A/N : Hi guys! I'm so so sorry it took me this long, but I've been really caught up in finals, and they only finished yesterday - so ta da! The next chapter is here. I decided to go with the first scenario, with the possibility of taking the metamorphosis storyline to another story - because I still think it has potential, and I've heard some of you agree with me.

Anyway, pleaaaase let me know what you think? I see some of you have put the story (or me) on alert - and I'm so so happy that you want to stick with this story, but oh - reviews mean the world to me, and I would really love some.

XO, as alwaysMerlin

Merlin whirled around to where the voice had come from, and bowed his head slightly, submissively, when he was faced with the King's disapproving gaze. "Y - yes, sire," he stumbled. "She's much better now, thank you."

Uther shook his head slightly. "I care little for her life – as I care about yours. And I certainly hope you haven't returned to Camelot in the hopes of having your old job back." He paused, wanting to make sure the tension had built to the ammount where one word, spoken by him, could silence the foolish servant forever. "It's been taken."

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again before any sound escaped his lips. Because really, what was there to say? If he disobeyed the king, he would no doubt end up in the stocks, or locked away in the dungeons and be denied food for at least a week. And Arthur's life would be in grave danger without Merlin there to protect him.

"I'll handle this, father."

Merlin froze. Arthur had sneaked up on the both of them, slowly nearing from behind – and he was reminded of the prince's list of what it took to be a great hunter : speed, stealth, and an agile mind. The young servant possessed none of those qualities, and certainly not now. Everything inside of him tensed, and he swore he could hear the rushing of his blood.

"Arthur." Uther's smile spread around his lips, and it was one of these few moments when Merlin realised that he really did care about his son – one moment he dared to hope that Uther would spare his life when finding out about all the times his magic had actually saved Arthur, rather than trying to destroy him. "Your former servant had returned to the realm, it seems."

"I can see, father. I'll return to dinner in a second, but you go ahead." It was a silent order given to the King, and for a split second Merlin wondered if he was going to obey it. After all the times Arthur had disobeyed his father, it wouldn't be strange to assume that his father would return the favor. But something in his voice must have sounded as a warning to the man, for he turned on his heel and walked back into the dining room with large strides, making his position known to the world.

And still, Merlin didn't dare turn around and face him. His shoulders, rigid and tense were nearly drawn up to the level of his chin and his feet were rooted to the ground. This time, he could distinguish the sound of the heavy footsteps to the floor, and when the vision of his friend came into sight, he wasn't surprised to see a blank face – devoid of any kind of emotion. If Arthur was happy to see him, he certainly didn't let it show.

He didn't yell at him either, for he didn't even speak. Arthur just stared at him, the harshness slowly coming to his features. His brow furrowed and his eyes flashed with something Merlin couldn't place, but the rigidness of his jaw betrayed his anger.

"You want to know why I came back." It wasn't even a question that escaped his lips, it was a statement. He hadn't even noticed he had spoken until Arthur returned the statement with one of his own.

"I'm not sure I want to know anything about you."

"I can understand that," Merlin acknowledged, his mouth drier than it had ever been. If Arthur turned him away now, there was no possibility of ever regaining his trust – his good opinion once lost was lost forever – and he would surely die before this month had passed. Please, he pleaded silently. Let me be there to protect you. "But still, I'm asking you to trust me."

Arthur shook his head violently, but Merlin didn't give up – Merlin wouldn't give up. He took a step closer and tried to persuade the prince to give their friendship another chance. "I'm asking you to trust me, the way you did when I warned you about Valliant, and when I took the goblet from your hands to drink it myself. I didn't let you down then, so believe me when I tell you that I won't let you down this time around."

"The only way you knew of their evil is because you practise it yourself." His voice was a low rumble that came from deep inside his chest, near the place where Merlin had wounded him. "How am I supposed to trust you, when you lied to me this entire time? How am I supposed to believe that anything you tell me is truthful?"

"Because it just is!" His voice sounded desperate, and it struck something inside of Arthur. Damn it, he cursed, he couldn't turn away. He couldn't forgive his friend – not just yet – but he at least owed it to him to be able to prove him wrong. "Be at work tomorrow – bright and early."

"Yes." It was barely a whisper, but the impact of the one word was just as great as the needy cry for trust. "Thank you."

-

Arthur

"Arthur.." Gwen had whispered, the fear as evident in her voice as the blue was to the sky. Her eyes had fixed on something in the near distance, and he followed them to where his father was standing, tall and proud, his lips moving as he spoke to a hidden partner. So Merlin hadn't been that far off to begin with. A small sigh escaped his lips as he debated whether to save this particular prey from the clutches of his father's wicked claws, or to just let him stew for a while. Maybe Merlin deserved whatever his father handed to him.

…and maybe not.

"Excuse me, for a minute."

Gwen smiled slighty, and it seemed as if she were almost proud of him. "Sure."

Arthur felt the need to inwardly roll his eyes at her antics, but he just drew his lips into a thin line, not wanting to smile at her – not wanting to grant the hope that Merlin and he would actually be alright with eachother, that everything could be forgiven and forgotten. He wasn't prone to forget – some things lost could never be regained.

Deep inside of him, he felt that this wasn't one of them. But he had a right to be angry, and he would fully exercise that right.

-

His servant had laid out his clothes when he got out of bed the next morning, and he was momentarily taken aback. He'd forgotten the young man was even there and hadn't even given him any thought when he rehired Merlin. This servant was all right, he was eager to always please his master and Arthur knew that he needed the money to look out for his wife and their new born babe. Sacking him would be unfair.

So he let the man dress him, clasp the armour around his shoulder and fasten the bracelets on his wrists. Merlin came in just when they were finished, and his eyes betrayed the shame he felt when he saw someone had taken his place.

Arthur cleared his throat to ease the awkwardness, yet it did nothing to improve the atmosphere. "Merlin, walk with me."

Merlin

Sure, he supposed it was only natural that Arthur didn't sack his servant just for his sake, but he couldn't help feeling a stab of jealousy when he noticed the man had begun his chores for the day – the chores he was supposed to be doing. More than that – he felt inadequate. There was no doubt in his mind that this man was a better servant than he, no doubt at all that he would be completing every task with the utmost precision. Yet, he concluded, there was no way that this servant was as loyal to Arthur, as connected to Arthur, than he was himself.

In a way, though, it was once again proof of Arthur's pure goodness and of his gentle character. Gwen had been right at Arthur's coming of age ceremony. Merlin was more proud of Arthur than he ever dared to admit out loud.

They walked together, silently, and Merlin wondered when the day would come when the silence didn't weigh so heavily between them. But the ball lay in Arthur's side of the court, and it was up to him to pick it up and smash it back.

"How many times have you saved my life without me knowing?"

Bragging wasn't something Merlin wanted to do – in fact, he felt it was his duty not to. And really, he felt there were a lot of times when he'd screwed up, as well. So he merely shook his head. "On occasion."

Arthur came to a full stop and turned to him, almost as if he couldn't believe Merlin wouldn't fess up to his accomplishments. "Merlin, if there was ever a time bragging was allowed, it's now."

"That's not what I'm after, not at all. I don't save your life because I want the credit, Arthur. I try to protect you as best I can because I'm your friend – and I need to be there for you."

The prince rolled his eyes. "Really, Merlin. How noble of you." He taunted, and Merlin realized that maybe Arthur didn't already feel what he had all along : that they were connected, inexplicably so. Of course, Arthur hadn't befriended the all-knowing dragon his father had caged, who had thrown the reality of it all in Merlin's face. The young sorcerer had been forced to face the facts – Arthur needed to find them out on his own.

They had started marching again, out to the courtyard, nearing the stables – and still Merlin had no idea as to what Arthur needed of him. Not up until the moment Arthur threw him a brush and motioned to his horse. Right. Brushing. He pulled open the door to the box and walked towards the animal, setting it at ease by drawing his hand along its slender neck. He drew the brush against it, up and down – up and down, a steady rhythm, while waiting for Arthur to speak again.

He leaned against the opened door and looked on, a quizzical look on his face. Eventually he exhaled heavily. "You don't want to tell me? Fine. Keep your secrets. There's only one thing I need to know."

Merlin shifted his gaze and smiled slightly. "One thing." He amended.

"When you were poisoned and I rode to the forest of Balor – you knew I was in danger, didn't you?"

"Yes." He had felt the danger in his very bones – every part of him, poisoned or otherwise, had alerted him what his friend was facing.

"And it was you who sent the light to guide me."

Merlin smiled again. "That's the second thing you're asking, your grace."

"Merlin.." Arthur warned. It was no time to mess with him, but Merlin couldn't let it slide – it was too tempting to tease Arthur, and he had hoped that in doing so, some of the ease with which they used to converse would return.

He turned to the horse, grateful for the distraction, and leaned his forehead against the animal, feeling its whole body move in breathing. "Yes." He eventually said. "That was me."

"But you were unconscious. You were dying, Merlin. Where on earth did you find the strength to – does it come that easily to you?"

He shook his head. "It's not always easy – I could… I mean I couldn't do it that easily, at that time – but I knew I needed to, because you needed to be okay."

"You really are keen to die for me, aren't you? You're an idiot, Merlin."

He smiled. "Yeah – I've been told that a lot."

So? Please tell me what you think? Pleaaase?

XO, as always