A/N: Penultimate chapter! Thanks to Glacier22, Healed535 (well, maybe...), Mediatrix, HarunoKasumi, and jayley (yes he does! But then I've also noticed for 'Camelot's greatest warrior' Arthur tends to loose badly a lot...) for your reviews!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

He waited for the end, the bite of the Lurker ending his life. Regrets running though his mind, regret that he would never see Gwen again, that he had got Merlin killed, that he had not been able to save Nemeth from its awful fate.

Just as he felt the sharp tips of the Lurker's teeth against his throat, the beast was suddenly pulled away and he was free to move once more. He recovered quickly, seeing that somehow Merlin had managed to save him yet again. Without pausing, he bent over, grabbed his sword and plunged it deep into the throat of the prone reptilian creature - it gurgled, dark blood pouring from the wound and the beast's mouth. Even with the fatal wound it kept trying to get up, swiping the air with its talons, Arthur pulled his sword free and struck again, this time straight through the Luker's heart. It thrashed one last time and went still.

The king did not have time to be satisfied in his victory over the inhuman creature however, he dropped to his knees next to Merlin, rolling him over. The servant was pale, sweat beading on his forehead and his lips were going blue.

"Merlin!" Arthur said, shaking his servant gently. "Merlin, come on!"

Groaning, Merlin looked up at his friend though narrowed eyes. "Did we get it?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded. "Looks like you saved my life again."

Merlin grinned weakly, "I do make a...bit of a habit of it, don't I?" He winced and shifted uncomfortably, Arthur supported his head. "Arthur, I need you to listen to me...you need to be more careful. I'm not...going to be around to protect you anymore."

"Don't be stupid, Merlin, you're not going to die."

"I'm not being stupid," the servant smiled. "I'm being practical. Promise me...you'll take care of yourself. You forgive people too easily - it makes you...your own worst enemy."

Arthur shook his head disbelievingly - how could Merlin, of all people, say he forgave too easily? The reason he was lying here, in such a terrible state, was because Arthur had refused to forgive him. But once again, the silly idiot was putting his loyalty to the king above his own well-being. If anyone was too forgiving it was Merlin.

"I don't want to hear this," Arthur said stubbornly.

"Arthur - "

"You're not going to die."

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry - I didn't want it to end like this. I'm sorry I lied to you." He was finding it increasingly difficult see anything and there was a merciful numbness working its way through his arms and legs.

Tears welling in his eyes, Arthur wished he could do something, anything. While he'd been focusing on defeating the Lurker terrorising Nemeth, he'd been able to almost ignore what was going on with his servant but now he was forced to face it head on. And there was nothing he could do. This was the same helpless feeling he'd felt when his father had sentenced Gwen to death, when his father lay dying in his arms, when Merlin had been dying after being stabbed by Odin's men - and now here he was again. He hated feeling so worthless. Especially when his fool of a servant was looking at him with such an earnest and understanding expression on his face.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "We'll get back to Camelot and - " he choked on his words. They wouldn't make it back to Camelot. They weren't going to make it out of this hall. This couldn't be happening. Not again. He'd sworn he'd protect his friends and family but he'd turned his back on the man who was like his brother, who had given his life to save him, and got him killed a second time. Anger and sorrow built within his chest, choking him further. In the six months since he had banished Merlin, things had not been right in Camelot - he'd known it, but had pretended not to notice how little relish he'd taken in his duties, or how Gwen had started to walk on eggshells around him; how the knights, who once had been as close to him as his own family, now treated him like their king rather than their friend. He'd known it was his own fault, he had pushed people away as he fell deeper into melancholy.

It was hard to admit, but without his servant, he was less of a king, less of a knight.

"You are...the most important...thing in Camelot - in Albion. Without you...everything will be undone." Merlin grasped his friend's wrist, "Don't make all of this sacrifice pointless!"

"I promise you, Merlin," Arthur said intensely, "nothing you have done will be forgotten. You are more than a hero, you're my brother."

Merlin managed a weak smile, "As you are mine. Still a clot pole...though."

Arthur could see his friend's eyes becoming more unfocused and distant and desperation flooded through him. He could feel the magic, so strange and familiar, twisting and churning in his veins, as if trying to get back to its owner and he knew that once it had gone, then Merlin would be gone as well.

He would have given anything to save his friend. If they were both part of a Druid prophesy, if he was supposed to become such a great king, how could Merlin be about to die? Because he knew without the clumsy, wise servant, he would not become this prophesied king. If the prophesy was true, then he could not allow this. He had a destiny, he could feel it, just barely, now it was about to slip though his fingers - it was an whisper of what Merlin must know but he grasped on to it like a lifeline.

Sometimes it felt like his life was planned out for him, whether for better for worse, and most of the time he did not like it. He liked to believe he was in control of his own future but this once he prayed for destiny to step in, to take over.

He wanted to save Merlin more than anything and the warlock's magic suddenly settled, a strange calmness flowing through him. The power at his disposal was awe-inspiring, he knew he could command the heavens if he chose, vanquish his enemies with a thought, and bring nations to heel with a single word. But he did not want such power, it was not his to wield, he simply wanted to heal his best friend. So the magic, serving its true master, began to do as he wished.

Slowly, he felt the magic return to Merlin, flowing into each open wound, knitting flesh and bone together, sealing wounds and burning through the infection that had taken hold. Minutes passed and Merlin's breathing eased, a healthy pallor returning to his face. The power which had been so intoxicating was gone and Arthur could not help but feel slightly bereft although another part of him was glad it was no longer flowing through his veins. Accepting his friend had magic was one thing, having it himself was quite another. Never again would he underestimate Merlin's abilities though - the man had more power at his fingertips than Arthur could ever have imagined.

After a few moments, Merlin moaned and sat up, looking around with mild surprise. He prodded his leg where the sword wound had been for so long before looking at Arthur with a raised eyebrow. "Did you just use my magic to heal me?"

The king waved a careless hand and stood up. "Well, since you were determined to die on me, I had to do something. Good servants are hard to find."

"Right," Merlin said dubiously, allowing Arthur to pull him to his feet. "Shame I'm not a good servant then, really."

Arthur laughed in relief, pulling his former servant in for a quick hug, before releasing him with a playful punch to his arm. "Come on, idiot, lets tell everyone the good news. Give these men a decent burial and get back to Camelot. You would not believe the state of my chambers. Gwen refuses to go in there now."

"You know, I think I'll just stay in the woods," Merlin said carelessly, following Arthur out the hall. "I had a nice little cave..."

"You don't have a choice, Merlin."

"Of course I don't."

A/N: So, see, Merlin's fine! Let me know what you think! Please review!