I'm so excited—just one more chapter, and then we're done! I think there'll be an epilogue, too, but you can expect that to be short. This is by far my most well-received story, and I haven't decided if that's more because my writing is a lot better than it was however many years ago, because it's in the Merlin fandom, or because it's actually a good story. Perhaps it is some kind of combination of all three. I hope you all think it's a good story. This is also my most-viewed story, and perhaps that is because it actually has some length to it and has regular updates. Ah, the mysteries of life. Anyway, less talk, more action!

Fog had rolled in during the night, accompanied by a light drizzle that morning. It created a melancholy mood which Uther supposed was fitting for his quest. So far, there had been no sign of the sorcerer or serving-boy—Merlin, that is. He still had close to two days to find him, though, and a few locations left on his list, so the king was not too worried yet.

The fog thickened as Uther traveled, making it rather difficult to see and forcing him to move more slowly. Eventually, he dismounted and walked beside his horse. He was sure the beast could not see much better than he could, so, if it were to stumble, there was no point in the both of them going down. Water continued to fall from the sky, drops massive but intermittent. A search would be pretty much fruitless in this weather, but so would most other activities, so he pressed on anyway. He hoped that if he did happen to stumble upon the sorcerer, they would not allow him to pass by without making a scene.

Even in the fog, the king's sense of direction was intact, and he was fairly certain that he was headed in the right direction for the next location he needed to check. He did eventually arrive, which pleased him. However, he was frustrated that the infernal fog refused to lift. He knew that the sun was up but figured it must have been covered by the rainclouds. Nothing caught his attention, so he continued to the next location; he had been over the distances and directions between places enough times that he hardly needed to see in order to know the way at this point.

It had to be high noon by the time he approached another lake, and it was at this time that the fog began to thin out. It was still difficult to see, but Uther was happy with the change nonetheless. He looked out across the small lake, over which the fog was mysteriously absent. Suddenly, something twitched, directing his attention to a little island that he guessed was almost close enough to the far shore, which was only about a quarter of a mile away from his position, to be attached to it. On the island stood a half-bare tree and two human figures.

"Uther!" came the sorcerer's now all-too-familiar voice, "I wondered if you would show up for this one, seeing as you've already rescued your ward. I'm happy you're here to meet the final round of our little game."

While the mage spoke, Uther mounted his horse and trotted closer to the island. As he approached, he realized that only one of the human figures was standing on land, and it was the magician. The other figure, which had to be Merlin, was hanging upside-down from a branch of the tree several feet out from the island. The tips of his shaggy dark hairs were brushing the water below him. A long, thick rope bound his arms to his sides and snaked several times around his right leg before leading into the tree branches. The king's heart skipped a beat when he came close enough to realize that the boy was not only considerably thinner than the last time he had seen him- which he had originally thought impossible- but he was also unconscious. All the other victims had been awake for their rescues. This change was odd and unwelcome.

"Why is he unconscious?" Uther demanded.

The sorcerer glanced at Uther before turning to Merlin, and, although they were glaring at him, their answer came out almost like a purr, "This one is a troublemaker. Kept trying to escape while my back was turned. Now that you're here, though, I suppose we needn't worry about that anymore, hm?"

When the magician snapped their fingers, Uther realized that the rope binding Merlin was also attached to some sort of pulley system which had just been activated. The boy's head was lowered into the lake water, and it only took a moment for his body to begin squirming, his free leg kicking frantically. Uther figured that he was probably not unconscious anymore. However, he was hardly seeing the innocent serving boy—rather, he was remembering the thrashing bodies of druid youth from so many years ago, some of which he had held under the water himself.

The king, with all his training and promises, could only sit and watch in shocked silence until the sorcerer snapped again, bringing the boy back above the surface to allow him to cough and splutter. Uther shook himself out of his stupor, dismounting and drawing his sword.

"Release him," he growled.

The mage barked a laugh, "We've come full circle, Uther!" then, all traces of amusement vanished from the magician's face, replaced by a challenge and determination and maybe a bit of an evil smirk, "Rescue him."

Uther had no time to react, no time to think. The magician snapped their fingers again and Merlin was plunged back underneath the lake's surface, this time up to his elbows, before he could even fully stifle his coughs. The king ran forward, hoping that the water between where he stood and the island's shore was not too deep for him to make a proper dash. Moving his legs through the water took longer than he would have liked, but at least the water level was below his hips.

The king made it onto the island and tried not to notice that Merlin's body had gone limp. His gait returned to as much of a run as could be managed with soaked legs. The sorcerer hopped out of his way as he came charging through. Part of him found it regretful that he did not bowl into the mage, but he ultimately considered it more important at that moment to pull Gaius' ward out of the water.

Perhaps it was not his best idea, and it really was not his favorite, but Uther swung his sword to cut the rope near the pulley on his way to the water. The boy was quickly dropped the rest of the way into the lake. Uther, without slowing, dropped his sword and dove in after him. It only took a minute for the king to pull himself and the boy back to the island's shore. He plopped the boy down beside him rather carelessly while he caught his own breath.

The sound of sharp clapping cut through Uther's thoughts, causing him to snap his head back to attention and focus on the sorcerer. He scowled at them, but they did not seem to notice.

"So, you have the last pawn in your hand. I wondered if you would be able to do it—if you would be willing to do it. I saw you hesitate back there. Tough memories? Join the club."

Uther blinked; there was a lot going on in the sorcerer's tones, so it was difficult to discern how much of the speech was heartfelt, amused, sarcastic, angry, or nonchalant. They paused for a long moment before continuing.

"You did it. You won the game. And you even did it without anybody dying! Or.." the mage blatantly glanced at Merlin, "did you?"

Against his better judgement, the king also looked to the dark-haired boy beside him. As he did so, he realized that Merlin had yet to stir. There was a gash on the side of his head, disappearing beneath his hair. Uther was not sure if it had been there the whole time or not, but it was bleeding. However, he was more disturbed by the fact that he could not tell if the servant was breathing or not. His heart started pounding in his ears. Had he really failed? Uther returned his focus to the sorcerer just to see them grin and then disappear. Thankfully, any remaining fog went with them.

The king wasted no more time; he retrieved his sword and cut the rope binding the boy before sheathing it. He grabbed Merlin and carried him bridal style through the water and back to his horse because this boy was going back to Camelot whether he was alive or dead. The last time he had carried someone like this, it was his own dying son, and he could not even complete the journey because of the grief that had weakened his muscles. If he was feeling some of that weakness now, though, the disconcerting lightness of Gaius' ward did nothing to exacerbate it, and he was able to make it to his horse without incident.

Uther did not even bother depositing Merlin onto the horse's back before climbing onto it himself. It was not safe to drape him over the beast- as Uther would usually do with an incapacitated person- without something to secure him to it, and Uther had just cut the only rope that was available. So, the king made sure the saddle was secure, stepped into the stirrup, and hoisted the both of them onto the horse at the same time. The animal did not complain. Uther positioned the boy in front of him, placed a strong arm around him for security, then took off.

Sometime during the gallop back to Camelot, Merlin coughed up water, and had, perhaps, regained consciousness before passing out again. It reassured the king that he was not bringing back a dead body. Merlin's condition was concerning, but there was nothing that Uther could do about it except for rush him back to Gaius, who was the greatest physician he had ever known or heard of. Passing Merlin off to his guardian would do two things: one, it would give the boy the best chance for continued life, and two, it would fulfill the king's promise.

Uther did not personally care for the boy he currently held, but he did not want him to die. His death would not only mean that the sorcerer defeated Uther, but it would put Gaius through some terrible pain. That was why the king had made this promise in the first place: to spare Gaius from suffering. He knew firsthand what it felt like to lose a son because although Arthur had not actually died when he was bitten by the Questing Beast, he had come close enough that Uther had lost all hope. He had felt the sorrow- the absolute anguish- of Arthur's death. Arthur's recovery was nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps Gaius would be granted a miracle, too. Uther hoped so.

Gaius was in the prince's chambers, just finishing rewrapping his ankle, when he happened to look out the window and notice a horse galloping into the square below. He gasped when he recognized the figures astride the animal.

"It's Uther!" he exclaimed softly.

Arthur's head perked up, "He's back?"

Gaius nodded, "And it looks like Merlin is with him."

The relief that had briefly overtaken him was quickly replaced by the same worry he had been feeling for the past couple weeks when he realized that the lanky figure in front of the king was bobbing loosely and perhaps only managing to stay upright by the support of the arm encircling it. His ward did not look like he was in good health. Uther pulled on the reigns of his horse, forcing it into a hasty stop in front of the castle steps. He just as quickly dismounted and drew the boy into his arms. Gaius easily noticed the way the dark head hung limply and the legs flopped uselessly.

"I need to return to my chambers, sire."

"Of course, Gaius. You are dismissed."

Gaius gathered the rest of his things together and hurried down to his own chambers. He arrived at the same time as Uther, who was carrying the unconscious Merlin. The physician ushered him inside and then directed him to place the boy on an empty cot. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gaius registered that the both of them were dressed in wet clothing. However, the physician was more concerned with the half-dead state of his beloved ward.

"What happened?" Gaius found himself asking as he set about gathering the needed supplies from his shelves.

"Morgana was right; the sorcerer meant to drown him. I tried to stop it, but.." Uther sighed heavily and changed the topic just slightly, "He was unconscious the whole time—well, he probably woke up when he was dropped into the lake."

Gaius flashed the king a concerned glance. This news was not good. How long had the mage kept the boy unconscious? How did he come by that nasty cut on the side of his face? How cold was the lake water, and how long was he under? How was he still alive? The physician took a calming breath. He had a feeling that he would not like the answers to any of those questions, and he doubted that Uther knew many of the answers. All that mattered for the moment was that Merlin was alive. Gaius still had a chance to save his ward.

"Gaius!"

It had been hours since the old man had left him in favor of meeting Uther. Hours, even, since the king had come by his chambers to check on him. Uther did not say anything about the boy he had just rescued, which irked Arthur. He wanted to hear about Merlin's condition. Was he alright? Could he see him? Arthur had gotten impatient about the whole thing and made his way down to the physician's chambers.

Upon hearing the call, Gaius opened his door for the prince and questioned, "Is something the matter, sire?"

"I came to—" Arthur realized what he was about to confess and tried to divert his speech before it was too late, "Well, I just wanted…"

Gaius gave him a knowing look and invited him inside with a slightly exasperated sigh. Arthur quickly found his way to the occupied patient's cot. Firmly holding his crutches with his underarms to help him balance on his one good foot, Arthur freed his hands so that they could grasp one of Merlin's. He did not even think about what he was doing before he had done it. The prince's defenses were down, and he realized that there would now be no point in denying why he had come.

"How is he?"

Honestly, even Arthur could tell that Merlin was not doing particularly well. His servant had already been thinner and paler than the prince thought could be healthy, but now it was even worse. Much worse. His eyes had seemingly sunken further into his face and were surrounded by dark rings. His hand was cold and stiff, and if it were not for the fact that Arthur could see evidence of his shallow breathing, he might have thought it to be a corpse's hand.

Arthur tried not to notice the hesitant pause before Gaius answered, "Recovering," just like he tried not to hear the old man's unsaid, 'I hope'.

Arthur blinked back tears. The idea of getting Merlin back just to lose him all over again was overwhelming. He had missed the idiot, and it felt good to know that he was home, but Arthur would not feel right- complete-until he saw evidence that Merlin really was recovering, until he got to see Merlin smile again, until he got to hear Merlin's irreverent comments which he should reprimand, but he had a hard time keeping a straight face when presented with them, so for his own sake it was best he not mention them at all... No, Arthur would not feel right until his friend stood by him, but it did feel good to be here at his bedside knowing that he was alive.

Gaius pointedly ignored him as he busied himself with his potions and herbs around the table. The prince was highly grateful for the physician's silence as he stood there, lost in thought with his best friend's hand clasped between his own.