"To think I knew better. I was so arrogant..."

"You did know better. You were right," Merlin interrupted.

"How can you say that? My father is dead, killed by magic. It's all my fault." Guilt and sorrow were etched on Arthur's face as he drew a painful breath.

Merlin's felt his magic stir rebelliously within him. It was as if it sensed Uther's death and knew that now was the time for liberation. The battle to suppress it was draining his energy and he feared he couldn't keep it up much longer. He hesitated only for a moment before coming to a decision.

"You mustn't blame yourself. The king was dying anyway, Sire. The sorcerer did everything he could to save him. It didn't work, but I can assure you, it wasn't for lack of trying," he said softly.

The prince stared balefully at his servant. "What would you know about it anyway?"

Merlin gave a short laugh. "I know everything you could possibly imagine about it...and more."

The look changed to bewilderment and doubt. "What...?"

Merlin sighed. "I will explain it all to you," he said. "It's time I did. But not here. Let's go out."

"Out? What do you mean, out? The king lies dead, and you want me to go out?" Grief and rage brought Arthur's voice to the edge of hysteria. Before Merlin could reply, there was a knock on the door, and the prince was called away to the council meeting. "We'll continue this later, Merlin." His tone was ominous.

...

"I'm going to tell him, Gaius."

"Tell him what?"

"Everything."

Gaius whipped round, consternation growing on his face. "You can't. You couldn't have picked a worse time."

"Or a better one. Uther is dead. There is no longer any good reason for delaying."

"He will blame you for his father's death and be turned against magic for ever. He'll never forgive you. Is that what you want?"

"He will not do so, when I have explained it to him. I have more faith in him than that."

"He could have you executed," his guardian cried despairingly.

Merlin's lip curled. "Only if I choose to let him," he replied. "But don't worry, Gaius. I'm not in the mood to die today."

Gaius stared and seemed at a loss. Who was this stranger, so cool and detached? "So why are you coming to say goodbye?" he asked finally, eyebrow raised.

"He may no longer require my services. That will be his choice, but I'm not about to let him kill me, even if he would wish to. Apart from anything else, there is my mother to consider. She's had enough grief in her life already, thanks to the Pendragons. No one should see their child die before them."

Gaius could scarcely believe his ears. "So you would use magic against him, openly? That's treason, Merlin," he spluttered.

"It won't come to that. This is Arthur we're talking about. The Once and Future King. He can handle the truth. We're two sides of the same coin, remember? We share a great destiny." His eyes grew dark, and again he shuddered to contain the force within him. "There is nothing you can say which will deter me from my purpose. The time for lies is over," he said shortly and turned to go.

The elderly physician called after him. "Have you no compassion then? How will he cope with this betrayal on the day his father died?"

The warlock's eyes widened in shock, trembling as his emotions overwhelmed him. His magic burst forth like a torrent, and the ground began to shake beneath his feet. The window panes blew out and shattered, books tumbled off the shelves to the floor, and the vials of medicine rattled violently in their cases. Merlin gripped the edge of the table, as he fought to calm the storm. All grew still, but tears flowed freely down his cheeks. Through his blurred vision, he sought his guardian's eye.

"Betrayal?" he gasped, letting the question hang. "Do you remember what I was doing on the day my father died?"

Gaius rushed forward, stricken with remorse. "I'm so sorry, Merlin," he wept softly. "It's just I don't want to lose you, my boy." He embraced his ward tightly, clutching as if to never let go.

"I know," said Merlin soothingly. "I'm sorry too, Gaius, but I have to do this. I cannot wait. My magic cannot wait. You saw..."

"Indeed," said Gaius, casting a quick glance around the room. "Well, at least break it to him gently, won't you?"

"When am I less than sensitive and caring?" he replied with a watery grin, relieved that understanding had been restored between them. "And don't worry, I'll be back. Someone's got to clear up this mess," he winked at his guardian.

"Where are you taking him anyway? Why not just tell him here?"

"To the lake. I'll find it easier to tell him there." Seeing that Gaius still looked doubtful, he continued. "And besides, it's a very tranquil place. It comforts me when I go there to remember...loved ones. I hope it will do the same for him."

Gaius hugged him again, feeling as if his heart would break. Keeping any further misgivings to himself, he sent him on his way with a benediction.

...

They rode in silence. Arthur seemed relieved to be out of doors. He was thankful for the brief respite between the oppressive council meeting and the long, nightly vigil which lay ahead. Eventually, however, he found the servant's protracted silence irksome. When they dismounted to allow the horses to rest, he felt tired of waiting and decided to bring matters to a head.

"Well, come on then, Merlin," he prompted. "You have something you want to tell me. So what's this great secret? Out with it!"

Merlin was startled out of his reverie. He had been so certain that this was the right course of action, but now that it had come to it, he realized it wouldn't be easy. They hadn't reached their destination as he had hoped, but he could see that persuasion would not convince Arthur to wait any longer. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he began.

"I've wanted to tell you this many times, but I couldn't...until now. You've always had my loyalty, but to my shame, I've not been honest with you. I beg you will forgive my deception, Sire. I was in fear of my life." He paused, glancing at the prince to gauge his reaction.

The prince met his gaze evenly. "And I'm still none the wiser, Merlin," he replied.

"Aren't you, really? Can you not guess what I'm trying to tell you, the words I find so hard to say?" He shrugged a little, helplessly. "Sometimes I thought you knew my secret and kept quiet to protect me. Lately, I wasn't so sure. Perhaps it was easier for you to believe that I was a bumbling idiot, rather than...rather than..." His voice trailed off uncertainly.

The prince moved quickly and seized Merlin by the shoulders. He now had more than an inkling of what was coming and shook the servant mercilessly.

"Rather than what? Say it, damn you. I want to hear you say the words."

Merlin was possessed by an even greater fury, and he looked the prince directly in the eye. "...the most powerful warlock that ever lived," he responded in a grim, almost unrecognizable tone that shook Arthur to the core.

Arthur released him as if he were a burning coal and took a step backwards. They glared at each other, anger overcoming the guilt and shame that both felt deep within them. Knowing that what the servant said must be true, it was too painful to admit it. The realization of how oblivious he must have been, and the memories of how he had treated him were unbearable, so he took refuge in assumed incredulity and scorn.

"A sorcerer? Powerful? You!" he laughed. "Show me," he goaded him.

The derision was the final straw. His magic, shackled so long for fear of Uther, now threatened to explode, and he allowed it free rein. Countless snubs, insults, and humiliations to be avenged flashed through his mind. He would show this pampered prince once and for all what he could do, what he was truly made of. Revelling in the contemplation of absolute power, he looked about him for a means to demonstrate it.

His eye alighted on the ancient oak tree that stood so proud and tall. A notable local landmark, it bore witness to a thousand years of history. He considered it speculatively. Towering above them, a symbol of permanence and stability, its vaulting arches seemed to touch the heavens. It looked eternal, immovable, immutable. Merlin strode towards it, lifting his arm almost casually. His eyes glowed gold, and with a surge of energy, he snarled a single word. "Swilte." Time seemed to stand still, and he watched in fascination as the vibrant leaves began to brown and shrivel, the twigs and branches drooped and withered away, and the enormous trunk cracked and splintered, and crumbled finally to dust.

"Well?" he taunted the royal, but further words of exultation died on his lips. Arthur stood transfixed, his expression mingled fear, shock, and horror, as he stared disbelievingly at what remained of the mighty oak. Nothing.

Merlin began to hyperventilate, suddenly understanding what his moment of immature vainglory would cost him. Glimpsing the yawning chasm that had opened between them, he saw his shattered destiny and dreams turned to ashes. The bitterness was compounded by the knowledge that it was all his own fault. Gaius had been right all along. He had made such a mess of it. Weeping hopelessly, he waited for the blow to fall; and judgement was not long in coming. Arthur turned towards him, remote and magisterial. Granite-hard eyes bored into him, unforgiving.

"You are banished," he said coldly. "I never want to see you again."

Merlin gave a silent scream of agony and fell to his knees before collapsing and lying prostrate in the dust.

...

The sound of departing hooves roused him. Scrambling to his feet in panic, he called after the prince.

"No... Arthur, wait. Please. Come back. Arthur, please, come back."

Arthur's only response was to spur the horse on, leaving Merlin in utter misery. The shock of what had happened stunned him into immobility. While his body was frozen still, his mind was racing. How could I have got it so wrong, he asked himself. He'd meant to be calm and sympathetic, and instead he'd lost his head completely. He thought back to his defiant speech to Gaius and saw it for what it truly was. Empty words. He knew himself better now and admitted that there could be no life for him, no life worth living anyway, except at Arthur's side.

"Without you, there will be no Albion." The words resounded in his head, shaking him out of his self pity and reminding him that more was at stake than friendship and personal loss. He had to try again. One more chance, that was all he needed. One more chance to explain, to make things right between them. He owed it to the kingdom and to all those who had placed such faith and hope in him.

There was only one thing to be done. He must try to catch the prince before he left the forest. Arthur would take the road, but Merlin knew the woods like the back of his hand and was sure he could overtake him before he reached it. Completely disregarding the second horse as he felt he had no right to it; and not wishing to add to his offence by using magic, he ran. He raced through the trees, oblivious to the stray twigs and brambles which tore at his face, arms and clothes.

He reached the crossroads breathless and quivering, but as he turned the corner, he could see the royal in the distance, his cloak billowing behind him as he approached. Merlin felt his own heartbeat slam against his chest in rhythm with the thundering hooves. He shouted again, but Arthur continued to ignore him. It would soon be too late, and the prince would gallop past. The opportunity would be lost forever. In desperation and forgetting everything but the need to make Arthur stop, he threw himself in the path of the whirling hooves. He barely registered the piercing scream, the hollered curse, before darkness rushed up to claim him.

...

He came to himself slowly, conscious only of a throbbing pain in his head and entire body. He kept his eyes firmly shut, for fear of finding himself alone. Gradually becoming aware of movement around him, he dared at last to open them. The prince was leaning over him, the care and worry in his expression unmistakable. The relief was overwhelming that fate had granted his wish to explain and beg for pardon.

"Arthur...sorry, so sorry," he croaked.

"Don't talk now, Merlin. Rest."

"I must," he struggled on, gasping in pain. "I know I haven't got long. Forgive me for...showing off, but my magic...it's all for you, Arthur. It's only ever been for you. I was born to serve you. If you don't want me, I might as well be dead," he wept. "But please, when I am gone, look after my mother. I didn't want to leave her alone. And Gaius too. Promise?"

"You're not going to die, Merlin," he replied tenderly. "You've been stunned and injured, but you're not dying. We'll get you back to Gaius soon."

"I feel as if I'm dying."

"You knocked yourself out. The horse didn't even touch you. You were far luckier than you deserve."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't think what else to do. I just wanted another chance to talk to you."

"Well, immolating yourself at my feet was not the way to go about it. I would have forgiven you anyway, once the anger had passed. I know very well all you've done for me, and besides, I would have missed you. Where else would I find such an incompetent servant?" he quipped, in an attempt to introduce a lighter tone. Then, recalling the terror of the moment and how close they had both come to death, he fixed the warlock with a stern glare. "Really, Merlin. It was a stupid thing to do. With a lesser horseman..."

Merlin smiled weakly. "You saved my life then. Thank you." he whispered, before sliding back into oblivion.

The next time he woke up, he felt pleasantly warm and discovered that he was wrapped in Arthur's cloak. He saw also that Arthur had retrieved the second horse and that a fire was crackling merrily. The pain had subsided a little, and he attempted to sit up. Arthur was at his side instantly to help him.

"Here, drink this." Arthur passed him the water skin. He drank thirstily, not having realized how parched he was.

"Thank you," he said, handing it back. Their eyes met, and there was an awkward silence. They both felt the atmosphere of constraint because so much remained unsaid. Merlin felt it time to begin.

"Arthur, I can't apologise for who I am. I was born this way. I don't just have magic. I am magic. For a long time, I didn't know it's purpose...but now I do. The druids call me Emrys, and the prophets say that you and I will build Albion together. For years, I've been forced to hide in the shadows and fight for you with one hand tied behind my back. I wish for nothing more than to fight openly at your side, if you will allow it.

"You should never apologise for who you are, Merlin," the prince responded fiercely. " I wouldn't want you to change, and it will be an honour to have you fight at my side. But there are still..." Arthur stopped abruptly.

"...things you want to know?" the warlock queried.

"Yes, many, but I think we'll leave most of them for another day, when you are stronger."

Merlin was touched by this consideration but wanted to give Arthur the explanations he felt he was owed. "Ask whatever you like, and I will try to answer."

Arthur's first thoughts were of his father. "Do you know why the spell didn't work? What went wrong?"

"Yes. I'm afraid that..."

"Go on, Merlin. You promised to answer honestly."

"Morgana got there first," he said, his voice full of regret. "How did she know, Sire? Did you tell anyone that you were planning to cure the king with magic?"

Arthur thought for a moment and put his head in his hands. "No," he whispered. "It isn't possible!"

"Who?" Merlin asked, already certain that his suspicions would be confirmed.

"My uncle."

"I'm so sorry, Arthur."

"How could he do this to us? I can't believe it."

"It will be easy to confirm," Merlin replied with grim satisfaction. "We have the advantage of him now. Let's feed him false information and see whether he takes it to her. If he has betrayed you, Sire, leave him to me. It will be my pleasure to deal with him on your behalf." The prince glanced at his servant and glimpsed again the dark, unfathomable warlock he had witnessed earlier. He realized how formidable and dangerous an opponent Merlin could be, and he felt relieved that this time the anger was on his account and not directed at him.

"Very well." Arthur sighed heavily. "We'll talk more about it tomorrow, Merlin. I've had about as much as I can take for one day...Except for this, as it's on the same subject." Arthur sounded genuinely curious. " As you're such a powerful sorcerer, why didn't you try to heal my father yourself? Why did you call in someone else? Oh, of course, if he had lived, he would have discovered your secret," he said, answering his own question. He was surprised to see that Merlin had turned a peculiar shade of crimson, and the truth dawned on him.

"That was you!"

"Er yes, I'm sorry," he mumbled in acute embarrassment, unable to meet the prince's eye.

Mentally reviewing the details of their encounters, Arthur's colour also heightened, this time in anger. " If only the stocks were at hand, Merlin. It would give me such pleasure..."

Merlin looked up then. "It is your right, Sire," he replied. "If you desire it, I'll submit willingly. It seems a small price to pay for having my banishment repealed."

Arthur perceived that Merlin's compliance would remove his gratification in the matter. With blinding clarity, he saw the warlock as he truly was: kind, modest, humble and self-sacrificing; a miracle in someone with such superhuman power. He accepted that his out-of-character display earlier was the result of years of self-denial and frustration, added to numerous humiliations imposed by himself, and again he felt a burning sense of shame. Resolving never again to subject him to such demeaning treatment, he set about making amends.

"Ah, I'll let you off this time," he smiled. " Now Merlin, about this tree. What will people say?"

"Do you want me to put it back?"

"Can you?"

"Er yes, probably. Where would you like it to go?"

"What do you mean? In the same place as before, of course!"

"Are you sure? It might be fun to move it a little." He caught Arthur's eye, and they subsided into gales of laughter, finally dissolving the last of the tension between them.

They could have talked all night, but the sun would set soon, and they needed to hasten back before Sir Leon sent out a search party. Arthur helped Merlin to his feet. Merlin felt as if every bone in his body was broken, but he limped off stoically to restore the tree to its original position, using up his last reserves of energy in the process. On his return, it was clear he had something on his mind.

"So Arthur, friends?" he queried tentatively, extending his hand towards the prince. Sapphire and cobalt blue locked together. Arthur gripped his forearm before pulling him into a warm embrace.

" More than that, Merlin. Much more than that. Brothers. Now and always."

...

They were finally ready to leave, and Arthur eyed Merlin doubtfully, noting his enfeebled state.

"Can you manage to ride?" he asked with concern.

"I think so," the warlock replied, as he heaved himself painfully into the saddle. "It's a shame really. I do know a much faster way to travel."

Arthur quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yes? You'll be telling me you can fly next."

"In a manner of speaking," he replied, failing to suppress a grin. "Only to be used in an emergency. It offends the dragon's dignity when I use him as my horse."

He chuckled, waiting for this to sink in. He nudged the horse on and was already well out of the grove before he heard the inevitable response.

"Merlin!"