It was cold in Camelot, the nobles wrapped up in warm cloaks and thick woolen trousers, while those of the lower class made do with what they had and took comfort in the warm fires slowly heating their homes. The snow rained down thick and heavy, the shivering servant couldn't see a metre in front of him and was currently cursing kings and their prattish snobbishness through numb blue lips. Merlin buried his numb fingers in his arm pits and watched the breath escape his mouth, trying to reach the castle even as the numbness started spreading up toward his hips. The secret warlock tripped and stumbled toward his king's chambers, mumbling insults under his breath.

Merlin shoved the door open to find stone cold chambers. He looked at the stacks of logs next to the empty fire place and chewed his lip thoughtfully, more out of habit than anything taking a quick look around Arthur's chambers before lifting a few of the logs with a flash of his eyes and putting them in place. The young warlock brought his numb hands infront of him. Surely, surely it's okay if I can't feel my fingers? Merlin looked around the room and ducked his head instinctively to hide his glowing eyes as he lit the fire with a short burst of magic. He grinned a little bit to himself. To think that magic has been at the heart of Camelot for a decade would have given old man Pendragon a heart attack. Merlin went to warm himself near the flames when he heard a gasp behind him. He turned around to see Arthur, eyes shining with pain and betrayal. Merlin's eyes pooled with tears.

"Only for you Arthur, only for you." But the young king just looked at him, fury, confusion and betrayal swirling hurricanes in the light sky blue of his eyes. Merlin stumbled backwards and landed heavily on his back, Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat as the king stepped forward menacingly, the harsh winters light glinted off Excalibur's curves as the blade came toward his neck. Merlin closed his eyes and spoke softly, placing himself at the mercy of the king he had once believed in wholly. It was a bit a relief. No more destiny, no more doubts nor regrets. Only death and what lay beyond. Merlin could feel his fingers cramping as they gripped the hard floors at his sides. His tears dripped fast down his cheeks and onto the stone floor as he lay there looking up Arthur's sword arm to his anguished face.

"Arthur, I place myself at your mercy. I'm happy to be your servant till the day I die I meant it then and I mean it now. Do with me as you will." Merlin reached around slowly, careful not to alert Arthur and get his neck slit. He slowly untied his neckerchief and allowed it to fall away from his neck. Merlin tilted his head back to expose his throat and screwed his eyes tightly shut. He knew the sword would be taking his life any moment so he rasped out one last message to his king, determined to get the last word.

"Just, don't be a prat." Now, just one last thing left to do.

Mordred walked through the halls of Camelot red cape billowing out behind him. He smiled at each person as he went, heart light as he saw the acceptance in their eyes, overshadowed by the thought that he would be dead quicker than you could say 'warlock' if someone found out his secret, and Emrys's. Mordred's mind was overcome by hurt, nothing he could ever do could ever please the older warlock. Once upon a time as a young druid, he loved and believed the prophecies and idolized the magic user in them. But after being shunned for so long, despite the words of a hurt child, Mordred was relieved to be with another like him again. Only to find himself shunned all over again by his own kin. That hurt gave to anger and the druid knight continued toward his chambers, scowl set in place. But that was when it had come through, someone opening a mental link. Mordred could feel hurt, anger and… acceptance. The druid came to a halt, blood running cold as he recognized the emotions as the ones of a peaceful man walking to his death. A voice whimpered in his head, one full to the brim of hurt and anguish.

"Swear to me Mordred, swear to me you will protect him with your life." Mordred had barely registered that it was Emrys before he was sprinting for the king's chambers, throwing servants, nobles and knights alike out of his way. The young knight didn't notice the rest of the round table following, or perhaps he just didn't care, he continued his mad dash. As it was, the young knight almost blinded with panic nearly slammed straight into Arthur. But the king wasn't alone. For cradled in his arms was the body of his servant.

Arthur looked at the sorcerer quivering slightly underneath his sword. Though whether it was from the crippling cold or the fear, the young king would never know. He prepared to thrust his sword into his frien- the sorcerer's throat. Words reached his ears.

"Just, don't be a prat." Arthur almost laughed, it was just so Merlin to use those words as his last. For just a few seconds, Arthur thought of letting his guards deal with it. Let them light the sorcerer alight while he stayed in his chambers. But the screams, the pleas, he could never do that to Merlin, no matter how much magic twisted and corrupted him. Arthur watched as the sorcerer, exposed on the floor, gently untied his neckerchief and tipped his chin back with his eyes screwed shut. Arthur swung his sword in a downward arch, his own eyes closed. Arthur, I place myself at your mercy. I'm happy to be your servant till the day I die I meant it then and I mean it now. Do with me as you will. Arthur's eyes snapped open, he hardly registered what he said in the emotional trauma of the situation.

"Guards!" Arthur cursed his cowardliness, now that Merlin was officially taken into custody, actions would have to be taken. Arthur turned his head away as his servant was taken away, not wanting to see the product of his impulse decision. Tears sprung to his eyes as he heard Merlin's pleas and he tried to ignore the guilt tying knots in his stomach.

Merlin prepared for the death blow, he was determined to hold it together. He would not move, he would not flinch nor beg for his life. 'Guards!' No! Merlin thought I can't burn. I won't. He snapped his eyes opened just as guards grabbed his arms and he struggled to get out of their iron grip.

"Arthur! Don't let me burn. Please Arthur, please Arthur." Merlin shook harder and harder, slowly getting taken over by his night terrors. He started to scream and cry as he got stuck in his worst nightmare. The warlock could already feel his lungs burning, his skin melting. He started screaming Arthurs name over and over, completely hysterical in his fear. The guards exchanged a glance and put the prisoner on the floor, holding down his limbs so he wouldn't hurt himself. The men felt pity for the boy, his eyes were overwhelmed with emotion.

"Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!" The boy screamed the name of the one who sentenced him. The elder, having seen many traumatic displays like this one, sent the younger guard to get the king, laws be damned.

Arthur listened to Merlin's screams and cries and slid down the bed post and put his head in his hands. For the first time in years, the king cried over a man who was not his father. When the guard burst in, Arthur didn't even lift his head.

"Get out. Get. OUT!" The young guard swallowed nervously and bowed deeply.

"Your majesty. The boy's having a panic attack, he keeps calling for you." Arthur immediately perked up, not thinking of past orders or expectations but he ran to help his servant. 'What? So you can throw him to the flames later? 'Arthur shook his head free of those thoughts and continued to run, following the screams and cries. When he reached his destination, the young king looked on in shock. Unconscious knights and guards lay both ends and in the middle lay Merlin, staring blankly at the ceiling with flushed cheeks drenched in tears and eyes burning a steady, constant gold. Although his voice was hoarse from screaming, Arthur could hear the heart breaking murmurs.

"No burn, Arthur please. Arthur. No burn. Please." The king hung his head in shame, why did he have to be such a coward?

"Merlin." Arthur whispered softly stepping carefully toward the warlock. Merlin lifted his head slightly, before sighing and smashing his head back toward the floor, Arthur winced as his head connected with the stone.

"I was born a monster. I'm Hunith's bastard." Merlin laughed madly at the ceiling. "Her punishment." Arthur swallowed thickly. Had he caused the boy to go completely mad? Many grown men had gone not right in the head after facing their very worst fear, it seems his just found Merlin's.

"Merlin." Arthur sat next to the mental boy and called his name softly. Merlin cast his golden gaze on the king, guarded and distrustful. What he said nearly stopped Arthur's heart.

"Who are you?" Merlin giggled even as tears collected in Arthur's eyes.

"My magic says protect, protect, protect but then it says lets knock him out and run 'till the land stops screaming." Arthur looked at his former servant.

"The land screaming?" Merlin giggled again even though his mouth tilted down slightly at the corner and his eyes were infected with a small amount of fury.

"Yup! The magic's in pain, so the lands in pain silly." Merlin rolled his eyes childishly and slapped Arthur's shoulder. Feeling more and more guilty about but not seeing any other option, Arthur slammed his fist straight into the young man's temples and carried him to Gaius's chambers.