Title: Rarely Pure, Never Simple

Author: Arisprite

Summary: The moment of truth takes Merlin by surprise, but can he gather the courage to say it?

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, BBC and Shine do, nor do I own much of the dialogue in this story. Lines will not be marked, but if your recognize anything, it comes from season 1, episode 10, The Moment of Truth.

A/N: We start to get back to my inserted scenes after this. The popularity of this story seemed to go down at the battle parts, I think I need to work on writing fight scenes. :/ Hope you like this installment! Thank you to those who have reviewed!

"Truth is rarely pure, and never simple." Mark Twain

Will, still in the act of pushing Arthur to the side, jerked with the hit.

Merlin jerked with him, startled. His mind seemed to take a long while to realize what had happened. In the long seconds after Will was hit, Kanen collapsed, and then the world seemed to rush back to its proper time, roaring in his ears. He vaguely heard someone shout.

"Will!" It was only his own throat burning on the word, that made him realize it was him. He dove forwards, catching Will even before his knees weakened, grabbing his shoulders. His body fell against him, and Merlin lowered him to the ground, wincing at the gasps of pain from Will's mouth.

Arthur, who'd staggered when Will pushed him, urgently knelt before Merlin's friend.

"You saved my life." He said, mild disbelief colouring his words. Will struggled to answer, still gasping.

"Yeah. Dunno what I was thinking."

Merlin barely heard them, his eyes were riveted on the arrow that protruded from Will's chest. He kept looking from that, to Will's white face. Will's head lay against his arm, and it was warm through Merlin's chain mail, warm like the blood that was beginning to dribble from around the arrow shaft.

"Come on! Get him inside!" Arthur yelled for help, putting his arms around Will's shoulders. Two men hurried over, and with their help, Merlin and Arthur lifted Will gently, being careful not to jar the arrow or the wound.

They took him inside Hunith's home, passing by sorrowful villagers. Gwen and Morgana looked on in sadness. As Hunith held open the door, Merlin met her gaze.

"Mother?" He gasped, desperately, pleading. His voice was thick. But she shook her head.

"There is nothing I can do, my son. I have not the skills for such a wound." She said, pain in her voice. Merlin heard the words, and turned his head sharply, disappointment flooding him. His movement brought his eyes in line with the arrow, which jerked with every agonized breath his friend made. A rock stopped up his throat.

By the time they lay Will on the table, he was panting, gasping for breath. His face looked tortured, but calmed when he was finally still, and not being jolted by the men who carried him. He even smiled a bit, addressing Arthur.

"That's twice I've saved you." He said. Arthur looked down at him in confusion.

"Twice?"

Will gave a jerky nod, grimacing again. Merlin felt a slither of ice go down his spine, and he realized what Will was about to do.

"It was me. I'm the one that used the magic." Merlin leaned closer, urgently.

"Will, don't!" Arthur looked at him, but Merlin didn't take his eyes from Will's. Don't do this, don't take my place...

"It's alright, Merlin. I won't be alive long enough for anyone to do anything to me." Merlin choked, trying to breathe through the lump in his chest. "I did it." Will gasped. "I saw how desperate things were becoming, and I had to do something."

Arthur was staring at Will in shock. "You're a sorcerer?" Will half laughed, half choked.

"Yeah, what are you gonna do? Kill me?" Will challenged, fighting even on his death bed. Merlin turned and exchanged a look with his mother, wanting her to stop this, to help. But as she'd said, she could do nothing. Then Merlin turned to look at Arthur, but he barely met his gaze.

"No." Arthur murmured, looking down at the wound. "Of course not." It was unspoken, that Will didn't have long for this world anyway, even if Arthur had wanted him dead. The worst he could do it speed up the process.

It seemed all the talking was doing Will more harm than good, for his face screwed up in anguish, and his breaths shortened to quick choked pants. Merlin looked down in mirrored pain, wishing with all his heart that Gaius was here, that he'd been quicker, that Arthur had made sure Kanen was dead. Something that would change the fact that his oldest friend was lying on a table, bleeding and breathing his last few breaths.

Arthur turned to go, to leave Merlin alone with him. He looked at Merlin solemnly.

"Do what you can for him." Merlin could not speak, but he nodded seriously, eyes shimmering with tears.

Before Arthur left, he laid a gloved hand on Will's shoulder, a steady grip the thank you he could not say. Then he left, drawing Gwen and Morgana with him. Hunith turned to follow, though she watched as her son wiped his eyes before turning his full attention back to Will.

Will was still struggling to breath, but he had enough to chuckle again, looking up at Merlin with a smile.

"Told you he was going to get me killed." He said. Merlin's breath caught, and he leaned urgently closer, laying a hand on Will's brown hair.

"You're not going to die." Merlin protested, even as his own thoughts told him he was a liar.

"You're a good man, Merlin. A great man." Merlin stroked his hair, his fingers barely feeling the soft locks. The cold terror seemed to permeate his entire body. "And one day, you're going to be servant to a great king. Now you can still make that happen."

"Thanks to you." Merlin could barely force out. Will looked at him, telling him no gratitude was needed. Then the pain increased, and his face spasmed in pain, his breath catching. New tears filled Merlin's eyes, and he stroked Will's hair some more, hoping it brought some small comfort.

"This place has been boring without you." Will said, "Good to see you again."

Merlin nodded, a weak smile turning his lips. "Yeah, you too." He breathed.

The pain was getting worse, and it became difficult for Will to even breath, he struggled to meet Merlin's eyes, twitching in the pain. "Merlin..." He ground out. "Merlin, I'm scared."

Merlin almost sobbed, choking, the words coming out without thought. "Don't be," Merlin put a hand to Will's chest, feeling it strain to force air in and out. "It's going to be alright."

"Merlin..." A few sob like sounds forced their way out of Will's lips, and Merlin gently moved the hand on Will's hair, his own face screwed up in pain and sorrow. He could barely see through his tears, though they had yet to fall.

Then, after one more breath, Will's face relaxed. No more air strained his lungs, and he stared at the ceiling unblinking. He looked calm now, as the life and pain fled his body.

By contrast, Merlin's face grew more agonized, his whole body shaking, as he looked at the body of his friend. He let out a gasp, then a sob. He was still stroking Will's hair. Then Merlin bowed his head and wept.

Merlin was always careful with his magic. He had grown up keeping secrets, and it was almost easy to keep things, the biggest thing from people he was friends with. To him, friendship was almost one sided, they would trust him with their secrets (and really, people were always telling him their secrets) while no one ever got to hear his.

That is, until Will wriggled his way into Merlin's life.

He'd been a friend for years, and he always had a way of getting into places he shouldn't be. Merlin just never realized that would mean in his confidence.

It was a normal day like any other. How many times do stories begin like that? Merlin was humming, sitting under a tree, carving a little toy (a little boy down the road was having a birthday). He rubbed out the roughness of the wood with the edge of the knife, then, used magic to smooth it out completely. He didn't want the child getting splinters, after all. No one could have seen it, eyes flashed gold but had been downcast, and the trick was nothing at all. He didn't know any actual spells, but he could get certain things to do what he wanted, wood included.

That wasn't his mistake that day.

The next thing he did was set the small carving on the tree root next to him. The wooden toy soared around his head, while he laughed. It was a bird, and he made it do what birds naturally do, just for the joy of it.

However, wooden toys don't naturally fly around men's head, and Merlin's observer knew this.

Will stepped out of the forest, towards Merlin's tree, an unreadable look on his face. Merlin jumped at the interruption, and the toy fell, but nothing could change the fact that it fell from thin air. The other boy walked up, until he was standing in front of Merlin, glaring down at him. Merlin looked up at him, not daring to break the silence. Will bent, and picked up the toy, examining it from every angle.

"You're a sorcerer." Will stated, not looking up, and Merlin said nothing save for a slight shrug. He'd never really thought of himself as one, at least not like the ones in those stories people tell in whispers. Will nodded, still peering at the toy, as if it held all the answers. "My father says that we don't want that kind around here. That we're too close to Camelot, and King Uther, and that that kind will just get everyone around them killed."

The blood ran from Merlin's face, and he hung his head. Stricken, he watched the ground, and waited for Will to run, to get his father (who was a knight, and much bigger than Merlin, even if he wasn't as tall. Not many people were, for at Merlin's sixteen years, he'd passed almost every man in the village, save Conall the blacksmith). But Will didn't move, and daring a peek, Merlin met his eyes. They were twinkling.

"What? You're not going to..." Will caught Merlin up in a hug then, pounding him on the back, and laughing.

"What, tell my father?" Will returned, falling back and sitting on his haunches. He put one hand to his chest, and looked at Merlin mournfully. "What kind of man do you take me for?"

"So you'll keep my secret?" Merlin asked, almost in wonder. He'd never felt this free before. Someone else knew about his magic, and was promising to keep it a secret too. Will pretended to think hard.

"On one condition." Merlin looked at him, slightly worriedly. "Show me something!"

Merlin laughed, and blew up the leaves around them into a small whirlwind, Will's own laughter ringing in his ears.

*~*~*~*
Hunith returned to find Merlin slumped, kneeling on the ground. His head leaned on the table leg, the table which bore the body of his oldest friend. He didn't move, or look up when she quietly entered the room, stepping up to the table. Will was dead, his eyes had been closed, and his face was peaceful. Hunith was grateful for that, she'd seen how painful Will's final moments were, and she was glad that a reminder of that did not carry on after his death. She placed her hand on his still chest, wincing at the arrow that still protruded, and then gave a heavy sigh.

Will was dead, and however much she hadn't been particularly fond of him in later years, she was sorry for his passing, not only because of the pain it would cause her son. Allowing herself a small moment of mourning, she turned her attentions to the living.

Merlin didn't move as she came around the table, and knelt next to him. Close up, she could see that his eyes were dry, though his face bore traces of tears. He stared at the ground, unblinking. Gently she came closer, and lay a hand on his shoulder.

A great shuddering breath jerked Merlin's frame, and he turned his eyes to hers. The blue she'd passed down to him were rapidly filling.

"Oh, Mother..." He whispered brokenly. Hunith wrapped her arms around him, and he clung to her, sobbing anew.

Hunith's eyes filled as well, and she pressed kisses to the top of her boy's head, her heart aching with Merlin's pain. How long ago it seemed since the worst thing in the world was a scrape on the knee, and how she wished she could make this all better with an embrace. But, Merlin had grown since then, and the world was not an easy place.

"Oh, my Merlin. My sweet boy. I'm sorry, it will be alright..." She murmured to him for a long while, until his cries quieted, and he leaned limply against her.

A noise from the doorway drew her head up, though Merlin did not react. A very awkward looking Prince Arthur stood, watching the scene inside uncomfortably. Hunith hid a slight smile, for Arthur did not look like he came for any real purpose other than to see how Merlin was, and now that he'd come, he looked like he wished passionately that he was anywhere else.

Slowly, she withdrew one arm from around Merlin, and titled his head up, so his eyes could meet hers. They were so full of pain, so tired that her heart clenched again with her son's hurt, wishing she could take it for him.

"Merlin, dear. Why don't you go get a drink of water? I'll gather some women to prepare Will for the funeral." Her voice was gentle, but his eyes still closed tightly when she mentioned Will. But he nodded, and shakily got to his feet. Merlin barely seemed to notice Arthur, still standing in the doorway. He walked passed in a daze, heading to the well. Arthur turned to follow him, but Hunith felt a sudden urge to call him back.

"Arthur." She called, still kneeling on the floor. Arthur turned, coming closer, and lending her a hand to rise. Standing, she then faced the prince, unashamedly studying him. His face was pale, brow drawn. Hunith smiled, for this young man carried the weight of so many expectations, and responsibilities, and he carried it with grace and strength far beyond his years. He'd done well today, but lives had been lost, and Hunith could tell it sat heavily on him. When he was king, there would truly be a great time in the Kingdom. Who was she to witness such a great man, caring so deeply for her small village that his face grew pale with concern?

She looked to where her son had vanished, and saw Arthur's eyes flick that way as well. Some of that probably had to do with her son, who seemed to find a place in people's hearts so deeply. Arthur, she knew, cared for him, considered him his friend. She was not blind, even though her son denied he was anything more than a servant to the prince.

But it was more than just loyalty to Merlin that led Arthur to stay here, and invest his time, and heart in a people who were not even part of his own kingdom. He, himself, could not allow innocent people to suffer if he could help them. In that, he was so like Merlin.

She felt proud to know them both.

Arthur, who'd waited for her to speak, was now staring at her curiously.

"Merlin gives me just the same look," He murmured, and Hunith smiled. "Will you tell me what it means?"

"Perhaps you should ask him?" Hunith said, breaking her gaze, and brushing bits of debris off her dress. Arthur snorted, and rubbed his eyes.

"You're both impossible." He said mournfully. Hunith shrugged good naturedly. Then she sobered.

"He'll return with you to Camelot." She murmured. Arthur, who'd been turning to go, looked back, surprised.

"He said-?"

Hunith shook her head, "No, but he won't stay here. He needs to be in the city. He needs Gaius, and Gwen and Morgana. And you, sire, though he won't say it." Arthur didn't answer, but held her gaze. "And you need him."

A flicker of amusement passed over Arthur's face, and for a moment Hunith was sure he'd make some quip about getting dressed or doing chores, but it faded, and it was with a solemn look that Arthur simply nodded.

"Look after him?" Hunith asked.

"I will."

Hunith smiled back gently, and Arthur left silently.