It had been his only option. Trapped at a cliff's edge, Morgana and her men steadily approaching, there was nothing else he could do. Powerful magic and an advantage on the field were too much even for the knights of Camelot. They pushed on anyway, desperately trying to keep Morgana's forces at bay. But Merlin knew that, if he didn't do something, they would either be brought to their knees or driven over the cliff to their deaths.

He had no other choice.

Just as the men began to outflank them, closing them in on all sides, Merlin paused, taking a long, suspiring breath, standing amidst the battle at the cliff's edge. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for what could very easily be his end. When he opened them again, Arthur's eyes were on him, worriedly and confusedly staring back at him, obviously wondering why his faithful friend had stopped himself in the midst of an onslaught.

Merlin looked woefully back at his king, knowing that he was about to put his fate in his hands. He tried to show in his face how sorry he was, how utterly he wished he had always had this man to confide in, how desperately he admired Arthur for all of the small steps he'd made in disproving his father's beliefs. Even the tiniest of admittances made Merlin's heart flutter; the way Arthur had occasionally trusted a sorcerer in a time of need or the little known comments he made when questioning Uther's upbringing. However, all of that seemed so pointless now. Merlin knew, despite talk and demeanor, that Arthur cared for him and that, a revelation like this just might harden his heart, just as it did with Morgana.

He tore his eyes away and spotted Morgana ahead of her men, raging havoc upon the knights. Then, he said a few simple words and his eyes burned gold like the sun. "Ábrecan agéfon."

Morgana's eyes went wide as the ground shook under Merlin's gaze before the very earth began climbing up her ankle and taking hold of her. Roots and leaves and rocks snaked up her limbs and coiled about her body, pulling her down by Merlin's will. Screaming accusation and hatred towards Emrys, she did sink into the earth until it swallowed her whole.

And Arthur looked on. He looked on in utter shock as a tree sprouted from her resting place, bark black and leaves grey. He looked on as Merlin lowered his gaze, hands shaking by his side. He looked on with wide, heartbroken eyes as the boy turned to him, sorrow and defeat in his stare, expression void of treacherous hate or accusation. He looked on as his soul, despite all the evidence before him, burned with the knowledge that another had left him, another had become corrupted, another had betrayed him, the most important one of all.

They stayed, eyes locked for an unmeasurable amount of time. The knights about them cheered with confused glee as they overtook the army, completely unaware to what had truly conspired. Most of Morgana's army had fled whilst Camelot's knights brought down the foolish remainders.

As the war was won, Arthur's heart fell apart. It twisted and churned within him, memories of past betrayals flooding back to him. Merlin could see the battle within his king and wished he could aid him as he always had. But he could not. It would be biased of him to argue his own innocence, especially when he himself did not believe himself to be entirely so. He could not assure Arthur of what the future would bring or that his choice was good. He could only stare back at him, speaking apologies with his eyes and acceptance with his stance.

They were trapped, looking back at one another, frozen in time amongst the fray that continued around them. But they were not immune to it. They never were.

Merlin, falling apart inside as he was, had little warning other than the white of Arthur's eyes. Watching them go wide, he turned to see the rugged form of Agravaine bowel into him, forcing him back as he ran pass.

He looked back to Arthur, his king, his master, his friend, and watched him as he fell, tipping slowly back as though the gods were granting him one last, prolonged look at the person he admired most. The king ran forwards, peering over the ledge and down at Merlin's eyes. They were blue and mortal and looking back in that understanding way that they always had in the past. They were vibrant and vigorously conveying his loyalty. They were there, existing before Arthur eyes until the boy's head came down upon a protruding ledge and he began to spin and flail limply down the rest of the fall before landing dully on the ground a distance below.

Arthur stood there, shock stunning his muscles. Merlin was lost. Emotions of woe and odd relief flooded through him. He stepped away, numb. Merlin hadn't died. Merlin had left. Another man replaced his friend in those final moments. Some vile, sorcerer came and fell in the battle. Merlin was gone. Merlin was missing. Merlin, the most loyal and understanding man he had ever befriended, did not have magic. He was good. He was Merlin. Merlin was gone, fled from existence as if afraid of the light in his body's eyes. Merlin wasn't dead. He was simply gone and his body destroyed.

"Where is Merlin, sire?"

Arthur looked up from his plate untouched and food uneaten. "What?"

"I haven't seen him since you returned last night," were Gaius's words.

"I don't know," Arthur replied, looking blankly back at the man.

"No one else seems to either," the physician sighed. "I fear he might still be out there."

Arthur looked back down at his food. Merlin was here. Merlin was in his meal that he couldn't eat. He was in the bath that he didn't draw. He was in the silence that filled the room. But he was gone.

"No," Arthur denied.

"I'm sorry?" Gaius questioned.

"He's not there."

"You have seen him, then?"

"No."

"You know where he is?"

"No. No, but he's not there. And he is not here."

"I don't understand."

"He's gone."

"Where?"

"Nowhere, Gaius," Arthur answered, looking back up at him with an expressionless face.

A foreign look of loss spread over the old man's eyes. "He's—"

"No," Arthur cut him off. "No, he is just gone."

Gaius closed his mouth, believing to have understood the answer. Resigned, he left the room with a soft, "I understand, sire."

Arthur blinked at the closed door, hit with the knowledge that Gaius had known. It was obvious and yet it hurt. The surrogate father believed that his boy had been banished but the truth was far more disturbing. The wizened doctor would go searching for his ward and find nothing in his place, an empty shell of a sorcerer who forced Merlin out.

The king stood and called a meeting with the round table. The old man needed his closure and Arthur was not a man to keep it from him.

It was strange that no one else had seen Merlin take flight off of the cliff, that no one else had seen his eyes turn a molten gold. When the knights were told to search for his body and tell no one of their mission, they had taken up the task in mournful pride. Each of them had glassy eyes and shaking limbs but they carried on nonetheless, dutifully serving Merlin as they would their king.

The speckled contrast of bodies moving in the courtyard beckoned him from his room. He met with the knights on the flagstones below.

"We found him sire!" Leon called down from his horse, nodding to what Gwaine had cradled in his arms.

"We need Gaius," the knight said hoarsely.

"What?"

"Arthur," Elyan said, "he's alive."

Percival had found him, motionless on the ground and as good as dead. He was lying on an angle; neck stretched out and chin in the air. One arm was at his side and the other was strewn out above his head. His eyes stared blankly out at the sky, the sun shining into them, making them glow under the blinding light. His mouth was parted and, when the knight went to shut the eyes of the deceased, he stopped, able to feel a faint breath on his wrist. Calling the other men over to aid him, they hefted him up and carried him home.

"Has he woken yet?" Arthur questioned, feeling unwanted in the room he used to be able to stride into with pride.

"He's in his room," Gaius answered. "He hasn't stirred."

"Is he alright?"

"I know not," the physician said. "He was lucky to not get very injured in his fall. A broken arm and a few ribs at best. However, the wound on his head worries me. I cannot tell its affects until he wakes."

"May I see him?"

"I need to do my rounds, actually," Gaius admitted as he rose from his seat. "If you could get him to drink this if he wakes, that would be helpful."

Arthur took a small remedy from him. He could hear the concern and the relaxed relief in the elder's voice. He thought Arthur was being forgiving. No, he didn't know what he was doing. He did not know who was in the room beyond that door. Merlin didn't have magic. This man did. Though his name may be the same, the corrupted mind could not be his Merlin. Whenever the boy turned to such evil deeds was when he was lost. The Merlin he knew was his friend. Whoever was left was a stranger.

He settled into the stool by his bedside and looked down at the placid face before him. There were bandages wrapped about his brow and a sling was visible beneath the blankets. The familiar face was so calm and so knowable. He felt his nerves and his sorrows well up inside, but he pushed them down. To appear to be Merlin was not to be him.

"You shouldn't have lived," Arthur said quietly to the invalid. "You're not right. Merlin should be here, but he can't be." He placed the vial on the nightstand before leaning forwards in his chair. "Why would you take Merlin? Magic doesn't need Merlin. Merlin is good and now he is gone, a new man, a new monster in his body. You pushed him out and now we're here."

The body said nothing back to him. Arthur grabbed at his good wrist.

"Wake up," he ordered.

The body did nothing under his grip.

"Wake up," he spat, squeezing and shaking his arm.

The body did not move.

"Wake up!" he shouted, letting go before bringing his fist down on the man's chest. He let out a stout cry of pain before wheezing and turning onto his side. He brought his hand up to feel Arthur's fist, holding it in place against his chest. Arthur could feel the suddenly rapid beat of the heart behind bruised ribs. He tugged away but the hand would not loosen. Finally he yanked it out of its grip, breathing heavily and finding that he had stood up during his struggle.

The wounded man groped at the air and Arthur realized that his eyes had slid open, looking wildly about and seeing nothing. He approached again and took his stray hand. He helped him into a sitting position, trying not to look at the way the eyes searched for him, never to find anything.

"It' dark," he muttered in a foolish voice.

"You're blind," Arthur stated, adjusting the pillows.

He picked up the remedy and held it to the patient's mouth. The man felt the cool glass against his lip and jumped slightly, turning his head away.

"Drink it," Arthur told him, trying again to make him take his medicine. However, he simply turned his head further into the wall.

"Wha' is it?"

"Gaius made it for you," Arthur assured. "It's fine." He tried again.

"No." He held up his hand in refusal.

"You need it to get better."

"Tell me."

"It's going to help, you idiot," Arthur argued.

"Plea'" the boy muttered, suddenly looking extremely lost.

"What?" Arthur stopped.

"Plea', plea', no." He brought his hand to his ear and pressed his palm into his lobe. His brow wrinkled in woe as he continued to pat his ear. "Can't hear. No, no. Arthur . . . where is Arthur? Who are you? Who am I with?"

The king froze. The man before him was deaf and blind, stricken unteachable by his fall. Merlin had been a strangely wise man. Merlin had left. Now he was dumb. The being before him knew neither where he was nor who he was with. He never would. There was no way of telling him.

"It doesn't matter," Arthur said pointlessly, bringing the vial to his lips again.

The boy jumped but did not resist this time. He took the potion and sat back against his pillows. Arthur replaced the container on the nightstand and looked into the boy's eyes as they twitched about, trying to see but finding nothing. They were red rimmed and glassy. He watched as the poor man's brow furrowed and tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Arthur swallowed and stood, looking down at the person who would remain forever alone. But then, Gaius opened the door and saw his ward sitting up and awake.

"Merlin!" he gasped, rushing forwards.

"Don't," Arthur warned him, stepping between the man and the boy he thought a son.

"Why? What's happened?"

"He's simple, Gaius," he informed.

"How so?"

"He is . . . he's blind and—and deaf alike."

"Oh, my boy," Gaius whispered to himself. "Does he know where he is?"

"No."

"Who he's with?"

"No."

"I must examine him," Gaius stated. "Have you found a way to calm him?"

"He's upset," Arthur cautioned.

Gaius looked pass his king to see Merlin softly crying, small noises escaping his lips that he's unaware of.

"I will try to counsel him," Gaius said. "Would you stay here in case I need something?"

"Of course."

Arthur stood aside and let Gaius sit next to his ward. He watched as the boy jumped at the feel of a new hand on his arm. Slowly, the old man gained Merlin's trust, though he still seemed unaware of who exactly was examining him. The physician tested Merlin's ears, snapping his fingers and prodding around at the bruises on his head. Then, Merlin let him look at his eyes, testing them in candle light and evaluating their appearance.

"He still hasn't figured out where he is, I'm afraid," Gaius informed.

"And?"

"He's a bit delirious from a severe head injury, which appears to be the cause of his deafness."

"His sight as well?"

"No," Gaius said, matter-of-factly. "Because of the head trauma, he was unable to move for quite some time. The knights said that, when they found him, his eyes were open and unseeing. My belief is that his eyes were burnt in the sun, being unable to look away."

"Would he have been conscious during this?" Arthur questioned with a morbid curiosity.

"It would be likely, yes," Gaius confirmed.

Arthur nodded and looked back at the figure slouched over in the bed.

"Sire," Gaius addressed him, sounding cautious.

Arthur looked to him.

"You are . . . taking this remarkably well."

"Am I?"

"Yes," Gaius said in a strange tone.

"Why do you say that?"

"I'd have thought you'd be . . . more concerned about Merlin's condition. You're behaving more . . ."

"Indifferent," Arthur finished for him, sporting a stern look.

Gaius went rigid before him, eyes searching the man's face for any form of sympathy left for his friend. As the king left the baffled doctor behind, Gaius realized Arthur's true nature and his attitude towards his servant. He was done with him.

"Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"He's your friend."

"No, he's not."

"Whether or not you're his is irrelevant!" Gwen argued. "He's worried about you despite the fact that it's you who should be caring for him!"

"I don't even know him," Arthur countered, sounding more tired than concerned.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Gwen asked. "You've known him for years. You trust him more than anybody."

"I did," Arthur agreed. "However, Merlin's gone."

"He doesn't have to be," Gwen said softy, coming closer. "He's scared and in pain, but I'm sure we can find a way to communicate with him." She placed her hand on her husband's shoulders soothingly. "He needs you."

For the first time since Merlin was brought home, Arthur seemed to consider this. As his wife rubbed comfort into his arms, he let memories of the Merlin he thought he knew seep back into his head.

Suddenly, Arthur shrugged Gwen off of him, stepping away. Every time he thought of Merlin, it always led to the same damned memory; the few revealing moments before he fell of the cliff, when Arthur's world went spiraling out of order.

"Arthur?"

"You don't understand."

"Then help me to."

"He has magic."

Gwen stopped, mouth frozen over a half formed word. She looked at the betrayed way that Arthur cast his eyes away and watched his Adams apple bob as he swallowed his loss. Magic had hurt Arthur in many ways. It made sense to her now why he would turn Merlin away, especially now that it was so easy, not having to face the look in his eyes.

"That shouldn't matter."

"What?"

"Merlin would never hurt you," Gwen stated, squaring her shoulders and speaking firmly. "You know that, I know you do."

"You don't get it," Arthur muttered. "Merlin isn't Merlin anymore."

"If you had the decency to visit him, you'd know that he is."

"He's not. He's been corrupted by magic."

"He needs you, Arthur!"

"I can't!"

"He's stopped talking! From his perspective, he's alone in the world!"

"And what am I meant to do about that?"

"Help him!"

"And you think that I am somehow more qualified than Gaius to do that?"

"Together, I have seen nothing the two of you cannot accomplish!"

"I can't! Gwen, I can't!" Arthur shouted, turning on his heel as glaring down at Gwen.

"Why not?" she asked. But then she froze. Arthur had bowed his head and, when he spoke again, it was with a low, broken voice.

"How can I face the man who replaced him?" he asked. "Merlin is gone. Magic took him from me."

"No," Gwen corrected. "I do not think that magic has tainted Merlin in any way. He is the same boy he was before. Only now, he is lost. He needs you to find his way."

"If he truly is the same man," Arthur croaked, looking up into Gwen's eyes, his own bloodshot and teary, "then how am I meant to face the man I left for dead?"

"Oh, Arthur," Gwen gasped, enveloping him in a hug.

The king sunk into her, crying into her shoulder. Still, the line between Merlin and magic was an obstacle, but now he was not so sure how tangible it truly was.

Arthur didn't know what he expected but Gaius, haggard and looking like death on two feet was not it. The man appeared to have abandoned all care for his own health in favor of treating his ward. His hair was unkempt and his eyes seemed heavy with lack of sleep. He stood hunched in the doorway to Merlin's room, looking out at Arthur with a stunned expression.

"I must apologies," Arthur stated. "I should be here, helping."

"You are a very busy man," Gaius retorted.

"That I am," Arthur agreed, guilt swelling in his heart.

"I do not blame you if it were simply because you did not have the time," the old man said. His words said things that his tone did not.

"Perhaps," Arthur said, stepping further into the main room, "but something as important as this should have time donated to it."

"Do you truly think this?" Gaius questioned, finally stepping down to meet his king.

"Yes."

Gaius closed his eyes and fondly shook his head with a smile. "Gwen has spoken to you, hasn't she?"

Arthur grinned. "Yes."

"You may see him, if you so wish," Gaius offered.

The king's stomach turned and he looked over the man's shoulder at the room beyond. A firm hand clasped his arm as Gaius gave him an encouraging squeeze. Then, with a deep breath, Arthur walked on.

He stopped just within the room, a musty smell carrying the feel of dormancy through him. On the bed, Merlin sat, eyes settled in a loose position that made it look like he was staring down at his bedsheets. He didn't move, didn't stir, didn't know that anyone had entered. His hair was disheveled and his posture was strange, defeated almost.

Arthur slowly made his way into the room and sat in Gaius's stool beside the bed. Then, he stayed there, looking at Merlin who still thought he was alone. He wasn't sure how he was meant to make himself known, or how he wanted to make himself known. To finally confront a man who he left disabled and abandoned was so foreign to him.

His eyes caught movement and he saw that Merlin's had had begun to work at the blanket, rubbing it in his hand as if to test its softness. At first it seemed strange but then Arthur figured that a man with little senses would take some sort of pleasure in exploring the ones he had left.

It was this that led to Arthur's choice of introduction, him placing his hand atop of Merlin's and letting him feel his presence. Merlin paused, startled at the existence of another person in the room, and inspected the hand that was given to him.

Merlin took out his other hand and sandwiched Arthur's between them. He held the hand closer before whispering, "Hello keeper."

"What?"

"He calls us that," Gaius said, causing Arthur to become suddenly aware that he'd been followed into the room. "He's assumed that we're all strangers, taking care of him. Naturally, he came up with his own name for us."

"Has his deliria come to an end?"

"For the most part, yes," Gaius answered, "though it is difficult to tell for sure considering the loss of one sense, let alone two, can be extremely disorienting. However, it is my belief that, besides the deafness, all mental afflictions caused by his head wound have righted themselves."

Arthur sighed and looked back at Merlin. He noted that his sling was gone and that the majority of his physical injuries had healed. "He's recovered well."

"Indeed," Gaius agreed.

"I think I will have to come here and visit him more often," Arthur admitted. "You look like you could use the help."

Gaius bowed his head. "I would be grateful for it," he thanked.

"Is there anything that needs to be done as of now?"

"In fact," Gaius replied, standing up straighter and wondering from the room, "I will be needing to check up on the lady Meredith. The birth took a toll on her and she does need her medicine."

"And what shall I be doing whilst you are gone?" Arthur asked as he followed him out.

"Serve him dinner," Gaius instructed as he gathered his things. "He can eat food on his own but, as you can imagine, he needs help finding it."

Arthur huffed. "Yes, I can see that."

"The soup is on the fire," Gaius told him, "and there's bread in the cupboard. You may want to walk him down to the bench to eat."

"Will do," Arthur said.

"And Arthur;" Gaius added, door open and ready to depart, "keep him company."

"I will," Arthur promised before Gaius smiled and shut the door.

The table set and the meal prepared, Arthur wondered back into Merlin's room. Again, the boy was running his hands along the blankets, seeming to have found a loose thread and wound it about his little finger. Arthur stopped him by placing gentle hands on his shoulders. Then he tapped on the boy's legs and guided him into a standing position. Merlin muttered his thanks as he was walked carefully down the stairs. Getting him into the chair was mildly more difficult. Merlin mistook one of the arms for the other and nearly tried to sit down on thin air. Arthur adjusted his path, however, and he lowered himself down.

Merlin settled in before placing his palm against the table top. As he searched for the food, Arthur brought it to him, sliding the bowl of soup across the table until it bumped into his outstretched fingers.

"Thank you keeper," Merlin said as he found the spoon and brought it to his mouth.

Arthur sat in the seat opposite of him and watched him eat. He tried not to see his friend in the blank eyes across from him. Though Gwen's words moved him, he still was not ready to accept that the man he had handicapped so drastically was truly his dearest friend. To him, it seemed easier to pretend that the real Merlin was lost rather than to accept that he had reduced him to someone so isolated from the rest of the world. If Merlin truly did have magic and was somehow spared by the corruption that overtook his sister, Arthur wouldn't know what to do with himself, having done such an evil to so good a man.

"Are you still here?"

Merlin's voice brought Arthur out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw that the man had paused in his meal. He was hesitant, but reached out his hand to tap Merlin's, letting him know that he was present.

A small smile crept onto Merlin's lips and Arthur wondered what he wanted, why he had summoned him when he cannot reply or help Merlin in any way. "You shouldn't be," he said finally, sliding his hand out from underneath Arthur's.

"What?" Arthur said needlessly.

Merlin remained silent for a long moment before he let his hands sink into his lap as he spoke again. "I don't want to take up your time and your life," he admitted, voice a bit low and slightly slurred. "You shouldn't take care of me. There's no reason to."

Arthur opened his mouth to retaliate but stopped. Merlin would not hear his objections. Reconcilement was futile. So, he stood and walked round the table until he was at Merlin's side. There, he placed his hand on his shoulder, not knowing what else could possibly be done.

"No," Merlin uttered, shrugging him off and turning his body away.

"Merlin, I . . ." Arthur started, reaching for him again. He clasped both shoulders this time and turned him so that he might lay eyes upon his face. Merlin drew his shoulders up to his ears to shy away but Arthur caught a glance at how he had screwed his eyes shut and hidden a woeful grimace. Stepping away, he saw how his hands had been balled up into fists and the way he physically drew into himself.

So, Arthur stepped away. He sat down in a nearby chair and watched him. Throughout all the time he spent sitting there, Merlin hardly moved. He could hear the boy's breathing, the way it seemed as though he were trying to hide the fact that he was holding back tears but was failing to do so, on the account that he could not hear himself. He saw how he shook, how he clenched his entire body because he hated how much of a burden he was to the world.

Gaius returned to Arthur, staring at Merlin's hunched form with a blank expression and a lost look in his eyes. The old man's gaze followed to Merlin and, when he saw the state he was in, he immediately set down his things. "I was hoping he wouldn't do this tonight," he said.

Arthur looked up at that. "He's done this before?"

"He says such terrible things about himself," Gaius said absentmindedly as he rushed to his ward's side. "This is why I have been trying to remind him of where he is."

"What have you tried?"

"I have walked him around the room," Gaius explained as he placed his hands on Merlin's arms and led him into a standing stance. "I've fed him his favorite meals. He just seems too distracted."

"By what?"

"Well," Gaius continued as he walked Merlin back towards his room, the boy remaining stubbornly silent, "I suppose your banishment."

"Banishment?" Arthur questioned.

Gaius stopped at the foot of the small stairs. "You did banish him, milord?"

Arthur stared back at him open mouthed, eyes glistening with his lies.

"If you did not banish him," Gaius said as he took a few steps away from Merlin, "then how is it that this has become of him?"

"Gaius, I . . ." Arthur stammered. "Gaius, I can't."

For the first time since he had met the man, Gaius seemed angry. He quickly composed himself, however, and looked pitifully back at his king. "I have been the one taking care of Merlin," he said in a warm, calm voice. "However, it is clear to me now that he is more a burden to you than he is to me."

With that, he continued to lead Merlin into his chambers, leaving Arthur alone in the main room whilst he prepared the invalid for bed.