This one's even longer! It's Arthur's POV, and I like it better than Merlin's, personally. Tell me which you like better, in a review perhaps? I hope you can see the parallels and re-used phrases. This was difficult to write, since I've had writers block the last couple days, and I just had to get started. Once I did, it came fairly quickly and only took a few hours to write.

"I did that," I cringed, hearing those words. I wanted him to change time, make me forget he'd ever condemned himself to a fiery death. I had to do was say the word.

I took a deep breath, carefully choosing my next words, "I guessed you did that," I just hoped you would make an excuse, "Still, it looked like a mistake to me," Please say it was a mistake, that you weren't practicing magic, just read aloud some words you shouldn't have or something, "You must not be very good, I don't know what possessed you to study magic, in Camelot no less, but—"

He interrupted me, "I didn't," Was he saying he didn't study magic? So it was an accident!

Still, I had to check he was talking about that, "Didn't what?"

He gulped, "I didn't study magic," So it was just an accident! Thank heavens!

"So it was just a one time thing?" I tried not to show the relief on my face.

"No, but I didn't study. I was born this way," Born that way! So he did have magic! Father said that they had to study though, choose. If it wasn't a choice… suddenly I felt nauseous.

"But, don't you have to?" I had to clear that up, to see if we had been killing innocents.

He gave a small, humorless smile, "Um, no, see I was born to fulfill a destiny. I needed magic to do that,"

"A destiny? You? Some powerful warlock with a destiny?" But he was Merlin, an idiot. Even he can't be that good an actor. I started to laugh, "But you couldn't even get that spell before right!" He had to be joking, him?

He looked disgruntled, as though not expecting my action. "I'll have you know that I am powerful, and one spell doesn't mean much," his face had a look of dead seriousness, one that couldn't be faked.

"You're being serious?"

"Yes!" I could tell I was annoying him, but at least he wasn't shaking and terrified anymore, "Look, I'll prove it," Whatever I'd expected him to say, it hadn't been that. He raised his hand steadily, pointing it at the fire. He paused for a second before whispering, "Draca," * the embers flew, forming the shape of a dragon.

I gasped, but it didn't seem like he heard me. His face seemed to soften, his eyes unfocused, as if he was remembering a happier time. I couldn't help myself; I fell back, trying to fight my urge of 'see sorcerer, kill sorcerer'. He turned to look at me, as if remembering I was even there. He stared, as I stopped fumbling back, freezing. Would he run again? Why would he do something so stupid? It was official: he was an idiot! I looked at him, meeting his eyes. He shuddered, and I went to sit back down. He trusted me with showing that at least, I could act like it wasn't the oddest thing that's ever happened to me, seeing magic used for nothing but innocence.

"Why were you in Camelot?" I asked, as soon as I trusted my self to speak.

He smiled ruefully, " I told you I didn't fit in at Ealdor," That's what he meant! I just thought he wasn't the farming type or something! "Then there was an incident with a tree and Old Man Simmons," he at least had the sense to look ashamed, "and Will found out about my magic," So Will knew, and probably was lying when he said he was a sorcerer, otherwise it wouldn't matter if he knew.

"What is this destiny?" I wasn't going to stop until I got an answer. He paused, as though trying to see what words tasted right on his tongue, what I wouldn't shy from, or attack him because of.

"Why?" He was stalling, I could tell.

I tried to make a joke, lower the tension, "I'm trying to decide if you're evil or not, just answer me," He winces, drawing backward, away from me. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the brightest idea to joke about execution, especially after what I had done, but it was too late to call back my words.

He waited, and I wasn't sure if he would give me an answer now or not. He finally sighed, " I can't," he said, frustrated, "Someone else can tell you, not me," Who? "In fact, ask the stupid lizard," What lizard was he talking about? Why would a lizard talk? "He can tell you, though I wouldn't trust him," he spoke as if from experience, "Mr. Half can't hate what makes it whole, fortune cookie, two sides of a coin," he grumbled, taking a breath. He stopped, before saying with an air of finality, "Just leave me alone," He tried to get up, pushing against the blanket roll to support his weight. When he finally made it up, he limped to the forest, walking away from me. I watched him leave, paralyzed in shock at his rant. He didn't look back. I wish he had looked back. As soon as he was gone, I jolted out of my stupor, and raced after him. How could I let him leave again?

Please review! It only takes a minute! You can have a magical Merlin voodoo doll that you can whump all you want! (Courtesy of Merlin, it's not my fault if he doesn't send it, he just was backed up with all the angst and saving of prat's lives).