A/N: I worked real hard on this one, Review after?

"I'm happy to be your servant, till the day I die."

-Merlin

"Merlin, behind you!" Screamed Arthur in warning.

While Merlin had been distracted Morgana had recovered from her initial shock, and even with Arthur's warning had no chance to move before Morgana thrust the dagger she had kept tucked in her belt into his side at an upwards angle; the blade slipping neatly between his ribs and plunging straight through where Morgana knew his heart to be. They stayed like that, two figures standing alone; but at the same time surrounded by thousands of people; as blood steadily soaked Merlin's shirt and jacket, turning them maroon.

Mouth half open in shock, Merlin felt the dagger slip back out as Morgana pushed him away from her and he stumbled, landing heavily on his hands and knees. The sudden surge of noise was rather disorientating and he blinked rapidly.

Nobody could understand it when Merlin got back to his feet. Unsteady, clasping his side, struggling to breathe and coughing, but back on his feet.

"How?!" Shrieked Morgana, flinging aside the bloody dagger, elation turning to fear and anger at the sight of Merlin standing defiantly before her after getting stabbed in the heart. Or at least, where his heart should be.

Merlin couldn't help but let out a wheezy laugh which quickly turned into painful hacking cough, blood dribbling from his lips. "I am the last Dragonlord, kin to the Dragons. Like them my heart is on my right side." Blood continued to seep out from under his fingers as he tried to stem the flow coming from the knife wound in his chest.

Despite his brave words it was more pain than Merlin could ever remember feeling and it was all he could do not to scream. Actually, he wasn't sure if he even had enough air in his lungs to scream properly. He could feel himself steadily running out of breath, finding it harder and harder to breathe. It made sense, he could feel that one of his lungs was not working and knew it had collapsed, the warmth of his own blood soaking his side. Whenever he attempted to breathe deeply a more severe pain would strike him, so he had to settle for unsatisfactory rapid, shallow breaths. The realization of how much trouble he was in struck him and panic threatened to overcome him, but he forced himself to stay calm and breathe. If he played it right, he could still win this fight. Hopefully. Maybe. Perhaps.

Well, if he was going to survive he had to concentrate on only Morgana and breathing, and the question of what he was going to do next; for if he lost then Arthur would die and Camelot would fall. From the lectures Gaius would make him listen to he was aware that a punctured lung was something somebody could live through if they got help before they bled out 'If I don't end this soon I'm going to die' he realized as his body struggled to adjust to one lung. Pressing his hand to his side he murmured a healing spell, desperate for even a little relief "Purhhaele pina, prowunga".

Nothing happened. Well, he already knew he wasn't very good at healing magic; after all he hadn't been able to save his father or Freya. This was just as bad as either of those. As he breathed he could feel his chest cavity filling with air through his still open wound and he shivered involuntarily 'Not good, this is not good'. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

"Ic hale pina prowunga" he said more urgently. Was it just lack of both experience and skill? Both more likely than not. But something still felt wrong, he could sense something else, something almost repelling his magic from the wound.

"It's useless," called Morgana, still a little unsettled but also triumphant "you will not be able to heal that wound with your simple little charms. It takes real knowledge of the old religion to heal a wound from that blade; I've been imbibing it with dark magic every night for a month now, so it's no ordinary wound."

Merlin was dismayed at this news but determined all the same. It hurt too much to really be able to focus though, and he coughed up more blood. There was a painful pinching sensation in his chest every time he breathed in and he could feel his heart beating faster, spreading oxygen more rapidly, but also increasing the bleeding.

"Forbaern aeltaewlice!" Screamed Morgana, sending a jet of violet fire towards him.

Merlin had always been best at defensive magic, so it didn't take much effort to mentally throw up a shield and deflect her attack. He felt dizzy so allowed himself to go down on one knee, swaying slightly. He made sure to pay enough attention to his magic to continue casting the shield, protecting him from both Morgana and her renewed flurry of spells. Although it was becoming harder and harder as time went on, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up.

It was obvious that she was growing irate as Merlin continued to deflect her spells despite his injury, "How can someone so powerful be content to live as a servant? You have the power to rule all of Camelot; the power to force Arthur to bow at your feet!"

It occurred to Merlin that Arthur could perhaps hear bits of what Morgana was saying since she was pretty much shouting, and the watching armies were almost completely silent. Which was rather odd considering how many people were there. Could he hear Merlin? No. But if he did… perhaps it would help him to understand, just a little. "Nim bod min þissere nihte bod dryhten." whispered Merlin, glancing at Arthur who flinched in surprise as the spell took hold. Now, Arthur would hear their conversation as though they were standing right beside him. He hoped Arthur would forgive him for using magic on him.

He gathered himself, taking a moment to simply breathe as best he could. It was painful, slow, but with many pauses he could speak "That's not, what I want. I don't want to rule, or make anybody, bow at my feet. And most of all, I don't betray, my friends." Merlin couldn't help but gasp as a sharper pain radiated from his sides. He had to find some way to close his wound and prevent the air entering his chest cavity, rather than his remaining lung. But his healing spells weren't working, so what then?

"No, you just poison them. " she spat bitterly, raw betrayal in her eyes.

Merlin flinched, temporarily distracted, "I didn't have, any choice!" Even he could hear the pleading in his own voice. He coughed wheezingly, more blood dripping from his lips.

"Of course , you would do anything for Arthur. Why are you so loyal to him? Friend or not, he'd kill you for having magic," she sounded maliciously pleased by the thought, "To be betrayed by your best friend after you betrayed your own kind, ironic. I'll save you the pain and just kill you here and now, after all, we were friends once."

Merlin resisted the urge to glance at Arthur, "…so be it. And though I die, I will take you with me." By now he was talking for Arthur's sake, not Morgana's.

"She sneered, "Oh really? Just look at yourself, You're already half dead! How much longer do you think you can keep this up?"

Another spell was cast, and like the others before it, it was deflected. "Purhhaele dolgbenn" nothing.

"I told you it's no use, Fight back! You should focus on fighting me, not healing yourself."

He didn't have enough energy for a spell strong enough to actually kill Morgana, so what now? The biggest problem was he couldn't think straight "Licsar ge stadol nu!" Nothing.

He shot a fireball at her and she barely managed to deflect it, due simply to the fact she hadn't really expected him to attack.

Then he remembered the boy Gilli, who had used a blast of heat to seal the slash his shoulder. If plain Magic couldn't heal him, maybe a mixture of magic and science could. From Gaius's explanations he knew it was a spell meant for more minor injuries, but he hoped it would be enough to buy him some time. All he needed was to close his wound, then breathing would come a little easier. Perhaps then his head would clear and he would be able to concentrate on coming up with a plan. He braced himself, slipping his hand up under his shirt to rest on his bare skin which was slick with blood "Purhhaele licsar min!"

The pain struck him like a physical blow as a flash of light temporarily blinded him, bringing with it a wave of scorching heat. He withdrew his hand, struggling not to be sick at the smell of charred skin. He almost fainted, and his shield faltered. The next thing he knew he was hurtling through the air, skidding across the ground and rolling to a stop on his stomach.

He landed hard and was dazed for a few moments. His bodies' first instinct was to gasp for breath, but when he did it only caused him more pain. So instead, he forced himself to relax. But this was good, the new sharper pain from his landing and the burn had roused him from the half awake state, and his mind was clear and racing. In a moment of both inspiration and desperation he feigned unconsciousness, blocking out the various noises of both joy and distress and severing the spell he had cast between him and Arthur. He'd need all his limited concentration if his crazy plan was going to work.

A foot dug painfully into Merlin's side, rolling him over onto his back. He stayed limp and cracked his eyes open just a bit, and though Morgana was just a faint outline against the sky he could see her well enough.

She was positioning the point of her sword straight over the right side of his chest and his heart, "This time, I will not miss," raising it high she stabbed down.

At the last moment Merlin's eyes snapped open, his hand coming up as his irises flashed the molten gold that accompanied magic. Her blade was deflected, glancing off an invisible shield and slipping to one side, burying itself in the ground.

Excalibur flew to his hand, flashing in the sunlight and he awkwardly twisted onto his knees, desperately, inelegantly, and completely gracelessly, stabbing Morgana through the stomach.

He knew the sound it made as it went through her would haunt him for the rest of his undoubtedly very short life.

Her eyes were ice in shock as slowly Merlin drew the blade back out and dropped it on the ground, catching her as she began to fall and sinking with her to the ground. Almost tenderly he held her in his arms just as he had when he poisoned her, 'Our rivalry ends as it began' he thought to himself, gazing down at her. He did not mourn the death of Morgana Pendragon, because to her former friends she had died long ago. So instead that's what he wished for; the days when nothing hurt. Times before hate had consumed all of Morgana's kindness and love, turning her into a shell of what she had once been. As he did, single tear slowly slid down his cheek.

Morgana turned her head slightly to look up at him and shook her head slightly in confusion "Even after everything, how can you still cry for me?" she whispered in disbelief, suddenly sounding so… human.

"Once you were my friend." Merlin answered simply.

He expected her to sneer, but instead Morgana sounded almost regretful, "And you mine. But times changed." And with those words her last breath escaped her and her body went limp in his arms, the light fading from her eyes.

Gently he laid her down and brushed a lock of hair away from her face, closing her eyes. If it wasn't for the ugly wound it would look as if she was merely asleep, her long silky hair spread around her head like a dark halo. For the first time in a long time her face was not full of bitterness, but peaceful.

Despite the danger he was still in, Merlin felt a sense of relief wash over him. Closing his eyes he focused on the soft breeze played across his face. He had done it. He had eliminated the greatest threat to the future of Albion, Arthur and the Knights would be released, and now there would be a peace treaty signed between Camelot and Caerleon.

Somehow Merlin slowly got back on his feet and managed to stagger a few steps away from Morgana's body before the last of his strength left him and he collapsed to the ground, something that had been happening a lot in the past hour. The rush of adrenalin was gone and he could now feel the full and considerable pain of his injuries. Closing his eyes Merlin's hand drifted to cover his side. He may have closed the wound and prevented death by suffocation, but he was well aware he was beyond any physician's help. He had lost far too much blood, and there was still undoubtedly internal bleeding. It was a miracle he had survived as long as he had, but he suspected his magic might have had something to do with that. "Maybe it's better this way, better to die. That way Arthur won't have to choose between his beliefs and me." he mused, thoughts hazy with the pain. After closing his wound he could breathe easier, so there was something to be grateful for.

He stared up at the sky, one hand stroking the grass by him as he wondered how long it would take for death to come.

Something did still worry him though, had he completed all he'd been meant to do? Wasn't he supposed to assist Arthur in building a new Albion and fulfilling his destiny as the Once and Future King? But then again, the dragon had never said he would have to survive in order for Arthur's destiny to be fulfilled. Perhaps he had played his part in Arthur's story, and his chapter was coming to a close. He felt a pang of guilt that he wasn't able to keep his promise to Gaius, he hoped he would understand. Once more he closed his eyes, listening to his heart beat which was much faster than usual.

Merlin became aware of Arthur's voice, faint as though from a great distance. Suddenly he felt hands shaking his shoulders in a gentle then in a more commanding way when he did not respond, "Merlin, Merlin!"

He opened his eyes and his vision slowly focused on Arthur on his knees beside him, Percival, Gwaine, Leon, and Elyan hovering around them. He managed a faint smile, and although it was harder and more painful than before, he could still speak. But the pain didn't matter, he couldn't bear to lose what little time he had left with them in silence. "Hey, what'd you know. I'm not as useless, as you always thought," weakly his eyes misted over with gold and the bonds restraining Arthur and the Knights broke.

Arthur's newly freed hand gently cradled the back of his head, "I've never really thought you were useless you Idiot."

Merlin frowned doubtfully, "…Really?"

Arthur nodded his head, "Yes, believe it or not you're actually a pretty decent servant. A great one in fact."

Eyes stinging with tears Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was another round of coughing, fresh blood dribbling from the sides of his mouth. It took him a moment but he recovered enough to talk, "You're not mad?"

"Oh yes I am. Which is why you can't go and die on me." Arthur smiled weakly "I mean it. You don't get to die because I haven't had the chance to yell at you yet. And trust me, I have a lot to say to you about all this, and you have a lot of explaining. Don't think you can get out of it."

"Oh well, there's some incentive" agreed Merlin sarcastically.

Without a word the Knights and newly arrived Gwen circled them both, giving them some privacy from the prying eyes of those who did not understand the fact that the King and his servant shared a bond that was stronger than that of brothers. From those who would think he was weak for caring so much. It was as if this was a moment between just the two of them, and they would be intruding on something private if they said anything.

Gaius who was older and slower than the knights arrived and pushed through them, dropping to his knees on Merlin's other side. He began to open his medicine bag but Merlin put one hand on his, shaking his head wordlessly. He looked at Arthur and smiled apologetically, his voice fading slowly, "I'm sorry. I think you'll have, to train, another idiot, to run around for you. . . "

Suddenly Merlin felt a sharp sting on the side of his face and his eyes flew open, though he didn't remember closing them. Arthur had slapped him! Even on his death bed Arthur was still abusing him! His initial surge of indigence faded quickly however, it figured that Arthur wouldn't let him die without a fight. But if he did die- things would be so much simpler. He was tempted to ask if they could ever forgive him, but he wasn't sure he could handle what the answer might be. It was better not knowing. This here was enough.

And suddenly Merlin knew that now Morgana was gone, even without him Arthur would succeed. He knew he shouldn't, but Merlin couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as he realized he wasn't needed anymore. It was safe for him to die.

His body tensed and he gasped as another sharp stab of pain in his side struck him, and to his surprise Arthur moved to cradle him in his arms, holding him gently. It felt oddly comforting and he looked intently at Arthur, searching his eyes. He thought of everything that had transpired in the last hour, "I didn't mean, for things to happen, like this."

"Stop it Merlin, stop talking like that!" said Arthur sharply, eyes bright.

"I don't, regret dying though. I would do it, for any of you, a hundred times over." continued Merlin, ignoring him.

Arthur shook his head adamantly, as though simply denying the fact Merlin was dying would make it untrue. "I can't lose you Merlin, you can't just go and die on me! You're not really an idiot, you know. You're the bravest man I have ever known. You are a hero Merlin, braver than any knight." Merlin whimpered in pain involuntarily and Arthur held him a little closer, but not too tight.

"I don't mind, dying here." said Merlin truthfully, as though that should be some comfort.

"No!" Arthur answered forcefully.

Merlin began to lose awareness, his thoughts drifting into a haze when something wet landed on his cheek, bringing him back. Because it was so unbelievable it took him a moment to register what had happened: a single tear had fallen from Arthur's eyes, and even as he watched it was quickly followed by another.

A rush of affection for Arthur washed over him, and with great difficulty he slowly reached up to rest his hand on the back of Arthur's head. Staring deeply into his eyes, Merlin tried to convey everything he either didn't have time to say or just couldn't find other ways to express into one look and just two words, "Thank you."

And surrounded by almost everyone he cared for most in the world, Merlin felt a sense of peace and warmth spread through him. Despite everything he managed a sincere smile, because as unbelievable as it sounded he was happy. He drank in the now blurry sight of the Knights, Gaius, Gwen, and Arthur as his vision slowly spotted into black, hand falling limply to the ground. His final breath escaped from him as a peaceful sigh and the rapid, labored rise and fall of his chest stilled, the ghost of his last smile still etched upon his face.

….

Arthur forgot both that the Knights, Gwen and Gaius were there, and that he wasn't supposed to show this kind of emotion for someone so below him in rank.

"Merlin, wake up!" when there was no response from the young man in his arms he leaned forward, touching his forehead to his friends, whispering words that were meant for Merlin alone, "Don't… please don't leave me. I need you." But there was no reaction.

He moved one hand to Merlin's throat, desperately feeling for a pulse he knew in his heart would not be there, but found nothing. Merlin, the secret sorcerer, was dead.

Laying him back down Arthur felt gentle but insist hands pulling him away, making more room for Gaius. Arthur didn't put up a fight; too numb to do anything but stare at the empty, pale shell that was all that was left of his best friend.

'Dead.' The word reverberated through his head, but his heart was unable to really associate it with Merlin 'Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.'

Then an even more horrible thought- 'dead because of me.' The sapphire blue eyes that had once been so full of life were now dull. It was as though shutters had closed behind them, leaving them empty. His skin was much too pale, his lips bearing a slightly blue tinge. Vaguely Arthur became aware that the still wet blood that had covered Merlin's clothes was staining his own hands and clothes as well, but he didn't care.

He bowed his head as Gaius knelt beside the boy that had been more than a son to him, pressing two fingers to his neck as though refusing to believe Merlin was really gone. At last Gaius slowly withdrew his shaking hand, looking lost and utterly devastated. Tenderly he ran his fingertips across Merlin's forehead, brushing aside his hair before passing his hand down Merlin's face to close his eyes. There was nothing left of the composed physician in his mannerisms, but instead he was simply a grieving father looking at his son, crying and stroking his hair. Arthur wondered if his father would have looked at him like that in this situation, or would he be disgusted that one of his family members had magic? Probably the latter. It made sense now, why Gaius had been on the front lines.

Tears still blurred his eyes and before he could stop them several more fell as he stared at Merlin's lifeless body, blood stained and dirty but still so painfully familiar. But he couldn't let himself surrender to it. He took a moment to breathe, letting a small choked sound escape before straightening up, struggling to compose himself and face the world outside the circle of friends. To face the people who would not understand the tears he was hiding.

. . .

Arthur found himself alone in the medical tent, Gaius standing outside the door flap to prevent anyone from disturbing him. Merlin's body laying on a table at its centre; with the sword Excalibur laid out beside him. Like Gwen had done for Arthur, Gaius had cleaned the blood from Merlin's face and body and changed him into a spare grey shirt and black trousers that were just a little too big for him. If he hadn't been so pale and Arthur didn't know better, he could almost fool himself into thinking Merlin was simply sleeping.

Despite everything she had done, upon Gwen's request Arthur had ordered a grave be dug and even marked for Morgana. That had caused much disruption and murmuring, all of which Arthur simply ignored. There was more understanding for the fact that Arthur intended to take Merlin's body to the lake Avalon and give him the same Funeral he would for any Knight, but even after all Merlin had done there were still those few who opposed it.

The worst part about it all, was that he didn't know how to feel. And now he would never get an explanation. It wasn't so much the magic that upset him, It was that he had trusted Merlin completely, only to find that Merlin had been lying to him longer than they had been friends. He didn't know how much had been a lie. His mind would never be put to rest. And still… still it hurt. It hurt both that he had been lied to, and it hurt even more that Merlin was gone forever.

Merlin's solemn voice seemed to drift to him through the years,

"I will protect you or die at your side."

'No man is worth your tears.' he reminded himself, toying with the red neckerchief that had previously been around Merlin's neck. But that statement no longer seemed to be true in any context , and he did cry, this time without any need to hide it. He shed tears for a servant, a sorcerer, and a best friend.

. . .

In their tent Leon, Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine lay awake, eyes dull with grief for their fallen friend and comrade. They felt much like Arthur did, though none to the same degree. Not a word was said, and the few silent tears that did fall were hidden in the shadows.

Please do not hate me! Trust me, this story has a happy ending!