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Little bit of a sad one here, and a character death as a prewarning. Twist on 5x13.

Merlin could only stare as Arthur drew away from him. Tears threatened to burst from his eyes and flood down his cheeks, but he held them in check. He refused to be seen as weak even though everything he had ever hoped for was currently being thrown back in his face.

"Leave me."

"Arthur…"

"You heard."

For what felt like the first time in his life, Merlin obeyed and drew back to a safe distance. Telling him had been the right thing to do, but to see Arthur look at him with such mistrust was heart breaking. Not to mention Merlin wasn't sure if he had imagined the flicker of hatred and fear in the king's pain filled eyes or whether that was his own agony making him see things.

He avoided Arthur for as long as he could that day, leaving it to Gaius to make sure the king was comfortable. He told himself it was to give Arthur space, but he knew that was a lie. He couldn't face him. Couldn't face that look in his eyes again. But he knew Gaius wasn't going to be travelling with them; they needed more speed than the old man could keep up with.

As the physician departed and Arthur refused to look at him, Merlin felt another part of him die inside. Arthur might have been the one mortally wounded, but Merlin could feel a blade twisting into his own heart and found himself wondering if it would just be better if their positions were reversed. Camelot needed Arthur… and if Arthur lived then the chances were he would have Merlin executed. Merlin knew their friendship had been strong over the years. But it had been a friendship built on a lie and Merlin wasn't sure it could withstand this. If only Arthur would look at him…

But by the time they stopped for the night, Arthur had already passed out. Merlin eased him down from his horse and found himself staring down at the pale form of his king. Arthur looked so weak and vulnerable like this. It just wasn't right.

After trying to make him as comfortable as possible, Merlin built a fire, kept watch and simply brooded. He had meant it as a momentary thought, the idea of them switching places. But it now wouldn't leave him. What did he have if Arthur died? Nothing – his destiny would have failed. But what did he have if Arthur lived? If the king wouldn't forgive him, Merlin knew it would have been for nothing.

He didn't sleep. He didn't eat. He just continued to stare at Arthur, wincing for him when Arthur's breathing began a little too deep and signs of pain instantly flickered across his face. This wasn't the Arthur that Merlin knew. This wasn't his strong king and it was killing him. But as he watched, spells began to enter his mind. He knew it would break Gaius' heart, but it would give the kingdom back the leader she had been waiting on for so long. It couldn't be Arthur's time yet. Merlin refused to think that.

"Merlin," the whisper of a word made Merlin jump and he blinked as he realised that Arthur's eyes were open and he was watching his servant almost as intently as Merlin was watching him. The fear and hate were gone from Arthur's eyes, but there was still a guarded look on his face. Merlin couldn't blame him. He could only imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he thought he knew had been lying to him all this time.

"How are you feeling?" Merlin asked, moving forward and trying to hide his pounding heart. He had made up his mind; he knew what he had to do. Whether Arthur would accept it or not was another matter entirely. The king simply grimaced rather than responding verbally and Merlin nodded in understanding.

"I've been thinking," Merlin mumbled, knowing just how wrong things were when Arthur didn't immediately make some sort of comment about it but just continued to watch him. "I think I can heal you."

"With magic?"

Merlin nodded, not trusting his voice. Arthur looked as if he was going to refuse, he had a defiant set to his jaw. But then he blinked and the only thing Merlin could truly see was exhaustion.

"Gaius said it couldn't be done."

"Gaius doesn't understand how powerful I am," Merlin said bluntly, wincing at his lie. Gaius would know this could be done, but he would never think of it for he knew the cost. "There will be a price to pay. But I know what the price is and I know that you can handle it."

"What?"

"You don't need to know, Arthur," Merlin whispered, shuffling closer. "Just know that you will be fine and there will be nothing to worry about."

"Merlin…" Arthur tried to shift and instantly fell back with a cry, one hand going to his side. Knowing he needed Arthur's permission, Merlin pressed the matter. He felt bad for doing it in Arthur's moment of weakness, but he knew that was the only way he would get the man to stop. Putting a hand on Arthur's shoulder, he allowed the magic to begin to rise within him.

"I can make it stop, Arthur. Do you want me to?" Half out of his mind by pain, there was nothing that Arthur could do other than agree. Anyone in that sort of pain would want it to go away.

Releasing the magic, Merlin chanted softly under his breath. The hairs on the back of his arms stood up at the raw power of the forces that he was harnessing and he knew he had never attempted anything like this before. For good reason as well; this was not magic that could be toyed with or even practiced. If it didn't work, destruction would be the cost.

But Merlin could feel that it was working as Arthur's breathing eased a little. He continued to chant until his energy sapped from him and he fell forward. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, but no one was there to witness it for Arthur's eyes had also closed.

"Merlin? Merlin, wake up," Merlin groaned at the order as he felt a rough hand shaking him awake. And then, quicker than he could think, he sat up and almost crashed into Arthur from where the king was standing over him. A gasp escaped Merlin before he could stop it, a hand pressing to his side at the sharp flare of pain.

"What?" Arthur demanded, his eyes narrowed in concern. Merlin shrugged – carefully.

"Pulled muscle. You're… you… you're alive," he breathed, staring up at his king. Arthur looked every inch the royal that he was and a smile spread over Merlin's face. Arthur was standing strong and proud. His face was still a little drawn, but it was from discomfort rather than pain. Merlin knew, without needing to ask, that the spell had worked and that Arthur would live.

"What did you do?" Arthur demanded, but Merlin shook his head.

"You don't need to know."

"Merlin-,"

"Arthur. Trust me. You don't need to know. Just focus on the fact that you are alive and think about the fastest route through this forest to get back to Camelot. Your queen needs you."

Everything about Arthur softened at the mention of Gwen, just as Merlin knew it would.

"You're right. This forest is too dangerous. We need to get back." Arthur moved towards the horses, his movement free and easy. Merlin watched him for a moment before realising it had been left to him to pack up the camp. Knowing that would give things away, Merlin simply waved a hand and let his eyes flare gold. By the time Arthur turned around, everything was ready to go. The king looked astonished, opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. It was clear that Arthur wasn't yet sure how he was feeling. Merlin allowed himself a gentle smile.

Soon he wouldn't need to decide.

"Let's go home," Merlin said softly, wanting to be back in Camelot even more than Arthur did, although his reasons were entirely different. Arthur seemed to share his sentiments, however, for he mounted and quickly turned his horse around. Merlin struggled onto his own, ignoring the burning look that Arthur was giving him. Rather than giving the king a chance to start asking questions, Merlin simply touched his heels to his horse and sprang away.

It was a bad idea, but he needed the speed. They rode long and hard all through the day and Merlin knew they would make Camelot by nightfall. They hadn't crossed much distance the day before due to how weak Arthur was. Merlin also knew that if they didn't make it to Camelot by nightfall, then it would be too late. It was getting harder and harder to stay sitting upright but he refused to show weakness in front of Arthur. Not now. Not after everything.

They did make good time, but their actual arrival in Camelot was something of a blur to Merlin. All he knew was there were people shouting and rejoicing, Gwen rushing to Arthur, the king making a speech about fate being on their side. Merlin knew he was actually thanking his servant for saving his life, but Merlin refused to be in the spotlight. Instead, he simply slipped away.

"What did you do?" there was no gentle greeting from Gaius when Merlin reached the chambers. His breathing was coming in sharp pants and agony laced through his body. He took one look at the physician's face and felt himself drop to the floor. Gaius was by his side immediately.

"Merlin?"

"I couldn't let him die."

"What have you done?" There was true fear in Gaius' voice and Merlin felt guilty that he was the one who put it there. He weakly grasped the man's wrist, stopping him from rising.

"What I had to do, Gaius," he murmured, his eyes pleading with the old man to understand that he didn't have a choice. Despite his own eyes being filled with tears, Gaius seemed to understand. How it was even possible, Merlin had no idea, but somehow, Gaius got him onto the bed, although Merlin was crying with agony by the time his body relaxed into the pillows. His hand was trembling as he clutched it over his side, but he knew there would be no mark there. That was not how the spell worked.

"Merlin, where did you-," Arthur's voice trailed off in shock and Merlin could just picture the look on his face.

"You didn't tell him?" Gaius scolded, clearly beginning to piece together what had happened in the forest. Merlin gave a weak laugh.

"I wasn't going to give him a choice about whether he wanted to live or not," he rasped, realising that talking was already becoming hard. Somehow, the spell had sped up the process. Merlin, however, didn't think that was necessarily a bad thing.

"Tell me what? What have you done?" There was fear back in Arthur's voice now and Merlin saw the king come and kneel by the side of the bed. It wasn't fear of him this time, but fear for him. "What have you done?"

"He's taken the wound upon himself," Gaius said gravely and Merlin found the strength to somehow summon a stool and shove it behind Arthur even as the king seemed to fall backwards.

"He's what?"

"Your wound was lethal, Sire. You cannot simply heal that sort of wound without there being a price."

"You said I would be able to pay it," Arthur whispered, staring at Merlin. The servant gave a weak smile.

"You'll be fine without me. Means… means you don't h-have to make any decisions just yet."

"You idiot. Gaius? Gaius, do something!"

"There is nothing that I can do." Gaius' voice seemed to crack and Merlin felt guilt shoot through him with the next wave of pain.

"It was my choice," he muttered, trying to will them to understand. "My destiny… Albion can exist now, I didn't fail…"

Despite it being obvious that Arthur had no idea what he was talking about, Merlin was grateful that the king didn't ask. He didn't have the strength to explain. He turned his eyes to Gaius, and realised with alarm they seemed to be darkening at the edges already. It was all happening so fast.

"You'll tell my mother I love her, won't you?" Merlin asked, forcing his voice to remain steady. Would she ever understand?

"I'll tell her myself." It wasn't Gaius who answered, however. It was Arthur. He shifted forward.

"What made you think that I could do this without you?" Arthur asked, a vulnerability in his voice that Merlin had never heard before. The warlock forced himself to smile.

"You'll… you'll have to get yourself out of bed," he teased, but then found his body contorting as another wave of pain shot through him. He tensed, crying out and suddenly there was a hand in his, encouraging him to grip tightly. There was no mockery in Arthur's expression, no teasing in his eyes as he simply held on.

"S-stay with me?" Merlin found himself whispering, barely seeing the nod that Arthur gave in response but feeling the tightening of his hand. He didn't know how much longer he was going to last, but he knew it wasn't long.

He was right. A few hours passed, the king refusing to move from his side. Merlin wondered if he had broken something in Arthur's hand at one point when the pain was getting too much, but he didn't ask and Arthur didn't say anything. He had no idea what time it was, for he knew the shadows lengthening across the room had nothing to do with the position of the sun. Nor was the coldness beginning to settle into him to do with night falling.

Someone draped a blanket across his body and soft cushions behind his head, yet Arthur did not let go of his hand. As evening drew on, Merlin found that it was harder and harder to continue to grip on.

"Arthur!"

"I'm here, Merlin. You don't have to be afraid, I'm here. I'm going to make you proud, I swear." There was a definite tremor in Arthur's voice and Merlin forced a smile on his face.

"You b-bet'r. Or…haunt…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"Shh, don't try and talk," Arthur whispered, the emotions making his voice thick and heavy in a way Merlin didn't think he had ever heard before. But he couldn't comment on it. Not when he could feel his head sinking back into the pillows and a long breath escape him for the last time. As the sun set over Camelot, Merlin's eyes slid shut and his hand fell limply from Arthur's grasp.

He hadn't failed in his destiny after all.