A/N: I seem to be on a mini-Merlin kick at the moment...enough to get this next oneshot out, anyway. I don't know if this idea has been done before in fanfiction (the sheer amount of Merlin fanfic makes it a distinct possibility even if I've never seen it), but when I came up with it I thought it was a very interesting concept - and a nifty addition to the Knowledge-verse.

The blue globe bobs gently, softly, and Arthur's blood chills in his veins. He knows what it means – pure and beautiful as the glow is, Arthur has learned that its purpose is far from light. The globe does not speak of innocence, but of danger – it seeks to guide, to aid, but it signifies a friend near death.

He yanks Excalibur from the dead Saxon – the miraculous blade emerges impossibly clean of blood – and quickly slides it into the sheath at his hip. The sword forged in dragon fire is not needed anymore – the invading army all lie dead, and Camelot's knights remain standing, triumphant – and now is the time for healing, not bloodshed.

Arthur only hopes healing can be done.

"Come on, show me."

Merlin sighed, and shook his head no. "I told you, it's not like that."

"Aren't you supposed to be an all-powerful warlock, Merlin?" Arthur asked teasingly. "And now all of a sudden you can't conjure a simple ball of light?"

"It's not just a ball of light, Arthur. It's…it's more of a…" Merlin struggled to find the right word. "A signal."

"A signal," Arthur repeated, his eyebrow quirking upwards in curiosity. "How is it a signal?"

"Gaius says it derives from the most instinctual part of my magic, the part which manifests our connection in a tangible piece whenever a certain situation occurs."

Arthur looked at him blankly. "What?"

Merlin huffed, and tried to think of how to explain this phenomenon – a phenomenon which, apparently, was unique to him (as if there wasn't enough unique about him already). "This blue globe – you've only seen it twice, right?"

"Yes," Arthur confirmed.

"The first time you saw it, you were in the caves of Balor searching for the Mortaeus flower. It…guided you out?" Merlin had to question because even to this day, he wasn't sure exactly what his magic had done, or even how he had done it.

"Right," agreed Arthur. "It showed me where the footholds were and where I had to climb to get out."

"But I was dying," Merlin said. "I was literally on my deathbed."

Arthur cringed as he recalled the first time he'd almost lost his servant. "Yes, Merlin. My memory is perfectly clear – you don't have to remind me."

"And the second time you saw it…?"

"You were being an idiot about your magic, proving once again how very unsecretive you are. For heaven's sake, you were using it to collect firewood! While I and the knights were all camped nearby! If ever there were a frivolous use for it…"

But Merlin shook his head again. "I wasn't collecting firewood."

"Yes, you were, Merlin," Arthur insisted. "You came back with an armful of it."

"Yeah, and you remember what else I came back with?" When Arthur merely looked at him in confusion, Merlin prompted, "Bloody clothes?"

"Oh, right," Arthur remembered. "From that cut on your head. From when you tripped and fell – again."

Merlin smirked. "You didn't see all the blood, Arthur. My jacket was covering most of it. Otherwise you and the knights would've seen that my side was practically soaked with blood."

Arthur stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I was attacked by bandits while I was collecting firewood that night," Merlin explained. "I managed to fight them off with magic, but one of them got me with a spear. I nearly died."

Arthur wasn't sure which shocked him more – the fact that his manservant had nearly been killed on an innocent hunting trip or that said manservant was being so casually matter-of-fact about it. "What?!"

Seeing the darkening expression on his King's face, Merlin hastily backpedalled. "It wasn't that bad, Arthur – I mean, yeah, there were like twenty of them, but they were really going for you…the plan was to kill me so I couldn't run back and warn you…"

"That is not possible, Merlin," Arthur insisted. "You were fine – bleeding, yes, but that cut was superficial – you walked right into camp without any difficulty whatsoever. There was no way you were dying."

"But I was," said Merlin. "I have the scar to prove it, if you want to see."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you were dying, Merlin, how the hell did you recover so fast? Why didn't I have to go looking for you and find you bleeding out in the forest?"

"Aithusa healed me. By fortunate circumstance, she happened to be nearby, and she sensed that I was in danger and came to my aid."

Arthur had to pause slightly to recall the creature associated with the name. "Aithusa, the baby dragon?"

"Yep," affirmed Merlin. "She healed me and took care of the bandits who got away from me before they got within earshot of the camp – which is why you never knew it happened."

"What does this have to do with that blue ball of light?"

"See, that's the thing," said Merlin. "When I'm close to death, my magic apparently sort of…reaches for you – especially if you're in danger at that point."

Arthur looked puzzled for a moment before it clicked for him, and then his expression became incredulous. "Do you mean to say," he started slowly, "that when you're dying, your magic lets me know?"

"Er…yes?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment. "That could be useful," he said finally.

Merlin scoffed. "You make it sound like I almost die every month."

"Well, from the stories you've told me, it sounds like you do!"

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, found that he couldn't, and shut it again. "All right, maybe that's a bit true," he said instead, ignoring Arthur's disbelieving glare (a bit?). "But if you've noticed, you sort of have to be in perilous danger yourself at the same time for the blue ball to appear. There's been plenty of times where I've almost died, but you didn't see the light." He paused, only just realising what he'd said. "Okay, that sounded weird."

"Everything that comes out of your mouth is weird, Merlin."

"Oi!"

Arthur scans the battlefield desperately, hoping for a glimpse of his faithful warlock, before he remembers that Merlin is not here; he journeyed to the Lake of Avalon to disable the source of the Saxon sorcerers' ill-gotten powers. Arthur had been relieved when Merlin said he was going to do that because it meant Merlin would not be involved in the battle — all-powerful warlock or not, Merlin was by no means invincible and though he knew how to handle daggers expertly, he was still no match for a swordsman — but now he fears that the same distance that separated Merlin from the field of combat will now be the death of him.

The blue orb still hovers near his head, waiting.

It was a Tuesday when the light appeared to him for the third time. Arthur had not thought about it since his conversation with Merlin, but when it materialised over the table while he was conducting state business with Princess Mithian of Nemeth, his eyes grew wide with horror. Remembering what Merlin had said about the ball only appearing if Arthur himself was also in danger, he took a quick moment to ascertain that there were no lurking assassins or hidden sorcerers waiting to end him — and then he excused himself from Mithian's presence as fast as possible and bolted out the door, already shouting to Leon and Lancelot to find Merlin now.

It was Percival who finally located the missing warlock, after almost fifteen minutes of frantic searching. Merlin had visited Arthur's chambers while the king was in discussions with Princess Mithian and decided to cheekily sneak a piece of meat from the stew George had left out for Arthur's afternoon meal. What Merlin didn't know was that the food had been poisoned as part of an assassination attempt against the king. It was only his magic that had kept him alive long enough for Gaius to force an antidote down his throat; a non-magic human would have died within minutes.

"This is what you get for stealing my food, Merlin," Arthur admonished as Merlin lay recovering on his bed.

"So ungrateful," his Court Sorcerer muttered weakly. "Do I have to point out that my sampling your food saved your life?"

"Yes, and almost took yours," Arthur retorted. "You're lucky you have a Merlin-death-alert system to warn me about episodes like this."

"What?"

"The blue light, Merlin."

Suddenly alert, Merlin attempted to sit up in bed, turning a faint shade of green in the process. "You were in danger?"

"For heaven's sake, Merlin, lie down!" Arthur ordered. "No, I was not in danger. Thanks to your appalling lack of manners, only you were."

Ignoring Arthur's directive for him to take it easy, Merlin struggled to understand. "But…how…"

"I'll only tell you if you lie down, Merlin."

Reluctantly, Merlin relinquished his upright position, but stubbornly did not admit that he felt better for doing so.

"I'm not sure how it all works, but according to Gaius," said Arthur, "before you confessed your magic to me, your subconscious knew the danger of exposing it to me in such a blatant manner, so whenever you were dying, your instincts would still reach out to me, but I would only see the blue light if I was in dire need of your magic at that point. However, now that I know about your magic, and you know I know, the…subconscious barrier has been removed, and theoretically the blue light should appear to me whenever you're in danger regardless of whether I am as well." He frowned at Merlin. "Which I have to say is a bloody good thing, because you really do seem to almost die every month."

"Do not," Merlin said petulantly. Arthur glared ferociously at him.

"Every other month is not better, Merlin."

His horse is injured; he cannot ride her to Avalon. Arthur races through the bodies of dead Saxons until he encounters one of his knights who still has his horse with him.

"Elyan! I need your horse!"

No other words are needed; Elyan has already seen the blue orb whizzing behind his king. Without a word of question, the queen's brother dismounts and aids Arthur in climbing onto his steed's back more quickly.

"Are your medical supplies intact?" Arthur demands urgently even as he takes the reins.

Elyan affirms that they are, and Arthur leaves him with curt instructions to see to Camelot's wounded before he digs his heels into the horse's sides.

Not a moment later Gwaine comes up to Elyan, anxious and worried. "Was that —"

"Yes."

Gwaine, naturally, was the first one to notice the sphere floating above the king's head. By now all the knights knew what the deceptively gentle blue globe of light means — thanks to Lancelot and Gwaine forcing Arthur to provide an exhaustive account of exactly how he knew to look for Merlin during the Poisoning-in-the-Bedroom — so Gwaine's expression was one of alarm as he pointed toward the light. Arthur took one look and swore as he, Gwaine, and Lancelot rushed to the throne room, where Arthur had ordered Merlin to protect Gwen during the siege by the warlords of Aspartane.

Sure enough, when they reached the throne room, Gwen was fussing anxiously over the gaping sword wound in Merlin's stomach, tear tracks running down her face as the warlock fluttered in and out of consciousness.

Arthur learned then that the closer Merlin got to death, the brighter the ball of light became, as though more of Merlin's magic left his weakening body to fuel the orb. He and the knights had a firsthand experience of this as they watched Merlin fade from the sword wound, helpless to do anything as the light grew brighter and brighter.

Fortunately for Merlin, another sorceress — one of those who had made Camelot her home after magic was welcomed back — was able to use her own magic to heal the injured warlock, and the blue globe thankfully disappeared when Merlin finally stopped bleeding.

Arthur never wanted to test how bright the ball could become before it blinked out of existence with its creator.

Arthur spurs Elyan's mount south, toward the Darkling Woods. He is worn from the battle and still bleeding from minor cuts, but his sole focus is to reach Merlin — that irritatingly noble, self-sacrificing idiot of a Court Sorcerer — before it's too late. At this moment, he wishes he were a sorcerer himself, so he could speed up his journey to the Lake of Avalon.

"Hang on, Merlin."

The ball floats beside him, keeping perfect pace with the horse's long strides. It is brighter than it was before.

Over the years, there occurred quite a number of what Gwaine called 'Globe Incidents'. Arthur disagreed with this term; he insisted it should instead be known as 'Merlin-death-alerts', as the warlock really did seem to attract a terrifying number of near-death situations, though he insisted that he was not actively seeking them out. Nonetheless, the knights preferred Gwaine's term, and as the events accumulated, they were given their own names once sufficient time had passed for them to appreciate the absurdity of their frequency.

Largely thanks to Gwaine's drunken tales in the tavern, word soon spread throughout Camelot about their Court Sorcerer's seeming invincibility — for he refused to die despite numerous near-fatal occasions. The citizens would have worried along with their monarchs and their knights about the well-being of the warlock if they were privy to the same circumstances — but by the time the tales reached them the incidents in question were already long over, and therefore safe to tell as part of a collection of legendary stories about how Merlin consistently avoided death.

The Mortaeus Curse, the very first incident involving the blue ball in the caves of Balor, was a particular favourite. The Unfortunate Archer, wherein a temporarily magic-less Merlin (due to his exhausting his magical reserves to end a famine in a neighbouring kingdom) had jumped in front of Arthur to take the assassin's arrow, was often told with a moral that bad things happen to those who seek to do ill (the archer in question was unfortunate because Merlin's depleted magic had suddenly stirred to life when the arrow struck him, preventing his death and causing a backlash that left the archer with several broken bones). The Fevered Dream was a more solemn story, as it referred to the occasion when Merlin had contracted a rare, deadly disease and languished in agony for a week before miraculously recovering.

As time went by and Merlin survived through countless battles, assassination attempts, magical schemes, and natural disasters — not to mention Morgana's wholehearted efforts to kill him — his reputation for invincibility grew. People began calling him Emrys the Immortal — and, as Merlin confided to Lancelot one day, he was afraid this might actually be true.

"I don't want to live for centuries, continually watching the people I love grow old and die," he fretted to the knight.

"We don't know that you are, Merlin," replied Lancelot, "but if your destiny is to live as an immortal, I'm sure it's for a good reason. Besides," he added, "even if you are immortal, it's extremely obvious that you still can be killed if you're not careful. With the way you attract trouble, you might not even have to worry about living forever."

Merlin didn't know whether to be assured or concerned by the fact that Lancelot was only half-joking.

The forest blocks out much of what little sun there is left of the evening, but the orb has moved in front of Arthur and it lights the way, softly glowing and gently guiding his ever-frantic horse ride. He is not certain how much farther he still has to travel, but he thinks the lake cannot be far now.

Much as he occasionally wished he could, Arthur was well aware that he could not possibly remain close to Merlin all the time. They were more than merely best friends — they were King and Court Sorcerer, and they each had their own duties and obligations — and besides, as Merlin pointed out, though they loved each other as brothers they would not be able to stand perpetually being in the other's company. Thus, there were a few times when Arthur was unable to access Merlin when the damned blue light appeared.

The first time this happened Merlin was away with Kilgharrah and Aithusa in the north on a mission to determine whether the rumours of more dragon eggs were true. Arthur had sent Percival and Gwaine with them to protect the last Dragonlord — and was very glad to have done so, when the by-now dreaded blue light winked into existence while he was having dinner with Guinevere one night. Knowing there was no possible way for him to go to Merlin's side, Arthur spent much of the night worrying with Gwen, and hoped that the disappearance of the light mere minutes later meant that Merlin had been healed in record time, and not that he was dead.

When Merlin, Gwaine, and Percival returned the next week, Arthur spent the debriefing alternating between yelling at Merlin for not letting him know he was all right and scolding Gwaine and Percival for letting him out of their sight.

"You know how he attracts trouble!" he admonished them. "What on earth made you think letting him go into the caves alone was in any way a good idea?"

"I didn't think it was, Princess," Gwaine defended. "But Merlin insisted he needed us to guard the entrance and Kilgharrah confirmed there were no enemies in the cave."

"It's not our fault Merlin picked the cave with boiling hot volcanic geysers," added Percival.

Arthur scowled at Merlin. "No, I suppose it isn't."

Merlin looked exasperated. "Dragons love heat. It was the most sensible place to look for any potential eggs. And I kept in contact with Kilgharrah and Aithusa the entire time!"

"We already read him the riot act after we dragged him out for Aithusa to heal him," Gwaine said impatiently. "Can we get to the part where we actually found dragon eggs, already?"

Arthur jerked in surprise, glancing from Gwaine to Merlin. "You mean there actually was one?"

Merlin grinned. "Not one. Two. I got them just before the geyser got me."

"At least Merlin didn't almost die this time for nothing," Percival said pragmatically.

"You should've seen Kilgharrah and Aithusa." Gwaine shook his head. "They were absolutely delighted."

"So where are the eggs now?" asked Arthur.

Merlin, Gwaine, and Percival exchanged meaningful, somewhat shifty glances. "I hatched them," replied Merlin.

"And I suppose Kilgharrah and Aithusa took the baby dragons with them?"

"We-ell…" began Gwaine.

Arthur began to smell a rat — or a dragon or two, in this case. "What, Gwaine?"

"Merlin, mate, maybe you want to do the honours?"

Arthur's head swivelled to Merlin. "Yes, Merlin?"

"Well, you see, Arthur, baby dragons usually spend their first two or three years with a Dragonlord…"

Arthur's eyes widened in comprehension. "You didn't."

Without a word, Percival got up to open the doors, and two tiny dragons — one brown like Kilgharrah and one dark green-gold — crawled inside, happily making a beeline for their Dragonlord. Gwaine had a goofy grin on his face — he thought the little creatures were cute mischief-makers — and Merlin's smile was positively beatific. Arthur, however, though he had to admit the way the dragons wrapped themselves around Merlin was rather adorable, also had to look on the practical side of things.

"Merlin, where are we going to keep two dragons?!"

Arthur is almost to the lake when the blue light flares suddenly, and then vanishes.

Ice-cold dread and denial clash in a nauseating mix in his stomach, and Arthur has to fight the urge to vomit as he pushes Elyan's horse the last few yards to the Lake of Avalon.

What he sees there makes his heart stop.

During the year when he and his knights were subduing a revolution in the south, Arthur kept expecting to see the globe. He didn't dare dream that Merlin, left in Camelot with Gwen, Gaius, and Lancelot, could stay out of death-defying trouble for a full year. Particularly not when Leon brought him the news that Morgana had attacked the citadel in their absence.

Yet throughout the entire campaign in the south, Arthur saw no blue light. By the time he returned to Camelot he was incredibly antsy, because of course something had to have happened to his idiotic Court Sorcerer — there was absolutely no way Merlin had avoided trouble for a year without Arthur to save his hide.

But when he reached Camelot's gates, there was Merlin, grinning smugly as he waited with Gwen for the returning heroes.

As if he had read Arthur's mind, Merlin told him, "I can look after myself, you know."

Merlin is alive.

Arthur's heart starts again when he realises the warlock lying on the sandy shores of the lake is breathing, his eyes open and gazing lovingly at the woman bent over him. She wears a red dress which Arthur vaguely recognises, and she trails water from the lake. Her long dark hair remains dry, however; it brushes against Merlin's cheeks as she lowers her head to kiss him.

Once Arthur's heartbeat has returned to normal, he feels awed. He knows who this is.

The kiss has not ended, though, and he feels it really should have by now.

"A-hem."

The lady obligingly breaks the kiss, smirking at Arthur. Merlin startles and flushes a deep red.

"Thank you, my lady," Arthur says sincerely.

"Call me Freya, King Arthur." The Lady of the Lake inclines her head. "And there's no need to thank me. I love him too."

Arthur manages to grin. "No doubt," he agrees. Merlin's blush darkens, and Freya laughs.

"I must return to Avalon now, Merlin. Your Majesty, I am glad our second meeting has been much more cordial than our first."

Arthur frowns. "Second meeting?" He has not ever met the Lady of the Lake before; he notices Merlin looks guilty, and realises that this is yet another secret he has not been told. He growls. "Merlin…"

"Don't be angry with him." Freya sounds amused. "It is mostly for your sake that he has kept this particular secret." She rises gracefully. "Farewell, Arthur. You will not see me again until your time comes, but I wish you every happiness. And don't worry, I forgave you a long time ago."

She walks into the lake and promptly fades from view; Arthur isn't sure whether she sank beneath the water or just vanished entirely. He turns back to Merlin, intending to get some answers.

"You look like death warmed over, Merlin." Arthur isn't even joking. The warlock is pale and shaky, and he shivers as he slowly pulls himself up.

"One day, I really am going to die, and then you won't get to make jokes like that."

Arthur frowns severely at him. "Don't even joke about that, Merlin."

Merlin sighs and looks at Arthur. "Blue light?" he guesses.

"Couldn't miss it," Arthur replies. "What the hell happened, Merlin?"

Merlin cringes. "I found the receptacle, but I didn't actually have time to unweave the magic of the spell, so I took a more…direct approach."

Arthur looks around and spots the broken bits of crystal and metal littering the sand. His eyes narrow suspiciously at Merlin.

"The energy backlash almost killed me," Merlin admits.

"Of course it did," Arthur says sarcastically. "Tell me, Merlin — do you enjoy near-death experiences?"

"Do you?" Merlin shoots right back. "You've had almost as many as I, you know."

Arthur inhales, then exhales. "All right, forget the near-death experiences — we've already been over this a hundred times anyway. What I really want to know," he stresses, "is why your girlfriend thinks this is our second meeting and what she has to forgive me for."

Merlin blanches. "Do we have to do this right now?"

"You're not dropping dead anytime soon, are you? Yes, we're doing this now. Just how many secrets do you have, Merlin?"

"Not very many, now," Merlin mutters.

"Good to know. Now spill."

Merlin sighs, giving in. "Do you remember the bastet who attacked Camelot years ago?"

"Yes. I always remember my kills."

Merlin winces. "Well, you just met her," he says matter-of-factly.

Arthur's eyes bulge. "Wh—the Lady of the Lake is a bastet?!"

"Was a bastet. She was cursed, but that ended when you…um…killed her."

"I killed the Lady of the Lake!?"

"No, you killed Freya," Merlin clarifies. "And then I took her body here, and she became the Lady of the Lake. Somehow. It's a bit complicated."

"When is it not, with you?" Arthur huffs. "Did you already love her then?" he asks seriously.

Merlin's face is all the answer he needs. Arthur swears.

"I'm sorry, Merlin."

Merlin merely shakes his head. "You were protecting your people. And you freed her. I never could figure out how to do it. So thank you."

There is a long silence as Merlin gazes fondly out at the lake, and Arthur — for what seems like the hundredth time in the last ten years — revises his opinion of his friend. It seems no matter how much he finds out about his former manservant, there will always be things he doesn't know about Merlin.

And he's okay with that.

"Are you coming home with me?" he asks, half-wondering if Merlin wants him to leave so he can spend more time with Freya. After what he's just learned, Arthur doesn't have the heart to tease him about his romance — but he will later, as payback for all the times Merlin teased him about Gwen.

But Merlin nods. "Let's go."

Merlin is still too shaky to do any magic, so they both mount Elyan's horse to ride back. Arthur casts one last glance at the still waters of the lake, offering his silent apology and thanks to the woman Merlin loves. He regrets that he will not have the opportunity to get to know her, but then he decides that perhaps he can still send her messages every now and then.

After all, even if he won't see her again, he's pretty sure Merlin will.

A/N: Thanks in advance for all the favorites and subscriptions. Oh, yes, reviews are even nicer! :)