his men, as if he hadn't done so a thousand times already. But the king felt responsible for Merlin and if he was holding them up then it was Arthur's fault.

Every now and then Merlin was struck by how ironic it was that Arthur cared so much what people thought of him. Arthur was the king of possibly the most powerful kingdom in the world and there were times when his ego seemed bigger than his head, but despite that he always seemed desperate to make practically everyone like him. Except Merlin. Maybe because Merlin had befriended him at a time when he was a prat of ridiculous proportions Arthur felt no need to prove anything to him.

Merlin sighed again and finished pouring the last of the undoubtedly nasty-tasting substance into the last bottle and then snatched his bag from where he'd left it and ran out the door.

Merlin was bored. Bored because nothing at all interesting had happened in the last hour. Unfortunately, boredom while patrolling was a very common thing for Merlin. The only occasions Merlin wasn't nearly bored to death by the dragging silence and never-ending trees that all looked the same was when they actually found some bandits or mercenaries and a resulting fight ensued. Of course, Merlin never actually hoped to run across some bandits because even though Arthur and the knights were skilled fighters and he would do his best to protect them with his magic, there was still a chance of them getting hurt or killed. And no matter how bored he was he would never wish for Arthur or anyone to be in danger.

But despite all of that he was still, unequivocally, bored. He had absolutely no idea how all the knights could stand doing this over and over again. Merlin was certain that the mind-numbing boredom would have surely killed him by now if it weren't for his drive to always be at Arthur's side so he could protect him.

And it was that same drive that was his reason for coming along on this patrol in the first place. The chance, however remote, that Arthur might get hurt was more than enough to make Merlin put up with the boredom.

In the distance Merlin heard a twig snapped and out of the corner of his eye he saw the heads of all ten knights whip towards the sound. It was kind of eerie how their instincts and reflexes kicked at the exact same time making it look as if some entity had moved their heads.

For the tiniest second Merlin thought it was nothing, after all, a twig snapping in a forest full of animals and enough wind to make anything light move wasn't particularly unusual, but when none of the knights relaxed and Arthur along with a few others dismounted the warlock got the distinct impression that this was more than some scampering squirrel. One by one, the swords of the ten men were unsheathed and even though they had tried to be quiet, the sound of steel against steel echoed through the forest.

Merlin's magic was already roaring to life and waiting for his command as he slowly slid down his horse. He could feel it humming beneath his skin and he realized that it was a lot stronger and more excited than it would usually be under such circumstances. Normally Merlin's magic only reacted this way to a threat when it was magical in nature. At that unnerving thought, Merlin pulled even more magic to the surface and his muscles tensed even harder as he tried to cast out his mind searching for any sign of someone with magic.

Suddenly, without even the merest sound or warning, a large lion crashed through the tress roaring and lunging toward them. But this was no ordinary lion. It was at least twice the size of any normal lion and it had oozing black sores that covered its back so thickly that it actually stood out like a large lump, giving Merlin a brief thought that this was a hunchback lion. The creature's mouth was visibly bleeding—Merlin could tell that it wasn't just the blood of another person or animal because he could see a few of those black sores layering its tongue and gums and the roof of its mouth and blood was just pouring from them—and huge muscles and tendons that didn't look like they were supposed to be there and even seemed painful ripped across its body.

In surprise and fear each and everyone one of them stumbled backwards. The huge monster swiped at the nearest knight, which happened to be Elyan, and the man cried out in pain as the most terrible sound Merlin had ever heard reached his ears. It was the sound of claws that were far too powerful ripping through metal armor, cloth, and flesh.

Hearing Elyan scream and seeing him crumple to the ground must have broken everyone out of their shocked reverie because before Merlin knew what had happened the knights had rushed forward and were attacking the creature with all their might. The knights circled around the lion, attacking it from every side. Gwaine seemed the most ferocious; he was hacking away at it with frightening strength and intensity. And when the enraged lion turned its head to roar angrily at the drunken knight, Gwaine simply bellowed back.

For a moment, Merlin thought the knights had the beast taken care of. Their tactic of spreading out and assaulting it from every angle seemed to be working as it was keeping the monster too hurt and distracted by the multiple swords cutting into its hide to decide which human to attack first. Its big head kept swinging around and every time it seemed to have found its target it would snarl in pain as another knight dealt it a terrible blow. Merlin was sure that this lion, regardless of size or strength, was no match for the might of the knights of Camelot until the creature seemed to have finally had enough and it leapt forward, right into Percival—knocking him to the ground and smacking his head against the earth so roughly that Merlin was positive he'd have a headache for weeks—and thundered a few feet away from the group that had surrounded it.

Merlin could see blood covering it everywhere and long gashes that had cut through its thick hair were visible, and yet the warlock could tell that this beast should have far greater wounds than it had already received. The only conclusion Merlin could make as to why this monster was still alive when any normal lion would have long since died was that the magic that must have enlarged it must also have given it a hide far stronger than that of any ordinary creature. But Merlin really didn't have time to think about that.

The lion, now momentarily free of its attackers stopped running and spun around to face them, its large and hideous teeth bared. Then, without warning, it roared so loudly that Merlin had to cover his ears and he felt blood coming from them and it charged forward directly at Arthur.

Merlin wasn't sure what happened next. Even years later he still wouldn't be able to say with confidence what had occurred.

He felt his magic rise up within him so quickly and powerfully that it stole his breath away and caused him actual, physical pain. He saw several of the knights, including a dazed Percival, throw their swords straight at the creature—which wouldn't normally be a smart thing to do because throw swords rarely met their target, but considering that the lion would crash into them and likely end their lives in the process within mere seconds, it was worth a shot. He saw himself running towards Arthur. Merlin saw Percival's sword miss and the others just nick the lion. Merlin felt his magic tear out of him so viciously that it felt as if it had been ripped from him. And he heard a terrible scream come from somewhere.

Merlin woke up in that same clearing and the first thing his eyes saw was the grotesque body of the dead lion. Startled and rather afraid of the sight before him, Merlin pushed himself backwards trying to get away from the beast, but as soon as he moved red, fiery pain shot across his back.

Merlin gave a strangled cry that would have been longer and manlier if it hadn't been for the lack of air in his lungs. The panic of waking up to the sight of the lion had stolen his breath. But before Merlin had a chance to move anymore or hyperventilate, several gentle and reassuring hand grabbed him and held him still. Arthur knelt down and suddenly appeared in his field of vision and he was wearing a slightly concerned, but ultimately comforting expression as if he was trying to calm him down. Which he was.

"Merlin, Merlin," he said as he attempted to get his servant to focus on him and not the huge body behind him, "it's okay. Everything is fine. The beast is dead, but you should try not to move."

As Merlin's heart began to settle and the delirious state in which he had woken up faded away he began to relax and recall what had happened. He could remember everything with the lion and the fight, but why did his back hurt?

"Wha-what's wrong with me?" Merlin asked, his voice a little raspy. "Did I get hurt?"

And odd look came over Arthur's face. "You don't remember?" he asked as if he couldn't quite believe it and thought his servant was playing some sort of trick on him.

Merlin shook his head and regretted it immediately at the already awful pain in his back grew with that simple movement. "No."

"Merlin you…you saved me," Arthur said as if trying to get him to remember.

Shock rippled through him. It wasn't at all that unusual that he had saved Arthur. In fact, he probably saved the prat once every week. But for Arthur to have actually known that he had been saved by his servant and acknowledge it in front of his knights—Merlin could still feel their hands steadying him and could see what he thought was Gwaine out of the corner of his eye—and then for him not to even remember doing it? Well, that didn't happen very often.

"I did?" Merlin asked, because he honestly didn't have any memory of this occurrence and he wouldn't put it past Arthur to have made it all up as some sort of joke.

But instead of bursting out laughing and saying that he had fooled him, Arthur just nodded his head and smiled a little at his servant's disbelief.

Gwaine, for it was Gwaine on the outskirts of his vision, bent down and made eye contact with Merlin. "Yeah, mate. I don't know why you did it, but you ran straight in front of Princess here," he said, pointing to Arthur who was scowling at the return of the old nickname, "and instead of getting Arthur the monster lunged at you." Gwaine grimaced, but continued. "We heard you scream. You have five, rather deep claw marks down your back."

Merlin could remember some of it now. He remembered running towards Arthur, though he had no recollection of actually reaching him. He remembered hearing an awful scream and now from what Gwaine had said it must've been his. Of course, what Gwaine didn't know and really none of them knew was that the pain in his scream had only partially been from the claws. Having his magic rip from him like that had been excruciating.

Merlin swallowed thickly at the memory of the pain. A little voice in the back of his head told him to just shrug it off. You've had worse.

Merlin turned his attention back to Gwaine. "What happened to it, then? How did the lion die?" he asked.

"Actually," Gwaine said, nodding towards the dead creature, "it died mere moments after hurting you. It seems that Percival's sword found a tender spot and the thing was dead before it had a chance to hurt anyone else."

"The strange thing is," Percival said somewhere behind him—Merlin felt rude for not turning to look at him, but he knew that if he did the horrible pain in his back would become nearly unbearable—"that I'm almost positive that I saw my sword miss when I threw it." Suddenly Merlin was very glad that Percival couldn't see his face. He knew what must've happened and as he extended his mind toward the dead monster his suspicions were confirmed. He could still feel traces of his magic lingering on the sword that was buried deep in the lion's flesh. Merlin could remember his magic fleeing him, though he wasn't exactly sure what he had told it to do. All he knew was that it desired nothing more than to protect Arthur, which it evidently had.

"But my head did get hit pretty hard," Percival continued, "I must have been wrong." Despite his words, Merlin got the impression that he didn't believe that he had killed the lion one bit. A familiar feeling of dread pooled in his gut. But Merlin ignored it as he always did.

By now Merlin was tired of staying still. Pain or no pain, he wasn't used to being this inactive when he didn't have either a life-threatening condition or sleeping. And it was making him really uncomfortable to be the center of attention, especially so soon after using magic that at least one person had nearly noticed. Gritting his teeth in preparation for the pain that he knew was to come, Merlin attempted to push himself off the ground and get his legs beneath him.

Instantly, pain flared like the raging fire of an angry dragon and protests and gently restraining hands surrounded him.

"What do you think you are doing?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"I thought it was obvious," Merlin said, trying not to snap but having difficulty due to the agony streaked across his back in five, burning lines.

"So you were trying to reopen the wounds on your back," Arthur said with anger and frustration in his tone.

"No," Merlin replied, this time in better control of the pain, "I was trying to get up. I don't know about you, but I'd rather leave this place so we don't have to keep looking at that," he pointed to the large, dead body not ten feet away. "Also, the longer we stay the greater the chance he have of running into another one of those things, and frankly, Arthur, I'm not going to be rushing to take anymore claws meant for you anytime soon."

"You shouldn't have had to take the first ones," Gwaine grumbled, but before anyone could reply his tone brightened a bit and said, "You're probably right. Staying here any longer isn't going to do us any good. But Merlin, at least let us help you up. Those wounds are deep and we think they might be getting infected. We did our best cleaning them, but who knows where those claws have been."

Merlin nodded in agreement because he really didn't think the knights would give him a choice. They'd help him up whether he wanted them to or not.

Within seconds he felt helping hands grab his arms and very gently support his lower back where the cuts didn't reach and then pull him up. But try as he might, Merlin couldn't avoid the gasp of pain that pushed past his lips. And it wasn't just pain, the moment he was upright once more dizziness washed over him and he felt faint. Images of all the times he had been hurt and had been able to perfectly hide it flashed in his mind and suddenly Merlin realized that something was wrong. Those simple cuts, painful though they were, shouldn't have caused the panic and fear he had experienced upon waking, and they certainly shouldn't be able to get past his guards. Since before he'd even reached double digits Merlin had been perfecting the art of hiding pain completely so not even his own mother would know when he was suffering. So why couldn't he endure this in silence?

With some effort Merlin pushed past the fog that he hadn't realized had been clouded his brain and sent his magic to inspect his wounds. And though it was faint, Merlin found definite traces of a magical poison. But before Merlin even had a chance to panic his magic also reported to him that the poison was weak and could probably kill only the smallest of animals. At best it could make him a little sick for a short time and hinder his abilities to cover up pain.

Merlin relaxed for a brief moment, but then a thought struck his brain. Eylan had been injured by those claws, too. Where was he? Was he all right? Was he poisoned, too, and if so could it actually hurt him because he didn't have magic to protect him?

"Wait," Merlin said, concern and worry bubbling up inside him. "What about Elyan? I saw him get hurt." To Merlin's annoyance, both Arthur and Gwaine chuckled slightly and gave each other and the men behind him a knowing look. "What is it?" Merlin asked indignantly. He still had shaking control of his body, his pain, his emotions, his thoughts and basically everything else so he really wasn't in the mood to hear his friends chuckle knowingly. It was annoying at the best of times.

"Merlin," Arthur said, humor evident in his tone and on his face, "look behind you."

Merlin didn't have a chance to feel more than a second of confusion before Arthur and Gwaine took hold of his shoulders and carefully helped him turn around. Now standing in front of him was Percival and Leon—the two people he had expected to see—and Elyan, smiling and looking plenty healthy.

Embarrassment washed through Merlin. He probably should have guessed that Elyan was behind him just like the others, the only reason he hadn't was the nagging memory in the back of his mind—the memory of seeing Elyan get injured and then fall to the ground and then fail to get up.

"But," Merlin said, "but I saw you get hurt. Your wound has to be at least as bad as mine."

Elyan frowned. "No, actually. I remember feeling the claws dig into me and I'd thought it was pretty deep, but when I woke up—I must have passed out like you did—the marks were fairly superficial."Elyan then pulled aside the cloth of his shirt to reveal a white bandage that Merlin was sure his own back also possessed. But as Merlin peered closely at the bandages he could tell from all his years studying under Gaius that they were there more to keep dirt out than to keep blood in. And this conclusion was supported by the fact that not a single spot of blood stained the white of the cloth.

Curious about something, Merlin once again let his magic roam outwards and he was surprised not to find so much as a drop of the poison in Elyan's body. And he was even more shocked to feel the all too recognizable remnants of his own magic.

"It's so odd, though," Elyan continued, puzzlement in his voice, "I could have sworn that those blasted claws had gone in deep. I've had bad wounds before and this felt like one of them." He looked down at the bandages and then looked back up with a slightly sheepish smile on his face and shrugged. "I guess I was wrong."

"Yes," Leon said, "we were all pretty lucky." He gestured towards the carcass. "This thing, however it came to be, could have easily killed us. I think we were victorious simply through numbers. If even a few of us had stayed home today it is likely that the rest would have perished." Then Leon smiled. "Still, we are very fortunate. Even Percival managed to escape getting a concussion and the rest of us are only bruised." Leon put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You're the only one who got seriously hurt."

Merlin grimaced. "Lucky me." While a few of the other knights laughed Leon didn't and Merlin couldn't help but notice the sincere and grateful look in the soldier's eyes. Out of all the knights, Leon was the most concerned with Arthur's well-being and considered it his personal job to look after him. Merlin and Leon were two very different people, but in that respect they were alike and they understood each other.

Leon was probably the only person unaware of his magic that truly knew of Merlin's desire and drive to protect Arthur at any cost. Sure, the other knights and Gwen and even some servants knew that he had occasionally saved Arthur's life and that he was more than willing to do whatever it took to do so again, but only Leon knew how seriously Merlin took his job. And though, in the beginning, Leon had informed him more than once that he was only a servant and it wasn't his duty to protect anyone, the knight now understood and was okay with it all. Leon had come to realize that nothing would stop Merlin from making it his responsibility to protect Arthur. About time someone got that through their head.

"Anyway," said Gwaine, breaking Merlin out of his train of thought, "didn't I hear somebody say something about going home for some ale?"

Arthur scowled, but Merlin could see it was fake. "No, Gwaine, we're not going home for ale, because the rest of us actually respect ourselves and make a point about not being constantly drunk. However, I do have a wife that I haven't seen in far too long—"

"It's only been five hours," Gwaine cut in.

"Precisely," Arthur continued, "that's five hours too many. Besides, the longer we wait the angrier Gaius is going to be at us for bringing Merlin home like this, so we'd better get it over with." Though Arthur was good at hiding it, Merlin could hear the slightest sliver of concern in his voice. "Come on, Merlin," Arthur said as he gently began to steer him towards the horses. "The ride home is probably going to hurt, but it's best we just get it over with."

Merlin couldn't help but balk a little bit at that thought. Over an hour of riding that would constantly jostle and aggravate the wounds on his back. This wasn't going to be very fun. He'd give just about anything right now to be bored to tears, but free of physical pain.

Merlin had tears of pain in his eyes by the time the finally and mercifully, reached the castle. The ride had been absolutely miserable. At the best of times, the constant aggravation of his wounds would have been hard to endure, but with this poison still circling in his system and making it hard to focus on anything, let alone holding pain in, it had been near impossible. He knew for certain that the cuts were bleeding again and had been for most of the trip, and, doubtless, the blood loss was only making his dizziness worse.

Before he knew what had happened, the knights had gently but swiftly, ushered him to Gaius' chambers. Upon entering the room, Merlin saw immediately that Gaius wasn't there and let out a small sigh of relief. Sure, he was anxious to get his wounds properly taken care of, but Gaius had told him just this morning to be careful and not to do anything reckless. Merlin wasn't exactly looking forward to the old, but surprisingly still scary, physician's anger.

Of course, Merlin understood why Gaius got angry. Merlin couldn't imagine anything worse than staying at home every day and praying anxiously that someone he cared about would be all right. Gaius never had the option of helping out and riding into battle to protect the ones he loved. No, all Gaius could do was attempt to fix up the ones he cared for when they inevitably got hurt. Merlin couldn't stand the idea of living like that.

Just then, Gaius, followed by Gwaine who must have fetched him, burst into the room and Merlin saw his eyes alight on him immediately, his face a mixture of concern, anger, and resigned exhaustion. Exactly what Merlin had expected to see. Leon, the only other person in the room, seemed to sense the old man's volatile emotions and slipped out the second Gaius' gaze left him. Gwaine was now the only thing standing between Merlin and a tirade from his guardian.

Gaius grabbed a few supplies and then made his way over to his ward. The physician put his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Merlin," he said, more of an exclamation of disappointment than anything else. The warlock in question lifted his gaze to his guardian's and guilt washed over him as he glimpsed the pain and sadness in his almost-father's eyes. Merlin knew that every injury he took, Gaius sustained as well.

But before Merlin could even get the beginning words of an apology out, Gaius went to work on his back. After forcing Merlin's shirt off him—a fairly quick, but no less agonizing process—Gaius began to inspect his wounds. Merlin clenched his teeth and tried to look anywhere but at Gwaine, who was watching him. Even the smallest touch, regardless of its proximity to the five cuts, hurt badly.

Suddenly Gaius stopped and the pain faded a little. "Gwaine," the old man said and Merlin could hear a hint of anger in his tone, "you said what caused these lacerations, but what about the bruises?"

Bruises? Merlin wasn't aware he had any bruises. Then again, he got bruises so often from fighting evil and even doing his day-to-day chores that he hardly even noticed them now. Merlin turned his head to see Gaius as best he could, but couldn't prevent himself from gasping as the movement sent fire trailing down his back.

"Stay still," Gaius chided.

"What bruises?" Merlin asked and cringed at the all-too evident pain in his voice. He really wanted the poison to dissipate soon, because the last thing he wanted was to make his friends worry about him more than they already were.

Gaius hardly spared a second for answering Merlin question. "They're covering your back, Merlin. It looks more like a blue and purple blanket than flesh."Ah, hence the uncharacteristic rage. Though Merlin had contracted far worse wounds, few things that could befall someone looked worse than heavy bruising. Bruising in its nature, Merlin personally thought, was flashier than most injuries and would, therefore, make Gaius angrier than usual. "Well?" Gaius said, speaking once again to Gwaine.

Merlin could see a hint of fear in Gwaine's expression, but mostly there was just concern and guilt. "That creature," he began, "didn't just scratch Merlin, he also crashed into him pretty hard. That…thing was a lot larger, tougher, and stronger than it should've been. I wouldn't be surprised if it was capable of causing that kind of bruising." Gwaine ducked his head for a moment in what Merlin could almost swear was shame. "I'm sorry," he lifted his head up and tears could dimly be seen in his eyes. "We should be taking better care of Merlin."

Merlin had seen Gwaine serious before, but not like this. Remorse and terror of what could have been blocked out all allusion of humor or joy. Warmth flooded through Merlin as he realized that Gwaine truly had been worried that he wouldn't make it. It had been a long time since he had felt that kind of affection from his friends.

Gwaine ducked his head once again, saying, "I have some duties I need to attend to. Heal quickly, Merlin." And with that, the usually cheerful knight left.

"Don't be mad at Gwaine, Gaius," Merlin said, trying to turn his head to look at the old man, but unable to because of the firm hand on the back of his neck.

"Stop moving," Gaius said, frustrated, "you'll only cause yourself more pain."

Merlin didn't care and instead of just turning his head, his twisted his body so that he mostly faced his guardian. Pain screeched down his back, but he didn't and he distantly realized that the poison must be nearly out of his system if he was able to ignore it now. "Gaius," he said, catching the physician's gaze, "I'm the one who ran in front of that beast like an idiot. I'm hurt because I chose to save Arthur's life. It's what I have always done and it's what I will continue to do. It's no one's fault but my own."

Gaius seemed to deflate and all anger left him only to be replaced with exhaustion. "They're knights, Merlin," he said slowly, "if anyone should be able to protect you or Arthur it should be them. Instead, the one person who should never have to risk his life is forced to over and over again. You, Merlin. You have a life, too, and he can't keep sacrificing it." Gaius sighed. "When was the last time you were happy, Merlin?" he asked. "When was the last time that you thought about yourself before rushing into danger for Arthur's sake?"

Merlin looked away. They both knew the answer—not since coming to Camelot.

"I'm not saying," Gaius continued, "that you should stop protecting Arthur. I am saying that you need to be more careful, and don't just nod your head and say you will when you don't mean it. There has to be a way, Merlin, where you or the knights can keep Arthur safe without constantly putting your own life in danger. Because I will not lose you, Merlin. So if that means being harder on Gwaine so that maybe he'll think and for once actually look out for you, then so be it."

"Gaius, I—" Merlin started, but the old man wouldn't let him finish.

"A little bit deeper, Merlin, and those claws would have killed you. Who would have protected Arthur then? Think on that."

Gaius is right, Merlin thought to himself as he tried to fall asleep that night. Things can't continue the way they have been.

Merlin knew that every time he got wounded it was hurting Gaius. He knew that every time he put himself in harm's way for another he was hurting his friends and everyone he cared for.

And Merlin had another thing to worry about. Both Percival and Elyan had noticed his use of magic, even if they hadn't been aware of what it was. If it hadn't been for Percival hitting his head—something Merlin was also sure he had a part in healing—and Elyan getting injured, no doubt both of them would have been very suspicious. And Merlin was also lucky that no one seemed to question how he had managed to run in front of Arthur from across the clearing so quickly—a feat that had only been possible by slowing down time.

And what if those claws had dug just a little deeper? Arthur would be doomed without Merlin by his side to protect him.

In short, Merlin had been very fortunate for a lot of things could've gone wrong today.

Merlin closed his eyes and sighed, ignoring the burning and throbbing on his back. Gaius was right. Something had to change. Arthur and the knights could never learn of his magic, at least, not until Merlin actually intended to tell them. Merlin had to stop getting hurt for Gaius', Gwaine's, and Arthur's sakes. And that creature had been far too close to killing Arthur for Merlin's comfort. He needed a way that he could better guard Arthur without revealing his secret or putting himself in the line of fire.

Then, suddenly, a wonderful, terrible, brilliant idea popped into Merlin's head. It would be risky, it would be insane, but it just might be the answer he needed. He was already living a double life, why not add a third?

So, I'm sure you smart people have already figured out what Merlin's idea was and where this is heading. If you haven't, just ask yourself what ridiculous sorcerer that we know would protect Arthur without asking for any reward or praise?

So, a few things you guys need to know if you plan to continue reading this and caring about he plot. I am not going to be posting the next chapter in the plotline next. Because I'm treating all these one-or-such-shots as moments in a continuing story and this whole plotline is going to span over months in the story, interspersed between updates about Merlin dressing up as a sorcerer I'm going to have other stories. Basically, this is going to be like an actual TV show. Each chapter or group of chapters is an episode. But in a TV show they won't tell you the whole plot of the season in one episode, no, they will draw it out until the very end. That's what I'm going to do. I might have two updates in a row about this, then have two not about it. Or just go every other one. I'm doing this because this plotline is fairly long and absolutely crucial to something very big I have planned. So it may end up being another twenty chapters before I finish this plotline the way I intend to. I have many ideas planned and I feel like it's going to get pretty epic, so please don't get angry when I draw out the cliffhangers and keep you waiting for more information about Arthur and the mysterious sorcerer protecting him. I have some very awesome (for me, at least) things planned and if I order the chapters and storylines the way I am hoping to it's gonna be pretty freakin' cool. I hope.

So please just bear with me and continue reading because, regardless of what I'm writing about, Arthur discovering something or Merlin realizing a better way to protect his friend, I plan on making it the best it can be. Also, you may have noticed that I really didn't have Arthur observe much of anything about Merlin in this chapter, that's only because I'm setting him up for a whole lot of stuff later on. And yes, I'm hoping to give you at least some of Arthur's thoughts about Merlin getting hurt whilst saving him. We need that bromance.