Not sure exactly what to say here... Hopefully the story will speak for itself, though, so I'll just leave you with a disclaimer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

Arthur stared at the slightly younger man standing opposite him in his chambers, unable to move even a facial muscle from the force of his shock. The young King's mind was filled with the implications of Merlin's revelation, and with the undeniable truth which his servant's magic display had left him with. Two trains of thought, though, were prominent among the swirling mass of emotion which his brain had become.

Merlin was a sorcerer.

Sorcerers were killed in Camelot.

Merlin took the smallest of steps forward, his brow creased in worry for his King. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Arthur would have snorted his amusement. Trust Merlin to be worried about Arthur in a situation like this.

Suddenly, the King's mind was made up. It was almost as though the solution had been there all along.

"Alright Merlin," he began, beginning to pace up and down the room, while also trying to keep his voice calm. "Here's what we're going to do. I won't tell anyone about this. No-one needs to know. But you need to leave Camelot. Tonight."

Merlin drew to an indignant halt. "Why?"

"I would have thought that the reason was obvious! I can't have you staying in Camelot- someone could find out about your magic at any time. And, as much of an annoyance as you have proven yourself to be over the years, I hardly fancy having to order your execution!" The words were hissed (yelling would have attracted unwanted attention), but most definitely heartfelt. He knew that sorcery corrupted, but he just couldn't bear the thought of having to sentence Merlin to the pyre.

Merlin stiffened. And when the younger man spoke, his voice had a hard edge to it.

"So you're just going to banish me?"

Arthur almost couldn't bring himself to do it. But he couldn't allow Merlin to stay in Camelot. Not now. "I have no choice Merlin."

"Why?"

"I told you- I can't have you stay here in Camelot. If you leave now, then nobody has to know why. I won't tell anyone about your magic."

"Why?" Merlin's eyes were boring into Arthur's now. The tears the Blond had expected to see weren't present. Instead, he could almost have sworn that Merlin seemed angry. Which was, of course, ridiculous- Arthur was only trying to save the idiot's life.

"You practised magic Merlin. If you were anyone else, I would have called the guards by now. The only reason I haven't is-"

"Because I'm your friend." Merlin seemed about to throw up.

"Yes." For once, Arthur didn't mind admitting it. He didn't even care when his voice turned slightly pleading. "You are. And I know you don't deserve to be executed, but the law states otherwise. So you have to leave."

In the blink of an eye, Merlin strode across the room, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders. There was an almost tangible air of fury surrounding the younger man now- something in his demeanour forcing the King to keep quiet as Merlin started to speak once more. Only this time, it was a language Arthur recognised only after a few moments, and with a severe jolt of shock.

"Bedyrne ús! Astýre ús þanonweard!"

For an instant, it felt as though all of the air in the room had forced itself together and surrounded the two men, twisting itself into strips of twisting black cloth and clouds of billowing smoke. A strange howling filled his ear, vaguely reminiscent of the screams of the dorocha. Before he could even think to blink, though, it had stopped. And as soon as it had, Merlin released his shoulders and strode away from Arthur, radiating an awe-inspiring amount of power.

"So what are you going to do now, Arthur?" The younger man demanded, his eyes burning with fury as he spun on his heel to face his King once more. "Everyone here knows now- do you still plan on banishing me?"

"What are you-?" Arthur cut off as he finally registered that they were no longer in his chambers. They were in the courtyard, with dozens of citizens staring at the pair in a strange mix of bemusement and terror. No-one made a sound- not the old serving woman over by the stairs, nor the guards standing frozen by the castle entrance. Not even Sir Edmund, who had apparently been on his way towards the armoury. Every eye was fixed on the two men who had suddenly appeared out of thin air before them.

"Merlin," gasped Arthur, his voice strangled as all thoughts of shielding Merlin's secret were blasted to smithereens. He could almost hear his entire world crumbling around him. "What have you done?"

The younger man seemed more calm now. He stood before Arthur, tall and straight, his eyes glowing with an indignant and righteous fury.

"I have done what I needed to."

Before Arthur could even think to open his mouth in rebuttal, Merlin continued.

"I told you my about my magic because I felt I could trust you, and you in turn told me you would spare my life. You told me that I didn't deserve to be executed. The very fact that you said that tells me that you have acknowledged that I am not evil, as you have always been told that all sorcerers are. And yet-" Here the Warlock's voice strengthened, his voice growing even more commanding as more and more people poured into the courtyard. "And yet, Arthur, you simply told me to leave. Because I am, as you agreed, your friend.

"Are you really," he continued, "so blind? I never believed you to be so selfish!" Arthur would have tried to argue back, to demand to know what was wrong with showing a friend mercy, but Merlin gave him no chance to speak.

"You cannot simply let me leave just because I am your friend. In doing so, you are simply saying that, were I any other person, or had you not known me as well as you do, you would have me executed for the magic I possess."

A flash of golden eyes, and every piece of wood in the vicinity which had not been nailed down (as well as some which had) flew to the centre of the square. As twigs and other flammable materials joined them, the entire collection began to form itself into a structure which was oh-so-familiar to everyone present. Arthur stared in horror and Merlin strode obstinately over and clambered on top of the now-finished Pyre. An unlit torch rolled over to where Arthur stood, coming to rest beside his left foot.

"You have a choice, Arthur Pendragon." Merlin's voice rang out once again- so clear, and filled with such authority, that Arthur could do no more than simply stare, compelled to listen to every word. "You have a choice, and now is the time to make it. This single moment will define whether or not you become the King you were always meant to be."

The torch flew up, and Arthur found himself unable to release it again, even when the tip burst into a dancing yellow flame.

"Kill me." Came Merlin's next command. "You have already told me that I don't deserve to be executed. But I am here to tell you- I broke the law! Were I anyone else- some stranger you had never met, or even myself when I first came to Camelot- you are effectively saying that you would have no compunctions over killing me right now for wielding the magic that I do. So, unless you have it in you to change your views on magic entirely, and to admit that both you and your father have been mistaken all these long years- unless you have the strength to do so, and to shape a future with this in mind, then I am telling you to kill me. Because I am not about to escape and allow you to continue killing my kind when you allowed me to go free!"

Silence echoed around the square, so heavy that even the smallest of shuffles could be likened to an entire marching army. Arthur registered dimly that his hand was shaking, but he was too focused on the maelstrom of thoughts and emotions raging around his heart and mind to care what his hand was doing. He had only two choices- Merlin had given him no others. Free magic, and spend the rest of his life and rule atoning for the sins the Pendragon clan had committed against people he would then be declaring innocent. Or follow the laws his father had laid down for him, and execute the man who was the only reason Arthur himself had become the man- the King- that he was.

He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on Merlin's, and could have sworn that a collective gasp rose up from all around him. Another step, and Arthur could feel his entire body shake just as his hand had been. Another, and he was finally able to see the fear hidden behind the incredible power in his friend's eyes. Eyes which watched, the man unmoving, as Arthur held the lit torch out in front of him.

"Put it out."

And the King could never in a million years have held back the relief he felt when Merlin obliged. As the flame disappeared, and Merlin's face stretched into a proud smile, Arthur collapsed onto his knees, the torch slipping from his fingers. His hand rested briefly on the wood of the pyre, images of hundreds of lost lives flickering before his eyes. And, at that moment, in his mind, each of the faces those lives belonged to had something of Merlin in them. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up into the beaming face of the his friend.

And now Merlin had only two words. With none of the volume of before, but all of the wisdom, Merlin whispered the words so that only Arthur could hear. And those words, to him, seemed as though they were speaking of all the two of them had done together in the past years, and all that they would do together in the future.

"Well done."

Be happy. I highly considered leaving the story with Arthur taking that first step towards the Pyre. Luckily, my inner sadist, Winston McFarley, seems to be struggling with keeping up with the multiple posts today, so you're getting a somewhat diluted form of my usual evilness.

What did you think? Please let me know- like most writers, I crave feedback! Reviews are my fanfiction life source!