TITLE: You Honestly Believe I'll Let You?

SUMMARY: The night before the knights of Camelot - and Merlin - depart for the Isle of the Blessed, to close the veil between the worlds., Percival has found out Merlin's plan, and he's determined to stop him…

WARNING: Romance.

For Holly.

PPOV

He still thinks I won't find out his plans. Six months I have been his lover, and he honestly thinks he can get stuff past me. Gaius is nowhere to be seen when I reach the physicians quarters, so I just cross the room and push his door open. He's staring quietly out of the window, motionless and dark against the torchlight. The only thing that can repel these - these things, is the thing that makes him look most beautiful. Gwen says you can't call a man beautiful, but I tell her that Merlin is exactly that. She always smiles and shakes her head.

I watch him for a little while.

"I do know you're there, Percival."

"I know. You always do."

"I'm guessing you are here for some reason." I go over to him, slip my arms around his waist, and hold him close. He leans his head on my shoulder, his hair slightly tickling against my jaw. I press a kiss into all that dark hair. He smells like soap, and Gaius' herbs, and something spicy that's just Merlin.

"Let's just stand for a while."

He cuddles closer suddenly, and sighs, turning into my chest to wrap his arms around me. He turns pools of darkness up to me, and briefly rubs his lips against my jaw.

"I'm here because I'm afraid one of us isn't coming back from this."

"There's always that chance."

"But this time, I know one of is planning not to."

"I'm not going to ask how you know, you always know."

"You don't need to do this, Merlin. Someone else can do this."

"It has to be me, Percival. There's factors at play you don't understand."

"Then tell me, Merlin. Just tell me."

"If I could tell you, I would have told you the day you kissed me for the first time."

"I remember that day."

"I'll never forget it." The promise is in his dark eyes, eyes that seem so troubled for someone so young. Eyes of a man who keeps a secret that means the difference between life and death.

"I wish you could tell me what burden you carry."

"I wish I could tell you. But it isn't a burden, it's just destiny."

"Like what you're planning."

"I suppose." And then there's another silence. He frames my face in his hands, and I catch at one, pressing a kiss into his palm. "You won't let go?"

"Never."

"You swear?"

"On my heart."

"On your heart?"

"On my heart, as it's already yours. I swear on my heart, because it will stop the day you die."

"You are not going to do this to me!" he cries in frustration, pushing me away. He couldn't move me, but I step back anyway. "You are not going to give me this guilt trip."

"If it stops you doing something this stupid, I will guilt trip you."

"I have to! Arthur has to live!"

"I would sacrifice him for you myself! If I have to be the one to plunge the bloody dagger into Arthur for this blood sacrifice, I will do it to save you!"

"If somebody hears you say that -"

"I'll shout it from the fucking battlements to stop you dying." We look at each other for a long time, and I know we're memorising each other. If this is the last time I see him safe, I want it imprinted on my memory. I'm not lying to him - if Arthur is the price I pay for his life, I will pay it willingly. He's here tonight, his eyes gleaming orange in the torch light, and his hair just a little messy.

MPOV

I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. He always looks at me like it's the last time and the first time. He looks at me like he's drinking me in, like he's afraid I'm not quite real.

When I look at him, I see him as a knight. Literally my knight in shining armour, the man who saves me from myself again and again. I want to tell him every day, scream my secrets at him. I don't like lying to him. He knows I'm carrying my secret like he carries his sword - valuing it as what stands between life and death. He asks, but knows I won't answer. I don't know why he trusts me. Tonight, in this room, with the screaming echoing around Camelot, it could be the last night we spend together. Tonight suddenly matters more than any other night.

"Six months, and if this is the end, I want you to be with me one last time," I say, slowly.

"It is not the end," he growls, crossing towards me swiftly and wrapping his arms around me. "I am not going to let this be the end." He kisses me before I can say anything, but it's not what I thought. He's gentle, and controlled. Somehow, it's what I need, what I want. Tonight isn't the night to rush, tonight is the night to take our time. He takes me off my feet, and I wrap my legs around him waist. His hands are always so strong on me, his arms always hold me so tight. He's so strong, so solid, and people are always shocked when they get to really know him. He's soft and kind and so gentle, but there's passion and heat there too. He's the rarest of men - a loving warrior. Right now he's kissing me and holding me, and it's everything.

His arms hold me close as he puts me on my bed, and his mouth is hot and wet, and his hands raise goose-bumps as they run up my legs to slide my clothes off. His chain-mail is so cold against my skin I feel like it's burning, and I shiver. I slide my hands under his shirt, find warm skin that responds so well and so quickly, and trace patterns. He breaks our kiss to rise above me and remove his chain mail and undershirt. He fights bare-armed, with no helmet or protection. I can't imagine anybody not giving him whatever he wants after just looking at him. Right now those hands are being trailed down my ribs, slowly enough so I can feel every callus from his sword.

"I want to look into your eyes," he breathes, his lips hovering an inch from mine. "I want to see your eyes darken the way they always do, and I want to see you bite your lips when you come apart in my arms."

It's sweet and gentle and he feels better than he's ever felt inside me. I can feel my heartbeat increase and my breathing deepen. His kisses become a little more heated, his hands tighten as he lifts my hips to angle himself to slide deeper. I wasn't even aware someone could get this hot and live through it. I can feel my blood pounding in my head, and I can feel his heartbeat inside me. I can feel him, and I can feel the climax reproach. It rises from my toes in a red-hot flood, a rising tide I can't even try to stop. I grab his arms helplessly, and squeeze my eyes closed.

"Don't you close your eyes," he gasps, hoarsely. "Don't you do that." So I watch him fall as I fall, and when he holds me close as we're falling asleep nose to nose on the same pillow, I pray there's another way.

PPOV

The castle screams doom from the moment we enter it. There's not enough wood to last the night, the screams are louder here than anywhere, and Merlin is on edge. That never bodes well. I need him in my sight, and everything screams against it when he goes away with Arthur. They take too long, they aren't back, and I know it's bad.

And then we're in that room, and he is on the floor, and the entire world is closing in on me, as I look into eyes that are cold and lifeless. I can't even move as Arthur holds him, and I feel colder that death. He cannot be dead. This isn't happening, it cannot be that he is dead.

It cannot be.