Loosely based on the prompt: 5 times Arthur almost catches Merlin using his magic and one time he does.

I don't own Merlin.

Title comes from the song Lost - Kris Allen.

Arthur's chambers were cold, and though he would vehemently deny it later, he was cuddled up under piles of blankets. Snow fell outside, and freezing air seeped in through the cracks in the walls. The fire was sputtering out, providing little warmth to the shivering King sitting in a nearby chair.

"Merlin! The fire is going out!" he calls out, hoping that his servant was close enough to hear it. Minutes passed by, with no sign of him. The fire finally gave one last gasp, and went out. Arthur lets out a groan as the cold air seems to gather around him and soak deep into his bones.

"Merrrrlin!" he yells again, the name distorted by his chattering teeth.

"Yes?" a voice says, and suddenly Merlin is in the doorway, his cheeks pink and snow in his hair.

"Where have you been? The fire's gone out," Arthur grumbles. He shifts in the blankets, pulling them up to his face, trying to rub some feeling into his numb skin.

"I was running some errands for Gaius," Merlin replies, moving closer to the fireplace.

"You're supposed to be helping me," Arthur whines, his voice muffled by the blankets.

"You sure are a prat when you get cold," his servant mutters as he kneels down by the fire and tries to get it to relight. He moves the wood around a bit, but to no avail.

"How are you not freezing?" Arthur asks, looking over Merlin and seeing him dressed as usual. The servant doesn't reply as he clips two rocks together, trying in vain to get a spark to catch. A few minutes pass, and no matter how much he tries, Merlin can't get the fire to light again.

"Honestly, Merlin, you can't even light a fire," Arthur says, wishing for something nearby that he could throw his servant's way. Merlin leans even farther into the fireplace, and with another crack of the rocks and a soft whisper, a fire flares up. He turns around and gives Arthur a triumphant grin.

"Did you say something?" the man asks, his blue eyes barely visible over a blanket. Merlin pales, and the grin slides off his face.

"No…I was just…encouraging the fire to light," he stutters, quickly standing and moving away from the fire. Arthur scoffs, but doesn't push further as the warm air overwhelms him, and his shivers subside.

Merlin hastily grabs up some shirts scattered along the floor, and runs out of the room, letting out a small breath.

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"Gaius? Have you seen my lousy excuse of a servant lately?" Arthur asks, bursting into the physicians chambers unannounced.

"He's in his room," the old man replies, his eyes not leaving the many bottles in front of him.

"Sleeping, I'm sure. He's supposed to be polishing my armor," Arthur comments, moving through the room and taking the stairs two at a time. He pushes the door to Merlin's room open with a bang, but before he can say anything, a crash interrupts him.

"Arthur?" a small voice asks, and he sees Merlin sit up on the bed, color draining from his face.

"Why is my armor all over the floor?" he asks, looking from his servant to the pieces of his armor scattered along the floor.

"I was….polishing it," Merlin whispers. Arthur moves further into the room, his eyes still flicking from the floor to the bed.

"You were polishing it from the bed?" he asks, his voice higher with disbelief.

"Yes, I put the ones I finished on the floor," Merlin replies, his face still an unnatural white.

"Haven't you ever heard of putting clean armor somewhere clean?" Arthur scoffs, giving his servant a hard glare. "Honestly, Merlin. I don't know why I keep you." He turns and moves to the doorway. "I hope you're planning on polishing all of that again," he says over his shoulder, closing the door on Merlin's shocked face.

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Arthur knew something was wrong seconds before the bandits attacked. His neck had been prickling uncomfortably the last hour, but he had pushed the feeling away. Now that the black clad men were swarming around the camp, he wished that he would have heeded his instincts.

He quickly pulls his sword from its sheath, and runs at the nearest bandit. He calls to his other knights, warning them. Soon his ears are ringing with the sounds of swords clashing and the cries of battle.

At first, Arthur is confident that they can beat the bandits quickly, but as more and more men stream into the clearing, doubts arise. He fights three men at the same time, and can only catch glances of his knights out of the corner of his eye.

"Sire!" Arthur can barely hear Leon's call above the din, and he can't reply as another bandit comes at him from the left. Minutes pass, and Arthur swings endlessly at his attackers, his strength slowly waning.

Just when he thought he couldn't fight anymore, the few bandits turn and ran. After a few deep breaths, he surveys the clearing. The other knights were gathered together, their swords pointed at the retreating figures.

"Is anyone injured?" Arthur calls out, moving towards the group.

"Gwaine has a cut on his arm, and Percival's wrist is a little swollen, but neither is too serious," Leon replies, looking up to see his King walking towards them with a relieved smile. Arthur takes a few more unsteady steps in their direction when a realization hits him.

"Merlin? Merlin, where are you?" he calls out, whirling around when he doesn't spot his servant with the knights. Only silence answers him, and worry wells up in his stomach. He moves back the way he came, coming close to the edge of the clearing. He couldn't see the raven haired man anywhere, and the worry he felt in his stomach turned to rocks.

"Arthur! Watch out!" a cry rings out, and he whirls to see Merlin a few feet away, his arm outstretched. A wind tickles Arthur's neck, and he turns again to see one last bandit swinging a sword at him. Before he can throw up his sword in defense, he realizes it's too late. He was too tired, and he wouldn't stop the blade in time. He stumbles back in an attempt to lessen the blow, bracing for the heat of the cut.

A great cracking sound splits the air, and Arthur watches in disbelief as a large tree branch falls from above and smashes the bandit to the ground.

"Arthur!" Merlin is suddenly there, tugging at his arm, pulling him around and away from the unnatural sight.

"Did you see that? That tree branch fell right onto him, as if by magic!" Arthur exclaims, his heart still racing and blood pulsing in his ears. Merlin flinches at his words, but does not cease yanking at his arm.

Within seconds, the knights surround them both, checking for injuries. Arthur soon forgets about the incident, but he notices that Merlin is unnaturally quiet the rest of the way home.

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Arthur felt hot and cold at the same time, sweaty and shivering. His stomach wouldn't stop flipping, and his throat felt as if he hadn't had a drink in years. His body ached all the way through to his bones, and every time he breathed, his muscles protested in agony. The room around him was spinning and spinning, and no matter how much he pushed his eyelids together, it wouldn't stop.

He lets out a soft groan, but even that hurts.

"Arthur? Can you hear me?" a faraway voice calls, and suddenly there are cool hands on his face.

"Mmm," Arthur can't seem to open his mouth more than just a little bit, and he can't think clearly enough to form words.

"Hey, hey, stay with me. You're really sick, and you're fever isn't breaking," the voice says again, the hands are removed from his face, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Arthur tries to get out another word, but all that comes is a soft whimper. "Shhh, it's okay. I know it hurts, but I can make it better."

Arthur wants to scoff, but that would hurt too much, so he just lets out another groan. The hands are back on his forehead, gently brushing his hair away. The voice is strong and steady as it starts chanting in an unfamiliar language. Heat spreads from the hands into Arthur's body, enveloping his whole being. He cries out at the feeling, but within seconds, the pain is receding. He gives a sigh, the heat and cold of his body is gone, and his stomach gives one last flip before settling.

"Arthur?" the soft voice is back.

"Merlin?" he mumbles, shifting, and to his delight, his muscles complied without complaint.

"I'm here. Your fever broke, so you should feel a lot better soon," Merlin whispers. Arthur wills his eyes to open, and soon he finds himself looking up into two tired blue eyes.

"Mmm…you said…weird things…" Arthur mumbles, struggling to keep his eyes open and missing Merlin's sharp intake of breath.

"Go to sleep dollop head," Merlin says, and almost immediately Arthur's eyes flutter closed and he drifts off

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"Isn't this a sight? The great King Arthur on his knees," Morgana taunts, looking down at her brother with a sneer. Arthur gives no reaction to her words, keeping his eyes trained on his servant and his knees firmly planted on the floor. "All of this for a lowly serving boy."

Her words are interrupted by a low groan. Merlin shifts from his spot on the floor, his chains rattling. His eyes flicker open, and they grow wide at the sight in front of him.

"No, Arthur!" he cries out, sitting up quickly and moving to stand. He only makes it halfway before wincing as the many bruises along his body make themselves known.

"Oh, isn't this sweet? Brother dear, why don't you tell him why you kneel before me?" Morgana was positively gleeful, bouncing on the balls of her feet and sending her wild hair flying. Arthur doesn't reply, staring hard at the floor now. There is a few seconds of silence before a fiery pain stabs at Arthur's stomach, leaving him gasping for air. It continues burning through his body, and he falls sideways to the floor in misery.

"Morgana! Leave him alone!" Merlin's voice rings out above Arthur's labored breathing, and the pain subsides.

"Why should I listen to you?"

"You don't have to. Just don't hurt him, hurt me instead."

"Merlin…don't…" Arthur says in-between wheezes. His protests are drown out by new cries, this time from across the cell.

No matter how much Arthur pleaded, Morgana did not stop. He got up on unsteady legs, ready to charge at her, but an unseen force holds him in place. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she ceased the magical torture, and left the cell.

"Merlin? You with me?" Arthur asks, moving close to the small form of his friend. He kneels down next to him, and touches his shoulder gently.

"Arthur?" Merlin whispers. He shifts a little, looking up at his King with teary eyes. Arthur gently pulls his friend's head into his lap, wincing at every whimper.

"Do you have any broken bones? Where does it hurt the most?" Arthur asks, his hands fluttering just above Merlin's arms.

"Arthur…I have to tell you….something," Merlin mumbles.

"Now's not the time, tell me where you're hurt," Arthur orders, giving the man below him a small glare.

"There might not…be another time…"

"Yes, there will be. Now as your King, I order you to tell me where it hurts."

"You know I never…follow orders," Merlin says with a weak grin.

"Well hurry up and bloody tell me what it is then so I can tend to your injuries," Arthur grouses, shifting carefully into a more comfortable position.

"I'm….I'm a sorcerer…" Merlin mumbles, blinking, and staring up through glassy eyes at his friend.

"Now is not the time for jokes Merlin," Arthur says, his mouth pulling down into a frown.

"It's not a joke…." And with that, Merlin mutters a few incoherent words. The dust around the cell stirs, and gathers together in the air, forming a dragon. Arthur stares at it in silence, and then looks back down at Merlin just in time to see his eyes fade from gold.

"All these years, you've had magic," Arthur whispers, hurt coloring his tone.

"I've only…used it for you….I wanted to tell you...in case we don't get out…"

Arthur stands up abruptly, sending Merlin's head crashing to the floor. The man lets out a small gasp of pain, but says nothing. Arthur paces the floor, avoiding the corner that held his servant.

How could Merlin have magic? All this time? Merlin is a sorcerer. He uses magic. He lied. I trusted him with my life, and he could have killed me. He has magic. He's a sorcerer.

"How could you, Merlin?" he finally asks after a while. The other man doesn't answer, and Arthur moves closer. "You're a sorcerer. You lied to me." Still silence, and a small twinge of worry pricks at him. He kneels down next to Merlin, and listens for a pulse. There was only a faint stuttering of Merlin's heart in response. All Arthur's feelings of betrayal and anger melt away, leaving worry and guilt.

"I don't care if you're a sorcerer, Merlin. Just don't die on me."