Blood drained from the Merlin's already pale face.

In an rush of panic, he attempted to back away only to trip on the log he had been sitting on. He lost his already precarious balance, tumbling towards the ground, when a pair of strong arms kept him from falling.

Terror flashed in Merlin's eyes as he tried to shake the king off, breathing in erratic, shallow breaths. Arthur quickly unhanded him and backed away when he realised that he was the cause of Merlin's fright, angry at himself for not having expected this outcome when Merlin found out the truth.

He raised his hands, palms forward, in a gesture of appeasement. "Calm down, you idiot. I promise I won't harm you."

Arthur fought the urge to grasp Merlin as he swayed on his feet, dangerously close to collapsing. An ugly coughing fit shook his thin frame and he was struggling to catch his breath.

"Please just sit before you fall down," directed Arthur with a soothing voice. He guided Merlin back into a sitting position, careful not to spook him again.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to compose himself, waiting for the panic to fade. Arthur winced, worried at the sound of Merlin's laboured breaths. He would need to get Merlin to Gaius as soon as possible, but for now he settled for retightening the cape around the trembling sorcerer.

After a short time, Merlin slowly opened his eyes to look at Arthur.

"I'm alive? You lied to me?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

"I did try to tell you but you refused to believe me." Arthur paused, a smug smile appeared on his face. "I cannot believe you fell for that."

"You tricked me!"

"I did. And I'm not even sorry about that."

"You… You had me burn… I know you did," Merlin muttered in accusation, distress obvious on his face.

Arthur's smile quickly fell. If he had needed any further proof of who betrayed the other, it would have been right in Merlin's eyes.

"You never died, Merlin."

"Yet you let me believe I was dead! What kind of sick joke is this? I thought we were friends!" Merlin huffed dejectedly. "But no, I guess we're not."

Arthur sat next to Merlin and stared straight into his eyes.

"We are," he assured, his tone steady and sincere, uneasy at the glaring distrust in the warlock's eyes.

"Then explain." Merlin requested, his voice low and guarded.

"I guess I needed you to tell me your side of the story," Arthur explained, "what you tried to tell me that night in the dungeons, without fear of retaliation."

Merlin nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"What happened to me?" he asked.

"I ordered your release. Some people in Camelot, namely lords in my father's former counsel, figured you had enchanted me into letting you go. They hoped your death would break the spell. And since I had already signed the execution order, they decided they could go through with it."

"They must have because I remember that part quite vividly," caustically snapped Merlin.

"I was too late to stop it," Arthur recalled. He would never forget his sheer horror at the sight of the blaze. "When I got outside, the pyre was already lit. I climbed on it to get you out."

Merlin blinked slowly, disbelief making way to frustration. "You purposely jumped in a fire?" he scolded, raised hands stuck in mid-air. Merlin didn't even seem to notice as the cape fell from his shoulders. "That's stupid, Arthur, even for you!"

Arthur picked up the fallen garment from the ground, draping it around his friend. "Believe me, you are not the first one to tell me this. And keep this on."

"Were you hurt?" asked Merlin, his voice soft again.

The shadow of a smile slowly appeared on the king's face.

"You are the one who almost died, Merlin, and yet worry about me."

"I wouldn't worry so much if you weren't such a fire-jumping clotpole. How did you manage to get out?"

"It started raining. Pouring, as a matter of fact."

"Rain? You got lucky, Arthur."

"That was no luck. It was a torrential rain, unlike anything Camelot has ever seen. I got out completely unscathed. You, my friend, have saved my life again."

"Why did you save mine?" asked Merlin, his tone suddenly subdued. "You seemed dreadfully determined to have me burn."

Arthur's mind hurled him back to that cursed morning almost four months ago when he had laid Merlin's burnt body on the pavement. Remorse clawed at his chest at the mere memory.

"I made a dreadful mistake, the worst of my entire life, by letting prejudice blind me and dictate my actions. I should have listened to you, I should have given you a chance. I wish I had been a better friend. I am truly sorry, Merlin."

"It's wasn't your fault," Merlin murmured through his bluish lips.

"It was! Of course it was! I signed the order for your execution, for God's sake!" Arthur ran his shaky fingers through his hair. "You almost died because of me! I should have trusted you. I should have protected you. I should have– "

"Arthur…"

"I condemned you to burn, Merlin." he choked, unable to meet Merlin's gaze anymore.

For a long time, Merlin didn't say anything. Neither did Arthur. He had confessed his sins, let Merlin judge him over them.

Then, Merlin's quiet voice broke the silence.

"I forgive you."

Arthur looked at Merlin's pale face unbelievingly, as if he had just been granted the most precious thing in the world. There it was. The forgiveness he never thought he would get.

He didn't deserve it. How could Merlin even forgive him?

Arthur shook his head. "You can't."

"For once, that's not for you to decide, Arthur Pendragon," said Merlin. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry too. About the lies, the magic–"

"Don't even worry about that", cut Arthur, brushing away the whole idea as if Merlin's magic was the most inconsequential matter in the world. "I had time to come to terms with you having magic. You have nothing to apologise for."

"What? How can you be fine with magic? And what do you mean, time?" Merlin paused, observing their snowy surroundings perplexedly. "I'm confused. Why does it look like winter?"

"The all-powerful warlock is confused. Why am I not surprised? " teased Arthur, a smirk on his face.

"Enlighten me then, Sire." Merlin said, smiling at the jest. And while his smile did not quite reach his eyes, it was still a welcome sight for the king.

"You have been gone for a long time, Merlin."

Arthur explained to a bewildered Merlin the dark days that had followed his would-be execution, from his grievous injuries to how his mind had been gone for the last few months. While he tried to maintain his usual hold on his emotions, he still struggled to describe everything without letting transpire what a living nightmare it had been for him and their friends back in Camelot. Merlin had been through too much already, and based on what Arthur now knew about his friend, he would probably manage to find a way to feel responsible for it.

The shivering warlock was particularly shocked to learn of how his magic had taken over and how he had been walking around, instinctively casting magic.

"So you really don't remember anything?" Arthur asked.

"I don't. For me, it is as if everything just happened. I can still feel the smoke in my lungs and the burning heat on my skin."

Arthur threw a worried glance at Merlin but while the young man seemed too frail for his liking, there were no visible signs of any lingering after-effects from his close brush with death.

"That could also be from the freezing bath you just took," he pointed out.

"It just might. I think I will try to avoid those in the future," Merlin replied, deadpan.

"Incidentally, how does anyone survive that?"

"Magic."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Is that going to be your answer to everything from now on?"

"If you have a better way to explain it, I'm all ears"

Arthur smiled contentedly. "I never thought I would say this, Merlin, but it is good to hear your voice. Even as ghastly as it sounds right now."

"Thank you, my lord." Merlin's words might have been reverent but his face told a different story.

"Tell me, Merlin. How are you? Truly."

Merlin shrugged. "I'm fine."

Merlin had always show extraordinary resilience, Arthur could never deny it, but he had seen too many stalwart men go through traumatic experiences get scarred for life to accept this answer.

"Honestly," he asked, staring at his friend.

The warlock adverted his king's gaze. "I'm not sure. It's a lot to take in."

A gleam of the campfire reflected in Merlin's troubled eyes, shivers shaking his frame as the brisk morning breeze blew through his damp hair.

"You want to move closer to the fire?" Arthur suggested.

"I'll pass," replied Merlin, reluctant to go near the blaze.

Though Arthur suspected why, he had the good sense not to ask. Not yet anyhow. Instead, he settled for simply throwing more branches on the campfire, hoping the additional heat would reach Merlin. He then grabbed Merlin's discarded garments and laid them in front of the blaze to dry, pretending not to have seen the astounded look his friend wore at his actions.

Taking care of Merlin had become second nature to him, Arthur had not even considered that he might be weirded out by it.

His work done, he sat back next to Merlin.

"Since I know all your dirty secrets now, I hope you won't mind telling me this. That night, why didn't you try to get away?" Arthur asked, craving the answer to a question had been eating at him for months.

A weary sigh escaped the hunched figure.

"Please tell me. I need to understand," Arthur pleaded. "Could you have gotten out of there?"

Merlin hesitated. "Yes."

"Then why didn't you? Gaius thought… suggested… that it was because you thought it was my will to see you dead. Was it?" he asked, already dreading the answer.

"It's complicated. I didn't want to live in a world where you wanted me dead but I guess I could have. But even if I had fled, life always would have found a way to screw me all over again."

"Merlin..."

"I just didn't want to fight anymore. I was so sick of getting constantly manipulated by destiny. You condemning me to die was the final blow. I wanted to be done with it." Merlin paused. "I thought that if I… burned… then there would be no going back. But apparently, destiny not done toying with me yet." he explained, unusually bitter undertones resounding in his voice.

"It's not like you to give up", worried Arthur, deeply troubled. His mind flashed back to the broken man he had left alone in that black cell. Merlin had given up on life that night. But what had happened months ago for Arthur had happened the day before for Merlin. His state of mind could not have changed much since.

"I was in a dark place," Merlin confessed, his eyes haunted.

He still was. It was painfully obvious to Arthur, who vowed to himself that he would not let his friend hide the strain of their common destiny. Merlin wouldn't wage his war alone anymore.

"That night," Merlin murmured, "I knew I was going to die, but no one came for me. No Gaius with wise words. No Gwen saying goodbye. No Gwaine trying to bust me out. What did I have to live for?"

"What about your mother?" asked Arthur, recalling Hunith's distressing visit to Camelot. She had been utterly devastated by Merlin's condition, as only a grieving parent could. He would have to send word as soon as possible, to mend the poor woman's broken heart.

"I just wanted to keep her alive. And safe. If I had escaped, Ealdor would have been the first place anybody hunting me would have looked. She might even have been hunted herself."

"For what it's worth, Gaius was placed under house arrest, Gwaine was put in a cell to cool off because he did try to bust you out, and I had informed Gwen that I had revoked your sentence and that they all could speak to you once you were released."

"Next time you decide not to have me killed, Sire, could you please be so gracious as to have me informed as well?" Merlin bitterly retorted.

Realising his sudden harshness, he opened his mouth to speak but Arthur cut off his apology before it even began.

"Don't worry about it. Like you said, it just happened for you. You're entitled to be angry."

Against all odds, Merlin had forgiven him, but what he had went through was not the kind of experience one could forget. Arthur would gladly deal with the fallout.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this, Merlin. You don't know how much. And I want you to know you are sorely missed back in Camelot. But I would understand should you decide not to return," Arthur swallowed hard. "Wherever you choose to go, I will make sure you shall want for nothing. But if you do come back, you will find that Camelot has become a much better place. And if we work together, we can still have the future you longed for. This is my vow to you."

The warlock bit his lip, somber.

"So, do you want to come home?" Arthur asked tentatively, bracing himself for Merlin's reply.

Merlin's eyes softened. "I really do."

Arthur exhaled in relief, not realising he had been holding his breath. He inconspicuously sniffed, feeling his eyes getting wet. That would not do.

He cleared his throat, standing tall, arms crossed across his chest

"Good. That's settled," he said, taking on a dignified tone. "Come, then. I'm freezing. You can draw me a hot bath when we get home."

The freezing warlock grimaced. "That's it! No more miracles for you," he replied in mock outrage. "Next time you have me killed, I'm staying dead."

Arthur's face fell, aghast. "Don't joke about this!"

A mischievous grin appeared on Merlin's face. "Too soon?"

To be continued

Two chapters left until this story is complete. Thank you for reading! :)