"Merlin!" Arthur called for the fourth time, irritation and concern winding together into a rather uncomfortable knot in his chest.

"I'm here, what?" Merlin panted, peering through the hole and out at Arthur as the prince's brows pinched together.

"I have to go, my father requires my assistance." The young man muttered, his eyes darting quickly over what he could see of his servant, noting a few small cuts amid the dust covering his face and dirtying his hair.

"But the knight, I found him. It's Elacard, and he needs help." Merlin objected, waving a hand behind him in desperation as pleading blue eyes stared up at the prince.

"Elacard?" Arthur repeated, confusion surging through him as he tried to think back. "I could've sworn I saw him yesterday. Are you certain?" Hadn't he seen the knight helping with the rubble at the edge of the Lower Town just the night before?

"Very." Merlin uttered seriously, shifting his weight and grimacing as a pebble fell from his palm.

"Any chance of getting him over here?" Arthur asked, his eyes moving past the boy and into the darkness of the crumbling tower. Where had the torch gone that he'd given him? How far away was Elacard, and just how far into the tower had Merlin gone?

"Not sure yet." The boy sighed, shifting again and running a dirty hand through his even dirtier hair and leaving a streak of soot smudged across his forehead. "But I don't think so, he was buried deep, and I think he passed out before I came back here."

"Damn." Arthur cursed, heaving a heavy breath as he glanced over his shoulder at one of the two knights standing behind him. "Get more men up here, I want an opening cleared out as soon as possible."

"Yes Sire." The knight nodded obediently, turning and striding off down the stairwell as Arthur turned his attention back to his servant.

"Stay with him for now, Merlin. I'll send someone for Gaius and see if he can come advise you on the situation." The prince promised as the boy nodded once.

"Right."

As his friend began to turn away, Arthur felt a wave of panic seize him, causing him to lean forward after him. "Merlin!"

"I can't exactly stay with him if you keep shouting for me." Merlin huffed, turning to look back at him as the prince leveled his gaze and forced the building unease down.

"Be careful, Merlin." He spoke earnestly as the boy began to roll his eyes.

"I know—"

"No." Arthur cut him off, his voice coming out sharp and with a weight to it that stopped the servant in his tracks. "The integrity of the tower is poor at best, moving all these stones could cause a cave in. So be careful."

Instead of responding the boy merely nodded, the look in his eyes enough to make Arthur certain that he understood. With a final deep breath, Arthur pushed himself up, Merlin disappearing from view as he turned and began to make his way back towards his father's chambers that resided in a steadier part of the citadel.

As he walked, the prince passed several knights that were headed for the western towers, and Arthur stopped only once to pull one aside and instruct him to fetch Gaius. The very idea of Elacard having been in that tower for the last two days was astounding to Arthur, in more ways than one.

For one thing, because he could have sworn he'd seen the man the night before. And for two, because how could he even still be alive after having been in that wreckage all this time? The young royal's mind raced with the different possibilities right up until he arrived at his father's closed door.

Taking a moment to steady his breathing, Arthur quickly brushed his hands off against his trousers before knocking once and stepping inside. The king's chambers were as put together as ever, with not a paper out of place on his desk nor a single wrinkle along his bedspread. Arthur had never seen Merlin keep his chambers nearly that tidy. And there, standing by a towering window with his hands clasped behind his back and his face set in an expression of deep thought, stood Uther Pendragon.

"Father, you sent for me?" Arthur spoke after a moment, standing just inside the door as the older man turned and regarded his son.

"Yes, I wanted to know how the work was coming along. Judging by the state you're in, I'd expect its going well."

"It is." The prince nodded, taking another slow breath in an effort to avoid squirming under his father's pressing stare. "We've made it up into the western towers and found a knight that had been trapped beneath the rubble."

"That's good news." Uther murmured, though his expression never changed as he pulled himself away from the window and walked towards his desk.

"Yes, we should be able to reach him within a matter of hours."

"I have a job for you." The king spoke immediately, settling down at his desk and carefully shifting a stack of scrolls to the side as Arthur bristled. He hated paperwork.

He was well aware that it was an important part of being a ruler, as well as knowing it wasn't something he could get out of, but he'd much rather be on the field helping with the cleanup of their kingdom. How could they expect their people to work tirelessly when they themselves were holed up in the safety of their chambers working on the kingdom's taxes or signing off on letters of the dead?

"With all due respect, Father, I've been busy handling matters outside the citadel. Between searching for those that are still missing or aiding those that have lost their homes, it's been—"

"Yes, I'm well aware of how busy you've been, Arthur." Uther cut him off, resting his hands firmly on the desk and setting his stern gaze on his son. "But you are the Crowned Prince, and you have better things to be doing. The people will not miss one person among a sea of them outside, but your presence is required here. One day I will not be here to explain these things to you, and you must understand that a ruler has far more pressing matters to attend to in times of crises like these."

Arthur's shoulders tensed the longer the king spoke, and the prince struggled to keep the scowl from rising to his face. It was of his opinion that rulers should be shown to be kind and grieving towards their people, not calloused and oblivious to the suffering taking place around them. And yet Arthur only nodded, knowing better than to fight his father on the matter. The king hadn't stopped him from fighting the dragon, and Arthur supposed it was time to listen rather than argue.

"The Court has already gathered. We will go and meet with them, and we will discuss the number lost and how to begin rebuilding what has been ruined." Uther continued to speak as he rose from his desk, gathering a few scrolls into his arms as he maneuvered around the wooden table and paused beside his son. "I know this seems callous, but this must be dealt with just as much as the wreckage outside. And if we don't do it, who else will? One day you will understand that as the prince, and someday as the king, you will be the one the people look to for their answers in times of trouble."

Turning away and walking to the door, Arthur stood still as his father's words ran through his mind. As frustrating and harsh as it was, the man did have a point, and that only further irritated the young man as Arthur let out a breath and turned to follow the king.

While the two Pendragon's made their way across the citadel, Arthur couldn't keep his eyes from wandering towards the windows and open doors, looking at the destruction spread across the courtyard and further. He'd much rather be outside doing labor any day. The hard work, sweat, and grime were far better than sitting in a stuffy old room with stuffy old men as they discussed the lives of their people as if they weren't even there.

Despite his thoughts however, the prince settled into his chair at a long table and did his best to listen as one elder after another posed questions and thoughts towards the disaster that had struck. Several of their merchants had been slain, and much of their food had been ruined. Cattle were eaten, homes were burned, and people were in a panic.

And even while he sat listening, Arthur couldn't stop his mind from wandering back to the western tower and his servant who he'd been forced to leave. Not that sitting and waiting for Merlin to come back with further news would do any good, but Arthur had sent him inside, and it only seemed fair that he was there if the boy needed him.

"Excuse me, Sire."

Jolting from his latest string of thoughts, Arthur's eyes flickered to the messenger standing just inside the door, frantic eyes darting between the king and the prince as he nervously waited to be acknowledged.

"Yes, what is it?" Uther asked, setting down a piece of parchment he'd been reading aloud from to gesture the young man forward.

"I come with word for Prince Arthur. A knight wishes to speak with you regarding the western towers."

"Has there been progress?" Arthur asked, immediately rising from his chair while his father frowned at him in disapproval.

"I was not told what the news was in regard to, Sire. But a knight is waiting for you near the stairwell." The young man spoke softly, wide brown eyes darting across the room as if he was expecting to be yelled at any moment.

"Arthur—" Uther began, only to be cut off by the prince pushing back his chair and resting his hand on the table.

"I sent my men up there, Father, as well as Merlin. One of my knights was trapped in that tower. Just as it is your duty to teach me, I have a duty to my men. If anything has happened, I must go and see."

For a moment he thought his father would object, but after a slow nod, Uther merely waved his hand forward. "Go, do what you must. But I expect your help later with the rest of this."

"Thank you, Sire." Arthur bowed slightly, barely containing his nervous energy as he stalked to the door and pulled it shut behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight, the royal began a hurried pace towards the western towers, and as he neared the stairwell, found the nervous energy shifting into a heavy weight in his stomach. He could already hear the low groaning of the massive structure failing. Every few seconds something high above him fell, stones rolling and pillars tumbling. The ground beneath the young man's feet shook with a steady rumble, and a thick dust began to cloud the air.

By the time Arthur reached the stairwell he'd come down earlier, the path was nearly blocked by chunks of the ceiling that had fallen through. An older knight stood to the side waiting, and worried brown eyes met the prince's as the knight's back straightened.

"Sire."

"What's happening?" Arthur demanded, his voice coming out calm despite the erratic beating of his heart. "Did Merlin tell you to send for me?"

It was a simple enough question but would provide the single answer he needed. If Merlin had sent for him, the idiot was alive. And if he hadn't..

"We haven't heard from him since you sent us for more knights, but the tower has begun to collapse and the entrance we'd manage to clear out was blocked off."

Okay. But that didn't mean Merlin and Elacard were still inside. The knights had been busy with other things. They could have come out unnoticed.

"Did either of them make it out before the collapse?" Arthur asked, and even before he received the answer he was moving up the stairs. It didn't matter what the answer was, and it didn't matter what singular word left his knight. The darting eyes and solemn expression told the prince enough, and once more Arthur was forced to go and find his friend and drag his idiotic self out of danger.

"Sire." The knight called, lunging forward and catching Arthur by the arm. At first the prince had half a mind to knock him away, but the concern on the man's face was enough to keep the blond from snapping immediately. "We've been trying to get through, but everything is blocked. The tower is coming down, and we could not risk any more men going up to clear a way."

He wasn't telling Arthur he couldn't go, that would be foolish to say to your ruler, but the message came across all the same. It was impossible to get up there. Of course, that didn't matter to Arthur.

"We do not leave or abandon our men." The prince practically snarled, wrenching his arm free as another crash echoed louder than before while the tower nearly shook the man off his feet.

"The tower is falling! Out of the way!" A second knight screamed, clambering through the wreckage off to their left as the first knight began backing away.

Forcing himself to retreat, Arthur barely dodged the massive chunks of stone that began breaking free from the ceiling, pieces smashing to the ground and leaving a treacherous path.

"Go!" Arthur shouted, waving the two men forward as he began to run, the entire foundation of the tower buckling and giving way as the men attempted to outrun their crushing fate.

Throwing himself to the side and out of the way of a beam falling hard and fast from above, Arthur looked to his right before launching himself through a section of the wall that had broken free. Knocked off his feet as a stone struck his shoulder, the prince went rolling outside, bright sunlight blinding him as he pushed himself up and scrambled further away from the crumbling tower.

The noise of the building crashing down was deafening until all at once it was over and all Arthur heard was silence. For a moment the man was disoriented, dust clouding the air and rocks digging into his skin, but then hands were grabbing his arms and hoisting him to his feet and sound filtered back in pieces.

"—right? Sire!"

Turning his head towards the voice shouting at him, Arthur stared at Gaius as the physician looked the young man over in concern.

"What?"

"I asked you if you were alright." Gaius said slowly, narrowing his eyes at the young prince as Arthur forced himself to nod.

"Yes, I'm fine." Blood trickled down his arm, and he had a distinct headache behind his eyes, but as the prince turned away from the elder, his injuries faded from mind.

The entire western side of the citadel had collapsed. Large chunks of stone and rubble and debris were everywhere in massive heaps. Wood and glass lay in scattered remains throughout the destruction, and with a sickening feeling growing in his stomach, Arthur realized there was no sign of his missing servant or knight.

"Arthur," Gaius began, moving his hand off the prince's arms and pulling the man's attention back to him. "Did Merlin make it out of the tower before the collapse?"

Swallowing once, it was all Arthur could do to shake his head, watching while fear and horror widened the elder's eyes before the man's head whipped back around to the rubble.

"You two!" Arthur shouted, pulling his eyes away from his friend's guardian and flagging down two of his knights. "Get men here now for a search. Go, get a move on!" Already striding towards the pile of debris, Arthur's eyes scanned desperately for any trace of his missing friend. "We'll find him, Gaius." The royal promised, glancing over his shoulder at the paling physician. "We won't stop until we do."


It was taking too long. The search was endless, and Arthur was past his breaking point. There were over a dozen men looking through the remains of the tower, and not a single person had found even a trace of Elacard or Merlin. How hard was it to find something? How far could they be buried? But no, Arthur refused to let himself sink down into that thought, because if they were buried that far, the chances of either of them still being alive was that much smaller.

Swallowing down the fear crawling up his throat, Arthur blinked the sweat from his eyes and gestured towards a knight to help him. On the count of three the two men hefted a large boulder up and over the side of a half assembled wall.

"Merlin!" Arthur called out, his voice raw and hoarse as his waterskin bumped against his side. "Merlin!"

They'd already been searching for over an hour, and his muscles and body were screaming from the exertion of the constant heavy lifting. There wasn't time for a break though, Arthur knew that, he could already feel the time passing like sand through his fingers, and with it his friend's life. How long could Merlin hold out? Was it already too late?

Mentally berating himself at the path his mind had taken him again, Arthur grit his teeth and moved another slab of stone. The smell of smoke was stronger the further he dug, and the prince knew from the scorched scraps of wood he was finding that a fire had broken out. Was that when Merlin was up there, or before? God, why had he sent the boy in alone like that?

Reaching down and removing another stone, Arthur's eyes caught a splotch of color half hidden beneath a broken beam. It was a small piece of blue fabric that was stained with red. Blue fabric that Arthur had seen more than once before around the neck of a certain mouthy servant.

"Merlin!" The prince shouted again, snatching at the fabric and feeling it pull free too easily.

It wasn't attached to the boy, but surely it meant that he was close. And suddenly Arthur was on his knees and digging before anyone could stop him. Before anyone could tell him that there was too much blood on that scarf. Before anyone could tell him the chances of finding his friend alive had just dropped once again.

Removing a few more of the smaller stones, a dust and blood covered hand came into view and Arthur's heart leapt to his throat. "Fetch Gaius! Now!" He shouted to any knight listening.

The young royal moved on instinct as he shifted the stones away faster, working to first unbury the injured limb until an arm covered in burns was uncovered. Next was a shoulder, with the shredded remains of a tunic clinging to open cuts filled with dirt. And then, finally, a head.

Merlin's hair was a mess, filthy and sticking to his head in damp clumps that stained the skin below it a sickening crimson. Blood and bruises and burns marred the boy's face, but Arthur didn't care. He was there. He had found him.

"Merlin, Merlin!" Arthur urged, his voice lowering as a knight scrambled to uncover the servant's legs while Arthur carefully shook his friend's shoulder. "Merlin?" It was a question and a plea. He needed the boy to answer him. He had to answer him.

Looking up in desperation, Arthur watched while the knight beside him was panting, shoving away the last of the stones as Merlin's legs came into view, stealing the prince's breath away in horror. The burns on the boy's limbs were prominent, the legs of his trousers torn and shredded, and blood had begun to gather into a small pool beneath his right thigh.

"Merlin, come on." Arthur's voice was gruff, and panic began to set in as the royal knelt forward and grabbed the boy's shoulders.

Merlin had always been a scrawny person, easy to pick up and easier to push around. But things were different now. Somehow he seemed heavier, as if he had no life left to him, and his body was a hanging weight left behind.

Sucking in a desperate breath, Arthur turned to the remaining knight with a furious glare. "Gaius! Get him now!"

Others had been sent but the physician still hadn't come. He needed him; Merlin needed him. The knight nodded and hurried off while Arthur turned his attention back to his friend as he shifted down and pulled the boy closer until he was propped against the prince.

"Come on, Merlin, wake up!" There, at the edge of his voice, Arthur could hear his own panic creeping in.

That wasn't acceptable. No matter what was going on, nothing would be solved by his losing his control. Even if he could feel the stillness in his friend. Even if he could feel the blood dripping down his skin and could smell the burnt flesh. Even if this was his fault for sending him in there. Even if he'd sent his best friend to his—

"Wake up!" Arthur's hands tightened on Merlin's shoulders and the prince could feel himself trembling.

It was because of the exhaustion of course, because of the work they'd been doing for two days straight, and because of the literal dragon he had fought. It was all bound to catch up with him at some point and there it finally was. It was due to all of that, and not because of the boy lying lifeless in his arms.

"Please.." The whispered word was what broke him. The plea Arthur hadn't meant to speak, and that Merlin couldn't hear. The way his eyesight became blurry, and the way he kept desperately looking up in the hopes of seeing Gaius coming towards them. The physician had saved Merlin before, from the wolf attack, from the poison, and Arthur knew he could save him now.

And there, finally, he could see Gaius. The elder was moving quickly, fear and concern alive in his eyes as the satchel that hung over his shoulders bumped rhythmically against his side with every step. This would work. Merlin would be fine. Everything would be—frozen.

Frozen?

Blinking, Arthur tried to focus, but no, Gaius was no longer moving. In fact, the elder was frozen midstride, his eyes locked on the two boys while his hair stayed splayed out behind him. The knights around the physician were frozen too, the prince noticed. Some were still moving rocks while others were in the midst of shouting, but everything and everyone was completely still.

Fear began to creep slowly through the royal, and Arthur looked from left to right before dropping his gaze to the boy in his arms. Merlin still wasn't moving either. Looking away, the prince spotted a torch a knight was holding not far away, a small flame burning at the top. Only just like everything else it was frozen, with a wisp of smoke caught in the air like a painting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A voice spoke, and Arthur's head jerked around to find a man standing at the base of the rubble.

He wore a long, dark cloak that was torn in spots and covered in the same dust as he was. The hood was down around his shoulders, revealing a face half covered in gleaming scales that were as dark as his complexion. The stranger's eyes were nearly black, and an unnerving smile was stretched across thin lips.

"Who are you? What have you done?" Arthur demanded, gripping Merlin's shoulders tighter as his eyes darted back to the impossibly still flame.

"I've commanded time to stop." The stranger spoke as though it were obvious, his smile stretching wide though there wasn't a thing pleasant or kind about it.

"What?" A cold chill ran down the prince's spine, and his heart beat rapidly in his chest as he fought to control his voice. "What kind of dark magic allows that?"

"Not dark magic, but you're close. Let's just say that I am quite gifted, my lord." Bowing ever so slightly, the stranger's eyes gleamed as they met Arthur's. "Do you know who I am?"

"Why would I?" Arthur scoffed, straightening his back and returning the man's stare.

"I expected you to have some idea at least. I must say, I'm rather disappointed in you." Something in the way the man spoke angered Arthur in a way he couldn't describe, a feeling like fire building in his chest as he scowled.

He was a strange, powerful man. A cloaked stranger. Someone who obviously liked to taunt others. Merlin's irritating voice prodded at him in the back of his mind, and suddenly everything became clear.

"You're the court sorcerer that Camelot once had, aren't you?" The prince finally spoke again, his question undoubtedly answered by the disturbingly wide grin that stretched across the stranger's scaled face.

"And there we are, my prince. I knew you had a bit of cleverness in you."

Shaking his head at the sorcerer's theatrics, Arthur glanced briefly at Merlin again before back to the stranger. "What are you doing here, what do you want? Why is it that I am the only one not frozen?"

The grin shrunk down into a smirk, and the sorcerer tilted his head to one side. "Why, I'm here to help your friend of course. He's dead, which is really quite a shame."

"No." Arthur said firmly, hearing his voice rise with his anger. "He's not dead."

"Really?" The man asked with an arched brow. "Because he's not breathing, and he hasn't been for a while now. If that's not dead, then I'm not sure what else it could be."

"Merlin isn't dead!" Arthur shouted, feeling his hands begin to tremble. He couldn't be. He couldn't be dead.

"Ah, you're still in denial, of course. I'm afraid to force this on you, my lord. But your friend Merlin is in fact very dead. Which, given what he was meant to do, is a bit disappointing." Pity was the furthest thing from the sorcerer's tone, and his words were almost verging on mocking. He was poking fun at Arthur's best friend. His best friend who was dead.

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Calm yourself, young prince." The sorcerer crooned; his voice suddenly soothing. "Your friend there is indeed dead, but I can save him. That's why I'm here, why I've stopped time." Gesturing around them, the reptilian man barely smiled. "For a few moments I've kept him suspended, and because of that I can bring him back. If you wish."

"Do it then." Arthur said immediately, aware of his mistake the moment the sorcerer's grin returned.

"Ah, but I should tell you that I cannot restore him completely. The injuries he has sustained are still quite troublesome, and I do not have the ability to heal him in such a manner. However, I can give him a fighting chance if you believe him strong enough to use it. I get the sense that that's enough for you, though."

"Just bring him back if that's what you can do." Arthur ground out, struggling to keep his composure the longer the stranger toyed with him. This was Merlin's life, not some game.

"Of course. However, as you must know, that would require the use of magic."

"You've already used magic," The prince practically snarled. "What difference will this make? Just save him."

"But Sire," The sorcerer gasped, lifting a hand to his chest in mock surprise. "I thought you and the good people of Camelot hated magic."

Letting out a slow breath, Arthur's fingers tightened in the fabric of Merlin's tunic. "My father is the one who despises magic, and who banned it from the kingdom."

"And what of you?" With a careful step forward that seemed almost painful, the sorcerer arched a brow while a snakelike tongue darted across his lips. "What does the great Arthur Pendragon, Crowned Prince to the throne of Camelot think about magic?"

"It's—"

Awful. Terrible. Deadly. The words played through Arthur's mind over and over, each in his father's voice. But there was another, quieter voice as well. One that was far gentler. Magic was dangerous, yes. But it was also incredible. Powerful. Beautiful.

"Uncontrollable." Arthur finally finished, the word the only one he could manage to get out.

"Yes, it is." The sorcerer nodded solemnly, staring hard at the prince as if he expected more. Everyone always expected more. Everyone but Merlin.

Glancing down at the motionless—lifeless—boy in his arms, Arthur swallowed. "Magic is unpredictable, and dangerous. But it can also help." So help my friend, please.

"What can you offer me?" The stranger asked immediately, taking another lopsided step and leaning forward. "If I bring that boy back to life, a miracle that goes against the heaven's themselves, what would you give me in return?"

And there it was, there was the tilting point that had Arthur's head spinning round and leaving him dizzy. Because of course it couldn't be so easy. Of course no sorcerer would ever willingly help someone just out of the kindness of their hearts. There was always something to gain, always.

"What is it that you want?" The prince scowled, feeling his chest tighten as the smile of the sorcerer's face turned deadly.

"Tell me something, Arthur Pendragon. Why is it that you would defy your father, go behind the backs of your people, and go against everything the kingdom has worked for, just for a servant?"

"Is that what you want? Answers to stupid questions?" Arthur shot back, watching the man's brows lift in surprise.

"No, no I suppose not. But perhaps I shall leave you to think on that." Straightening his shoulders, the sorcerer eyed the young royal. "One day you shall be king, Arthur Pendragon. And when that day comes I will return to collect my payment then."

"Why wait?" The prince asked, beginning to feel a knot of unease weigh in his stomach.

"Because you cannot give me what I desire now." The sorcerer stated, a dark gleam flashing in his eyes.

"And what is it exactly that you want?"

"Is that what you want? Answers instead of saving your friend's life?" The sorcerer smirked, throwing the young man's words back in his face as Arthur grit his teeth.

One day in the future, everything he would have built, everything that his father had built, it might all be at stake if he agreed. Was one life, no matter how much it meant to him, worth all of that?"

"Decide, Arthur Pendragon, for time is running out." The stranger's voice was no longer patient and calm, but urgent and deadly like a weight slamming into Arthur like a boulder to his chest.

"Fine." He snapped, feeling his fingers curl even tighter into his friend's shoulders. "Return Merlin to life, and I will owe you a debt in the future."

The snakelike tongue reappeared as the sorcerer grinned, lifting his hands in front of him. "Your father would be so disappointed in you."

Before Arthur could speak, the man's eyes began to glow gold while his mouth moved with unintelligible words. A gentle breeze began to whisk through the air, but it did not ruffle the prince's clothes, nor the frozen flames near him. The breeze was more than wind, the feeling of a deep and ancient magic rising from the ground as a chill began to freeze the air.

With a single deft movement, the sorcerer pulled a gleaming sapphire from his pocket, and though Arthur's body shook from the growing cold, the heat resonating from the gem could be felt even at a distance.

Arthur wanted to question what he was doing, but the young man could not find the strength to speak. It felt as if the entire world was being drained, and his own life with it. The buildings began to lose their color, the sky turned into a slate grey fog, and Arthur could swear he felt his heart slowing in his chest. His eyes began to grow heavy, and he heard a distant, feminine voice in the back of his mind.

"A life for a life."

And Arthur felt himself wondering for the first time how badly the ramifications would be for what he'd done. But no, the sorcerer wanted something from him once he was king, so surely that meant he had to live long enough to become king. The prince's thoughts wandered off as his mind grew sluggish, and as the royal's eyes drifted, his grip on his servant failed and the boy began to slide away from him.

That was all it took for Arthur to snap back into reality, his hands lunging forward and grabbing hold of Merlin, drawing the servant up again and feeling the baking heat of the sun beating overhead. Sweat clung to the man's clothes and stuck his hair to his forehead, and for a moment Arthur was disoriented. What had happened?

But then there was shouting, and Gaius was running towards him with fear and horror on his face, and Arthur was looking around for the now missing sorcerer. What had the stranger done? Where was he? Swallowing down his fear, Arthur looked back down at Merlin, the boy still unmoving against him.

"Merlin?" He asked softly, gripping the boy's shoulder.

A shudder ran through his servant, and a sharp cough left the boy as Merlin's body began to tremble, a wheezing, agonized breath pouring out of him while pained blue eyes flickered open and stared at the prince.

"Gaius!" Arthur shouted, lifting his hand to beckon the elder faster. Merlin was alive. The sorcerer had actually done it. His friend was—

"—done." Merlin's voice was weak and pained, and Arthur's hand fell when he heard him.

"What?" He pressed, leaning closer as Merlin's eyes closed tight and he swallowed with effort.

"What.."

"Merlin?"

"What have.. you.. done..?" Blue eyes pulled open again, and there was so much pain and agony, but behind it all was anger. Merlin looked at him with rage, and Arthur's heart beat wildly in his chest as the boy's eyes fell shut again and his body went limp in the prince's grasp.

"I.. I didn't.." Arthur began, unable to form the words as Gaius carefully scrambled towards the two of them, with two knights carrying a stretcher behind him.

Gaius was speaking to him, but the prince couldn't hear or understand him. In seconds his friend was being pulled away and laid carefully on the stretcher, carried quickly away by the two knights and followed closely behind by the physician. But still Arthur sat there, frozen in the middle of the rubble and the debris and a small pool of his best friend's blood.

Why had Merlin looked at him like that? Why had he asked him that? Looking down at his hands that were lined with dirt and dust and blood, Arthur felt that same draining feeling as before as a cold chill washed over him. Oh God. What had he done?


A/N

Thank you guys for being so patient with me while you were stuck on a cliff hanger! I hope this chapter was worth it, and I hope you guys are ready for the third part! I'm excited to get into this, and then some fun winter stories before heading into season three!

I have finally started work on my novel again, so my time is a little divided, but I haven't and WON'T, forget about you guys! The upcoming season will bring in the knights, some new mysteries AND friends, and I have a really fun plot device coming up in the next few chapters that, while it does deviate from the show a little bit, I think everyone will enjoy!

Leave any comments, reviews, questions, or thoughts for me! I read every one, and they always brighten my day. Thanks again, guys! 3