Here it is, the very last installment of In Arthur's Head. It's been quite a fun ride, taking over a year and exploring how Arthur matured. Maybe sometime I'll go back and "do" more episodes, but I've got many other projects clamoring for attention. I invite you to read my other works and whatever may come in the future!

Freedom to Rarity- Sorry, I'm going to disappoint you. But I hope I did it with style! :)

Linorien- Aww, thank you! :D

Mika271170- Thank you! Aww, make sure you have tissues nearby. You're a rock star for reviewing so often! :D

I paused when I heard a screech. It was like a carrion-call, but much worse because it was familiar; Morgana had unleashed her dragon. I looked up and spotted it right away; it swooped down and spat fire at my forces, though most managed to duck in time to avoid it. It was frightening, but it wasn't going to stop me.

The battle continued. By now, most of the less-experienced had fallen. Those left were lethal, battle-hardened veterans. And they wouldn't be so easy to beat. I'd defeated two Saxons only to look up and see a group of them charge at me. I raised my sword defensively and started to swing. But before they could attack, a blast of lightning knocked them backwards. Another group came at me from my other side, but they were also struck down. I glanced around and saw something at the top of the nearby cliff. I couldn't be sure in the waning dark, but it looked like the sorcerer who'd tried to heal my father. We stared at each other for a moment. He raised his staff and struck down another group of Saxons approaching me that I hadn't seen.

I heard a female-sounding shout followed by another lightning strike. Had the sorcerer just taken down Morgana? I watched as he struck more enemies down; then the dragon screeched again. Could he handle that too? He opened his mouth and roared in a language I'd never heard before, "Nun de ge dei s'eikein kai emois epe'essin hepesthai! Weas!" It rang through the sky. I don't know what it was supposed to do, but the dragon halted its attack in mid-air and flew away, screeching in protest.

I stared up at the sorcerer for another moment. It was hard to imagine, but the proof was literally right in front of me—a sorcerer was fighting for Camelot. I turned to the knights behind me and raised my sword again. "For the love of Camelot!" I yelled. I swung the sword around and turned to charge after the Saxons. I heard another lightning strike—was that the sorcerer's answer to my call? But the Saxons were suddenly retreating.

I dispatched a Saxon who'd been brave enough to stand his ground, then looked around; I was the only one standing. One of my knights raised his arm and I ran to him. But just as I'd gotten to him, he died. I felt a presence behind me—it was that strange pull again, but much closer. I heard the sound of a sword scraping over the ground, but didn't let on that I'd heard. A moment later I moved fluidly from kneeling to standing, turning and blocking the attack in the process. I moved to stab my opponent, but stopped when I realized it was Mordred. He stared back for a moment then stabbed my side and immediately withdrew his sword. Pain like nothing I'd ever felt before lanced through my body. I remained standing for a moment, staring at him until shock hit me and I fell to one knee.

Mordred looked down at me like he'd finally proven something. "You left me no choice," he said quietly. It hurt that he felt that way; part of me really wanted to go back and change my ruling. But it was too late. He couldn't be allowed to support Morgana. I found the strength to lunge up and impale Mordred in one move. I grabbed at his mail for support and we stared at each other for a long moment. Then I twisted the sword while pushing it further through him. When I withdrew it, he smiled at me. The light left his eyes and I let him fall. I turned and started to walk away, putting my hand over the wound, but went down. I managed to crawl over to the rock wall before collapsing against it. The world went dark.

xxxXxxx

When I shuddered awake, it was dark. But hadn't it just dawned? I was still leaning against something, but it wasn't rock, and oh, the pain! I also saw a campfire and Merlin sitting on its other side. I was surprised to see him, but so glad. "Merlin," I said.

That got his attention and he got up to come to me. "How do you feel?" he asked.

I tried to sit up, but a fierce stab of pain prevented me. "Ah, ah!" I grabbed his shoulder. He put a hand on my shoulder to stop me moving.

He moved that hand back to my wrist and put his other on my shoulder. To support or restrain me, I guessed. "Lie back. Lie back."

"Where have you been?" I managed to gasp out.

"It's of no matter now." He sounded subdued.

"Ah, my side . . . my side."

Merlin glanced at the wound. "You are bleeding."

No, really? "That's okay. I feel like I'm dying."

He ignored the joke. "I'm so sorry. I believed I'd defied the prophecy." I looked at him—what the hell was he saying? "I thought I'd made it in time."

"What are you saying?"

"I vanquished the Saxons and the dragon. But . . . But I knew it was Mordred that I had to stop." I patted him on the shoulder; he was obviously distressed and talking nonsense.

"The sorcerer defeated them, not you."

His face crumpled. "It was me." He gripped my wrist as if holding on for dear life, and started crying.

I'm still missing something. "Don't be absurd, Merlin." I looked back at him; he was too serious to be making up a story. "This is dumb; why would you say that?"

"I'm a . . ." he started, but the tears overwhelmed him. He pointed to himself and sniffed before trying again. "I'm a sorcerer. I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you." He let go of me then.

I moved my hand to his chest. "Merlin, you can't be a sorcerer. I would know!"

"Look here." He put his hand back on my shoulder and turned his head toward the fire. Then he raised his hand to the fire. I lifted my head while he whispered, "Upastige draca!" A moving dragon formed from the flames then dissipated. He looked back at me for my reaction.

I didn't quite know what to do. If he was telling the truth about everything, he was incredibly powerful. He'd decimated the Saxon army by himself! I felt shock, awe, gratitude, fear, and betrayal. The last one stuck. "Go away."

He removed his hand but protested. "Arthur!"

"No. Just . . . go! Just . . ." He pulled back, shocked and devastated. He finally got up and walked away. I watched him go. I had to think, I had to . . . not think. But I wasn't going to talk to him anytime soon.

xxxXxxx

It was morning, but I can't recall if I slept or not, which probably means I did. Merlin sat with his back to me, in the same place he'd sat after I told him to go away. The feeling of betrayal hadn't decreased at all, and I wondered how I'd make it through the day without speaking to him. It felt unnatural.

Just as I'd thought that, Gaius came walking into our campsite. What a relief! I heard Merlin stand as Gaius walked past him. I pretended to still be asleep; who knows what I'd hear?

"Any change?" Gaius asked.

There was a quiet "No."

"I'll check." Gaius came over to me.

"This is all you got?" All of what?

"The hills are swarming with Saxons." I'll bet they are.

"There's no yarrow, no lady's mantle." Oh, herbs.

"I got comfrey."

"You should've gotten sticklewort. There should've been sticklewort." He sounded quite upset. And since when did he give Gaius orders?

"Merlin, please go water the horses. Make sure they're fed too; we can't hide here for long." Yes, get rid of him!

I heard Merlin leave and cracked my eyes open to make sure. I grabbed Gaius's robe; he jumped. "He's a sorcerer," I told him. Gaius didn't look surprised enough and didn't reply. I let go of him and lay back. "You knew."

"Arthur, he's your friend."

Was. "I would like him to leave."

"You don't have to fear him."

Good guess. "Send him to Camelot with a message for Guinevere."

"You can't send him. I will go."

"I don't need a sorcerer; I need a physician." I looked away.

"He can do much more than I can, much more than you could ever dream." He bent closer to get my attention. "Arthur, he doesn't just have magic . . . many people say he's the greatest sorcerer to ever live."

He can't be serious. "Merlin?"

"If you want to live, you'll need Merlin to help you, not me."

I stared off in the direction Merlin had gone. Now that I knew this, how did I feel? Utterly confused.

Gaius got up and walked over to Merlin. I heard them conversing quietly for a while and closed my eyes. Apparently I had to trust Merlin if I wanted to live. Neither man had said so, but I had a feeling that this wound would kill me sooner rather than later. Is living worth the risk of spending time alone with a sorcerer? That's what it came down to—trust or die.

A little while later, I heard Merlin walk up to me. I didn't acknowledge him until he said my name. I turned my head toward him. "We have to leave at sunrise," he said.

"I'll decide," I replied. I wasn't going to make this easy for him

"I won't let you die."

He sounded like the Merlin I knew; I looked up at him. "It changes nothing." I looked away again and closed my eyes.

Gaius spoke up, "Let him rest. It's late." Merlin walked over to Gaius and they talked briefly. The world faded as I welcomed sleep.

xxxXxxx

I woke to the familiar feeling of Merlin gently shaking me awake. I reflexively started to tell him to go away before I realized I wasn't in my bed at Camelot. And he was a lying sorcerer about to cart me somewhere to be healed by fairies. Ha. Fairies. Sure.

Gaius fed me breakfast. Then he and Merlin helped me stand, which caused a horrific amount of pain. But I had to get to my horse somehow. He slowly pushed me upright on the horse then backed away.

I remembered something then and took the leather string off from around my neck. "Gaius," I said. The physician walked up to me. "Give this to Guinevere." I placed the necklace in Gaius's hand.

He looked down at it, surprised. "It's the Royal Seal, sire."

"If I die I can't think of anyone I would rather succeed me." He placed his other hand on top of mine, nodded and walked over to Merlin.

They had another quiet conversation. Someone walked toward me— "Merlin," Gaius called. Merlin turned back and went to Gaius. I heard a few more whispered words before Merlin walked past me to take my horse's reins. I looked back at Gaius one more time while Merlin grabbed his horse's reins too and started walking. I had the oddest feeling that I wouldn't see Gaius again.

We'd gotten out of the woods before Merlin got on his horse. He kept the horses at a fast walk, probably to minimize my pain. I didn't think anything could minimize my pain besides falling unconscious.

It was almost noon before we saw anyone else. We were riding on a plain and two other men on horseback were galloping our way. "Saxons," Merlin said. He dismounted and fiddled with something at the back of his saddle. Then he threw a blanket over me—oh, to cover my armor. "I'll handle them. Keep your head down and don't talk."

I grabbed the edges of the blanket and arranged it to hide my face. Merlin stepped away from me to wait for the Saxons. The hoof beats grew closer; Merlin waved his arms and shouted, "Help us! Please, we need help. We were ambushed."

I saw the Saxons dismount and walk towards us. "By whom?" one asked.

"Two men."

"What did they look like?"

"Um . . . one was . . . a knight." He glanced over at me and looked alarmed. "They raided our camp." He pointed to some smoke in the forest ahead of us. When did he do that? The Saxons walked over to look at the smoke. Merlin came back to me and covered Excalibur's hilt.

The Saxons turned back around. "You're certain it was a Camelot knight?"

"Yeah."

The bald one didn't believe Merlin. He pushed Merlin back as he walked forward, then yanked the blanket off of me. The Saxons drew their swords, but before they could attack us, Merlin raised his hands and magically threw them. His eyes glowed! I didn't think they'd be getting up anytime soon.

Fear warred with betrayal. "You've lied to me from the beginning."

Merlin didn't say anything. I wanted him to—I wanted to fight. But he refused to take the bait. Instead, he pulled on my horse's reins to get it moving again. He mounted his horse again and we were off.

Near sunset, Merlin declared it was time to stop for the night. I rolled my eyes, but since he was the ambulatory one, he was going to get his way whether I liked it or not. He helped me dismount and propped me up against a tree. Then he unpacked the horses and took care of them. Finally he got around to building a fire and tried to light it with flint.

I watched him try and fail repeatedly. I didn't want to point out the obvious to the big, bad sorcerer, but it looked like I needed to if I wanted warmth before tomorrow. "How come you don't use magic?"

"Habit, I guess," he replied. He turned to look at me, as if seeking my permission. I nodded. He turned back and started the fire without a word. "Feels weird."

"Yeah." Doubly so for me. He got up and walked to where he'd put the bags. "I thought I knew you."

He picked up a blanket and turned back to me. "I'm still me." He unrolled the blanket next to me.

"I trusted you."

He looked up. "I'm sorry."

Hmph. "I'm sorry too." To my surprise, he came over and took off my boots. Huh? "What're you doing?"

"They need to dry," he explained, and set them by the fire. Then he went to his blanket and lay down to sleep. He said nothing else to me for the rest of the night.

I couldn't figure him out. He was a sorcerer and all sorcerers are evil; that's what I'd been taught. But I've known him for almost a decade, and he's never done anything evil. He hates killing animals, for crying out loud. Oh, and crying. That's not evil either. And I'm still alive; he's never hurt me on purpose. Then there's what Gaius said—he's the most powerful sorcerer ever. If he's that powerful, how is he not correspondingly evil or mad? He could probably tear down Camelot brick by brick, but here he is taking off my boots. Why bother being a servant when you could be a king or more?

I probably should just ask him. It's been twenty-four hours since he told me his secret, and not once has he tried to kill me. I'm probably safe, and I'm definitely curious.

xxxXxxx

I don't know how long I slept, but I woke to Merlin fumbling around with cooking utensils. I guess the clumsiness wasn't a lie. When he finished cooking, he filled a bowl and brought it over to me. He knelt down and put a hand behind my head to support it. It's humiliating to be spoon-fed. "This will help you. You need to eat," he said.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked rudely; I hated being weak! He looked hurt and put the spoon back in the bowl. I clarified, "Why are you still acting like a servant?"

Merlin set the bowl down. "Serving you is my destiny. It has been from the moment we met."

He really believes that? "I tried to hurt you with a mace."

"And I used magic to stop you." He was almost smiling.

"You cheated."

He laughed a little. "You wanted to kill me."

"I should've." I turned away.

"I'm thankful you didn't. I do this because of who you are." I looked up at him again. "Camelot's nothing without you."

No. "Maybe that was true once, but not now. There are quite a few who could fill the crown."

"There'll never be any more like you, Arthur." He smiled and picked up the bowl. "Now, I also do this . . ." He lifted my head again, but I ate his offering. ". . . Because you're my friend and I don't want you to die."

After we ate, Merlin packed everything up again and put out the fire. He maneuvered me back onto my horse—it was a struggle to not slump over into its mane, but I felt secure enough. Maybe he was using a bit of magic to keep me from falling off.

After a couple hours of painful riding, we took a break. There was a nice fallen tree to sit on; Merlin got me down again and helped me walk over to sit on it. He went back to his horse to get a water skin. I began slumping further and further into myself until I was in danger of falling to the ground.

He must have seen me, because he came running over. "Arthur, you have to hang on. One more day." He sat at my side, looped his arm around mine and pulled me up to a stable posture. "One more day," he said and wiped my head with a cloth. Then he put that away and started opening the water skin.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked. The betrayal had simmered down into hurt.

"I wanted to, but . . ."

"What?"

"You'd have cut off my head." He tilted the water skin into my mouth.

I suppose that was a possibility, but . . . "I don't know what I would've done."

"And I had no wish to put you in that position."

I turned to really look at him. That's deep. "That's what troubled you?"

"Some men are born to plow fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me, I was born to serve you, Arthur. And I'm proud of that. And I wouldn't change a thing." After all this time and everything that's been revealed, he still felt like that? Probably the only time I've been right about him was after that mace fight, when I felt there was something about him. "Ready?" he asked, breaking into my thoughts. He put my arm over his shoulders and helped me up and back to the horses.

Merlin led the way again as we got going. I suppose that was wise, since I was the defenseless one for once. We'd gone a ways into the forest when he held up his hand to stop us. There was smoke billowing up ahead.

"Saxons?" I asked.

He seemed to become extra focused for a few moments then said, "They've moved on."

He seems sure. "How do you know?"

"I can 'see' the way forward."

Well, okay then. "So you're not stupid. That was one more lie."

"No, it's just one more bit of my charm." He smiled briefly and we continued our trek.

Not too long later, we heard shouting somewhere close by. Merlin halted us again, which caused me to look up. Saxons, probably.

He looked around and finally decided. "In there," he said, and we turned our horses to our right; to a secluded area off the path. We dismounted and hid just before three Saxons on horseback came up the path. I leaned against a tree while Merlin watched from behind another one. He saw a hoof print that we left behind in the mud. "Andslyht." A small wind blew leaves across the print. The Saxons stopped to look around, but Merlin made bushes rustle to their right.

"This way," one said, and all three rode off in the false direction.

"This isn't new to you," I commented. He glanced back at me then back to watch the Saxons. "All this time, Merlin . . . You never once asked for recognition."

"That's not why I do it. Let's go." He put my arm over his shoulders again and helped me to our horses.

The longer we rode, the more the pain grew. It seemed to be draining not only my energy but my will to live. By dusk I'd slouched into my horse's mane. Merlin must have looked back at me and seen me like this. I heard him cry, "Arthur!"And before I knew it, my horse had stopped.

"I can't continue," I told him. It was a plea to end the pain.

He seemed to understand. "We don't have far to go. But we must get to the lake before sunrise."

I shook my head weakly. "No, Merlin. No."

"Well okay then. We'll rest for one hour."

He helped me down from my horse again, and propped me against a fallen branch. He got a fire going then brought the water skin over. I had to tell him a few things; what I've been thinking all day long. "Merlin," I started, and he leaned closer, "whatever happens . . ."

"Shh . . . don't speak."

Ha. "I'm the King, Merlin. You don't tell me what to do."

He made an amused sound. "I always have. I won't change now."

Why would he? "I don't want you to change. I want you . . . to always . . . be you." What I wanted to say next would be really hard for me—I had to swallow my pride. "I apologize for how I treated you."

He looked surprised; then my head fell. He made a noise and I lifted it up. "So you're gonna give me a day off?"

"Two." He did deserve it.

He smiled. "That's generous." My head lolled down again. Merlin checked my pulse and said, "Now rest."

It seemed like only a minute later when he woke me up. "Arthur. We have to get going." Huh? Tired. But he had the nerve to shake me. "Arthur. We've dallied long enough." He helped me to my horse again. This time I'm positive he used magic to keep me from falling.

It was still dark when we stopped again. He basically carried me forward to another log and sat me down against it. He nodded to the view ahead of us, into the distance. "Avalon. We'll make it."

Just then, something spooked the horses and they ran off. Merlin got up and tried to stop them, "Whoa, whoa, whoa." He stopped suddenly; Morgana was right there.

"Hello, Emrys," she said. Emrys? He tried to turn back to me, but she threw him several yards. I attempted to reach Excalibur, but I was too weak. "How wonderful it is to see you, Arthur. Look at you, not so high and mighty now." She crouched down next to me. "You may have won the battle, but you'll lose the war. Mordred has killed you. But don't fret, dear brother, you won't die alone. I'll stay and look after you," Suddenly Merlin appeared behind Morgana and drew Excalibur quietly. "Until the wolves gorge on your corpse and roll in your blood."

"No," Merlin said. Morgana whipped her head around and they both stood. "This bloodshed must stop. I blame myself for what you've become . . . but this has to end."

"I am a High Priestess. No mortal blade can kill me," she said arrogantly. Merlin simply stabbed her. She shrieked and started sliding to the ground but he held her up. I watched, unsure how I should feel about all this.

"This is no mortal blade. It was forged in a dragon's breath like yours." He twisted the blade and she gasped. Her legs buckled then, but he caught her and lowered her to the ground, withdrawing the sword in the process. "Goodbye, Morgana." She drew one more breath and was gone. Merlin stepped around her to help me up again.

"You've finally brought peace."

"Arthur." He hefted me up and supported me as we walked. I had the presence of mind to grab Excalibur and dragged it behind me. When we got through the trees he said, "Hurry up. We have to make it to the lake."

I wasn't going to make it. I collapsed to the ground and unfortunately landed on Merlin. "Merlin . . . we need the horses. We can't— it's too late. Too late." So much pain—not all of it physical.

"No."

"Merlin, all your magic can't heal me."

"I can. I won't lose you." He struggled to stand with me, but it was obvious he wasn't strong enough to lift me.

I patted his hand; it was all I could move. "Just—please, just hold me." He ceased struggling and his breathing slowed. My head settled to rest next to his shoulder. "I want to say something. . ."

"You can't say goodbye."

I'd rolled my eyes over to look at him. "No, Merlin . . . I know now, everything you've done . . . For me and Camelot. For the kingdom you helped me build . . ."

"You didn't need my help."

"Perhaps. I would like to say . . . something I've rarely said to you before . . ." I managed to turn my head a bit more and look into his eyes. "Thank you." I found strength to reach up and touch him on the back of his head. Then it was gone; my hand fell and my eyes closed without my permission.

"Arthur . . . No! Arthur!" I heard him say, and felt him check my pulse. "Arthur! Arthur. Wake up." I tried to open my eyes, I really did. But the blackness was pain free. I felt him try to move me but he couldn't. He said "no!" and yelled other things, but I was beyond comprehension. There were other sounds and odd sensations, but I gave myself to the blackness.

There was a light and a strange tugging sensation, and I was free. I felt no more pain and I could see; and what I could see was amazing. Merlin looked shattered, but a dragon was talking to him. The dragon I was supposed to have killed. I should have felt upset by that, but didn't. I just listened.

"Merlin. There is nothing you can do," the dragon said.

"I've failed?"

"No, young warlock, for everything you have dreamed of building has come about." It has?

"I can't lose him! He's my friend!" He looked so upset—for the first time I wanted to hug him.

"No man, no matter how great, can comprehend his destiny, but some lives have been prophesied, Merlin . . . Arthur isn't merely a King—he is the Once and Future King. Have courage, for when Albion's need is dire, Arthur will rise again." Really? How? When? "It has been an honor to have known you, young warlock—the tale of which we've been a part will live long in the minds of men."

The dragon flew away while Merlin watched. He lowered me to the ground. It was odd to think of myself as something "other." Then he picked up Excalibur, examined it briefly and threw it into the lake with a small cry. But instead of sinking, an arm rose from the lake. The hand caught Excalibur and sunk back into the water.

He turned back to me. He picked an enormous amount of rushes and laid them on the bottom of the boat that was just there. Then he lifted me with the aid of magic and laid me in the boat. He arranged my cloak nicely and folded my hands over my chest. But he paused after he'd placed a hand on my forehead; he broke down crying for a few minutes. Like his soul had been wrenched from his body.

He removed his hand and stood there, struggling for control. Finally he took a deep breath as if he'd resolved something inside, and stopped crying. "Arthur. In sibbe gereste." The boat set off on the lake, drifting to the island in the center. He watched it and resumed weeping.

Eventually he collapsed to the ground. He curled into a ball and surrendered to the grief. When the tears ran out, he got up slowly and walked back to where we'd left Morgana. He crouched down next to her head and stroked her hair a bit while murmuring words I couldn't hear. After a few minutes, he stood and magically scooped a big mound of dirt from the ground. He lifted Morgana into the hole and smoothed the dirt over her. I heard him clearly when he said, "In sibbe gereste," again.

He sat for a few minutes until the sound of hoof beats startled him into standing. It was Percival, but his warning about Morgana was too late, of course. They traded stories. Gwaine had been tortured to death by Morgana. That hurt. When Merlin told him about me, tears ran from both sets of eyes. Percival put a hand on Merlin's shoulder and they stood like that for a while. He asked if Merlin was coming back to Camelot, but the warlock shook his head. He told him he needed time away and may or may not return. Percival nodded in understanding. They spoke for a few more minutes before Percival re-mounted his horse and left.

Merlin began walking in the general direction of Ealdor. I got the feeling he'd never return to Camelot. There'd be too many memories.

I blinked and found myself in the throne room at Camelot. Guinevere sat in the single throne on the dais. She wore her beautiful crown and Pendragon-red dress and looked fragile but strong at the same time. She was looking down at what she held in her hands—the Royal Seal.

Leon stood beside her. She lifted her head, looked at him and gave him a slight nod. The knights, the council, the royal household, and the court members looked up at her.

Leon looked out over the people and solemnly said, "The King is dead." Gaius and Guinevere shared a glance and she looked back at Leon, who said, "Long live the Queen!"

The entire hall echoed the cry: "Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!" She looked out at our- her -people standing before her. Oh Guinevere . . .

When I blinked next, I found myself alone in a beautiful garden. I heard several sets of footsteps and turned. Several people approached me on every side—Morgana, Gwaine, Father, Mother, Elyan, Lancelot . . . and they all looked healthy and happy. We conversed and I learned so much. Everything suddenly made sense. Over time, I met others in Avalon.

When I wasn't learning or spending time with others, I watched the outside world. I watched as Guinevere and the others grew old, and one by one, joined me in Avalon. But there was one who never joined me there, though he pretended to age.

I watched Merlin wander the world as it figuratively grew bigger and bigger. Dynasties rose and fell, and he helped whatever righteous causes he could. Many things he did or said sparked the Enlightenment—knowledge spread over the world. Technology grew more and more advanced, and monarchies faded into the background as governments based on politics older than Camelot came to life.

But every now and then, the old-young man returned to the shores of Avalon. I knew what he was looking for. Waiting for. And every time I wanted to call out to him, plead for him to remember and not give up. And he never did give up. Someday when he passed by the lake, I'd be there waiting for him. I'd call him "idiot," he'd call me "prat" and we'd set off to save Albion. Again. Together.

To everyone- thank you so much for reading and putting up with the wait times! I'll catcha ya around FF! :D