Author's Note: Sorry this took longer than usual – I'm sick and it's exhausting to type! This all might be gibberish. I write gibberish when I'm feverish. Enjoy, anyway! I'll write again when my body cooperates.

Hurt and Comfort in Camelot

PenPatronus

Undercover

Part 4

(Final Part)

"Sundown," Arthur muttered to no one but himself. "We're in a bloody cave. How am I supposed to know when it's sundown?" Arthur stood on the top step of crudely assembled wooden bleachers. Lancelot and Gwaine stood back to back in the arena, holding nothing but wooden swords. They looked like walking corpses. Their opponents were two of the biggest, strongest guards under Jeer's command. The majority of the slaves rested in adjoining chambers while the majority of slave traders circled the arena shouting at the fighters and making bets about their lives. Arthur knew he had to act. His knights wouldn't survive five minutes.

The Knights of Camelot attacked so suddenly and swiftly that half of the slave traders were on their backs before they noticed the red capes. Leon and Elyan fought their way to Gwaine and Lancelot and carried them down the tunnel they came from. Squires and guards led the exhausted slaves to safety while the knights kept the enemy off their backs. With a yell, Percival leapt into the fight and, to Arthur's relief, Merlin was right behind him. Arthur was waving at Merlin and Percival when the wall behind them exploded and rained rock on top of them.

"Merlin!"

Arthur raced through the crowd dodging daggers and swinging maces from friend and foe. He tripped over a dead slave trader. The man's unseeing eyes looked shocked. A boulder the size of Gaius' medicine bag hit him right on the top of his head. A coughing, gasping Percival emerged from the fog of dust caused by the explosion. "What the hell was that?" Percival yelled.

"Jeer!" Arthur shouted. "We have to get out of here before he uses magic to bring the whole place down! Where's Merlin?" Percival's jaw dropped. He pointed into the dust. "Merlin!" Arthur waded into the dark cloud. Every time he tripped over a prone body he expected to see his friend's unseeing blue eyes. Arthur felt his joints unhinging in fear. "Don't be dead," he whispered, "don't be dead, please don't be dead." Arthur spotted the familiar silhouette of a figure lying face down. Rocks covered him but they were small, thin. Arthur pushed and kicked them aside. He rolled Merlin onto his back and gave him a shake. "Merlin – Merlin!"

The young sorcerer coughed, frowned and licked his lips. Dust rolled off his eyelids when he opened his eyes. At the sight of a breathing Arthur, he grinned – wide – and a pair of tears appeared from nowhere and traced zigzags in the dirt down his cheeks. Merlin grasped Arthur's shoulder with one hand and rubbed his fingers down his cheek with the other. "I thought you were dead," he whispered, his throat full of dust. "God, Arthur, for three days I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were dead!" Arthur gasped. He helped Merlin sit up and wrapped him up in a tight hug. "I don't know what I… Merlin, you're skin and bones."

"Doesn't matter," Merlin hiccupped. He grabbed the back of Arthur's blond head and pushed him harder against his shoulder. "You're alive."

Arthur chuckled and wiped his damp eyes. "Come on, let's get out of here. Stay behind me." The fight was going well. There were more traders than knights on the ground. Battles continued. Leon took on three traders at a time. The boys got about ten feet towards the southern tunnel before Jeer appeared in front of him.

"Pendragon!" Jeer shouted. Arthur unsheathed his sword and stood between Merlin and the sorcerer.

"No!" Merlin said, fighting to get around him. "I'm sorry, Arthur. This isn't how I wanted this to go."

"Merlin, what—"

"You," Merlin said to Arthur, "stay behind me." With a strength Arthur didn't realize his servant had, Merlin grabbed Arthur's sword, pushed him aside and held it to Jeer.

Just then, Jeer unleashed horizontal bolts of lightning. There was nothing Arthur could do but cover his face. He was surprised, a moment later, when he opened his eyes and discovered that he wasn't dead. Merlin stood in front of him, his feet shoulder length apart and his chin held high. Merlin held the sword in front of him, diagonally. Somehow the sword not only blocked the lightning bolts but absorbed them.

Jeer unsheathed his own weapon. He had the same look on his face that Arthur did. But, perhaps, with even more shock. "You!" Jeer said. "That's impossible. My totem sucked your magic dry. You should be unable to stand let alone use your powers."

Merlin smiled, lips only. He twirled the sword with his wrist. "Do you know who I am?" he demanded.

Jeer raised his sword but also his palm. "No, and it doesn't matter." He approached.

Merlin held his ground. "I am Emrys," Merlin said. "Stand down or I will kill you. And if you lay one more finger on my friend, I will kill you twice." He used Jeer's own lightning bolts against him. They brought their swords down at the same time. Metal clashed, stray lightning bolts spat in every direction. Arthur ducked against the wall. Merlin was no swordsman but he'd been watching Arthur for years. He stabbed, parried, and stabbed again with the ferocity and agility of a desperate and determined man. For his part, Jeer was a better swordsman, but not sorcerer.

Merlin blocked a wave of fire. He stepped forward, anger in his face, both hands on his sword as he channeled his magic into it. His eyes glowed gold for minutes on end as he summoned spell after spell. Merlin made a twirling motion with his right fingers and three tornadoes descended from the ceiling. Two stood guard beside him and the third attacked. Jeer used his own wind to smack the tornado aside. Then he summoned his own knights. A pair of figures made of nothing but fire stitched together by lightning rose from his feet, brandishing their own swords. Merlin attacked. Arthur stared, slack jawed, as the two sorcerers dueled. They were immersed in fire and wind. Every few seconds Arthur caught a glimpse of Merlin's shoes or Jeer's fists. Stray lightning burst across the chamber and knocked more rocks down. The bleachers caught fire. One of the sorcerers summoned water and Arthur watched, fascinated, as millions of drops that lived on the damp cave's floors, walls and ceiling marched towards the center, accumulated and splashed down on the duelers with the force of a tsunami. Jeer got knocked aside. The wind calmed, slightly, and picked up again to extinguish the nearby fires.

Merlin kneeled in the center of his dying tornadoes. He gasped for air. The clothes on his left side had been slashed by tongues of flame. "Merlin!" Arthur called.

Merlin forced himself to his feet but then fell back to his knees again.

Jeer was just as slow getting back up. Arthur sprinted forward. "Come on!" he yelled. He pulled Merlin's left arm across his shoulders to take some of his weight. He saw then that Merlin was bleeding from his right side just below his ribs. At some point Jeer got in a blow. "Let's go," Arthur shouted. Pulling Merlin along, Arthur raced down the southern tunnel with the remainder of the knights and guards of Camelot, and the slaves.

"Arthur," Merlin gasped, "I don't know if – I can't…"

"Keep going!"

The corridor went left, right, then left again. It narrowed and then became extra wide. It opened above a plain in the White Mountains. Arthur saw his knights' uniforms ahead, saw the gold dragon of the Camelot crest. Right when they reached the mouth of the cave they heard a familiar voice yell. Magic flung Merlin and Arthur forward. They rolled, head over heels, out of the cave and down a short hill. They landed on their backs, Merlin facing the cave and Arthur facing the opposite. Arthur looked over his shoulder and saw Merlin raise his hands. Before Jeer made it out of the cave, the mouth closed. Arthur thought he screamed "Emrys!" Every inch of the cave entrance folded in on itself. Whether dead, buried or blocked, Jeer was no longer a threat.

Arthur rolled onto his stomach, reached over and clasped Merlin's arm. "Merlin?"

Merlin hugged his wounds, flinched, blinked rapidly. "This is yours," he said to Arthur. He took a silver object out of his pocket. Gratitude replaced Arthur's anxiety. He put the ring on and flexed his fingers. "Arthur…" Merlin gasped, his head falling back onto the grass, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Arthur laughed deep in his stomach. "Let me guess: you're a sorcerer?"

Merlin grinned. And passed out.


Merlin kept his eyes shut and just enjoyed Gaius and Arthur's voices. He wasn't in Jeer's cell. He wasn't in the Camelot dungeon. He was home in his own bed, and they were fussing over him. Gaius told Arthur to pass him a bowl and two jars. Merlin heard chopping, clanging and Gaius whispering spells. The scent of burning herbs filled the physician's chambers.

"How long until our Court Sorcerer is on his feet?"

"A day. Is that what you've decided to call him?"

"Gwen's idea. What do you need next?"

"Nothing. I just have to stay up with him tonight and change the bandages every hour. The spells draw out the dark magic and the herbs heal."

"I'll stay. I'll stay up with him." After a brief argument, Gaius agreed and left the room. Merlin heard Arthur sigh and sit down at his bedside. "I know you're awake."

Merlin smiled. "Court Sorcerer?"

"Like it?"

"Nice ring to it. So you're not going to behead me?"

"No."

"Hang me?"

"No."

"Burn me at the stake?"

"Merlin, I'm not going to let anybody kill you."

"Do you forgive me?" Merlin asked. "For keeping the secret. For lying all of these years."

"Merlin." Arthur rubbed his eyes. "There's nothing to forgive. But, when you're better, we do need to have a long talk."

"I prefer that to burning alive." They shared a laugh. When Merlin grew tired again he also grew nostalgic. "I'm glad you're alive," he whispered to Arthur.

Arthur smiled. "Gwaine told me that the earthquake struck right when you found out I was dead. I heard you… scream, too. It was you, wasn't it? You caused that quake."

"Not on purpose. I lost control for a moment." Merlin looked embarrassed. "I was… upset."

"I thought you were dead," Arthur reminded him. "I saw the boulders fall and…" He sighed and scratched the back of his head. He looked everywhere but directly at Merlin. "I didn't cause an earthquake but if I had an ounce of magic in me, I probably would have."

"Really?" Merlin asked.

"Undoubtedly."

The End