Hi ho, I'm here again with another fic! :) This is something I was working before NaNoWriMo hit and I wanted to get it out of my brain so I can finish my sequel. So- this takes place near the beginning of The Diamond of the Day, pt. 2. I shamelessly borrowed a bit of dialog from that episode, but not so much after this first part. I meant this to be a one-shot, but it ballooned to 8,500 words, sooo it's a one-shot in 3 parts. Make sense? No? Well, I hope you'll read it anyway. I fix numerous plot holes in a crack-y, divergently AU manner (after the whole reveal bit). Enjoy! Oh, I don't own Merlin, though I enjoyed the lovely writing and acting of this episode.

The first thing Arthur noticed when he woke up was the crackling, popping and hissing of a fire. The second was the searing pain of a wound on the left side of his torso. And his third was a thought—where the hell am I?

Arthur opened his eyes and saw the fire in front of him, but could barely feel its warmth. Across the fire sat Merlin's familiar form; well, his back anyway. His heart leapt at the thought of being reunited with his- okay, he'd admit it -friend. Reunited? They'd been separated? But—why? He tried to remember the time before he woke up, but found only fuzzy, indistinct thoughts that hurt.

He decided to find out. "Merlin."

Merlin got up and walked over to him, a touch hesitant. "How are you feeling?"

Arthur tried to move into a sitting position, but the pain was too much to bear and he called out, "Ah, ah!" He grabbed Merlin's shoulder; at the contact his memories returned—Morgana and Mordred's attack, planning the battle at Camlann, Merlin running away, the night battle, the old sorcerer standing up for Camelot and turning the tide of the battle, the dragon, Mordred . . .

Merlin put a hand on Arthur's shoulder then grabbed his arm. "Lie back. Lie back."

Arthur came to himself and complied, but asked, "Where have you been?"

"It doesn't matter now." His face was full of sadness and regret.

Arthur pondered this for a moment before the pain overwhelmed him again. "Ah, my side . . . my side."

Merlin glanced at the wound. "You're bleeding."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Stating the obvious was one of Merlin's few talents. "That's all right. I thought I was dying."

Merlin appeared to ignore Arthur's attempt at humor. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd defied the prophecy." Arthur looked at him—what prophecy? "I thought I was in time."

In time for what? "What are you talking about?" Merlin wasn't normally cryptic.

"I defeated the Saxons. The dragon. And yet . . . And yet I knew it was Mordred that I must stop."

What the hell?! He hadn't even been there! Arthur patted Merlin on the shoulder. "The person who defeated them was the sorcerer."

"It was me." Merlin gripped Arthur's wrist as he started to cry.

He couldn't be serious. But why was he crying? They won and Gaius would heal him, no problem. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin." He looked back at his friend, who kept crying. "This is stupid, why would you say that?"

"I'm a . . ." Merlin started to say, but stopped because of how badly he was crying. After a few moments, he regained some control and pointed to himself. "I'm a sorcerer. I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you."

The King's mouth hung open for a solid minute before he finally shook his head and spoke. Was this a poor attempt at humor or comfort? "Merlin, you are not a sorcerer. I would know!"

Merlin gave him the oddest look, a mix of determination and resignation, and said, "Look. Here." Then he turned his head toward the fire and raised his hand. Arthur lifted his head in order to better see whatever it was. "Upastige draca!" came out of Merlin's mouth- were those real words? -and an animated dragon formed from the flames and flew upward. He looked back at Arthur.

Arthur wasn't quite sure what to do or say. Indeed, his mouth had once again fallen open. And to add to the comedic effect, his eyes looked to be popping out of his head.

Merlin waved a hand in front of the King's face. "Hello? Arthur?" He scooted a little closer to get in his face. "Arthur? Are you in there?" He whistled and waved both hands in front of his friend's face before putting them on Arthur's shoulders and lightly shaking him.

"Ow, what did you do that for?" Arthur shouted. Then he blinked at Merlin, who'd sat down again. "So you really are a sorcerer, huh? That's so fantastic!"

Merlin gaped a moment then shook his head. Arthur hadn't tried to kill him yet? "Technically, I'm a warlock."

"What's the difference?" He had had no idea there was a difference; his magical education was, understandably, lacking.

"A warlock is born with the ability to perform magic. A sorcerer has to study and practice in order to perform magic." I can't believe I'm sitting here, alive, discussing magic with Arthur!

"Dang, and all this time you've been following me around . . . me, the son of the man who kills people at the mere mention of the word 'magic.' Wow. But why did you stay with me?"

"At first it was because of the destiny I mentioned, because I had to. But then it was because you became my friend and I wanted to." He was finally telling the truth, and it felt great!

"Destiny? You have a destiny?" As if someone like Merlin would have a destiny. But then again, he had magic.

"I am to help the Once and Future King- that's you -unite all of Albion and return magic to its lands, bringing about a golden age of peace and prosperity."

"You sound like you've rehearsed that . . . wait, you've called me 'Once and Future King' before." He sounded surprised.

"Yes. And I have rehearsed that actually. Do you know how long I've waited to tell you about all this?"

"So the times you've said you've my life more times than you could count—you were telling the truth?"

"Definitely. It was at least once a week, and since we've known each other for almost ten years, that means . . ." He broke off to mumble to himself and count on his fingers. "Over five hundred times! No stinking wonder I'm so tired!"

"You're exaggerating," Arthur pouted. Then he coughed, which aggravated his wound. "Ah! AHH! I think you might have to do it one more time."

Merlin's face fell and he rushed back over to Arthur's side. "Of course I will. But I won't know what I need to do until Gaius gets here."

"Well, can you at least stop the bleeding or relieve the pain?"Merlin threw him a frustrated look. "Please?"

"Did you just say 'please'? To me? A mere servant?"

"Oh, pul-ease, Merlin," Arthur mocked, then turned serious. "Besides, you're not just a 'mere servant.' You're my friend. You have been, for a long time."

Merlin looked like he might cry again, but softly said, "Thank you, Arthur." He cleared his throat and went on. "Let's see what I can do for you right now." He thought for a long moment, then said, "Gebétee his bréostwærc."

Immediately Arthur felt his pain lessen significantly, though not completely. "Thanks again," he murmured.

"What was that Arthur? I couldn't quite hear you."

"Oh, you heard me just fine you idiot! You just want to rub my face in the fact that I'm rubbish at talking about feelings."

"Damn straight," Merlin agreed, and smiled his cheesiest grin at the King.

"Argh!" Arthur growled. He tried to shift to get more comfortable, and was able to do so with little pain. "So that was really you, with the storm and lightning, killing most of the Saxons. And Morgana's dragon . . . you must be so powerful!"

"You have no idea. And neither do I, to be honest."

Despite the lightened mood, Merlin was still quite worried for Arthur's life. He had his suspicions about Mordred's sword, but needed to confer with Gaius first. He kept up the banter to distract Arthur from the seriousness of the wound. And there was still the fact that the King had taken Merlin's confession so well. Maybe he'd been hit on the head sometime during the battle?

Just then, they heard multiple footsteps coming through the woods. Merlin jumped up and extended his hands defensively. Arthur tried to move, but the warlock whipped his head around and pinned him down with a look; no magic needed.

Merlin turned his head back to see figures moving toward him. He relaxed when he saw Gaius leading a horse toward his and Arthur's horses. "Gaius, it's good to see you."

"Any change?" the old physician asked.

"No. But I managed to ease his pain a bit."

"Let me see." Gaius went to Arthur's side to examine the wound.

Merlin followed his mentor and noticed the herbs that Gaius was carrying. "Is that all you got?"

"The hills are crawling with Saxons. I got comfrey."

"You should've got sticklewort. There must've been sticklewort."

Gaius could see Merlin was starting to panic, and whispered, "Merlin, you need to calm down. You don't want to upset him."

"All right." He took a few deep breaths. "You do realize he has no idea what we're talking about, right?"

Gaius blinked. "Oh yeah." He turned back to Arthur.

"Hey, Gaius, did you know? He's a sorcerer!" Arthur said. Gaius didn't say anything, but looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Arthur noticed the lack of surprise. "Oh, of course you knew." He chuckled.

"I knew the moment he walked in my door and saved my life." He turned to Merlin. "So you told him, huh?"

"Yes. What's the point of hiding it anymore, really?"

"I can't believe you're still alive! And he's taking it so well! Did he get hit on the head sometime during the battle?"

"That's what I thought, at first. But he's showing no signs of concussion."

"Hey, I'm right here you know!" Arthur interrupted. "So do I need a physician now? Or can Merlin heal me?" Merlin rolled his eyes as if to say, well yeah.

"He can do far more than me, far more than you can ever imagine. Arthur, he doesn't just have magic . . . there are those who say he's the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the earth."

"Merlin?!" From peasant servant to most powerful magician? My brain's cramping!

"Always with the tone of disbelief. Magic is my true talent, not juggling. Prat."

"Merlin," Gaius reprimanded, giving him The Eyebrow. He turned back to Arthur. "If you are to stand any chance of survival, you'll need Merlin to help you, not me."

Merlin looked at Arthur. He was obviously trying to process all this information. "Don't think too hard, My Lord. You'll need all your wits about you to keep going." Arthur glared at him, but Merlin didn't pay him any mind. He drew Gaius a little ways away. "Gaius? What is his injury, really? It's not healing like it should."

The physician frowned. "He has a fragment of sword embedded in his chest."

Merlin's expression lightened. "That's all? Then we'll use magic to draw to it out." He didn't understand why Gaius still looked worried.

"No, the blade that struck Arthur is no ordinary blade. I fear it was forged in a dragon's breath. Its fatal power will not be easily denied."

Merlin's face fell again. "Aithusa. I knew I should have ordered him to go back to Kilgharrah!"

"Merlin, focus. The blade's point is travelling inexorably towards his heart. Not even you could hope to thwart such magic. It would take a power as ancient as the dragons themselves."

"No. There must be something that we can do, Gaius." I'm not just going to give up.

"Only the Sidhe possess such magic. In the midst of the Lake of Avalon there is an ancient isle. That is the source of their power. You must take him there."

"How? It's at least a day's hard ride from here. And with him gravely injured, it'll take at least twice that." Unbeknownst to him, their voices had gotten louder and Arthur could hear them.

"Why don't you just call that dragon? It can probably fly fast enough," Arthur interjected. Merlin's and Gaius's heads whipped around so fast Arthur wanted to laugh, but didn't. It would probably hurt.

"What? . . When? . . How? . ." Merlin gasped.

"Oh, I've known since it attacked Camelot."

"But you were knocked out! How . . ."

"Leon told me. He woke up and saw you talking to the beast. We figured you were a dragonlord, but kept that to ourselves. I mean, you told it to leave and never come back. If being a dragonlord was evil, you would have just told it to keep going, right?"

"Yeah . . ."

"You saved us, so I saw no reason to tell my father." He paused a moment to think. "But if you were a dragonlord, why didn't you stop it when it first started to attack?"

He sounded so hurt. "Because I wasn't a dragonlord then. Not until my father, Balinor, died. The son doesn't inherit the power until his father dies."

Oh my . . . "And I told you he wasn't worth your tears. I really am an ass."

"You didn't know. You couldn't have. And I forgave you for that a long time ago. Besides, I just saw him yesterday." He smiled.

Arthur opened his mouth to ask about that, but Gaius cut him off. "Anyway, you cannot travel tonight. Both of you need some rest."

The King pointed at Merlin. "You're not off the hook. You will explain that last statement to me. Along with everything else you did that I know nothing about."

Merlin bowed lavishly. "As you wish, Sire." Arthur glowered.

Gaius laid out two bedrolls while Merlin mashed up the comfrey and applied it to Arthur's wound. He placed a bandage over it, then drew a blanket over his King. Gaius handed him a pillow, which he turned to place behind Arthur's head. Arthur reached his good hand to Merlin's shoulder. "Thank you. Really," he said.

"Anytime. Now rest. I don't want to have to put a sleeping spell on you." He smiled while the King gave a brief chuckle.

Merlin sat on his bedroll and watched Arthur until the King fell asleep. Then he turned to Gaius, who was resting on the other bedroll. He quietly asked, "How long does he have?"

"At best, two days," Gaius replied. "But don't lose hope Merlin. If anyone can get him there safely, you can."

"I know. And I won't. Besides, Kilgharrah does fly pretty fast."

"Goodnight Merlin."

"Goodnight Gaius."

Part 2, coming up!