A/N- Hey, guys! This is just a stupid thing I thought of but I had to write it down. It's probably set. . . Late third season, early fourth season? I really don't know. Wherever it fits in. So. . . Read it, please! No slash. Character death. Two-shot, probably. I think it's maybe a teeny bit longer than what I usually write.

Arthur grunted once, then his sword flashed up instinctively and the man was dead. Good. That was. . . good riddance. Arthur sank to his knees, one hand on his stomach. It came away red. Arthur gritted his teeth and wrapped his fingers around the knife hilt in his stomach. It hurt like hell, but the pain eased a bit once the knife was out.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. This was it, then. His death. Arthur remembered that dying people were generally supposed to look back and realize your own mortality. Arthur reflected on his life and decided that he could have done with a couple fewer near death experiences. Still, at least he was prepared for the real thing.

The battle was ending. Well, if he was being honest with himself, it wasn't quite a battle. Merlin and himself fighting a couple people in the woods was just an ordinary day. And Arthur had killed all but one of them, so it wasn't like Merlin had actually done anything.

Merlin turned and saw Arthur. Even with Arthur's eyesight- the world had gone a bit hazy- he could see Merlin's panicked expression. Arthur felt a twinge of sympathy for his friend- if their positions had been reversed. . . Well, he didn't even want to think about that.

Arthur leaned back against the tree that seemed to be conveniently behind him. No, wait. . . He was looking at the sky, so he must be on the ground. When had he gotten there?

Then Merlin's head blocked out part of the sky. Arthur almost wanted to snap at him, because the sky was a very nice color, and he never got time to just look these days. But he was feeling a bit too tired to snap at anyone. Which was odd, because usually being tired just made Arthur grumpy.

Also. . . Merlin seemed to be crying. Arthur thought vaguely that for someone who spent so much time insulting him, he did seem to be upset at his death.

Merlin seemed to be saying something Arthur didn't quite catch. He repeated it, and this time Arthur got it. Merlin had whispered, "I'm sorry."

Arthur was a bit confused. What was Merlin sorry for? That Arthur was dying? But that wasn't his fault at all. If anything, it was Arthur's own fault for being a bit slow getting out of the knife's way. Merlin shouldn't blame himself.

Merlin laid a slim hand on Arthur's forehead. It felt pleasantly cool. Arthur saw Merlin murmur something, his eyes flash gold- though that was probably a hallucination- and felt a strange, though not unpleasant tingling sensation somewhere around where he had gotten stabbed. Then everything went black.

Arthur yawned. This in itself was surprising, as Arthur had fully expected to be dead. Hmm. That was an interesting thought. Can you yawn when you're dead? Never mind. He would think on that later. After he had figured out what on earth had happened.

He stood up. This was puzzling. Arthur put a hand to the place where he had been injured what felt like only minutes before. There was nothing. No wound, no blood, only the normal healthy skin. Arthur wondered what had happened.

He remembered something else. Merlin had been there. Where was he now? Arthur yelled, "Merlin!"

"No need to shout." said Merlin, from behind him. Arthur spun around. Merlin was standing in the shadow of a tree, almost completely obscured. Arthur could see how he'd missed him the first time.

"What happened?" demanded Arthur. "I was dying. I was nearly dead. How am I alive now?"

"Are you complaining?" asked Merlin.

"No." said Arthur. "I'm just wondering." He saw Merlin shift slightly, then wince. Arthur frowned. "You aren't hurt, are you? I know there was only one left, but you're the most accident-prone person I know."

"Apparently," said Merlin, with a small grin, "You haven't met yourself."

Arthur tried to glare at him, but he was too relieved to not be dead to quite manage it. So it was more of a smile. Oh, well. It didn't occur to him that Merlin hadn't answered the question.

"So." said Arthur. "Are you going to tell me how I survived?"

"I suppose." said Merlin, glancing at the sky. "We're running out of time."

"Running out of time for what?" asked Arthur.

Merlin ignored him. "Arthur, I'm going to tell you something. You aren't going to like it. But before I do, I want you to promise me that you won't punish my mother for it. Or Gaius. Or any of my friends."

Arthur blinked. "Merlin, almost all your friends are my friends too."

"Promise me." said Merlin.

What could possibly be so bad that Merlin was making him promise not to hurt his friends? And why was Merlin acting like there was a time limit? Reluctantly, Arthur promised, if only out of curiosity.

"Merlin, what can possibly-"

Merlin cut him off, but Arthur forgot that, because Merlin's next words took his breath away. "I'm a warlock." said Merlin, almost matter-of-factly.

"What?" gasped Arthur. "How? What?"

"It's not my fault." said Merlin quickly. "I was born with it."

"But. . . that's impossible." Arthur's mind was almost completely blank. The betrayal of one's closest friend can do that to a person.

"Obviously, it's not." said Merlin, "Because I'm here. The most powerful sorcerer ever." Merlin's tone, when he said the words 'most powerful' was wavering somewhere between embarrassment, uncertainty, and apology.

The bit of Uther that Arthur inherited was screaming for him to draw his sword and kill Merlin then and there. Luckily, Arthur had had plenty of practice ignoring his father.

The thing was that if Merlin had always been a sorcerer. . . then he had always been evil. Or he wasn't, and had never been evil. But. . . that couldn't be right. Sorcerers were evil, right? Right? But the words Merlin and evil shouldn't belong in the same paragraph, let alone next to each other. Merlin simply wasn't evil. That was a fact of life. Therefore, not all magical people were evil.

The only thing Arthur could think to ask was, "Why didn't you tell me?" He was going for demanding, but it came out closer to lost.

Merlin looked torn. "I wanted to, Arthur, I really did, I just. . . it never seemed like a good time."

"So. . ." said Arthur, "Why are you telling me now?" Why couldn't you have kept quiet? Why couldn't we have gone on the way we always have? Why do things have to change now?

Merlin closed his eyes, as if he was unable to look at Arthur. He looked pained. "Because. . . this is just a lapse." He looked up at Arthur, and unless Arthur was mistaken, he had tears in his eyes. "A mistake. A small mercy."

"A lapse?" Arthur was confused. "What do you mean?"

"

I mean. . . I'm running out of time." He tried to take a step forward, but he gasped in sudden pain, pushing a hand to his stomach and falling to one knee.

"Merlin?" Arthur stepped forward, ready to help. Sorcerer or not, Merlin was his friend. "What's wrong, what's going on?"

Merlin was down on both knees now, one hand supporting him, the other pressed to his stomach. His breath was coming only in small gasps. But he waved Arthur off. "I- I- I'm fine."

"You're not, though." said Arthur, "What happened?"

Merlin glanced up at Arthur. "Ever heard the saying, 'A life for a life?'"

"I suppose so." Though the phrase did indeed seem very familiar, this seemed a rather trivial thing for Merlin to be asking about at a time like this. "Why?"

"Arthur, I told you, this-" He waved a hand around them. "- this time is a lapse. Soon- really soon- things will go back to the way they're meant to be."

Arthur was growing frustrated. "Merlin, just tell me, were you injured?"

"No." said Merlin, though he still wasn't getting up. "But you were."

"What?"

"Despite what you may think, destiny isn't a picky thing, Arthur." said Merlin. When Arthur still looked baffled, he said, "You might say you were destined to die here."

Arthur frowned. "So when you say things will go back to how they're meant to be. . . I'll die?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. You won't. You see, you were destined to die here. Except you weren't. All destiny really cares about is that one of us dies. The other can live. Originally, the dying one would have been you. But. . . Well, let's say I made use of the saying 'A life for a life.' Apparently, the life of a very powerful sorcerer is-" He broke off, curling into himself in pain. Arthur could barely hear his next words. "- is just enough to buy back the life of a king."

Arthur paled. "Merlin," he whispered, "Please, tell me, what did you do?" Even though he was fairly certain he didn't want to hear the answer.

"I just told you." muttered Merlin, who was now flat on his back, chest heaving. And as Arthur watched, a drop of blood appeared on Merlin's shirt.

Dun dun DUN! Tell me what you think! If you want more, review!

If you think this is a crime against life of any kind, because it's horrible, review!

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