Gwaine shifted nervously on his horse, making the animal prance. "It's too soon," he growled again for the hundredth time that morning, making Leon roll his eyes.

"It's a two day ride to Camelot. Longer, if we take it slow for his sake. He has to build up to that. He can't do that in bed," the older knight argued back. "And Merlin wants to go home."

"Then Arthur should at least be taking one, if not both of us." For that, Leon had no argument since he agreed. He'd not been surprised when Arthur announced their intention for a short ride, nor when he explained the reasons behind it. He had, however, been shocked to his core to discover the King intended just himself and Merlin to go.

There was no doubt at least a few from the attack had survived. They could still be out there. But Arthur was adamant, insistent that where they were going was perfectly safe. He wouldn't say more, and Leon being who he was, had not pressed it. Gwaine, however, offered no such courtesy as the two men being discussed emerged from the house.

It always made Leon's heart soften a little to see the proud King Arthur being so solicitous to his servant. Merlin's recovery was slow but steady. The pain from the burns kept him a little weakened, and Gwaine had confessed he was worried the dark circles beneath the boys' eyes meant he wasn't sleeping. But his mood, his cheerful disposition had returned to almost normal. It was almost easy to forget what he had recently been through, at times, if not for how quickly he seemed to tire.

"Arthur, are you sure-" Gwaine started again, surprised when it was Merlin who interrupted him.

"Thank you, Gwaine. But we'll be fine. I promise you both, no harm will come to either of us on this foray," he assured, fully confident.

Gwaine wanted to believe him. He had seen, after all, just what Merlin was capable of. He had, however, noticed a rather distinctive lack of magic since the boys' return from death. If that was what they were relying on, it didn't set him any easier.

He glanced at Arthur, saw a look in his eye that just dared him to contradict Merlin, to nay say something he was obviously confident in. He looked away first. He couldn't, of course. There weren't too many who could deny Merlin anything the boy truly wanted.

"If you're not back in two hours," he grumbled instead, "we will come looking for you."

Merlin smiled and nodded, accepting the compromise to the rogue's pride, and accepted Leon's help getting onto his horse. Gwaine sighed. He had been given a task, so he might as well get to it. He wheeled his horse, heeling it forward. His journey would take considerably longer than two hours, but Merlin didn't know that, and he didn't doubt Leon would take up his threat if they failed to return.

MERLIN1010 MERLIN101010101010101010101010101010

Arthur watched his friend carefully, making mental notes of the winces and grimaces. He didn't suggest they turn back, though. While he mostly agreed with Gwaine that it was too soon, Merlin had begged for this. Even going so far to as to finally confess the Dragon had been calling him for days. Arthur had felt a small thrill as Merlin confessed his connection with the Dragon, told him how it had been released, of the guilt he bore because of his responsibility to the Dragon- last of his kind- as a Dragon lord. However angry he'd been, Kilgharrah had had his right to seek revenge. He shook off the thought. That was in the past. One of the events he had known was coming, but had been unable to change. No choice he had made could undo what Uther had done.

A quiet moan from the warlock made him focus again on the path, and he slowed their pace slightly more until it smoothed out flat again.

Determination would see the young warlock to their destination, a clearing about a half an hour ride outside the village. Arthur wasn't as convinced he would make the journey back with equal ease. For almost two weeks now they'd been set up in Ealdor. Long enough that Gwen had sent her brother back with letters, and wondering if Arthur wanted a larger escort to return home. Mostly, though, she had been asking about Merlin. She had assured him that things in Camelot were fine, if a little tense, and that they must take all the time they needed.

While he knew she had never truly been comfortable with being made Queen Regent, he appreciated that her sense of duty was keen. As was her love for Camelot. She had accepted only with the understanding of it being a temporary role. But she wasn't rushing him back. Never suggested Merlin could heal and return when he was ready. The opposite, in fact. Her letter had been full of love for both of them, as well as her usual keen insight.

Gaius's letter was warm, but slightly impatient. Mostly a checklist of all the things they should be doing to speed Merlin's recovery. It had made Merlin smile, which Arthur enjoyed seeing.

They reached the clearing in good time- only a little later than the half hour they'd originally thought. Arthur had no doubts Gwaine's timeline would be obeyed to the second, even if he, himself, wasn't able to see it through.

There, Arthur got his first good, close up look at the great dragon. Kilgharrah was as impressive sitting quietly in an open field as he was in the skies blasting fire. Dismounting from his horse, he moved immediately to help Merlin down. The Dragon watched them impassively, eyes narrowing at Merlin in particular.

"It is good to see you, young Warlock."

"And you, Old Friend," Merlin replied happily. He was happy. Not only to be seeing his long time friend and sometimes mentor, but also to be able to share this with Arthur, to no longer have to keep it secret. The smile that split his face hurt his cheeks, and he didn't care.

The Dragon inclined his head toward Arthur. "King Arthur. I was pleased to see my message was heard."

Arthur returned the slight bow. "Thank you, for reminding me I already had the tools I needed to save him." He left it at that, certain somehow that the Dragon could sense just how much carried behind those simple words.

Kilgharrah turned back toward the Warlock, lowering his head to get a closer look at him, his eyes slitting. "Something troubles you still, Merlin. Your wounds should be healing by now, your magic recovering."

Arthur frowned. The Healer had told him that Merlin was making good progress. That delays, given the infection, were to be expected. The dark circles were concerning, but Armand had explained that too, saying it was Merlin's lack of routine creating them.

He watched as Merlin's hand fluttered toward his chest instinctively, before falling away. "Most of my injuries have healed. The infection so soon after the battle- my magic gave a lot."

"Merlin, you are lying to me. You are a Dragon lord. I can sense something is wrong, something beyond the injuries." The Dragon glanced peevishly over at the King. "What is it you do not wish him to hear?"

Merlin shook his head, getting ready to issue a denial, but Kilgharrah roared in frustration. As if in response, the skies finally let loose the rain they had been threatening for most of the morning. None in the clearing paid it any heed.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, puzzled. He'd thought they were beyond lies. He wanted to believe his friend, but the Dragon was too angry. And, he'd admit, there were things about Merlin's slow recovery that didn't quite fall into place. His strength wasn't returning as quickly as it should, for one. Merlin frequently seemed to weaken swiftly after very little exertion. "Merlin, please, you know I can't… not after…"

Sighing, Merlin glared up at the Dragon. "Before I put up the shield, I healed Arthur. It took a lot."

Arthur nodded, encouraging him to continue. "Leon told me it was a mortal wound."

Merlin blinked back tears as he remembered his failure. "I had already fought so many to get to you. The blade damaged your heart, Arthur. By the time I got there, my healing wasn't enough. I couldn't fix it all."

The Dragon shook his head, understanding. "Merlin, you should not have."

Arthur looked between the two, confused. "What did you do?"

Merlin looked apologetically at Arthur, wishing with all his heart not to tell him this. "I couldn't fix it, Arthur, but I could… absorb it. Take it on myself." Arthur closed his eyes, shaking his head in denial, beginning to understand. Merlin hurried to continue. "My strength isn't coming back because that piece I took from you, it's not healing like it should. My magic has been protecting me as best it can from it, trying to heal it. I thought, maybe, with time, it would heal like the rest of my injuries," Merlin explained. "But everyday, I feel it a little more. The burns are taking too long to heal."

Arthur stumbled back a step. Memories of knowledge of a sword shard slowly making its way to his heart assaulted him. The fear. The ultimate result. After everything, Merlin could still die. Hiding every day that he was getting worse even as he got better. He shook his head, anger rising, heart breaking at the same time. "Why would you not tell me?" he demanded harshly. To let him believe all would be well, given enough time- it was a cruelty he hadn't considered Merlin capable of.

Merlin took a step forward. "Arthur, I truly thought it would heal on its own, like everything else. That it would be just another scar. It was so small, the hurt I took from you. I only took it because I wanted to be absolutely sure. But I- I did too much, after, and it got worse. I didn't know. The pain- the burns hid a lot."

Arthur looked at the Dragon. He wanted to ask. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to ask. But there was an expression of... caution?... on the Dragon's face. He remembered their last encounter. Kilgharrah had forgiven his anger, but he was still bound. Arthur understood. If he asked, the Dragon would be forced to say no. Merlin had to be the one to ask, and it was clear he had not even considered it.

The Dragon nodded at him. Arthur took it as confirmation. Somehow, he had to get Merlin to ask. Arthur wasn't a wordsmith. He didn't know how to bandy about a subject, or play with wit. Whatever he said, he knew it would end up denying Merlin this one chance. Already he had endangered it by being there. Had he not been, he was sure the Dragon would have already healed it. Not for the first time, he regretted the threats he'd made. This is where words got him.

Determination settled on him. No. Not a man of words. But he was a man of action, he decided. Striding forward angrily, he grabbed Merlin's face and kissed him. There was no fear, this time, no grief, no overpowering emotion. For this kiss, there was only love, the sharing of their connection, their bond. This was everything they had ever been, would ever be. He felt Merlin hesitate only a moment, then respond in kind.

"Does this mean nothing to you?" he demanded harshly, angrily. Merlin blinked, the tone so at odds with everything he had felt conveyed in the kiss. "Will you not consider those you've given hope to, knowing you'll leave them again?" He kissed the servant again, savagely. "Why wouldn't you tell me? I could have done something," Arthur whispered, this time in agony. He kissed him again, letting his sorrow through. "This means something to me, Merlin. I can't lose it, not now that I've finally got it."

Merlin drew back, shaking in the chill of the rain, reeling with the revelation. He'd given when asked, and he had given with his whole heart. Even knowing it would lead only to heartbreak for him, he'd allowed these few moments. But there were limits to how much of his heart he would sacrifice. "It means everything, Arthur. All of it," he replied, then he stepped purposely back, out of Arthur's arms. "And I would rather die than lose it."

Arthur frowned. "I'm right here, Merlin. You've got me," he pleaded, spreading his arms open, exposing himself. "It's not easy for either of us, I know, but I'm here. Make this leap with me!"

"Gwen." Even as he uttered it, Merlin sank onto his knees, wrapping his arms around himself, the picture of misery kneeling in the heavy rain. He wouldn't trade a single moment of the past two weeks with Arthur, not for a thousand years of what he now knew would be an empty life. What they shared, it went so much deeper. There was no word to describe it. There was no label to call it. It was heaven. And it was its own special Hell. "Do you think I'm so blind that I could believe so strongly in our destiny, in the Albion we will build, and not sense her part in it all? To give it all, and lose everything. I'm not strong enough," he whispered miserably. "Not for that."

Everything came into clear focus for Arthur. The hesitancy, the flinch at her name. Merlin only ever responding directly to his need, whether expressed or not, but never seeking for himself. Arthur felt like an fool. Merlin was a being born of the very essence of magic. And it had been Magic that had shown him those paths, offered that choice. How could he not have considered Merlin would sense even a part of it? In two timelines, he had loved Gwen. In one, he'd been brave enough to marry her. In the other, he'd lacked the courage to raise a servant, had kept his love secret. Merlin didn't know the details, but somehow, he could feel it. Feel something that should have been between him and their friend. Something that would shape an empire. 'Fate may still influence the future'- the warning came back to him.

Glancing at the Dragon, who waited patiently, and watched with sympathy, he knelt in front of his friend, not caring about how sodden he was, or the puddle in the grass his knees sank into. He ignored the little shivers that wracked the thin frame. He had this one chance to make himself very clear. He took a deep breath. Words again.

"Merlin, I told you recently about a choice I was once given. I barely had a glimmer then, of what could be between us. But I made a choice to nurture it, to see where it could lead. Two answers I was given, and yes, Gwen was a part of both. She was always destined to be Queen."

Merlin shook his head, tears mixing with rain. "And I love her, Arthur. She is my friend, and a sister to me. I could not- I would never- you don't know how much she loves you." His voice was enough to break Arthur's heart. It was guilt laden and utterly shattered. "And I love you too much to take that from you."

Arthur put out his hand and used Merlin's chin to force the young man to look at him. "I do know, Merlin. By all the gods, I swear, I would never hurt her. Not like that. She knows we were never going to be together. I have not mislead her. I made her Queen in understanding her part to play. When Lancelot died, it was clear to me what had to be done to make that destiny happen. Fate, Merlin, is not so cut and dry as the gods would have us believe. I made sure, even then, that the path for you and I remained open."

"But- we- the-" They had never actually spoken about the kiss- the first or the second. Merlin had understood it to be a physical connection, so Arthur could put the events of the attack behind him. His King had needed to know he was real. So he had tucked away the hurt it would cause his heart, and given in. He'd give- and had given- his life for Arthur. What was a reassuring kiss or two- and the pieces of his soul they destroyed?

"I chose you a very long time ago," Arthur said firmly, with all the conviction he could put into his voice. "I chose all you and I could not only accomplish together, but to believe in the friendship we would have. To believe in what it could someday be. I am sorry, Merlin, that while I was brave enough to make that choice then, it wasn't until I had lost you that I finally made that last leap of courage."

Arthur made Merlin meet his eyes again, and once again kissed him, tasting the cool rain. He smiled into it, coaxing a still shocked Merlin into responding to him. "It's okay, Merlin, to want this," he whispered. His grin against the other's mouth widened when the young man finally did. Finally accepted that this was good, this was welcomed, and that he was not causing pain to anyone. When Merlin finally let go.

For a few moments, Arthur let himself be selfish, let himself indulge in having Merlin an equal in this for the first time, in taking as much as he gave. It thrilled him, lit fires in him he hadn't known existed. The little moan that escaped from Merlin made him shiver. He felt his own need- shift- to something else, but he pushed it back. He could have stayed like this forever and been content. But their forever was still threatened.

Pulling reluctantly away, Arthur asked again. "Does this mean nothing to you?" this time it was gentle, encouraging. "I don't know where this may lead us," he confessed softly, but determined to make sure Merlin heard him. "I only know that I am absolutely yours in mind, body and soul. I need you, Merlin. I need this, for everything it is and may be. And I know that I cannot bear a life without you."

Merlin could read every expression on Arthur's face. He would know a lie. He would know the slightest hesitation. The King nodded, hiding nothing from him. Every word he spoke, he truly believed. He was willing to admit he needed this, and more- he wanted it. He was done running from it. His eyes begged Merlin to meet him halfway. To give them a chance to explore this new sense of their old connection. But Merlin had to do his part. Had to be here, with Arthur, to see it through. The King glanced at the Dragon behind him, then returned his eyes to Merlin's. And then he realized what it was Arthur wanted him to do. He had to choose. Arthur had made his choice. Now it was Merlin's turn.

Merlin wiped his eyes, blushing as he turned to the Dragon. "Is there anything you can do, Kilgharrah? Any help you can give?"

The Dragon seemed to smile. "Of course, young Warlock. There is much damage. You must understand, this will take much from you." Merlin nodded, accepting. Healing was tricky- and usually not pleasant as it forced the body to do something rather quickly. Always before he'd been unconscious. He bristled indignantly when Kilgharrah turned to Arthur. "Hold him, Pendragon. This will not be pleasant."

The healing spell burned through his veins, and he couldn't stop the scream of agony that was ripped from him as everything inside him seemed to shift. Liquid fire rushed through him. Stop, he begged, as the fire grew hotter. He was being consumed from the inside. His magic rose in defense, trying to cool him, but it, too, was greatly weakened. Stop, he begged again mentally. The fire did not stop, but it did offer him the mercy of oblivion. He accepted, gratefully.

Arthur flinched when the young man screamed, but held on tightly as the young man tried to arch away from him. He was unprepared for Merlin's sudden dead weight against him, and panic rose quickly. Easing him to the wet ground, he quickly checked for breath. Bowing his head, he took in a ragged breath of his own when he felt it. Fingers at Merlin's pulse confirmed the boy was alive. If anything, the pulse was stronger than it had been for almost a week. He hugged the warlock closer to him in relief.

He looked up at the Dragon. "Would it be breaking your bond with Magic if I said thank you?"

Kilgharrah chuckled. "It would not. Take heed, Arthur. Love was destined between you, and used to bind you together, but it is humanity that defines it, and human failings that can destroy it. You have taken many chances in bending Destiny and Fate to your will. There may be consequences."

Arthur nodded seriously. "I know. As I did then. As I have, every time I've changed something. Every time I've had to sit back and be a puppet in what I knew I could not."

"If you were given the same choice today, would you still pay such a price?"

Arthur smiled gently, brushing Merlin's sodden bangs from his eyes. "For him? A hundred times, yes, I would decide the same."

"Very good, Arthur. I am proud of you. He will need your strength of conviction in the challenges ahead. The young Warlock will be very weak for a few days more. My spell was not kind, but it was effective. Let him rest this night, but on the morrow you should make for Camelot. While uncomfortable, the ride will not endanger him and the Witch has not been idle."

"Morgana."

"You both must be ready to face her, and there is much to be settled between you before your bond is at its strongest. Her hatred, on the other hand, is a deadly weapon she hones daily."