A/N Please let me know if I need to up the rating, there is a bit of Merlin!hurt here. And yes, I am extremely paranoid.

Arthur dreamt of a black dog. It had long, dark fur and golden eyes. Everywhere he went, it followed him.

"Go away."

The dog stared at him defiantly. Arthur tried to shoo it away, but it leapt nimbly around him and did not leave. The king looked into the dog's deep gold eyes; in them he saw unwavering loyalty and bravery, intelligence and selflessness.

"I will never leave you, Arthur," said the dog. "You will never be alone." The dog stood at his side, protecting him, and Arthur let it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth," the dog said.

"Don't you trust me?" Arthur asked, hurt.

"Lying to you was the best way to protect you. I wish I could have told you the truth, but it was best that way."

Arthur smiled; he forgave the dog. There was something familiar about it, something he trusted, but he couldn't put his finger on it; there was something he was missing. What was it?

The dog looked at him sadly, as though it knew a secret that was heavier than a thousand burdens, but could never be shared.

"Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur opened his eyes. The room was dark; it was still night. Getting up, the king pulled on his clothes (he wasn't completely incompetent) and his sword belt (always prepared). He made his way through the silent citadel to the royal kennels, where he kept his hunting dogs.

Thankfully, he wasn't greeted by the usually barking frenzy, as that would have woken the whole castle. Most of the dogs were asleep; only a few cocked an ear and whined halfheartedly. Arthur made his way along the line of canines. Brown, brown, black with brown eyes, brown… none matched the dog from his dream. The king sighed and sat down next to his favourite hound, a brown-and-black purebred called Storm, to ponder what his dream could have meant. Off topic, he wondered how the search parties he had sent out to look for Merlin were doing. Tomorrow he would lead one, he would… he would…

Before he knew it, Arthur was asleep.

oOo

"NO! It's not possible!" Morgana screamed, her magic reacting to her rage and sending pulses of power across the ruin, demolishing it.

"I am Emrys!" Merlin yelled over the noise. "I always have been! It is my destiny to protect Arthur, to help him unite the land of Albion!" The words were flowing from his mouth now; he could not stop them. "I am the greatest warlock to ever walk the earth, and do you know why, Morgana? Because I am Emrys!"

"You can't be! It's not true, it isn't true!" The witch sobbed like a child. "It's not true!"

"I can only speak the truth, and you know it, Morgana."

"But… but this is good," she gasped. "This is wonderful!" She started laughing hysterically. "The mighty Emrys, my prisoner! Oh, Merlin, how Arthur will mourn the loss of his pet sorcerer! But… he doesn't know, does he? He can't! How you have managed to deceive him, Emrys!"

"Morgana―"

Something struck his head and he was engulfed in blackness.

oOo

"Sire? What… what are you doing?" A confused voice woke him. Arthur sat up stiffly and rubbed the back of his neck. He'd fallen asleep in the royal kennels… whoops.

"Um…" he said, looking up at the inquiring servant. "It does not concern you. Attend to your duties. And not a word of this to anyone," he groaned, thinking of the rumours that could spread from this incident.

"Y-yes, sire," the servant stuttered, and bolted. Arthur stood and brushed down his clothing, remembering his dream. He had no dogs like that; why had it entered the realm of his sleep? Nevermind, he thought to himself, It doesn't matter. Looking outside, he gave a start when he noticed how high the sun was. If he was going to lead a search party for Merlin, he'd better go now.

A few minutes later, he was astride his horse, leading his knights through the forest of Ascetir. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and everything was horrible. For what world was it without Merlin? His goofy smile, his way of seeing the good in everyone, and overall, his incredible loyalty; he was like a dog that way―

A scream shattered the quiet forest air. A terrifyingly familiar scream. Arthur spurred his horse onward and yelled for his knight to follow him, and then he was off; riding through the woods at a speed unmatched by any of his knights. Soon his far ahead of them all, and ahead he could see a ruin of some sort. He heard voices echoing as well, and he knew who they belonged to.

"A quick death is far too good for you, Emrys. I want you to die knowing that Arthur is as good as dead without you at his side, and I shall rule Camelot. I want you to die in the knowledge that there was nothing you could do to stop me."

"M-Morgana…"

"Silence! How the mighty have fallen, Emrys. If only Arthur could see you now…"

With that, Arthur's horse leapt over a crumbling wall and landed centimetres in front of Morgana. She screamed and was gone before Arthur could do more than dismount and draw his sword. He sheathed his weapon again and turned to Merlin.

He was in a bad way. There were no visible injuries that Arthur could see, but who knew what the witch had done on the inside. The servant was lying nearly unconscious on the ground, his hands bound to a metal ring in the floor, though there was hardly need of that now. The man could barely speak.

Arthur lifted Merlin in his arms and began the short walk to where he had left his horse. As he lifted the lithe form of his servant, Arthur heard two words whispered in his ear, so softly that he could barely hear them:

"I'm sorry."

By the time the other knights arrived, Merlin was unconscious once more.

oOo

"What happened?" Gwaine asked, in a serious voice that was rarely heard from the usually jovial knight.

"Morgana," Arthur replied. "I don't know what she did; there isn't a mark on him, save for a superficial cut on his hand."

Gwaine insisted that he ride with Merlin himself, all the way home, but Elyan convinced him that it would be better for them to take it in turns. Gwaine took him first, then Elyan, then Percival, then Leon, then Arthur himself. As they rode through the great gates of Camelot, Arthur tried to reassure himself that Gaius would find a way to heal Merlin. He always had before.

"Sire― what's happened?" said the physician's voice. Arthur dismounted and carried the servant over to his mentor. Merlin seemed heavier than before, and Arthur tried desperately not to think about how dead people weighed more than people who were alive.

"Morgana," he said, and Gaius nodded his understanding. They both knew what that meant. As they rushed to the physician's chambers, Arthur remembered something.

"Gaius," he said, "Morgana mentioned someone called Emrys. I don't remember exactly; but she seemed to have the idea that whoever they were, they were helping me. I don't know anyone by that name." The king noticed that Gaius had stiffened at the mention of the name Emrys. "Gaius, do you know them?"

"My lord―"

"Answer me, Gaius."

"I must see to Merlin, sire, else there may be nothing I can do for him." The physician turned back to his unconscious ward. "Oh, Merlin," he sighed, "what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Arthur scowled. Gaius had evaded his question, he obviously knew who Emrys was but hadn't told him. Arthur sat up suddenly.

Or had he?