And the day is here, I can't believe it. In reality, this was the biggest thing I have ever done in terms of fanfiction. This reveal was the one thing that I had looked forward to the most when sitting down to write this story, and looking over it now I am more than happy with how it turned out. Of course, I did still edit the crap out of it.

How was everyone's break? Mine consisted of one word: Netflix. For three days straight I watched like 7 hours of Supernatural per day. Yeah, ouch.

So this is kind of a late birthday present to myself, WHO IS OFFICIALLY NOW AN OFFICIAL TEENAGER! My birthday is only 3 days after Colin's, which I think is awesome. So happy belated birthday to him as well.

Sorry, this author's note was REALLY long today!

Chapter 22 ~The Moment of Truth

Where Jonah's servant had been standing not a moment before, Arthur suddenly saw Merlin. It was like living in a dream and then waking up to see the world in stunning clarity.

"Merlin," he finally managed to say. "Merlin."

The warlock looked like he'd just been slapped, eyes wide and round as saucers.

For a moment Arthur was afraid that he was wrong. Jonah's servant wasn't actually Merlin. His friend was still dead and he was just seeing strange, forgotten dreams in his waking hours.

But then Merlin gave a little lopsided smile and Arthur knew everything was going to be okay. Merlin's smile had that effect on people, you just couldn't help but smile back.

Merlin was rigid with shock. His thoughts screamed at him, too many things to make sense of never mind count. He was happy and afraid at the same time. What if Arthur thought he was an imposter? Worse, what if Isobel found out that Arthur knew and made him her next target? What if Arthur was still angry at him?

He recalled the fight him and the king had had just before the slavers took him. Arthur had been so angry, even though Merlin hadn't known why.

"Arthur, I-" The next thing Merlin knew, Arthur had crossed the distance between him and thrown his arms around the skinny slave, silencing him.

The warlock was too shocked to do more then just stand there awkwardly, stiff as a board. Arthur was actually hugging him.

The king pulled away, hands still firmly clasped on Merlin's shoulders. "Oh, Gods. Merlin," he laughed, a smile stretching across his face.

"Arthur," Merlin said, properly smiling himself now.

"You're alive!"

"Great observation, your highness," he sassed. It was almost funny how easy it was. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

Arthur laughed, much to Merlin's incredulity. His face almost immediately sobered. "How? I- you were dead, the slave traders killed you!" he said, as if daring Merlin to disagree with his story.

"No. Whatever they said, they were lying. They didn't kill me. Look," he said, grinning and gripping Arthur's shoulder. "I'm alive, not dead. And it is me. You're not being tricked or anything," he laughed.

Merlin had just addressed Arthur's most prominent fears. He knew Merlin could see the doubt in his eyes. No matter how much he wanted to believe that this person really was Merlin and that his best friend wasn't really dead he just couldn't; not with all of the deception and trickery in his past.

He pushed Merlin's hand away, stepping back and taking notice of the sword behind him on the table. If he had to resort to desperate measures he would, because nobody could pretend to be Merlin and get away with it when the king was around. He wouldn't allow his manservant's memory to be tainted in the way. "But how do I know, hm? How can I tell that you're not just a sorcerer in disguise, or a plan of Morgana's?" Arthur pulled the sword from the table, gripping the pommel so tightly it turned his fingers white. "What if you're like Lancelot, a dead person come back just to betray me?"

This confrontation really wasn't going the way Merlin had anticipated. He stuttered desperate responses. "Arthur, please listen to me! Its Merlin, its me you clotpole!" he said weakly, holding back a coughing fit that was sure to present itself later. "I'm not going to betray you, I promise." Even to Merlin the words sounded empty, he was betraying him right now lying to Arthur about his magic.

The king visibly deflated, his shoulders sagging and his sword point coming to rest on the floor. "Then why..." Arthur struggled to get the words out. "Why didn't you come back?" He sounded like a child not invited out to play, asking why he had been forgotten.

The words were like ice to Merlin's already weak heart. He found himself feeling guilty, even though he had done nothing wrong. He had wanted to come back but he'd been made a slave and locked away, making it a bit hard to get back home.

"Why, Merlin, after three bloody years, did you decide to come back?" He asked, more anger than sadness this time. Arthur could feel tears pressing up against his eyes. "Why did you go all this time without saying anything to me? Did you even want me to find out?"

Merlin grappled for the words, but his tongue felt like lead in his mouth.

"Oh, I see you've gotten yourself another job in Mercia as well. And and Jonah's manservant too! Did you even care that there were some people here in Camelot who wanted you to come back? Who thought you were dead and mourned your passing? Did you even care?" Arthur's world was breaking around him, destroying the formerly fond image he'd always kept close to his heart of his friend. No longer was he the valiant servant, but the uncaring runaway who had left his life for another.

"I wanted to come back but I couldn't!" Merlin cried desperately, ignoring the accusations that made his insides churn.

Arthur stepped forwards again, looking about a minute away from punching Merlin in the face. "Why the hell not?" he questioned disbelievingly. "Its not like anyone made you stay there!" Then the truth dawned on Arthur, his face contorting as he realized what had happened.

All the anger drained from the king's face, instead replaced by a look so rarely seen by others: weakness. "No," he whispered as he shook his head. "They couldn't have..."

Merlin decided to seize the opportunity, he wasn't letting the slave get a word in edgewise. "Arthur, I wanted to come back so badly. Every day I thought of Camelot, wishing I could be here. But Isobel-." He was cut off by the massive amounts of pain his body was put through, filling every fiber of his being and making him feel like he was on fire. He felt his legs give out from beneath him and the ground rushing up to meet his face.

"-rlin? Merlin!"

He registered Arthur's voice from somewhere above him, yelling something at him, but it made no sense to the warlock. He heard distant screaming and wondered who it was, before realizing that it was coming from his own throat.

But there was so much pain, too much for Merlin's body to withstand. It was like a lit torch being taken to every part of his body.

Merlin had often dreamed about burning like so many of his kind had on the pyre. Since Uther's death the fear had receded, but it was still there. He imagined this is what it would feel like, the flames licking hungrily at your body and the smoke clogging your throat and making it hard to breathe.

The last thing Merlin heard before he descended into darkness was Arthur screaming his name.

I bet nobody expected that. Heck, I didn't even expect it until I was actually writing it.

Is anyone else off school today? My mom didn't want to send me cause the buses weren't cancelled even though the roads were horrible and my school is really far because I'm in the Advanced Learning program or whatever its called so I can't walk.

So thanks to everyone for the reviews (the story really has a lot now) and I just want to see if we could maybe, possibly, get to 400 before I post the next chapter. Since this is one of the climaxes of the story (and something EVERYONE'S been waiting for) I hope it'll beat all of the other review counts out of the water!

DID ANYONE ELSE WATCH THE SIGN OF THREE AND CRY LIKE TWICE? LIKE SERIOUSLY!

Sorry again for the long note

Wisegirl6