A/N: I got so caught up in the moment I forgot something I was going to do last chapter :/ Oh well.
Getting so close to the end now... I am excited for the future :)

Warning: the violent death continues in this chapter- even more so, really

For all of you wondering what happened to Hunith and Jon, I'll tell you- in the sequel.
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


Arthur struggled against his magical restraints, eyes never leaving Merlin's frozen visage even as the warlock's arms went limp and the body slid to the ground. The referee gave a cursory glance to the corpse before declaring Emrys the winner. The prince stumbled as the spell holding him was released, then charged across the ring to grab his brother's shoulders.

"Merlin," his voice was low but urgent, "Merlin, look at me!" The pallid face in front of him had fallen lax, eyes unseeing. Somehow it was even more unsettling than when the man had almost died.

The official was still speaking, explaining that both teams would be allowed to fight unbound. Neither man noticed.

"Merlin, you- you're beginning to frighten me." The admission came easily in the throes of his panic when the younger man remained unresponsive despite being shaken and slapped.

"Fight!"

The warrior's head jerked up at the command, seeing two familiar faces on the other side of the ring. Wasn't the final round supposed to be held tomorrow? No time for that now. Arthur took up a protective stance in front of Merlin, sword drawn and eyes darting back and forth between their bearded enemy and his partner. The sorcerer looked as if he had no intention of fighting, instead hunching over and resting his hands against his knees. Keeping the magic-worker in his peripheral vision, the knight engaged the more violent partner. Sparks flew as the blades met. So I'm not the only one with an enchanted blade, then.

They had only exchanged a few blows when it became clear that Arthur was the more skilled. That didn't stop the other man from hurling insults and taunts as he was beaten back- most of them directed to Merlin who hadn't so much as twitched.

"Whazzis? No' so brave now, are ya runt?"

Arthur scowled, flicking a glance backward and giving the other man an opening. Orange flames leapt from his adversary's sword as it impacted with the prince's chest. The heat was uncomfortable but Arthur found he felt nothing else as the blade was turned aside, now notched and slightly blackened. The bearded man's face was thunderous.

"So tha's it then? Ya think yer magic'll protect 'im? Well I-" His words ceased abruptly as he was yanked from his feet and skidded across the flagstones to stop at the edge of the stage. Arthur looked on with confusion as the opposing sorcerer lowered his arm and panted a bit, grey hair sweat-soaked and countenance distressed.

"Please, he's been making me fight. I didn't want to- can... can you help me?"

The blond was conflicted, shifting his gaze back to Merlin once more. The warlock was still as a statue, the only difference from when the match had begun being his closed eyes. "Emrys?" He asked tentatively. No reaction; but then, he hadn't really expected one.

Arthur tried to set aside his worry in favor of the current conundrum- one that soon solved itself when he turned back only to find the sorcerer pressing a needle-thin dagger to his side. He'd heard of such things before- they were designed to slip in between the rings of chain mail and required only the barest amount of force to use. A Lady's weapon. If the situation hadn't been so dire he would have mocked the man. Then again, he'd likely die regardless so why not?

"Honestly? You had to use treachery to gain the advantage and now you intend to kill me with that dainty blade? I'm not sure which one of us should be more embarrassed."

The older man's face had just begun to twist unpleasantly when a rush of air smashed him against the stone floor. Arthur whirled to see Merlin, eyes ablaze, walking forward as if in a dream.

"You will not harm him," his voice was deep and echoed with power.

"Curse you, Emrys," the sorcerer snarled, struggling but failing to rise. "I've heard of you- what you're supposed to do," he spat, the wad of saliva falling just short of Merlin's new boots. "Well we can all see how well you've done, eh? Might as well kill us all yourself for all the-"

"Níðcwealm."

The cold authority of that voice shook Arthur to his core, even before the sorcerer began shrieking as blood burst from his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. He watched in horrified fascination as the man writhed for a moment before Merlin raised his arm once more.

"Forgrindest."

Before he could so much as shout the sorcerer exploded into dust, fine particles swept away in the breeze to leave no trace of the person who had been.

"Merlin?" Arthur extended a shaky hand, hesitant to approach this glowing creature of death.

At the sound of his name the warlock gasped, gold fading to tortured blue as he fell forward. Arthur lunged to catch him, holding the man who now seemed so small as sobs wracked his thin frame.

"The match is not yet over," the official stated, tapping his foot with impatience and gesturing toward the incapacitated swordsman.

"I won't kill him," Merlin whispered, tears flowing down his face.

"You don't have to," Arthur assured him.

"The match will not end until either he dies or you do," their referee supplied unnecessarily.

The royal growled, then apologized softly as he rose to his feet. "I'll be back soon."

The servant nodded, swiping at his eyes with little effect.

Face grim, Arthur drew his sword and positioned it at his unconscious enemy's neck. This went against the Knight's Code, against his own honor- but this was for Merlin.

"Rest in peace," he murmured, pushing the blade through and withdrawing it swiftly. He spared only the barest moment to clean the metal before shoving it back through his belt and returning to his brother's side, pulling the man upright and supporting him.

"Come on, let's get out of here."