The plot is really starting to pick up now!

For those of you that wanted to know about the title, I had narrowed it down to Contrary to Popular Belief or Best-Laid Plans but I wanted to tie it to the previous fic so using the word contrary seemed like a good way to do it. I really like the phrase because it implies that there is a commonly accepted idea that is false and several of those occur in the story (Morgana is not dead, Merlin has magic, etc.) Hope this answers your questions!

Enjoy the chapter :)


When Merlin saw the man fall he knew he had to help, he might not be the best physician in the world but he'd picked up a few things after living with Gaius for so many years and he had to try. He leapt from his horse and rushed to the man's side to find the wound, he needed to stop the bleeding immediately or the man would die.

As he rolled the man onto his back a slight sense of familiarity niggled at the back of his mind, he had seen this man before, but he pushed it away, choosing to focus instead on the task at hand. There was an alarming amount of blood covering the man's hands and staining his shirt but, try as he might, Merlin couldn't find the source.

The servant sat back on his heels in confusion, the sheer volume of blood suggested a fairly large wound but the man appeared to be untouched. Merlin leaned forward to examine him again, in more detail this time, but started when a cynical chuckle filled his mind.

"Hello Emrys." The man said, opening his eyes and lunging towards the servant.

"Mordred!" Merlin answered in surprise, the boy had grown significantly since he'd been trapped in Camelot and was hardly recognizable but there was no denying that voice. The druid boy was the only person Merlin knew, besides the Great Dragon, who had ever used telepathy to communicate with him.

"What-" he began but the rest of the question was lost in a gasp as a sharp, burning pain radiated up his side. He glanced down, blinking dazedly as he tried to understand what had just happened. There was something wet and warm running down his leg and he stared in shock at the dagger embedded in his flesh just above the hip.

"What… are you doing?" he finally managed to force out, gasping for air as he tried to wrestle the pain into submission.

"Taking my revenge." Mordred hissed, a maniacal gleam lighting his eyes as he leered at the servant.

"Revenge for what?!" Merlin exclaimed, crying out as Mordred twisted the dagger deeper, burying it to the hilt in his side.

"You know." Mordred answered cryptically.

"No," Merlin gasped, barely able to keep his eyes open through the pain, "I've done nothing but help you, you never would have escaped Camelot without me!"

He was starting to feel dizzy now, the blood pouring down his side at a frightening pace, he knew he needed to put pressure on the wound but it was all he could do to concentrate on Mordred's voice and, for some reason, it seemed imperative that he understand the reasoning behind the boy's attack.

"But you didn't want to help did you?" Mordred sneered maliciously, "Where were you when we needed you? You were lying in your bed, ignoring my pleas for help!"

"How do you…" Merlin began, staring at Mordred in disbelief, then, changing his mind, he tried again. "I did help, I didn't leave you there, I came!"

"It doesn't matter." Mordred whispered, leaning closer to the servant and twisting the dagger again. "You would have left me, a fellow magic user, to die and for that I will never forgive you!"

"I'm sorry!" Merlin cried, collapsing bonelessly to the ground as Mordred removed the dagger with a squelch. "I'm sorry." He said again, this time in a whisper, before his eyes slid closed and the breath rushed from his body.

"MERLIN!" Arthur's anguished cry startled the birds from the surrounding trees and they took flight, cawing loudly in alarm.

He had been frozen in place, rooted to the spot in shock as the stranger that Merlin had tried to help stabbed the idiot in the side. This wasn't supposed to happen; Merlin never got hurt, the trip was supposed to be fun! His mind revolted, throwing up barriers to protect him from the information his eyes were sending but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't deny the awful truth, how horribly wrong things had turned in a matter of seconds.

How was it even possible that just a few minutes ago Merlin had been bantering back and forth with Arthur as they made their way back to Camelot and now, now he was gasping for breath, impaled on that stranger's knife. And the blood, there was so much blood, streaming down the boy's side and splattering noisily onto the grass below; that wasn't good, no one could lose that much blood and live.

Arthur was jerked roughly back to reality as the man twisted the dagger viciously, ripping a cry of pain from Merlin's throat.

"STOP!" Arthur commanded, surging towards the pair but he barely made it two feet before he crashed into something and fell to the ground dazed. Shaking it off he charged forward but was again stopped by the invisible barrier. Cursing in frustration he drew his sword and began hacking at the air in front of him; each blow produced a shower of blue sparks, but the wall held, showing no signs of weakening.

Arthur could see Merlin and the stranger having some sort of conversation but their words were drowned out by his frantic shouts. He grew increasingly more hysterical with each moment that passed; he needed to get to his servant, needed to save him from that evil man! The stupid invisible wall would give eventually, he thought, renewing his efforts to break through the barrier even as a small voice in the back of his mind whispered that even if he did manage to get through it would be far too late to save the boy.

"NO! MERLIN!" He shouted, watching helplessly as the man pulled the dagger out. Time seemed to slow as his servant slumped to the ground, hands clutching ineffectually at the wound even as his eyes closed and his head lolled to the side. He needed to get to Merlin now! He had to make sure his servant would be okay but he was too far away, too far away to tell if Merlin was still breathing, if his heart was still beating, if he was still alive.

Dropping the sword he pounded the barrier with his fists instead, smashing them against it until his knuckles bled because Merlin was not okay, he was pale, too pale. And the blood! There was so much blood and it was all over everything. This wasn't right, no, Merlin was not supposed to be lying there so still, he was supposed to be bumbling around tripping over things and annoying the living daylights out of Arthur. He was not supposed to be so pale and the blood, Arthur couldn't get over how much blood there was; it seemed impossible that the human body even contained that much blood!

It wasn't as if Arthur had never seen blood before, he had, loads of times. Accidents happened almost every day in training and he'd been to see Gaius with some kind of injury more times than he could count but this was different, this was Merlin. Merlin the idiot, Merlin his friend! Merlin who always went into battle at Arthur's side and never failed to come out alive, Merlin who called him a prat and wasn't afraid to speak his mind to the king. Merlin couldn't be lying there bleeding out in the middle of the woods because… well because he was Merlin!

Eventually realizing the futility of his struggle, Arthur dropped against the wall in defeat, sliding down to sit on the ground with his knees curled to his chest. He had failed, failed Merlin, failed himself, failed everything! He was supposed to protect the boy, he was the warrior, the fighter and he had been able to do nothing but watch in horror as events unfolded.

Helplessness was not something he was used to feeling and it was increasingly difficult to deal with. This was his fault! He should have been the one to help the man, not Merlin. He could have at least gone to the stranger's side with his servant, been there to defend him instead of leaving him completely unprotected, open and vulnerable to attack.

He punched the ground, blinking to clear his vision, which had suddenly gone fuzzy. He swept a hand across his face, leaving a streak of mud behind as he wiped away the… tears? No, it couldn't be tears, he didn't cry, he was the king of Camelot for goodness sake! Crying was something that girls and babies did, not full grown men, and certainly not him.

He was trying to hold himself together but he could feel his world collapsing, flying further apart with every second. He never wanted this, never imagined a world without Merlin, it had never occurred to him that Merlin wouldn't be at his side for the rest of his life.

Roaring in anger, Arthur sprung to his feet, beating against the wall with renewed vigor; he was not a quitter, he wouldn't give up, not on Merlin, not until that man was dead and Arthur had his faithful servant back at his side again. Looking up, Arthur stopped mid-swing and stared in shock at the empty clearing. Merlin was gone. The blood was still there, staining the grass bright red and the dagger gleamed in the sunlight from where it had been discarded, partially hidden behind a rock, but his servant was gone and so was the stranger.

Arthur backed up a few steps and ran towards the barrier, lowering his shoulder and bracing for the impact but it never came; instead of bouncing off the wall like he'd done before he stumbled forward, struggling to keep his balance as the momentum caught up with him. He turned back in confusion, holding his arms in front of him like a blind man, searching for the force that had contained him but it had vanished, just like Merlin.

Turning around again he dropped to his knees beside the bloodstained grass that was all that remained of his servant. The backs of his eyes started to burn and his sight blurred again but this time he didn't even try to deny the tears or hold them back, Merlin was gone and he had no idea where to begin looking for the servant, or even if his friend still lived.

He didn't think he would be able to return to Camelot and break the news. Gwaine would hate him for not being able to protect the boy and Gaius would be heartbroken, Merlin was like a son to him. But Gwen? Gwen would be the worst, she would never forgive him. Sure he was her husband but Merlin was special, he had been her friend since his first day in Camelot and he would always hold a piece of her heart.

Arthur got up and stomped around the clearing smashing his fists into trees as he went but he hardly felt the pain, nothing could take away the grief he felt over losing Merlin. He'd known the servant was important to him but he'd never imagined that it would hurt this much when he was gone. It was like a yawning chasm had been ripped open in his soul, exposing every emotion that he'd been taught to hide his entire life.

Arthur didn't know what to do, he was at a complete loss; where could he go from here, what more could he do? Sobbing at the helplessness of the situation he curled his hands into fists and pounded his thighs, releasing his frustration and grief into the sky with a guttural scream.

"MERLIN!"


This is not a death fic, I promise so please review and don't kill me!