Merlin was sweating under the armpits as he walked the halls behind Arthur. What if his magic didn't work? What if it did work and he saved Uther? He honestly could be dead either way. If he didn't save Uther then Arthur might skewer him with his sword. If Uther lived, Merlin's head might be on the chopping block without a second's hesitation even though he'd used magic for good.

Nearing Uther's room, the Prince stops and so does Merlin. Arthur looks at the two men guarding the doorway. "You two are dismissed," he says.

"But, sire, we were ordered to stay here," exclaims one of the men.

"It was I who ordered you to stay here and keep vigil outside of my down. And, now under my orders, you're dismissed for now. Go get yourself some food or a bit of sleep. When you're needed, you shall be called," said Arthur in a firm voice.

The guards nod and bow to the prince. "Very well, sire," they say in unison. Without another word, the two men head down the hall and round a corner.

"Come one," Arthur said gruffly as he enters the room without waiting for Merlin.

The warlock follows Arthur. He is shaking and keeps having to take deep breaths. He wasn't as good with healing spells as he was with defense and making spells, but Merlin was not about to tell Arthur that he wasn't very skilled at this. Besides, Merlin could heal. It just took a little more energy and time to do the magic.

"So, what do you do? What do you need," Arthur asked as he stood at the foot of the bed. However, the Prince could not stand still and soon was pacing. It was making Merlin very nervous.

"Well, I need… I need everything to be quiet. I have to concentrate. I need you to be still too. Your movement is distracting," Merlin said as he went over to Uther side. He looked down at the pale King and took in another deep breath as he examined the wound at the King's side.

"Is that all?" asked Arthur. There was a hint of surprise in the Prince's voice and Merlin was sure that if he looked at Arthur, there would be shock shining in his blue eyes as well.

"That's all. Well, that and give me space. You're fine standing there," Merlin said. He looked over at Arthur and gave the blonde-haired Prince a feeble smile that Arthur did not return. After being given a nod that signaled Go ahead, Merlin rested his hands over Uther's wound.

He closed his eyes and focused his energy on his task. He 'explored' the wound with his mind and magic – he felt its shape, its deepness, its pain – so that he knew precisely what he was dealing with and trying to heal. The wound was small – no bigger than a butter knife's blade, however it was deep. Merlin would have to focus on healing the wound from the bottom up. The wound couldn't be closed if the rest of it was left open and bleeding inside. Uther would surely die if Merlin did that. Once he was sure he knew the wound, Merlin took another deep breath and opened his eyes.

"Ic haele thina throwunga!" Merlin chanted. His voice was deep and the words he spoke reverberated through the King's chambers. Little beads of sweat formed at his dark hairline and his color-drained face was covered in a glistening film of perspiration.

With each word the warlock spoke, he could feel the incantation work upon Uther. Merlin's side ached and burned as if it was he who'd received the wound. His chest felt tight and his breaths came laboriously as his body worked to stay conscious. To his utter dismay, the warlock realized it would be he (the healer), who would be the sacrifice to keep the balance and harmony of the world in order.

Arthur hardly noticed his discomfort and Merlin didn't mention it. His life was not important - Uther's life that mattered right now. Merlin would deal with the consequences later.

Merlin realized he hadn't been focused on anything. The warlock blinked and looked over at Arthur. The Prince's eyes were planted on the sleeping form. Hearing a raspy breath, Merlin looked at Uther as Arthur came to his father's side.

Sinking down onto his knees beside the bed, Arthur took Uther's hand. "Father? Can you hear me," asked the Prince. His voice shook as he spoke.

Uther blinked once or twice as he focused on his son's face. "Arthur," breathed the King.

Arthur brushed a few, stray tears away as he squeezed his father's hand. "I'm here," he whispered. "I'm here."

Merlin laughed. A large smile crossed his face despite how he was feeling. It had worked! Uther would live...

The man in the best gasped. His eyes widen as he clutched his chest. "Ar..." the King whispered before his eyes flutter closed and his breathing stopped.

"Father? Father," Arthur called. His voice dripped the panic he felt. Lightly, the Prince shook Uther's shoulders, but he got no response. Arthur stood. He drew his sword and pointed it at Merlin. "What did you do," he demanded.

"It should've worked! I don't understand," whispered Merlin as he also stood. He found his legs hardly held him up. To keep himself standing, the warlock held onto the post. "It should've worked."

"Well, it didn't! And now he's dead," growled Arthur. "I knew I shouldn't have used magic. He would've had a chance."

"He was dying," Merlin gasped. "It should've worked."

"It didn't," Arthur repeated. "The sight of you sickens me. Your voice sickens me. Go and never return."

"But Arthur..."

"I said go, before I change my mind. If you return, your penalty is death."

Merlin stared at Arthur. Tears fell down as his face as he staggered from the room. His whole world had just crumbled before him and Merlin honestly didn't know what he was going to do. The destiny he'd worked so hard to fulfill had just ended and it was all his fault.