AN: Hi guys! Hope everyone's been well! About six people correctly guessed the cause of the bruises, so well done! And I'm still surprised about how many people review this story, there's almost 150! You guys are so awesome! Also, I can' decide bwteen the most amusing review. ShadowKiss and Cooper101, you were officially my favourite reviewers :)

Chapter 8 is slowly being written! Finally had a break through last night so it's coming along (at last!). Even so, I've got two major projects due soon, so patience! I'm typing as fast I can!

-)-(-

Arthur jerked awake. Sitting up he looked around his chambers, searching for what had woken him. The fireplace glowed gently, sending soft shadows flickering around the room. Rubbing his eyes, he stretched, hearing his back crack painfully. He groaned. His chair was definitely the worst place to try and sleep. Rubbing the back of his neck as a cold draught brushed it, Arthur blinked blearily as he peered across his room.

Gaius was slumped in a chair beside the bed; head drooped to rest on his chest. He had stayed to make sure Merlin wouldn't experience any discomfort during the night and had still been awake when Arthur had fallen asleep. Morgana and Guinevere had taken his cot to sleep on for the night. They hadn't been willing to leave once they had gotten back, despite Arthur and Gaius' attempts to make them. Arthur had finally given up and said that they could stay.

The Prince grimaced as his gaze turned towards the bed. The herb mixture Gaius had given Merlin earlier seemed to have helped. Merlin still felt ridiculously hot to the touch and bruises kept appearing on his skin, but he was sleeping peacefully. Arthur's throat clenched. The boy hadn't even stirred when he and Morgana had argued.

Dropping his head into his hands, he sighed. I'm so sorry Merlin. Merlin was going to die and there was nothing he could do.

Something brushed against the back of his neck again. Jumping up he turned. Nothing was there. Frowning, he hesitantly sat back down. It must have been a draught. Shaking his head, he chided himself for his paranoia. Just because Merlin was... sick, didn't mean he to-

Another cold brush made him jump up again. What was that? He turned around to inspect the windows, thinking that the wind had come from an open window. Another cold touch made him spin around wildly; stopping as the touch faded away. He was facing the door and, frowning, moved towards it.

Opening the door he peered outside. It was past midnight and the castle was silent. Turning his head, he scanned the hallway. No one was there. Shrugging, he shut the door and turned back to the bed.

Another icy shiver down the back of his spine made him jump. Spinning around he searched for the cause

again. Nothing. Reaching forwards he yanked open the door and stepped outside. The hallway was deserted.

A cold touch on his shoulder spun him around to face the right. No one. Frustrated, he turned to look the other way, but another touch made him spin around to the right again.

"Who's there?" he called. No one answered. "Show yourself!"

Abruptly a burning torch down the hallway wavered before going out. Jerking back, Arthur squinted into the shadows. He had been able to see the torch from his position by his chamber door, and would have noticed someone getting that close.

Cautiously, he took a couple of steps forward, scanning the hallway. Still no one was there. Debating what he should do he saw another torch waver then die further down the corridor. Someone was there, they had to be! Decided, he hurried into his room for his sword and keys. If it was an intruder they weren't going to get far. Snatching up his sword he hurried towards his drawers and hurriedly pulled out his keys. The cold feeling had returned, sweeping against the back of his neck persistently. Ignoring it, he attached his sword to his waist and quickly slid into his boots.

Exiting his room, he quickly locked it, just in case, and hurried down the corridor towards the now unlit torches. The icy feeling had disappeared as soon as he had left his room. Maybe there was a draught in his room. He'd have to check it out in the morning.

As the Prince hurried through the castle, torches kept dying as he approached them. He still couldn't see anyone putting them out, but someone was there, he knew it, and wasn't about to let them get away.

Reaching the main entranceway he paused. Which way had they gone? A creak by the door made him narrow his gaze and hurry forwards. They were trying to get away! Rushing forwards he pulled the door open and looked out around the courtyard. Empty. Frustrated, he hit the heavy wood of the door.

Thump. He squinted to see a bucket roll slowly towards him from the left. Yes! With new determination not to lose them, who 'they' were he bounded down the stairs, running towards the bucket. Just as he reached it a door by him clanged shut. Rushing forwards Arthur quickly opened it and descended the stairs, absently noticing that they led down towards the underground emergency storage. Why would anyone come here? It was unused except during the time of warfare, when supplies were stored there and people might be hidden if in danger.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs Arthur saw two guards slumped over a table, asleep. Scowling, he strode forwards and roughly shook the closest man's shoulder. The man grunted unattractively before settling down again. Drugged, most likely, although he couldn't see a pitcher anywhere.

A rattle of shifting stones down the corridor made his head snap up. He couldn't stay here; the intruder would get away. Decidedly he hurried forwards, bending to lift a torch from its wall bracket. He'd catch the intruder and then come back to reprimand the guards later.

Reaching a large set of stairs he hesitated before slowly stepping down. This would be the perfect place for an ambush. The uneven light from his torch would make his eyes less sensitive to movement and would be a beacon as obvious as the sun. It would have to do though, and the height that Arthur had from the stairs would give him a slight advantage. Switching the torch from his right hand to his left, he quickly unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready. The most probable form of attack would be a crushing blow towards his neck in an attempt to quickly kill him.

Coming to the bottom of the stairs, he inspected the corners of the landing for an intruder before continuing down to his left. Ahead, the light revealed broken stone carvings. Frowning he examined them quickly, looking for signs of looting, and of the trespasser before hurrying onwards. There was still no sign of anyone around.

Heading forwards, he stumbled down a slight slope covered in rubble, the torch wavering in his hand. Steadying himself the Prince slowly edged forwards through the short tunnel, sword at the ready. Coming out on to a landing he froze.

A dragon. A giant golden dragon. A giant golden dragon staring at him.

Staring up at the beast in horror, Arthur lurched backwards. His foot caught on a protruding rock and he fell, smacking his back into the ground. The torch bounced away from his hand rolling to stop a couple of feet from his leg, the light flickering, almost dangerously, off the dragon's scales. His sword, however, thankfully remained in his hand.

Frantically, Arthur scrambled backwards towards the tunnel, attempting to hold his sword up to defend himself. The dragon looked down at him and Arthur could have sworn that he saw it grin.

Suddenly his limbs stopped moving. Panicking, he pushed his muscles to move, eyes still locked on the beast. His muscles tensed and strained, but it felt like he had been encased in rock. Full of dread his mind unhelpfully supplied him with a sentence from the book Gaius had given him. 'Dragons, like many sentient magical creatures, are able to wield their magic for many reasons: to protect themselves, hunt their prey...' The dragon had caught him with its magic!

Arthur tried to yell, but his jaw refused to open, only allowing a muffled cry to emit from his throat. Terrified, he watched in horror as the dragon pushed itself forwards, claws digging into the rock it was resting on, and brought its head within feet of Arthur's body. The Prince tried to flinch back but the only thing he was able to do was to clench his eyes shut. This was it…

A soft chuckle met his ears. Cracking open one eye, he saw the dragon's head pull back as it laughed. Laughed!

"Your behaviour is amusing, Princeling, but unnecessary. I shall not harm you." Arthur watched as it settled itself down on its rock, claws clacking softly. "I merely bound your body to prevent you from leaving before I was able to tell you why I called you here."

"And why have you called me here?" Arthur demanded, blinking in surprise as his jaw moved.

"I believe that we have a mutual interest," rumbled the dragon.

Arthur waited for it – or him, it definitely sounded like a him – to answer. When the dragon didn't elaborate, he urged him on, "Which is...?"

The dragon smiled – goddamn smiled! "Merlin."

Arthur stared at him. "Merlin? As in, my Merlin? Merlin who trips walking across a flat floor, Merlin?" He made a face. "You must be joking."

"I am not."

"No, no, no. No way." Arthur shook his head, relieved that the dragon had lifted his magic, if only partly. It was uncomfortable and demeaning to be bound so easily. "You – how do you know Merlin?"

"That is not important," said the dragon. "What is important is his current state."

"How... how do you know about-"

"I have my ways." The dragon shifted slightly. "And his current state is worrisome."

Arthur dropped his gaze, the helpless feeling returning. "He's going to die."

"Which cannot happen." Arthur frowned and looked up.

"Why?"

"Right now, you do not need to know that."

"Why not?" Arthur demanded. "Merlin's my ser – my friend. I think I have a right to know."

The dragon's wings snapped outwards, the sound echoing throughout the cavern. "We do not have time! Tell me, what has the physician done to heal the boy?"

Arthur shrugged, or tried to. The dragon's hold still gripped him from the neck down. "I don't know. Gaius tried all sorts of herbs and mixtures and tonics, but nothing seemed to work. He has these bruises appearing all over him and his body is reaching ridiculous temperatures-"

"Yes, yes, I know what is wrong with him; I just wanted to know what the man had given Merlin." The dragon gave a rumbling sigh. "The physician doesn't know the cause then."

"And you do?" he asked suspiciously.

The dragon gave him a wry look. "Of course I do." His wings unfurled, creaking ominously. "Stay there." He launched himself upwards, wings beating air and dirt into Arthur's face, making his eyes water. He lifted a hand to wipe the grit away. Surprisingly enough, it moved, no longer bound by an invisible force. Quickly wiping the dirt off, Arthur then tested the rest of his limbs. He could move again.

Getting up he let out a sigh of relief. Glancing upwards, he searched for the dragon, but the creature was nowhere in sight. Bending, he grabbed the torch and held it up. Still no dragon. Arthur took a step back, towards the tunnel, before stopping. It was stupid to stay here. The dragon had been able to bind him like it was a fly caught in honey, and if he came back, he'd probably eat or burn him. Either way it was an unpleasant way to die.

Or he could be telling the truth, and might actually be able to help Merlin. He supposedly knew the cause and Gaius didn't. He might have a possible cure. It was Merlin's only chance.

Merlin or the kingdom?

A sudden whoosh made him jump. The dragon swooped down on to its perching rock in front of him. It reached its – his – head out and dropped several round looking things on to the stone at Arthur's feet. Confused, Arthur bent, bringing the torch closer to examine them.

They were seven rocks, all roughly the size and shape as a fist, and green in colour, with bright red patches. "What are these?" he asked.

"They are Merlin's cure." The dragon settled himself down on the giant slab of stone, staring at him intently. "These are bloodstones, made from dragon blood split on obsidian and cleansed in fire. They are healing stones. They will heal Merlin."

Arthur stared at the stones then up at the dragon. "How?"

"You must place them over his body - the physician will know the best places - and wait. The bruises will fade and his temperature will disappear." The dragon frowned. "They will not, however, heal the whip marks."

"Why not?" Arthur tentatively picked one of the stones up, still gripping his sword. They felt smooth and warm, but didn't seem remarkable, and definitely didn't seem like they could heal Merlin.

"Everything had a specific purpose. These stones' purpose has to do with the blood and energy within a person."

"So they're magic?" Arthur tightened his fist around the rock.

"Like many things in this world," said the dragon.

Arthur stared at the stones. It was one thing to think that magic wasn't bad and talk about it with Gaius, but to use it? Him? The prince? What if his father found out? He would be furious. Being his son would probably matter very little if he found out…

Yet... one man had already died because he could not use magic to heal himself, and Merlin was significantly more important to Arthur than that man had been. And Arthur didn't want Merlin to die if it was preventable. Call it selfishness or friendship, it was the truth. If there was a chance to save him, he was going to take it.

Nodding slightly, he sheathed his sword and looked up at the Dragon. "How do I know that I can trust you? What do you get in return for this?"

The dragon narrowed his eyes. "I have not eaten you, that is how you can tell that I am trustworthy. And as for what I get in return, that will be revealed in due time."

Arthur hesitated. He still didn't know if he could trust the dragon. The book had said that they were incredibly intelligent and cunning, and often spoke in riddles to confuse those who tried to talk to them.

But it was Merlin's only chance.

Arthur nodded firmly. "Okay." He bent and scooped up the stones into his arms, using his shirt to hold them. "Thank you." He turned to leave.

"Pendragon…" the dragon called. Arthur turned back. "I expect you to return as soon as you are able. There is more that needs to be discussed."

"What happens if I don't?"

The dragon bared his teeth with a snarl. "Do not try that with me Princeling, destinies are changing. It would be disadvantageous to many if you did not return." The dragon bent his head, staring menacingly into Arthur's eyes. "Merlin and yourself included."

Arthur swallowed. "Right. Next chance that I get."

"Good," said the dragon. "Now hurry. He does not have much time left."

Arthur nodded and rushed back up the tunnel, clutching the stones to his body. Gods above, that dragon was terrifying. How on earth did it know Merlin? How on earth had Merlin discovered it? Ever shocked and confused, he ran past the still sleeping guards, dropped the torch back into its slot and launched himself up the stairs. The dragon's departing words were starting to sink in. He does not have much time left. Was Merlin really that close to dying?

Boots thudding on to the stone floor, the Prince dashed to his chamber's door and quickly unlocked it, uncaring of the loud thuds that echoed throughout his room. Rushing to the bed he dropped the stones beside Merlin before turning to Gaius's slumbering body.

"Gaius! Gaius, wake up!" He shook the man firmly.

Gaius slowly awoke, groaning as he sat up. "Sire? What is the problem?"

"I have something that will cure Merlin." Gaius frowned at him.

"How Sire? We exhausted all other possibilities, noth-"

"These Gaius!" He snatched one of the stones up and held it out to Gaius. The room was dark only the dim fire to light it, but the mottled green and red hue of the stone was still visible. "Apparently we have to place them on the body, and they will fix whatever is causing the bruises and temperature."

Gaius stared at the rocks in amazement. "Where did you get these?"

"It doesn't matter!" he snapped. "We have to hurry, Merlin doesn't have much time." He pushed the rest of the stones towards Gaius. "Do you know where we have to place them?"

"Yes, yes," said Gaius, standing. "Can you light some candles please, Sire? I will need more light."

Arthur nodded before hurrying collecting candles from around the room and crouching by the fire, lighting as many as possible. Carrying them back over to the bed he hurriedly positioned them on any available surface. Gaius had folded back the sheets and had straightened Merlin's arms and legs, and was now inspecting the rocks Arthur had left on the bed.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just need to place the stones down in the right way or they will not work as well." Gaius slowly placed the stone at the base of Merlin's neck.

"Gaius?" a voice called from the cot. Arthur spun around. Morgana was slowly extracting herself from the sheets. "Arthur? What's happened?" She came over. "Is something wrong with Merlin?"

"We think that we can save him," replied Arthur.

Her eyes widened. "How? I thought we tried all of the possibilities."

"We came up with new one." Arthur muttered, watching intently as Gaius placed another stone in the middle of Merlin's back.

"What is it?" asked Morgana curiously, also watching Gaius position the stones.

Arthur hesitated. Morgana had always been somewhat sympathetic towards those with magic, for some unknown reason, but he had no idea how strong her support was. "The stones have healing properties. I don't know how they work exactly, but it has something to do with blood and energy."

"They're magical?" Arthur hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"No." Arthur jumped and stared at Gaius. "Their positioning has to do with blood points on the body." He placed two stones on the back of Merlin's thighs. "It's a rather... obscure branch of therapy, which is why I didn't think of it earlier." Two more stones remained, which he placed onto Merlin's upturned palms.

Arthur waited. He wasn't sure what he expected to happen. When nothing happened for a minute he asked, "Is it working?"

Gaius frowned and placed a palm on Merlin's forehead. He blinked in surprise. "His temperature has decreased." His fingers expertly sought out Merlin's pulse at his throat. "His pulse is steadier." He sat back. "They're working."

Morgana gave a cry of surprised relief, her hand coming to grip his arm. Arthur barely noticed. It had worked. It had worked! Merlin was going to be okay! He let his breath out in a huff, relief flooding his body.

Suddenly, Merlin stirred, fingers twitching to grip the stones in his hands. "G-gai... Gaius?"

Gaius reached out a hand to cradle the back of Merlin's head. "Hush, Merlin, don't move." His fingers stroked tenderly against the back of Merlin's hair. It was a testament to how ill Merlin must have been feeling when he didn't flinch away. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

Merlin blinked unfocusedly at Gaius' direction. "M'little. Feel cooler. Hurts less."

"That's good Merlin," murmured Gaius, hand still stroking the back of Merlin's head. "Would you like something to eat?"

"No, m'good. T'anks Gaius." Merlin's eyes fluttered shut, and his breath quickly evened out.

Gaius sighed expansively, as if a sudden weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I think it's safe to say that he will survive the night."

Morgana's fingers loosened from their death grip on Arthur arm. "Thank God," she said, sounding relieved.

"Yeah," Arthur breathed.

-)-(-

Arthur grunted as he sat up. His head felt like it had been stuffed with wool. Rubbing his eyes he peered around his room. He was currently sleeping on the rug by the fire, blankets covering his legs. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but was better than his previous choice of bed – his neck still ached from its awkward positioning. Stretching his neck painfully he saw Morgana and Guinevere were still asleep in the cot beside him.

"Good morning Sire." Arthur turned, his neck twinging painfully. Gaius was seated at his table, mixing a something in a bowl. "How did you sleep?"

"Alright," Arthur replied softly, getting up. "How's-"

"Merlin? He's doing rather well. The bruises have continued to disappear and his fever has greatly reduced."

Arthur sighed in relief. "Good." He sat himself down across from Gaius at his table, reaching for the pitcher.

"Sire." Arthur looked up as he poured water into his goblet. "I must ask you... where exactly did you get those stones?" Arthur tensed, slowly putting the jug down. He had kind of hoped that Gaius would have been too distracted with healing Merlin to ask any questions about the stones' whereabouts.

"I-I... Does it matter? Merlin's better. Do we really have to worry ourselves about their origins?"

Gaius gave him a stern look. "When their origins involve magic, Sire, I believe that they do. Where did you get them?"

Arthur looked down at his goblet, nervously rubbing his thumb against the edge of the table. "I don't know if you'll... I just..." Arthur hunched his shoulders. "They're from... a dragon. That's underneath the castle."

Gaius made a soft choking sound. Arthur glanced up and saw the physician gaping at him, astounded. "Gaius, I – I know that I probably shouldn't have, and that it's wrong, and goes against all my father's laws, but – but I couldn't just leave Merlin like that! The dragon he – he offered a way to help him. To save him." When Gaius' face didn't change, he hurried onward. "I know it was magic, and I know I probably shouldn't have trusted him, but he wasn't lying! I mean, look at Merlin, he's getting better! And the dragon seemed just as keen as I was to keep him alive. Apparently he knows Merlin, though God only knows how, and I just couldn't – I couldn't let Merlin die because of my father's stupid, irrational fear of magic!" Arthur quickly looked back down as Gaius' expression didn't change, feeling strangely similar to a chastised child. "And... and I thought, after our talk about magic, you'd... understand."

Silence pervaded the room. Arthur didn't dare look up. He truly didn't know what Gaius would say or do. The conversation they'd echoed in his head. Gaius had seemed supportive of magic then, but being supportive of magic was completely different from actually using it. If his father ever found out... the Prince didn't think even he would be spared punishment.

Gaius sighed quietly. "I suppose you did what you saw fit."

Arthur looked up sharply. "So... you don't object to... this?" he gestured towards Merlin.

Gaius studied him carefully. "I am not saying that Arthur. I think that your choice to rush along with the dragon's aid was reckless and lacked proper judgement, but your motives were pure." Gaius rested his chin against his folded hands. "Did the dragon ask for anything in return for this generous offer?"

"He wants me to return once Merlin has gotten better."

"Did he give a reason why?"

Arthur shook his head. "He just said it would be 'disadvantageous' to us if I didn't." Gaius sat back, frowning thoughtful. "Should I go back?"

"Dragon's are known for their wisdom and their knowledge of future events," admitted the old man.

"I know, it was in that book."

Gaius gave him a small smile. "So it couldn't... hurt to go back." Gaius' face sobered. "But you must be careful. If your father discovers-"

"Any of this, he'd most likely execute us all." Arthur nodded, swallowing. "I know."

-)-(-

Throughout the day Merlin steadily got better. His temperature continued to decrease and the bruises faded. He no longer had bruises ringing his ankles and wrists and the rest of the marks had lightened in colour. Morgana and Guinevere had accepted the story about the stones positioning curing Merlin, ignorant to their magical properties. Gaius had continued to observe Merlin, regularly checking the bruises and the whip wounds. He was also shooting Arthur concerned looks when he thought he wouldn't notice.

Arthur had noticed. He tried to ignore them, though. He wasn't sure how he felt about so easily accepting magical aid. A part of him was convinced that the dragon had magic-ed him, but if he had, why hadn't he done anything worse than making him use magic to heal Merlin? It made no sense!

Arthur shook his head tiredly. Morgana and Guinevere had left a couple of hours ago, thankfully. He really didn't want them enquiring about the stones any more than they had. If they found out... Well, he didn't want to risk it. Thankfully Morgana had felt tired and ill so they had bid them goodbye and had left.

As soon as they had left, he'd dragged out his parchment and set it down in the table. He had to finish that letter to Hunith. It was now five days since Merlin was whipped, he really couldn't leave it any longer. The letter would take another day or so until it could get to Ealdor, and he had all ready delayed the inevitable.

After staring at the parchment for the best part of an hour, he sighed and threw his quill down. It just wasn't coming! Mentally declaring defeat he turned to Gaius, who was sitting by the bed reading.

"Gaius?"

"Yes Sire?" Gaius looked up.

"This letter that I'm writing to Hunith... I just don't know what to write," he admitted hesitantly.

Gaius marked his page before resting it on his lap. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to tell her about Merlin. In a way that doesn't sound horrible and –" Arthur winced "–and prat-tish."

"I take it that you've tried." Arthur nodded. "Have you still got the attempts?"

Arthur shook his head. "I got – frustrated with them and threw them into the fire. They just kept coming out wrong."

Gaius gave a brief smile. "Alright then." He leant back, absently rubbing the spine of his book. "How did it sound wrong?"

Arthur frowned. "It sounded too... formal, distant. Like a noble talking about-" He stopped.

"Like a noble talking about a servant?" Gaius asked gently. Arthur reluctantly nodded. "That is understandable, Sire. Although you have realised that you do consider Merlin a friend, it's ingrained into your behaviour to treat him like a servant. You will have to consciously make an effort to move around that."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you Gaius." Gaius smiled at him reassuringly before returning to his book.

Arthur turned to look at the parchment. What did he want to say? He wanted to tell Hunith about the whipping, that Merlin was all right – mostly – and that Arthur was sorry. Without sounding like a prat. Yes, he could do that. He hoped.

Picking up the quill, he quickly dipped it into the ink before bringing it to the parchment. Cautiously he began writing. He had to cross out words and sentences, and sometimes whole paragraphs, but slowly, painfully slowly, the right words began to emerge. He still didn't think they were perfect, but when writing about something as horrible as a whipping, there were no right words.

Eventually he stopped, dropping the quill down beside the parchment. The page wasn't neat; there were ink spots and long angry lines across the page, but the right words were there. He glanced over at Gaius, who was reading, before turning back to the parchment. As much as he wanted to ask Gaius if the letter was satisfactory, he knew that there was only one person who should read it.

Pulling another piece of parchment towards him, he started to rewrite the letter, ensuring that it was as neat as he could make it.

Hunith,

It is my regrettable duty as a friend to inform you about something that happened to Merlin. A couple of days ago there was an incident that involved myself and my father, and because of Merlin's contribution to my endeavour, he was chosen to be punished in my place.

My father chose to give him ten lashes. As devastating as that amount sounds, Merlin is mostly alright. Gaius was able to stop the bleeding and prevent infection from setting in. Merlin did experience a slight fever a day or so after the whipping, but has recovered and he is now on the mend.

Hunith, I cannot fully express my deepest sorrow and regret at letting this event happen. There are no excuses that I could make, and I know that this is unforgiveable. If you wish for Merlin to return home to Ealdor, I will gladly help him pack and send him off. I know that I have broken Merlin's trust as a friend, and yours as his mother, and I want you to know that I am doing everything within my power to remedy the wrong that I have caused.

I cannot ask for your forgiveness and I shall not try. Know that I am ensuring that Merlin receives the best care possible and that no one regrets this incident more than I.

Arthur.

-)-(-

Gaius looked up as Arthur approached him. In his hand he held a sealed letter, bearing the red wax seal of the Pendragons.

"I've finished the letter, Gaius," the Prince said quietly. "Thank you for your advice. It helped." He held out the letter.

Gaius gently took the letter. "I'm glad that I could help. I'll be sending it off tomorrow."

Arthur nodded, his face smooth. "Very well." He seemed to hesitate before moving away. "I'm going to go for a walk." He headed for the door.

Gaius glanced at the letter, then at Merlin. "Arthur?" He called. The Prince paused; hand on the door handle, as he turned. "I'm proud of you. You've done well."

Arthur gave a small grin. "Thanks Gaius." He left.

Gaius sighed, rubbing the edge of the letter. The boy had grown a lot in the past couple of days, and the letter was proof of that. He was becoming the man that the kingdom would need.

Hearing a mumble from the bed he turned to check on Merlin. The young sorcerer merely shifted slightly before settling down, the rocks on his back moving slightly. Gaius frowned a little. As grateful as he was about Merlin being saved, he wasn't sure that Arthur's sudden acceptance of all things magical was necessarily a good thing. He had spent his whole life being taught about the evils of magic, and while Gaius had tried to make his attitude towards magic more lenient, this change seemed abrupt, even unnatural.

Shaking his head slowly, he placed the letter down beside him. As much as he might want to, he couldn't protect and guide Arthur through his every choice. He would have to make mistakes like any other, and Gaius could only hope that they weren't as devastating as his last.

-)-(-