*SPOILERY STUFF*

This is the end, then?

The knowledge that there will not be a series 6 of Merlin pushed me to finally publish this as a kind of tribute to the greatness that is Merlin. My Saturdays will never be the same. :(

So, for those who don't know I've discontinued Exustio. Sadly, as I stated on the A/N of the first chapter, that story was not planned at all and it just wasn't happening. With Mordred coming in as a knight in season 5 ( am I a seer or what? :P) I saw even more reasons to stop. Mordred is a delightfully complex character in what goes of the season and I simply didn't do him justice. :)

*END SPOILERY STUFF* ( thanks servant123)

However, since the whole point of Exustio was me finally trying my hand at a reveal fic I decided to whip something together for you guys. This is all spurning for a mental image I'd have since I watched the finale for season 3 (one that is used in this chappie) . That means that this is long overdue.

As I stated at the beginning of Exustio I don't believe any reveal can do justice to the actual thing and this is just my version. I would love to see what you guys think, because the possibilities are endless and each and everyone of the reveal theories out there are entirely likable.

This starts in media res so it's alright if there's a little bit of confusion. Hopefully, everything will be explained as we go on. :)

There will be a soundtrack for each part but there is a song that encompasses the whole fic, especially the lines, 'what brings us together is what pulls us apart.' from 'Gone.' by Ioanna Gika. God, seriously just listen to it. It is beautiful. ;)

"What brings us together is what pulls us apart."

- Gone by Ioanna Gika.

What Brings Us Together...

...

Be it true or false, what is said about men often has as much influence upon their lives, and especially upon their destinies, as what they do.

- Les Miserables, 'Victor Hugo.'

...

"Arthur!"

Even when he was teetering at the edge of conscience he recognized the voice.

He'd recognized that voice anywhere but yet the King of Camelot knew he was hallucinating so he did not bother to blink his eyes open and glance at what would be the end. As a result he lay there, awkwardly sprawled over his injured side, feeling the ghost of his breath hitch as it left his lungs.

Still, insistent, leaving a dim echo of unfiltered panic in its wake, the voice rose again, as if from the depths of the ocean.

"Arthur!"

It was several ghosts of breaths later that Arthur realized the touch he was feeling was real and that meant the voice that was whispering reassurances in his ears was actually there, by his side.

The rush of panic, warmth and an undefinable prickling on his heart forced his unwilling eyes to open.

He was expecting to see the end. Perhaps a blade already drawing back to deal the mortal blow, maybe the dark ceiling above him or the smiling faces of his enemies, waiting for the last rise and fall of his chest. Instead, what he saw was what he dreaded and yet desired with all of his heart.

He looked upwards towards an unmistakable pale, lean throat that was convulsing as it spit out words Arthur could not hear. White hands grasped his arm and side, intending to hold on strong enough so that all blood was drained from those fingers…

He forced his eyes to focus so that he could dismiss this hallucination as foolish and impossible but instead of darkening and breaking apart the vision sharpened and Arthur could distinguish, as clear as he could see his own breath becoming white mist in front of him, blue eyes peering down at him with clear distress.

And there was no doubt, then. Not even when, for whatever reason, there was a cloak covering most of Merlin's face and his eyes were blazing with the light of a thousand suns, not even when all logic told him that it could not be true. Because Arthur would recognize his loyal, clumsy fool anywhere.

Merlin was supposed to stay in Camelot. He was supposed to be safe, with Gaius and Guinevere...

He was definitely not supposed to be kneeling on a half-collapsed dungeon with his King bleeding out whilst cradled on his lap.

As soon as the truth dawned on him his heart jolted on his chest in a need to warn Merlin of the eminent danger, on a need to protect his manservant from his own foolishness. He felt his voice rising up and leaving his throat in a murmur as he said,

"Merlin."

The man looked down at him with those eyes full of something Arthur had never seen- it was certainly not power- and they softened, his face crinkling as that familiar smile lit up Arthur's pupils.

"Arthur."

The relief in his voice poured over Arthur, as if Merlin's pure, unaltered happiness at finding his King mostly unmarred and – thanks to the gods-not cold with the paleness of death, washed through his jumbling thoughts and one alone stayed.

Get Merlin the hell out of here.

Easier said than done for Arthur was not counting on his life sweeping quickly through the wound on his side, draining him from all the ability to wrestle his manservant out of the claws of a painful death- not that Merlin would've left anyway- and back towards Camelot.

Why couldn't the idiot leave things alone?

Merlin's throat was moving again, Arthur could see how his Adam apple bobbed up and down before a new stream of whispers left his lips and this time he nearly jolted upwards from the shock when another voice spurned, maybe in an answer to Merlin's.

"We had no choice."

"Enough." Merlin's fingers dug even deeper into his chainmail and his blue eyes stole another quiet glance at Arthur's ashen face before he snapped his head upwards again.

The voice that Arthur could not place because Merlin was everything he could see seemed oddly pleased as it said, "You came."

"You knew I would." Arthur heard Merlin reply, although the words reached his ears by the time Merlin's lips stopped moving. "And yet you've hurt him."

"So it's you. You are Emrys."

It was spat out with a reverence that was reserved for the gods and the paleness of Merlin's face became a shade whiter, if possible. Trying his hardest to remember where he'd heard that name before, the King of Camelot glanced at the half collapsed walls.

The man, whom Arthur could see now though it was only a dark lean shadow, continued. "The protector of the Once and Future King…"

Hands tightened around him almost unconsciously, as if they were driven by an inborn instinct to keep him close and in the dimness of the place Arthur could make the ghost of a mirthless smile pass through Merlin's face. He found himself shivering at the pure loathing in it.

Another second and then Merlin's eyes were looking right into his as his pale hands tapped his sodded cheek, blinking away moisture on those dark blue irises. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, Arthur." He said gently, completely disregarding the dark shadow approaching from behind and titling its head as if to see them better. "I found you. Do you know how much work it took?"

Arthur could imagine. He'd seen Merlin trying to track a deer before and figure out a map while holding it upside down. But yet, his eyes were slowly closing and darkness was creeping at the edge of his vision while Merlin called out his name, even more panicked than before.

Then,

"What do you want from me?!"

It was unmistakable. Merlin's voice was choked with tears and in a dim part of his consciousness Arthur wondered why.

"We wanted to find you, Emrys." The shadow sounded awfully sincere. "But you've proven very difficult to pinpoint. However, it seems that your only weakness is also your greatest strength."

Merlin's breath hitched above the King's titling world.

"Arthur."

The King did not hear what was mumbled after but Merlin's enraged scream after forced his eyes open.

"I will not allow that!"

He glanced upwards through hazed, glassy eyes to find Merlin's own were glazed over.

"I told my men that you would not be thrilled should he be in a state such as this. But they did not listen to me."

No, they hadn't. It had all been a trap. Arthur hadn't had a chance.

Something pressed tighter on his chest as he felt his breath leaving him and it was all too much to draw another one. There was an odd peace around him and the jumbled thoughts in his mind all seemed to dissolve into thin air.

Letting a smile curve his lips upwards though the pain was cursing through his veins like corrosive poison, he decided he could enjoy the fabricated product of his feverish mind while it lasted. God knew he hadn't been able to imagine his life without his loyal manservant by his side for a long time and now his longing was providing him with one last comfort, of having his best friend by his side though he was not really here because, even though the arms holding him felt real, Merlin wasn't in such an immediate danger.

But yet, all of his logic was thrown overboard once more when a cold hand pressed itself to the gaping wound on its side and he felt his body arch in pain and a sound, as a wounded bear, left his throat ragged and torn.

His eyes snapped open…

And above him, Merlin's eyes were blazing gold.

.

Arthur held the look of those blue eyes turned gold with his own while it lasted.

Not once did Arthur look away.
Not once did Merlin look away.

It was as if he were entranced, completely and utterly captivated by the golden light reflecting on his face, pouring from the eyes of the man he thought loyal to no fault, flowing around him while tendrils as light as air and as soft as any feather touched him.

Arthur Pendragon allowed himself, for the space of a few seconds, to loose himself in the embrace of light emanating from Merlin's eyes, in the warmth of something he'd only dreamed of before. His safety.

Yet, all too soon, it was over, and Arthur was left gasping rattled breaths while blue crept back into the eyes of his best friend, replacing the gold gradually until there was none of it.

Then, Arthur knew.

This was not a hallucination, because this was not Merlin. This was an impostor.

Without even realizing it he was squirming away from the sorcerer's touch, whispering a litany of curses and quiet 'noes' as he tried to force himself up with his tied wrists and feet.

"Arthur, please." The man that was impersonating Merlin- the sorcerer- said, looking on the verge of tears. "Don't move. You've just been healed…"

"Don't touch me!" he snarled, astonished at the strength his voice now had and at the way his vision cleared for moments. Seeing Excalibur lying a few feet from him he lunged for it but the sorcerer's arms held him steady so that his eyes were looking up towards the man's face.

"You have to listen to me now, prat." The word was a heavy blow since no one knew of the jest between them. No one but Merlin. "You can do with me whatever you want but now I need you to stop moving and- Arthur!"

Taking advantage of the sorcerer touching the part of his jaw where Arthur's tied fists had punched him the King tried to make his way towards his sword again….

Only to be restrained by a soft arm curling around his midsection.

"I know you're angry." The sorcerer's voice hissed in his ear. "I know you're upset but you I swear I'll explain everything once I get you out of here-"

However the impostor didn't manage to finish whatever he was going to say because Arthur's elbow found his stomach and soon the King had struggled free from the sorcerer's grasp and was crawling towards Excalibur with everything he had.

Different hands, so rough that Arthur marveled at the impostor's obvious care, hauled him upwards and he lashed out, trying to break himself free again only to have one of his enemies take a fist of his hair and yank his head backwards.

Blinking away the dust Arthur had his first clear look at the impostor. The man was kneeling there, his arms lying loosely by his sides, hands covered in blood and soil, eyes welling up for moments and lips pursed into a thin line.

He looked so much like Merlin that it made Arthur's heart flutter against his neck.

"Just let him go." the man that looked like Merlin whispered, not even glancing around to the brutal -looking mercenary that had placed the tip of a blade on his back. "I'll do whatever you want but please…just let him go."

Before any of the men around him could provide an answer Arthur found his own voice rising up, the fear and hate that had taken hold of his heart pouring from his screams as if they were water. "You filthy liar! What have you done with him?"

The gaze of everyone in the room found his and they all wore the same expression of utter astonishment.

"…What?" the impersonator whispered.

"You are not Merlin!" Arthur cried out, fighting so that he could glare directly into the impostor's eyes but failing miserably when another yank at his hair mad him grunt. Still, he continued screaming if only so that he could take from his chest a minimal amount of the horror he was feeling. "Where is he, you bastard? I swear that if you've hurt him…" he trailed off, unable to think of a punishment that could be enough.

The impostor's blue eyes looked surprised beyond belief. Gesturing with his pale hands, as if to remark his words, he sighed before whispering, "Arthur. It's me."

The pounding in his chest went even faster, stuttering when silent tears began to fall from the impostor's eyes. And yet, he shook his head, refusing to let him mind deceive him into thinking something as painful as what he was seeing could be possible. "No! Merlin would never betray me like this!"

"I've never betrayed you." was the mumbled answer.

He paid no heed to the tears falling from the man's eyes, of course meaning to lead him astray, but shook his head once more; pleading silently that Merlin was alright and that he'd managed to escape because Arthur knew that the man kneeling before him, looking up at him with wide, soft blue eyes, was not his manservant.

"You are not him." He repeated, stubbornly looking towards the ceiling and blinking the dirt out of his eyes, failing to acknowledge the fact that it was not dirt but moisture what was starting to blur his vision.

The impostor did not answer him but let out a low growl when the sword at Arthur's throat nicked his skin.

"You mean to say he does not know, Emrys?" the man that had been a shadow in Arthur's consciousness asked, disbelief tainting his every word. "He has no idea?"

"Just let him go." The impostor repeated. He hadn't moved from his kneeling position. His hands were still outstretched in the floor, palms facing upwards, relaxed over the cobblestones.

"Tell me a good reason why I should." The man said before nodding towards Arthur. "And I will spare his life."

A small silence took place in which Arthur felt the blade on his neck press even tightly over his skin.

Finally, the impostor answered, with a softness and acceptance that Arthur had never heard in a human before.

"I'll go with you…willingly."

Holding out his wrists and looking directly into the imprisoner's eyes, the impostor did not stood up, as if all energy had been drained from him from the moment Arthur's eyes had refused to meet his.

At the pure sorrow in the voice of the impostor Arthur found himself, almost unwillingly, wishing that he could look into those eyes. But the man continued, softly, effortlessly, as if he had prepared himself for that moment. "You know who I am. You know what I can do. If you let him go I will not fight, I will not escape, I will not stop you. But if someone touches Arthur Pendragon again I will kill you."

His voice froze hearts as hidden poison swept beneath the softness of his words, solely by the echo of his threat. Then, the rough hands holding Arthur back let him go and he staggered forwards only to be pulled into the impostor's lean arms in an effort to keep him upright.

He found himself face to face with the man, looking into those dark blue eyes and even further, reaching the very soul…. everything inside him.

And Arthur could not bear to look, could not bear to look away. Because what he saw was not at all what he was expecting….

"Merlin."

Just like that, he knew.

He'd been a fool all along.

The man gazing into his eyes with his own tear-filled ones could be no one but his clumsy fool of a manservant.

He'd been blind.

His mind barely registered the whispered, "Yes Arthur it's me," as Merlin's hands unbounded his wrists and feet and ghosted along his shoulders, too afraid to touch him, as if a touch from his hands could frighten him.

Merlin.

A sorcerer.

Merlin smiled at him and said not another word and Arthur could see in the tension of that futile attempt to regain normalcy that he was not hallucinating, that it was all real.

"It can't be…" he found himself saying, shaking his head and grasping Merlin's chin with his newly unbound hands, titling his pale face side to side as if he could find a sign to tell him that it was all joke and that Merlin was most definitely not using magic…

Merlin allowed it, closing his eyes so that Arthur could not see his own betrayed, horrified expression in their reflection. Because disbelief was everything Arthur could feel in those moments. He'd forgotten all about the other men, he'd forgotten all about the mercenaries, necromancers, sorcerers and wizards that surrounded them.

"Seize him."

Arthur's blood ran cold at the shrill command and then Merlin was being torn away from him, grabbed by those thin arms of his that could not lift a sword without keeling over, pushed away none too gently as a hand on the King's own shoulder pressed hard so that he would let go of Merlin's wrist, going as far as to tear away his fingers one by one from the bony hand of his manservant while Merlin still smiled at him from the distance and said, in a cheery tone. "Don't be a prat, Arthur."

He had no time, no time to say anything, no time to even question why he'd shoved Merlin's golden eyes to the back of his mind as his manservant was dragged away from him and he was forced down on his knees, barely aware of his increasing, incessant and desperate struggle to reach for Merlin again, not understanding that the screams echoing in the ear-splitting silence... were his own.

"Go, Arthur Pendragon." They'd said once his screams became murmurs of the word 'no.' "You have nothing more to do here. Go back to your life and enjoy it while you can. We're honor bound to Emrys and cannot touch you."

He did not move, kneeling, as he was, over the cobblestones, finding it hard to believe everything he'd just seen and even harder to understand it. But one thing resounded above all others. He needed Merlin by his side. He could question the man later…they could-they could figure it all later. As they always had.

Together.

He glanced downwards at his blood-stained chain mail, wriggling his fingers through the gaping hole on it and touching the unmarred skin below, soft and pale. Healed.

Merlin had healed him.

With magic.

Still numb, his mind was finally tying all the tendrils and filling the gaps between consciousness and dim awareness, between lying in Merlin's arms and then seeing his eyes blazing gold…

His nails dug into the uneven rock while the unabated feeling of betrayal settled against his heart, once again. He felt himself gasping while blinking again and staring at the sun shining down on him, the outside inviting him to just walk out and bury Merlin's memory deep within himself as just another betrayal. Another friendship that had only been a lie.

Merlin had healed him.

He could not understand…

...Why?

Arthur Pendragon did not rise. He knelt on the dark cobblestones, too stunned to even draw Excalibur closer to him. He knelt, unmoved by the repetitive shoves at his sides as the man tried to push him back, staring at the mouth of the cave Merlin had disappeared through. He knelt and did not utter a word, eyes still fixed on the last he'd seen of Merlin, gentle, clumsy, cheerful Merlin who'd never once steered him wrong.

He could not understand…

…He needed to understand.

All the answer that he sought had just been torn apart from him in less than a minute.

"Where have you taken him?"

The two thugs at his sides -the ones that had beaten him just a few hours earlier and were now keeping his distance just because…Merlin had wished for it- blinked at him.

"You intend to go after him, Pendragon?" One of them asked, and it was clear by the look on his face that he thought Arthur insane.

He did not answer.

But he could not get on his feet and leave either. It felt as if his heart had been torn in two, by another betrayal slapped across his face and by a deeper and ancient tendril that held him in place.

...

To be continued...

Soundtrack for part 1:

Looking for You Again- Matthew Perryman Jones. ( mostly the first verse and chorus...the rest of the song fits on the next part.)

Gone, obviously. :P

Nothing and Everything- Red. (again, this can be applied to later chapters.)

No light ,No light- Florence & The Machine.

Long, long overdue I tell you. :P This has been written down for months.

So that's that. I cannot wait to share the rest of this with all of you guys. *is excited.* Though I cannot wait for the actual reveal to happen- it has too- there are so many good fics out there that it will be hard to top them all. I can't wait to see what the writers do.

Love,

Ocean.