Author's Note: I still feel awful for my lack of posting on pretty much everything, so I hope this makes up for my laziness. Postings will slow after this because I've fallen behind on my writing. I like to be a few chapters ahead before I post the next chapter and everything. I'm also going to reply to a few of the reviews below this AN.

Zephyr: Thank you for the wonderful compliments and I'm glad you really like it. Yes, I meant for the weather to correspond with Merlin's emotions. I wanted to show that Merlin's vulnerability was affecting his magic and the world around him, also showing how much power that Merlin truly contains within him. And yes, Merlin will be calling Arthur out on his stupidity though not in this chapter.

Sakae Doragon: I understand what you mean and though I agree that isn't the best way for Arthur to earn Merlin's forgiveness; I intended it to be like that. Arthur to be honest, is an emotionally constipated prick and doesn't know how to stop being a prince and apologize. He'll realize later his stupidity after Merlin prods him a little, but on his own I doubt his first thought would be on apologizing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

Warning: Beware the malexmale, Merdred relationship.

Chapter 3

Sweat dripped from Mordred's forehead, splashing surprisingly loud against the cold stone floor. Mordred was sitting cross-legged on his chamber's floor across from an amused Emrys. A lit candle sat between them, the fire wavering between blazing and trying to disappear in a whiff of smoke. The two warlocks were again playing their usual battle of wills as the two pit their magic against one another. It was good practice for both boys seeing as Emrys didn't know many sorcerers with powers that could match his own. Well, Mordred felt it was good practice for himself seeing as Emrys wasn't even breaking a sweat. The last few days had been going surprisingly well between the two warlocks as the older warlock had been spending more time with Mordred. He had the sneaking suspicion that the King had been playing a not-so-subtle hand in pushing the two together by orchestrating certain situations. Giving Emrys a break for a week and also giving Mordred less training screamed Arthur's influence. Yet, despite how well Mordred and Emrys's relationship have been developing, Mordred could see the tension in Emrys and the subtle anger hidden beneath his forced cheerfulness. Growling with frustration, Mordred released his hold on his magic letting his golden eyes fade back to blue before glaring at Emrys, "Why are you here, Emrys?"

Emrys's eyes also fade from gold to blue while frowning at the younger warlock in front of him, "What do you mean? I thought you wanted me to spend more time with you."

Sighing, Mordred's frustration and anger slipped away under Emrys's pointed comment, "And I'm glad that you have been spending more time with me, truly. But, I think there's more to it now. You've been coming to my chambers and 'practicing' with me for days now and you always seem to be angry."

Emrys shifted uncomfortably under Mordred's knowing gaze. It was true, the older warlock had for days now been either openly fuming, or faking cheerfulness with rage simmering just beneath the surface. Mordred hadn't been able to get the older man to tell him exactly why he was so upset, but Mordred hazarded to guess that Arthur had some part in Emrys's sour mood. Though, Mordred had thought their conversation on the battlements had helped Emrys come to terms with his emotions there still seemed to be something on the older warlock's mind. He didn't quite understand why he was complaining, though, since the older warlock's spat with Arthur had led to him spending more time with Mordred in his chambers. But still, Mordred didn't enjoy seeing Emrys in such a mood and it was clearly causing the older warlock a considerable amount of anguish. Mordred's gaze softened to a soft, tender look that was a rare sight on the young man, "You can trust me, Emrys. Tell me what's been bothering you."

Emrys huffed, clearly not in agreement with Mordred's statement, but a flicker of desire could be seen in the older warlock's eyes. Mordred could tell that Emrys wanted to talk about the thoughts that have been weighing on his mind, and even if the older warlock was reluctant to admit it to himself, Mordred could tell by the amount of time Emrys had been spending with the younger warlock that he wanted to talk with Mordred. Emrys sighed with defeat, his shoulders slumping as all resistance fled him, "I can't help but wonder if Arthur is truly the man that the prophecies speak of… What if we're wrong about him and he'll never change?"

Mordred stared pointedly at Emrys, his jaw hanging slightly in abject shock. Did Emrys just say that? And he had sounded so defeated, like his whole world had been shattered leaving the strong man in front of Mordred broken and desolate. It angered Mordred to see the powerful warlock that he admired so highly look so lost. Mordred reached out, cupping the older warlock's face between his hands and forcing the man to look into Mordred's cold, determined gaze. "Don't say that, Emrys. Arthur has become a man that others respect and admire because of you. If anyone could change Arthur's views on magic, it would be you."

A hint of hope sparked in the depths of Emrys's deep blue eyes, a smile tugging on his lips at the absolute faith that Mordred was showing in him. Yes, the anger was still there, but Mordred was glad he was able to ease some of Emrys's worries. The nerves between the two had faded long ago, but at this moment, Mordred could see any and all tension disappear from Emrys's eyes under Mordred's surprising amount of faith. "Thank you, Mordred."

Mordred's smile brightened the warmth of his own magic surging through him as spikes of desire returned in full force. It was getting harder and harder for Mordred to keep his hands off the handsome, older warlock as the two of them got closer. Emrys could sense the growing tension, quickly pulling away from Mordred. "I should go…" Emrys murmured softly as he quickly stood.

Mordred's magic swirled inside him, clearly agitated at the lost of contact as Emrys quickly took his leave from the chambers. In a split second decision, Mordred was on his feet and rushing after the older warlock, though he wasn't quite sure what he would do after he caught up with the older man.

/BREAK/BREAK/BREAK/

Arthur groaned in frustrated pain as he shuffled around his and Gwen's shared quarters. He was dressed in his armor, sword in its sheath at his hip, and otherwise ready to go to the training grounds thanks to Gwen's preparations. Merlin had been given the week off after the argument they had days ago, and Arthur was quickly starting to realize how lost he was without the young servant's guidance. Gwen had been pushing Arthur to speak to Merlin and apologize, but Arthur had been steadfast in his avoidance. Merlin was clearly too upset to have a rational conversation with Arthur, and Arthur was too conflicted in his thoughts to even contemplate what he would say to placate the angry manservant. Ever since Merlin had told him Ethan's story, Arthur had been conflicted on his own opinions on magic. On one hand, he had seen all the damage that sorcerers had caused to Camelot and himself personally, and yet, on the other hand, Merlin had seen magic used innocently and for good. Merlin even said that not all sorcerers learned magic, and that some were born with the talent. "Bloody hell…" Arthur grumbled under his breath.

Swiping a hand through his hair, he quickly left his chambers and made his way to the training grounds. Pacing wasn't doing anything to help Arthur think, and perhaps some time training would help clear Arthur's mind. Arthur chewed nervously on his lower lip as he walked, second guessing his decision to go to the training grounds. His favorite knights were all a bit prickly with him ever since they caught on to the fight that Arthur and Merlin had. None of them knew exactly what the argument had been about, but they clearly were blaming Arthur for Merlin's stormy mood. Gwaine openly had been giving Arthur dirty looks and pounding him in combat on the practice field, while the others were all giving him varying degrees of the cold shoulder. Arthur should probably be a bit disturbed that his own knights seemed more loyal to his manservant then to their king, but the guilt that had been weighing Arthur down agreed with the knights' attitudes. Sighing, he hoped lightly that perhaps the knights would be in a better mood today.

It was a battered, bruised, and tired king that dragged himself into the armory after a tough day of training. Apparently, just to spite Arthur, the knights had seemed even angrier today than the days before. Cursing softly, Arthur struggled to worm his way out of his armor without any help. His cursing began to get intense and more creative as his efforts brought failed results. He quickly stopped with his struggle as laughter sounded to his side. He turned, ready to snap at whoever dared to laugh at him, and stopped suddenly when Arthur caught his gaze on Elyan, his brother-in-law. Elyan had been the most sympathetic of the knights towards Arthur's troubles which killed whatever retort was on the tip of Arthur's tongue. Instead, Arthur smiled sheepishly at the knight and shuffled on the spot, "Do you think you can lend a hand?"

Elyan eyed the sheepish King with an intense gaze that left Arthur squirming on the spot. Apparently, Elyan must have found what he'd been looking for because the soft-spoken knight simply nodded and stepped forward to help Arthur out of the armor. Arthur watched cautiously at Elyan worked, pondering as he stared. Perhaps he could talk to Elyan? The man was Arthur's brother-in-law, and a trusted knight of the kingdom. Add in the knight's sympathy towards Arthur and the King slowly grew more certain in his decision. Before he could decide otherwise, Arthur quickly stumbled through his question, "Do you believe all magic evil?"

Elyan stiffened, his eyes quickly shooting up to look at Arthur in shock. The question had clearly caught the man off-guard, so Arthur waited patiently for Elyan to collect himself. A stream of emotions flickered in Elyan's eyes; confusion, worry, concern, and finally suspicion. Slowly, he shifted and continued to remove Arthur's armor without a word. Once Arthur had been freed from the heavy metal plates, he set the armor on the table keeping his back to the curious King. "Does this have something to do with your argument with Merlin?"

Arthur wasn't surprised by Elyan's question; he'd always been a perceptive man. "Yes."

His reply was simple and straightforward. Arthur wanted for Elyan to answer his original question and not try to redirect the conversation. Crossing his arms, he waited impatiently for the knight to speak again. Elyan turned, glancing at Arthur cautiously. He seemed tense, and unsure of what to say to the temperamental King. "I've seen the evils that magic can cause, certainly. The best example being Morgana and the torment she brought down on Camelot's people during her reigns."

Arthur visibly flinched at the mention of Morgana, Merlin's words from a couple days ago flickering through his thoughts. Elyan noted Arthur's reaction, but still continued on, "Yet, I haven't always lived in Camelot, and I've seen many things in my travels." He took a seat on a bench, settling for the foreseeable future, "While I was up north, I had decided to settle for a time. I picked a small village to stay in and set up a temporary smithy to work in. I doubted my stay would be long, but I figured I could earn some money while I was there. I was two weeks into my stay when a deadly disease started spreading rapidly through the small village." His voice teetered off, pain becoming evident in his tone, "Ten died over night. The King was contacted for assistance, but our request was denied. All hope had been lost amongst the people, and by the time the messenger had returned everyone had fallen ill including myself."

Arthur frowned in confusion, "But you're still alive. The disease must not have been that deadly then."

Shaking his head, his tone was now quite bitter, "Oh no, it was very deadly. I was on my death bed, prepared for my upcoming death when I suddenly felt a warmth surge through my limbs. Before, I had felt so weak that I barely could move a muscle, but after the warmth faded a new sense of strength returned to my limbs."

Furrowing his brow, Arthur's confusion was beginning to fade and a sense of dawning realization filled his mind. Arthur could see where Elyan was going with this story, "The disease was caused by a sorcerer then?"

Elyan shook his head, his frown clearly showing his frustration at Arthur's quick conclusion, "No, it was natural. But how we were cured wasn't."

The confusion again returned in full force, "Are you saying a sorcerer cured you?"

Elyan nodded, "Yes, and not just me. Everyone in the village that was still alive had been cured of the illness. Apparently, when one messenger had been sent for the King's assistance, the other had been sent for the Druids."

Arthur was openly frowning now, pondering over Elyan's story. From what he said, the Druids had helped just because they could. There was nothing to be gained by healing the small, backwaters village. Adding in Elyan's story with some of Arthur's experience with the Druids, the presence of Mordred as his knight, and the talk with Merlin and Arthur was now suitably unsure of his believes. Seeing Arthur's thoughtful expression, Elyan stood and flashed Arthur a small smile, "I hope that answers your question, sire."

Arthur nodded weakly, barely even noticing as Elyan took his leave. Was Merlin right? Arthur was truly starting to wonder if Merlin did have a point. Some of what he said was starting to ring true and the guilt was growing to be overwhelming. How many innocents did Uther execute? How many did Arthur execute? Tensely, Arthur stood and quickly fled the room trying to get away from his racing thoughts. He meandered through the halls, not exactly sure where he was going, or if he had any set destination, but that seemed to be exactly what he needed. Forcing himself to keep his mind blank, he didn't even realize that somehow he had wandered from the armory all the way to his quarters and then back to the knight's hall. Turning a corner, after taking in the scene he quickly stopped and backtracked, plastering himself against the wall. His heart was racing as quickly as his thoughts, and he didn't even ponder why he decided to hide instead of walking up to the pair before peeking around the corner again.

Standing a little ways down the hall, Merlin was glaring at Mordred in mild anger, though he looked more exasperated then truly angry. Mordred was fidgeting, looking nervous under Merlin's gaze. Arthur frowned, worried that Merlin and Mordred were having a spat. He'd been trying to get the two together since he noted Merlin's feelings, but it seems Arthur's efforts haven't been working. Merlin crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at the younger man, "What do you want from me, Mordred."

Merlin's question caused an instant reaction in the young knight, who stiffened then bristled angrily, "I want you to not run away as soon as things get tense!"

Merlin recoiled in surprise, his eyes wide in response to Mordred's angry statement. Arthur couldn't see the expression on the knight's face since his back was to Arthur, but the King could guess. Merlin's jaw clenched stubbornly, "I'm not running away."

Mordred stepped forward, forcing the manservant to step backwards and press himself against the wall. Arthur could see the tension in Mordred's movements and could guess that the knight's eyes had narrowed the moment Merlin backed up. "Then why do you back away, Emrys?"

Emrys? Was that Mordred's pet name for the manservant? Whatever the case, Arthur could ponder it later for as soon as Mordred asked his question, Merlin stiffened in response, anger filling his eyes. "I can't get involved, Mordred!"

Arthur flinched at the pain and anguish that filled Merlin's exclamation. Mordred had a similar response as Arthur's to Merlin's statement. The tension fled Mordred's frame and he stepped closer to the manservant, his hand resting gently on the older man's forearm. "I know you don't trust me, and I wish I knew why…"

Again, Arthur was left stunned and confused. Merlin didn't trust the young knight? What could have Mordred possibly done to earn Merlin's mistrust? Pain again was filling Merlin's eyes as he stood rigid in front of the young knight. Mordred continued to speak softly most likely not noticing the change in Merlin's emotions, "Whatever you've seen, whatever you've been told; it doesn't matter. I have chosen my side, Emrys, and my loyalties do not lie with Morgana. They lie with you."

Arthur gaped in pure disbelief. Merlin thought Mordred was allies with Morgana? Merlin's eyes shined with unshed tears, the tension fleeing him as he slumped in defeat, "I-I know… I believe that now, Mordred. I don't know if it'll last, and I've never been able to tell the future. And I want to live in the moment, but I can't…" Merlin reached out with his hand and takes Mordred's free hand, "I'm afraid, Mordred." Mordred tensed after that comment, but Merlin plowed on undaunted, "Not of you, but for you." A single tear slide down Merlin's cheek and his breathing was coming in shakily, "I've lost everyone I've ever cared for because of destiny and persecution. I don't want you to be caught in the crossfire because I allowed myself to care for you."

Mordred instantly softened after Merlin's speech, lifting his hand from Merlin's forearm and caressed Merlin's cheek gently, "I'm not Freya or Ethan. I have control over my magic unlike them. We both know the pyre isn't in my future." Both Merlin and Arthur flinched slightly at that statement though most likely for different reasons, "And I'm not your father. There is no reason for me to run."

Arthur was completely stunned. Not only did Mordred know about Merlin's past loves, but also apparently knew something about Merlin's father that Arthur didn't. Merlin had told Arthur that he didn't know anything about his father, but Mordred just proved that what Merlin told Arthur before had been a lie. And even more stunning then that was Mordred's earlier statement. Mordred had magic. Arthur probably shouldn't have been so surprised about that. He knew that Mordred was a Druid, and Druids were magic. The two tended to go hand-in-hand and Arthur was delusional to believe otherwise. What truly shocked Arthur, though was that despite what Mordred said earlier about Merlin not trusting the young man, Merlin had never mentioned to Arthur a thing about Mordred's magic. If Merlin truly didn't trust the young knight, the manservant could have been rid of Mordred easily just by telling Arthur of Mordred's magic. Instead, Merlin seemed to be protecting the young knight and has kept his secret from Arthur and even defended the use of magic. That didn't sound like the man Mordred described earlier. But what truly stayed Arthur's hand though was the broken look on his manservant. Arthur's heart clenched in sympathy at the shattered expression on Merlin's face, and after Merlin's next softly spoken words, Arthur had an overwhelming urge to walk over and comfort his friend, "I can't loss anyone else…"

Mordred pulled the older man into a tight embrace. The young knight pulled away after a moment, reaching out with the hand that caressed the manservant's cheek, he brushed his hand through Merlin's hair. Mordred's fingers curled into the hair at the back of the other man's head pulling him down to the knight's lips. The kiss was gentle, tender and Arthur nearly turned away at the sight of it. He felt like he was intruding on a private moment that he shouldn't bear witness to. Merlin's arms wrapped around Mordred's waist, pulling the knight flush against the servant and deepening the kiss, tears still streaking down his cheeks. It was at this moment that finally Arthur turned away, fleeing the hallway as fast as physically possibly. Rushing back to his chambers, he locked himself safely in his room and collapsed at the foot of his bed thoughts turning around in his mind. The King had a lot to think about with Elyan's story and Mordred's revelation.

/BREAK/BREAK/BREAK/

Merlin slept walked his way out of castle. Night had descended on Camelot quickly after the confrontation with Mordred in the hall. Merlin brushed his fingers over his lips absently, his thoughts wandering to the conversation he and Mordred had before the young knight had kissed him. His emotions and magic had been in turmoil ever since his argument with Arthur days ago. Merlin barely had a grip on his magic as is, and throwing Mordred into the mix was both calming and damning. Half the time, Merlin could be relaxed and himself around the young Druid, but the rest of the time Merlin felt tense and even more confused when it came to the young knight. He was impossible to read, and even more difficult to understand. Mordred caused Merlin all kinds of frustration and now Merlin was left with an impossible dilemma; Cut ties with Mordred, or continue the relationship Mordred and Merlin had built? Both options threatened to bring Merlin unimaginable pain, and Merlin could think of no other options available to him. Groaning, he rubbed his hand over his face in frustration, trying to force his troubled thoughts out of his mind.

The cool night air brushed across Merlin's skin as he quickly changed direction, making his way through the South Gate and creeping silently pass the oblivious guards. His thoughts continued to wander as he allowed his feet to subconsciously carry him through the forest and out to Kilgarrah's field. "O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!"

After Merlin roared out his command, he shifted from foot to foot, growing impatient as he waited for Kilgarrah to arrive. It was a few hours later when finally Merlin heard the soft beat of wings and looked up to spot the golden glint of Kilgarrah's scales as he landed gently in front of his dragonlord. Settling himself on the ground, Kilgarrah eyed the man in front of him silently for a moment before finally speak, "I sense that you're mind is troubled, young warlock."

A rough, humorless chuckle escaped Merlin's lips, "Troubled… Yea, troubled fits how I'm feeling right now."

Merlin began to pace anxiously in front of Kilgarrah, his gaze glued on the grass at his feet as he gathered his thoughts, "I don't know what to do, Kilgarrah. I feel like I've returned to my younger years all over again, unsure of what I should do. My head tells me to be wary of the young Druid, but my heart says otherwise." He stopped pacing for a moment to gaze at Kilgarrah a determined glint in his eyes, "I do not want to make the same mistake with Mordred that I did with Morgana."

Kilgarrah scowled, lips peeling back from his teeth as a low rumble echoed in his throat, "Then follow my advice and kill him now."

Merlin's eyes widen, horrified, "No!"

A roar ripped from Kilgarrah's throat, flames flaring from the dragon's mouth and setting the sky aflame, "You know of the Druid boy's fate yet you still insist on ignoring my advice! You ignored my advice with Morgana and yet you insist on making the same mistake twice."

Rage bubbled to the surface, Merlin's magic flaring out around him as a tree stump exploded nearby. "No." His voice was barely higher than a hiss, but the venom in his tone drew the dragon's full attention, "I followed your advice and kept Morgana in the dark of my abilities. If I had told her, I doubt she'd had turned to Morgause in the first place. None of this would have happened if Morgause hadn't got her claws on Morgana during a moment of weakness."

Kilgarrah fell silent, tilting his head from side to side as he examines the powerful young warlock in front of him. "You have wisdom beyond your years, young warlock, yet you still refuse to accept the effects of destiny."

"It is my destiny to protect Arthur and bring magic back to the lands of Albion. I accept that. But tell me Kilgarrah; is there a difference between fate and destiny?"

Blinking slowly, the implications of Merlin's question made Kilgarrah pause then lowered himself into a laying position. "Destiny is unavoidable, young warlock."

Tapping his foot, impatiently, Merlin raised an eyebrow expectantly as he waited for Kilgarrah to continue. Kilgarrah sighed softly, "Fate can be voided out, only if circumstances are changed. A certain set of events can destroy someone's fate."

Merlin's eyes narrowed on Kilgarrah, "So you're saying that I can void out Morgana's and Mordred's fates?"

"Yes and no. You are Morgana's destiny and doom. There is no avoiding Morgana's defeat though you can decide in what way that your Morgana's doom. But take care, she is the darkness to your light, the-"

"The hatred to my love, I know. You've told me before." Merlin's eyes narrow in thought, his mind turning over the new information he had gathered, "So, I don't have to kill Morgana?"

Kilgarrah grimaced, clearly not liking the direction Merlin's questions are going, "In theory, no, but it would be easier."

"It is always easier to do the wrong thing, Kilgarrah, that's why there are so few truly good people." Letting his comment sink in for Kilgarrah, Merlin continues his questions a moment later, "And Mordred?"

"His fate can be only avoided if your destiny is completed before he turns on the young King."

Merlin's eyes widen in surprise, "So to save Mordred, I must complete my destiny and keep Mordred from turning on Arthur?"

Kilgarrah grumbles, "In theory…"

A weight seems to lift from Merlin's shoulders as Kilgarrah's answers eases Merlin's thoughts. "Thank you, Kilgarrah."

Kilgarrah sighs softly, rising to his feet, "I hope you know what you're doing, young warlock. You're playing a dangerous game." At that parting statement, Kilgarrah turns and takes off into the sky.

Merlin watches as Kilgarrah disappears off into the distance, and continues to stand there watching the sun rise slowly into the sky, "I hope so too, old friend. I hope so too…"