Final chap! Thank you everyone for the last reviews. Hope you enjoy the final installment and excuse any typos.

Chapter 9

The next morning Arthur woke before Merlin. Letting the warlock sleep, Arthur rekindled the fire that had died out and sat thinking of everything Merlin had revealed to him.

It still left him amazed. He was also sure there was still a lot more he probably didn't know about his friend, but the underlying thread throughout the whole evening was still the same. Merlin had done all these things for him because he believed in Arthur and the future he would create and had a hope that one day Arthur's beliefs about magic would change.

Looking back there had been so many opportunities over the years where Merlin could have easily manipulated him into accepting magic, but he never had. He had simply just been Merlin, servant and friend on the outside, warlock and secret protector on the inside.

It was as if he wanted Arthur to come to his own conclusions and beliefs about magic rather than being forced into accepting them like it had felt with the Disir's ultimatum.

Arthur even remembered asking Merlin's advice about allowing magic back into Camelot in order to save young Modred's life and Merlin's answer.

There is no place in Camelot for magic.

In Arthur's mind he pictured the look on Merlin's face when he had said those words. There had been an emotion there he hadn't been able to fathom until now.

Despair with a hint of hopelessness.

After learning about the prophecy surrounding Modred though, Arthur had no doubt Merlin had said those words out of a sense of duty to try and protect him, but how those words must have hurt too. And worse yet, had he believed them?

In all the years he had known Merlin, the warlock had always put Arthur first and allowed him to make the final decision. Sure, he would speak his mind, whine, be blunt or disagree but he always gave Arthur the final choice and then stood by his side, no matter the fallout.

With all his power, Arthur supposed, the warlock could have easily chosen to rule by force had it been his desire as Morganna had done, but Merlin's choice had always been to serve Arthur, whether that was in the role of a simple manservant, a true friend and adviser, or secret magical protector.

It was something Arthur felt proud of and humbled by.

...

By Arthur's rough calculations they still had several hours journey before reaching Camelot's borders and so with reluctance he roused the warlock.

The first thing he did once Merlin was awake was to check his servant's leg. It was still pretty swollen and bruised. The dressing was dirty and needed to be changed but there was little they could do about that right now.

They had little water left and no food and a long walk to go still.

Helping Merlin to his feet, he allowed the warlock to lean on him, and the two, like the day before, set off. It soon became apparent though that Merlin was hardly able to put any weight at all on his leg as the two continued to struggle up and down the hilly terrain and through the thick forest.

When Merlin's leg completely gave out, Arthur only just managed prevent falling on top of him as Merlin collapsed and pulled Arthur down with him. Merlin let out a hiss of pain before clamping his mouth shut again.

"I'm all right, Arthur." He told him even as the warlock sat, clutching his injured appendage.

"Sure you are, Merlin."

Arthur sighed. It appeared there was only one choice left as he gripped Merlin's arm and pulled him back up to his feet then hefted the startled warlock onto his shoulder and started walking.

"Your boney hide is going to leave bruises all over me by the time we get back to Camelot," Arthur complained.

"This isn't exactly comfortable for me either, Sire," Merlin whined, blood rushing to his head.

Arthur's chainmail and armor continued to rub against him, not to mention Arthur's hand was digging uncomfortably into his upper thigh with a combination of pain and being tickled. His only view for the last hour was the swinging ground below him and Arthur's backside. It was one thing, Merlin realized, to be lugged over someone's shoulder if one was unconscious, but totally another and downright embarrassing when one was with it.

"This is getting to be a habit with you," Arthur grunted.

"Sorry, Sire," Merlin retorted as Arthur's shoulder plate dug into a rib.

His servant, though still mostly thin and gangly, had surprising gained a bit of mass over the years he had known him, almost to the extend Arthur could profess to see a some definition to his upper torso. In normal circumstances he would still not be considered heavy by any means, but after an hour or so of carrying him, even Arthur began to feel the weight taxing him.

Arthur traversed up an incline, panting slightly. "Don't worry, Merlin. I have every intention of making you pay for this."

"I'm sure you will think of something. What is it going to be? Polishing the whole army's boots again or mucking out the stables for the next six weeks?"

"You are not getting off that lightly, Merlin."

"Then what?" Merlin sounded a bit worried and Arthur grinned even as sweat poured down his face under his burden.

"When we get back, you get to break the news to Guinevere about having magic and hiding it from her all these years."

Merlin's eyes widened. "Uh...Couldn't you just tell her, Arthur? I mean you are the King and she is your wife."

"Oh-No. I couldn't possible deny you that pleasure."

"I'm not afraid of Gwen, you know," Merlin huffed.

"Keep telling yourself that, Merlin."

The warlock bit his lip in worry. Would Gwen really be that upset? Could she even accept him? Would she hate him?

Arthur suddenly hefted him onto his shoulder a little more to adjust his weight causing him to bite his lip.

"Aw!"

Merlin reached up and fingered his bruised flesh glaring at Arthur's back. He could feel the prat grinning.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Arthur?"

"More than you can possibly know."

Merlin sighed, dropping his head against Arthur's back.

The King eventually had to take a break.

Merlin propped himself up on his elbows on the ground where he had been plopped while Arthur stretched out his back and rolled his aching shoulders. Sitting up, Merlin handed him the last of their water.

Arthur took in the lay of the land, suddenly frowning and scratching his head.

"Are we lost?"

"Don't be stupid, Merlin. Of course we're not lost. Unlike you, I do have a sense of direction." He stretched his arm out. "We simply need to continue southwest, towards the Valley of the Kings."

Merlin groaned. No. Not the Valley of the Kings. He hated the Valley of the Kings.

"Are you serious? Nothing ever good happens there, you know that."

"Stop being such a girl, Merlin."

The warlock huffed. In Merlin's opinion it should really be renamed the Valley of the DEAD Kings and their stupid servants forced to follow them!

After resting for a while longer, Arthur helped Merlin back to his feet. About to protest about having to be flung over Arthur's shoulder again, he stopped as he saw Arthur gaping and then just stood there blinking.

"What?" Merlin asked and turned to see what had drawn his attention.

At the edge of the tree line, before them the unicorn stood.

With it's white coat gleaming in the sun, and its horn protruding gracefully, it stood gazing at the two surprised men a long time, neither afraid or aggressive. The unicorn turned, walked a few feet away, and then stopped, swiveling its head back and simply waited.

"What do you suppose it wants?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged. "My guess, it wants us to follow it."

The unicorn continued to watch the two.

"O-kay. Well, after everything else that has happened magically to me in the last several days, sure, why not just follow the unicorn? Makes perfect sense!"

Merlin chuckled. "That's the spirit, Arthur."

The King simply rolled his eyes and slung the warlock's arm about his shoulder and wrapped his arm around Merlin's waist.

The unicorn led them through a grove of moss covered trees and to a slow flowing brook and there, to their utter astonishment two horses stood, saddled and grazing lazily under the shady bows. And they weren't just any two horses, they both realized. They were their horses!

Arthur laughed deeply. "I don't believe it!"

Merlin was also grinning, staring at the two horses that look none worse for ware. He happily half hobbled, half hopped over to his own. It reared its head up and Merlin stroked the mare's neck. The gentle horse, affectionately named Tilly, responded in kind, snorting into Merlin's hair.

"I thought I had lost you, girl!"

Arthur retrieved the reins of his own horse that pranced spiritedly about, recognizing its master.

"But how?" He asked, then simply shook his head, not really wanting to work it out. "Never mind."

Merlin gazed at the unicorn that stood majestically at the edge of the small clearing. "Thank you, my friend. For your help."

The unicorn inclined its head slightly before kicking the ground with its front hoof and then trotted away disappearing into the woods and leaving the King gaping.

Merlin was smiling again. "Look, Arthur. All our supplies are still here!" From one of the satchels attached to his horse, the warlock pulled out his bag of medical supplies that included some clean bandages and dried herbs.

He hobbled over to the nearby stream and set about cleaning and changing the bandages on his leg, and then using the herbs, made another healing paste which he smeared over the wound.

While he was doing that, Arthur had riffled through his own packs and withdrew a clean tunic, then stripping down to the waist, scrubbed his face and neck free of the sweat and grime, before putting the tunic on.

From another satchel, Arthur pulled out some dried meat and cheese, and both men hungrily ate. Once satisfied he helped Merlin mount his horse before getting up onto his own.

They traveled for some time until they found themselves on a steep switchback trail that led down into the Valley of the Kings. They had to take the switchback very slow, riding single file along the narrow ridge. Merlin glanced nervously over the side as pebbles, kicked loose by the horse's hooves, tumbled down out of sight.

Once they reached the bottom they found themselves in an area of thick, nearly black forest unsurprisingly referred to as the "Black Forest."

It was a place in the Valley of the Kings few men ventured into with just reason. Here the canopy of trees grew high and close together, blocking out most of the sun and a thin layer of heavy mist seemed to always hang on the ground giving the area an eeriness to it.

It was quiet and only the sound of the padded steps of the horses broke the silence, which did little to comfort the nervous warlock, who remained skittish as he sat straight in the saddle, his head turning frequently back and forth.

Arthur, riding in the led, glanced back. "What's the matter, Merlin?" He teased. "Afraid of trees and a little fog?"

"It's not the trees or the fog I am worried about, Arthur," the warlock grumbled. "Couldn't we have simply gone around this valley? I mean seriously, how many times do we need to tempt fate?"

"It's not that bad."

"Oh, no? Name one time we've haven't gone into the Valley of the Kings and something didn't happen!"

"Well, you do have a point, but it's not like we have many options if we are going to get back to Camelot anytime soon."

Merlin sighed. Even if Arthur did have a point, it didn't mean the warlock had to like it.

Throughout the ride Merlin's magic was humming and finally the warlock abruptly brought them to a halt. "Wait, Arthur."

"What is it?"

"I think there's something up ahead."

What they found was an encampment, though it looked like it was clearly deserted. The first thing they noticed as they approached were strips of cloth hanging from several tree branches.

Cautiously they entered. Arthur dismounted to look around while Merlin chose to steadfastly remain on his horse with a guarded look on his face.

There wasn't much, a few lean-twos and a small hut made of branches and sticks, half collapsed. And all about, it had the air of abandonment.

The King toed the ashes of a fire that looked long since used and found a piece of a clay pot in the remaines. He picked it out, fingering the uniquely scrolled design on it before handing it up to Merlin to examine.

Merlin recognized it immediately. "This was a Druid camp."

"Are you sure?"

Merlin nodded, perplexed and not sure why the Druids would want to camp here, but then again there were still many mysteries to the peaceful yet secretive clan of people that the warlock had never figured out.

Arthur's eyes scanned the area again. "Looks like they fled, but I see no evidence of a battle."

The king then noticed a marker at the far end of the encampment near a stand of trees where the mist seemed to be more concentrated and appeared to ebb and flow in the shadows.

The marker stood about two feet high and was made of stones carefully placed with some sort of staff protruding from it with a hexagon shaped top piece wrapped in more colored cloth with an intricate webbed design made of thin vines in the center.

As Merlin stared at it, he felt his magic tingle, but not in a good way. A heaviness seemed to pervade the whole area.

"We should leave this place, Arthur."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure. But that marker and these strips of cloths were left here for a reason, perhaps as a message or a warning."

Arthur ran a hand lightly over one of the strips hanging off a nearby branch. "Best leave things undisturbed, Sire." Merlin warned.

The King dropped his hand, for once heeding the warlock's advice. "Is this another one of your funny feelings again, Merlin?"

"You could say that."

Arthur tossed the piece of broken pottery back into the ashes just as he found it and without further argument, for once, remounted. The two rode out in silence, but remained wary.

From the edges of the trees where the shadows were deepest and where the fog seemed to collect, Merlin thought he saw something, a movement, a shape. First one, and then another.

Both horses' ears perked up and Tilly pranced nervously beneath him.

"Arthur."

"I know, just keep moving and stay close," the King replied.

Merlin closed the distance between them and brought his magic up to the surface, close to his skin, and then allowed it to span outward, increasing his awareness.

What he felt made him uneasy. He could sense it, the presence of Dark Magic and worse he felt it could sense him.

"We need to move away from here, Arthur, now."

Arthur heard the urgency in the warlock's voice and didn't falter. He kicked his horse into a gallop and Merlin followed closely behind. For an instant the woods grew even darker as if trying to swallow them up.

Merlin felt something reaching out, whipping against his right side, and nearly unsaddling him. His magic instinctively reacted to the contact as if repelled. As he felt his eyes turn gold, a burst of light erupted forth causing whatever it was to shriek and withdraw quickly away.

Arthur startled a look back, but Merlin simply urged him to move faster.

They rode hard until they were finally out from under the dark canopy of trees and Merlin's magic settled.

Arthur reined his horse to a stop and turned about. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know but whatever it was, it's full of Dark Magic."

It was then Arthur noticed the warlock looked a little paler than normal and seemed to be listing slightly in the saddle, his left arm wrapped around and gripping his right side.

Arthur quickly maneuvered his horse until he was side to side with his servant.

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"It's nothing. Just a sting." Merlin said but his grimace said otherwise.

Arthur reached over and brushed Merlin's hand aside and forced his shirt up. Merlin tried to protest only for his hand batted away.

Against the warlock's pale skin, a large, very angry red welt about an inch wide and about twelve inches long ran down Merlin's flank, a fist width above his ribcage and down across his side. It looked like Merlin had been cat whipped and a nasty bruise was already forming around the welted strip of skin.

As Arthur probe for anything broken, Merlin swatted at his hand. "Ow! Will you stop that! You're making it hurt worse by poking at it." He tugged his shirt down. "It's fine, Arthur, just leave it alone."

The King complied yet remained displeased. "It, whatever it was, attacked you."

"Well, it tried to but my magic instinctively reacted. Thankfully, whatever it was, recoiled away to wherever it came from." The warlock shifted uncomfortably, and then huffed. "Now can we please get the hell out of the Valley of the Kings, Sire? I really hate this place."

Arthur smirked and shook his head at the irritated warlock.

...

Four hours later Arthur and Merlin crested the rise. In the distance the white graceful walls and towers of Camelot peaked above the trees. It stood pristine, solid and regal in the late afternoon light.

"It's a beautiful sight, Sire."

"That it is, Merlin. That it is."

As the King kicked his horse to move forward, Merlin spoke. "Arthur, wait."

"What is it?"

Merlin shifted in his saddle and Arthur noticed he looked small and suddenly uncertain again. "Arthur. Are you sure about this?"

Arthur frowned. "About what?"

"About me. Returning to Camelot."

"What are you babbling about?"

"Well, it's just that we never really talked about it. I mean, what you intend to do with me, now that you know I have magic."

This actually surprised Arthur as he realized Merlin was right. They had talked about a lot of things but not that.

The warlock's head bowed and he suddenly seemed to take a keen interest in the pummel of his saddle. "What I mean to say is Arthur, whatever your decision, I will abide by it."

"Is that so?"

Merlin looked up, straightening his back, as if preparing himself.

The King's eyes narrowed as he observed his servant. "So, Merlin, if I decided to throw you in the dungeons and toss away the key, banish you or worse for lying to me, deceiving me and practicing sorcery under my nose all these years, you're saying you would simply accept my decree?"

"Yes, Sire."

Arthur examined his servant's reactions studiously. He saw the way his shoulders slumped just a little, how he wouldn't quite look at him, even the fine tremor of hands tightening on the pummel. He read the hope in his body language, but it was also mixed with fear and lingering guilt.

And the truth of matter was Merlin had lied to him and deceived him all these years and now Arthur finally knew everything, the whole truth. The King's manservant was a sorcerer, and not just any sorcerer, but a warlock and a powerful one at that, a magic-born user in the heart of a kingdom that still banned its practice and feared its use.

And still his servant sat there and waited.

"Are you always going to be this much of an idiot, Merlin?"

The warlock's eyes snapped back up, blinking "Huh?"

"After all that you've done, do you really think so little of me, that I would condemn you or cast you aside?" There was real anger in Arthur's voice now and Merlin cringed.

"I...No. Of course not! I...It's just well...you will be breaking your own decrees."

Arthur held his head up, gazing at his Kingdom as if really contemplating Merlin's words. "I suppose I will."

By the very Laws of Camelot, Arthur would be breaking his own decrees in allowing Merlin even to return, yet, the warlock had still sat there, willingly and waiting for Arthur to make the final decision, a decision that would seal his fate no matter what it might be.

The King's sigh was deep and long. "I am not my father, Merlin."

"I know that."

"He was wrong to do what he did, to persecute based on his own fears and hatred rather than just cause, to condemn magic users simply because they existed."

It saddened Arthur to know that Uther's convictions had not and would not ever change, unwilling to let the legacy he had so carefully built and Arthur inherited crumble before him even in death.

"My father's actions left my kingdom and the lands around it and even my people divided. I meant what I said about wanting to unite the lands so that my people, all my people can live in peace."

"It won't be easy though and I also know I can't do it alone. There is so much I still don't know, still don't understand about magic, Merlin, and even though I am not my father, I am not so naive as to simply think lifting the bans will fix everything."

"My father created a lot of enemies, enemies that would still be happy to see Camelot's downfall. I have also seen too much of what sorcery is capable of in the hearts of those that hate. It can be a dangerous weapon, but like any other, it must be tempered in justice."

"I don't disagree with you, Arthur. Like everything else, magic is a matter of balance."

Where there was dark there was light and where there was love there was also hate. Merlin had also seen and felt both.

"You have always been at my side, Merlin, offering your advice even if I didn't want it or was unwilling to listen to it. And I can't promise you I can change things overnight. A lifetime of prejudice and fear will take time to overcome. But what I will promise you, Merlin, even if it takes me a lifetime to achieve it, I want to change the legacy my father created."

"I can ask for no more, Arthur. I know the road ahead will not be easy, but am willing to stand by your side to help you, like always, no matter the outcome."

"Even if I fail?"

"You won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

The warlock simply smiled. "Because you're Arthur."

The King just shook his head at his servant's unwavering belief.

"Come on you idiot, let's go home. There's work to be done." He kicked his horse to move forward. "As soon as we get back I'll need a hot bath drawn, my clothes washed, my armor cleaned and repaired, my boots polished, my horse attended to..."

Merlin gaped. "You expect me to do all that with an injured leg I can barely walk on?"

Arthur glanced over, smirking. "Well you are still my servant, aren't you?"

"I thought you were going to give me two days off." Merlin whined.

"I don't recall saying that."

"You did, when you were dying," the warlock argued.

"I must have been delusional."

Merlin glared. "Arthur, if you think..."

"However, the more I think about it, I think I will just dismiss you instead."

"What? You're sacking me?"

"Well I can't expect my Court Sorcerer to be mucking out my stables and serving me meals, can I? Not that you were ever any good at it."

Merlin gaped. "Court Sorcerer?"

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "Well, technically Court Advisor, for now, at least until we can work out a policy to start lifting some of the bans on magic, so put that on your list as well as the speeches you'll need to write me."

Merlin's head was still spinning but he recognized the familiar banter. "Do I get a say in any of this?"

"No, not really. You're stuck with me, Merlin."

The warlock smiled. "I could think of worse."

"Good, because I already have an idea for your new uniform befitting your new station." Arthur was eyeing Merlin with an amused look that made the warlock decidedly wary.

"If it involves a pointy hat, you can just forget it, Arthur!"

And so the banter continued all the way back to Camelot as the sun started to set and tomorrow would be the dawn of a new day for a Destiny, a Warlock and a King.

The End!

A/N: Wow, I can't believe I actually finished this in a timely manner. What a fun journey this was to write and I hope everyone enjoyed the read and hopefully felt I did justice this the AU series ending that left many of us just wanting something different. I really tried hard to stay true to the characters and honor the series we all loved.

Reviews would be appreciated as I would love to hear your opinion and feedback on my version of the series ending.

I have a lot of plot bunnies for other ideas to continue the story but I thought this would be an appropriate place to end it here.

Arthurian legend is full of different tales and events clouded in folklore and debates about whether King Arthur was a myth or a real person. Though many of the tales speak of Arthur meeting his fall at Camlann, there are some that talk about him dying later in some other battle. But that's the fun of fan fiction too, to expand on the legends we love and in my AU story I would like to think my version could make sense and stay true to some of the legends, as Arthur did technically fall at Mordered's hand.

I also like to try and tie up loose threads, but mostly I just love writing bromance fiction and studying the characters, want makes them tick and what makes their relationships and their bonds so strong.

Anyway, thank you all for reading and taking the time to review, for your emails and encouragements. I'm always a little sad to see a story completed, but relieved to. Now maybe I can focus on finishing a few others, lol.

Thxs - BSG :)