Author's Note: This takes place during the finale... Let's just say I was given no choice but to write my own alternate ending to the one which the writers provided; I was... emotionally compromised by their choices, and needed some solace in these trying times.

"I want to say something–I've never said before–" Arthur's words were laced with tension, as Merlin could see only too easily; the wound, Merlin knew, was definitely not getting any better. Well, that was an understatement; more accurately, Arthur was close to death. Closer than he had ever been before, and that was saying something.

"Shh, don't speak," Merlin interrupted his friend, his closest friend, before he could continue. Arthur, ignoring the interruption as he had ignored most of Merlin's attempts to save his strength during the time since the battle, finished his sentence with a great deal of effort.

"–thank you. For all that you've done for– for Camelot, and–" Arthur had to stop as he choked on a sudden lack of oxygen. He knew his moments were numbered; perhaps Merlin in his idiocy refused to admit that Arthur would die, but Arthur himself knew better. He was on his deathbed, and the sooner Merlin let him speak, the sooner he could die in peace. "And for– for me– and the kingdom that you have helped me to build."

"You would have done it without me."

"Maybe." Arthur smiled wryly, almost forgetting his pain. Merlin had always been there for him, and he knew that he definitely wouldn't be the same person had Merlin not been there to make him see sense and understand the reality of strange situations… Merlin might think that he wasn't necessary for the future of Camelot, but he was much more than just a servant. Not that Arthur didn't take advantage of the ability to threaten Merlin with the stocks if he didn't listen, but that was just a pretense, really, and they both knew it.

"Arthur!" Merlin's shout startled his eyes open again. "Don't–I can't lose you. I won't." Arthur rested his gaze on the man who had changed him so much, and he smiled grimly.

"Let me go. It's too late, Merlin. Let it go." Merlin shook his head, and Arthur saw his eyes flash gold momentarily. What had he done now? Then, as Arthur's eyes started to close again, he discovered that his eyes wouldn't close. "Merlin!"

"I told you, I won't lose you." Arthur saw the resolve building in Merlin's eyes, and as he tried to shake his head, Merlin stopped him with a gentle but firm hand on his forehead. "You're too important, Arthur. Camelot will not survive without you," he continued, his eyes burning not with magic but with a belief as strong as magic itself. "And I will not let Camelot fall."

"What… are you doing…" Arthur's voice was weakening even more, he could hear it fading more and more rapidly.

"Don't speak, Arthur."

"Since when… have I listened to you… I'm the king…"

"That doesn't stop me from telling you what to do, Arthur, you know that." Merlin shook his head, smiling through his tears. Arthur tried once again to close his eyes, even knowing that he might never open them again. Due to Merlin's spell, he failed, as his friend gave him a look. "And you know that you do listen to me, so I'm telling you now: don't give in."

"Just let– let me go," Arthur sighed, frowning. "It's over, Merlin."

"That was an order." Merlin's eyes glinted dangerously, and Arthur was almost frightened, although not for his own safety. Now that he knew that Merlin had magic – although he still couldn't believe it; Merlin of all people– he could see that all those lies had only barely managed to cover up the extent of Merlin's power. Before Arthur could respond to Merlin's words, however, he saw the other man throw his head back, and roar out to the heavens above, "O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"

"What– what was – that?" Arthur stammered out, confused but still so very tired. He just wanted to close his eyes, and he could feel the pain in his chest moving closer to his heart by the minute. But what was Merlin speaking? His voice had been so different, almost unhuman.

"Dragontongue," Merlin answered, his expression changing as he remembered who was watching him. His face seemed to quiver, as he tried to determine how much he could tell his friend and king.

"Where," Arthur muttered, "did you learn that…" The edges of Merlin's mouth twitched in response.

"From an old friend." Before Arthur could respond, he heard a rush of air, and saw the few trees in his line of vision whip about as if a hurricane had suddenly come to the clearing. "My friend, you know I would not have called you had there been – any other way," Merlin called, his voice faltering only once. He stood shakily, gently lowering Arthur's head onto the soft grass, to face what Arthur then knew must have been the Great Dragon.

"Young warlock, some follow their destinies, others have their path laid out for them from the beginning of time itself. It is Arthur's time, Merlin. Let him go." Kilgharrah's voice was weary, but Arthur could tell that his words were thought out much in advance. The dragon was telling the truth, and Arthur agreed, although he could not speak loudly enough to voice his agreement.

"He's my– friend," Merlin choked, his eyes burning with sorrow and rage. "I can't lose him."

"You can and you must, young warlock. But Arthur is not just a king, he is the Once and Future King; when Albion needs him most, he will return to save his people once again." The Once and Future King? Arthur had heard those words before, and suddenly everything seemed to fit. Deep in his childhood, Gaius had once spoken of a king who would unite the Five Kingdoms to become the greatest ruler of all time, and the wise advisor who ruled by his side. In those days, Gaius had described this legendary duo as a myth, a prophecy which might one day come true under the right circumstances, but young Arthur had seen the belief shining in the old physician's eyes, and it had been apparent even then that this myth would one day be a reality. Arthur hated to imagine himself as a legendary ruler, but he could see in an instant that that might be the reason for Merlin's undying faith in him. Perhaps he was the king of prophecy; after all, dragons didn't lie, did they?

"I have failed, Kilgharrah. I've failed him." Merlin interrupted Arthur's thoughts, and he looked up as best as he could, to see his friend toying with a small ring on his finger, the tears replaced by a grim resolve. "I can't let this happen."

"Young warlock, what is it that you intend to do?" Kilgharrah's rumbling tones startled Arthur, as he had been attempting to close his eyes yet again.

"He will not die," Merlin whispered. "I will do whatever it takes, but he will not die."

"I ask again, young warlock: what will you do?"

"He must not die." Merlin whispered again, mostly to himself. Arthur wished he could assure him that that was not true, that he deserved to die after all he had done, but his voice refused to cooperate. He took a deep breath, then shuddered and stiffened as he felt something stir directly under his heart. He couldn't help the sudden whimper that escaped him. "Arthur, no!" He hadn't noticed that Merlin was watching him, but he must have been monitoring his every movement, for when Arthur made that small noise of discomfort, Merlin cried out as well. "Kilgharrah–" Merlin seemed reluctant to finish. "I have one last favor to ask."

"What is it, young warlock?"

"Take us to Avalon."

"You know he will not survive the journey," the dragon sighed, gesturing with a tired claw to the young king.

"Kilgharrah… I ask you this knowing the consequences. You know I would not have summoned you had there not been great necessity." Merlin's eyes glinted again, and Arthur through his opened eyes could see the resolve harden inside the man he regarded as his closest and most loyal friend. Yes, Merlin had lied, but it had been with good reason; Arthur could see that now. He struggled to raise his head, and spoke cautiously to his friend.

"Merlin…"

"Arthur– how – how much… did Gaius tell you?"

"The dragon."

"He told you of him?"

"Yes, Merlin." Arthur's words were faint, but Merlin could hear the smile in his voice.

"Then, let us go." With those words, Merlin glanced at Kilgharrah. The dragon sighed, but inclined his head, respecting the Dragonlord's final request of him. "One last time, Kilgharrah?"

"Young warlock, let us fly together for the last time… I will miss you." Merlin clenched his jaw tightly before releasing it with a sigh.

"And I you." At last, Merlin stepped away from Arthur, his eyes glinting as he whispered, "Áreccep." Arthur's eyes widened as he felt the ground beneath him disappear and his body twist to a sitting position. He could see the land beneath him, and Merlin standing ten feet beneath him, maneuvering Arthur onto the dragon's back.