Chapter 18

"No!"

Arthur sank to his knees, staring in shock at Merlin's lifeless body. It couldn't be. He couldn't be‒

"Arthur."

He whirled around. "You." he hissed. Automatically, his hand jumped to his hip, before he remembered his sword was still on the table.

Anhora raised a hand warningly. "Do not do something you will regret, young prince."

"The only thing I regret is not killing you when I had the chance," spat Arthur. His hands shook, and he fought to contain the warring grief and rage coursing through his body.

"I thought you'd learned your lesson regarding needless bloodshed," said the sorcerer evenly. "What would killing me have accomplished, Arthur Pendragon?"

"Merlin would still be alive!" he shouted. "He died because of me!"

"Your friend made his own choice," said Anhora calmly. "He did not need to drink the poison."

Arthur laughed bitterly. "Shows how much you know him," he said scathingly. "Of course he had to drink it. You know why? Because he's a stupid, self sacrificing idiot!" His voice broke on the last word. He blinked hard to push back the wetness gathering at the corners of his eyes.

He'd have to tell Gaius. And Hunith. Merlin's mother had to know. Could she even afford a gravestone? Well, she needn't worry about that, at least. He'd pay for it, of course. He owed that much to her. And to Merlin.

Even now, with Merlin gone, he had to admit that the boy had been a poor excuse for a servant. He was clumsy and awkward, constantly knocking into things. He was rude and often spoke out of turn, conversing with Arthur as an equal, rather than as a servant to his master.

Yes, Merlin had indeed been a poor excuse for a servant. But he'd done a good job being a friend. And that was what Arthur had needed.

"I never told him," Arthur whispered. "I never said thank you. I never told him how much he meant to me. And now it's too late."

How could he have been so arrogant? So stupid? How could he have been such a...such a prat?

Then the old man spoke up. "He is not dead."

He stilled. "What?" he said slowly, not sure he'd heard correctly.

"He is not dead," repeated Anhora. "The goblet contained a harmless sleeping draft. He will wake shortly."

Hardly daring to believe it, Arthur tentatively lifted Merlin's arm and lightly pressed two fingers to his inner wrist. A steady pulse beat there. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as he finally noticed the shallow rise and fall of Merlin's chest.

He was alive….

"I don't understand." he whispered. He glanced up at the old man, bewildered. "I failed the test. He should be dead."

Anhora chuckled. "You did not fail, Arthur. I told you before; Merlin was part of your test."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Can you explain it in terms I might understand?"

"A unicorn is pure of heart. To slay one, or even deign to do so, is a terrible thing. If you do so, you must make amends by proving yourself pure of heart. Your character, Arthur Pendragon, was therefore called into question."

"The tests."

"Indeed," said Anhora, inclining his head.

"How did Merlin drinking the liquid prove what was in my heart?" demanded Arthur. He was growing weary of the old man's tiresome riddles. "I didn't even do anything."

"You were never meant to drink from the cup," said Anhora patiently.

"But‒"

"It is often those closest to us who know what is truly our hearts, sometimes better than we know ourselves." said Anhora. "You and Merlin share a bond closer than you know, young prince. It is a rare thing, not to be taken lightly. His willingness to sacrifice his life for your own displays not only what is in his heart, but in yours."

"And what's that?" he said curiously.

The old man smiled. "For Merlin to give up his life to keep you alive is a testament to his belief that you are needed by your people. That contained within you is the potential to one day become the great king Camelot deserves."

Feeling rather tongue tied, Arthur nodded, but said nothing.

Anhora glanced down at Merlin. "The curse is lifted. His fever and illness will have left him, and his wounds will now heal. He may need some days to recuperate, but he is no longer in danger."

"There's something I still don't understand," said Arthur.

Anhora raised an eyebrow. Arthur took this as an invitation to speak.

"When I failed the second test," he began, "You said Camelot would be doomed. I thought you meant the drought would return, and that the famine would spread. Instead, Merlin fell ill." He looked at Anhora. "How does Merlin dying mean the end of Camelot?"

Anhora chuckled softly. "You underestimate the people around you, Arthur Pendragon," he said, as Merlin began to stir. "Station is a thing of circumstance, yet it blinds the eyes of men to the truth. You owe him a great deal. One day, you will learn just how much."

Before Arthur could blink, the old man had disappeared, for what he somehow knew was the final time.

"So I was meant to drink from the cup all along?"

Merlin had recovered quickly from the sleeping draught. With the curse lifted, he was strong enough to ride back to Camelot...and aware enough to pepper Arthur with questions the whole way.

Arthur sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time. "Yes."

Merlin stroked his chin thoughtfully, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "If I drank from the cup…that means I'm the one who really saved Camelot, doesn't it?"

"Well…"

Merlin grinned. "I'd say that deserves some kind of reward, wouldn't you?"

"Absolutely not," said Arthur flatly.

"At least a day off!" pressed Merlin. "Come on, I've earned it, haven't I?"

"The only thing you've earned is a kick in the backside," grumbled Arthur. "And I have a good mind to give it to you." He urged his mare forward, brushing a large branch aside as he rode.

Merlin stared at him. "What did I do?" he asked, looking slightly hurt.

"You drank from the cup when I specifically told you not to!"

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that, Merlin." Arthur mimicked. "That. The utterly insignificant fact that you have absolutely no sense of self preservation. No sense whatsoever."

Merlin shrugged. "It's probably because of that mental affliction I have," he said lightly.

"Gaius told my father you were getting that looked into."

"I did," Merlin assured him. "Gaius gave me a thorough exam."

"Oh, really?" said Arthur, raising his eyebrow. "And what was his professional diagnosis?"

"Idiocy."

Despite himself, Arthur's lips quirked up. "No cure, then, is there?"

"I'm afraid not," said Merlin, shaking his head sorrowfully. "But there's no cure for being a prat either, you know. So I reckon we're both on equal footing."

Arthur shook his head, half exasperated, half amused. He knew when he was beaten.

The two of them continued on through the woods, exchanging their usual jibes.

As evening fell around them, Arthur and Merlin rode through a very familiar clearing.

It was hard to believe so much had happened since that fateful moment Arthur aimed his crossbow.

A sudden rustling in the undergrowth shook Arthur back to the present moment.

What threat was next? Bandits? Wild boars? At that point, he wouldn't have been surprised if a dragon decided to show up and cause trouble. The two of them did have all the luck, after all.

Motioning for Merlin to keep behind him, Arthur led his horse toward the source of the disturbance. Before he could stop him, Merlin had brought his horse alongside Arthur again.

"You never do as you're told, do you?" Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes.

Merlin smiled sheepishly. Side by side, they waited.

The leaves parted.

"Arthur," breathed Merlin, wide eyed. "Look."

Arthur stared in awe as the unicorn stepped into the clearing.

Its coat was a pure white. Poking through its silvery mane was a delicate spiraled horn.

Instantly, Arthur felt awash in shame. How could he have ever considered killing such a creature?

He looked into the unicorn's dark eyes, which were gazing trustingly back at him. They looked strangely human.

"I'm sorry I tried to hurt you," he murmured. "I was wrong. I see that now."

The unicorn bowed its head, as though it understood his words. Perhaps it did.

They watched silently as the unicorn walked slowly through the clearing, turning to look at them one last time before disappearing into a cluster of trees.

Arthur was quiet for a long time. "Come on," he said at last. "It's time to go home."

Gaius was pleased to see Merlin restored to health. He wasn't pleased enough, however, to forget what Merlin had done to him in order to follow Arthur.

"I said I was sorry!" Merlin protested, as Gaius uncorked a medicine vial. "Do I really need to drink that?"

Gaius gave him a look.

"Fine," Merlin sighed, taking the vial. He eyed it warily. The liquid within closely resembled the water in Camelot's moat after last month's outbreak of stomach flu. He gagged as he caught a whiff of the pungent brew. "This isn't the sleeping draught you gave me before." he said accusingly.

"It is," Gaius assured him. "However, I may have added several ingredients," he added, a wicked gleam in his eye. "For flavor, you know."

Arthur hastily smothered his laugh into a cough.

Merlin scowled. "I'm sure," he muttered, looking queasy.

Arthur chuckled. "Merlin, how is it that you're able to run headfirst into danger, and jump unarmed into battle without a second thought, but you aren't able to drink a stupid potion?"

"You haven't tasted it," said Merlin darkly. "I'd take death over one of Gaius's potions any day."

He glanced hopefully at Gaius. "Any chance you'll change your mind?"

Gaius crossed his arms. "Drink up."

Taking a deep breath, Merlin pinched his nostrils shut with one hand, then tossed the contents of the medicine bottle into his mouth.

As the taste hit, Merlin's face turned green. He swallowed as quickly as he could.

"How was it?" asked Gaius innocently. Merlin glared at him, but couldn't answer right away, as he was busy using the blanket to scrape his tongue clean of the draught's flavor.

"Positively foul," he choked out once he'd finished wiping his mouth. "You've surpassed yourself, Gaius."

"Perhaps you'll rethink drugging me in the future." said Gaius severely.

Merlin's grimace turned into a jaw cracking yawn as the potion began to take effect. "I'll definitely take it under consideration," he mumbled sleepily.

Arthur grinned and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then."

"Oh, yeah," slurred Merlin. "Bright and early."

His eyes drooped shut.

Sneaking a peek behind him to make sure Gaius wasn't watching, Arthur reached our and ruffled Merlin's shock of dark hair. "Sleep well, Merlin," he said quietly.

Making his way to the door, he glanced around one final time at his slumbering servant.

Anhora's words echoed in his ears. "You owe him a great deal, Arthur Pendragon. One day, you will learn just how much."

The End

Wow, you guys! Can't believe we're at the end of another fic! Thanks so much to every single one of you, for your favorites, follows, and reviews. They really kept me going. A lot of you were really on point with guessing what was happening next, and the feedback and reactions were so entertaining!

Some of your feedback even inspired different events in the story, like DarkMousyRulezAll, who wondered if the unicorn would make an appearance again. Thanks, Mousy!

Some of you might have started reading my new fic, Hollow, which I began writing while working on To Slay A Unicorn. I (hopefully) will be updating it more frequently now that this story is complete. Warning: It takes place in 5x08, so major spoilers! Don't read if you're not up to date!

I'd really like to see what you guys though of the ending. Leave your comments below!

Love you all, and thanks for sticking around!