A/N: Hello, folks! Sorry for the long delay in writing a new chapter; I'm in the process of writing exams and I had a particularly big exam yesterday that required all my time and effort in studying. It's a huge relief that it's done now. My roommates and I are nearly done watching Merlin. There are three episodes left and I need them to feel the pain that I felt at Arthur's death. Soon.

The brilliant sun has begun to set on the great kingdom of Camelot, and Merlin is in his death throes. Gaius tries to restrain his violent and uncontrolled movements. It is clear to him that Merlin is suffering a great deal. Guinevere is sitting by Merlin's head and is gently dabbing his forehead with a damp cloth. Merlin slowly settles into the bed and Gaius straightens.

"Rest, my dear boy," he murmurs softly. "Arthur will surely be back soon."

Merlin slowly opens his eyes and finds himself looking into Gwen's gentle eyes. He tries to speak, but no words come out.

"Merlin?" Gwen asks concernedly, setting the cloth aside and taking his hand. Merlin closes his eyes again for a long moment. Then, opening them:

"G-Gwen... Tell him I'm sorry..." It is an immense struggle to get the words out. As he speaks, the door to Gaius's chambers opens and in walks Arthur.

"Tell me yourself," Arthur says, hastening to Merlin's side. "Or don't because I don't want your apologies. You're going to live, Merlin." Merlin opens his eyes again with an effort and it takes him a moment to focus his eyes on Arthur. "I have the flower," Arthur tells him. "What do we have to do?"

"The... The dragon," Merlin breathes.

"Kilgharrah?"

"Aithusa."

Arthur frowns. "Is that not Morgana's dragon? I can't expect it will want to help us."

"Shh..." Merlin tries to sit up, but Gaius pushes him firmly—albeit gently—back down. "Bring me just outside of the walls," Merlin says. "You'll... You'll see..."

Arthur, having learned by this point to take Merlin at his word, promptly stoops to lift Merlin from the bed.

"I'll join you shortly, sire," says Gaius. "I'll gather some medical supplies that might be needed and I'll meet you outside of the city walls."

Arthur nods curtly and carries Merlin out of the physician's chambers. Arthur can't help but note that Merlin, whose eyes are closed once more, is completely limp in his arms. Merlin will make it, he thinks. We've come so far; he has to make it. Arthur speeds up his pace a little bit. In this fashion, the two soon make it outside of the city's walls. He carefully sets Merlin down.

"Now what?" He asks him, kneeling down next to him. Merlin opens his eyes with an effort. In a low, deep voice, he begins to summon Aithusa:

"O drakon, e male... so ftengometta... tesd'hup'anankes!" Then he exhales deeply and closes his eyes.

"Merlin?" Arthur shakes his shoulder. He receives no response. "Merlin, I forbid you to die." Still no response. Then from above comes the sound of flapping wings. Arthur looks up and espies the white dragon, who promptly lands before them. Arthur stands and approaches the dragon warily.

"I take it you have the flower?" Aithusa asks without any form of greeting.

"It's right here," Arthur says, taking the flower out of a small pouch attached to his belt.

"Hold it out to me."

Arthur does as told and the dragon exhales deeply onto the flower. As Aithusa does this, Gaius arrives and kneels next to Merlin.

"Mix this flower in a tincture of comfrey and berberine. It will heal both Emrys and the druids; they need only take a few drops," Aithusa instructs disinterestedly. "And when the sorcerer awakes, remind him that he made a promise to me."

"A promise?" Arthur asks. "What promise?"

"That is of no concern to you. I have done what he has asked and now he must follow through on his part. Remind him of that," Aithusa says before leaving without another word. Gaius, having brought some herbs with him, including those of comfrey and berberine, has already begun to mix the tincture.

"Arthur, the flower," Gaius says without looking up from his mixing. Arthur promptly hands him the flower, which he adds to the tincture. With the flower added, the tincture begins to glow. Gaius quickly pours a few drops in Merlin's mouth and waits for it to take effect. He takes Merlin's wrist in his withered fingers and feels for a pulse, which he finds though it is weak. And then, all at once, the pulse is gone.

"No..." Gaius stares down at Merlin in shock. "No, it can't be..."

"What is it?" Arthur asks quickly. "He's... He's not...?" But the look on Gaius face says everything. Tears well in the old physician's eyes. Arthur can only stare at the motionless body in shock. "No, he can't... Surely not Merlin..."

Arthur's heart begins to race and his mind is full of memories of the clumsy, stumbling, and immensely loyal friend whom he has never fully appreciated. Arthur's heart weighs heavily with regret. He ought to have thanked him more, been kinder to him. He should have given him time off; he should have expressed how grateful he was for Merlin's unwavering loyalty. He felt certain, now, that he could not proceed without Merlin. Hadn't Merlin been telling him just the other day how many times he, Merlin, had saved him, Arthur?

Arthur slowly falls to his knees.

"I mistreated him," he breathes. "He was and always has been the most loyal... I took him for granted, Gaius. I didn't know he... I never knew how much he..."

"Never knew you cared."

Arthur looks up, for it was not Gaius who had spoken but rather Merlin, who begins to sit up. His eyes widen and without thinking about it for even a second, Arthur bounds over to him and hugs him fiercely.

"Not so hard, not so hard," Merlin gasps out with a bit of a laugh. Arthur releases him.

"Merlin, you are never to do that again," he says strictly.

"What? Die?"

"Precisely."

Merlin laughs again. "You know, I might say the same thing to you."

"All right, fine. I won't die if you'll agree not to."

"Deal." The two shake on it, sharing a friendly—and in Arthur's case, relieved—grin. Arthur stands and offers a hand to Merlin, who takes it. Arthur pulls him to his feet, but he doesn't release the grip he has on Merlin's forearm.

"Merlin..." he begins to say, hesitating for only a moment. He wants to express just how grateful he is for everything Merlin has done for him; he wants to tell him how much he really does appreciate Merlin. He wants to thank him for always being there, for always being loyal, and for never abandoning him as so many have. Instead, all that comes out is simply, "Thank you."

But Merlin knows. Merlin knows all the meaning that is held in that 'thank you.'

"Of course, Arthur," Merlin replies just as simply.