Author's Note:

Sorry. I haven't edited it. I'm kinda sick right now and drowning in make-up work, so I really don't have time to revise it. And since this is one of the more...bleh...oneshots, I'm really no interested in it at the moment. But I will get around to editing. One day.

Leave any nit-picky things you find in a review! It'll really help me out:)


"I still can't believe how lucky I was," Arthur commented. "I owe that boy my life and…I don't know who he was or where he's from. We need to make sure we give him a decent burial," he said, addressing his servant.

Merlin glanced at him, thinking about the young boy, Daegal. He had been so young and naïve. He almost reminded him of himself, in fact. The poor boy had gone through so much in his lifetime, and when he had finally made a friend, done something he was proud of, he was killed by a dagger – a dagger meant for Merlin. It just wasn't fair.

"I'll do that," Merlin agreed, bringing the royals their dinner, "if you'd allow me the time."

"Oh, so you can go and visit that girl again?" the king teased. He saw Guinevere send a warning glance at him, but he dismissed it. The idea of making fun of Merlin was simply too much fun. He could finally seek his revenge for all of those times said manservant teased him about his queen.

"What?"

"The girl," Arthur drawled out, smiling mischievously at his friend.

"Don't have one," Merlin sighed, hobbling over to get the pitcher of wine. He should know that better than anyone. For a moment, Merlin thought that Arthur had meant Freya and he was hit by an irrational sense of hope. Had Freya come back? Was she alive? How had Arthur known?

"That's not what Guinevere tells me," Arthur protested.

Ah.

Merlin turned around and glanced at the queen, letting the coldness show in his eyes. He saw her send another glance at Arthur, then she turned to Merlin, smiling pleasantly, but her eyes didn't express the warmth that usually came with a smile like that. Her eyes were empty, cold, warning.

Alright, Merlin could play this game. He played it for over a year with Morgana. He was already an expert. He could handle this. But he wasn't going to let Gwen slip through his fingers. He was going to bring her back, show her the light. He was not going to fail her, like he did with Morgana. He couldn't lose her.

"So," Arthur said, breaking Merlin away from his thoughts, "why don't you tell us all about her?"

Merlin poured wine into Arthur's goblet, then made his way over to Gwen, giving her the coldest look her could muster while in Arthur's presence.

"Right," he said.

"…and why you're walking with a limp," Arthur added.

"What's her name, Merlin?" Gwen asked.

A torrent of fire flashed through his eyes, startling Gwen, though she caught herself before she flinched. Merlin schooled his expression, then glanced back at Arthur, who was looking at him expectantly. He backed up against the wall, leaning against it and trying to ignore the throbbing in his leg while managing to look like a proper servant.

He thought about how to answer Gwen's question, but ended up with, "Freya. Her name was Freya."

For a moment, there was a flicker of shock in Gwen's eyes, for she heard for herself the waver in Merlin's voice and the sadness and wistfulness in his eyes. He wasn't lying. She found herself leaning forward, wanting to know more. Merlin had once had a girl? Maybe she and Morgana could use this for their advantage.

Arthur himself noticed the sheer honesty in his manservant's words and blinked. He had never really considered his friend having a girl. Maybe one day, in the future, but certainly not now. He was just too… Merlin. Besides, what girl would fall for Merlin?

"What is she like?" the king asked. He was happy for Merlin. The man needed something like this. Even though he had never said it out loud, he understood that Merlin's life could be stressful at times. When the idiot wasn't at the tavern, of course.

Merlin sighed, keeping his emotions inside him. He couldn't afford to let them show. Not here, not now. This wasn't the time. "She was…beautiful. The prettiest girl I've ever seen. Sorry, my lady," he added to Gwen. She simply smiled again and nodded. "She was kind and strong. She understood me…and I could be…myself around her. I had nothing to fear. Nothing to hide. I – I loved her."

Arthur's eyebrows kept going up and up and up. Merlin? In love? The idea was laughable! But here he was, telling them about her, and the king could not deny the honesty in this man's eyes. The man who was in love. Was.

"What happened?" Arthur asked gently.

Merlin swallowed, staring at the floor. "She was killed…a long time ago."

Arthur's mouth dropped open. Dead? The love of Merlin's life was dead? Killed? Murdered? The man was much stronger than Arthur gave him credit for. If his Guinevere was killed, he wouldn't know what he would do. But maybe this was the reason why Merlin hadn't quite been himself as of late.

"How long ago was this, Merlin?" Gwen asked gently.

"Maybe four…five years ago. It's been a while," Merlin replied. "I was honoring her and her family. That's why I was absent from my duties. I'm sorry. I was just…" he trailed off, but Arthur didn't notice. He was in shock.

Merlin's girl was murdered years ago? How had he not noticed. Certainly something like that would have driven the man into depression at least for a little while. Merlin wasn't that strong…was he?

"Who killed her?" he found himself asking. He knew it was a little insensitive, but he didn't care. He was angry on Merlin's behalf. He wanted this sick, twisted murderer found and dead. How dare he put Merlin through this pain?

But Merlin shook his question off. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago."

Gwen stood and offered Merlin a small smile, then turned to her husband. "I do hope you'll forgive me, but I have a few duties to attend to. And Merlin," she said, before turning to leave, "I am so sorry for your loss. Just know you're not alone. You'll be together again."

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the threat, but was grateful when she left. His knees were becoming weak, his limbs felt heavy, and his head felt waterlogged. He found that if he moved his head too quickly, the world would tip slightly. His wound felt slightly warm, too, signaling the onset of an infection. Dammit.

Merlin let out a surprised huff of breath when his legs gave out from underneath him, and his slid to the floor, dropping the thankfully empty pitcher of wine as he did so.

Arthur looked up at the sound and remembered the last time he'd heard it, all those years ago at the Hallow's Eve Feast, right before the incident with the Dorocha. Merlin had dropped his pitcher, silencing the whole hall, then proceeded to fall to the floor with shuddering breaths. His eyes had been so lifeless, his skin so pale. It had scared Arthur more than he cared to admit, yet he had to stand by and do nothing, being the regent. Now he was king and he was alone, so, dammit, if he wanted to go and help his servant and make sure he was alright, he would.

Arthur stood up, and looked over to where Merlin was sitting on the floor, back leaning against the wall. He was blinking, seemingly trying to get his eyes to work properly while his shaking hands were searching for something in his jacket pocket. He was horridly pale, and had a faint grimace, like he was about to be sick.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked tentatively. "Are you alright? You're not about to die on me, are you?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he found what he was looking for, and pulled out a vial from his pocket that was filled with clear liquid. He uncorked the small bottle and forced it down his throat. His hand collapsed to his side, as though too weak to do much more, and he leaned his head back on the wall, staring up at the ceiling while a few violent shudders ran through him.

"Merlin?" the king asked again, worry beginning to set in. What was that black smudge on the side of his mouth? "Merlin, what's wrong? Should I fetch Gaius?"

"No," Merlin groaned, struggling to his feet. Arthur came over and offered a helping hand, guiding him over to the seat right of his own. "I'm fine. I – just – really need to talk to you. Right now."

Arthur was about to tease him, to lighten the situation by using an old line of his, You don't get it Merlin, do you? I decide when we need to talk, but he refrained when he saw the deadly serious look in the man's eye. This situation didn't need lightening. It was serious. Whatever Merlin was about to tell him was not to be taken lightly.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, settling himself into his seat at the head of the table.

"I need to tell you where I really was for the past couple of days."

The king sent him a look of confusion. "You just told me. Or did you make all of that up?" If that was the case, then the king was impressed; he didn't realize just how good of an actor Merlin was.

But Merlin shook his head. "No, it was true. All of it. Just the part about leaving to honor her was a lie. I'm sorry. I had to, Arthur."

"So…where have you been?" he asked, getting slightly suspicious.

"The Valley of the Fallen Kings."

"The Valley of the Fallen Kings?" Arthur repeated in confusion. "I was under the impression that you detested the place. Why were you there?"

"I was tricked. A few nights ago, a young boy snuck into the castle and sought me out. He told me he needed me that his sister was ill with the sweating sickness and that I was the only one who could help him because he was a Druid. He was untrusting of the Official Court Physician. So I agreed to go with him the next morning. We made the journey, but it was a trap. He wasn't a Druid. He was a poor boy who needed money, something Morgana could give him."

"Morgana?" Arthur asked, feeling himself go cold.

"Yes. She was there, waiting for me. She attacked me and poisoned me."

"Why would she go after you?" Arthur asked.

"I – I – well…" Merlin trailed off, not quite sure where to go with this. He figured he should stick to the truth as much as possible without giving away his identity as a warlock. "I've meddled in her plans a lot. For example, remember the time, right after we found her when she went missing, the army of the undead attacked? The skeleton warriors? Your father claimed that Morgana snuck down under the castle and destroyed the source of the enchantment. But she was the one who planted it there, she was there protecting it…"

Slowly, comprehension dawned on the young king. Merlin was the one who "single handedly turned the tides of the battle." Merlin had been the true hero. He had stood there and watched as his enemy was praised, took all the credit. That's why Merlin had mysteriously vanished that night.

"You…you destroyed it," said Arthur, staring at his manservant. He was so tall and thin, still with those big ears. It was silly to think of the clumsy man as a hero.

Merlin simply nodded. "I did. She still hold a grudge for that, along with other things, but the point is, she tricked Daegal – the Druid – and myself, and nearly killed me…again."

Ignoring that last part, Arthur asked, "How did you get away?"

"Daegal took pity on me, and helped. He prepared a tincture that saved my life."

"I see that we both owe the boy our lives, then."

Merlin sighed, looking down at the table for a minute. After a moment, Arthur was surprised to see his eyes harden, and he raised his head to look up at the king. "When I woke up, he told me who was responsible. It was indeed Morgana, as I had reasoned, but she had an accomplice. The accomplice is here, Arthur, within these castle walls."

"Is the accomplice the same person who tried to poison me?" Arthur asked.

Merlin gulped, looking extremely nervous. "Yes, sire. The very same."

"Who, then?"

There was a pause, then Merlin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the wooden table. "Arthur, have you noticed anything of Gwen as of late? Does she seem…different to you?"

Arthur's first response was confusion as to why the hell Merlin would be bringing up his wife right then. His second response was no, Guinevere was as beautiful and kind as ever. But then, he considered it. He couldn't deny that his wife had seemed more pushy as of late, but he figured that was only because she wanted to protect him, offer him advice, and she was usually right anyway. But then there were also the looks on her face, when she thought no one was looking. She would have this scowl, like she was greatly irritated. Arthur traced it back to…

"Well, I suppose. Ever since the – "

"Dark Tower," Merlin supplied.

"But she had lost her brother, her only family, Merlin. I think it's perfectly acceptable to be slightly different when dealing with grief such as that."

"Arthur," Merlin said slowly, looking at him, "Gwen would never allow something like that to change her permanently. She was locked in the Dark Tower alone…with Morgana."

Arthur stared at his servant as the weight of his words hit the king. No, no. It couldn't be. Merlin was mistaken. He had to be…

"Merlin," Arthur said coldly, "You do realize you speak treason?"

"And I wouldn't unless I was absolutely sure!" Merlin protested. "You said Gwen told you that I was out seeing a girl! I wasn't! I only told Gaius that I was helping the Druid boy! Please, Arthur, you have to believe me!"

"Guinevere would never have us poisoned, Merlin," Arthur said, "no matter what we'd done. She's not that kind of person."

Arthur was getting impatient while Merlin was growing desperate. It was imperative that the king believed him! Gwen could prove just as dangerous, if not even more so, than Morgana.

"No, she wouldn't," Merlin agreed. "That's why I believe Gwen is enchanted. She'd never do something like this."

Arthur rubbed his forehead. "Do you have any proof, Merlin?"

Merlin bit his lip, thinking. "Come to the Darkling Woods, tomorrow, at midnight. She's going to meet Morgana there, I'm sure of it."

Arthur looked about ready to burst from anger, but before he could so much as say a word, Merlin interrupted him.

"Arthur, I know how ludicrous this must sound, but I don't want to make the same mistake I made with Morgana. I knew of her betrayal, but I kept silent, hoping that I could show her the light. Because of my foolishness, she almost took Camelot for herself. Gwen may be your wife, Arthur, but she's also my friend. I don't want to see her hurt. Please, Arthur, I'm begging you. For once in your life, just – listen to me!"

Arthur saw the sheer desperation in Merlin's eyes, the helplessness. He knew the man was telling the truth, but that didn't mean he had to like it. But Arthur had been through too much. Everyone seemed to have a knack for betraying him – his father, Agravaine, Lancelot, Morgana, even his own wife, and if Merlin was telling the truth, this would make it the second time she'd betrayed him. Merlin seemed to be the only one he could really trust, the one who had stuck by him through absolutely everything. If Arthur couldn't trust Merlin's judgment, then who could he trust?

Once again, he looked into the fear-filled eyes of his servant. The poor man was frightened not of, but for him. He really believed that Guinevere was enchanted and dangerous. He seemed to be pleading with Arthur, begging him to believe him.

He remembered back to dinner, the glares that his wife and his servant had exchanged. Merlin looked as though he hated her for a second, while Guinevere seemed to be teasing him, and now that Arthur had this new piece of information, he could piece everything together. Guinevere was amused at Merlin's inability to do anything because of his status. Merlin couldn't go gallivanting around the castle, screaming about how the queen was a minion of Morgana. Such acts could end Merlin up at the chopping block. Guinevere was under the impression that she had the upper hand, the advantage. She felt that she was invincible.

He also remembered her smiles at Merlin. To anyone else, they would've thought the smiled perfectly warm and radiant, but now, Arthur realized that the smile never quite reached her eyes. Her eyes remained cold while her face formed a smile.

The evidence was staring the king in the face, and he couldn't deny it. Perhaps his wife was enchanted. She would surely never do this by her own free will. Arthur was the man she loved, and Merlin was her best friend. She'd sooner die than do anything to hurt them.

So Arthur looked Merlin square in the eye. "You'd better be right about this, Merlin, because if you aren't…"

"Actually, I'm kind of hoping I am wrong…"

Arthur allowed for a small smile to grace his lips as he looked at his servant, the man he considered to be his greatest friend. He had never had a true friend before Merlin. In fact, he was closer to Merlin than any of the Knights, whom he had fought battles with, the men he trusted above all others.

Except for Merlin.

The man was so ridiculously loyal, and Arthur wouldn't trade their friendship for the world. He would die for Merlin, as Merlin would for him. He had proven himself time and time again, much more than Guinevere, though it pained him to admit it.

He smiled fondly at his friend as he helped him stand. "Now come on, you idiot. Let's get you to Gaius."

"But – "

"Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."


Author's Note:

That was cute to revisit:) God, how I miss Merlin. If I get twenty reviews for this oneshot, I'll upload the second one early! :) I like reviews. Even flames. Flames are pretty:)

~theAnonymousParadox