It was dark. Not black. Just dark. There wasn't much sound either, only dripping water and somebody crying. Who was it? Arthur didn't know. He didn't like the place. It was dark, and he didn't like it.

"Uncle Mer?" he called out, his voice rebounding off the side of the cave, creating a painfully loud noise.

There came no answer, but the crying continued, as did the dripping. Carefully, trying not to trip over anything, Arthur took a step forward. Suddenly he was slipping. Down and down and down. It seemed like it would never end. Cold. Dark. Damp. It just went on. Falling. Echoing. Sobbing. Would it ever stop?

It did stop and it did it with a loud crash. Arthur came down on the floor, feet first. But somehow nothing seemed to hurt. The one thing that hadn't stopped was the crying. It had just become closer.

He turned the corner to see two men. One was cloaked in shadow and the other was only too familiar.

Merlin.

The man in darkness drew slowly away from the servant, a knife glistening with scarlet red blood in his hand. He disappeared.

Merlin was the one who was crying.

"Uncle Mer?" Arthur asked softly. "Uncle Mer, are you alright?"

Merlin didn't answer. He turned to look at Artie. His eyes were red with tears and his hand was pressed against his stomach, trying to cover the wound from the prince.

"Uncle -" Arthur began again but cut himself off. "Merlin…" he said, using his friend's name, "What's happening?"

Merlin gurgled something, a small bubble of blood spurting out of his mouth, before his legs buckled and he collapsed. The young prince stood there, utterly horror stricken, staring at the blood that soaked Merlin's hand and shirt around his stomach.

Deciding that he was a prince and therefore brave, Arthur quickly pulled off his coat and stumbled over to Merlin, handing him the jacket, and, unable to speak, motioned for him to put it on the knife wound. With a shaking hand, Merlin clapped the jacket onto his stomach, once again spluttering something, sending flecks of blood everywhere.

"You are going to be alright, aren't you?" Arthur asked, crouching down next to Merlin, clutching his friend's spare arm with a vice like grip.

"I'm going to die," Merlin's eyes widened in what appeared to be an unnatural fear. He turned to the terrified prince, fighting back a sense of dread. "Don't watch, Arthur. Look away."

"Merlin…" the prince whispered, struggling to breath with the despair that consumed him.

"Go, Arthur. Go where you can't see me. Leave," Merlin choked, throwing Arthur away from him, but clearly finding movement difficult now.

Arthur scrambled up again and reattached himself to Merlin's arm.

"I'm not leaving you."

Merlin looked as though he were about to order the prince to leave, but his mangled stomach hampered him and he subsided into a series of involuntary spasms. Taking a strangled breath, Merlin managed to turn his gaze to the prince, the blood that trickled from his mouth mixing with the dust on the floor; it stung Arthur's nostrils, almost giving him a taste of death.

Merlin's eyes were stretched wide now, impossibly wide, staring. With a final croak of a breath, he ceased to breath, still staring with an unseeing gaze at the prince.

"Merlin?" no response. "Merlin?" Arthur shook the limp body before him. "Wake up, Merlin. Please, wake up…" still no reply met the prince's ears.

"NOOO!" Arthur screamed into the cold.

Merlin woke to the sound of a bloodcurdling shriek and a sudden thud. Jumping up from his place on the floor, he discovered the prince's bed was empty. Quickly, he searched the ruffled sheets just to make sure Arthur wasn't there, before seeing the prince sprawled on the floor on the other side of the bed.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked quizzically, forgetting to use the nickname Arthur had dubbed himself with.

The prince was either having some kind of seizure, a temper tantrum or a fit of tears, possibly all of them. He was screaming into a pillow that he was hugging tightly to his chest and almost drowning in his nightclothes what were meant for a fully-grown man, not a five-year-old child.

"Arthur, c'mon. Hush now…" Merlin tried again, casting a helpless gaze over the room for a form of rescue, but of course the chambers were empty.

Arthur continued to scream…

"Arthur!" Merlin dropped to his knees beside the prince who had his face buried in the increasingly dampening pillow, and put a hand on his shoulder.

Arthur jerked up, snapping his eyes open, and saw Merlin in front of him. He gaped for a moment before bursting into tears once more.

"What's wrong?" Merlin demanded, helplessly waving his hands around, not able to decided what to do.

"You…you…" Arthur sobbed, suddenly flinging himself onto Merlin. "YOU DIEEEED!!!"

Merlin didn't really know what to do with the small boy who had now fixated himself to his chest, but he settled for patting him on the back and rubbing his arms while making 'shh' noises gently in his ear.

"Hey, its alright. You've just had a bad dream, that's all," he said, feeling his neck become wet with tears and also noticing that the prince was shaking for some unknown reason. "Do you wanna go back to bed now?"

Arthur detached his head from the crook of Merlin's neck just long enough to nod before latching onto him again. Merlin carried the prince over to the bed, set him down, pulled the sheets over him and reclaimed his position on the floor. One again, however, Arthur had other plans…

"Uncle Mer…" he sniffed, crawling over to Merlin's shoulder and shaking him.

"Yes?" Merlin looked around.

"Can you…can I…?" Arthur spluttered, but he didn't seem to be capable of getting the right words out. A tear rolled from his eyes, over his cheek and landed on his sheets.

"What is it, Arthur?" Merlin asked with concern, turning to face him.

"Can you…just…" the little five year old pointed at the pillow and looked at Merlin, eyes filled with fear. It scared Merlin, but he understood what it was the boy wanted. He nodded and got up from the floor, sitting on the edge of bed to pull of his boots.

Slightly bashful, he lay down next to the prince, feeling his skin prickle. Arthur's lip was wobbling and Merlin suddenly found the prince snuggling up to him, practically in his lap. Sighing, Merlin just wrapped his arms around the small boy, wishing for him to go to sleep so that he himself could drift into the land of dreams.

"Uncle Mer?" Arthur whispered softly, burying his head in Merlin's scarf.

"Yes?"

"Don't leave me…don't die…pwease…" the last words trailed off as Arthur's head began to fall onto Merlin's chest, but still sounded like a plea coming from bottom his heart.

Merlin sighed, feeling relieved that the boy had fallen asleep. Not realizing he was stroking Arthur's head, Merlin quickly pulled his hand away. This was Arthur! What would he do to him once he returned to normal, given that he remembered any of this??? Merlin's mind began to play out a series of gruesome fantasies…one of which was getting pelted with arrows not fruit while in the stocks…

But what if the prince didn't remember anything once he was an adult again? Maybe he should just go with ignorance is bliss, and enjoy the time he had left with this…gentler Arthur. Yes, yes. That sounded good.

Now decided, Merlin rubbed the little prince's arm. After a moment, he began to get tired and his eyelids started to droop. Once again, however, Arthur was determined to not let him have any sleep.

"Uncle Mer…?"

"Yes?" Merlin sighed and lent his head on the pillow the other way.

"Can you sing me a song?"

"WHAT?" Merlin was flabbergasted.

"Pwease…" Arthur looked on the verge of tears again.

The young warlock quickly came up with a song he had learnt once from his mother, before a tidal wave of tears came his way. Beginning to sweat with pressure, he reluctantly started to sing.

A dragon is flying all around the sky,

And he is wondering why, oh why,

Are there people down below?

Shouting and screaming, torches aglow.

On the ground there was a knight,

His horse was black, his shield was white.

With an almighty roar, the dragon breathed a plume of flame.

The knight could do nothing but exclaim.

"Hey, mighty dragon, high up in the air!

I will defeat you, just beware!"

The dragon took no notice of his threat,

And swooped down, feeling upset.

The knight stood ready, sword in hand,

Just waiting for the dragon to land.

When he did, the knight stormed in,

Confident he was gonna win.

In a flash, the dragon was dead,

A heap of scales and a head.

The knight got consumed with laughter,

And they all lived happily ever after.

It wasn't flawless, but it was enough for Arthur; the boy had slumbered off again. Merlin hoped he was having better dreams then before. He watched him sleep for a moment; the prince's face was serenely calm.

Merlin caught himself thinking he didn't want Arthur to turn back. The grown-up Arthur would be cold and distant, but the younger one wasn't at all. The boy was actually depending on Merlin to be there for him. Merlin didn't mind at all, he was happy to be there for Arthur when he needed him.

And of course to lend his scarf to him…

Merlin sighed. The boy was clawing at his chest, searching for something to grasp and hold on to. When his little hand found the scarf, he clasped it tightly, snuggling into it if it was the only thing left in the world, together with his thumb, of course, which he had put in his mouth again.

Merlin didn't dare to kiss him again; Arthur could wake up, wanting to dance or something…

He just listened to the boy breathing and fell asleep too.