Hello!

Thank you all for your amazing support! (And I did indeed finish that History paper!)

~Ra1n

Previously...

He looked at the tiny line that indicated the collar's seam. Letting Merlin fall against his chest, Arthur reached up and wrapped his hands around the metal on either side.

Only one way to find out, he thought.

And he tugged.

The metal came apart with little resistance, the two halves falling away with an airy hiss. Merlin let loose a howl- of pain, of relief, of surprise- before he began heaving in lungfuls of air, his forehead still resting against Arthur's chest. A fine spray of blood and saliva coated the two of them every time Merlin frantically pushed air from his lungs before gulping down more, his shoulders bouncing, the muscles in his back pulled taught. His fingers spasmed in his lap.

Arthur threw the collar across the room, where it struck the far wall and landed with a loud clang. He never wanted to see the thing again, for as long as he lived. For as long as Merlin lived.

He seized Merlin's jerking shoulders and pulled him upright, trying to catch the young warlock's eyes, trying to assess the damage, trying to get him to calm down.

Merlin kept swallowing mouthfuls of air, his eyes squeezed shut. He tilted his face up to breathe more deeply, blood covering his face and neck and clothes. There was pain in his features, pain and… bliss? Was that it? The way he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed? Like watching a drowning man breach the surface of a lake.

Arthur carefully avoided looking at the space where the collar had been. He knew he had to face it eventually, but he was sure that the moment he did, he would break down, and that was not what either of them needed right now. Instead, he focused on the fact that Merlin had managed to clear the blood from his throat and was now flagging, the lines on his face smoothing out as his muscles went slack. Arthur cupped Merlin's face in his palms.

"Merlin," he said, watching the warlock's eyes roll beneath his eyelids. "Merlin!"

The warlock jerked at the sound, his eyes fluttering open. They were a hazy gray, and before Arthur could pinpoint why, they morphed to a gold so bright he had to close his eyes.

Arthur jumped as warm fingers found his wrists. Then his shoulders. The space behind Arthur's eyelids was too bright to comprehend, and he realized that his eyes must have been glowing, too, if the light and heat were anything to go by.

Another pair of hands rested against the small of his back. Arthur gasped and opened his eyes, but there was only golden light- who was with them? Whose hands were touching his arms and back and face? They were not the cold, shattered ones that belonged to Merlin, whose face was still resting in Arthur's, even if he could no longer see it.

This is it, something whispered. Let go.

Arthur didn't want to let go. He wanted to bundle Merlin up and protect him forever. He wanted to wrap him up in the finest, softest blankets and feed him all of his favorite foods until his body and soul and mind and magic had healed. He wanted to see him practice the kind of magic he wanted, see him hug Gwen and Gaius again, see Gwaine and Percival and Elyan tease him.

Let go, Arthur, the voice persisted, and the hands tugged on his arms gently.

"Please," Arthur whispered, "don't hurt him."

Your job is done, Pendragon.

Resigned, Arthur let them pull him away.

He was not what Merlin needed anymore.

As Arthur's hands fell into his lap, the gold light rapidly faded around him.

Your job is done.

Arthur had a brief glimpse of the back of Merlin's head before the darkness swallowed him up, and he knew no more.

"Merlin!"

Arthur awoke with a start, Merlin's name on his lips. It took him a few moments to adjust to the dim light of the room, but when he did he was met with a sea of faces and wide eyes.

"Ah-!" He tried to scramble backwards, frantically twisting his head, but a steadying hand on his shoulder kept him still.

"It is okay, Pendragon," a voice from above him said, "you've done it."

Arthur whipped his head around to see Iseldir, his hand still on Arthur's shoulder. It was then that Arthur became aware of his surroundings: The sea of faces belonged to the Druids. Gaius, Gwen, and Gwaine were scattered along the outskirts of the room. Percival was halfway through the doorway. The Druids seemed satisfied; they were looking at him with hope. Everybody else looked wide-eyed with residual panic. Had Arthur been yelling? It was obvious that Percival had suddenly burst into the room only moments ago. Hadn't he been in the corner with the others? How long had he been out?

He looked down. Merlin was in his lap once again. His hair was greasy and long. His spine was jutting grotesquely under the bandages and digging into Arthur's chest.

There was a beat. Arthur could feel his own rib cage heaving as he looked up, his eyes wide. The Druids were holding their breath. His friends were, too. All eyes were glued on Arthur and the precious cargo in his arms.

Arthur's stomach dropped as he had a horrible thought:

Was this real?

It was then that there was a shift, and Arthur had only a split second to register what was happening before the mop of black hair twisted to reveal a pair of swollen eyes and the room erupted into noise.

The goblet on the table shattered, splashing water across the nearest Druids, who had jumped into action. A handful of them grabbed Gwaine and Gwen and shoved them, along with Percival, through Merlin's doorway. Two leapt up to shield Gaius, their eyes glowing as they cast some kind of counterspell. The rain roared through the window, the glass exploding inward as the wind whipped through the room, tearing the curtains from there mounts. The table beside Arthur collapsed. The book lying atop it flipped rapidly through its own pages.

It was as if a tornado had manifested itself within the room, and Merlin and Arthur were at the center. The floorboards creaked. Moss blossomed along the walls. Rats bolted from unseen holes in the foundation and disappeared again. Arthur clutched Merlin tightly to his chest, trying to shield him from the bits of wood and leaves and debris that were flying around the room. Or, he tried to, but Merlin, who had somehow wound up facing Arthur, simply pushed him back, his eyes glowing, his expression unreadable.

The collar had fallen into Arthur's lap at some point (hadn't he thrown it across the room?), and now the pieces of it burned Arthur's skin. He yelped and scrambled backwards, trying to brush the pieces of scalding metal off.

Was this supposed to happen? Why did the Druids seem unprepared? Where was Iseldir?

Merlin was squatting on the bed like a gargoyle, his uncut hair whipping around his face as his magic howled and shrieked around him. Arthur winced as something flew by his cheek, but nothing touched him. Squinting, Arthur realized that although the wind was screaming and kicking up debris from outside, none of it was actually hitting anybody- not the Druids, nor Gaius, nor the spell that they had cast to protect him.

It was all very Merlin.

The wind continued to rush through the room for a few moments more, and although it had felt like longer, Arthur knew it had only lasted several seconds.

As abruptly as it started, it stopped. The book went still. The curtains fluttered to the ground. The twigs fell to the floor. The moss retreated. The noise died down.

Merlin's eyes faded back to their usual blue, and for a moment they remained like that, their depths settled on Arthur's own.

But the moment passed, and Merlin slumped forward as they rolled into the back of his head.

This time, it wasn't Arthur who caught him as he fell. It was Gaius, who had rushed forward before the magical fit had even begun to die down and had made it to Merlin before he'd even started to collapse.

Standing at the foot of the bed, the physician caught Merlin's shoulders from behind. Arthur scrambled off the side of the bed and rushed towards the window. Behind him, Iseldir had joined Gaius in helping maneuver Merlin into the bed, but Arthur had to check something first.

He needed to know if the spell was really over.

He peeked outside and breathed a sigh of relief. Camelot stretched as far as he could see. The rain was falling steadily. The grass bent beneath the droplets.

He was back, and Merlin was free.

a/n: a short one, but the next will be out very soon.