Some go their whole lives without encountering the unknown. The magical and mythical. Lancelot, himself had gone his entire childhood without experiencing anything other than the painfully ordinary. That is, until he met Merlin.

A reckless boy who he saved from a griffin of all things. Not that the man was in any real need of saving. Now, that he thinks about it, maybe Merlin could've taken the beast down with sheer will alone.

What he hadn't expected was for his life to change so drastically from that moment on. Because that's what Merlin did. He touched and altered entire lives, morphing them into something greater than themselves. Lancelot found a destiny with Merlin. He found a purpose.

If only the man would learn to rely on him too. If only he would realize that he was no longer alone in his destiny. That if he wanted it, Lancelot's entire being was his for the taking.

Now, standing in the middle of the forest, under the cold, watchful night sky, Lancelot knew his efforts were all worth it. For, who, in their mortal lives, could say they witnessed what he had.

"Aithusa." The word was uttered quietly but firmly, ringing across the field with its power.

Tears, unbidden and inevitable, sprung to his eyes as he watched the dragon egg crack and open. A white, breath-taking dragon emerging from within its folds.

Its scales glimmered in the moonlight, its tiny roar echoing into his very bones as he stood there. Watching a miracle take place.

Kilgarrah roared in tandem with the small creature, rejoicing the fact that he wasn't the last of his kind anymore.

Merlin, for his part, was not better off than Lancelot himself. The warlock was wiping tears from his eyes as he held the dragon in his arms. Content to just watch it, pride and awe brimming in his eyes.

That is until their gaze met, mirror expression of adoration and joy written, as clear as day, on their faces.

That night, it felt like they could overcome anything. For, it felt like the fates themselves were on their side.

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Fate was not on their side. Merlin cursed himself for ever thinking it was. It all started on a bright, lively morning.

He ran through the woods, his feet pounding on the ground with rhythmic beats as he sprinted across the foliage. Red cloak swaying with the wind as dodged the arrows, knives, and literal maces that were being thrown in his direction.

He cursed the king for ever thinking this was a good idea. Not that he could blame him. A servant's life was more expandable than any knight. Merlin, even if Arthur was oblivious to the fact, was the best choice for the task. Since if he indeed succumbed to any wound, it wouldn't lead to his demise.

Merlin's life was, therefore, the most expendable of all.

Not that Lancelot would ever forgive him if he let himself get killed again anytime soon.

So he ran, dodging and twisting out of the way of numerous different weapons. An arrow flew particularly close to his neck as he weaved and twisted midst the trees. A dagger managed to graze his shoulder. Hissing through gritted teeth, he forged on.

Finally, he arrived at the location they had agreed upon while planning this little exertion.

The Caerleon warriors tailing him slowed to a stop, delighted in their successful hunt. He was cornered, a ravine at his back, a tiny army at his front.

Not that he had anything to worry about. He trusted Arthur to go through with his part of the plan.

"Nowhere to go, little knight." He bristled at the adjective, wanting to protest that he was taller than the man himself. He kept his mouth firmly shut, knowing he should be playing the cornered animal, right about now.

"That's the idea." He couldn't help but say, wanting the satisfaction as the first arrow flew from the bushes behind him.

The next thing the Caerleon warriors knew, they were surrounded by a dozen Camelot knights. All armed to the teeth. They had won.

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"Arthur, are you truly going to do this?" Merlin inquired as the camp grew quiet, most of the occupants already deep in their slumber. "This is not like you."

"My uncle believes that it is a show of weakness to otherwise let Caerleon's king go free. This treaty could mean great things for our two kingdoms." Arthur's argument sounded hollow to his own ears.

"Caerleon will never sign it. Surely you know that?" He tried tentatively, wanting for the other man to open up. "You've always done what in your heart you thought was right, I don't think you should stop now."

"Merlin, you have no idea what it takes to make decisions like this. Decisions that shape the fate of an entire kingdom. So, please, stick to things that concern you, will you?" Arthur's annoyance was palpable, despite the clear anguish, Merlin could see in his eyes. Deciding to ignore the hurt he felt at the words, he forged on.

"I am your friend Arthur, you can talk to me."

"I am king now Merlin, I must rule alone, I don't need anyone else."

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He watched, like a ravine crumbling down on itself and bringing everything down with it, as Arthur followed his uncle's wished blindly and unequivocally. Wishing that the man would realize just what his uncle's intentions were in his council.

Caerleon was dead. His kingdom, led by their grieving queen, was waging war on Camelot. And Merlin...Merlin felt utterly useless.

The two armies gather on a grassy ridge. Hundreds of tents are laid out before them, separating the two camps.

It is only at night when Merlin sees the shadowed form of his king sneaking out of the camp that he decides to follow him.

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"-If you win, half of all Camelot is yours." Merlin wants to throttle the brave idiot for his recklessness. The noble prat just had to sneak into his enemy's camp and demand of all things a trial by combat. As if he'd ever choose anyone other than himself to go through with the task.

Huffing slightly, he inches closer to get a better vantage point. He freezes as the edge of a sword is jammed into his back. The sting he feels tells him that the blade broke the skin, if only slightly.

Raising his arms in the universal sign for 'I mean no harm' he stumbles as he's bodily pushed into the royal's tents. His knees hit the ground painfully and he barely has time to put his hands in front of him to stop himself from face-planting.

"What is the meaning of this?" Queen Annis's voice is as intimidating as he imagined it to be. Her fiery hair matches her gaze as she stares him down.

"I'm sorry about this," Merlin mumbles to Arthur, eyes trained on the ground to avoid his king's glare.

"You know him?" The Queen demands angrily, already looking tired from the entire interaction.

"He's my manservant, he probably just followed me out of the camp."

"Kill him." Her voice is leveled, absolute as she issues the command, with no trace of remorse in her tone.

Bracing himself for what's to come, he mentally prepares an explanation for what the two royals will inevitably witness.

"No, please! Spare him." Arthur's outburst catches him by surprise. His latest interactions with the king had been rocky at best. He'd started to believe that the men wouldn't really care, if he were to perish this night. "He's just a simple-minded fool." Ah, there it is. His heart warms at the man's misguided attempt at saving his life.

"That is two favors you have asked of me tonight, young king." She fell silent for a moment, her eyes racking over Merlin's form as if contemplating what to do with him. "You shall have your trial by combat." She started evenly, her spine lowering to rest against the back of her chair comfortably. "However, the servant stays with me." At Arthur's rising protests she lifts a hand, commanding his silence. "He is to be taken as indemnity, to ensure your cooperation."

"My word is my bond. It is my honor!" The King burst, indignant, his attempt at hiding his worry was failing miserably.

"You care for this fool... why?" The Queen sounded intrigued, her eyes taking in the manservant kneeling on the ground with a different light.

"He's just a servant, he has nothing to do with this."

"He followed you here of his own accord, didn't he?" The Queen seemed to be talking to herself, her expression was of intrigue as if the two men before her were a riddle she could not solve. "I've never seen such loyalty in a servant before" Her eyes lifted to meet that of one of her own soldiers, nodding to him as if to signal something-.

Pain, hot and coiling, erupted in his right shoulder with no prior warning. Swallowing down the urge to yell out, he gulped, trying to regulate his breathing as much as he could as he focused back on reality.

Looking down, his breath hitched as he looked at the dagger protruding from his shoulder only for it to disappear a moment later. A new wave of agony rippled through him and this time, he couldn't help but let out a tight moan. Biting his tongue as to stifle the cry he so desperately wanted to let out. His blue shirt darkened with crimson as the wound sluggishly bled. His years of training by Gaius's side kicked in as he noted that the dagger hadn't hit any of his vital points, otherwise he would already be dead.

His ears were ringing, so it took him a while to make out what was happening around him. Looking to the left, his eyes widened as he saw Arthur struggling against three guards that were holding him down. The king was shouting something, the words sounded far away to Merlin's ears.

What had happened, hadn't the Queen agreed to a trial by combat? Why was Arthur so upset?

"-Just check on him! Please!" The King's voice slowly filtered through his addled senses, despite the numbness Merlin was currently feeling.

She ignored Arthur in favor of gesturing to her soldiers. Immediately, the three men stepped away, letting the King rush to his manservant. His hands instantly found the weeping wound, intent on putting pressure on it to stem the bleeding. With a dizzy kind of detachment, Merlin noted that Arthur's hands were shaking.

"It's going to be okay, Merlin. I promise."

"It seems you really do care for him a great deal." She stated, "I granted you the request you asked for, Young King, Now go before I change my mind." Queen Annis continued casually.

"I will not leave until I have your word that you will cause no further harm to my manservant. That he will be given back to Camelot alive, no matter the outcome of the fight tomorrow." Arthur's voice was just as steely as he stated his demands, his hands not once faltering from their position on the fallen warlock.

"I'm afraid you are in no position to make demands, your highness." The Queen stated lowly, a dangerous lilt to her tone. "Still, I find no pleasure in punishing the innocents for their master's mistakes. Your fool will live, I shall need him to remain here to be certain you'll stay true to your word." The guards led the troubled king out of the tent, only stopping when the Queen spoke one last time. "I should mention that if I see you or any of your people near my encampment again, both your servant and their lives will be forfeit."

With one last sorrowful look towards his servant, the king walked out of the tent.

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By the time Arthur made it back to his own encampment, the first rays of dawn had risen in the sky, bathing the world in an almost purple hue.

His shoulders were hunched, his mind running rampant with worry. Anger and guilt gnawed in his stomach. Anger at his servant for being so absolutely, idiotically reckless. However, he was even more so, angry at himself for leading them into this impossible situation in the first place.

He should have stood his ground, he should have fought harder to bring Merlin back with him. Yet, the fate of his kingdom rested on the shaky agreement he'd struck with Caerleon's Queen.

The moment he enters his tent, five heads turn towards him. As if they'd been waiting for him. Which, considering he'd been missing for most of the night, was certainly likely.

Their eyes are all wide with both relief and worry as they part to make way for him.

Gwaine and Elyan stand near the armor on his table, while Percival, Lancelot, and Leon are scattered near the tent's entrance.

"Sire, we've been looking everywhere for you." Leon stated the moment his eyes had finished scanning him for any injury. He could practically feel their gaze as it was drawn to the dry blood on his hands. Merlin's blood, his mind whispered.

"I went to meet with Caerleon's Queen."

"Alone? What If they had killed you?" Elyan exclaimed in shock. His expression was mirrored on the knights' faces.

"You did just execute her husband, princess." Gwaine chimed, his arms crossed across his chest lazily.

"If you don't mind us asking Sire, what news do you bring? What did you discuss?" Lancelot asked tentatively.

"I evoked the right to a trial by combat. The fate of this war will be decided at noon."

"But Sire, I believe we can win this-"Leon protested almost immediately. Arthur didn't let him continue, he wanted to finish this discussion so they could talk about more pressing matters.

"This is the deal I've struck. I will stand by it."

"Who will you choose?" Gwaine asked, already stepping forward, drawing the rest of the knight's movements in. Arthur could see it in their eyes, they would all die for him.

"Sire, I will fight for you, if you'd allow me the honor," Lancelot spoke quietly with no little conviction.

"This fight is mine, it is only honorable, and just." His declaration received similar looks of awe and respect, showing him once more that he was making the right choice. "However, there is something I need to tell you."

At the confused looks he got, he plowed on. "When I went to Caerleon's camp, Merlin unknowingly followed me. He was caught, and brought to face the queen."

"Where is he?" Gwaine burst out, his anger only barely concealing his worry. Similarly, Lancelot called, in a quieter, yet, not less concerned voice. "Is he okay?"

"He's been injured but I don't believe it's a serious wound. The bleeding had mostly stopped by the time I was forced to leave." And knowing what that must have sounded like, he hastened to elaborate. "The queen has taken him as a bond to my word. He will not be harmed as long as all goes to plan."

"Are you seriously considering leaving him there!?" Gwaine's shout was predictable, however, the similar looks of outrage on the rest of the knight's expressions were less so. "You just killed their King! Do you think they'll have any reservations in killing your servant?!"

"Calm yourself Sir Gwaine, You're speaking to your King!" Leon reprimanded, although his anger didn't seem to be directed at the knight.

"I know, Gwaine but we have no choice in the matter, my hands are tied. The Queen warned me that if she were to discover anyone near her camp again, she'll kill Merlin without any hesitation. You must not do anything rash, am I understood? Merlin's life is on the line."

Lancelot seemed to flinch at his statement, and he mentally reminded himself how close the two had grown during the past few months.

Gwaine nodded, although begrudgingly. So Arthur took it as permission to proceed. "I will fight tomorrow, and I will win. Merlin will come home safe, of this, I swear." and for good measure, he added, "Please do not make this any harder than it already is." For the first time since his father died, he let his façade slip, intent on showing the knight just how this was affecting him. Just how serious he was about this.

It seemed to work, for the knights all gained a different gleam in their eyes. One of both determination and trust.

He hoped their trust in him was deserved. That he wasn't making the worst decision of his life.