This one, believe it or not, is actually for my sister! *le gasp* Unbelievable - and of course, the one valid and motivation enough for a reason to bring me back to writing, though admittedly, it's still going to be slow updates as I'll only be writing during school breaks

Anyway

So, as my sister had requested, she wanted to see for once at least Mordred being killed by Arthur's hands from the final episode, and maybe just leaving it there so that Arthur can live and all (of course!) and obviously, a magic reveal as well :)

So this one's for you, Akka! :D

People were dying all around him, both his own and Morgana's men alike. And yet for all that the Knights of Camelot were giving their best, more men dressed in the black garbs of their own uniform kept pouring in, leaving Arthur weary as he fought - his tiredness never showing in his fighting though - wondering when this war would ever end.

As Arthur ducked a sword coming from behind him, neatly cutting his own sword into the mercenary's chest as he turned around while still ducked under, a loud screech erupted from the skies, and as the man's dead body keeled over, Arthur looked up just in time to see the long white form of a crippled dragon fly ahead before it turned his head to the grounds below and opened its mouth to let out a jet of fire. Ducking again to avoid getting burnt, Arthur's eyes roamed the field before his glance fell on Morgana, his heart panging as he took in the cruel sight of his sister's face eagerly drinking in the sight of all this destruction. It seemed so long ago when he could still remember her sneaking bread past Uther's guards to give to the poor when Camelot had been struck with the famine of his own bringing.

The roar of another mercenary approaching was his only warning, and he tore his eyes off the woman he once adored to throw himself back into the mindless actions of fighting and killing enemy after enemy, man after man, life after yet another needlessly dying life.

Fighting, dodging swords and the fire hurtling from the dragon's snout from above, and frantically looking around whenever he could for his knights to see who was still standing, and who had fallen, all had slowly started to take its toll, and just as his muscles were starting to scream for him to stop after protesting for this long, he felt someone's sword coming down on him from behind, knowing that even as he turned that it would be too late, that this was when he would finally fall - when a burst of white light erupted, brightening the entire darkened valley, and the group of men that had been fast approaching Arthur were thrown backwards. Confused, Arthur turned around just in time to see the burst of white light again, and another group of men flew backwards, unmoving once they hit the ground with a solid thump. Looking up, Arthur found himself looking into the eyes of a wizened old man holding a staff, his red robes old and clearly covered in dust. It was the same man who had once saved Gwen's life knowingly or unknowingly, and had taken the life of Arthur's father instead later on.

And here he was now, saving Arthur and for some reason, the King felt lightened, as if the presence of this very man meant victory itself for Camelot.

Dragoon, as the man had introduced himself.

Arthur went back into fighting yet again, briefly hearing his sister screech a name he had heard few times before and still meant nothing to him -

"Emrys!" Light erupted again, and out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw his sister fly backwards, similar to all those other mercenaries, before hitting the stone wall behind her and then slumping - hopefully unconscious if not dead - to the ground, hidden behind a large rock.

Everyone else's attention was broken - again - as following a screech, the roar of the sorcerer's words made everyone pause and look up, Dragoon's voice heard even above the dragon's screeching.

"Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai! Weas!" The white dragon screeched again, and for a moment it looked a lot to Arthur as if the dragon was forced to bow its head down before flying away, and for a few seconds nothing was heard.

Arthur turned back to his knights, raising his sword with renewed vigour.

"For the love of Camelot!"

Camelot's knights cheered, going back into their fighting with their spirits much higher than before.

After that, aided along with the help of the strange, old sorcerer, the rest of the fight blurred in Arthur's mind until the last of the mercenary standing around him fell to the ground, and yanking his sword out from the corpse, Arthur regarded the land around him. A quick glance to the cliff above showed the man to be missing, and briefly Arthur wondered of the sorcerer's whereabouts even as he registered his still missing sister, before he finally allowed himself to walk around. He had only taken a few steps before he fell in front of one of his own knights, the man's raised arm which had captured Arthur's attention falling, the life just having left the man, and he took a deep breath, staring morosely ahead.

Rocks crunched behind him with the sounds of footsteps slowly approaching, and from the reflection of one fallen man's armor, he saw one last man dressed in black garb approaching him, his sword unsheathed and raised high -

Without even consciously thinking of his actions, he had quickly twirled around, once again on his feet as Arthur parried the sword coming from above his head, and pushing it away, he lunged his sword forward, getting the man's torso with his sword just slipping through from under the man's breastplate. It was only then did Arthur meet the man's eyes, and his heart froze as he distantly heard the sword of the man in front of him clatter to the ground. He had killed this man in less than five seconds, and yet in none of those five seconds had he stopped to properly look at the man before him.

"Mordred?" He stared. Mordred started to fall, but Arthur let his own sword fall to the ground so he could lunge forward and catch the druid in his arms before the boy - and really, he was no more than a mere boy - could fall to the ground.

"You… gave me… no choice," Mordred whispered, slowly going limp in Arthur's hands.

"If there was one thing I learned," Arthur whispered, long after he felt Mordred's life leave him. "It is that we always have a choice," he slowly lowered Mordred to the ground, before falling backwards from his crouch, his hand touching his sword and he brought it close to him, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his head on them, his sword held loosely but firmly in his grasp as he finally let himself take deep breaths after what seemed to be ages.

Transforming himself from his aged form back to being youthful had never felt like it took as long as it did now, and with every passing second Merlin felt himself growing more and more agitated when he still couldn't see Arthur, even when he was at last walking through the hills of Camlann. He was looking at each face that belonged to a man dressed in red, his heart stopping as he lifted the people's faces and only resuming its erratic pace when he saw yet another man not to be his king, before quickly moving on to the next man he saw with blonde hair. Eventually, after what must have been only mere minutes but to Merlin felt to be years, he came across a man lying on his back, his blue eyes looking to the sky but unseeing, and Merlin felt his stomach drop when he recognized the man on the ground, but even more worryingly, the man sitting at the corpse's feet.

He rushed forward, dropping the staff he had been holding on to and landed roughly on his knees, but ignored the pain of the rocks digging into his knees as he fearfully reached out a hand.

"Arthur-" He suddenly pushed himself backwards as Arthur lifted his sword up at the sound of his name, but when Arthur saw it to only be Merlin, his eyes softened, and immediately his sword's tip fell to the ground again, and well away from Merlin's neck.

"Merlin," he sighs, letting his head fall back. He lets out a dry, humorless chuckle, but Merlin knows, that despite being relieved to see the manservant the king can't truly bring himself to laugh, not when so many have died…

"How are you feeling?" Merlin finally says, his eyes assessing Arthur and trying to figure out if the man in front of him is injured, and really, right now that is his main concern. Mordred may be long gone, but many can leave affects in various ways even beyond their death.

Arthur tilts his head forward, looking at Merlin silently for a moment before sighing again and slowly getting to his feet, Merlin following his actions as he picked up the fallen staff.

"I'm fine," Arthur shook his head. "Where've you been?" Arthur looked at Merlin again, this time his gaze steady and not straying anywhere. Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes and go over to make sure his king was fine for himself.

"It doesn't matter," Merlin replied. "We should get you back to Gaius-" Arthur cut him off.

"I did say I'm fine," Arthur said dryly but he was already moving closer to Merlin, looking down at Mordred's body with a grim look.

"-And Gwen," Merlin finished, his tone just as dry now as he looked at Arthur, desperate to take away the man's attention from the druid. "Come on Arthur, everyone's looking for you," he said, this time his voice soft, and that managed to tear away Arthur's gaze from the corpse, making the king look back to his servant, and he nodded. Together, they set towards the tent where Gaius and Gwen had set their makeshift infirmary.

It was silent between them for a moment as Arthur looked around morosely at all his fallen knights, his face growing more and more grim with each dead knight they passed, but then Arthur suddenly frowned as he turned to look at a knight at Merlin's side before his eyes fell on Merlin.

"Where did you get that staff from?" he suddenly demanded, and Merlin pale, looking at the staff in his hand by his side.

"This? Uh.." Merlin hesitated, trying to rapidly come up with an excuse, but before he could even speak, Arthur was already going on ahead of him.

"This is the same staff that old sorcerer up on that cliff had been holding! The one he used to blast many of the mercenaries away!" Arthur's eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked at Merlin more sharply. Both of them had stopped a while ago itself, but now Arthur was standing directly in front of the warlock, his eyes narrowed and assessing.

"Merlin," Arthur said, his voice low.

"Where have you truly been all this time?" He asked.

Merlin stared.

It would be so easy to lie, Merlin thought. After all Mordred was dead, Morgana was gone, for all he knew Merlin had managed to defeat the one part of his destiny that always burdened his shoulders. But now, with one last prophecy to fulfill that he, Merlin, with all his heart wanted… how could he continue lying any further? Because from what Merlin could see, lie now and easily get past this situation, only to again be confronted with yet another situation where he could confess his magic, but again and again continue putting it off for another time, the next time as he would from now on be promising himself…

When could Arthur ever bring back magic to all of Albion if Merlin didn't reveal his magic to his king? And really, what better time to reveal it now when one prophecy had just been defied and with one step, another prophecy could finally be on it's way to the making?

And besides, with each passing second where Merlin pondered the situation, Arthur's face was easily growing more and more tense, stiff, and closed off as Merlin didn't reply.

Finally, Merlin opened his mouth to reply.

"I was at the Crystal Cave in the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

"Where have you truly been all this time?" Arthur asked with a sinking feeling in his gut.

Any other time, had Arthur asked of Merlin's whereabouts any other time, so long as he knew his manservant wasn't currently injured or looking as if he was about to pass out like a girl, he wouldn't pay too much heed to whatever answer Merlin would have given, too relieved that Merlin was safe in his presence again, as he should be. But now, with all these events that occurred, and having just killed a man that he'd have never thought he'd actually see again, and in such a state as well, his mind was working on overdrive - a complete opposite to how one would usually feel after a long exhausting battle.

Merlin had disappeared. In the length of time that he had been gone, he had not only heard the man's voice in his mind when he was asleep, but he had also been helped by an aged sorcerer that always looked remarkably familiar, and was always present when Merlin was not. The sorcerer, whose very eyes and even eccentric personality at times as well reminded Arthur of someone he knew, had held a staff as he drove away the mercenaries and Morgana with his magic, before disappearing. And now Merlin was here again, his blue eyes staring at Arthur in concern and something else the King could not name as he held on to that very same staff.

And oh, how very easy it would be to just accept any answer Merlin would deign to give, if only he would even open his mouth and speak -

"I was at the Crystal Cave in the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

Arthur reeled back in shock, as if he was struck. Of all the answers he had been expecting, this surely was not one.

Actually, strike that. He hadn't even known what to expect, really. As it was, he could only open and close his mouth - and he was very aware how fish-like his behaviour was, and wouldn't that have been a great opportunity for Merlin to surely grin and tease him about it if only he wasn't looking as if he had just committed a great crime - before he could finally make his voice work again.

"What in all of humanity were you doing there? Trying to get yourself killed?" Arthur asked bewilderedly. "Honestly, Merlin, you could have just come with me for that!" And there it was again, that sting of betrayal when Merlin had first told Arthur that he couldn't come…

Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on Merlin again just as Merlin replied, his voice so low that Arthur almost had to hold his breath to be able to hear the dark haired man's reply.

"Because I had to get my magic back."

Hm…

Yeah I think I'll leave it there like that…

R&R! :D