A/N: Writing this chapter nearly killed me, fair warning. I had to wrestle it into submission and I really hope it works.

All right...so...we left at the worst possible moment, when Arthur's sword was dragged down by the weight of the ages...

Merlin writhed in his bonds, excruciating pain aborting every attempt to open his eyes. His hands were tied and his eyes…he couldn't focus any magic without his eyes. He couldn't help Arthur. He couldn't do anything.

Arthur was helpless. His traitorous sword, still in his grip, lay limply behind him, impossible to lift, much less swing a killing blow or, more importantly, block one.

The giant's eyes lit up as soon as the panic showed on Arthur's face, and he smiled.

It was not a nice smile.

Merlin pulled his head up blindly and, eyes shut and streaming, forced his senses to focus again, to read the living things around him. There. The giant, over Arthur, was swinging his sword down like a battleaxe. Merlin gasped. At the last second, Arthur stepped to the side, evading the stroke, and threw a strong right to the giant's nose that did nothing.

Merlin groaned, feeling his magic build uselessly. If they had only left his hands free…

The giant's next swing made contact and Arthur yelled as the blade sliced through his chain mail. No! Merlin stood and strained forward until he was bent like a bow. Power pulsed through him.

Annis caught her breath. Arthur was on his knees, struggling against Morgana's magic like a moth caught by one wing. Derrian's blade was poised to cleave the king's head from his shoulders, just recompense for the loss of Caerleon's king.

Victory was nearly theirs.

Then two things happened at once: the servant boy screamed, somehow a wail of agony and blood-pounding rage both, while on the field, Arthur suddenly fell back as though shoved. He was flat on his back when Derrian's blade swung through, missing him completely. That was magic. It had been years since Annis had seen it.

Annis sent a hard look at Morgana. "Did you do that?"

"Of course I didn't. I want him dead as much as you do," Morgana spat.

Derrian roared and looked over his shoulder at Annis in confusion. She gestured to him to continue. He refocused on Arthur, who had rolled onto his side and was slowly climbing to his feet. The king's sword was on the grass, and in his hand was a dagger.

Each warrior was allowed two weapons, but Annis was surprised at Arthur's choice. Then again, what choice did he have? "Looks like your magic is now useless," Annis said to Morgana pointedly. The girl's face had gone bloodless.

"No," she whispered. Her eyes glowed gold.

"Stop!" Annis gripped her arm and shook her slightly. Morgana looked at her, shocked, but her eyes blue once more. "I will not have your emotional outbursts endangering my kingdom."

"But I can make him lose," Morgana said in a choked voice. "He needs to lose."

"No. Not that way."

Annis released her and focused once more on the two figures in front of them. An instinct was screaming at her to be wary. There was more going on here than she had first thought.

Arthur was sweating heavily in his chain mail. He couldn't catch quite a deep enough breath. The dagger felt like nothing, like a feather in his hand to face down that enormous scythe of a sword. But he was still alive, somehow, and he was on his feet.

With this weapon, he would only get one or two chances.

The giant lumbered forward and Arthur watched for an opening, a way to dodge the inevitable sword stroke and attack with the dagger. No opening yet. Arthur's side pulled painfully with every step backward. There was no way; the giant's reach was too long. Arthur gritted his teeth, turned and ran.

Jeers broke out from the barbarian army in a cacophony of hatred. Morgana laughed. Only seconds away from Arthur's demise now…

Annis watched the king change strategies. She watched Morgana; and she watched the serving boy stirring again. A feeling of dread uncoiled in her stomach.

If she was right...then her thirst for revenge might have led her to make the biggest mistake of her life.

As soon as the darkness receded a little, Merlin was focusing again. Arthur was still alive, still fighting, and he'd left the sword behind. Actually, he'd left the whole fight behind. He was running. Finally showing some sense. And…a dagger? That was his weapon?

The giant was roaring as he pounded after Arthur. Merlin stood and focused, trembling like a leaf caught in a spiderweb. The king had to be saved at all costs. Spikes of pain exploded like shooting stars in Merlin's mind. He tried to maintain focus. Arthur…

Merlin pushed out with his magic desperately, gasping—

—a sword raised to strike Arthur's head from his shoulders—

—white hot fury, reaching—

—farther—

There! He found the giant, and—

Silence fell as Annis's champion froze in his tracks. Bellowing in pain, Derrian arched back and dropped his sword to the ground behind him. Annis knew Derrian well, had seen him fight nearly two hundred battles. Pain never stopped him; it made him angry. But this...

The queen's gaze slid to the servant boy. He was rigid, furious, and somehow, even with his eyesight obliterated, still focused on his king below.

"You fool," she spat at Morgana as she strode away.

Morgana barely heard Annis's words. The giant was on his knees before the king. To the sound of hundreds of Camelot's soldiers applauding and yelling—that braggart Gwaine loudest of all—Arthur stepped forward and drove his dagger in and out of Derrian's left shoulder.

How cute. An injury that matched Merlin's.

Then she watched in amazement as Arthur dropped his dagger and proceeded to beat the giant mercilessly. After a minute, the king stopped and looked at Merlin. Morgana glanced over as well, to see that Annis had already bade her people take the boy down and begin treating his injuries. Oh, she knew how to play the game all right.

Morgana crossed her arms. If this was the part where everybody made up and became friends again, they could count her out.

Arthur looked back down at the giant, swaying on his knees before him. "You've always shown mercy on the battlefield before, Arthur. You never seek to humiliate your enemies. This isn't like you." The king could hear Merlin's words clearly in his head. Only two more strikes then.

He made a fist and drove it into the giant's right eye, rocking him back. One more punch to the left eye and this time, the giant went down, bloody and beaten.

Arthur took a few deep breaths, then picked up his weapons and cleaned them hastily. His sword seemed fine now. He shoved it in its scabbard. The pain from the slice in his side took his breath away. He paused to brace his right arm by hooking the hand on the collar of his armor. With a single grunt of pain, he strode foward. Gwaine was a few lengths ahead of him, already heading for Queen Annis and the litter bearing Merlin. Of course, two of Annis' guards stepped forward to stop him.

"Just give me an excuse! Come on!" Gwaine yelled, pulling out his sword.

"Gwaine, stop! Put your sword away," he admonished as he reached him. Annis' men had not drawn weapons, much to the knight's frustration, and as Arthur approached, they moved away. The men bearing Merlin's litter set him down on the ground and Gwaine was there instantly.

"My god," he said softly.

Arthur was so close to Merlin now that his servant's stillness and injury pulled at him like a force of nature. But he would not look; his earlier reaction told him to leave that to a private moment. Instead, his eyes drilled into Annis's as she approached. "Your highness, the appalling treatment of my servant is an insult of the gravest kind. This was a helpless man, an innocent man, left in your care. How shall you answer for it?"

Annis met his eyes easily. "I shall answer readily. This was no ordinary meeting between us, King Arthur, as well you know. When you came to plead your case before me, you had already paid me an insult of the gravest kind in the death of my husband." Arthur looked down when she paused. He could not regret that decision more. But Annis was not done. "My blood was running hot for revenge and it demanded that I repay hurt for hurt. In Caerleon, justice is often meted out in such a manner. That does not, however, make it right in a matter between kingdoms." She sighed. "For the suffering of your servant, I ask your forgiveness. If it were in my power to undo it, I would do so. As penance, I will pay whatever recompense you may deem appropriate."

Arthur waved a hand to dismiss the gesture. No gold would be enough.

"Very well. Then do have I your word that you will not seek retribution other than what you have inflicted upon my servant? I believe you were very thorough in repaying us pain for pain."

Arthur looked over to where the giant lay on his back, being tended to by a few of Caerleon's men. The giant did look to be in some pain. Arthur inclined his head.

"You have my word, such as it is."

She smiled thinly. "I have learned to treat your word with the respect it is due."

Arthur's brow furrowed. Annis was a mystery. He couldn't, for all the gold in Camelot, tell if she was truly regretful for her actions or simply taking advantage of his guilt-ridden conscience. Either way, his path was clear. "Then let us put these events behind us. In our blindness, each of us has stolen something from the other, and then made an effort to make it right. Until such a time as mistakes can be unmade, the only solution is to go forward and try to make no more. I am for peace, and would have Camelot and Caerleon as peaceful neighbors again. Will you join me in endeavoring to make it so?"

"I will. You did not kill my champion when his life was in your hands and there was still rage in your heart." She gave him an appraising look. "I believe in your peace. And so, you may be sure I will comply absolutely with the terms of our agreement. My army will be gone by nightfall."

"Thank you, your highness."

Annis held out her arm, palm up. Arthur hesitated, then stepped forward and gripped her arm firmly. They held like that a moment, measuring each other with their eyes. Arthur, for the first time since he had heard Annis's name, felt a measure of reassurance. Evidently, Annis did as well. Was that relief in her eyes?

"There is something about you, Arthur Pendragon…something that gives me hope for us all."

This time when she said his full name, it did not sound like an insult.

Gwaine shed his gloves and started to check Merlin for injuries, ignoring the royal conversation going on nearby. Kings and queens wasted too much time talking. Merlin could be dying and they were just going to stand there and let him. Gwaine cursed under his breath and tried to stop the thundering of his heart.

First off, he checked the puncture wound in Merlin's shoulder. Arthur had told them about that earlier. It was bandaged underneath his torn shirt, but fresh blood was saturating the material, of course. They'd had the boy tied up like a scarecrow, for god's sake, even knowing that he was injured.

Gwaine next studied his face, which was bruised, bloodied and swollen to a horrific degree. The left eye seemed the worst of it. Gwaine gently tilted Merlin's face and saw the reason. The bone over his left eye caved in at the browline, broken. Gwaine reached out, but stopped himself before touching the break. He had to pause, take in a deeper breath. To think of someone hitting Merlin that hard…it made him physically sick.

"All right, Gwaine?" Elyan asked softly, a hand on his shoulder. Gwaine shook his head. He hadn't even realized the other knights were there yet. For some reason they were standing back, watching him. Where was the healer?

"Looks like the gang is all here, Merlin," Gwaine murmured, forcing himself back to the job. He pulled down the blanket Annis's guards had hastily thrown over Merlin's body and sent a ghosting touch across the long collar bones disappearing under Merlin's ragged shirt. Neither was broken. Merlin's shoulders were not dislocated, not damaged beyond the puncture wound. Good. His arms were straight and the bones whole.

Gwaine paused when he got to Merlin's hands. The right was black with dried blood, probably from the shoulder wound, bruised, and two of the long fingers were bent at odd angles, swollen black and blue. Defensive wounds. His left hand had a bruise like a heel mark from a boot. This took another few deep breaths to process.

Gwaine looked away, grief and rage wrestling for dominance. This is usually when he would be attacking someone or getting drunk off his arse. And now, he could do neither. At some point, Arthur had come over to stand beside him. Gwaine looked up at the king who was avoiding looking at Merlin.

"Is he…all right?" Arthur finally asked.

Gwaine gave him a disgusted look.

"I mean…I know he's not all right," Arthur amended quickly. "I meant, how bad are his injuries?"

"Not done yet," Gwaine growled, then turned back to Merlin. Why was he the only one doing this? He bent over, tugging Merlin's shirt up to take a look at his ribs, cursing again at a dark patch on his left side. He touched the bruise gently and felt the bone give—cracked or maybe broken. The one beside it as well. "Two broken ribs, sire." He made the words sound as insolent as he could, because he was angry. Arthur said nothing.

Quickly now, worried what he would find, Gwaine checked the boy's hip bones, ran a gentle hand down each leg and felt around Merlin's ankles. He found no other injuries and breathed a little easier. There were sure to be bruises, but, all in all…

Gwaine stood, feeling a new grimness take hold of him. He turned to Arthur, who was watching him with furrowed brow. "Not as bad as I expected. Most of his injuries were done on the outside, where they were sure to be seen."

Arthur eyes glittered with emotion before he spun away. "Get him up so we can leave this wretched place."

Gwaine took one corner of the litter, with Leon, Percival and Elyan taking the others. They lifted Merlin and followed after Arthur.

Percival, Elyan, Gwaine and Leon all helped carry Merlin back to Camelot's camp. Arthur, who still had an injury to take care of, found it difficult enough to make the walk himself. Merlin did not stir at all during the journey. As his litter passed by, knights moved out of the way and stood respectfully to the side. It made quite a picture as the sunset painted the sky, knights bowing their heads and standing by in awe. Had Merlin been aware, he would have been shocked to find himself the object of such quiet contemplation.

Arthur walked behind the litter struggling to keep the dark at bay.

Was it hours or days later that Arthur sat and watched Merlin breathe? Time was literally crawling by, had been ever since the first moments Arthur had truly seen Merlin's face. They were in the tent now, both having been tended to by healers. Gaius was still on his way from Camelot, and the others had been ordered to leave them alone.

How long ago had that been? Arthur had almost gotten used to the way his servant looked. Or at least, it didn't cause him physical pain to look at him, as it had at first. Annis was wise to get his promise beforehand that he wouldn't seek revenge. Because otherwise…

Arthur shook his head and tried to keep his thoughts from traveling down that road. Again. Ironically, when his thoughts got this dark, it was his servant who usually helped steer him on to more helpful, practical footing. Not this time. This time he had to face the consequences of his actions alone.

"Sire?" Sir Leon was standing there, at the entrance to the king's tent.

"Yes?"

"The healer wanted you to rest, to help that wound heal."

"I am resting, Sir Leon."

"Lying down would be preferable, sire."

"Yes. It probably would," he returned tersely.

"When Gaius gets here, he probably won't be happy with you."

"No, he will not, but it won't be because I'm not resting properly. Leave me."

"But, sire—"

Arthur's curt gesture cut him off. The knight retreated. Arthur once again went back to watching Merlin's chest rise and fall. The healer had wrapped his servant's chest in bandages, trying to give support to the broken ribs. Merlin's fingers had also gotten bathed and wrapped. His face had looked better once they had gotten the blood off, but his eyes had been so swollen and the skin around them so damaged that the healer had put salve on them and covered them as well.

Arthur was dreading Gaius's arrival. However, his lateness had proven a blessing. This way, he hadn't seen Merlin at his worst. There was a flurry of motion at the door, and then the voice Arthur had been dreading to hear.

"Where is he?"

"This way, Gaius." Leon opened the tent and in swept Gaius, his bag of supplies at his side. He dropped it as soon as he got a look at Merlin.

"S-s-sire, I had no idea. They-they said he was injured…" Gaius looked at Arthur.

"Please, take a look. He's already been treated." Arthur stood stiffly and moved out of the way.

"And you, sire?"

"Already taken care of. Please…see to Merlin."

Gaius nodded, his eyes bright. Arthur turned away as Gaius moved over to the bed. "Oh my boy," he heard Gaius whisper. That did it. Arthur's self-control melted like wax in flame and then he was sitting, tears rolling unchecked down his face, choking on sobs that came from some deep unknown place. He buried his face in his hands and cried.

After a time, someone helped him on to his cot and he stretched out, exhausted in more ways than one.

A kind, familiar hand smoothed his brow. "He is healing nicely, sire. Rest yourself."

"It's my fault," Arthur whispered, to everyone, to no one.

"Merlin will be fine, Arthur. I'll see to it."

"Thank you, Gaius. Thank you," Arthur clung for a moment to the kind hand before turning over and drifting off into sleep.