A/N: Hello all. Wrote some more for you all. Hope you enjoy. As always, please review if you can. Enjoy...

Chapter 12

Merlin's breaths come harsh and fast in Arthur's ears. The King's eyes widen in panic, the crimson from his friend's tunic was spreading rapidly and Arthur can see some of the vital fluid dripping onto the earth and soaking the soil.

"I'm fine Arthur" the warlock can clearly read his friends face in the moment, he pulls himself up from the ground with a hiss and steadies himself on the royal taking a long shaky breath for composure. "Just hold still a moment" he huffs, face grimacing.

"What are you doing?" Arthur's voice had hitched up several pitches, and in any other situation he was sure that the servant would have made a snide comment on him sounding distinctively like a girl. But not now.

"Hang on" Merlin struggles to say, he doubles over, pressing his palm into his wound harder, the blood spills over his fingers then and trickle down his paling skin. Arthur closes his eyes at the sight, swallowing hard against the vomit, the wound is a mortal one, and he knows it. And he's pretty sure Merlin knows it too.

"Merlin?" his voice broke, opening his eyes he tried to tear the his gaze from the gruesome sight.

"Wait." Merlin smiles then and Arthur is more than a little confused at his friends almost happy face. Before he can react the servant's hand comes up to rest on the King's shoulder.

"Wel cene hole" the warlock's eyes flash briefly into gold, and Arthur stares marveling at the sight for a second. Somehow it feels odd that he's missed this sight all these years. He feels his shoulder warming, tingling, almost painfully but not. It's nothing like he had experienced before. The throbbing from the wound is replaced by nothing but an annoying itchy feeling, and he looks down to see his friends free palm pressed into what was once his arrow wound. Heat seems to radiate from Merlin's palm for a moment or until the warlock lets his hand drift back to his side.

"What are you doing you idiot!" Arthur's sudden realization dawns on him. "What did you do?" his hands bawl into fists in sudden anger and at his new found strength. The servant doesn't answer but simply gawks back at his master with his trademark goofy grin.

"Merlin?" Arthur demands an answer angrily. "What did you do?"

Merlin doesn't speak. His smile falters and is replaced quickly by frown as he grimaces against the pain he'd briefly forgotten. "Sorry" he mutters, and what little colour left in his face drains away and he starts to double over.

Arthur simply crumbles at the sight of him then, grasping his friend by the shoulders he gently guides the servant to the forest floor and watches in horror as Merlin's eyes flutter open and closed. His eyes roll as he fights against the pull of unconsciousness.

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice is not angry this time, its tinged with unhinged panic. "Merlin, stay with me you clot pole. Please? Merlin stay awake!"

"M'fine Arthur" Merlin tries his best to speak but nothing but two words then innate babble comes out between his hitched breaths.

"Shut up" Merlin obeys his masters voice without hesitation. Arthur's panic reaches another level as he pulls the warlocks tunic up to reveal his friends ugly wound. He may as well had been gutted, the wound stretched from the man's lower middle torso, close to the trouser line up to meet his prominent ribs. Arthur was sure he could see bone beneath the gash's upper edge. The quantity of blood spilling from the lesion makes the King want to vomit again, he pushes desperately against it to stem the flow but it does very little. "You need to heal yourself." he grapples with his shirt tearing strips from it he pushes the cloth onto the wound in haste.

"Can't" Merlin slurs, the warlock lets out a long sigh and his body relaxes against the ground, going limp his lids slip closed.

"Merlin!" Arthur shakes the younger mans shoulder, he feels for his friends pulse on his neck to find it thrumming rapidly on his fingers, weakening by the second. The King can feel his own heart drumming desperately against his chest as the adrenaline pumps wildly around his system. "Merlin, wake up!"

Merlin does not answer, his breaths slow down considerably as he slips into deeper unconsciousness, his jaw goes slack and lips begin to tinge with blue. Arthur knows the sighs of immanent death, he's seen it enough times on the battle field, but not in a close friend like this.

Arthur shudders involuntarily, a world without Merlin, would sure be a dull one, and from what he'd seen, one where he would be less likely to survive long without his silent guardian by his side. He can feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, the saltwater spills quickly from there and track down his grubby cheeks. Looking over his friends form he can barely see the rise and fall of his chest now.

"Please Merlin?" he pleads desperately, knowing that it would make little difference. "Please don't do this to me." His eyes can't even focus on his pale friends form anymore then, the tears welling in his eyes distort his sight and all he can see is a mixture of the warlock's white face and the stains of crimson which do nothing but continue to grow in size.

"No?" Arthur pulls his friends head onto his lap, cradling it. "Please no." The grief tightens his throat against an audible sob.

"Arthur?"

The King draws an unsteady breath and looks down at his friend, blinking away the tears. Merlin's face remains still and close to death, his eyes remain stationary behind closed lids. Arthur looks up then, taking at short intake of breath his eyes fall on a figure not six feet in front of him. A young woman, her eyes sad and lonely gazed on the King. Her dress was tattered and ripped, and looked nothing dissimilar to something Morgana used to wear. Her black hair hangs messily down to her shoulders and Arthur notes that she stands barefoot.

"Who?" the King shudders out against his growing heartache.

"I am the Lady of the lake Arthur Pendragon" Freya smiles sadly, "Merlin is dying." she whispers sadly.

Arthur doesn't answer her, but simply looks down to the servant, breaths were barely passing his friend's lips now, his life slowly slipping from him.

"I have little time to explain Arthur" Freya continues, "Merlin is not destined to die today. But it is down to you to save him."

"How?"

"The amulet" Freya points to the small metal charm which Merlin has jammed into his belt for safe keeping.

Arthur retrieves the metal with shaky hands, its slick with blood and the King is reminded again how much of the substance coats his own hands. He rubs it off desperately down his own tunic.

"It's magical?" Arthur stutters out, "I'm no sorcerer"

"Merlin is the greatest sorcerer to walk the earth Arthur Pendragon" Freya whispers gently, "you and he are bound by a fate far more tightly than you can ever begin to comprehend."

Arthur pulls an unreadable expression, and Freya cannot help but crack another smile at the Kings reaction.

"Through the amulet Arthur, you can channel both his and your magic and heal him."

"But I can't do magic, I told you."

"You were born of magic Arthur" Freya replies, "You may be no sorcerer but you have some ability, it is now time to use this to help Merlin."

"But how?" Arthur's gaze shoots up to meet hers but she's gone. Nothing but empty space across the old bandit camp meets him.

"Hey?" the King shouts, his head whipping from one side of the camp to the other in the hope that the apparition is still around but nothing is there. Nothing but his own panicked breathing can be heard. He looks down to his friend, Merlin's skin is almost transparent against his features, his eye sockets look hollow against the early morning light. Arthur swallows back the rising dread.

"Don't make me do this?" he pulls the amulet towards his face and the metal reflects the sun into his eyes for a moment. He studies its markings, old druid lines etched into the surfaces with precision. Arthur can hear his father's voice in his head. 'Magic is evil, and those who practice it know only evil'. He sighs, looking to the clear blue sky above and then down to his friend. Merlin's breathes had almost ceased altogether, and Arthur studies his face for a second, knowing time is against him. He knows though, no where in his friend and servant's heart is evil. Nothing his guardian has ever done for him has been though malice or hate. Merlin had done nothing but follow him into battle time and time again and give him unconditioned council in the times of need. Now, he needed Arthur.

The King is lost for a moment, unsure what he's supposed to do. With little to no knowledge of the magic arts he hasn't a clue what to do or say. But then, without thinking he takes the amulet and places it between his palm and his friend's chest. He can feel Merlin's heart fluttering weakly under his palm. The metal begins to warm and to his alarm begin to glow. Arthur wants to pull his hand away, the unnatural feeling about it sends even more panic into him, the thought of doing magic which has done nothing but take his mother, father and even sister away from him sends terror into his heart. He closes his eyes against the light which begins to engulf his hand and his thoughts can only think of one thing. Merlin. His servant's grin, his snide joking comments, and each and every time he has seen him stick by his side, no, he would not fail him this time. Arthur concentrates so hard his head aches, he doesn't even know what he was concentrating on. But a warm feeling spreads through him, his hand shakes slightly against the glowing amulet.

Arthur cracks his eyes open, and stares at the glowing between him and his friend. The feeling intensifies, the heat in his hand feels like almost fire against his skin, yet there is no pain. Then finally, from somewhere deep inside him, as if instinctual he incants several words under his breath. The light brightens and almost explodes as the last words pass his lips, it envelopes them both for a moment and finally dissipates into the air.

Merlin gasps, his eyes shoot open and stare unfocused at the sky above him. "Arthur?" The warlock's voice is weak, but very much there.

"Merlin?" The King grabs his friend quickly, pulling him into a tight embrace he lets out a laugh, "Your alive!"