Merlin dropped with exhaustion against the pillar at the top of the Isle and pulled Arthur's body to his chest. He feared he had taken too long to get here; was Arthur's soul already gone? Closing his eyes, Merlin calmed his breathing and sensed the island's magic. It hung in the air like an invisible fog, humming quietly around them. As Merlin concentrated, the dormant magic came alive and converged on his thoughts of finding Arthur's soul.

"Arthur…" Merlin reached out with his mind, "Arthur, can you hear me?"

…

Arthur found himself standing in pure white emptiness, his armor replaced with a tunic.

"Merlin?" Arthur thought he heard his friend's voice faintly echoing. He felt disoriented, confused…then he remembered his mortal wound. He sucked in a breath, anticipating pain as he searched his side. Strange…the gash was still there, yet it did not hurt.

Suddenly, there was a blinding light and Arthur's hand jumped to shield his eyes. As the light dimmed, he saw the outline of a figure approaching.

"Arthur," Merlin appeared, wearing the same servant clothes he always did. But he was different. His eyes were wizened and an aura of great power emanated all around him.

"You never cease to amaze me, Merlin," Arthur smiled. He gestured to the empty air, "Where are we?"

"We're in the passage between life and death. I've come to bring you back," Merlin held out his hand, but Arthur just looked at it, bewildered. "You are passing between worlds. I have tried to heal you as best I can, but…Arthur, you have to help me. You have to want to live." Merlin's eyes burned with purpose.

Arthur sighed, "Merlin, I know you mean well," he ran a hand through his blond hair, "but I am tired. Camelot is safe. Together we have built a peaceful and just kingdom," Arthur placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder, "My destiny is fulfilled. You need to let me go."

"Destiny isn't the only reason to live, Arthur," Merlin pleaded. "Since the day I met you, I have served you, cared for you, protected you because I believed in your destiny and my role in it…" Arthur was enraptured by the surety in which Merlin spoke, "but destiny was just one reason I did what I did. You are a good man, a caring husband, a loyal friend. And to me-" emotion seeped through Merlin's words as he struggled to steady his voice, "-to me, you are more than a friend. Our destinies may be complete, but our lives don't have to be. Don't you want to go home? To Gwen? The Knights? You can finally live peacefully in the kingdom you've worked so hard to build," Merlin hugged Arthur to him, "Please, please, don't give up."

Merlin's hold was warm…safe. Arthur closed his eyes and felt Merlin's aura envelope him.

Visions of the past swam into his mind. Gwen, smiling. Merlin laughing. Knights, training. Riding out for a hunt, Merlin at his side. People cheering him on in a tournament. Merlin handing him breakfast. The round table. Facing countless dangers and Merlin always there with him…Merlin, the most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived, content to be a servant, to protect and guide him, so Arthur could fulfill his destiny.

'No...no, that's not what's important…' Arthur suddenly realized. 'Sorcerer…servant…destiny… none of that matters anymore…'

As this new revelation formed, the brightness around them grew, 'Merlin is–he is, and always has been, and always will be, my truest friend and that is all that matters.'

Arthur embraced Merlin tightly, letting the bond between them heal his tired soul.

Arthur awoke to a cold breeze across his face. Soft light illuminated the grassy ground he lay on; it must be early morning. The weight of his armor was missing. Looking to his right, he saw it piled against a pillar. He moved to sit up, but a fatigue like sore muscles wracked his entire torso and he laid back down with a strained groan.

"Arthur!" Merlin noticed his friend was awake and abandoned stoking the fire to go to his side.

"Mer-Merlin," Arthur's voice was scratchy.

"Are you alright?" Merlin glanced worriedly to Arthur's side.

Oh. That's right. Arthur reached his hand to where the wound was…and felt smooth skin. No bleeding, no hole, not even a scratch.

"It appears…I am," he smiled up at Merlin who smiled back with the biggest grin.

…

They sat at the fire eating the stew Merlin had made. Merlin stared as Arthur shoveled food in his mouth with such gusto Merlin wondered if he was chewing.

"You alright?" Merlin asked.

Arthur spoke with his mouth full, "I swear, Merlin, if you ask me if I'm alright one more time I'll have you thrown in the stocks," Arthur grabbed the scoop from the cauldron and poured another helping of stew into his bowl.

"It's just, I've never seen you take so well to my meals before."

"I'm a bit surprised myself," Arthur said between bites. "I'm so hungry, you could have made that rat soup and I'd finish all of it," Arthur lifted the bowl to his mouth and downed the entire contents before pointing the empty bowl at Merlin and warning, "but don't go getting any ideas."

Merlin chuckled and scooped more stew into Arthur's bowl.

"Well, I guess I'd be hungry too if I'd slept for three days."

Arthur choked. "Three days?!"

Merlin nodded. "Yep. I guess magically healing from a mortal wound is very exhausting."

Arthur paused, watching Merlin pour stew into his own bowl. "It must have been exhausting for you too, taking care of me."

"I'm just glad you're feeling better," Merlin said before taking a bite, "It would have been really exhausting to have to drag you all the way back to Camelot." He looked up at Arthur with a mischievous grin and they both laughed.

They had been walking for hours. It would be a long journey back to Camelot and so far it had been a quiet one. Arthur hadn't said a word since they'd left the island and it was making Merlin anxious. He knew Arthur wasn't going to execute him for being a sorcerer, but Arthur was clearly thinking over something important and Merlin suspected it was about him. He had given the king some space, walking a few paces behind, but Merlin couldn't stand not knowing any longer.

"Arthur?" he broke the silence, watching cautiously for Arthur's reaction.

"And here I was enjoying the peace and quiet," Arthur quipped. "What is it, Merlin?"

"Is there- is there something you want to ask me?"

Arthur stopped and turned to him.

"Something I want to ask you? Like what?"

"Well," Merlin shifted nervously in place, "you know about me now, that I'm a sorcerer, that I've been using magic in Camelot. Is there something you want to ask about that?" to ease the tension, he sought the familiarity of their usual banter, "You seem to be thinking very hard and I don't want you to hurt yourself."

But Arthur didn't roll his eyes like usual. In fact, Merlin was surprised and a little taken aback to see how serious Arthur's eyes were as they looked right at him.

"Merlin," Arthur spoke with conviction, "I know everything you did, magic or not, was for the good of Camelot and for me. I do not need to know the details of the past. What's done is done. I trust your intentions have always been and always will be noble. I trust you." Arthur held Merlin's gaze with such intensity, Merlin was frozen in awe. Then Arthur turned back around and continued walking.

Merlin stood a moment before jumping to catch up to his king.

"But, Merlin?" Arthur sounded back to his casual self.

"Hmm?"

"I do have a question for you."

"And what is that?" Merlin was relieved there'd finally be some conversation.

Arthur looked at him quizzically and blurted out, "Am I an idiot?"

A sly smile broke out on Merlin's face, "Is that a trick question?"

This time, Arthur did roll his eyes. "About magic, I mean." He let out a long sigh. "I grew up with Morgana and had no idea she had magic. I made Mordred a knight and had no clue about him. And then, of course, there's you, by my side all these years, and I hadn't an inkling. How can everyone around me hide magic so easily?"

Merlin muttered under his breath, "It wasn't that easy…" But he could tell Arthur was struggling with this, so he thought for a moment to give his honest reply.

"You were never taught how to see it," Merlin started, "to really see it. Sure, if it's a big display like a creature or flying daggers or unnatural gusts of wind…but sensing it, the subtleties…it takes skill. By making it forbidden and destroying anyone even associated with magic, your father blinded you both." Merlin could see Arthur needed further explanation and thought quickly how to put it in terms his friend could understand. "You can't expect to recognize someone's skill with a sword if you've only ever seen finishing blows."

Arthur thought on this a moment.

"This-this blindness almost destroyed Camelot…almost destroyed me…" Arthur trailed off. Suddenly, he looked up at Merlin with determination.

"I want you to teach me about magic," Arthur proclaimed.

Merlin almost tripped. "I-I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm the king! I can't afford to be blind about anything, especially not something as potent as magic. I'm not asking you to convert me to the Old Religion, just-just inform me," Arthur ran his hand through his hair in a sign of exasperation. "Help me to recognize it, how to tell the difference between good and bad magic, how to…how to acknowledge it without putting people in danger. How can I make laws for a fair and just kingdom for all when I know nothing about some who dwell within it?" Arthur finished, his face contorted in frustration.

Merlin was dumbfounded. He wondered if Arthur had been thinking about how the laws affected him. Then he smiled and for an instant Arthur recognized the old sorcerer he'd seen on the ridge at Camlann in Merlin's eyes.

"Arthur, you are a great king," Merlin mused.

Understanding that as a 'yes', the king pursed his lips in a smile and gave Merlin's shoulder an agreeing shake before continuing.

"This is going to be strange," Merlin stated walking beside him.

"Definitely," Arthur agreed.