I'm sorry that this chapter is so late, but I really didn't make any promises as to when i'd update, so please don't hate me. But I did make up for it by not only making it like two thirds longer, (not including a/n's,) than my usual chapters, but by also getting in some whump. Not a whole lot of whump, but some. Ah, I really enjoyed writing this chapter since it had several of the scenes that I was looking orward to in it. I hope you all like it as well. The main whump is not too much farther away so you should be happy. This does contain a swear word or two in it as well so beware. I don't know when my next update will be, it all kinda depends on motivation, time, and overall brain rottage. Cranking out this chapter may take its toll. Anyway, please remember to review, 'cause that scene with Merlin smiling in the earlier chapter is taken off of my reaction to praise. Hope you like!

Previously:

And as Merlin lifted his head up and Arthur held out a plate of food to him; Arthur knew one thing for certain, just one thing.

He was a complete and utter ass for acting this way. So he said the only thing he could say,

"Merlin, you're right…and I'm sorry."

"What?"

Merlin hadn't really meant to yell at Arthur; he'd just had a really hard day. It had begun like most others; with him being a tired, underappreciated, servant who nearly dropped his master's things. But as the day had worn on Merlin had felt increasingly…well…bad. Of course he'd had Gaius, Margaret, and even Gwen tell him sometime within the last two days to take it easy. Unfortunately, that was very easy when your master was Arthur Pendragon. Arthur wouldn't take Merlin telling him he wasn't feeling good very well, especially taking into consideration the horrible and altogether restless mood he had been in lately. Really, you'd think that saving a man's life would at least cheer him up.

Though, if Merlin was really being fair he'd have to admit that Arthur had usually been grumpy to his knights or anyone who got in his way, but not to his servant. In fact, their relationship seemed to be getting better lately, Merlin even started to consider the fact that the Great Dragon might not have been entirely wrong.

But today, Merlin had decided, was Arthur's day. The prince had been getting very restless and apparently hunting would get rid of that. Merlin had even resolved to not scare away as many animals as usual. However; that hadn't worked out so well when his body started feeling far too heavy and his eyesight had started getting blurry.

Merlin had been confused; there was no way he should feel this heavy, like he was carrying the armor and weapons of every knight in Camelot. In fact, he hadn't even been carrying all of Arthur's weapons. Merlin had been confused then too, that is, until he figured out the real reason for Arthur being remotely nice to him.

Arthur went over and grabbed a few of his weapons from his pack. He didn't hand them to Merlin; instead he acted like he planned on carrying them. Merlin wondered if perhaps he was sick? Or, maybe, he'd been bashed on the head too many times in training. Had some sorcerer cast a spell on him?

When Arthur realized that neither had Merlin moved so much as an inch in an attempt to get off his horse, but was also looking at him like he'd grown two heads; he said, "What?"

"Nothing," Merlin replied, and then seemed to rethink his statement. "Actually, there is something, yes. Who are you and what have you done with Arthur? The prat I know would never carry anything that he didn't have to!" He looked at his master in disbelief; as if he couldn't understand what Arthur had been thinking.

"What? Do you want to carry all of this?" he gestured towards his pack, "The Merlin I know complains when he has to do even the slightest amount of work. I simply thought I would save myself the headache that always follows when you start whining and carry a few things."

And it looked like Arthur's lie might have convinced the thin boy as he slid off his mare, tied both horses up, and gathered up the rest of Arthur's weapons. That is, it seemed like it would work until Merlin walked up to his prince and asked matter-of-factly,

"Gaius asked you to keep an eye out for me, didn't he?"

Merlin had smiled at Arthur's reaction. Apparently he wasn't the only one Gaius could scare the crap out of when he wanted to. And he had left it at that. Arthur was simply trying not to give Gaius a reason for poisoning some of his food when they got back. Which come to think of it, it would be quite ironic; considering recent events. He had never even thought that maybe he had provided the answer for the prat; that maybe he had an ulterior motive for helping his servant.

And Merlin was extra glad as the few weapons and innocent victims he was carrying began to feel like lead that Arthur had heeded Gaius' words.

Merlin had at one point panicked when he'd realized that he hadn't heard Arthur's annoyed shouts at the sounds he was making as he walked in a little while. But then as he saw what could only be the prat's blond head, albeit a blurry one, he'd calmed down. After all, the reason he hadn't heard anything had been because his ears for some reason weren't working, and that was no real reason to worry.

Of course, somewhere in the back of his mind Merlin had known how nuts that sounded. Had known that he should be worried at how little he could see; about the black spots dancing across his vision, about how he couldn't hear a single thing, and most assuredly about how much his head hurt. But that part of his mind just wasn't loud enough, though, to get through the haze that was clouding it.

He'd been going on autopilot for a while; walking and getting up when he fell down, when the autopilot had decided to shut off. And that's when he had fallen and found himself incapable of getting up.

He'd only been lying there for a few minutes when his brain had started to clear; it's amazing what a few moments rest can do. Then Arthur had come running back and Merlin had wished that his mind had remained foggy, at least then he wouldn't have to explain his awkward situation to the prince who would probably laugh. Because even though he could now think, he still wasn't able to walk.

He had been surprised, though, when the prince hadn't laughed or yelled, or even called him a moron. Maybe he had been right; perhaps Arthur was sick.

Sick or not the prat had still been able to carry him; another awkward experience he'd rather do without. And even when they'd reached the camp and Arthur had laid him down on his temporary bed he still hadn't so much as asked what had happened. Instead he had just forced some nuts and water, which he had presumably found in one of the bags, down his throat.

It was only after the prince had managed to skin the rabbits and put them over the fire that he finally said something.

But it hadn't been what he'd expected. He'd expected to be called all sorts of names and to be told never to interrupt the prince's hunting trip again. In all honesty, though, Merlin had expected to be called all those things way before that. He knew that Arthur would sometimes fume before he started yelling, but usually not for long. The clotpole normally couldn't hold his anger in for any lengthy amount of time. So why he'd waited to start shouting for so long was a mystery to Merlin. It was almost like the prince was concerned with his servant's health; a ridiculous notion that only seemed supported by what Arthur had eventually said.

Apparently Arthur had only gotten angry because Merlin hadn't told him he was feeling poorly, not that he'd interfered with his day. And that really confused Merlin. Even though Arthur had gone to get the cure when he'd drank the poison, Merlin had always thought that was because Arthur, underneath the prattish exterior, was a noble man. Arthur really did have a good heart and therefore didn't want to see his servant die. But that's all it was. Though he would always be Arthur's friend Merlin seriously doubted if Arthur would ever be his. Especially if he found out about his magic.

Overcoming his pride would involve far too much work for the prince to ever become an ordinary servant's friend.

So even though he and Arthur no longer hated each other, and in that respect the Great Dragon was right, there could never be anything more than a vague sense of loyalty to one another. At least, that's what Merlin had been trying to convince himself of since he'd gulped down that poison. It would be so much easier lying to the prince about his magic this way; if they weren't friends.

But despite his possible gift to sense the future, Merlin would never have been able to foretell what Arthur had finally said to him. He'd gotten angry, not because of a ruined day, but because he didn't tell him he felt like crud. Who was he to be concerned with his health? Merlin had already had several scoldings from the people back in Camelot; he didn't really need another from someone who wasn't supposed to care. He wasn't supposed to care. But did he?

And then, after all that he'd been through in the last week alone; after not eating breakfast before he left, after the exhaustion and the nearly passing out, and now all of this confusion, Merlin simply had snapped. He had yelled at Arthur. He hadn't really meant to get angry; he just had such a bad headache, even with the rest that he'd managed to get while Arthur was setting up the camp.

After he realized that he'd yelled at his friend and master, and destiny apparently, he'd placed his head in his hands; trying to sort out his jumbled thoughts. I don't know what I believe anymore.

But just when he'd lifted up his head to apologize Arthur had said the strangest thing.

"Merlin, you're right…and I'm sorry."

Arthur had actually told him that not only was he right, but also that he was sorry. He'd only done this one other time before that Merlin could think of.

When he'd fired Merlin during the affair with Valiant and then come back when it turned out his servant was right. He only barely apologized and then, of course, he had given him a boatload of chores to do.

But this was different; this was an argument. An argument where Merlin had yelled at Arthur. Yet Arthur had been the one to apologize.

"What?" It's official, Merlin thought, the world is coming to an end.

Arthur looked decidedly uncomfortable. "I said I'm sorry. You're right; I have done nothing to earn the right of you telling me when something is wrong. I'm not your friend; I'm only the master who works you to the point of collapse. Are you going to take this?"

Merlin didn't know what he meant by that until he noticed that Arthur was still holding the plate of food out to him without a word Merlin took it, then wished he hadn't as he realized that there was more food on it than he could eat in an entire month.

"Arthur, I can't possibly eat all of this!" There seemed to be every kind of food under the sun on that plate. Not only did it have some of the rabbit meat which Arthur had caught and cooked on it, but it also had some of the dried meat that he had packed in the bags. It had fruit, vegetables, bread, cheese, potatoes, and basically everything else on it.

"Merlin, have you seen how thin you look? You can and you are going to eat all of that if I have to force-feed you myself." Little did Arthur know that that was something Margaret threatened the warlock with nearly every time she saw him.

Merlin smiled at the memory. Then he also smiled as he realized that Arthur knew he hadn't always been nice to his servant and was trying to do better. Maybe he did care just a little bit.

"Merlin, what did I tell you about the smiling?" Maybe not.

They sat eating in silence for a few minutes before Merlin put his still food covered plate on the ground, much to Arthur's displeasure.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asked in that prattish tone of his.

"I'm full," Merlin replied as if it was obvious, which it was.

"Merlin, you've hardly touched your food. I told you to eat all of it. And "all" means all." Arthur looked incredulously at his servant. Just because I apologized once to him doesn't mean that he gets to ignore my commands. Not that he doesn't do that anyway.

Arthur even considered saying that to the idiot, but that would involve confessing out loud that he had said "sorry" to Merlin, and he just wasn't quite there yet. It looked like they both were just going to put the argument and the following apology behind them, since neither one really knew how to act with that kind of friendship-like sentiment hanging in the air.

"Well, I'm full. I really don't see how you can expect me to eat all that food; it's more than I've had in my whole life!" Arthur suppressed a shudder at that idea, the boy was obviously exaggerating. Then he began to wonder exactly how far it was from the truth. It was true that the plate had more food on it than Arthur's dinner normally consisted of, but not by much. The prince normally would have a decent breakfast and lunch and then have a big dinner with his father. But what about Merlin; what about the boy who looked too thin to be healthy?

"And why is that, Merlin, doesn't Gaius feed you enough?" Arthur asked, trying and mostly failing to sound casual. Thankfully Merlin didn't notice.

"He tries, but he's so busy. Not to mention that even Gaius isn't brave enough to keep me from giving to you your food on time." And yet he always manages to be late, Arthur thought prattishly.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, he tried to focus on the matter at hand; why was Merlin eating enough? "Still, that's only breakfast, why don't you make time to eat? I mean, you're no use to me if you faint from hunger, if you need some extra time to eat than I can give that to you."

Merlin looked at Arthur curiously; detecting a hint of worry and kindness in the prince's tone. "I don't know, I just don't think about eating that much. It's not important." Merlin had subconsciously started eating again.

Not important? Doesn't think about it? Why the hell not?

"Merlin," Arthur said as if he was talking to a small child, which was probably because in his mind he was. "Eating is important. What, can you just block it out? How can you not think about it; its hunger?" He emphasized the last word.

"Well," Merlin began uncomfortably, shifting where he was sitting and never looking at something for more than two seconds, "growing up in Ealdor it…you had to get used to not eating sometimes." Yes, Merlin was definitely not very comfortable talking about his past, but he continued anyway, with some prompting from Arthur.

"What do you mean, 'not eating'?"

"Um, well, you have to understand. Ealdor is a small village, just outside Camelot and just barely inside Cenred's kingdom." Arthur scowled at the name of one of their enemies, and Merlin seemed to nod in agreement. "Cenred only cares for his people when it best suits his own interest. And a small village with less than a hundred people is like an ant under his boot. We make everything we need for ourselves in Ealdor, and anything we can't make we get from the caravans that pass through our town two or three times a year.

"If we have a problem, or if someone is starving, the only people to go to are the ones in the village. I never knew my father; he died before I was born, so you can imagine growing up with only my mother to take care of me." In all honesty; Arthur couldn't imagine.

"If there isn't a father, or an older brother, or an uncle, or someone, in a family, then the youngest age a boy can be considered the man of the house is thirteen. But until that particular birthday I was still just a child, I couldn't do much even if my mother let me. Which she didn't, she never let me work when I was a boy, she said she wanted me to live and be happy as long as I could." Merlin smiled a slightly sad smile at this.

"A had a best friend I used to get into so much trouble with. We'd play all sorts of pranks, and pull so many crazy stunts." Merlin laughed, completely caught up in some distant memory, so much so that Arthur felt almost like he was intruding on a private moment.

"And even when we grew up and started to take care of our loved ones we still managed to find the time to be foolish." And just like that Merlin pulled himself out of the memory. "Anyway, to answer your question, my mother had to take care of me. And let me tell you it wasn't always easy. In harsh winters or particularly hot summers things would get hard. I fainted from hunger on more than one occasion."

At this Arthur felt a cold shiver go down his spine. "You what?"

Merlin looked almost pityingly at Arthur as if he was a small, naïve child. "All your life you've been the prince of Camelot, if anyone had food it was you. I doubt you can understand. Sometimes, no matter how hard my mother tried there simply wasn't enough food. And when I'd faint from lack of food, or for any reason, she would freak out. Huh." He chuckled here, as if he was remembering something silly, knowing him he probably was. "When that happened then the whole village would get together to help me out. Everyone would find something to donate, whether food, or blankets, or just moral support. Not everyone could afford to help, but that never stopped them.

"That's why I almost liked the enormous hunger, because when I fainted the whole town would get together to make sure I was alright. It made me feel loved. I didn't know everyone in Ealdor as a friend, but that would never stop them from helping me or my mother when we desperately needed it. They're good people, some of the best." He paused for a moment as if to collect himself.

"Anyway, even when I was old enough to help my mother out it still wasn't always enough. Growing up in Ealdor you learn to get used to hunger. You also learn to know the difference between hunger, and really bad starvation."

"Then why didn't you recognize it today, Merlin?" Arthur asked, some of the old annoyance, which the look into Merlin's past of managed to bury, resurfaced.

"Well, it wasn't just hunger; it was a lot of things."

Arthur suppressed a cringe at that. It certainly was a lot of things. All of which could've be dealt with if Arthur had just noticed them in time, preferably before Merlin had been rendered unable to walk.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said for the third time that day; he hoped that it wasn't going to become a habit. "I had no idea your life was that hard."

"Well, it wasn't always. Besides; in some ways it's gotten easier since coming to Camelot, plenty of food, an actual physician. If anyone got sick in Ealdor then they would go to the few mothers in the village who knew little bit about medicine.

"But in other ways it's worse; being here."

Arthur had a sinking feeling in his gut that he knew why, but he asked anyway, "Why? How's it harder?" It wasn't what he had expected.

"Another thing I don't expect you to understand. All my life in Ealdor I had a best friend. We used to get into all sorts of horrible messes. But we'd get out of them, or usually, clean them up together. Whenever someone got scolded then the other person was there right along with them. If one of us got injured then the other would help take care of him. Will and I…we, we were the best of friends. We'd always tell each other everything; our secrets, when we thought the other person was being particularly stupid, when an idea one of us had was a bad one. Everything. That's the mark of a true friend. But here, in Camelot, I don't have that, I have Gaius, who's like a father to me…the father I never had, I have Gwen, but we're not really all that close. I don't have a really great friend here."

Arthur heard the words that were not being said; Merlin was lonely, perhaps not all the time, but he was lonely. So he decided to tell him his secret; to tell him about the cave.

"When you were…poisoned, Merlin, and I went to...find the Morteus flower I...I met a woman." Arthur had known it would be hard to tell Merlin his strange secret; apparently he'd had no idea.

"You met a woman?" Merlin asked, looking quite like he'd just been slapped and then told something funny. Obviously he didn't know whether to be insulted at this weird change in conversation or to laugh. "Well, was she pretty?"

"What? Yes, I suppose she was, but that's not really important. She pretended to be someone in need of help, but she was, in fact, a sorceress."

At this Merlin's body froze up, his mind whirring with the possibilities of what these few words could mean. Of course Arthur saw it and mistook it as the usual reaction that people have when magic is brought up. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. But he plowed right on; determined to tell him, after all, if he couldn't tell his idiot servant then who could he tell?

"Of course I didn't know that until she left me hanging from a cave wall with no light and great big spiders crawling towards me. I-I was afraid, Merlin. I thought I was going to die. The giant spiders would reach me and kill me if I didn't fall and die before then. And even if I could've out climbed them it was far too dark to see the flower, let alone the way out. I literally believed that there was no way out; that I would die any minute." The more of the story Arthur told; the easier it got to tell it. The retelling already seemed to be therapeutic for him.

Merlin, on the other hand, felt as if his mind was tying itself into knots. Not only was he trying to see where the story was going; if Arthur was going to accuse him of anything…what's the word, oh right, punishable by death, but he was trying to piece together what may have happened with the information Gaius gave him. He was also doing his best to understand the many different emotions flitting over Arthur's face. And after everything he'd that had happened today, that was a whole lot of things to be attempting to figure out.

Arthur continued talking; completely oblivious to his servant's plight, as usual. "Then this…blue orb of brilliant light appeared and…well, saved me."

Out of all the things Merlin had expected Arthur to say; that had never been on the list. Apparently his shock was plainly written on his face since Arthur said,

"I know, not exactly what a prat would normally say." He smiled with not even a hint of annoyance anywhere on his features. "But it did, it saved me. I mean, at first I thought it was going to kill me, but those thoughts stopped when I felt it. I felt the light and…well, there's only one word to describe it; pure. It was pure. There was no evil or malice in that light, only kindness, peace and a desire to help me.

"My father would say that someone cast a spell on me and for all I know that's true. But that light didn't feel evil, there wasn't so much as a hint of evil in it. It only felt healing, not addictive.

"That orb of light lit up the cave enough to not only show me a way out, but to also get the flower. So I could say that it even ended up saving you, Merlin. Though, honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if that was it's real reason for coming to me all along." At Merlin's confused and prompting look he added, "Every time I remember that thing I think of you."

Immediately Merlin's body tensed up again as if he was suddenly blasted with a wave of cold air. Does Arthur know about my magic? If so then why hasn't he killed me yet? Is he just toying with me?

Arthur chuckled as he got part of the reason why Merlin was so nervous right. "Don't be silly, Merlin, I know that you don't practice magic." Merlin relaxed. "If anyone is incapable of using magic it's you." At these words he became and looked extremely offended; something that the prince didn't fail to notice. "Oh, come on, you can't even walk in a straight line, besides, I would think that it would be a sort of a complement."

A very backwards complement, especially considering that magic isn't necessarily evil, Merlin thought. Still, he had to admit that Arthur was right, he didn't exactly look or act like someone who possessed magic.

"Anyway, what I meant by that was…was that if you did practice magic then saving me would be exactly the type of thing you'd do. After all, it would have to be someone like you who'd use magic to save a Pendragon's life. Not only do you occasionally have strange bouts of wisdom, but you also happen to be one of the most innocent and kind people I've ever met," Arthur said sincerely, then, realizing that he'd just given him a complement he added, "for an idiot."

Merlin smiled.

"Anyhow, it also would make sense that whoever saved me motive's would be saving you. It's impossible to hate you, get extremely annoy at you yes, but not hate you." He paused for a moment. "All in all, I suppose you could say that that light saved me just by giving me hope, not to mention the other ways it helped me out.

"And I suppose that the whole point of this story is to tell you that you're not alone."

"What?"

"You heard me, you're not alone. The magic that saved me was pure; it was very different from the magic I'm used to seeing. If I met the sorcerer that cast it I wouldn't kill him. I'd thank him and hope that one day, perhaps when I'm king, that I would be able to see him again. Or her. I wouldn't kill him because he saved my life. You saved my life Merlin, and I went and saved yours.

"I suppose that what I'm trying to say is that…I will always try to be there for you to get you out of any messes, whether you make those messes or not. We can't technically be friends, but I hope that maybe, just maybe you don't have to be alone."

Merlin stared; both he and Arthur had been told things that blew their minds, Merlin perhaps the most. Arthur had almost told him that they were friends and he and blatantly confessed that he wouldn't kill a sorcerer on sight, even if that special circumstance belonged to only one magic user. A magic user that just happened to be Merlin.

Gaius had told him about the magic he had conjured up when he was dying from that dreadful poison, and had even told him what he thought the magic was supposed to do. He'd also mentioned something about how he had to be a particularly powerful sorcerer to cast such magic while dying.

But Merlin hadn't known exactly what he'd done, he'd hoped that maybe he'd given Arthur some unnoticeable help, but he had no idea it was anything of this magnitude.

But now, after being told exactly what he'd done, and exactly the effect it had on Arthur, he could truthfully say that he was rather happy that he'd been poisoned. Of course, the pain hadn't been particularly pleasant, but he could deal with pain, especially when it came to this. Perhaps one day he'd have a chance to both be friends with Arthur and to tell him his secret, and that was worth almost anything to him.

For the second time in two days Merlin smiled one of those rare smiles. And Arthur smiled back. They both had things to think over. But Merlin was happy that he no longer felt alone and Arthur was happy that not only had he told Merlin something he'd been waiting to tell him since it happened, but also at the fact that the boy looked happier than he'd seen him since before the poisoning.

Little did they know that soon all their happiness and contentment would disappear and that something else much darker would take its place.

Well, there you have it, I hope it was to your liking. Please review as always. (: