(AN: First of all, I love you guys. I've been having trouble finding the time to respond to reviews, but they are so encouraging. Really, they are what keep me writing. I hope I don't disappoint you guys. This should be the second to last chapter of this episode, and I've got the last chapter mostly finish. I'll post as soon as I can. You know, this stuff was much easier to keep up with when I was in college... Oh well. Enjoy!)

For the first time since he and Percival had set foot in Amata, Gwaine knew he was on the right path. His horse surged beneath him, hooves pounding on the road that pointed toward his friends. And if he missed the now familiar weight of a red cape swooshing along behind him... well, sometimes friendship had a cost.

Soon enough, the Sarrum's palace loomed before him, though it looked a bit more ventilated than when he'd last seen it. He smirked at that, almost liking the sorcerers and their explosions for a moment. Almost.

Dismounting, he looped his horse's reins around a branch- tight enough to keep her from wandering, loose enough that she could get away if she needed to. Giving her a pat and hoping he'd be able to come back for her soon, he started through the trees.

Soon, he heard noises ahead. He drew his sword silently and crept forward. Peering through the trees, he saw soldiers busying themselves with various preparations. He recognized many familiar faces amongst them. It was really a bit embarrassing that he had been able to sneak up on a portion of Camelot's army so easily. He was half tempted to appear right in their midst and give them a proper fright. But it would be hard to help Merlin and Elyan if one of these toss buckets got jumpy and put an arrow in his arse. So instead, he walked toward them, making some noise so he wouldn't startle anyone.

Several of the soldiers still jumped, but they recognized him immediately and rushed over, offering smiles he quickly returned. He had drunk many a pint with these lads, and he was relieved, if confused, to see them outside the castle and unharmed.

"Briggs," he said, clasping arms with a nearby soldier. Briggs was a good man, which is why Gwaine liked playing cards with him- he couldn't bluff, and he always paid up. "What's going on here? I thought you were meant to be taking the castle. Where's Elyan?"

The other men wandered back to their tasks as Briggs drew him aside.

"The castle is crawling with sorcerers," Briggs said. "Sir Elyan took a group of us in to scout. We could hardly take three steps before one of them shot a spell at us. One nearly blew Sir Elyan's head off. After that, we knew that we couldn't take the castle with them guarding it that way. So..."

Briggs looked at the men around them, and Gwaine followed his gaze. Looking more closely, he could see that they were wrapping cloths around arrow heads, filling bottles with oil, and coating balls of rags with wax.

"You're going to burn them out?" Gwaine was impressed. It was an aggressive but neat strategy, except for one problem. "What about Merlin? Have you found him? And where's Elyan?"

"Sir Gwaine?" Briggs and the knight looked over as the crisp, clear voice cut through their conversation. Gwaine sighed inwardly as a young soldier named Cole made his way over. Cole was as suspicious as Briggs was open. He didn't get drunk, and he always quit while he was ahead when gambling. No fun at all.

"Cole," Gwaine nodded respectfully. "I've been looking for Elyan. Where is he?"

"Why?" said Cole, narrowing his eyes. "Did the Queen send you, Sir?"

"Of course," said Gwaine, tossing back his hair confidently. "And now, I need to talk to her brother. Where is he?"

"The Queen sent you?" Cole said, with a glare just shy of impertinence.

"You don't think she'd trust me?" said Gwaine, throwing his own glare at the soldier.

"I'm sure she does, Sir," said Cole seriously. "I just don't believe she'd send you off alone after being held captive for so long. And why send a messenger at all? Why not come herself?"

Gwaine tried to look unfazed, but he was starting to feel a bit desperate. Cole was smart, and- beyond the fact that this little chat was a waste of time- he would arrest Gwaine once he figured out that the knight had deserted his Queen. And Cole would find out. He was a good soldier. Gwaine almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

"You're right," Gwaine said, earning surprised looks from both Briggs and Cole. "It is odd for her to send me. Which is why she wrote a letter explaining things. I tell you, that woman thinks of everything. I was sure I wouldn't need it, since I thought you would trust me, but I guess I was wrong. The letter is with my horse, a way back in the woods. I'll just go and fetch it-"

"Nice try," Cole said, stepping forward. "But you're not going anywhere on your own, Sir. Briggs and I will accompany you to retrieve this *letter*."

Gwaine smirked.

"As you wish."

The silence was heavy. They were at an impasse, and Merlin couldn't see a way out of it. If only he could make Arthur understand about magic. It wasn't just something Merlin could do, but who he was. It would be like asking Arthur to give up his sword- no, more than that- his throne. Something central to his identity. Just as Arthur was King Arthur, Merlin was Emrys.

He would have given that up for Gwen, Merlin thought. Maybe I am being selfish. Maybe it would be better to stay and not use magic. I could still advise him and protect Camelot. Maybe in time, he would change his mind.

"If I stayed," Merlin said, not looking at Arthur. "What would that be like?"

"It would be just like before," Arthur said, sounding... maybe hopeful?

"No," Merlin said, meeting his eyes. Definitely hopeful. "It really wouldn't."

Arthur looked away, arms crossing.

"Well, then tell me," he said, looking everywhere but at Merlin. "What was it like before?"

"You really want to know?" Merlin said quietly.

Arthur looked at the ground before him, shoulders tense. Finally, he met Merlin's eyes again.

"Yes."

"Okay," said Merlin, blowing out a long breath and running both hands through his hair as he tried to figure out how he was even going to do this. "Right, well, most of the time, it started with a magical threat. A sorcerer trying to kill you or Uther or me even, or someone wanting to rule the kingdom, or a magical creature, or a curse, or some combination of all of them... you get the idea. So, I'd tell Gaius, and we'd look through all these books trying to find a way to defeat it, and then I'd tell you about it, and you wouldn't believe me. Usually I'd get fired or arrested or thrown in the stocks at that point, but not in the last few years- thanks for that. I'd get cryptic advice from the dr- an old friend... but that was mostly about destiny and didn't really help. Gaius would find a way to fix the problem, tell me it was too dangerous, and then let me go anyway. You'd get knocked out, I'd almost get killed, and the villain would gloat. But then I'd win and find a way to give you all the credit. And... maybe some playful banter at the end? Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Merlin glanced back at Arthur, who was looking at him slack-jawed.

"So... um..." said Merlin. "What part of that do you want to change?"

A suspicious as Cole was, he didn't see the punch coming at all.

Gwaine had made sure they were far enough away from the group not to draw attention before knocking the other man out. Briggs stood there for a moment, shocked. That was all Gwaine needed. He quickly grabbed the other man's arm, twisting it behind his back and pushing him against a tree. It wasn't enough to hurt him, just to keep him from going for a weapon or running for aide.

"Gwaine," Briggs said hoarsely. "What are you doing!?"

"I'm sorry," Gwaine said, meaning it. "And I'll buy Cole a pint to make up for it when this is all over. But I'm not supposed to be here, strictly speaking, and I don't have time to get arrested right now. I need to know where Elyan is. I need to help him and Merlin."

He let go of Briggs and stepped back, holding is arms out peacefully. The soldier stared at him tensely for a moment. Then, he slumped, rubbing his forehead.

"Aw, Gwaine," he sighed. "You're going to lose your knighthood over this, you know that?"

"Never was one for titles anyway," Gwaine shrugged, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest. "Please, where are they?"

"In the castle," Briggs answered. "Elyan stayed behind with Oswin and Erec to look for Merlin. We're to wait for them until sundown, then burn it."

"Damn," Gwaine cursed, looking at the sky. Sundown was less than an hour away, and if Cole was in charge, there would be no delay. Cole followed orders to the letter. That was another thing that annoyed Gwaine.

"I'm worried too," Briggs said. He looked at Gwaine hard for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. "There's a drainage gate on the west side of the wall. You'll have to leave your armor. If you can hold your breath and swim under it, you'll make it in. I'd go with you, but my orders are clear, and I've a family to feed."

"I understand," Gwaine said. He had already abandoned the Queen and assaulted soldiers of Camelot. His choices would likely be banishment or prison, if he even he made it out of the burning castle full of sorcerers alive. "Um... look, I don't want you to get in trouble... so..."

"I think you'll owe me two pints after this," Briggs said, sighing and kneeling in front of Gwaine.

"Too right, mate," Gwaine said, placing a hand on Brigg's shoulder and bringing back his fist.

"Don't hit the teeth," the soldier requested, holding up a hand. "My wife really likes my teeth."

"Got it," said Gwaine before swiftly knocking the other man out cold. "Your wife has good taste."

Shaking out his sore hand, he headed toward the castle's west wall.

Arthur's head was swimming. Merlin had just admitted that he was responsible for most of the heroics done in Camelot, but had let Arthur take all the credit. And he wanted to know what Arthur wanted to change?

"All of it," the king said abruptly. Was his voice too loud? It felt really loud. "Change all of it." Better.

"Well, I'm sorry, Arthur," said Merlin, seeming miffed. "I protected Camelot as well as I could under the circumstances. If you have a problem with my strategy-"

"Strategy?!" Arthur blurted. "Your strategy, as you call it, seems to start with sneaking around, proceed to almost dying, and end with making me look like a fool."

"What?" Merlin said, eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "I'm the one who always plays the fool, not you! You always look like a hero!"

"And how much more foolish could I be? To think I really was a hero." Arthur stood and turned his back on Merlin, putting some much needed distance between them.

When he was a child, he had often played chess with Gaius. They would talk about whatever was on Arthur's mind, he would trounce the physician soundly each time, and walk away feeling happier for days. Then, he had cockily challenged Morgana to a game. It was over in four moves. Arthur shrugged it off as a fluke, ignored Morgana's gloating, and demanded a rematch. Which he promptly lost. After the fifth embarrassingly quick game, Morgana took pity on him and claimed she had somewhere else to be. Arthur had simply sat there, staring at the pieces. Every prideful brag he had made about his advanced strategy, every kind smile from Gaius as he admitted defeat, every triumphant feeling of accomplishment he had felt had flashed before his eyes and then crumbled to ash. He stopped going to Gaius' chambers unless he had to. It was weeks before he could look at a chessboard without a sick feeling in his stomach.

Now, he felt like a child again.

"Arthur," Merlin's voice was gentle. "It wasn't like that..."

"What was it like, then?" Arthur said harshly, trying to force away the weakness he felt.

"You are a hero," Merlin said, standing, but not approaching. It sounded like he was having one of his wise moments, damn him. "Much more than me. I've... done things I'm not proud of to keep Camelot safe. Things you don't need to know about."

Arthur met Merlin's eyes and saw something uncompromising and unyielding there. He was chilled by the thought that maybe he didn't want to know all of Merlin's secrets.

"But you," Merlin continued. "You can be open with your people. You've made mistakes, but you've always done what you can to make up for them. You can hold your head high, and the people can look to you as an example. You are Camelot's hero. You always will be."

There was resignation in Merlin's voice that Arthur didn't like at all.

"We could face things together," Arthur said quietly. "You and me. No more magic, no more lying, just you and me and the knights fighting as people to protect Camelot. As equals."

"You don't know how much I want that," said Merlin fiercely. "But Mordred's out there right now with an army of sorcerers. Morgana's with him. When they start raining down magic on us, do you want me to run at them with a sword? Arthur, that'd be like asking you to fight with a twig when Excalibur was in your scabbard."

Arthur had to think about that for a moment. Would he ask Merlin to hold back when Camelot was in danger? For that matter, could he let his friend- who had a dismal sense of self preservation at the best of times- follow Arthur into battle without his most trusted weapon? But he couldn't make an exception. He wouldn't make the same mistake as his father, forbidding magic to his people but using it when he was desperate. No, magic could not be trusted. It was always had a price. And it always took more than it gave.

"You could help Gaius," Arthur said. "You've become a skilled healer. You could save countless lives."

"Do you really think I could do that?" Merlin said, closing the distance between them. "Hide inside the citadel, not knowing if my friends were dead or alive? Could you?"

Arthur sighed, turning and scrubbing a hand over his face. Why was everything so difficult with Merlin? Why couldn't he be grateful that Arthur wanted him in Camelot at all? Why would he choose magic over his home and his friends? Over Arthur?

As King, he wanted to order Merlin to abandon magic and stay in Camelot as his advisor. As his friend. But Arthur remembered the advice of his old training master. Advice that had served him well as he lead men into countless battles.

Never give an order you know won't be followed.