Hey, another Merlin ff. It's kinda taken over my life. Sequel to follow, called Found.

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT OWN.

Lost.

It was a dark, cold day. The little snow that was on the ground stood stark white against the blackened stones, seeming to be an analogy for the black and white views of the man positioned on the balcony. Uther Pendragon stood undecipherable and silent as the man before him was led up towards the platform. Hatred burned in Uther's eyes as the man was turned and tied to the post. His hands gripped the stone in front of him as the man's blindfold was ripped off, revealing startlingly deep blue eyes.

"Merlin of Ealdor, you have been accused of illegally practicing magic here in Camelot. The punishment required for such a crime is death. Do you have any last defenses?" the king proclaimed in a stiff and formal voice. Merlin gazed pityingly at his king, not regretting a moment of his life.

"You will learn, my lord, that there are more than just black and white colors in this world. Magic is only as evil as the person wielding it. A woman healing a child's broken leg or a man stopping a thrown knife do not fit in your black view. I tell you that you will never be able to destroy magic. It is this world's lifeblood, it is in every child, every soldier, every king. You may kill me, but you're fear and your hatred are only ever going to do you harm in the end." Merlin's voice was calm and clear. He wasn't afraid to die anymore. He had fulfilled his destiny. Arthur was ready to be king; he was well trained and many times more tolerant than his father.

King Uther glared at the young man before declaiming in a hard and cold tone. "You have been sentenced to be burned at the stake. May the gods have mercy on you, sorcerer," he practically spat the word, "because I will not. Light it!" He yelled to the guards standing around the base of the pyre with blazing torches. They moved solemnly forward and touched the fire to the waiting wood.

The pyre took to light instantly, the sticks around Merlin's feet disappeared fast as the fire hungrily devoured them. He stood there, calm and peaceful. His mask of peace slipped slightly, though, as a commotion started at a door beneath the balcony.

"MERLIN!" a voice roared over the crowd. Arthur struggled through the guards that were dragging him back towards the castle. His face was pale and drawn as he saw his best friend starting to burn. He punched and shoved wildly against the guards, he needed to put the fire out, he needed to save him!

"Arthur, go back. It's too late. You don't need to see this," Merlin whispered sadly, though to Arthur it was as loud as a battle cry. How could his father do this to the person who had saved the kingdom when no one else could. How could Merlin accept this so damn easily?

"You are not going to die, damn it! You did nothing wrong!" He screamed in frustration. "Let me go!" he yelled at the guards who almost had him back through the door. Suddenly all the commotion and yelling stopped. The prince looked at Merlin with shocked eyes. The guards pulled back immediately and Arthur dropped to his knees, grasping at his chest. Blood flowed freely over his fingers as the light in Arthur's eyes faded and he slumped over.

The crowd could only stare on in shock. No one moved, there was no sound apart from the roar of the fire and his heart faltering in Merlin's ears. The young warlock reached forward tentatively as far as his bonds would let him, reached for Arthur. When the man he had served for over two years did not move Merlin felt the panic inside him rise.

"ARTHUR!" he cried out in a voice so overwhelmed with terror and panic and power. The magic in Merlin surged forward and broke through his boundaries on them. His eyes burned gold and the fire that surrounded him went out in an instant, leaving only smoke to curl around him like idle panthers. The rope binding his arms disintegrated as he moved away from the wreckage. No one dared venture near him, they could see the power shine from him and feared to touch him.

He was at the fallen prince's side in less than a moment, gently rolling him over. Arthur's face was deathly pale, but by a miracle he was breathing shallowly. Merlin put a light finger on his master's neck and felt a very weak pulse. None of the guards ventured towards him, the king looked on unemotionally.

Merlin barely recognized Gaius, Gwen, and Morgana as they alighted around their fallen prince. The physician moved Arthur's hand lightly to reveal the deadly wound; a stab directly into the heart. Arthur gasped slightly and his chest shuddered. It fell and did not rise.

Merlin could vaguely hear Gwen comfort a sobbing Morgana while tears poured down her own face and the whispers now circulating through the crowd, but he couldn't register it. Couldn't acknowledge and process the fact that Arthur was dead.

Acting on instinct alone, Merlin gently placed his hand over the injury and started to say words he did not know. All he could think was heal. Live. The area around his hand started to glow as the warlock felt his power drain slowly through his arm. Almost imperceptibly, to small a movement for anyone other than him to sense, the skin beneath his hand began to move. It twisted and curled and melted together until there was no evidence of the wound that had killed Arthur except the blood now covering Merlin's hands. The prince's chest still did not rise.

"Merlin, let him go. He's already gone," Gaius pleaded to him. His pleas fell on deaf ears as Merlin thought of what was missing, the one component that would return the stolen breath to Arthur's lungs.

"Who am I without you?" he whispered to the truest friend he had ever had. He sighed and then became impossibly alert as the puzzle piece fell into place.

Merlin leaned over Arthur's face and studied it for a moment, gathering the last of his power. Slowly he lowered his head until his lips were almost pressed against Arthur's. Pulling his magic up, Merlin forced it out of his mouth in a breath. The Breath of Life. Merlin felt the power slide from him into Arthur, connecting them and binding them even more than before. The magic infused itself into the prince's heart, forcing it to work. Forcing it to jump and expand, to fall and then rise.

The first thing that moved upon the first breath was Arthur's eyes. They slowly slid open as the air flowed down into his now receptive lungs. They attached immediately to Merlin's and a deep feeling passed between them. A moment neither would be able to describe or relive. Not that they'd ever want to, this was too deep, too awe inspiring, too spiritual.

"You saved me," Arthur whispered, weakly lifting his hand to touch Merlin's cheek. Merlin turned into the touch and kissed the palm gently.

"Who am I without you, Arthur?"