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~
It feels like the floor has just dropped away from Arthur’s feet, leaving him suspended in some sort of imaginary land in which, Merlin of all people possessed magic.
He almosts lets himself fall backwards against the door behind him, but he doesn’t. Fighting through the initial urge to flee, to deny everything he had just seen.
Across the room Merlin’s hand is still lifted, frozen in that treacherous position, though the gold has fled his eyes.
In the back of his mind he registers that Merlin has spoken his name, but instead of answering, Arthur’s hand travels to the pommel of his sword, fingers lingering over the cool metal.
Merlin’s hand drops as his eyes snap to Arthur’s hand, there’s a fear there, something Arthur is unaccustomed to seeing.
The ring as he draws his sword is deafening, and Merlin flinches back.
“Arthur- please, let me-” There’s a slight wobble to Merlin’s voice, tugging at something inside of Arthur, so he silences it.
“Enough.”
Merlin flinches again, at the finality of his voice, taking a step backwards. A cruel part of Arthur tempts him to level his sword at the traitor before him, but he pushes it away, instead letting his sword fall to the ground, barely noticing the crash as metal collides with the ground.
“I trusted you.” He says it quietly, but he knows Merlin hears him.
The distance between them shrinks, and he’s fisting a hand in the shoulder of Merlin’s shirt, blue- he’s notes, in it’s vague appropriateness, for sadness is certainly an emotion he is feeling.
“Please-” Whatever excuse Merlin had intended to offer up is cut short, as skin meets skin and he is sent reeling, Arthur’s grip on his shirt never letting up, leaving him unable to draw away even as his body tries to fold in on itself.
“I trusted you.”
Arthur uses the hold he still has of Merlin to shove him backwards. Watching without the usual concern that Arthur knows he should feel, to see Merlin’s suffering, as the servant hits the ground.
The skin of his palm prickles, as he stares down at Merlin’s crumpled form. The servant’s eyes are squeezed shut, liquid gathering at the end of his lashes, threatening to spill down his cheeks, one of which is already starting to bloom red.
Arthur takes as step back, needing to put distance between them.
There’s the clank of metal as his foot comes down on something - his sword - he realises, not shifting his eyes off of Merlin.
He watches as Merlin sits up, long fingers probing at his cheek, he sees each of the tiny twitches that Merlin’s muscles make with each press.
There’s only one move Arthur can make from here, to do anything else would be nothing less than unthinkable.
Despite the betrayal that burned through his veins, Arthur knew he would never be able to face seeing Merlin executed, regardless of what he had done. But in the same vein he knew he could not just let him go.
Hands clenching until the joints ache, he makes his decision.
“Stand up.” Merlin’s eyes snap to his, but otherwise he doesn’t move.
Without pausing for thought, Arthur retrieves his sword, though he does not level it once more. There is no need, the message is clear enough without that final step.
~
It’s cold in the dungeons. It’s something Merlin notices every time he goes down there, though never has he felt it quite as acutely as he does now.
Drawing his arms close around his body, Merlin wishes he hadn’t foregone his jacket that morning.
Merlin can feel the heat radiating off of Arthur behind him. He longs to lean back, to sink into that safety, but the pulsing sting of his cheek reminds him why he can’t.
Instead he focuses on the burning warmth of Arthur’s hand, wrapped tightly around his left wrist, even through the fabrics of both his jacket and shirt, he feels it viscerally, sure that if he could look, there would be a pink mark.
His tongue flicks out, licking at at his lips, while his throat gives a click.
Each empty cell they walk past, has Merlin’s heart hammering in his chest. Luckily the dungeon’s don’t see a lot of action now Arthur’s king, so there’s no one around to add to
And when Arthur finally speaks, the words echo loudly over the sounds of their footsteps.
“Stop.”
They’re near the very back on the dungeon’s, where the light is little, and there is a lingering dampness always clinging to the walls, even in the very height of summer.
The release, followed by the sudden proximity as Arthur reached to unlock the cell, has Merlin tensing, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
The cell door swings open, hinges oddly silent.
A sharp press to the small of his back, forces Merlin forwards.
The soles of his shoes scuff against the uneven floor. His legs and feet feel numb, and he probably would have fallen, had he not thrown out a hand to brace on the nearby wall.
Steadying himself, and taking a deep breath, Merlin turns.
He wants- No needs to say something to explain himself, they can’t part ways with Arthur still thinking that Merlin had betrayed him. But even as he tries so summon his voice, he realises he does not know the words he needs.
Never one to back down, Merlin presses his lips together, steeling his nerves, before speaking.
“Whatever it is that’s going through your mind, Arthur. You know me, you know I would never betray you.”
His eyes flicker over Arthur's face, trying to read any expression there, failing, and no matter what he tries, he can’t get Arthur to meet his eyes, his own heart sinking as it becomes apparent that Arthur has no interest in hearing any excuses.
~
Defeat filling every inch of his body, Merlin expects Arthur to simply turn his back on him, to leave him down here, and return back to the normal everyday running of the kingdom. He knows the man in front of him well enough to know that when it comes to making a choice that could affect the whole of his kingdom, that Arthur would always put his own feelings on the sideline.
Someone so close to the king having magic, was certainly would have kingdom wide ramifications.
However, rather than leaving Arthur, appeared to be in deep thought, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows, whilst the angle of his head cast heavy shadows over his eyes.
Arthur’s lip press into a thin line. But when no words a forthcoming, Merlin can’t help himself.
“Arthur?” Worry for his own safety is overridden by is concern for the man in front of him.
“I- I’m sorry.”
It’s the wrong thing to say.
In the blink of an eye Arthur’s hand is in front of Merlin’s face, mere inches away, fingers splayed wide and unyielding.
“I don’t want to listen to a single word more from you, traitor.”
Liquid pools along his lids despite Merlin’s best efforts, waiting for the right moment to overflow and flood down his cheeks.
This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. He knew Arthur would be angry, but not this distant detached disappointment. He doesn’t know how to deal with that.
Merlin takes a single clumsy step backwards, wringing his hands in the worn fabric of his shirt.
The first tear burns as it all but slices down his cheek, quickly followed by more as if a dam had been opened up. He’s shaking his head, mouth moving soundlessly.
“Just stop.”
“Ar-”
“Shut up, Merlin!” There’s almost no distance between them anymore. “I don’t want to hear you anymore, in fact, I don’t even want to look at you!”
His magic roars into life, completely out of his control in a way it hasn’t been in years now. It sears through his veins.
Merlin struggles, mentally fighting with his magic, trying to rein it in before it's able to do whatever the hell it is, it’s trying to do. It slips out of his fingers, however each time he reaches out to stop it, until a sudden tingle in his toes has him stopped in his tracks.
His magic curls away from him, completely free, and now physically visible.
It shines as it drives a path through the air, golden rays more luminous than the torches that lurk out in the dungeon corridor.
~
As the first trace of gold flares into life in Merlin’s eyes, Arthur can feel nothing but contempt. Of course his father was right, all magic corrupts, and here’s Merlin his most trusted of friends proving exactly that.
Arthur mentally braces, eye trains on gold as it twists, and encircles Merlin, fully expecting the power to be directed at him.
He is surprised then when instead, when a gasp falls from Merlin’s lips, and the servant lifts one trembling hand.
It’s to Arthur’s horror that he realises, the tips of Merlin’s fingers are translucent, that the blue of his shirt is visible through them. Anger send an icy chill down his spine, it appears that rather than facing the consequences of his actions, Merlin is choosing to flee.
Arthur had always teased Merlin with being a coward, but up until now he had never truly believed it. Had he known so little about the man with whom he spent practically every waking moment?
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Arthur registers the shock that colours Merlin’s features, but he pays it no mind. Shoving it aside without a moment's hesitation, he watches as the magic spreads up Merlin’s arm, his legs already completely invisible, his chest quickly following suit.
Up until now Arthur had studiously avoided looking Merlin in the eye, scared of what he might find there, but now he can’t help it. Blue locking on liquid gold, he sees a flicker, of- is that fear? Before they, along with everything else, disappears completely.
~
Merlin stares straight uncomprehendingly at where is hand was- or rather still is. Only he can see straight through it.
Mouth dry, he swallows, throat clicking in protest.
He is magic did this, without his permission, acting on, not it’s own, but Arthur’s will. Because of Arthur’s rejection.
Jerking his head up, Merlin’s eyes fall on Arthur. He needs to see the king’s reaction.
It’s not good.
It Arthur’s disappointment had been evident before, now it practically rolls off of him, saturating the air around them.
“Arthur?” He tries voice barely above a whisper.
Arthur doesn’t hear him.
Instead Arthur curses at the air, his hands balled into fists.
Merlin watches as Arthur shakes his head once, before turning away and striding from the room.
Merlin remains frozen, eyes glued on Arthur’s back, his mind still trying to process everything, and failing.
When realisation slams into Merlin it’s like a ton of bricks, making him bodily flinch. Arthur thinks, he’s escaped, that he’s a coward, and has run rather than face his king.
"Arthur!" The King's name falls from Merlin's lips as he dashes after him, there's not even a flicker of acknowledgement from Arthur, and Merlin's heart sinks. Exiting the cell his shoes almost slip against the smooth worn floor stones, it's only by some miracle that he doesn't fall.
Merlin reaches out, intent on halting Arthur's progress. However, rather than his hand landing on Arthur's shoulder, a wash of cold shoots up his arm, spreading from his finger tips and up past his elbow. He jerked back, blue eyes wide with shock, his mind reeling in confusion and fear.
The cold feeling doesn't leave as he watches Arthur walk away, in fact in grows, spreading through his veins like a plague.
He can’t stop the panic that spreads through him, the fluttering of his heart, the sudden dryness of his mouth. He dares not take another step, scared that his legs won’t continue to hold him.
He listens, frozen as Arthur’s footsteps get farther and farther away.
~
Having lost Arthur down in the castle dungeons, Merlin knows only one person he can seek out for help, if he can find a way to communicate, that is.
He pauses at the half open door. Overcome suddenly with the uncharacteristic urge to knock, Arthur would surely laugh if he knew- well if, Arthur didn't hate his very being, that was.
Biting down on his lip, Merlin squeezes through the gap.
Gaius's chambers are empty, not that it would really make much of a difference if his mentor was present. But he feels like maybe he wouldn’t feel so alone if only someone else were nearby.
Shoulder hunching, he sinking down onto the workbench, surprised how drained he feels already, and it’s only just past midday.
The physician's chambers had always been a good place to sit and think, and today is no different. The distant murmuring hum of the kingdom’s citizens as they went about their everyday tasks a comforting companion as compare to the turmoil that raged inside Merlin.
He had no idea how long he had been sat there, when the door was pushed open and the man Merlin had been waiting for entered.
Merlin’s on his feet in an instant, closing the distance between them, forgetting for a split second that he is apparently invisible.
His heart drops, and reality comes crashing back down around him, when Gaius makes to sign of noticing him, and walks straight past, to the bench on which Merlin had previously been sitting.
“Gaius?” He’s a vain attempt, but he can’t help it. But the lack of reaction still hurts. He’s reached half way out to touch Gaius’s shoulder, when he catches himself, not wanting to experience that bone chilling emptiness that comes with touching another person whilst he is under this spell.
Tongue thick in his mouth Merlin, shakes his head.
Magic did this, so magic will be the thing that can undo it. He just needs to know how.
Newly determined, Merlin mounts the stairs to his room, fetches his magic book and sets himself up, cross-legged on his bed, head bent forwards.
Somewhere within the heavy book there must be a spell to make something invisible visible again.
~
Emotions churning through his mind, Arthur feels fit to burst. Stalking through the corridors he refuses to make eye contact with anyone, not that many attempt to approach him with the way his body language screams out not to.
The brief thought to head up to his room crosses his mind, but he dismisses it the instant it does. He can’t go back to the place that started it all. Not yet.
Instead he heads west, towards the less occupied area of the castle, deciding to seek out a self imposed isolation at the top of one of the towers.
The view of the kingdom and the surrounding forests had also been a source of comfort to Arthur. The seemingly endless landscape a way for him to put some perspective on his thoughts and feelings.
The sunlight warmed his skin wherever it touched, but for any part of him that remained in shade, the cold of the dungeons still clings.
He doesn’t know how to reconcile everything that has happened in that so very short period of time.
He didn’t know exactly what he had intended to do to Merlin, taking him down to the dungeons had been a way to make sure Merlin was out of the way. Not a way to hurt him, it was just unfortunate that Merlin knew exactly how to push all of his buttons.
He already regretted his actions earlier. No one should ever have to endure abuse, especially someone as tiny as Merlin.
Yes, he had wanted sometime away from Merlin, but just so he didn’t do anything massively stupid. He had most certainly wanted to be able to come back once he had cooled off a little and speak with the servant. Not for Merlin to literally vanish into thin air.
He tightens his grip on the wall, fingers digging into the rough stone.
He needed answers and without Merlin there, there was only one other place to get them.
Perhaps though, it was best to wait until the following day.
~
It’s hours later, the sun having begun its descent, when Merlin finally reaches the end of his book, having marked off three spells that looked promising.
Scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, Merlin straightens his spine, rolling his shoulders backwards to work out the kinks in them.
Perking his ears, Merlin listens to the room beyond his door. He wants to try the spells as soon as possible, but after the debacle that was that morning, he doesn’t want to try anything if there’s anyone but Gaius in the other room.
His ears are met with nothing but the sound of Gaius humming away to some unknown tune. A sound that Merlin can’t help but let bring a smile to his face.
Over the years living with his mentor, Merlin couldn’t help but notice, that Gaius would only indulge in activities such as humming, when he believed he was completely alone and unobserved. Hastily stopping if anyone including Merlin made their presence known.
Heaving himself to his feet, Merlin rolls his shoulders once more, before flicking back through the pages to his first mark.
“Okay, let’s see.”
Focusing on the warm swirling pool deep inside, Merlin lets his eyes run across the page, mouth sounding out the spelling, without stumble.
Unfortunately the warmth that Merlin usually feels when accessing his magic never comes, instead there’s simply nothing.
Despite himself Merlin can’t help but bring it hand up in front of his face.
The off white sheets of his bed greet him, as as expected he is still translucent.
“Damn it.” It was almost too much to hope for, that the first spell he try be a success, but that doesn’t stop the wave of disappointment anyway.
Gritting his teeth, Merlin turns to the next spell.This one for sure.
~
It’s the sound of people talking that wakes Merlin the following day, voices drifting upwards from the room below.
He feels cold, even still fully dressed from the day before as well as having his blanket. Pealing his eyelids apart, Merlin takes in the early morning light as it streams in through his window.
Unfolding his arms from where they had remained wrapped around himself, Merlin sits up. His joints feel stiff and sore, as if he had been playing at being a dummy for the knights, rather than just performing his normal duties.
He wonders if his general feeling of unwellness is a consequence of his current incorporeal form. Reluctantly he unwraps himself from his blanket, he doesn’t want to put his theory to the test, just incase it proves correct.
He still feels the need to tread lightly, even though he knows logically no one can hear him.
Leaning his weight against the door, he presses his ear flat up against it, involuntarily holding his breath, as he waits for someone to speak.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about. It concerns, Merlin.” That’s Arthur’s voice.
Merlin’s throat catches, hand lifting he presses the back of it to his mouth.
“Is this about why he didn’t come home last night, sire?”
There’s a long pause, followed by the sounds of steps and rustling fabrics.
“That is part of it, yes.”
“I see.”
Merlin knows the moment they take a seat.
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes, about…” Arthur trails off, likely double checking they’re alone. “About the magic.”
“I see. And is this the reason why my ward is currently not at home?”
“I didn’t do anything to him, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
There’s a long release of breath.
“He is however, missing.”
Merlin’s heart leaps into his throat, overcome by his own curiosity, he pushes his door just far enough for him to be able to see out. It’s an awkward angle, but he’s able to make out the back of Arthur’s head, along with Gaius sat directly opposite him.
His mentor’s face is lined with worry, which Merlin longs to banish, though he knows he can do nothing currently, except for listen.
“Start from the beginning. What do you mean he’s missing?”
Merlin sees Arthur’s shoulders, drop and though he can’t see his face, he knows that underlying tone of guilt anywhere.
“I was angry, really angry.” Gaius’s face remains carefully schooled, as Arthur shakes his head, “I told him, I don’t want to hear him or see him, anymore. And suddenly there’s this golden light, swirling around him.”
Arthur lifts one hand, spinning a finger as he says swirling. “I didn’t want him there, anymore and suddenly he wasn’t. I suppose he to teleported to his mother's or something.”
Gaius’s eyebrows draw together as he listens to Arthur’s recount.
“Actually sire, I don’t believe that sounds like a teleportation spell.”
The physician shakes his head, straightening up in his seat.
“No. In fact, and this is just a speculation, but based on what I already know about the unique nature of Merlin’s magic, which from what I have observed acts, in a very literal sense. That his magic heard your wish to make Merlin unseen and unheard and did exactly that.”
Merlin blinks owlishly, he knew Gaius was smart of course, but for the physician to deduce exactly what had occurred correctly first time, was to Merlin a incredible feat. It was also something that gave him hope, for Gaius being able to provide a solution to the problem.
“You mean he’s invisible?”
“Exactly that.”
There’s a silence as Arthur digests the information.
“There’s one thing thing I don’t understand though. Why would Merlin’s magic respond to what I want? Surely it’s a danger if it goes around acting out the wishes of others?”
“Very observant, sire. It’s actually lot simpler than that. You see, both you and Merlin share a destiny, you the Once and Future King, and him, the most powerful warlock to ever live, Emrys.”
Arthur’s on his feet in a flash, arms crossed as he begins pacing.
“I- We’re what…?”
“This is something you would be better off asking Merlin about.”
“Merlin’s not here.”
“I know, but I believe you may be the only person that can get him back. If my theory is correct, and Merlin’s magic acted on your will, then only your will can bring him back to us.”
“How?” Arthur spins, his blond hair in disarray from frantic fingers.
“You have to show him, and by extension his magic, that you do not reject him, that you accept him and everything that that entails.” Arthur’s arms drop to his sides, his whole posture screaming, resignation.
“Right. Thank you, Gaius.”
Merlin watches as Arthur leaves, a bubble of hope filling his chest. He can feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He takes a final moment to compose himself, before leaping to his feet, and hurrying after Arthur.
~
By the time he reaches Arthur’s room the king is already sat on his bed, head bent forwards and hands clasped together in front of him.
He looks defeated already.
Merlin frowns. They’ve just been given a solution and this is how Arthur is acting? As if he’s been told that the world is ending and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.
Merlin feels an anger of his own now, how can Arthur give up before he’d even tried.
“Damn it, Arthur!”
Frustration fills him, and before he knows it, his magic bursts free, flaring out and slamming the door behind him closed.
Arthur’s head jerks up, hands parting to form fists, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice.
Seeing no one however, has him frowning again. Before a thought suddenly clicks, “Merlin?”
“Yes you prat!” Merlin shouts, practically buzzing with the euphoria of having his magic back, even for just a moment, as well as snapping Arthur out of his daze.
He’s shaking, adrenaline, racing through his veins, making him feel alive once more.
“Merlin? Is that you?” Arthur turns about, eyes searching the room, looking for some sort of sign, for anything.
Hands clenching, and brow furrowing, Merlin closes the distance between them.
Up close Merlin can see how the last couple of days have taken their toll on Arthur. Grey smudges encircling his eyes, red bleeding into the whites of them.
He longs to touch Arthur.
His previous fear of the man in front of him, gone in the wake of everything.
Unable, he fists his hands in the long fabric of his sleeves, never more had he wished that he could just reach out and touch.
Arthur's not even looking his way. Light blue eyes fixed about a metre to the left of where Merlin is actually standing.
Inhaling a long slow breath, Merlin turns his thoughts inward.
His magic is still distant, nowhere near as present as it has been for his whole life up until this point, but it’s not longer completely out of his reach.
Magic dances around his mental grasp, like a playful puppy, it’s only with a particular patience that he’s able to finally latch hold of it, drawing it inch by slow inch, from the depths.
Merlin’s trembling by the time he draws it to the surface. Clenching his jaw, he feels sweat slide down the back of his neck, as he shakes his magic, letting not a slither of it break free.
The heat behind his eyes grows, as he concentrates, pouring his need into it.
For any other sorcerer, undoing the magic without a spell would be impossible, but Merlin has never really needed spells. Sure they help, but they’re not necessary, they never have been.
It’s in that moment, that Merlin understands more about his magic than he ever has before.
Gold sparks between his fingers, and as a gasp falls from Arthur’s lips, it takes Merlin a second to realise that he’s now visible.
The rush as his magic flies free sends Merlin stumbling, near enough losing his footing, and only saved from hitting the floor by Arthur.
The blond’s arms encircling him, supporting him, as he all but sags.
~
A warmth that he hadn't even realised was missing floods through him, the world coming back into a sharp focus, colours brightening, as the hazy of grey that had followed him for the past few days flees.
His face is pressed against Arthur’s chest, the ever present warmth as Arthur seems to exude soaking in his cheek.
He wishes for a moment that the world could just stop turning, that he could spend eternity being held close.
However the moment is broken not a moment later when Arthur clears his throat.
His head snaps up and they lock eyes.
Seeing the recognition in Arthur’s eyes, and the way they no longer look past him, but actually at him, sends an unexpected surge through Merlin and he has to fight to stop the tears that threaten to fall, burying his face back in the fabric of Arthur's shirt.
His knees still feel weak, and he's sure if not for Arthur's arms around him he would be on the floor. A sound, not a whimper, but almost bubbles up from between his lips.
It's strange, he spent so long trying to be heard when the world was deaf to him, and now that he's back all those words have fled. He tightens his hold around Arthur, grounding himself.
"It's alright, Merlin. You're okay."
He hadn't noticed he was still shaking, though now no longer from the effort of reining his magic in, but simply from the intensity of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
“Look at me, please.”
Merlin can feel the plea in Arthur’s words even if he doesn't say it exactly, and he doesn't hesitate to obey.
He’s able to maintain eye contact this time, pushing away the urge he still feels to retreat.
There’s a glistening in Arthur’s eyes, like unshed tears waiting to fall.
Merlin swallows, throat dry.
“Arthur-”
“I’m sorry.”
Merlin’s eyes grow wide. He doesn't think he’s ever heard Arthur apologies to anyone before, let alone a servant, and now known sorcerer.
It leaves Merlin speechless.
“I know you and I should have trusted you, that you’d never betray me no matter what stupid thing you got involved in.” Arthur breaks eye contact, shaking his head, “this whole mess was my fault.”
“No, Arthur- I didn't tell you, even... even after I knew I could trust you. I still kept my magic hidden.”
Merlin licks his lips. “We both messed up.”
“I suppose we did.” Arthur glances away, a sudden unsurety coming over him.
Before he leans his head forward just a bit until their foreheads are touching.
“But I hope this isn't just as bad?”
It takes Merlin only a split second to realise what Arthur means but it’s long enough so he’s able to prepare.
Arthur’s lips are warm against his still cool ones.
It’s easy to open up when Arthur’s tongue requests entry and before he even knows how long it’s been they’re pulling apart, gasping for breath.
“That’s not bad at all.”