The warlock didn't know what to do. He had a feeling that Ceri was angry, especially when she charged out. He wanted to explain to her that he wasn't mad at Arthur. He wanted to let her know that he didn't blame him. He wanted to let her know that the event was ultimately inevitable and that Freya had lived on borrowed time. But, she left before any of that could be said.

Merlin winced at the words Ceri yelled at her godfather. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He hadn't wanted her to be that angry. He had just wanted her to know the truth and understand her past. She deserved to know. Would he have said anything different if he had a chance to redo the conversation? No. Merlin knew he would have said the same thing if given a second chance.

When the air had quieted and there was no more yelling, Merlin thought he ought to go check on Arthur. Shaking, Merlin pushed himself up. He fell back, but he didn't give up. He tried again. This time, he stayed standing. On very unsteady legs, he shuffled from the room and outside. It took three times as long as it should've, but at least he made it. His heart was pounding and he was sweating from the exertion.

Stepping outside, he sank down onto the bench by the cottage. He couldn't go any farther. "She didn't mean those things. Right now, she's upset and hurt and angry. But she'll calm down," Merlin whispered. "It'll be all right, Arthur."

When Ceri had run off in to the darkness Arthur had just watched her leave. He had wanted to go after her, but the fact of the matter was someone had to stay at the hut for Merlin's sake and if that person wasn't going to be Ceri, then it had to be Arthur. The tears that had been dotting the edge of his sight when she had slapped him finally fell freely from his blue eyes.

In his heart he had known that this day was inevitable. He couldn't have kept the entire truth from Ceri forever, no matter how much he may have wanted to. Arms wrapping around himself the former Prince of Camelot turned towards Merlin who was seated on the small two seat wooden bench that was just beside the hut.

He had heard the warlock come outside and he had heard the whispered words, but only now was he choosing to respond to them. Pain filled blue eyes studied the raven haired man intently. "You shouldn't be out here Merlin," Arthur began through sharp intakes of air. "You need all of the rest you can get if you want to heal."

Arthur chose to ignore Merlin's comments about Ceri and how she hadn't meant what she had said. He knew that; knew she was just upset, but even knowing all of that didn't mean that his heart hadn't been crushed by her words. Of course Arthur knew he deserved everything she had said to him. She had been right; he had screwed up in more ways than one.

He had in essence destroyed a family; killing the mother, banishing a child who had done no wrong and who had been struggling for her next breath, and banishing the father who had done little more than try to protect his family the only way he knew how. Arthur felt like a monster especially because he knew there was no way he could fix the damage he had done to the people he had once considered his closest friends.

At the comment about resting, Merlin shrugged. "Should I really," he asked. "Or does it matter? Arthur, I am dying. I know it. I heard Alice and you talk, although I figured it out before then."

He sighed as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I haven't eaten in twenty years, so I can barely tolerate a spoonful of broth. I had wounds that were not tended and while they are healed, who knows what happened during that process. It was magic kept me alive all of those years. Magic and worry about my daughter," Merlin explained. "Can anyone live through that? Do you know of anyone?"

"And, you know, I can die with peace in my mind and in my heart," the warlock concluded. "I now know she is alive, that she didn't get taken, and that she now knows her history fully. I wanted her to know the truth. She deserved it."

He leaned back and rested his head against the wall. "But, why did you keep her when it made you go from living a Prince's life to that of a peasant? Why didn't you send her somewhere, like a monastery?" Merlin asked.

The warlock glanced at Arthur and saw the grief in his eyes. "Do you feel I made the right choice as a godfather? How did you even know? I guess Gaius told you," he mused. "And, if you could do it over again, would you accept the responsibility? I know what my answer would be. I want to know yours. Do you have any regrets of raising her?"

Arthur didn't answer at first because he physically couldn't answer. To hear Merlin talk it sounded to the older man as if the warlock had given up and didn't even want to live anymore, and that just crushed his heart. He had just gotten the younger man back and now it sounded as if no matter what he did he was destined to lose him again. Losing him the first time had almost destroyed the former Prince of Camelot. Losing him a second time? Arthur couldn't even think about the hurt and pain that would be present.

The blonde felt tears well up in his eyes at the knowledge that there really was very little hope that Merlin would live, but still he refused to let the tears fall because he didn't want the warlock to see them.

The warlock looked over at Arthur. He could see the tears that wanted to fall. He noticed the man's chin crumple as he lips turned downwards in a vain attempt not to cry.

"Arthur, please, don't cry. Do not weep for me or my pending death. I will not weep," whispered the man in a serene voice. "It will be all right. You will be all right. Don't forget that. It will. I am not afraid. And, I am at peace it will undeniably happen. Isn't that the most important thing? Peace of heart and of mind?"

"Ceri, she shouldn't have been born so soon, but she was It was so scary," he said. "But, I would've done anything for her and did those couple weeks."

They had been talking back at forth for a little while; Arthur answering Merlin's questions and Merlin answering his to some degree, but after he mentioned what he did about Ceri and how he just couldn't let her be sent away he heard Merlin say, "You couldn't or wouldn't? I would not have been angry. I would've understood. I could hardly take care of her and I had Gaius and my mother helping me," the warlock admitted.

"Couldn't, Merlin. You told me you wanted me to be Ceri's godfather, or at least you had wanted to ask me. When you were taken...Gaius reiterated that fact. Why did I keep her if it meant losing my birthright? Because I owed it to you and Ceri but most of all I owed it to her mother. Ceri had no one and she would have been left to die. No child deserves that."

The warlock nodded a second time. He had figured as much. That had been the answer he was expecting."Yes, I did. I did want you to be her godfather. I couldn't imagine anyone else in that role," Merlin replied. "I didn't know she would come early or that she would be so sickly or that you would actually have to take care of her for very long. I thought I would see her grow up. I thought I'd help her with her first steps and words. There was so much…but it doesn't matter now. Although, I didn't think the position would cost you everything. I didn't want it to."

"No, a child doesn't deserve being left for the wolves," he continued, "I guess it's why the monasteries take unwanted or orphaned children. They have a home at least. I don't follow their beliefs, but I like that they do that."

"Freya understood. She harbored no ill-wishes or hatred towards you and what you did. She understood. She knew she could be killed at any time. Freya knew she was dangerous," he told Arthur. "She would've understood you sending her away. She would've been grateful you took care of Ceri and raised her as her own."

Merlin was trying to let him off the hook; Arthur understood that, but he felt as if Merlin should at least be angry with him; he deserved it! He killed Freya; he left a husband without a wife and a child without a mother! Not only that but he ripped that father and daughter away from the help and support they both sorely needed and it was because of that heinous act that the father was then ripped away from the daughter.

"Oh, Arthur, Ceri would've ultimately ended of motherless. Freya lived on borrowed time. Even though she didn't want to, she killed people and things. You very well might've still killed her or someone else would've," Merlin said. "If I had to do it over again, I don't think I would've told you of my marriage. Freya was so scared and she was a fugitive in the courts eyes. It was my only way to protect her."

"You forget Merlin; already knew. Before you told me I knew the two of you had gotten married. I had seen you and her; saw the ceremony." Arthur mumbled, looking away in to the darkness.

Merlin shook his head. It was a slow, deliberate movement. "No, I haven't forgotten you knew about the wedding months before I told you," said the warlock. "But, you must be forgetting that I didn't know you knew. I thought I had hidden our marriage well and had planned to keep it hidden, only because Freya asked me to do that. I wouldn't tell anyone until she was ready. If she had ever been ready. We could've been hiding our secrets for years if things had happened differently."

Merlin's brow furrowed as he swallowed so hard his Adams apple showed. His thin fingers curled inwards and dug in until they bit through the skin, making blood drip from his palms. Merlin's head went back and leaned against the house. Closing his eyes, a moan, low and wild, ripped from his throat and came out of his lips.

He had done too much. Every muscle was complaining from the movement. He had even eaten too much. His stomach was spasaming, churning, and cramping. Limply, Merlin leaned over and threw up. When he was done, he stayed leaning forward. His body shook. His chest heaved. And sweat trickled down his face, chest, and back.

"Here let me help you."

Merlin wanted to fight the help. He wanted to tell Arthur no and that he could handle this himself. He had thrown up before, after all. There wasn't a lot to help him with. But didn't. He couldn't. He had naught the strength. He just shrugged.

It was Arthur. When Merlin had started to throw up, reflexively Arthur had gone back inside, grabbed a cloth and then poured some cool water in to a cup before returning to the warlock's side. Now he knelt down in front of the younger man, soaking a bit of the cloth in the water before wiping the bits left over off of Merlin's face.

Merlin watched the exiled Prince with embarrassment. "Sorry," he muttered as his brow furrowed with more pain. "I think whatever Alice gave me has worn off. Everything hurts."

"Swirl some water around in your mouth, it'll help get rid of the flecks that'll be caked in there as well as the taste, but don't swallow it, just spit it back out." Arthur said, placing the cup in to Merlin's hand. He helped guide the cup to the dark haired man's lips so he could sip on it.

Merlin nodded. He was glad for the water to rice his mouth out. The bile left a burning sensation in his throat. Merlin sipped the liquid, swished, and spat it out. "Better. Can we go in?"

Arthur sighed and then nodded. He hated seeing Merlin like this. It tore him up. Wrapping an arm around Merlin's waist and shoulders, the exiled Prince led Merlin inside and laid him in his bed.

On top a silvery white steed, a man perched. Crowned with dark curls, he wore no head gear, but he was dressed in the armor of Camelot. Laden with hunks of fresh meat from a good day of hunting, the beast he was on moved slower, thus when he heard something (a wheeze) he could easily stop.

"What was that, Mordred," asked a curly and blonde haired knight.

"I don't know, Leon. I'll go see," Mordred said with a bit of disdain in his voice. He dismounted and followed the wheezing.

Seeing a small girl, who was older then she looked, struggling to breathe, he knelt beside her. Gently, Mordred placed a hand on her shoulder and rolled her over. "Miss, can you hear miss. Can you breathe," he asked. Unclamping his cloak, he wrapped it around her. "Who are you?"

Brushing a strand of hair away, he saw into her mind. His widen as he stared at her. "You are the child of Emrys. I thought he was dead, but you have shown me differently. Your secret's safe with me," Mordred thought to Ceri.

Ceri glared at the man. She didn't respond to his words. The girl did not like the fact he could see into her mind.