A/N: No slash as usual. Since I'm currently working on/thinking about other chapter stories, as well as a oneshot and a little (whumpy) story that may be a threeshot, this isn't going to be something that takes dreadfully long. It'll just be another chapter or two. Quick fun side story. My reason for it? Merlin season 1 marathon (Le Morte d'Arthur!) and two o'clock in the morning.

"You can't," Gaius said, staring at Merlin with an expression of horror on his face.

"Because I've never risked my life for Arthur before?" It was a joke, but Merlin knew it wasn't funny. Risked his life, yes; Merlin had risked life, limb, and peace of mind to keep that prat safe. He'd even gone so far as to try to trade his life for Arthur's—though that had gotten extremely messed up, and somehow Arthur ended up with Hunith's life, Hunith got Gaius's, and Gaius got Nimueh's… Merlin's life had technically not been involved in the juggling, not for lack of trying. So yes, Merlin had risked his life for Arthur's before. But this was different, because Arthur would be the one who would take Merlin's life this time.

Merlin didn't doubt it would end badly if he tried to be a hero. Arthur had recently entered into another fit of "all who use magic are evil, no exceptions", mostly thanks to Morgause. So Merlin didn't doubt that if Arthur discovered Merlin's magic, their years of friendship would be nothing next to Arthur's rage. He would turn the warlock in… assuming Uther didn't figure it out. And it would be hard not to figure it out.

It was kind of fitting, actually; a life for a life and all that.

Nimueh would approve.

…Okay, maybe not.

But Merlin had found the spell in his book, so easy that even someone as hopeless at healing spells as Merlin could do it. He knew he had to jump at this chance. He just couldn't turn it down. Sure, it would hurt when Arthur ordered the guards to take him away, just like it always hurt…

But it would hurt worse to let Arthur die when I could help him.

Maybe.

It didn't matter. If destiny had cared what path would hurt Merlin the least, he wouldn't have been put in charge of babysitting a magic-hating prat with a tendency to attract danger.

So Merlin pushed past Gaius, shaking his head and trying to ignore the feelings screaming at him to rethink this, trying to disregard the tightening of his chest.

He walked out of the physician's chambers and down the halls of the castle, and no one stopped him. His determined gait and solemn face must have scared off all his usually talkative friends, but Merlin didn't care. He opened the door to Arthur's chambers without knocking, not bothering to keep his footsteps quiet like usual. Walking in like he owned the place, Merlin approached Arthur's bed, where Gwen was hovering over an unconscious Arthur.

"Gwen," he said politely but firmly, "please move."

She stood up, her face creased in confusion, and stepped to the side. Merlin silently took her place, sitting down on the bed and looking at Arthur—sweating, bandaged, injured, completely immobile. Sighing, he reached out and touched Arthur's hand; the spell worked better with physical contact.

"Gwella," he said, and his eyes shone gold.

Merlin was barely aware of hearing Gwen gasp as magic began to fill him up and then spill out.

TBC