"The Sidhe are a vicious people. You must be careful."

Gaius

Merlin busied himself hanging up Arthur's freshly washed and dried clothing. Arthur sat at his desk, head buried in reams of parchment. A king's life never slowed. Neither does mine, Merlin contemplated. Though, he wanted it that way.

When Arthur had returned to Camelot after the battle of Camlann and his salvation at the Lake of Avalon, he'd tried to get Merlin to stop acting like a manservant. He'd even made magic legal to get his friend to go do something else, or so he said. Merlin acquiesced a bit, but stuck mainly to Arthur's side. After a year, Arthur had given up and accepted that Merlin would always be a perpetual servant.

Arthur sighed loudly.

"What is it?" Merlin asked from behind the wardrobe door. He peeked around to behold Arthur, his arms outstretched, palms down on the desk. The king looked up at him.

"These," he said, gesturing to the parchments. He picked up several one by one as he complained. "This village claims a neighboring one is impinging on its fields. The iron guild is up in arms over mine rights. And this! A woman has written me about her missing chickens."

Merlin grinned. "Chickens?"

Arthur shook his head. "They think I'm some miracle worker!"

"You did save their lives," Merlin reminded Arthur.

"You did that," Arthur said.

"You helped."

Arthur smiled, then frowned again as he considered the parchments. "It's like I govern children incapable of doing anything themselves."

Merlin turned his attention back to the wardrobe. "They respect you and your judgment."

Arthur snorted loudly. "About chickens?"

"At least it shows they trust you."

Arthur didn't reply. Merlin leaned back around the open wardrobe door. "Arthur, don't be so hard on them. They look to you because you mean everything to them."

Arthur sighed again and stood. "Well, I'm sick of looking at this anyway. I need to find Guinevere, get some sleep." He rubbed at his left side.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked with concern.

"Um," Arthur intoned. "I swear every year it hurts worse around the anniversary of Camlann."

"Does it?"

"Haven't you noticed I complain every year?"

Merlin shrugged. "No."

"It's in my mind, then, you think?"

"Yeah. It's understandable."

"Maybe I won't ride tomorrow."

Merlin shut the wardrobe door harder than he intended. "Arthur. We always go."

"I only go because you hound me if I say I won't."

"It's tradition."

"It's only been four years."

"Arthur..."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender. "I'm going. I know it means so much to you. Personally, I just think you want to get me to yourself and away from Gwen."

Merlin chuckled.

"I'm right."

"Maybe a little," Merlin admitted. "You hardly patrol anymore and life here can get...monotonous."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "True. Alright. Out, Merlin. Go find something magical to do."

"Yes, sire," Merlin bowed.

"Stop," Arthur groaned.

Merlin grinned again. Arthur might have put up with Merlin acting like a servant, but he hated it when he talked like one.

Merlin pulled the hood of his cloak up, creeping silently down a chain of back alleys in the dead of night. He reached the door he sought. He knocked softly. After a moment, the door creaked open. "Merlin," an old woman greeted. She opened the door wide, letting the warlock slip inside.

Merlin pulled off his cloak, folding it as he sat at a bench at the woman's table. "How do you feel tonight?"

"Tired," the woman replied. She shuffled to a counter and retrieved a couple bowls of soup. "I hardly sleep anymore." She sat down and slid one bowl over to Merlin.

Merlin ate. It wasn't as good as the castle fare, but he appreciated it more. She gave out of her heart. As they ate, Merlin inquired into the goings on of her children, living outside the capital. He let her prattle on. He stared at her, appreciating the beauty of every wrinkled feature and every white hair.

"You don't have to do this," Merlin blurted out.

The woman stopped talking. She smiled gently and reached out to grasp one of his hands. "I want to do it."

Merlin looked down at his soup, his heart sinking.

"You've been so good to me, Merlin."

Merlin looked up. Good? He was a harbinger of death.

"Yes. You love your king. I love him, too, you know."

"Arthur's hardly ever glanced your way."

"Perhaps not. An old woman like me doesn't turn heads."

Merlin squeezed her hand. "I think you're beautiful."

The woman smiled. "Thank you." She stood. "You should get some rest. It's a long journey we begin tomorrow."

Merlin stood up, put his cloak back on, and walked to the door. The woman clasped his hands and looked into his eyes. He stared into her green depths.

"Don't weep for me, Merlin. I do this of my own free will. Let me have the dignity of it."

Merlin forced back tears in his choking throat. He leaned over and kissed the woman lightly on the cheek, then departed.

The morning dawned early. Arthur and Merlin left the gates of Camelot behind. Gwen always worried that they went alone, but Merlin insisted and Arthur reassured her of their safety. After all, one of them was the greatest sorcerer in the five kingdoms. As they passed through the streets, the people stopped to stare in awe. They knew who they owed the peace of Camelot to.

The journey to the Lake of Avalon took a few days. They stopped here and there to rest and eat. At one point, as they sat by a fire lit with Merlin's magic, Arthur rubbed at his wound again.

"I do feel quite exhausted. I suppose I did need a break."

Merlin looked over at him, fiddling nervously with a stick. "This trip's good for you."

Arthur picked up his own stick and flung it at his warlock, servant, friend. Merlin dodged. "It might be good for me, but I don't know why you like to do it. You always get so morose."

Merlin let out a breath. "It's just...I think about what happened."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm here, Merlin. I'm alive. You succeeded in saving my life...again."

"But I still have the memories."

"So do I, but you don't see me wallowing in them."

Merlin forced a smile. "You were dying. I bet you don't remember very much."

"Oh, I remember what's important. You and magic. That's probably what mattered most."

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin whispered.

"For what?"

"Accepting me."

Arthur grinned. "Alright, Merlin, don't get too sentimental."

Merlin stared at him.

Arthur smiled sincerely. "Thank you for saving me." He leaned back, closing his eyes for a nap.

Merlin sent his sight out. The horse and rider still followed them.

The Lake of Avalon appeared before them. Merlin looked over his shoulder at Arthur. His head bobbed, his eyes opening and closing. "Arthur?"

Arthur blinked rapidly. "What?"

"We're almost there."

"Yes. I see."

When they reached the shore, Merlin helped Arthur dismount. The king didn't even object, letting the warlock direct him towards the water. Merlin sat down. Arthur leaned against his shoulder.

"You know...I do remember more..." Arthur mumbled. "I remember...you begging me not to leave you...I told you 'thank you'...I didn't leave you."

Merlin swallowed uncomfortably and whispered, "No, you didn't."

Merlin felt a hand on the back of his head. He looked over at Arthur. "Thank you, Merlin. For everything."

Merlin nodded, then brought his own hands up behind Arthur's head. "Swefe nu." His eyes grew golden for only a moment, and Arthur fell back unconscious. Merlin laid him gently down. He stood, twisting sweating hands together.

"I'm here!" Merlin called out.

Zinging lights appeared, zipping back and forth so fast one could hardly see them. Merlin waited patiently. A Sidhe elder flew close, hovering in front of his eyes. "You return, warlock."

"I ask you to take my life for his."

The Sidhe cackled in a high-pitched voice. "You ask this every year. If you wish Camelot's Golden Age to continue, you must live. You and the king are one."

Merlin drew in a deep breath. He had to try.

The truth was the bargain he'd struck to save Arthur had been a difficult one to accept, but he had been desperate. Four years ago, Kilgharrah had met him at the lake. He still recalled the dragon's resolute eyes. He neared the end of his life, he said, and would willingly give it. Merlin had been confused until the Sidhe elder appeared.

The lithe little being had floated around Arthur's unconscious form and then declared he could not be saved without sacrifice. The sword point was within a hair's breadth of Arthur's heart. It could not be removed without fatal consequences, not even by magic, but if someone were willing to give their life for Arthur's, the king could be sustained for a year longer.

Merlin had, of course, offered himself. Kilgharrah disagreed for much the same reason the current Sidhe explained. Merlin had thought to despair, but the dragon had offered his own life in exchange for the king's. Merlin had wept as Kilgharrah waded into the water, the dragon revealing his noble intentions at the last. Arthur had revived and lived.

Now, Merlin looked to the shore and Arthur's still form. Four years. Kilgharrah had been the first to sacrifice himself, but two more had done so since, two loyal subjects of Camelot.

Merlin heard steps behind him. He turned to see the old woman coming towards him, meeting him as she promised. He held out his hand to her, fighting back tears. She took his hand. Her face was calm, content. She placed a hand on Merlin's cheek. "My life has never meant too much until now."

A tear escaped Merlin's control, and he wiped at his eyes. He glanced at Arthur. He had never revealed what it took for the king to keep on living. He didn't want Arthur weighed down by the guilt of it, but oh, how he wished he could tell him how much his people gave for him! Some gave their very lives. Year after year, he'd searched for someone with a sacrificial heart, and year after year, they amazed him as they accepted the need to exchange their lives for their king's.

Merlin stuttered. "You can...choose not to do it." He had to ask one last time.

"I have made my choice." The woman kissed his cheek.

Merlin held tightly to her hand, guiding her to the water. She stepped in, slipping out of his grasp and wading as far in as she could. The lights gathered around her, spinning in a blur. She turned, smiling at Merlin. Her form dissolved away. The Sidhe departed.

Merlin heard a soft groan behind him. He ran his hands over his eyes again and turned. Arthur had sat up, rubbing at the back of his head. He yawned. "I fell asleep."

Merlin moved over to kneel next to his king. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Arthur said. "Much better. I know I complain about this, but really, Merlin, this little tradition of yours always seems to make me feel more alive."

Merlin nodded. He gave Arthur his hand and helped him to his feet. Arthur looked out at the tower in the middle of the lake. "Do you ever want to go over there? Explore?"

"It's just an old ruin," Merlin said.

"Maybe some day," Arthur said. He clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "Well, then, back to Camelot?"

"Yes, Arthur. To the people who love you."

Arthur smiled and moved back to his horse. Merlin followed and mounted. Arthur took the lead. Merlin paused, gazing back at the lake for one peaceful moment. Then he turned to follow his friend, back towards Camelot and his search for another sacrificial soul.