A/N: Thanks again to all who have reviewed! It really does mean a lot, and not to mention (though I am mentioning it), they always tend to make my day better! There will be one more chapter and this story will be concluded. I may write some more Dark Merlin; a Dark Merlin that isn't cause by possession… more along the lines of an evil Merlin…? I don't know, so tell me what you think! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: Merlin is not mine, nor any of the characters mentioned in here. It's a sad truth, wouldn't you agree?

Previously, On Merlin…

The pain was so intense, he didn't even notice when he cried out in agony, nor the figure of a blond prince standing at the very end of the staircase, watching with intensity as a blue smoke exited through Merlin's open mouth.

Merlin dropped hard on his knees, exhausted and out of breath. He gasped and held his chest, checking to make sure his heart still had a beat. Looking up, he saw, just in time, the blue smoke turn in midair and shoot straight through the floor, hopefully heading back to join the rest of Sigan's soul.

Instantly, his eyes narrowed; another wave of darkness passing through him. Except, this time it was Merlin who had full control over his emotions. He sensed something; something powerful. The magic was close, almost overbearing his brain. And then…

"Merlin," a voice shouted. The warlock looked up to see the prince of Camelot unlocking the cell door with ease. "What the hell was that?" he barked, outstretching his arms dramatically. Merlin cocked his head to the side. Arthur rolled his blue eyes. "I can't believe I'm concerned for you after you tried to kill me," Merlin was about to protest when Arthur raised a hand to silence him, "but what was that coming out of your…?" He could not bring himself to say it.

Merlin looked as sorry as Merlin ever could have looked; shrugged shoulders, eyes on the floor, hands tied tightly behind his back. It was a tear jerking scene, one that if Gwen had walked down right at that particular moment in time, she would have been on the floor with watery eyes.

"Arthur, it's not wha-" but he was cut off by the prince who shot him with a glare full of hatred.

"Don't bother speaking if it's not the truth, Merlin." Taken by shock, the warlock closed his mouth, having thought out a story worthy of praise. Nodding, Arthur said, "That's what I thought." He was about to walk away, then turned back to look at the trapped Merlin. With his head slightly hung towards the floor and not daring to make eye contact, he gave his last words to his best friend. "I shall see you in the morning… for the last time," Arthur added to himself.

Merlin shut his eyes tight, his attention split between the power he was sensing and Arthur's emotionless farewell. Could he really hate him so? After everything they've done? After everything they've been through?

"Merlin, Merlin," a voice echoed, and for a moment Merlin thought Arthur had returned. "You've been foolish, Merlin," the Great Dragon scolded. "You were careless in your actions." Merlin groaned. He did not need to be scolded by a dragon who could talk. "I have warned you about getting exposed, Merlin," he went on. Merlin couldn't help thinking, 'Just because you can talk, doesn't mean you can have bragging rights.' Quickly, he blocked the dragon from his head; he definitely was not in the mood.

Wasting away the rest of the night in a dingy cell, Merlin was half relieved and half terrified to see the sun coming up through the tiny window and shining brightly on his pale, color-drained face. So badly, he wished for Arthur to come back down just to talk, but the only reason the prince would come down there again was to drag the young warlock off to seal his fate.

And, speak of the devil, down the dungeon stairs, towards his cell came Arthur along with two big, heavy guards at his side. Merlin looked up lazily at the prince. Arthur stared at him through his blond bangs before slowly unlocking the door and gesturing for the guards to take him away.

Just as the guards were about to drag a nonresistant Merlin up the stone staircase, Arthur called, "Wait," The two men stopped and Merlin looked up anxiously. He waved the guards off of the warlock. "Go report to my father that I'll bring the sorcerer to the courtyard."

"Yes, sire," the both said simultaneously and bowed, leaving the two former friends alone.

Merlin massaged his sore wrists which had become raw and chafed from the rotting metal shackles. "Thank you, Arthur," he said sincerely.

"Don't thank me yet," he countered harshly. "I just wanted to tell you," Arthur paused for a moment, taking Merlin by the arms and began leading him to the pyre. They were almost in the courtyard before Arthur continued. "Even though it was a lie for you, it wasn't for me. You were a good friend, Merlin. I'm sorry you betrayed me. You're just like them; nothing but a sorcerer…"

Merlin knew it would do no good to argue with Arthur. "Warlock," he corrected quietly as everyone watched as he was lead to the burn pile.

"What?"

Smiling ever so, Merlin repeated. "I'm a warlock, Arthur, not a sorcerer."

Arthur shook his head, wanting to laugh if not for the situation. "Always so stubborn, Merlin,"

"To the end," he replied. Now, standing tied to the pyre in front of the whole of Camelot, Merlin could feel his magic building up, boiling through his blood. In his mind, there were so many things he wanted to clear up. Well, what can I say? I was possessed, literally! I'm not evil, just maybe an idiot… some of the time.

Arthur stood back amongst the watching townsfolk, observing their expressions. Everyone had known the clumsy oaf who was Arthur's loyal servant; watched him day after day, going home every night with an armful of his armor. The same man whose smile could either annoy you, or make you smile back along with a laugh or two. He glanced at Gwen. Her hands were over her mouth and tears streaming down her eyes. Merlin looked over at her apologetically and the maid buried her face in Gaius' shoulder. Looking at the old man's eyes, Arthur felt pity for him. Merlin was like a son to the physician, and he, Arthur, had taken that only child away from him.

Morgana was standing in the shadows, glaring intently at Uther's balcony. She was angry, though there was nothing unusual there. Then, she turned her piercing green eyes at Arthur, shaking her head.

Suddenly, there was a voice in his head. That was impossible! Surely he was not going mental. He was the prince, after all. Going mental was always Merlin's job… Wait! Merlin…

"Well, what can I say? I was possessed, literally! I'm not evil, just maybe an idiot… some of the time."

Unknowingly, Arthur laughed out loud. Could the voice be real, or his imagination?

"Do you have any final words, sorcerer?" Uther boomed from his intimidating position high on the castle. Arthur snapped out of his insanity instantly.

Looking up from the pyre as to where he was tied, Merlin glanced at Arthur through the blaring sun. "Hey, dollop head, I'm not running late this time!" he called with a slight grin. "Then again, you did have to escort me here, right? So, I suppose that won't count."

The king rolled his eyes, aggravated. "Will that be all?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, oh, wait! Sorry, I didn't have a chance to polish your helmet. I guess you'll have to get some bootlicker to do it, eh, Arthur?" Merlin called. There was a small murmur of chuckles echoing through the crowd of cheerless onlookers. If this was his day to die, he may as well go out proud; go out being the same old Merlin that everyone had come to love.

"I have had enough!" Uther barked, silencing the already quiet Merlin. He had nothing more to say. Merlin's beard, kings have been waited on too much; they're so impatient. Hold up, he didn't have a beard. Oh well, nothing is too weird to think when you're about to die at the hands of the very family as to whom you protected. "People of Camelot," Uther began his infamous speech that the 'people of Camelot' have heard many-a-time. "This man, Merlin, has been found guilty of using enchantments and magic."

"Technically, they're the same thing," Merlin said before he could stop himself. "Sorry," he muttered just as the king was about to reprimand him.

'You always have to open you're big mouth, don't you?' Arthur thought with his arms folded.

"For the crime of using such a thing, there is one sentence that is true justice. Let the burning of this sorcerer be set as an example to all of those who practice magic, once again showing them that there is no room for magic in my kingdom," Uther continued.

Arthur almost had the urge to say back to his father, 'Warlock, not sorcerer,' almost…

Merlin held in a laugh. If Uther wanted evil, he could definitely give it to him. But if saving him and his son's life was considered evil then Merlin had to be the devil!

Glaring at the sorcerer on the pyre, Uther nodded once at the executioner who held the branch that was set ablaze, its flames eager to lick at the pile wood just inches from its white-hot lips.

At the last possible minute, on pure impulse, Arthur's mental debate came to a dramatic end.

"Just a moment,"

A/N: A bit of a longer chapter this time. I hope this was to your pleasing! Reviews are accepted, of course, and very appreciated! Cookies and hugs for all! One more chapter to go… The end is near!