Hey, everyone. Nope, not dead. I took a short break from writing this, and wrote an unrelated oneshot where Freya helps Arthur. It's rather good, if I says so myself. Check it out! (end shameless self-promotion)

So, it appears last chapter was a Base Breaker for this story (Base Breaker: where a major part of the story is loved by one part of the fandom and loathed by another). That's okay, I was pretty sure it would be one. I get it can be a bit off-putting.

By the way, agape is pronounced ah-gah-pay. Even better, it's a real term, and one of the reasons I love Merlin so much (you'll get why after reading).

Hey, BBC snuck into my dreams and plucked out this amazing premise where Merlin and Arthur are close in age and magic is illegal! Oh, you don't believe me?

Worth a try.

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Percival was used to being a spectator. For some reason, everyone assumed since he was big that he must be inconsequential in matters unrelated to physical exertion. That suited him fine. Being underestimated had worked well in the past.

Now, however, he was just glad to stay out of the fray and be given a chance to get his head straight.

In the year since coming to Camelot and spontaneously being knighted, Percival had interacted with Merlin quite a bit. He'd taken a liking to the young man, especially since he reminded Percival of his lost family. Now he was building a new one, and he'd always wanted a little brother.

It was clear Merlin was the 'little brother' to all of them, and even if Arthur didn't admit it he was the most protective out of all of them, perhaps tying with Gwaine.

So Percival knew the revelation that Merlin intentionally put himself in danger specifically to protect Arthur would shatter the prince. Especially when Merlin actually proved the lengths he had gone to went far beyond what was expected of even the most loyal servant.

Percival recalled something he had heard when he was a boy from a philosopher. Eros, Philia, Storge, Agape.

You see, young man - your name was Perry, right? - I looked at people, and I realized something. Our relationships, the bonds we form with others, can be named. I focused on the positive emotions, and found four main types. The Four Loves, I call them. Eros, that is the love people usually think of when they reference love. Romantic love, between a man and woman. Now, that's one, but the others are not romantic. Philia, that one is friendship. Thats the second. Storge, that is family. Love for parents, children, brothers, sisters...or anyone as good as.

Agape, now, that one is different. It can be present in any of the other three, as well as standing alone. It means 'sacrifice'. It is unconditional, selfless, and completely limitless. I personally consider it the truest form of love, since to put someone above your own life...that is true sacrifice.

You know, young man, what I wouldn't give to see agape. It is rarer than kings.

Privately, Percival knew, just from looking at Merlin's wounds, that he had finally seen agape.

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Merlin felt the tension lessen to a bearable intensity with Gwaine's comment about the tavern. When he asked about what they would do - code for Agravaine - it thankfully did not spring back to its former choking thickness.

Merlin bent down to pick up his shirt, and pulled it over his head. Even with it on, the vertical line on his throat was visible.

"Where did that one come from?" Leon asked quietly, sounding cautious.

Merlin reached a hand up to touch the scar. He shrugged. "Run-of-the-mill assassin. Hardly worth note, except he caught me unaware."

What Merlin neglected to mention was the way his magic had reacted violently the instant the pain registered, blowing the assassin back with boneshattering force into the wall. He had died instantly. His hand, obviously holding the knife that was cutting Merlin's throat, had been thrust back with the rest of him, jerking the knife away from it's formerly perfectly straight path.

Merlin picked up his neckerchief and tied it, adjusting it carefully so that the scar was completely hidden.

"There are run-of-the-mill assassins?" Elyan sounded slightly incredulous.

Merlin paused awkwardly. "Well. Yes."

Gwaine gave him an odd look. "That really shouldn't be funny, mate."

"It was winter, so I suppose I wasn't as observant."

"Winter."

"Problems seem to like the warmer months."

That was certainly true. Merlin dreaded the coming of spring. His happiest memory in Camelot was of the winter where there had only been two attempts on Arthur's life, and only one of them magical in nature.

"I see."

Merlin could tell Gwaine didn't see in the slightest, but he let it slide. Admittedly, it was rather bizarre.

Unexpectedly, there was a knock on the door.

"Sire?"

Arthur blinked and called, "Yes?"

The door opened a crack and a servant poked his head in, eyes lowered. "There is a gift from one of the lower-level nobles. He says it would be an honor if the prince himself ate some of his spoils from a hunt. Shall I-"

"You may prepare it, and tell the nobleman I will thank him later." Arthur waved the servant away. It was galling to still have to attend to such duties when things of so much more importance had been set in motion.

"I'll go with you." Merlin said.

"What?" Merlin couldn't leave now, not when they were going to discuss how to deal with the traitor.

Merlin gave a gentle, somewhat tired smile. "Four, Arthur."

Oh.

Right.

Feeling faintly inadequate, Arthur nodded.

Merlin followed the servant out the door. He walked toward the kitchens, and hoped Arthur would have the strength to be able to deal with Agravaine's betrayal. Not just in the technical sense, but mentally and emotionally as well.

Making small talk, he asked, "What did the nobleman catch?"

The servant rolled his eyes.

"Actually, he didn't. It was given to him by a woodsman. A fine, healthy deer, if a bit roughed up."