He woke up unable to remember when he fell asleep in the first place. His arms were tied to his body, a rope digging into his torso. Not tight enough to hurt, but sufficiently as to prevent him from moving. Merlin watched, through blurred vision as someone slid into the tent, the fabric swaying with the disturbance as the figure made its way towards him. His gaze was unfocused, eyes drooping as the blood loss caught up to him. He just felt so tired. Feeling as though an incoming wind could dissolve him, like a house made out of hay on a stormy night.

Once the figure was close enough, he could identify him as a man. He was tall and lean, wearing a robe he instantly associated with a physician. Slightly grey hair, cut close to the scalp, adorned his head.

"May I?" The man asked with a voice softer than Merlin would've expected.

He nodded his head ever so slightly, hoping the man wouldn't want further confirmation. The pain in his skull was increasing by the second.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you, Lord Emrys." The stranger said, hands rummaging through a satchel strapped to his chest, pulling out a couple of bandages. The use of his destiny-given name startled him. Did the Queen know about him? What was going on? As if to answer his unspoken questions, the man rolled up his sleeves to expose a Druid tattoo.

"You have magic." He breathed out, voice raw with disuse.

"Not much, I'm afraid, thankfully enough to ease some of your sufferings." The man responded solemnly, as if he was ashamed he couldn't do more. "You must forgive my Queen, she knows not of your greatness, Emrys."

"Does she know about your powers? What you are?"

"She does," The Druid began, a heaviness in his voice that spoke of admiration. "Magic isn't hunted here. It is revered for the magnificent art that it is."

That took him by surprise. Caerleon supported magic? Why would they ally themselves with Uther if they disagreed with his most fundamental law?

He felt a wave of magic wash over him, the pain that was previously throbbing, dwindled to a dull ache almost instantly. "Thank you." He whispered, eyes closing for a few seconds in relief.

"It is an honor, my Lord." The Druid bowed as if Merlin was someone of importance. Not just a servant, taken hostage during a war.

The man moved to walk away, only for another figure to enter the tent. "I see you've met my court physician." The queen spoke, a smirk on her face as she looked at Merlin. Assessing his newfound health. Then addressing the man in question. "You may go, Godfrey, I will need to speak with our guest."

"Do you make a habit of hurting your guests?" He spoke before he could stop himself. Years of insubordination made it extremely difficult for him to hold back while speaking to royalty. At least not, when he didn't want to.

"I can't decide if Arthur was right about you, Merlin was it? Maybe you are a fool." She began leisurely. "Yet, I see the intelligence in your eyes. There's something about you, I just can't quite explain what it is." Her eyes narrowed in contemplation before she continued. "What is it about Arthur that inspires such loyalty? From a servant no less. To be willing to walk into an enemy's camp, to face the wrath of an opposing kingdom, to endanger one's own life..." Her voice trailed off for a few seconds like Merlin was an enigma she was trying to solve. "Tell me, Merlin, what is it you seek? It's not about the money, I'm sure. You do not seem like a materialistic man. Is it the glory, perhaps?"

"Any citizen of Camelot would gladly give up their lives for the king."

"Yet, it is not that simple, is it? I can see it, in your eyes... This level of devotion, there's nothing common about it."

Their eyes met, the intensity of it sent shivers down his spine. This moment was supposed to be important, he could feel it, like static hanging in the air between them. "I seek no glory, no reward. I wish only to protect my King." He started, his voice low, powerful. As if the man kneeling before the Queen wasn't the unassuming servant. In this second, at this moment in time, he was Emrys. "I believe in the world he strives to build." And taking a leap of faith, "For he is the once and future king, after all."

The Queen's eyes widened, disbelief evident in her gaze, even as the first threads of suspicion snaked their way into her mind. He could see it, the dawning realization, washing over her features. However, before she could voice any of her questions, the tent flap opened once again.

"Your highness, pardon me for the intrusion, but the council is outside, they wish to speak to you."

"Let them in." Her face was the perfect mask of equanimity and poise, no trace of her previous surprise. He's seen Arthur do it enough times to know it was all a facade. Albeit, to her credit, an extremely well-practiced one. "To what do I owe the pleasure, gentlemen?" She greeted, taking a seat on the throne on Merlin's left. Just a couple of steps away.

"May we speak in private my Queen. " One of the five men asked, eying Merlin distastefully.

"You may speak freely, Merlin here is my guest. He will not bother us."

The council members exchanged glances, an unspoken conversation between them before turning back to the Queen. The one closest to the tent's entrance spoke up this time. "Your guest? Surely your highness, you don't intend to treat him well?" He had brown hair, falling to his shoulders in a tight braid. His beard was thick and dark, making him look wild and dangerous. His tone was harsh, his glare even more intense.

"I gave Arthur my word, Sir Harold. He is to remain alive and well." She spoke calmly, her composure not faltering for a second. As if she expected this kind of response.

"To hell with this!" He cried, outrage evident in his tone, his eyes burning with a vengeance as he moved, ready to attack the servant then and there. "They killed our king! And you want to honor his servant as your guest?!"

"Stand down Harold! You are addressing your Queen. Show some respect." One of the other council members responded, a hand coming up to hold Harold back. His voice was low and threatening.

Then the man visibly took a breath, gritting his teeth as he once again, turned to speak to Queen Annis.

"Forgive me for my outburst, your highness." At her hard nod, he continued. "Are you certain this is wise? You will not gain the people's support, by showing weakness. This is the time to prove your strengths."

Ah, and Merlin understood now. This man was like Aggravating. Praying on the loss of a king, wanting to take advantage of the Queen, in her grief, to undermine her and take her place. He could see it, in the false deference he displayed, the undertone in his voice. This man was dangerous, in more ways than one.

All the same, he could see the respect and rightfully gained loyalty in the other members of the council. The queen wasn't without allies in her court.

"My word is final, Sir Harold. You will do as I decree." Her words spoke of finality, tone bearing no space for argument.

"Yes, your highness." Merlin watched as they were dismissed, stepping out one by one after bowing to the royal.

However, Sir Harold, hesitated just as he was about to cross the threshold. Merlin could see it, the moment the man took the decision. The moment his need for vengeance outweighed his loyalty.

He watched as its time itself has slowed to a stop-And maybe it had, Magic was peculiar that way- as the man brandished a dagger from within his cloak. The weapon sailed through the air, twisting and turning with particular grace. He knew the weapon would reach its target. The Queen's eyes were wide, not having expected this, not so soon. He could feel it, deep within him, the dagger would strike true.

His arms were useless, tied to his body as they were.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He threw himself bodily between the weapon and its target. His body moved as if compelled by instincts alone, he's never been one to stand aside while another suffered.

The blade struck him right in the chest. Pain erupted from the point of impact, washing over his body in waves. He fell to the ground heavily, unaware of the commotion happening around him. Sir Harold was being apprehended, two knights already carrying him off somewhere.

He couldn't focus on that though, his mind felt disconnected from his body. The pain was overwhelming as he fell at the Queen's feet. Body hitting the ground painfully, head lolling on impact.

His hand gripped the blade feebly, throat already constricting with rising blood. This wasn't good. He'd felt this before, this kind of pain only lead to one thing.

"Guards!" The queen's voice rang in his ears, loud and panicked, her previous composure nowhere to be found. "Call for the court physician! Now!"

He choked on the liquid rapidly filling his mouths. His torso convulsed and shook, throat constricting with the effort to just breathe. "I- It's a-alrig-" More blood splattered on his chin as he tried to utter the words. Knowing full well what the queen was about to witness. He's seen the toll it had taken on Lancelot.

With one last, heaving breath, he felt the last threads tethering him to the waking word snap. Pulling him into the all too familiar void.

Death was, after all, inevitable.

____________________________

"-mrys! Emrys! Don't get up." A slightly familiar voice ordered, tone soft despite the commanding tone. "You've been through quite an ordeal, I implore you not to strain yourself." Two hands, firm in their grip, pushed his torso back onto the soft surface he was lying on. He felt disoriented, memories of his last death were hazy in his mind as he tried to regain proper awareness.

"W-What happened?" His voice scraped painfully in his throat, coming out in stutters as he tried to speak. The taste of copper was still vivid in his mouth.

"You died. Took a dagger straight to the heart." The words were spoken plainly and bluntly. The Queen, who he hadn't noticed yet, was sitting just a few feet away from him. She looked older than the last time he saw her, her exhaustion evident in her slumped posture. Her hair sticking out from her previously flawless braid. Her voice sounded disbelieving to her ears as if the notion was so far-fetched, she couldn't believe she was considering it. As in afterthought, she added, "My lord." He could sense her apprehension.

"I apologize, your highness, you weren't meant to see that." Lowering his eyes, he hoped he hadn't just ruined the delicate accord his king has struck. The last thing he wanted was for this to turn into an all-out war.

"Arthur was right about you, you really are a fool." Her voice held a strange combination of amusement and exasperation.

"I'm sorry?" The confusion he felt was surely displayed on his features.

"I struck a deal with Morgana," Her words made his blood run cold. Of course, Morgana would take advantage of this war. She must've planned it with Agravain from the start. "Knowing full well she would help me defeat your King. Yet, I find myself regretting this now, for it would be dishonorable to repay you by killing the one you were sworn to protect." Her eyes met his own, unspoken respect settling between them. "You have saved my life on this day, Emrys. I owe you a great debt. For my people would be without a leader if it were not for your bravery and sacrifice." Her entire demeanor seemed to shift right before his eyes, the exhausted woman morphing into the regal queen she truly was.

"I only did what I thought was right."

"Of this, I have no doubt." A smile graced her lips, her eyes shining with something he could not name. Godfrey, whose presence had been completely forgotten until now was looking between them with something akin to awe. "Leave, Merlin. Go be by your king's side. You may rest in the knowledge that if we do win today, it will be in all fairness. Morgana will play no part in my war. For she will no longer be welcome in my kingdom."

His eyes widened in shock as he straightened up, body sore and tired still. "What about your council?"

"Sir Harold is one of the very few knights who still hold my late husband's boorish believes to heart. Do not worry, for they have been taken care of. Besides, no one will question my order to release you, they have all grown with the legends following your name, Emrys."

Nodding his head in acknowledgment, he stood up. Legs still shaky, his limbs feeling like that of a newborn lamb. "Please, call me Merlin."

"Of course," Her grin widened as she added, "My lord."

Stifling the need to retort sarcastically, he bowed before walking out of the tent. His steps measured and slow as he made his way back to Camelot's encampment. Soldiers parted like a sea before him. Curious stares now replaced their previous contempt as he marched.

Soon enough, he found himself on the other side of the hill. Looking at the rows of tents positioned on the grass, he smiled.

It wasn't exactly home but the feeling was similar.

"Halt!" An unfamiliar voice called from somewhere to his left. "What is your business here?" The guard didn't recognize him it seems.

"I'm the King's manservant."

The man's eyes narrowed in suspicion, having seen Merlin come from Caerleon's side of the hill.

How was he going to get out of this one, he just wanted to see his friends.

"Merlin!" Oh, thank the goddess. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him. "You had me so worried, my friend," Gwaine exclaimed, laughter bubbling from his throat as he squeezed Merlin once tighter before letting go. "How did you escape?"

"It's a long story." Discreetly, he rubs his shoulder, not wanting to alert the knight of his discomfort. His wounds hadn't fully healed yet.

"Well, come with me," Gwaine looked at the guard meaningfully, "Arthur will be so happy to see you! We've all been worried sick!"

_____________________________________

"Princess! There's something you have got to see!" Gwaine entered the royal tent unceremoniously. The grin on his features only widened at the unimpressed look he got in return.

"What is it, Gwaine, the trial will be taking place soon, and I need to get ready." Arthur didn't even look back at the knight. His hands were fiddling with one of the straps of his armor. Visibly struggling to tie the buckles on his back. Merlin, who has been hidden behind the tent flap until now, decided to make his presence known.

Marching towards the King, he made quick work of the straps. After dressing Arthur for years, he could do it with his eyes closed.

"Thank you Gwa-"The words died on his throat as he finally realized just who it was, standing behind him. "Merlin!" A wide smile stretched on the King's features, erasing the stress-induced frown that had previously adorned the man's expression. "How on earth did you get out of there?" And then as if just realizing the implications, his face fell. "Gwaine, you need to hide him, Annis's men can't be too far! Why did you escape Merlin! Things are already complicated as it is!"

"Arthur, I didn't escape," Merlin said, exasperation and fondness warming his chest as he tried to stop the king from panicking even more. "The Queen let me go."

"She... let you go?" Arthur mouthed slowly, as if not believing the words even as they left his mouth. "Just like that?"

A horn sounded in the distance, interrupting their conversation. It was time.

"I'm going to need more details later." Strapping his sword to his waist, the man straightened, ready for the fight ahead of him. However, just before he left the tent, he turned to the servant once more. "And Merlin," His voice was quiet as he spoke, sincere. "I'm glad you're okay."

________________________________________

Standing on the cliff overlooking the fight, Merlin stretched his senses. Connecting with the earth itself as he let his magic weave and intertwine with the world. Knitting itself into the energy around them.

He had one goal in mind. Find Morgana and make sure she wasn't going to do anything to sabotage the fight. The task proved to be laughably easy as an upsurge of magic coursed through the fields, angry and vindictive. He could tell instantly that it belonged to the witch. He could see her, in his mind's eye.

Thankfully, she was retreating, her plan having been foiled.

Still enthralled by the flow of magic around him, he searched for Arthur instead.

He could tell the trial had already started. Could feel Arthur's presence as clear as if he was standing there, at his side. The king was fighting with vigor and determination. His moves met his opponent's with fervor. Blocking and striking whenever was needed. He was winning, he could feel it. Pride swelled in his chest, as he watched and waited. Sure enough, Arthur brought his opponent down, the other man, whose form was immense in both power and strength, hit the ground hard. Yet, the King didn't strike a killing blow. His sword was thrust into the dirt right next to his adversary's head.

He could hear the cheers, roaring in the air. Opening his eyes, letting go of his hold on his powers, he spotted the proud smile that adorned the King's face as he faced his knights. A victor in the eyes of the world.

Grinning to himself, he turned, intent on joining the man, wanting more than anything to be at Arthur's side on this momentous occasion.

He wasn't the only one, it seemed, who wanted a word with the King. For, as he reached the man, Queen Annis, followed by a couple of her knights, marched to meet them.

"You are victorious, Arthur Pendragon. You can rest assured that I'll comply completely with the terms of our agreement. My army will be gone by nightfall." Her eyes visibly held a new light for the king.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Their arms shook in mutual respect and camaraderie as they both regarded each other. That is until her eyes landed on him. "I see you're servant found his way back to you in one piece."

"Yes, I believe thanks are in order. You didn't have to allow him his freedom, yet you did." A question sounded in his tone, as he looked at the queen. Wanting to know just what convinced her to let her hostage go.

"He saved my life." She said simply.

"Merlin? Really?" Then turning to look at the manservant in question, "How?"

"Why do you look so surprised?" Merlin tried to look offended, failing miserably. "That's how I became your servant in the first place!" He reminded as if to further prove his point.

"A member of my council thought to overthrow me. Merlin here pushed me out of the blade's trajectory. I owe him a great deal, and so do you, my lord."

Arthur looked even more shocked now, looking between the two with rising astonishment.

"Although," The queen continued before Arthur could voice his disbelief. "Tell me something. You spared my champion, why?"

"It is not victory I seek, it is peace. I hope that today will mark a new beginning for our two kingdoms." His voice was grave as he spoke, showing but a hint of the great king he will be.

And she could see it, why the man standing before her, was the Once and future king.

"There's something about you Arthur," Her eyes shined as she looked at the King, her gaze then sliding to meet Merlin's. "Something that gives me hope for us all." A secret smile was shared between them as she turned to leave. However, before she took the first step away from their small gathering, she turned to the pair once more. "And Merlin, know that you will forever hold a place of honor in my Kingdom. Should you need it, Caerleon gates will always welcome you."

Merlin's words caught in his throat, only managing a deep nod in response.

It was only after the Queen and her companions disappeared from view that the King spoke. His gaze still trained on the horizon. "You never cease to amaze me, Merlin." His soft words were broken when the man suddenly lunged at the servant. One arm came up to ruffle his hair, the other wrapping around his neck. "Don't. You. Ever, do anything that reckless again." He spoke through his grin, his voice breathy with laughter. Letting go, he continued. "It's like you have a habit of saving royalty."

Their ride back to Camelot was spent in a similar fashion. The knights and the King inquired relentlessly about his time in captivity. The only one who didn't seem to take his story at face value was Lancelot. The man had a suspicious look on his face, his gaze trained on the bloodstains marring Merlin's shirt. Eyes narrowed in deep thought.

Merlin swore then and there, he would never tell the knight what really happened at Caerleon's camp. If only to spare the man further heartache.