A/N: Merry Christmas guys! I know I haven't uploaded in ages, and I don't really have an excuse considering the crazy number of snow days I've had in the last month so...sorry! But considering it's Christmas, and my birthday in four days, and Hogmanay soon (New Year's Eve for you non-Scottish folk :P), I've decided to get in the festive mood! :D Chapter's not that great; I've just gorged myself on Christmas chocolates so I guess it's kinda my fault...anyways, enjoy! :D

Chapter 27- Transformation

The blood red sun had now finally sunk behind the ruined buildings of Camelot, casting a deathly shadow over the courtyard where most of the inhabitants of the city along with the Druids had gathered, each staring silently at the scene before them. No one moved, or even seemed to breathe.

Merlin comprehended none of this. He sat crouched by Arthur's ailing form, Arthur's scarlet blood leaking over his hands, which shook violently, as though of their own free will. His pleading eyes began to feel the sting of tears as he kept them fixed solely on the king. Please let him understand...

Why he simply didn't force Uther aside was beyond him, it was as though some great internal force was preventing him, some instinctive compulsion.

He called up the words, ready on his lips, all it would take to send the king flying, but they refused to form, no matter how hard he tried to force them. The words 'destiny' and 'fate' came looming up unbidden in his mind. He tried to force them away and take control of his own actions, but, he found he could not. Some great pre-ordained plan was being set into motion, there was nothing he could do to stop it, like fighting against a wave. Everything now depended on Uther.

Uther looked straight at Merlin, probing the depths of his eyes with his own. Merlin saw the pain behind those aged eyes, the internal struggle. He was a broken man, the fierce fire that had so often blazed in his eyes, was now extinguished by the tears that fell from them. The dark creases around his features cast a shadow on his face, great bags surrounded his eyes and a dark stubble was forming on his chin, betraying a want of dignity and a troublesome few days. A great king he was no longer, rather, the ruin of one.

Uther cast those tired eyes upon his son, whose breathing became more and more laboured with every second that was wasted. His chest heaved and his breath rattled as an old man's.

Uther held him close to himself, tightly clutching at him, cradling him.

Uther then turned his attention to the crowd, silently observing. He saw their tear-streaked faces, their pale features hardened by battle, the way they stood side-by-side with their former enemies.

He looked once more at Arthur, before fixing Merlin with a searching look. He closed his eyes fiercely, inhaling deep steady breaths, before looking to Merlin and asking in a weak, defeated voice:

"Can you save him?"

Merlin pushed aside his annoyance at the time being wasted by Uther's refusal to listen to him, and said in a voice of forced calm:

"Yes."

Uther looked back at Arthur, and Merlin waited for what seemed like an age, before he discerned the tiniest nod from Uther.

The stillness and unreality of the moment was broken suddenly as Merlin leapt forward feeling acutely his sense of purpose, as though some great creature had been slumbering inside of him, but was now suddenly awakened with one aim.

The blood pounded in his ears and an odd sense of weightlessness came over him until he felt apart from his body and became an ethereal observer. He did not have time to think, he simply acted in the way he was born to do, fulfilling the centuries old prophecies.

His heart seemed to cease beating, his breath stopped, nothing was now more important in the world than this moment.

He bent closer to Arthur's prone form as it heaved in agony, and exposed the ugly wound.

Merlin then closed his eyes and focused his magic more intensely than he ever had before. The knowledge of what to do sprang into his mind and he realised it had always been there, waiting to be used. He followed his instincts, the natural flow of what he knew to be right.

A powerful force such as Merlin had never experienced broke upon him in a sudden torrent. A great fire burned through his veins, a rush of pure energy, magical energy, more pure, more elemental, more raw than he had ever felt was filling him up, exhilaration as never before.

Merlin had always thought he knew magic, knew his power, knew his limits. Now he knew he had barely scratched the surface. He felt as though his very body was aflame, he saw that his skin was incandescent with a golden light. He felt his eyes scorch golden as he looked at the wound on Arthur's chest.

Everything else was then drowned out, and all that he could sense was Arthur's heartbeat.

It was erratic, thumping wildly as an enraged animal in a cage. Then...it was steady.

Merlin was brought crashing back to reality.

Everything became clear once more, he could sense movement around him from the crowd, hear their astonished remarks and exclamations, hear Uther's gasping breath, but, best of all, he saw Arthur's eyes flicker, and then weakly open, looking about him, until they fell on Merlin, unfocused.

Merlin breathed a huge sigh of relief and almost laughed with the huge weight that had been lifted from him. Uther smiled and seemed to lose his haggard appearance as he touched his son's face. Arthur turned his head slowly to look at him, and seemed to take comfort in his presence.

Merlin backed away and tried to stand up, but found it near impossible, he staggered about like a drunk man, unable to keep his balance. His whole world was spinning.

He felt the magic still within him, rushing around fiercely inside. He felt drained, but alive at the same time. For the first time in his life, he was consciously aware of the magic that was constantly inside of him.

He felt as though he was buzzing with energy, as though it was frantically trying to escape. It felt as though any small slip up would cause it to blast its way out. His control was weakening. He couldn't contain it.

He backed up against one of the few standing walls remaining. Druids, soldiers, and townspeople were watching him cautiously, wonder and fear on their faces.

Merlin felt his breathing become laboured as his magic still rose inside him. What was wrong with him? Why wouldn't it cease?

One of the soldiers inched closer, awe on his face. Then Merlin saw a split second reflection of himself in the burnished armour, and the sight almost stopped his heart.

Out of his pale face, his eyes still radiated a strong gold colour, shining fiercely instead of reverting back to normal. They seemed to glow brighter and brighter, like two miniature suns, or mirrors reflecting the immense power inside. His skin too, was glowing. A sparkling radiance that made him seem unreal. Merlin would barely have recognised himself. Gone was the skinny servant, here was a man of pure elemental power, and, Merlin feared it a little.

His hands were shaking. He tried again to regain control, conscious of everyone watching him.

He closed his eyes tightly, screwing up his face in concentration, fighting back the fire that threatened to overcome him. It wasn't until he felt a small pressure on his hand that he began to calm down the raging furnace inside. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw Morgana in front of him, a small smile playing about her lips, but her eyes betrayed something deeper. The sight of her seemed to calm him, and he felt his eyes dim, and fade, and his flesh cease to burn.

A wash of inexplicable weariness came across him, and all strength seemed to desert him. His legs fell from beneath him, but Morgana caught him before he could hit the ground.

He sat upon the cold flagstones of the courtyard, his mind reeling. He bent his head forward and put his hands over his face, trying to control their trembling.

Morgana sat by him, silently.

When he had regained some form of composure, he looked up. The crowd in the courtyard had begun to disperse somewhat, seemingly thanks to the efforts of Fyrmest, who was herding people away from both Merlin and Arthur. People were reluctant to go, but Fyrmest's stern gaze defeated them.

Arthur still lay in the courtyard, supported by Uther who seemed to be speaking to him in an undertone, Arthur nodding weakly. Merlin had never before seen them so content. He longed to go to them, but restrained himself, they needed these moments.

He turned instead to Morgana who still sat beside him, an odd look on her face. She looked shaken and frightened, but she still fixed him with a knowing look.

Merlin spoke to her, alarmed at how weak his voice seemed.

"Is that what happens to you, when you lose control?"

Morgana nodded.

"It always frightened me, as though if I so much as moved I'd release some powerful force and hurt somebody. I panicked, I couldn't breathe, I felt as though I'd just explode with the power."

Merlin nodded, that seemed about right.

They stayed in silence a few more minutes, before Morgana spoke.

"What happened there...that wasn't...it wasn't anything I've ever seen before."

Merlin smiled shrewdly.

"Trying to flatter me?"

Morgana shook her head.

"No. I've lost control of magic before, I know what that's like, but, it was never anything like that. I could never control it on my own, I couldn't bring myself out of...whatever that was. My magic, even when fully unleashed was never anything compared to that, and when I did lose control, I was unconscious, sometimes for days. How you can hold all of that power...it's unbelievable."

Merlin was silent. He was used to people telling him his magic was inordinately powerful, how "they'd never seen anything like it", but before now, he had never appreciated what that really meant. He had even shocked himself.

Morgana bit her lip, before continuing:

"I must admit Merlin...it frightened me, seeing you. You and Arthur, it was like, you both vanished into this golden light, a huge orb of blinding power. It reached out in every direction, engulfing everything. We all felt it, like a great ripple of energy. It was like that one minute, then the next, there you both were as before, only, you looked different. You almost didn't look, well, human for a moment."

"How nice."

"No, Merlin. I mean, it was like, you were magic itself, not someone merely wielding it. It was some sort of...transformation. I tell you, people were a second away from bowing down and worshipping you as some kind of god."

Merlin burst out laughing.

"Was I really that intimidating? I should try it more often, then perhaps Arthur wouldn't give me as many chores."

But Morgana didn't laugh, she was still staring at Merlin as though in a new light. It unsettled him; had it really been that intense?

Aiming for a change of subject, Merlin brought up something that had been weighing on his mind.

"Morgana, I'm sorry, sorry we didn't listen to you about Byrne."

Morgana looked in distaste at the huddled mass in the courtyard, the body of the sorcerer, who no one seemed to want to go near. But then she turned back to Merlin, and instead of annoyance and anger in her eyes, it was understanding.

She didn't say anything, so Merlin continued:

"You're a Seer, we should have known better, it was obvious that we should have trusted your judgement. We were- I was, so stupid not to listen to you. You were right."

But now Morgana was shaking her head.

"No Merlin, even I didn't see the full picture."

Merlin frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, everything had its purpose, it all happened the way it was supposed to."

"But I was supposed to protect Arthur! I wasn't supposed to expose him to danger!"

"It was by exposing him to danger, that you have protected him."

Merlin was bewildered.

"Now you're not making any sense."

Morgana gave a gentle laugh.

"Prophecy and destiny never make any sense. I'll try and riddle it out for you. Look at it this way; if you had not insisted on Byrne being allowed to live, he never would have had to opportunity to attack Arthur, in which case you would never have had to save him, Uther would not have learned to trust you, and now would not be open to new ideas of peace between magic and non-magic peoples."

Merlin looked at her, his head hurting trying to comprehend it all.

"But Uther will never change his mind about magic."

"He allowed you to use magic to heal his son."

"That was different."

"How so?"

"It..it just was."

"Merlin, you don't realise how much that simple action has achieved. Uther could have allowed his son to die rather than accept help from a sorcerer, but he did not. He chose magic, and his citizens too, saw his decision. He may never reconcile himself to the idea of magic in his kingdom, but you cannot deny, there is now a much better hope for the future."

Merlin was silent, he tried to make sense of it all, but still found it overwhelming.

"'Pendragon must trust Emrys'. The prophecy you heard in your dream. Is that part of what happened here?"

Morgana smiled.

"Now you're getting it. Didn't you find that you couldn't force Uther to accept the magic? He was the one who had to accept it. It's the way it was ordained centuries ago."

Merlin sighed.

"I don't like to think I'm just living out my life to some huge plan. It's as though everything I do is made obsolete because, it's not me doing it, it's something that was decided for me."

"No, Merlin. It's your decisions that count. You could have chosen to walk away, you could have chosen to ignore this, you could have chosen not to come here at all. Your destiny doesn't have your future set in stone, it only guides it. You should always have faith in your own decisions Merlin. You have the capacity to be the person in that prophecy, but only if you make the right decisions, which I've no doubt you will."

Merlin gazed at her, trying to convey without words how much he appreciated her being there, and they fell silent. Everything that had happened crashed down on him heavily. He wanted nothing more than just to lay down in this courtyard and fall into a great sleep. He felt so weary, so fragile...he wanted to just leave, go far away, and find some peace somewhere, and not know pain or suffering, or weariness.

Morgana remained by his side and he took comfort knowing she was there.

The first stars began to shine out in the sky, shining beacons, emerging through all of the death and horror of the last few days, untainted by war, eternal.

Merlin heard footsteps coming towards them both, and looked up to see Gaius shuffling towards them. He stopped in front of them, his eyes filled with tears as he looked proudly down at Merlin.

Morgana smiled at Merlin, gave a reassuring squeeze of his hand, and stood up and walked back over to Arthur and Uther, who greeted her with a tight embrace.

Merlin remained sitting on the ground, gazing up at Gaius.

"So..."

Gaius' face broke out into a broad grin, and he reached down and grasped Merlin's arm, and, with surprising strength, pulled him to his feet and into an embrace.

There was no need to say anything.

Arthur tried to climb out of the darkness that was engulfing him, drowning him. He was falling deeper, and deeper, into his pain, his suffering, he knew then that this was it, he was about to die.

His mind swum with the images of those he loved, whom he would never see again. The pain threatened to block all else out. He fell back into the soft relief of nothingness, only vaguely aware of the arms enclosing him. He was drenched in his pain. He wanted it to end. He wanted to die.

When, from out of the darkness, a light appeared, a beautiful glowing light, and the pain was gone, his body was healed. His body was weak, but surged with an immense energy at the same time. He pulled his way back to reality, and slowly opened his eyes, blinking , trying to take stock of his surroundings, a hazy sight, slowly becoming clearer. He swivelled his eyes to the side, the only movement he seemed strong enough to do, and saw someone crouched by his side.

It was Merlin, but not Merlin as Arthur had ever seen him before. The past few days, Arthur had constantly been amazed by Merlin, what he could do, the magic he could wield, but this surpassed everything. His eyes and flesh seemed to be glowing fiercely in the dark light of the courtyard, and Arthur's breath seemed to catch in his throat at the sight of him.

Merlin's face softened a little in relief and he fell back out of Arthur's vision. Arthur tried to call him back but couldn't. He felt someone touching his face, and Arthur slowly turned his head and saw his father beside him, a rare smile on his lips.

He was confused. Uther had practically disowned his son, yet was here by his side, showing such fatherly affection as Arthur had never seen before. His head hurt, nothing made sense, he could not even remember how this had come to be; what had happened?

But Arthur didn't care too much, all that mattered was that he was here, and was no longer angry with him, no longer screaming for the death of the Druids, just being a father.

He didn't understand.

Merlin. He must have been healed by Merlin after...Byrne. Where was he? What had happened?

He tried to sit up, but weariness held him back. His body was weak and fragile, yet still pulsated with that curious feeling. His hands shook as he tried once again to sit up, but this time, Uther pushed him back gently.

"Careful. You must rest."

Arthur didn't argue; he didn't think he'd be moving any time soon.

Uther was still looking at him in that strange fashion, in a way he had never looked at Arthur before.

Arthur was shocked to see the beginnings of tears in Uther's eyes. He was more confused than ever.

"Father?" he asked hesitantly.

Uther smiled, and placed his hands on Arthur's shoulders.

"I'm here Arthur. And I'm sorry, sorry for the way I treated you. I should never have denied you; you matter more to me than anything else in this world."

Arthur frowned.

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

Uther winced at the accusatory tone in Arthur's voice.

"I almost lost you Arthur, that changes a lot of things."

Arthur frowned once again. Uther was not one for showing emotion, particularly towards his son. It was strange to hear him talking like this, but not altogether unpleasant. Arthur had been vying for his father's attention for years, hoping to make him proud, and not ashamed to call him his son. If Arthur had known years ago that all it took was almost dying to become closer to his father, he would have done it years ago.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Fyrmest ushering people away, Arthur only just became aware there was a crowd watching him, he had been so preoccupied with his father. Fyrmest gave him a swift encouraging nod, before moving out of sight.

A nagging doubt began to plague his mind; what was the future of the Druids? Uther was making no move to have them removed from the city, but neither was he welcoming their presence, what did that mean? Uther had obviously allowed Merlin to heal him with magic, but Arthur knew it would take a great deal more than that to change his mind about magic.

Finally he decided to voice his concerns.

"What's going to happen now?"

Uther frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?"

Arthur motioned with his eyes in the direction Fyrmest had moved off in.

Uther followed his gaze, and a hardened expression came over his features. He fixed his eyes on something in the courtyard Arthur could not see, and a look of resignation came over him.

He looked back at Arthur, and he saw in his face, worry, pain, and weariness. He was uncertain, and Arthur saw a glimmer of hope, Uther was no longer adamantly condemning the Druids. Did that mean...there was a chance for peace?

Uther saw the hope there in Arthur's face.

"Don't expect much Arthur. Magic is still, and will always be something that I despise. But..." And here Uther seemed to choke on his own words, as though what he was saying pained him. "I am willing...to talk. In light of what has happened, it is prudent not to appear too harsh against the Druids, the people would not allow it. I will speak to their leader, see if we can come to a compromise. I will not tolerate magic in Camelot, but I may be persuaded, to turn a blind eye to what happens outside of its walls. A truce."

Arthur nodded slowly. It was more than he expected. His father, the king, willing to speak with a Druid? It defied all logic.

"And Merlin?" Arthur asked cautiously.

Uther clenched his jaw and his gaze turned steely.

Arthur interrupted before he could say anything.

"He saved my life father. You must have saw him. He came back to Camelot to save its people. You cannot dismiss him as you did before. Besides, all of Camelot saw what just happened. You will find it much harder now to go against him."

Uther ran a hand over his face, his eyes screwed up in indecision.

"I know, I know. I cannot forgive his betrayal, I cannot accept him in Camelot, yet, there is a duty..."

He bent his head and looked like a tired old man again, with a heavy decision on his shoulders.

He looked up again.

"Nothing will be decided yet. The Druids cannot be gotten rid of even if I wanted to; they are too powerful. They can remain in the city for now, until I can speak with their leader. After that...I do not know. As for Merlin...never before as a king have I been so undecided. Everything will hinge on this meeting."

Arthur nodded, knowing that was the best he could hope for. The fact that his father was willing to listen to Fyrmest was an accomplishment in itself, regardless of the consequences. It was a huge step forward. Perhaps it would work out.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind caused Uther to turn. Morgana was there, looking hesitant. She was still garbed in her battle gear, her skin still tinged blue, blood still spattered across her body.

Uther looked at her for an instant, before reaching up and pulling her into a tight embrace. He said nothing, and Morgana returned the embrace, reluctantly at first, but then just as tightly. Arthur knew she was remembering her revulsion for all Uther had done in the past against Druids, but also a childhood of Uther as a father, caring for her, loving her as his own daughter.

The three of them here, together, as it used to be.

Arthur faded back into an unconscious rest, trying to rejuvenate his tired limbs, trying to block out all that happened. The Druids, Byrne, Merlin, his father...all of it tumbled through his mind.

He couldn't make sense of it, he did not even try to. Tomorrow was a new opportunity. He hoped with all his strength the meeting would go well, so much now depended on it. It could signal a new era, but it could also result in nothing being changed.

But still, he had no power over that now. He fell into a deep sleep, heedless of anything other than his own weariness. Tomorrow would bring what it would. He just had to hope it would be a new age that dawned.

A/N: Definetly not one of my better chapters but...what the heck, it's Christmas ;)

Story's coming to an end now (sobs), only one or two more chapters I think...any suggestions as to what I should do next? Always open to advice or criticism :)

Review please! :D

P.S: People were a bit confused last chapter as to why Merlin simply didn't push Uther out of the way when trying to save Arthur, so I tried to clarify a little this chapter. Hopefully I've conveyed the fact that Merlin physically couldn't do it; it had to do with the prophecy. If not, then again, sorry for confusion!