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Chapter Text

I must find him, I must find Emrys.

Arthur had been on the search for the notorious sorcerer for months, only to come up empty-handed every single time. Whenever he was seen, he would disappear even before the warning bells could be rung, leaving Arthur even more frustrated than the time before. It felt almost as if the man was playing with his head, waiting for Arthur to go mad so he could swoop in for the kill. Adding to all of the frustration, he had no idea what Emrys even looked like, as he wore a variety of disguises to mess with the guards and Arthur himself.

Without knowing who he (she?) really was, there were no leads on how to find him. Therefore, he could have been within the castle at this very moment, and Arthur would know no different. If only there was some way to draw the sorcerer out from hiding...

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and wondered exactly what a sorcerer would be looking for in Camelot. Besides an opportunity to slay the king, which Emrys had thoroughly avoided, there seemed to be no reason any magic user in their right mind would step foot into the city. There had to be some type of motive, but even if there was, why was he still in the city after so many months? Wouldn't he retrieve what he came for and then leave?

Thinking about it made his head hurt, that there was nothing he could possibly do to catch this sorcerer. He decided to stop for now, as there was a meeting with the knights of the round table in a short while, where they would surely breach the subject of Emrys again. He closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair, enjoying his few moments of peace and quiet. Letting out a deep breath, he tried to forget about the fact that there was a crazy sorcerer running through Camelot at this very moment.

Needless to say, he failed.

Eventually, he was called from his chambers to attend the meeting, where the members droned on about patrols and the surrounding kingdoms and the state of the food stores. It was all very bland and boring, and while Arthur looked around as Leon spoke, he could tell the rest of the knights thought so as well. He figured he ought to put them out of their misery and put his hand up to address to Leon that he should stop speaking.

"Yes, sire?" Leon asked.

"While the state of the stores are important, Sir Leon, we must address the more important matter at hand which is the sorcerer Emrys." Arthur began. "He has consistently been evading capture for going on three months now, and we must put a stop to this. It is obvious that he has some type of plan to cause harm to Camelot, as all sorcerers do, and in order to capture him we must find out what he is going to do. Now, have there been any sightings in the past day?"

"Yes, my lord." One of the knights spoke up, "An old man was seen to be levitating a bag behind him as he walked in the lower town, but before he could be turned in he vanished."

"Alright, what about the time before that?" Arthur questioned.

"A person in a cloak was seen lurking late at night in the lower town, possibly practicing sorcery. The witness does not have specifics." Another knight said.

"Alright, and before that?"

"My lord–," Gwaine started, but was cut off by another knight.

"There was mead stolen from the tavern, but there was no evidence of anyone having been there. It was as if they were never there at all." Lancelot stated.

"My lord," Gwaine said, "What do any of these sightings mean to the search? They provide no evidence on who the sorcerer, Emrys, is, nor do they tell us what he's after."

"Yes, Sir Gwaine, that is true, but what do all these sightings have in common?" Arthur turned to ask the entire table, but was faced with silence. He looked around him, at the knights as they avoided his gaze in favor of looking either down at their feet or up at the ceiling. Standing, he slammed a fist into the table to draw their attention back to him. "Do none of you see the connection between these three instances?!" He scolded, then sighed. "They all have occurred in the lower town, and there has been no threat, he, as far as we know, has not stepped foot into the citadel–,"

"Which means he's not after you, but something to do with the lower town." Leon supplied.

"Exactly. We must find out what he so desires that could be contained there. And on that note, we must adjourn this meeting, for I have some duties that need to be completed. If there are any complications, address them to Sir Leon." Arthur said before he stood and made his way back to his chambers, not looking forward to writing the speech he would have to give on the morrow at the feast.

~•~

Merlin fell onto his bed and breathed heavily, trying to calm himself down from sprinting away from the guard. After he lost them, he teleported himself back to his home. This was getting tiring, running from sight every time he was seen doing magic. It almost made him want to stop doing it permanently.

Almost.

However, he would not have grown to become the person he was without the presence of magic in his life, so he would continue on using it without regret. His mother had always told him to embrace the gift, so he did. In Ealdor, he would use it to help his mother or complete tasks for other people. It was never a secret there, and he grew used to using it for the most menial of things. He always was looking for a way to make anything easier with the use of magic, and he almost always found one, but his knowledge on the subject was limited. Without the proper education, he would never be able to use his powers to their true potential. His mother had always stressed that fact, wanting him to find some way out of their small village, one that she felt he didn't belong.

He never told her that he felt he didn't belong there either, only that he would stay by her side as long as she needed him. Without him, his mother would live alone and be forced to do all the hard labor by herself, and he couldn't let her do that, not when she fell ill so easily. No matter how much she wanted him to leave the village and move to the city, he could not bring himself to leave her alone. However, she eventually fell fatally ill, and made him promise to her that he would move to Camelot after she passed. She left him a book of magic that had belonged to his father, one that she had kept from him, all those years. It mildly irritated him that she had hidden it from him for all those years, but it didn't change the fact that he was ready to learn all he possibly could from that book.

After her death, he moved to Camelot. It was invigorating, stepping into the city for the first time. There was so much going on at once, so many new sights and sounds he had never experienced before. It was oddly calming, the busyness of the city. He knew magic was outlawed in Camelot, but he also knew that law meant nothing to someone who knew how to hide their magic. It was simple, if no one ever saw him doing it, he could never be found out.

He quickly learned that city people were quite intrusive into the business of others. It made him have to disguise himself as he went out, and practice other magic only alone in the night, where nobody could see him. Even then, he was somehow seen by people who just so happened to be around after dark. So, he just adopted the name the people seemed to give him one day, Emrys, and went on his business. He kept himself hidden, but went to work as Merlin, and went around town as Emrys. It allowed his normal life to be unquestioned and left him able to interact with people when he wasn't acting as his alter ego.

He had even made a few friends: Gwen, a kind young woman who was the handmaiden for the Lady Morgana; Lancelot, a common man who worked up the ranks to become a trusted knight for the king; and Gwaine, a loving buffoon (but a most loyal knight to the king as well, no matter how much he enjoyed getting into fights at the tavern). Merlin had quickly grown to like his small circle of friends, and he felt like he belonged. It was much, much different than his life in Ealdor, but change was never a bad thing.

He sighed into his pillow, tired and beat from the night he had. All he'd wanted to do was go into the forest after dark and practice a bit of magic where no one could find him. After murmuring a few spells, he heard a patrol of Knights nearing him, and when they saw him, he ran through the trees to lead them away from Camelot. After he had lost them, he'd teleported himself back home and fallen into his bed.

He let sleep come as fast as it could. It seemed that it was the only thing he wasn't running from, these days.

Chapter Text

Merlin awoke the next morning dreading going to work, but rose up and out of his bed anyway. He dressed himself and ate a serving of bread and cheese to break his fast. Before he knew it, he was out of his house and making his way to the shop he worked in.

Camelot was beautiful in the morning, with the sun rising on the horizon of the citadel, and the sky painted shades of purple, orange, and blue. It would have been serene, if not for the constant hustle and bustle of the people in the city. There always seemed to be someone running off to meet someone else, to complete a job, or to get themselves somewhere. In the mornings, the scent of freshly made bread and pastries would make its way down through the entire lower town from the bakery, and it only added to the comfort that was Camelot.

Merlin greeted people as he walked through the town, as he had made quite the impression on the people since he was so kind. Gwen was also well known amongst the people, and she introduced him to everyone that she knew, as they were seen around together frequently while she wasn't working in the castle. People quickly began to recognize him and talk to him, and it was all very overwhelming in the beginning. Once he got used to it, he started to enjoy his new life, even if it did make him have to hide his magic.

He made his way to the medicinal shop he worked in and waved to the owner, Gaius, to let him know he was here before making his way to the back room to take stock. The room was a large one, covered wall to wall with shelves holding all types of products. He went through the many types of herbs and potions, making sure nothing had gone bad or been stolen overnight. After he'd finished with stock, he would have to be up in the front store to clean the floors and sell wares. It was a simple job, and though Merlin had always desired something more exciting, he was fine with doing what he had to for now in order to make a life for himself.

The day went on as smoothly as it did any other, and by early evening Gaius had left and Merlin was closing up shop after the last customer had gone. The sun was low in the sky, signaling it would be dark very soon, and after not using his magic all day, he was itching to do something with it. Trying to not look like he was about to commit a legal offense that could be punishable by death, he walked home as fast as his feet would take him; without the aid of magic, of course.

He found himself at home, and—after shutting the door—quickly flicked a finger to alight the fire, another to retrieve a pot and have it filled with water and placed on the fire, and raised his whole hand to begin the cutting of some vegetables. Letting a sigh out that felt as if it had been locked away all day, he trudged across the room and grabbed his book of magic before lying across his bed to read it. With the background sounds of water boiling and vegetables chopping, he let himself relax.

He had finished eating and was beginning to drift off when there was a bang on the door, followed by muffled voices. As it had already gone dark, he wondered what could possibly be the reason to arrive in the late evening. The door was banged on again, this time followed by a few voices.

"Open up, Royal Guard! The King of Camelot has demanded a search of the entire lower town." A stern voice yelled from the other side.

Oh, fuck. Merlin thought. If they found the book of magic he would be burned at the stake, as many like him before had been. He tensed, wondering where he could possibly hide the book so they couldn't possibly find it.

There was another bang on the door.

"If you don't let us in we will be forced to break the door down!" The voices yelled again. There were muffled sounds again, words he couldn't make out, and he feared they were onto him.

Merlin cursed under his breath before throwing his book beneath his mattress and hoping the guards would be dumb enough to not look under it. It was inevitable, though, he figured as he made his way to the door, trying not to tremble. They would enter and push him to the ground and clear out his bookshelf and go through his cupboards and somehow, he would be found out.

He tried to shake himself out the terror, but he couldn't believe it could possibly be over for him in the next few minutes. He was in his right mind to think about running, but they would just push the door down and find he wasn't here before figuring out he was a sorcerer.

"THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!" The yell made him flinch, and the following blow of a fist upon his door made him jump. He stood in front of the door and gripped the handle before pulling open the door.

"Finally, Merlin. Took you long enough, I almost started to think you were the sorcerer we were looking for." Gwaine laughed in his face with Lancelot following behind him as they lightly pushed him aside and made their way into Merlin's room, dressed in their armor and holding their swords. They made themselves comfortable in the chairs by the fire, and looked at his confused face before Gwaine began to laugh again.

"S-so you aren't searching the entire town?" Merlin asked once he found his voice. His heart was still beating like crazy after being faced with the anxiety the men's joke had caused him.

"Oh no, we are." Lancelot stated, "We just thought you might like us to stop in instead of some of the others, since we know you're nothing near being a sorcerer." He smiled and Merlin's heart soared. He was safe, for now, but that didn't change the fact that if he hadn't known Gwaine and Lancelot, they would have found his book of magic and had him thrown in the dungeons. And eventually, he would have been killed. What a comforting thought.

"So, uh... you still haven't found this sorcerer, huh?" Merlin started. He sat rigidly on the edge of his bed, looking toward them; even if they were his friends, he didn't believe them above turning him in if he was exactly who they were looking for. They hadn't known him for too long, and surely, as knights, they would be more loyal to their king than someone they had only first met a few months ago. Suddenly, the feel of the book rammed in between his straw mattress and the bed frame was frightening, as if it was beginning to haunt him.

"We haven't had any luck yet, and we never will since this sorcerer is so bloody good at covering his tracks. All the evidence we have are sightings from people saying they've seen someone doing magic—what if they're lying? Arthur hasn't even considered taking that into account–," Lancelot rammed Gwaine in the stomach with his elbow, causing him to groan. Merlin stifled a laugh.

"Don't badmouth the king while he isn't around." Lance scolded, "You shouldn't even be badmouthing he king in the first place, he'd have your head for it."

"Yeah, well, he and his self-righteous arse particularly need my head to save his so..." Gwaine trailed off. Lancelot gave him a pointed look.

"It's a wonder you've lived this long, Gwaine, freely insulting me when I'm not around. Did you know treason is punishable by death?" Merlin's throat suddenly felt constricted. The King of Camelot was standing at his door, now he was stepping into his room, then he was standing in front of Gwaine and Lancelot. Merlin gulped. The King was wearing his armor as well, showing he was apart of the search of the lower town as well. It was a blessing he hadn't come here before Gwaine and Lancelot, for if he had, Merlin knew he would have very quickly understood what death at the hand of a King felt like.

"Sire! My lord!" Gwaine jumped up and out of his seat. He bowed deeply to the king, as if it would make up for the words he had just said. The king just raised an eyebrow at him, not convinced of what Gwaine was trying to accomplish. Lancelot rolled his eyes.

"You two are meant to be going around, like the others, and conducting searches, not fraternizing with the peasants!" Arthur exclaimed. He made a vague gesture towards Merlin, as if to support his point. Lancelot stood up and pushed Gwaine to the side so he was facing the king. He took a slight bow before speaking.

"We apologize, my lord, but after we had finished conducting our search here, we decided to have a chat with our friend here, Merlin." Lancelot said, and Merlin made a mental note to thank the high priestesses of the old religion for supplying him with such a friend. He had not only trusted him and strongly believed he was not the sorcerer, but also just lied to royalty for him; two actions that were possibly punishable by death. Granted, Lancelot didn't know that Merlin actually was the sorcerer in question, but the sentiment still made Merlin feel good.

The King pointedly looked around the room, clearly seeing there was no evidence of the mess of a search in it. He stared Lancelot down, as if threatening him to lie to royalty once again, but Lancelot just stared back at him, unrelenting. Their contest seemed to go on for ages, as neither of them desired to give up. The king eventually broke it off first, and there was an inch of a smirk on Lancelot's face, knowing he had won. After that, the king looked at Merlin before taking a few steps toward him, which caused Merlin to scramble up and off of his bed and into a bow. He rose to come face to face with the King who sought after his own death.

It made his heart do unspeakable things.

The king looked him up and down, as if addressing his sense of fashion and deciding whether he could possibly cause any harm to the city, and by extension, its people. He came up empty and proceeded to take a step away from Merlin in order to glare at his knights once again. Afterward, he looked to Merlin and gave a brief nod before exiting his home and shutting the door, his bright red cape lightly flying behind him.

"What a prat." Merlin said.

Gwaine and Lancelot proceeded to laugh harder than they can recall.

Chapter Text

Arthur ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his seat. He stared at the parchments on the table in front of him, unable to concentrate on what was written on them. His mind refused to pay attention to the topic at hand and instead kept thinking about the sorcerer who was just out of his reach. After the search of the lower town last night, they had come up with absolutely nothing. There was no evidence of sorcery anywhere within Camelot, and though that should have made him glad, all it did was increase his frustration.

How could one man possibly evade the guard for so long? Magic could have been the answer, but wouldn't he have to have some evidence of his magic in his home? Did he know about the guard before they showed up, so he could hide all of his belongings? Arthur had no idea what magic could do, so he began to think of anything that Emrys could have possibly done to avoid being caught. All the possibilities made his head hurt.

There was a knock on his door, and he drew himself out of his thoughts of the sorcerer to speak.

"Enter." He said, and was greeted by five of his knights as they strolled into his chambers. Confused, he looked at them as they stood before him, but before he could ask why they were here, Leon spoke up.

"We were thinking about the search for the sorcerer, and we wondered if you would allow us to conduct secret watchmen to constantly be amongst the lower town in order to catch Emrys in his acts." He said, and Arthur raised an eyebrow. It was a very good idea, to have someone constantly down there to catch the criminal in his act. The people would be angry if they knew they were continually being watched, but what the people didn't know wouldn't hurt them. And it was being done for the safety of the people as well...

"I like this idea, Leon, I just have one request." Arthur replied. This would be his ticket to finding and being rid of this sorcerer, once and for all. He was entirely ready to take on Emrys as soon as he saw him. "I want to be the one to catch him. So I will go to the lower town, undercover and alone. There will be no knights with me."

"But sire, at least take some for extra knights in case you do encounter the sorcerer. You have no idea what type of powers he could possess." Leon tried to get Arthur to listen to him, but the king was already engrossed in thinking of his own plan. If he went down to the lower town, he could stage an event that the sorcerer would have to step in to, and then he could catch him in the act! But what kind of event would draw in a sorcerer? The king still had no idea what the man was after, and without that, he wouldn't be able to come up with an effective plan.

"No Leon, I cannot. It is my duty to find this sorcerer and I will do it on my own, I will not endanger the lives of my men." Arthur stated firmly. This was his decision, and he wouldn't turn his back on it. The sorcerer has tricked him one too many times, and he was going to catch him if it was the last thing he did. "I will start on the morrow, and my decision is final. Please escort yourselves from my chambers."

The knights left the room, but Leon stayed back to give a pleading look to Arthur, trying to convince him not to do anything stupid. Having grown up with Leon, Arthur knew the man was just trying to look out for him, but as king, it was his job to protect his people. If going alone on a search was how it had to be done, he would do it. Arthur sighed and nodded at Leon, who smiled before bowing and then leaving the room.

Arthur supposed he didn't know what he had gotten himself into.

~•~

The next morning, he found himself heavily robed and covered in a dark blue hooded cloak. It was on the edge of the beginning of winter, and Arthur knew if he didn't find this sorcerer in the next month, he would wreak havoc on Camelot for all of the winter months. The sun had come up a few hours before and it was well into the morning, which meant the lower town would be fluttering with people. The streets would be crowded and the shops would be open, which gave the sorcerer a perfect place to terrorize the citizens.

He made his way out of the castle, staying away from the guards as to not draw attention to himself. Keeping his head down, he wandered down street after street, trying to avoid contact with the peasants the best he could. He had gotten finally reached the main square when he could stop. There were crowded shops and the bakery was open, along with the open air market. The people bought and sold things from one another, and the amount of talking that went on created a sense of white noise in the background for Arthur. He had never been to the market, as when he had wanted to visit as a child, his father would always turn him down and say, "The market is no place for royalty, Arthur, only for lowly peasants." After a while, Arthur began to believe him.

Now, however, he knew that Uther had been mad during his reign, desperate for power. His father had always used tactics that Arthur never agreed with because he felt some of them were far too cruel. Sentenced to death because they were found lurking in the streets at mid night, only possibly doing something illegal? It was no wonder Arthur didn't agree. Uther had been so blinded by power he refused to see things in any other light but his own. It was maddening, at times. Though he was right about several things, of course, and Arthur had to credit him for that.

Such as his hate of sorcery. Every sorcerer found had been burned at the stake, which, as far as Arthur knew, was what they deserved. Magic could kill people with a snap of a few fingers, and no one could possibly hold power so strong without a desire to misuse it. It corrupted even the best people, and the only way to save them was to free them of their mortal bodies and hope they would find a way back to the light. Uther had always told him, magic is the reason men desire power and destruction, and if people were to have it, Camelot would end in ruins.

It was true, of course. A person with magic flowing through their veins couldn't possibly be capable of any good tasks–

Arthur had been perusing through the market, but now he was toppled over on the ground, with a man on top of him. He used his hood to cover his head as to not draw attention, but when he looked at the person who had fallen on him, he found the man looking right at his face. It was the same man he had met two nights ago, with Gwaine and Lancelot. After making eye contact, the man's face quickly turned a bright shade of red.

"My lord!" He said, and Arthur's eyes widened before he pushed the man off of him and stood, with the man following suit. He turned to leave, but his arm was grabbed and he was spun back around as the man looked back at him face. "My lo-!" He started, but Arthur stopped him by placing a hand over his mouth and swiftly pulling him into an alley, away from the peering eyes of the market goers. His hand was wrenched away from the man's mouth, and a look of disgust was placed over the man's face.

"What the hell was that for!" The man said, his eyes alighted with anger. His nostrils flared and his lower lip twitched, and Arthur wondered why his face turned red so quickly. However, what the man just said suddenly registered in his head, and he easily resumed a furious feeling as well.

"Excuse you?! You can't address me like that! I could have you beheaded for just saying those words!" Arthur supplied, thinking about how he wouldn't actually do that, of course, but when one is angry, the level of threat must always be above one's opponent.

"Oh you could, could you, my lord? All it would show is just how big of a head you have, as someone who cares about no one but themselves!" The man retorted, and Arthur thought for a split second he might actually have him beheaded, because how dare he speak that way to one who is above him!

"You will respect me and my place on the throne, whether you like it or not. And you will not insult me while I stand in front of you ever again, understood?!" Arthur took a few steps toward the man in order to have him backed up into the wall of the building. He then raised his arms up to put his hands against the wall to cage the man in. They were about the same height, so he couldn't tower over him as he'd wanted to, but having him pushed up where he couldn't escape produced the desired effect well enough. The man breathed heavily, but it seemed he was lowering from the height of his anger.

"We wouldn't even be in this mess if you hadn't pulled me into this alleyway." The man said, and pouted. Arthur noticed his lips were dry and cracked, but the edge of the man's tongue drew out of his mouth and licked his lips, making them appear even redder than they had before.

"I wouldn't have had to pull you into this alleyway if you hadn't tried to address me after you fell on top of me." Arthur retaliated, with the edge of his mouth rising into a smirk.

"I wouldn't have fallen on top of you if you hadn't been walking around aimlessly in the market. I mean, what are you even doing here? This is certainly no place for the king. And why did you freak out so bad when I tried to address you?" The man asked. He seemed genuinely curious, but Arthur couldn't possibly let him know everything that was going on.

"I'm in town for a reason, and I don't want to be discovered otherwise the people will try to get my attention and do things for me, and that is the last thing I need. Why do you think I'm trying to evade the people as much as necessary?" Arthur responded, hoping he didn't give too much away.

"So... what's this reason?" The man asked, now leisurely leaning against the wall, as if he hadn't been pushed into it unwillingly. There was a speck of a smirk on his lips.

"I can't tell you that." Arthur said, "It's strictly royal business." Their voices had gradually gotten softer as their conversation had gone on, with the anger melting and being replaced by something Arthur wouldn't be able to name for the life of him. At this point, it was impossible to even believe he couldn't hear anything but his heart beating in his chest and the low voice of the man in front of him; but it was true.

"Oh, is it now?" The man whispered, and not for the first time was Arthur drawn to the sight of his lips as they formed each word. However, their small bubble was broken in to as they heard a yell nearing the alleyway.

"Merlin!" It called, "Merlin!" It seemed to get louder as the person—a female, Arthur could tell—neared them. He looked at the man's face in front of him, drawn to the blue of his eyes; the same color as The Great Seas of Meredor when the sun was at its peak. Suddenly his face was closer to the man's than before, but before he could get any closer, the voice rang again, now upon them. He fell away from the wall and stood against the one adjacent to it, as the voice finally appeared in front of them. It was Guinevere.

"Merlin! There you are!" She said as she approached, smiling as per usual. The man—Merlin, it seemed—smiled back at her before stepping off the wall to greet her. She greeted him, but also noticed Arthur standing against the wall, who offered her a tight lipped smile. He removed his hood to greet her.

"My lord," She curtsied lightly, "May I ask what you're doing in the town today?" She asked, and Arthur shot Merlin a glance before choosing his words carefully.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Guinevere, I can't tell you that." He said, "It's strictly royal business."

He eyed Merlin with a smirk, who looked back at him with his mouth slightly agape, before pulling his hood up onto his head and strutting away.

Chapter Text

Merlin narrowed his eyes at Gwen, who gave him an innocent look back. She curled a strand of hair around her finger—something she never did—and looked at him accusingly. He sighed loudly and took his bowl of porridge with him as he sat at the table beside the fire. He picked up his spoon and shoved it in his mouth, so he could avoid talking to Gwen, who had now moved to sit across from him. She'd arrived at dawn today, practically breaking down his door in a demand to speak with him.

"Merlin," She'd said, sweetly, "How is it you know the King?" And it was fine, because Merlin just told her that Gwaine and Lancelot had come in during a search (she'd laughed when he told her Gwaine was caught in the act of verbal treason) and he had met the king then. It was a very simple request, with a very simple answer, but it didn't quench her thirst for more.

"So, Merlin, why were you and the king in an alleyway?" She'd asked, which was, again, completely fine. He'd had an answer to that as well, which was when he explained that the prat had been wandering through the market and hadn't looked where he was going, so he'd run into Merlin, who then fell on him, and after Merlin had seen he was the king, he'd tried to apologize, really, he had, but it was apparently illegal to call the king "my lord" when he was undercover. They'd argued for a bit, until Gwen had found them, after which the king had left. She'd accepted it with no trouble, but her curious mind seemed to never cease with an end to the questions.

"So why did he look at you like that when he was answering my question?" It was after she'd asked that, with an innocent smile and teasing eyes, had he shut down. He was reminded of "the incident" as he now liked to call it, and his face had a light pink hue to it in a number of seconds. He'd avoided her gaze the best he could, but her eyes were locked on him even as he moved about to make himself a bowl of porridge; almost like the eyes of a hawk as it looked upon its prey. The thought of it made him shiver.

And so, he sat at the table, shoveling spoonful after spoonful of tasteless porridge down his throat, as Gwen sat across from him, looking on as if it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. He dared a look up, and knew it was the wrong decision to make as soon as she stood and shoved her chair back, before roughly placing her hands on the table, causing it to shake. Merlin dropped his spoon into the bowl and it landed with a thunk followed by a splat. Sighing, he looked up at Gwen with bored eyes, before pushing his bowl to the side and crossing his arms on the table. She proceeded to look down at him expectantly, raising an eyebrow for good measure.

"We... shared an inside joke...?" Merlin tried, but to no avail Gwen just shook her head.

"Tell me exactly what happened. All of it." She said. Merlin could only sigh for what felt like the hundredth time before he begun the retelling of the course of events, as they happened.

"The parts I told you earlier, they were all true... but I may have left out a tiny detail?" He started, almost visibly shaking in his seat. How would Gwen react? Should he lie? She just looked at him and nodded, as if to say go on. "We were mad at each other, you see, and... he had pushed me to be up against the wall... and we exchanged a few words... but something changed? We weren't angry anymore... and that's all I know." He shrugged before rising up and out of his seat to walk across the room to retrieve his jacket and put it on. A look outside the window showed the sun was up and the sky was bright, and he was late for work.

"What do you mean, something changed, can't you tell me what that is?" Gwen asked, incredulously.

"I would if I could, but I can barely recall what was going on yesterday when it happened. Trust me, if I knew, I would tell you." Merlin said, making his way over to his door in order to open it and gesture for Gwen to leave. She sighed, before saying goodbye to him and exiting. He followed, locking the door behind him.

As he walked on to work that day, he pulled his jacket tighter around him and breathed out some air, watching it condensate right in front of him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he pondered trying to heat them with magic, but figured he would probably end up burning a hole in his clothes. Instead, he couldn't take his conversation with Gwen off his mind, because he'd basically told her everything that had happened, but he'd left out the most important detail.

The King of Camelot had almost kissed him.

~•~

After a grueling day at work,—there was an accident that involved two customers and a potion that cured foot boils—Merlin arrived home and upon his entrance, the cupboards began opening and closing viciously and several pieces of furniture floated up and off the ground. He knew it was a side affect of not using magic for a long time, and when he arrived home he had finally released his hold on it. If he didn't use the energy that had built up soon, his lack of control would bleed over into places that weren't his home. The only thing that that would achieve would be getting him arrested and burned at the stake.

He didn't even bother to eat anything before grabbing his book of magic and placing it in his bag. After using a spell to mask his facial features, he put on a dark cloak and left his home. The sun was setting, and people were still about, but as soon as it went dark, the town would be completely void of any life. He wanted to make it to the forests beyond the city walls to practice his magic, so the likelihood of being found would be low. Hopefully, the night patrols wouldn't find him.

On his way out of Camelot, he kept his head down and avoided eye contact, but he knew he may have looked a tad suspicious. However, he didn't have any other choice because if he practiced magic within the walls, someone would surely find out. Once he reached the forests a good distance from the outer walls, he fell into the center of a clearing he found and let the magic take control. When flowers grew around his body and the tree branches swayed, all he could do was let it happen. Eventually, he sat up in his new bed of flowers, drew out his book from his bag, and opened it up.

Before he went on, he summoned some wood from wherever it would come and started a fire. After feeling satisfyingly warm, he looked through the book aimlessly until he found something he could use. Raising his right hand, he created a small ball of light and let it float around him. It moved around the clearing, going as far as the trees before coming back to him and circling around him excitedly. He laughed as he watched it, and it giggled right back at him before nuzzling his face. It tickled, so it only made him laugh harder.

He played with it for a while longer, forgetting about where he was, and eventually night rose and the sun disappeared. The only sources of light were the fire, which had begun to die down, and his little ball of light, which continued to flutter around him happily. Lying back in the flora he had created earlier, he closed his eyes and basked in the serenity. He breathed it all in deeply, and released a sigh that was somewhat akin to relief. It felt like he had no worries in the world.

He started to drift off, reveling in the complete and utter happiness he was feeling. Everything was falling into place: he had a stable job, good friends, and his magic was safe; it was everything he'd ever dreamed it would be. Camelot had always seemed out of reach when he'd been younger, with magic being outlawed, but it ended up feeling like home faster than he thought it would. However, he couldn't help but think back to the interaction he'd had with the king yesterday.

What had actually happened, in that moment? It seemed as if there was no possible explanation for why the king would try to kiss him. There was no mistaking what he was about to do when it happened, because they'd been holding eye contact. Merlin had been looking into eyes that matched the color of the sky right before the sun disappeared on the horizon, a dark and solid blue, and they'd been looking right back at him. He could hardly forget the feeling of the king's arms trapping his body, or the look of his face as the anger eventually dissipated and was replaced with shy glances down to his lips. Merlin had returned those glances all the same. Dare say, he'd even begun to flirt at the end, and to this moment he hadn't an idea where the ray of confidence had come from.

No matter what had gone down, Merlin knew there was no way anything between him and the king could possibly turn into something more. He was a sorcerer, in fact, he was the sorcerer that the king was looking to kill on sight. If anything began between them, Merlin feared hiding his secret would only become more difficult and stressful than it already was. So, he vowed to himself that he would steer clear of any interactions with the king as best he could.

He hoped it wouldn't be too difficult, but he knew that was wishful thinking at its best.

Opening his eyes, he found his little ball of light bouncing up and down on his chest, trying to draw his attention. He raised an eyebrow at it, wondering what it could possibly want. Sitting up, he watched as it sped toward the trees and seemed to wait for him there, jumping up and down in the air. He stood and brushed himself off before following it, through the trees and shrubbery. It took them a while, but eventually they came to another clearing. The ball pushed at his chest to make him stay hidden in the thicket as they looked on into the clearing.

He saw a fire, but there were men surrounding it; men that wore chainmails and capes with the Pendragon crest upon them. Grabbing his ball of light and shoving it in his pocket, where it proceeded to squeak quietly, Merlin gulped.  Slowly, he took steps backward, trying to get out of the vicinity as quiet as possible. His attempt was futile as soon as he stepped on a branch that cracked under the weight of his body. Suddenly, four of the knights stood and looked in his direction, swords pulled out of their scabbards. They couldn't see him, of course, he was too far hidden by the trees, but that didn't stop them from walking toward him. Turning on a heel, he ran, not caring about the crunch of fallen leaves beneath his feet. He heard them following him, along with their voices, but all he could think about was getting back to his site, grabbing his bag, and teleporting himself home.

He took a look behind him, and they were within range, but far enough back that they wouldn't be able to reach him quick enough. Stopping, he turned around to face their oncoming, and raised both his hands. He whispered a few words beneath his breath, and his eyes flashed gold, and then there were vines grabbing at the men's feet. They kept their hold and dragged the men to the floor, who were weak against the forces pulling them down. The men slashed at the vines, but it only made more grab at them. The plants would not stop growing until Merlin reached safety, he had made sure of that.

He turned, about to break into a run, until he heard a distinct voice come over the sounds of struggling from the knights.

"I WILL FIND YOU, EMRYS, AND WHEN I DO, I WILL BE GLAD TO WATCH YOU BURN AT MY FEET."

It was, unmistakably, the voice of the King of Camelot.

Chapter Text

Ripped out from under me, again! Arthur thought. Currently, he was pacing in his chambers, furious that he had almost caught the sorcerer once again. Every single time he got close, his attempts would be flicked away by Emrys, as if Arthur was simply a pawn in his game. It drove him mad, because what would it possibly take to catch this man? If he had to raise an army from the dead, he would, if it meant he could see Emrys at his knees in front of him.

He kicked a chair to the ground, and it made him feel good, as if he was in control of the things he did in his life. Following it, he picked up the parchments on his table, ripped them up, and threw them in the air. The effect was instantaneous,—a light flutter in the pit of his stomach, similar to that of hunger—and Arthur suddenly had the desire to throw his chalice at the wall; so he did. He continued to tear apart his room piece by piece, by pulling the linens from the bed and having them scatter the floor, ripping the bed hangings from their place, throwing glass ornaments at the wall. It felt like it never had to end, he was in control and what he said would go, no matter what. He was king. He was king.

Abruptly, Arthur was pulled from his stupor by a hand on his arm, tugging him from his seething anger. He turned to look at who it was an found the concerned face of his sister, Morgana. Still angry, he tried to pull his arm away, but she wouldn't let go. It forced him to face her, and he was surprised to see her looking straight at him, rather than at the mess he had made.

"Arthur... what are you doing?" She asked, softly. She stared up at him, and Arthur couldn't refrain from looking at her eyes; the same as his. They had inherited them from their father, but otherwise it was the only physical trait they shared. While Arthur had tanned skin and golden hair, Morgana was pale with hair that could be compared to the dark of night. It was a wonder they were related at all, but all Arthur knew was that Morgana had been there for him through everything, and he wouldn't have been able to survive without her. Even if they hadn't been related by blood, he would accept her as his sister with no matter.

It was then that Arthur found himself beginning to cry, with ugly tears falling down his cheeks. He let himself be pulled into an embrace, and Morgana wrapped her arms around him as he pressed his head into her shoulder. Drawing in a shaky breath, he heard himself emit a loud sob as Morgana rubbed comforting hands up and down his back. It continued like this for an extended period of time, with Arthur sniffling at times in between. Once he had calmed down enough, he pulled away and stood on shaky legs. Morgana rested her hands on his upper arms, stroking up and down to support him.

"Now, do you want to tell me what happened?" Morgana tried. Arthur shook his head, looking down at his feet and mumbling incoherent words. Morgana sighed, "Arthur, please? I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." Arthur looked up at her again, and gave in after seeing how her eyes were slightly widened and her lips were parted. The fact that she honestly cared for him made him feel a bit better, but it wasn't enough to bring him back to normal.

"I... Emrys... can't find... frustrated..." He muttered, and Morgana looked at him with knowing eyes. He had been searching for a Emrys for months, and each time he had been so close to catching him, the sorcerer got away. It had to get someone frustrated after a while, that they couldn't accomplish a simple task. He had been working hard at this because he was passionate about it, to bring safety to his kingdom. Sorcery was dangerous, and as king, Arthur was looked up to in order to stop it. Since he hadn't been able to do it, he feared the people would lose their respect in him, that they would think he was a useless king.

"You can't capture Emrys so you're frustrated?" She asked, already sure of the answer, and Arthur just nodded before hiding his face in her shoulder again and wrapping his arms around her. The light scent of her flowery perfume had always made him feel at home, because she was always there. Morgana seemed to be the only constant in his life, and he had no idea what he would do if he lost her. His world would collapse, maybe, though he would never admit that to her.

"Arthur, you need to get a hold of yourself. You can handle this, just because he's taken longer to catch than the others doesn't mean you won't be able to do it. One measly sorcerer is no match for the big, strong king of Camelot!" She said, imitating his voice at the end, and laughed afterward. The sound was contagious, and before he knew it Arthur was crying tears of laughter with her. He stood up straight and looked at the smile on his sister's face before wiping the tear stains off his cheeks.

"Thanks, 'Gana." He sniffled, and looked at the mess that surrounded him. The room was a mess, with glass shards almost everywhere and ripped parchments and linens strewn all across the floor. For a moment, he felt bad that George would have to go through the trouble to clean the mess, but knew the young man would go through it happily, as odd as he was.

"You know what would make you feel better?" Morgana asked. Arthur looked back at her, curiously. She smirked, "Hunting?" And he smiled at her for the idea before moving to call for George. As he moved, Morgana just stepped in front of him, blocking his body from reaching the door, and he was about to open his mouth to tell her to move, but she beat him to it. "You're not going anywhere until you clean this place up." She said, trying to hide the smirk that seemed to always be on her face, and royally failing at it.

"What do you mean? I was about to call George, he'd be happy to clean this up." Arthur said, knowing it was true. His personal servant was enthusiastic about all jobs his king ever gave him, saying he was pleased to serve royalty.

"Well... about that..." Morgana started, and Arthur flared at her.

"Morgana..." He said, teeth clenched.

"You see, George had been so very frightened by your behavior, I had to give the poor boy the rest of the day off. You understand, don't you?" She said, and there was no mistaking the sound of a smile in her tone. Arthur sighed.

"It's alright, I'll call another servant." He said, once again moving to step to the side in order to pass Morgana, but she simply side-stepped along with him. He was beginning to get angry with her.

"About that, yes, well, the rest of the castle servants are busy with their own duties, so..." Arthur found himself spun around to face his disaster of a room, and he turned around as quick as he could in order to give his sister a piece of his mind, but she had disappeared.

"MORGANA!"

~•~

Somehow, Arthur had escaped the castle (without cleaning his chambers, he would just sleep in one of the many extra bedrooms until George arrived), gotten his horse saddled, and was now using his crossbow to aim at a deer. He stayed completely still, watching as it pranced around, before coming to a stop and leaning down to sniff a flower. The scene was very pretty, with the leaves falling off the trees and being blown up into the air by the wind. He heard a birdsong in the distance, and the deer did as well, as it straightened out and bounded away into the underbrush.

Arthur sighed; this was supposed to be making him feel better, but he'd found that he couldn't mercilessly kill animals as he'd used to. At some point, he'd realized they have their own individual lives as well, and he would never want to take one of them away from their families. It felt like he'd gone soft, because if he couldn't even kill a mindless animal anymore, how could he be expected to ruthlessly kill people in war? Even worse, how could he be expected to have his own men die for him, so he could live on as their king. Their king.

His knights were some of the most loyal men he'd ever met, and they had all stated, at one point or another, that they would willingly take their lives if it meant Arthur would be able to continue his legacy. The thought of death made him shiver, as it was never a concept he liked to spend an extended amount of time thinking about. If he could avoid thinking about it at all, he would be more than pleased. However, if he thought hard enough, he knew if any of his men were in danger and he had to give his life up in order to save them, he would. They deserved anything he could give them, and if that was his life in order to spare theirs, then so be it.

Thinking about sacrificing himself awoke a memory in his brain, from a few days before. He'd been insulted, by a commoner—Merlin. The sound of the young man's voice could still be heard vividly in the back of his head, "All it would show is just how big of a head you have, as someone who cares about no one but themselves!" The words still made him angry beyond repair, because how dare that commoner make assumptions about him! The thought, however, brought upon the rest of that conversation he'd had with Merlin, and Arthur felt his cheeks heat up and his heart start to quicken.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn't be getting anywhere with the hunting, so he jumped off his horse and tied it to a tree, before lying in the grass and staring up at the sky. The mid afternoon sun beamed down at him, and he laid in the warmth it provided as he let his thoughts wander.

Merlin, the boy had caused so much trouble for Arthur, and he'd only yet met him once. It would not be the last time, Arthur was sure of that, because he would not let it be. He wanted to see Merlin again, even if it meant making time in his busy schedule. He wanted to see how Merlin looked when he smiled, laughed, and cried. He wanted to be there for Merlin when he needed him. And Arthur wanted Merlin to experience all the same things with him as well.

The few shared words at the end of their conversation in the town the other day lingered in his head. Merlin had been flirting, hadn't he? And when Arthur had been looking down at his so very red lips, hadn't he been returning the glances? After, when they'd been leaning in toward each other, all Arthur wanted to do was feel every inch of him, to breathe him in, in every single possible way. It was a disappointment when Guinevere has appeared and cut off the moment, for if she hadn't, Arthur would have known what it was like to kiss the other boy's lips.

Lost in his thoughts, Arthur was only brought out of them by the sound of crunching leaves beneath a pair of feet. He immediately rose and drew his sword, on guard for whatever was disrupting him. His eyes scanned the surrounding shrubs before seeing the area that was shifting around before locking his gaze on it, ready to jump when necessary. When a person emerged, however, he had his hand up to signal Arthur to put his weapon down. He complied.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked. The man was older, with curly long hair and a light scruff on his face, wearing a stern expression. He wore robes, which Arthur immediately recognized as similar to those of the Druids, and he let his hand rest on his sword. People of magic were not to be trusted.

"Please leave your weapons out of this, I am merely here to inform you of news that you would benefit from." The man said. His hands were held in front of his body, showing he had no weapons himself, but Arthur knew magic could not be fought against with weapons. He lifted his hand from where it rested on his sheath. The man continued. "I am Iseldir. I understand that you are looking for the sorcerer Emrys?" Arthur nodded. He didn't have much to say to the man, so he just listened. "Emrys is a great and powerful sorcerer, he may just be the most powerful sorcerer that has ever lived. Your desire for his death will impact the very future you stand upon."

"What are you trying to say? That I shouldn't kill him even though he has been making my people afraid to even leave their homes?" Arthur countered. He didn't know who this man was, but he wasn't going to listen to someone who could possibly be giving him false information.

"No, King Arthur, you must simply understand that Emrys will soon prove to be the destiny of Camelot, your destiny." Iseldir said, before vanishing. Arthur looked at the space he had occupied and tried to fathom the words the man had just said, but found that he couldn't. Emrys was his destiny? What did that even mean?

He continued to ponder it, as he rode back to Camelot that evening, and concluded that it probably meant nothing, considering that man was most likely untrustworthy in what he had said. He had been a Druid, people who worshipped magic, so he would obviously want Arthur to spare the sorcerer. That's exactly what it was.

He tried not to let it nag in the back of his mind on the rest of his way home.

Chapter Text

Merlin stood on the tips of his toes so he could place a vial of potion on the top shelf. He was in the back room of the shop, refilling the stock for Gaius. After he finished this, he would have to go out to collect some herbs. As he reached to the top shelf, he heard the bell on the front door open and Gaius greet whoever was at the door. Then he heard a distinctly deep voice he knew he recognized, but didn't want to admit to knowing who it was. He stayed as still as possible, with one arm stretched up in the air as far as it would go, but he was unfocused on his tasks as he listened to the voices.

"I was told a young man by the name of Merlin was here, is that true?" Merlin heard the king's voice and immediately dropped the vial and ran into the shelves, causing everything to fall and crash onto the floor. The vile scent of the potions as they mixed on the floor made Merlin want to puke more than he already did, after knowing the king was looking for him. He had to get out of there, so the king couldn't find him. Whether it was about the almost-kiss or the fact that he'd discovered Merlin was the sorcerer he so desired to maim, an interaction with the king was the last thing Merlin wanted.

The crash had apparently alerted Gaius, who said, "Merlin? Yes, he should be in the back... Excuse me, sire, let me go check on him. I wonder what that boy has done now..." And then Gaius was opening and closing the door to the back room, and standing in front of him, was a horrified looking Merlin, covered in various potions and products, staring right back at him. There were glass shards surrounding him, all over the floor. Alarmed, Gaius asked, "What happened? And why is the king searching for you?"

"You can't tell him I'm here, Gaius, please, I can't tell you why he's looking for me but I will, just- please don't tell him I'm here. I'm going to clean this up and then get the herbs you wanted from the forest, alright?" Merlin spoke in a hushed voice, shakily. It was taking everything out of him not to break down, because he knew the king would find him at some point, whether it was today or tomorrow or any other time. He was the king, and he was used to getting what he wanted. If he wanted to find Merlin, the small country boy who'd just recently moved into the city, he could find him easily. No matter how many times Merlin avoided him, it was inevitable that the meeting would happen in the future.

However, that didn't change that Merlin was in no desire to have it occur right now. So he decided he wanted to wait out that conversation for as long as he possibly could, and if it meant running away from the source of the problem right now, then he would.

"Alright, but what should I tell him? If I tell him you've gone to fetch herbs he'll just follow you." Gaius said, and Merlin was so relieved he would have hugged the old man if he wasn't covered in various potions.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out, now go! Before he realizes I'm here!" Merlin shooed Gaius out of the room. After he shut the door, Merlin pressed his ear to it, in order to hear their voices on the other side. If the king didn't buy Gaius's excuse, he would need to make a quick getaway before he could be found. Hopefully, the prattish king would be dumb enough to accept whatever Gaius said and be on his way. As he listened in, he heard the king's voice again.

"Is he alright? Whoever is back there?" The king asked. Merlin couldn't help but snort, as if the king honestly cared about the welfare of a person he'd not even met. Even less, when that person was a peasant.

"Oh yes, he's perfectly fine, it was just a minor mishap." Gaius said, and and all Merlin could hope was that the shaky sound of his voice wouldn't carry on when he actual told the lie.

"Is it Merlin back there?" There was the sound of a few steps moving toward the door, and Merlin flinched. He went to move away from it so he could run out the back door, but he heard Gaius's voice stop the king before he could get far.

"Oh, yes, that's what you were here for. I'm sorry, sire, but Merlin isn't here at the moment, he's already left for the day." Gaius supplied, and Merlin let out a relieved sigh.

"Are you sure? I've already checked at his home, do you have any idea where else he could have gone? Please, I need to find him." Merlin was shocked that the King of Camelot had gone to his home to try and find him. Clearly, whatever the matter was, it wasn't a light one. How could the king possibly have any time in his supposedly busy schedule to come after a boy he'd met once in the market? And why was he looking for him so hard? Did that moment in the alley mean that much to him?

"Well, sire, have you um... checked the tavern? Merlin has spoke of it on several occasions." Gaius said, and Merlin facepalmed so hard he was sure they could hear the sound of his hand slapping his face through the door.

"The... tavern? Are you sure, Gaius? He doesn't seem to be the type..." The king questioned, but was just assured by Gaius that he should check there. Merlin heard the king agree reluctantly before thanking Gaius and leaving. After the door had shut, Merlin slid his back down the door and sat against with his knees pulled up to his chest. Waving a hand, he fixed all the broken vials and put the potions back in their place. Then he waved another to clean himself off. He rested the back of his head against the door, and shut his eyes to calm his breathing. The idea that the king would find him in here had made him so anxious he wondered what would happen when he was actually found. There was a knock on the door, and the vibrations made Merlin shiver.

"Merlin? Are you alright back there? The king is gone, if you want to come out." Gaius said, and Merlin stood up before turning to open the door. Gaius looked at him with a worried expression, but Merlin just stretched his lips out in a half-assed excuse for a smile before turning to grab his jacket and bag. The journey into the forest to pick up the herbs wasn't a hard one, but it did require a lot of walking. He usually teleported himself into the forest, and then went on his business from there, but he thought he could use the time to blank out his mind from what the future held.

Waving to Gaius, he left without another word through the back door. Even if the king was looking for him at the tavern, Merlin didn't want to risk a run-in in the middle of the street. He set off toward the forest, not paying attention to the loud sounds of people everywhere in town, the kids chasing each other, or the crunch of freshly fallen snow beneath his feet. The world around him was background noise, as far as he knew. His eyes stared ahead and he saw the path in front of him, but the outer parts of his vision were blurry. It was like he was in a trance, but with no objective. His feet kept moving and he steered clear of anything he could possibly run in to, but he wasn't thinking about anything at all.

Eventually, he reached the forest, where he drew out of himself just enough to pay attention to what he was looking for. However, he was still almost as mindless as he was when he had left the shop, and it didn't seem as if he wanted to be drawn out of it. He was content thinking nothing, as it helped him refrain from stressing himself too far. Finding each and every one of the herbs, he placed them in his bag before sitting against the trunk of a tree. A light dust of snow began to fall from the sky, and the feeling of it falling on his skin was lost upon him. He took deep breaths, shutting his eyes so he could feel as one with his body. The flow of magic through his veins was consistent, beating with his heart. It showed he was alive, that magic was a part of him and always would be.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking up at the King of Camelot. He jumped at the scene, and his thoughts rushed back into his head so quickly that he felt light headed. Massaging his temples, he looked up at the man that seemed to be studying him right back. It felt completely invading of all of the privacy that Merlin had acquired. All he'd wanted to do was let his mind blank out so he wouldn't have to think about his problems for a while, was that really too much to ask? Did the high priestesses have to ruin the perfectly fine walk he was having? Did they have to make it him of all people? Merlin would have been gladder if he'd been faced with an untamable beast.

The view in front of him made him so angry his magic felt as if it would rip his skin apart in order to get out of him, and that was not how he wanted to be caught. He stood, and looked at the king, who looked slightly taken aback at his seething rage, with his clenched teeth and furrowed eyebrows. He was quaking, and it took everything in him not to pummel the king to the ground.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" Merlin yelled, and the sound contained all the magic he'd needed to expel. A tree fell in the distance, the birds flew out of the adjacent trees, and small animals scurried out of the way. His entire body was shaking, but it didn't stop the king from taking a few steps toward him and placing his hands on Merlin's shoulders. The king rubbed up and down his arms, and when that wasn't enough he began to draw Merlin in to embrace him, but stopped halfway. He seemed to remember the reason the other man was angry, and a blush arose on his cheeks before he pulled away from Merlin completely. At this point, the shaking had already ceased.

The loss of warmth made Merlin desire to be held again, possibly even embraced. The idea seemed so absurd with his current company that soon enough, he cheeks were red and he was looking down at the ground. He played with the hens of his jacket, not wanting to seem interested at the sight of the man in front of him.

"I was... looking for you." The king softly stated, and Merlin sighed, before looking up at him. He stared at the face of a man he barely knew, but found him gorgeous all the same. It seemed that he was passionate enough to follow someone into the forest while it was almost the dead of winter, and Merlin had to respect him for that. However, it didn't take away from the fact that he was still against any and all forces of magic, and because of that, there was no way for it to work between them. "Gaius told me you were at the tavern, but I heard your voice while you were talking to him, so I waited for you to come out so I could follow you."

"My lord-," Merlin began, but was cut off by the king.

"Arthur. Just Arthur, please. I don't want there to be any difference in class between us. We are both just men." The king said, and Merlin took a deep breath before starting again.

"Arthur, you've disrespected me and invaded my privacy. I don't know what you could possibly want from me, but surely you could find someone else? I understand that you're the king and you're used to getting what you want, but it can't happen this time, I'm sorry." Merlin turned and began to walk through the trees to get himself away from the scene as fast as he possibly could, but Arthur's hand grabbed his wrist before he could take more than one step.

"That day," Arthur started, "In the market. I remember thinking, 'How dare this peasant talk to me like that?' but the truth is, there's never been anyone to awake a fire within me like that. There have been none but you." He continued, but first he tugged on Merlin's wrist again to get the other man to face him. Merlin found himself staring at Arthur's eyes again. "And I know that you probably can't stand the sight of me, and that I probably made up the idea that you wanted to kiss me as much as I did you on that day, but," Arthur let go of Merlin's wrist to hold his hand, and the feeling of his hand was so incredibly warm on Merlin's cold one, it felt like the comforting heat of a fire in the middle of winter. "I want to know you, if you'll let me. In whatever way you'll have me." At this, Arthur moved closer to him and grabbed his other hand as well, entwining their fingers and all Merlin could do was stare. He'd been rendered speechless. Here was the King of Camelot, admitting having feelings for him, a commoner, a sorcerer, and Merlin couldn't say anything in response. His mouth opened and closed several times before he was able to produce words.

"I... did want to." Merlin mumbled, "Kiss you, I mean." And he saw the immediate smile from Arthur, where his lips were stretched wide and his teeth were gleaming, and he couldn't help but wonder why a man as beautiful as him could possibly be interested in someone like Merlin? "But Arthur, we can't... we can't be together... It's nothing to do with you, but it's me. I can't... I'm sorry."

"Can we at least be friends, then?" Arthur said, with a hopeful tone, and Merlin had to give in to him at that point. He smiled at Arthur and nodded, and found himself taking a step closer to the other man. The look of his lips as they asked such a sincere and optimistic question, Merlin just couldn't resist, so he wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck.

"I still... want to kiss you. I don't want to make any promises in the long run, and maybe I'm being selfish, but could I? Just this once?" Merlin asked, and felt his cheeks burn up from both the cold as well as his admission. He tried to look down, but was greeted by a hand beneath his chin lifting his head up so Arthur could stare into his eyes, whisper the softest "of course," he could muster, and then place his lips on Merlin's with a light pressure. Then, he wrapped his arms around Merlin's waist and pulled him as close as he possibly could, to savor the moment up until the very end. He had no idea if there was ever to be a "next time", so he wanted to make it last as long as it possibly could.

When they pulled apart, they smiled at each other and proceeded to walk back to Camelot. It was the happiest either of them had felt in while, so neither of them wanted to leave, but when Arthur dropped Merlin off at his home, they shared a long hug before he left. They'd decided they would be friends, because Arthur didn't want to push Merlin into anything he wasn't comfortable with, and Merlin thanked him for it.

It was only after Arthur had left and the door had shut behind him did the reality of the situation dawn upon Merlin. He grabbed at his hair and pulled at it, causing a sharp pain at the base of his scalp.

"Fuck." He swore. What have I done?

Chapter Text

Ever since Arthur had kissed Merlin, he couldn't get the other man out of his mind. Whether he was in a meeting, training, taking care of affairs, or even searching for the sorcerer, he just couldn't keep the image of Merlin's gorgeous smile out of the back of his head. To make matters worse, every time he thought of it, a smile would creep itself onto Arthur's face as well. He would be sitting in a meeting at the round table, staring down at his feet so he wouldn't make eye contact, smiling like he was out of his mind. It had come to the point that his knights were concerned for him, because he wasn't acting normal anymore. They stood in front of him, Leon, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival, after a meeting had just ended, in order to find out what had happened to their beloved king.

"Sire, won't you tell us what has gone wrong? We'll fix it the best we can, and I can swear to that upon the knight's code." Leon said. He seemed nervous to find out what had happened to the king, as if Arthur had caught some horrible disease and would be dead by morning. The thought itself was absurd.

"There is nothing wrong, Leon, I promise that to you." Arthur said, and raked a hand through his hair. This intervention was wasting away his time, and he'd wanted to stop by Merlin's home after he'd gotten off from work and bring him some flowers. The thought of Merlin smiling brightly at him as he presented the flowers made Arthur want to do anything he possibly could to keep the other man as happy as possibly. He started smiling again, without knowing, and whatever Elyan was currently saying was going straight through one ear and out of the other. Placing his elbows on his desk, he rested his head on his hand and sighed wistfully. However, it seemed the knights had taken notice as Gwaine slapped Arthur across the face.

"Wake up, Princess." He said, and Arthur glared for a moment at him, but Gwaine just laughed. Arthur went back to paying attention to the men in front of him, and found some of them looking back at him in disbelief. He furrowed his eyebrows, about to ask why they were looking at him like that, but Gwaine spoke up before he could. "I told you, he's so completely and utterly besotted with someone that he can't even think straight. Isn't that right, sire?" And Arthur found himself nodding without even processing what Gwaine had said. When it hit him, however, he spoke up.

"What?! No, of course not!" Arthur tried to convince them, but the way his face turned red at the accusation denied everything he said. The knights looked at him, knowingly. After realizing Gwaine was right, they all wanted to know exactly who their king was lusting after. They had never seen him act like this before, and it was news to them that Arthur could possibly be so infatuated with someone that he wouldn't be able to pay attention during important meetings and events.

"So? Who is it?" Lancelot asked, smirking. The look on his face made Arthur wonder if he already knew it was Merlin, considering they were good friends. If Lancelot knew, then Gwaine would also know, and if Gwaine knew, the entire kingdom would find out by the next night. Arthur couldn't let that happen.

"Why don't you tell me who it is, Gwaine?" Arthur said, looking at the knight. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, trying to cover his anxiety. The idea of the entire kingdom knowing Arthur was taken with a boy from the lower town would ruin him; they would think he was weak. If they thought he was weak, they might try to overthrow him, and Arthur would be unable to fight them off, and then he would lose his kingdom.

"I would if I could, sire, but alas, it is not my place to tell." Gwaine said, and winked at him. Arthur couldn't tell by his facial expressions whether he was telling the truth or not, but to save his head, he hoped Gwaine didn't actually know and was just joking around. The rest of the knights looked at Gwaine questioningly, even Lancelot, which Arthur figured ruled him out as to knowing it was Merlin.

"Alright, alright, I get it. I'll try to keep my focus." Arthur huffed. The knights weren't satisfied, however. Leon raised an eyebrow at his king, as if challenging the idea that he really would try to pay more attention during important meetings. It seemed that the five of them didn't believe what he was saying, but they also wanted to know who it was Arthur kept drifting off to. None of them moved from their spots in Arthur's chambers, not until he was forced to shoo them away, and they all exited the room after giving him a bow.

Arthur sighed, wondering how he was going to continue to run his kingdom if he kept acting like this. His knights were right, of course, it had taken a toll on him and he may as well be ill, considering he hadn't done any important work in the past three days. There were parchments waiting to be read and affairs waiting to be taken care of. Arthur had been so into his thoughts of Merlin that he hadn't taken anything else into consideration. He was king, and he had a kingdom to run, how could he possibly have forgotten that due to some peasant boy?

And then, the image of Merlin's smiling face popped up in Arthur's head.

Ah, yes. Of course, that's why.

~•~

Merlin couldn't possibly fathom how he had gotten into this mess. He was, once again, running from a band of knights who had found him in the night. His king was among them. It seemed they'd known he was coming this time, because they'd been in the area he commonly frequented. As soon as he'd seen them, he'd ran, but not before they could throw a powdery something at him that bound his magic to his body. It seemed to have remnants of the Echinacea flower in it, because he'd know that scent anywhere. The plant would harm a sorcerer to the touch, and if it was ingested, it would painfully burn their magic away from within them, and they'd be left feeling empty and unable to continue. On the surface, the pores of the skin, when touching the flower, would take in the scent and cause the area to slightly burn. It would eventually retreat through the same way it came in, but it still gave someone hunting a sorcerer ample time to catch its prey.

Merlin was utterly terrified. After he'd been covered, he'd turned and ran as quickly as he could, but at this point he hadn't an idea where he was going. The flower powder had mucked up his senses, making him tear up, which caused his vision to blur. He looked left and right, but he was dizzy and he could hear the men on his tracks. Making the quick decision to go left, he sprinted past trees and through bushes, trying to make sure he didn't step in anything that would leave tracks.

His black cloak swished in the wind behind him, unnoticeable in the darkness that had descended upon the rise of the moon. The glow of the moon in the sky left shadows at every turn, and in his state, Merlin was unable to distinguish between what was alive and what wasn't. Even the trees seemed to make faces at him as he scurried past them as fast as he could. The sound of crickets chirping felt like it was thunder in his ears, and the shouts and footsteps of the men behind him had become muffled between his own. He hoped that he had lost them, but his hopes were in vain when the crunching of snow behind him became more distinct.

The sound startled him, and in his detached-from-his-surroundings state, he slipped and fell down the hill he had been standing atop of. He rolled down it, his head hitting rocks and his limbs scraping against them. When he reached the bottom, he groaned. He was covered in snow, and he couldn't move his right arm. Scared for his life, even being injured didn't stop him from getting up and trying to hobble away, but he didn't get too far before falling again, face first into the snow. He groaned again, rolling himself over. It was his time, he figured, and death waited for no one.

"You go that way to see if he went there, you go the other way, you two, come with me!" Merlin heard his king shout at the top of the mountain, and the shuffling of men through snow. Suddenly, there was someone looking down at him from the top of the mountain, but their face was hidden in the darkness. The person slid skillfully down the slope, with their sword in hand. Merlin shivered at the sight of the cold blade, he didn't want to die. He didn't care that death would have to wait for him, because he didn't want to die. He started tearing up as the person grew closer and closer, and used his left arm to cover himself as much as possible with his cloak. Huddling into himself, he shut his eyes and shivered in the cold.

"Merlin?" Lancelot asked, and Merlin's eyes shot open to see his friend in front of him. He shivered again and pushed himself backward with his feet and his usable arm. No, no, no. Lancelot was going to kill him! The thought made Merlin let out a sob, and at the sound, his friend only took a few steps closer and kneeled in the snow in front of him.

Merlin stared at him; Lancelot had always been handsome, with a charming smile and pretty eyes. However, he'd always felt a bit more like an older brother to Merlin than someone who was potential for a lover. The thought of lovers made him think of Arthur, and what could've been if he hadn't been born as such a vile creature. It always seemed as if his magic ruined everything for him.

"Shh, shh, Merlin, it's okay, you're okay." Lancelot tried, and held out a hand, "I'm not going to let them get to you, okay? We need to get you out of here though, and back home." He stood, and Merlin looked up at him, and not for the first time understood why he had been declared most noble of the knights. His kindness was something only seen once in a lifetime, and it was unforgettable what this man would do for those he cared for.

Merlin grabbed Lancelot's hand and let him take Merlin through the woods a bit, until they were nowhere near where the king was searching. Lancelot set him down against a tree, and kneeled in front of him again. He held Merlin's good hand in his own, and Merlin was grateful for the warmth it provided.

"Do you have a way to get out of here? With magic?" Lancelot asked, and Merlin nodded.

"B-but my magic hasn't come back yet." Merlin said, his teeth chattering.

"Have you checked?" Lancelot asked, curiously.

"Oh. Um, no, I haven't." Merlin said, and Lance released his grip on Merlin's hand just before a small flame appeared in his palm. Immediately, Merlin smiled, and Lancelot did as well.

"Alright. Get out of here, but don't think this is over. I'll come to see you tomorrow. Get your arm checked out, okay?" Lancelot said, responsible as always. Merlin nodded at him and chuckled.

"Yes, mother." And Lancelot returned the smile  just as Merlin disappeared, with wisps of magic left being the only proof that he ever was there. Sighing, he turned and moved back toward his party of knights, shouting as he reached them.

"I haven't seen anything or anyone, sire!"

~•~

The next day, Merlin laid in bed with a cold and his arm wrapped in bandages. He'd received visits from his friends, and Gaius, of course, but he hadn't yet left bed all day. They'd discovered he'd sprained his arm, and Gaius has ordered strict bed rest all day. He had also had given him a while off to get better, but he felt useless sitting at home alone, with nothing better to do than read. His time could be spent doing much more productive things.

Stuck in his thoughts, Merlin thought back to the night before with Lancelot and how he had saved him from being caught by Arthur. He still hadn't shown up today, and Merlin wondered if he actually thought Merlin was dangerous or even if he regretted his decision. If either of those instances were true, Lancelot would probably report him and then Merlin would be done for. However, he hadn't been dragged from his home–sprained elbow and all—yet, so he figured everything was probably fine. Or at least, he hoped.

A knock at the door interrupted his attempt at concentration on the book he was holding, but it hadn't been working out anyway. Shutting it, he sat up against the wall in his bed before speaking.

"Come in!" He said. The door opened and revealed Arthur, the one and only king, entering his home. The man smiled at him as he shut the door, and Merlin couldn't help but blush at him as he smiled back. Arthur came and sat in the chair that had been placed by his bed for his guests all morning, before pulling out a picnic basket and placing it on a space on the bed which Merlin wasn't occupying. Merlin gaped. Arthur opened the basket and pulled out a bunch of flowers, daisies, and handing them to Merlin, who, at this point, was smiling so hard his eyes were beginning to glisten.

"I heard you were hurt and I wanted to come and cheer you up, because I knew you'd be bored with nothing but books all day." Arthur continued to smile at him, a smile Merlin had come to know quite well. In the time since the kiss in the woods, they'd become good friends, often sharing jokes or playing pranks on the knights. When they were alone together, however, Arthur was much more tender and sweet, a difference from the stoic persona he kept on around the public. He claimed he had to, otherwise his people would think he was weak, but Merlin didn't agree. He knew the people would rejoice in a caring king, one who was always there whenever someone needed them, but Arthur would just turn his suggestions down.

"How kingly of you." Merlin said, "Coming to see me, a mere peasant." He chuckled and accepted the flowers, placing them on his bedside table. Arthur then began to take out food from the picnic basket, and Merlin swore he had never before been this happy in his life. He saw many foods he had never seen before, even though Arthur frequently snuck him things from the palace kitchens. There was even a bottle of wine, and Merlin had never tasted wine. When he did, it made him just tipsy enough to pull Arthur to sit beside him in his bed, and wrap his arms around his middle, before placing his head on his shoulder. Arthur's arm went around his back, and they continued to snuggle together as they talked, neither noticing as a few hours passed by.

They only realized, of course, when they were interrupted. Lancelot came in through the door without knocking (because he'd been told by Merlin that if he knew he was home, he was allowed to just come in) and he began to speak before he saw the pair wrapped together on Merlin's bed. He had turned to shut the door behind him.

"Now, Merlin, you better have a damn good explanation as to why-!" He started, but stopped, and his eyes almost popped out of his head at the sight of the king and Merlin in bed together. It seemed he then saw the open basket, the leftover food, the bottle of wine, and the flowers on the bedside table, in that order. His eyes immediately locked on to Merlin and he asked, teeth clenched, "Merlin, what's going on here?"

Arthur answered before Merlin could even open his mouth.

"Lancelot! Well, um, you see, I had heard Merlin was injured, so I came to see him." Arthur said. He absentmindedly tugged Merlin closer to him, as if he needed to protect the man from harm.

"Sire, may I speak with you? Alone?" Lancelot gestured for Arthur to join him across the room, to which he did. Letting go of Merlin, who released a slight whine as he still had alcohol in his system, Arthur walked over to the other side of the room and prepared himself for the worst. He looked at Lancelot as the other man spoke to him, quietly. "Am I correct to assume, sire, that Merlin is the one preventing you from completing work these past few days?"

Arthur blushed and nodded. Lancelot sighed. "You have my word that I will not speak of this to anyone, sire, you can be sure of that." Arthur grinned at him and thanked him profusely. "However, I must tell you to vacate the premises because I need to speak with Merlin."

"Alright." Arthur said, sighing. He went over to the bed and gathered his things, placing everything in the basket before leaning over to a slightly giggling Merlin and kissing his cheek. Giving one last smile, Arthur left Merlin's home and made his way toward the castle.

After Lancelot was sure he was gone, he found a cup in Merlin's cupboards, filled it with water, and forced Merlin to drink it. After it had sobered him up a little, Lancelot proceeded to pace up and down the single room before addressing the matter at hand.

"How could you be so stupid?!" He exclaimed. "Sleeping with the king when he's the one who wants to have you burned at the pyre?! You're playing with fire, Merlin!" Merlin could only flinch at his friend's tone of voice, having no words to say for himself.

"We're not sleeping together, we're just friends." Merlin tried, but Lancelot shut his statement down.

"Yes, of course. And I suppose the kiss I just witnessed was only friendly as well, wasn't it?" He said.  Merlin could only bring his knees up to his chest to hide his face in as he had no answer. Feeling the bed dip, Merlin opened his eyes to find Lancelot sitting on the edge of his bed right in front of him. The man sighed before speaking again, "Merlin, I just want you to be safe. Of course I don't want to see you die, you're one of my best friends. If I lost you, I don't know what I would do." Merlin nodded, understanding. He looked up at his friend.

"I tried to stop it, really, I did, but one thing led to another and then the King of Camelot is my best friend whose company I enjoy a little more than I should, and he returns the affections as well. I can't just break his heart, it would break mine too. Leaving Camelot isn't an option either, I already have a life here I'm very happy about." Merlin sighed and flopped down onto his bed. He just wanted to sleep, it was getting darker outside and Arthur had worn him out, followed by Lancelot demanding explanations.

Lancelot sighed. "Alright, we'll have to figure something out. You need to rest, go to sleep, okay? I'll come back when I have time." He said, before standing to move out of Merlin's room.

Merlin just nodded sleepily before shutting his eyes and drifting off.

Chapter Text

Arthur was about to fall asleep when there was a knock on his door. He lifted his head from his desk at the sound and blinked his eyes a few times to focus them. Then, he rubbed at the crusty and irritating edges of his eyes, before stretching his arms out above his head and leaning back into his seat with a yawn. His eyes fell closed again, and he sat comfortably in his chair, cushioned with the finest feathers one could have. The thoughts in his brain blacked out as he tried to make himself comfortable again.

The person at the door knocked again, only slightly louder this time. Arthur's eyes opened slowly, followed by yet another yawn, and he wondered who could possibly need something at this time of night. His subconscious came up with the idea that it could possibly be a killer, but he figured it was far too unlikely with the castle's security. He tried to wake himself a bit more by standing and walking around to the front of his desk to lean against it. Yawning again, he found it in himself somewhere to speak.

"Come." He said, and grabbed his chalice that was on top of several dozen pieces of parchments, and had left a ring stain on top of them. As he downed the cold water, his senses started coming back to him, and he heard his door open and close before steps walked toward him. Putting the chalice down, he was greeted with the sight of Lancelot in front of him. The man stood tall and portrayed an aura of confidence, as any good knight should, even when addressing their king.

Arthur refrained from flinching when he saw his knight. The fact that he had been caught by Lancelot when he was with Merlin made his stomach fill with nerves, and his heart beat quicker than it should. Would he mention it? Was he here for another reason? What if Lancelot wanted Merlin for himself, and he wanted to challenge Arthur for him? He didn't want to fight Lancelot for him, but he didn't want to give Merlin up. If only there was some way to not have to fight him...

"Sire?" Lancelot asked, now standing a few feet away from him. He seemed confused as to what Arthur had been thinking, but then his lips aligned to form a devilish smirk. "Oh, thinking about Merlin again, are we?" Which only prompted Arthur to turn red, and Lancelot chuckling at the sight. He'd never seen Arthur look so bashful or embarrassed, and the fact that Merlin could make him look like that made Lancelot think that maybe, he hadn't needed to see the king in the first place.

"Yes, Sir Lancelot?" Arthur huffed. He tried to look as casual as possible, but when he leaned back on the edge of his desk, his hand landed on a parchment. Which then caused it to slide across the smooth surface, and then Arthur was toppling over onto the floor. He laid there for a moment, after turning over onto his back, feeling the aches and pains slowly recede. Sighing, he took his knight's offered hand and stood up, mumbling about getting his servant to stack the parchments right next time.

"And I thought Merlin was clumsy, but he has nothing on that fall, sire." Lancelot snorted, but when Arthur looked at him with a glare, he shut his mouth. It didn't keep the humorous smile off his face, however.

"And I thought Gwaine was the only dim witted one around here, but it appears I was wrong." Arthur said. Lancelot faked looking taken aback, with his hand placed over his heart as he took a step back and dropped his jaw. Afterward, they burst out laughing at the action, with Arthur slapping at Lancelot's shoulder every so often. He wheezed as they laughed on, and Arthur knew that whether Lancelot had come to talk about Merlin or not, they would be fine. He would always be the equivalent to Arthur's right hand: strong, reliable, and on his side.

After they'd calmed down, Arthur had sat in his seat at his desk, and Lancelot leaned against the front of it. He was fiddling with his fingers, as if wondering how to breach the topic that was weighing them down. Arthur couldn't help but think of how heavy Lancelot must be feeling. All he wanted to do was protect his friend from harm, and being with Arthur would put him in harm's way. Arthur knew it was nothing Lancelot had against him, but it was the fact that he was king and that he was constantly in danger. He decided he would start the conversation.

"Lancelot-,"

"Arthur-," They both spoke at the same time, and after abruptly stopping, they shared a smile between them, and Arthur waved a hand to signal to Lancelot that he should begin. He then prepared himself for the start of the conversation, knowing it was about him and Merlin. Surely, the knight hadn't stumbled into his room after dark to discuss any other topic. Unless, of course, it was urgent, but if it had been, they wouldn't have shared a laugh earlier, so Arthur knew this was about his relationship with Merlin. However, he didn't know Lancelot's stance on the subject, other than that he may not be supportive of it.

Standing up straight, Lancelot took a breath before speaking. He tried to summon all of his courage, even though he knew nothing would go wrong. His king, Arthur, had always been a dear friend and would always take others' opinions into account. Even if it meant sacrificing something of his own.

"Arthur, I wanted to talk to you about Merlin." He said, and Arthur nodded and made a vague gesture with his right hand for him to continue. This, he already knew; he just wanted to get on with what the true topic was. It had begun to eat at his mind, all of the stalling, before Lancelot had finally spoken up. Now, it was almost like Arthur was suspended in mid-air, waiting to see if he would crash to the ground or be caught by welcoming arms. The thought made him slightly nauseous.

"...I was wondering about your intentions with him. He's not just another one of your flings, is he? If he is, I'm going to have to ask you to stop playing with him; he doesn't deserve that." Lancelot said, and Arthur almost breathed out a sigh of relief. He kept it in, of course, because that would be no way for a king to show his appreciation. On the inside, he was glowing and his heart was jumping because thinking about Merlin gave him heart palpitations. Arthur knew exactly how he was going to answer Lancelot, because he knew exactly what he wanted.

"No, Lancelot... He's not a fling. I want to pursue something more with him, only if he wants to, of course." He sighed thoughtfully, in a lovey-dovey sort of haze, and looked back up at Lancelot. His eyes were drawn wide and he seemed frightened, stepping backwards away from the desk. He took a few more steps, and Arthur, confused as he was, went to ask him what was wrong, hadn't he just been worried that Merlin was just a fling? But Lancelot spoke before he could ask.

"I'm sorry, sire, I must be going now. I swear on my life that I will not tell anyone what you've told me tonight." He stumbled backward for a few steps before turning and partially sprinting out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him and Arthur flinched at the sound. He couldn't help but wonder if Lancelot had run off because he'd wanted Merlin for himself, and the idea of Arthur wanted him for more than a fling had frightened him. Maybe he was going to try to win Merlin over? What would Arthur do if he won? He would be forced to wallow in the love he had for Merlin, even if the the man didn't love him back. It would be heartbreaking, but he could get over him, couldn't he?

He could only continue to wonder as he dragged himself to his bed, stripped, and wrapped himself in the sheets. If he continued to think about it for half the night before he was able to actually fall asleep, it was something he would never tell anyone else. The King of Camelot, fearing a knight that would take away someone who had already stolen his heart? It was absurd.

And yet, Arthur continued to wonder about it the following morning.

~•~

Merlin was awoken in the morning by a fuzzy feeling on his face. He tried to wipe it away, but there was nothing there, so he turned on his side in his bed and tried to fall back asleep. The tickle on his cheek case again, and Merlin groaned before opening his eyes and rolling over onto his back, before sitting up. He rubbed at his eyes to get rid of the crusty feeling, and looked up around the room. There was nothing unusual, so he figured he was just paranoid, until he felt a tiny weight on the crown of his head. Staying as still as possible, he slowly reached up toward his head to find out what was bothering him, before grabbing at whatever it was as quickly as possible and holding it in his hands. It squealed.

It was fluttering around inside his cupped hands, and he brought his arms down to rest on his legs. Immediately recognizing another sound it let out, he opened his hands and watched as his little ball of light flew out of them and hit him in the cheek. It purposefully had made itself hot, and the feeling on his skin had a slight burn, so he brought his hand up to his cheek.

"Ow!" He exclaimed, "What was that for?!" The ball only made a sound that was as similar to a grunt as it could get. Merlin humphed, before he spoke again. "Where did you come from? I could have sworn I de-spelled you last week." To which, the light proceeded to repeatedly bump into his chest, where his heart was located. It took him a few seconds to realize why it was trying to explain.

"I made you up in my sleep?!" He cried. The light made a sound that seemed too much like 'mhm' to sound like anything that could have been a negative reply. Merlin was frantic at the idea that he had created something, that he had done magic whilst asleep. It had never happened before, and nothing unnatural had occurred the night before. The fact that he had gone out to release some energy only two nights ago made him even more worried. What if it happened again and Arthur was around? What would become of him then? What if it was worse?

As if sensing his stress, the light ball nuzzled his cheek before flying up above his head and settling in his hair. The weight of it on his head was slightly comforting, and he wondered if it could actually produce some key of magic of its own. Whatever it was doing, it was helping, because his heart rate began to slow down and he was feeling better as each second went by. When he was feeling good enough to get out of bed, the light ball stayed on his head while he made himself something to eat.

There was the sound of a knock on the door, but before Merlin could search for something to cover his head with, it opened and the bowl he was holding—luckily it was empty—was overturned and being held over the top of his head. The light tried to get itself out of the confining place, which meant it was pushing at the bowl which he was trying to hold firmly on his head. When Lancelot walked in, he gave Merlin a confused look, obviously wondering about his fashion choices. Sighing in relief, the bowl was removed and the light ball buzzed around again, this time going over to Lancelot.

He backed away from it, thinking it was dangerous, but Merlin just laughed at his actions.

"It doesn't bite. Well, not unless it's mad." He chuckled, and Lancelot stood still and let it sit on his shoulder. It cuddled up on him and Merlin smiled, while Lancelot looked half-frightened and half-curious. He raised his arm to touch it, but it jumped into his hand before he could. It radiated a slight warmth, and it barely felt like anything in his hand, but just the fact that it was there was breathtaking. He could only laugh as it flew out of his hand and around the room, with Merlin laughing along with him.

Afterward, he found his focus again and looked at Merlin, whose eyes were still following the light around the room like a child's might follow something they've never seen before. His eyes were almost glowing, and he was smiling like he was the happiest he had ever been. Lancelot was reminded of how innocent Merlin was, being a village boy. He had barely experienced the pains of war, when death raged above all else. It almost made him enviable, but the heavy weight his magic held would always drag him down. Having to keep a secret so important, so critical to his life; he couldn't even imagine it.

Sighing, he sat at the table and drew Merlin's attention toward him, before gesturing to the seat across from him. He wanted to get this over with, because he knew it wasn't going to end well. After Arthur's confession that Merlin wasn't his usual fling, Lancelot had been shocked. If Merlin wanted to stay with Arthur in the long run, he would eventually be forced to give up his secret. And Lancelot didn't believe Arthur above it to have his lover, whom he felt had betrayed him for many years, burned at the stake. He did not want to be involuntarily subjected to having to watch it happen.

"You need to stop seeing Arthur." He said, and waited for the backlash of his statement.

"We're not even officially together, but even if we were, why would I ever do that?" Merlin said calmly, crossing his arms on top of the table. He was confused, to say the least, because he knew that Lancelot only wanted the best for him. Why would taking away someone that caused him happiness be better for him?

"Because... I don't want to have to see you be burned at the stake, Merlin! If he finds out about you, about your magic, he will kill you, even if he does love you!" Lancelot looked so burdened with the idea that Merlin would die, he was so concerned. The statement was sad, but the fact that Lancelot was so distressed for him; it made him realize he had made the right decision to befriend him those many months ago. However, he also knew he couldn't, he wouldn't, ruin what he had with Arthur.

"Lancelot, I'm sorry. I can't do that."

"But Merlin! You would really give your life for a few months of happiness until he somehow discovers exactly who, exactly what you are?! You're Emrys. He's been searching for you for months!"

"It seems I'm going to have to live this way, then. I'll tell him when I'm ready, and if he wants me to be burned at the stake, then I guess we'll worry about that time when it comes. I can handle myself, alright? I'm more powerful than I look."

Before Lancelot could answer, there was a knock on the door and both of their eyes widened at the sight of Merlin's little ball of light still fluttering around the room. It was impossible to conceal that it had been created with magic, so Merlin quickly said the counter-spell so it would disappear, but it didn't go anywhere. He said it again, and when it didn't work for a second time, Lancelot grabbed a bowl and placed it on top of the light, which had sat itself on the bed. When he let go, the bowl was upturned and the light zoomed around the room again.

There was another knock, followed by a voice.

"Merlin!" It was Gwaine, "Are you home? I was wondering if you wanted to do something today!" Lancelot and Merlin continued to follow the light around the room, trying to catch it whenever it was in their reach. Finally, Merlin caught it in his hand, and shoved his hand in his pocket. However, he had to continuously keep hold on in while it was in his pocket for fear of it getting away. He could feel it beginning to squirm, but he nodded to Lancelot for him to open the door; they silently agreed they would try to get him to leave as soon as possible.

"Merlin!" Gwaine said upon the opening of the door, but when he realized it was Lancelot he was looking at instead, he frowned. "What are you doing here?" He barged into the room, pushing past Lancelot until he saw Merlin standing in the middle of the room. "I wanted to have a day in the city with Merlin, just the two of us!" The sentiment was nice, really, but Merlin had his own problems to deal with.

"I'm sorry, Gwaine. I can't, not today." Merlin shook his head whilst looking at Gwaine. The light held in his fist in his pocket began to heat up. It took all of his willpower not to show a reaction to it, but it was heating fairly quickly.

"Alright, I guess. I wanted to talk to you, so could we just do it here?" Gwaine said, calmly. The light ball was beginning to burn up, and Merlin's hand could barely take it. His entire body started sweating under the heat that was being transmitted from the palm of his hand.

"Y-you know, uh... T-today's not a v-very good d-day." Merlin let out, and Lancelot looked at him worriedly. He looked, to Merlin, as if he had realized something was very much not right with where they hid the ball of the light.

"Alright, when's the next time you can-!" Gwaine began, but was interrupted as Merlin's hand was flung out from his pocket, and the ball of light that came out of it began to fly around the room. His eyes grew wide at the sight.

"OW!" Merlin screeched, gripping his peeling, reddened hand as he went to the bucket of water he kept in the kitchen and sunk his hand into it. It offered little relief, and he would probably need Gaius to check out the burns to mend them, but the feeling was still better than before. However, Gwaine was watching the light fly around the room in anger, as it sped around and hit the walls and the furniture.

"Merlin, what the hell is that?!" Gwaine exclaimed. Merlin couldn't answer, ducking his head. Lancelot went over to him and forced him to draw his hand out of the water so he could see how bad it was. Gwaine's question went unanswered. He spoke again. "Surely, you have some sort of spell to get rid of it, don't you?!" He asked, holding his arms over his head.

The pain in Merlin's hand seemed to disappear. Gwaine knew. Gwaine knew. It felt like everything was falling apart. First Lancelot, and then Gwaine, and Arthur would be next, wouldn't he? He would find out, and then they would never have the future that Merlin wanted to have, because he would be killed for being a sorcerer. The thought of it made his heart ache. There was no way for his happy future to happen; he would always be confined to the cold walls that surrounded him, walls that were littered with the word that haunted him. Sorcerer. It was all he was ever seen as, never as a friend or even a normal person. In Ealdor, his magic had been widely known due to his father's status when he had lived there, and people had even looked down upon him then. Merlin only had one good friend, Will, and he found himself missing his best friend immensely at that very moment.

Gwaine walked toward his friend while he was stuck in his mind, and put his hands on Merlin's shoulder to draw him out of whatever he was thinking. The fog in his eyes parted, and Gwaine looked straight into them before carefully choosing his words as he spoke.

"Merlin," He said, "I swear on my life, that I will not tell a single soul about you, alright?" And Merlin, with tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, smiled and nodded. By this point, the ball of light had tired itself out, and had placed itself on Merlin's shoulder, nuzzling his neck in an apology. Merlin sighed, glad that the worst was over, and then they sat at the table by the fire and Gwaine told them exactly how he had come to know that Merlin was a sorcerer.

Apparently, the night Lancelot had found him, Gwaine had been nearby enough to hear Lancelot say Merlin's name when he had come upon him. After he heard it, he went running to where they were, ready to help if need be. At first, he had thought Merlin was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he knew it couldn't be a coincidence that the sorcerer was in the forest that same night. He hid himself in the trees, so they couldn't see him, but he watched on and followed them until he saw Merlin disappear and Lancelot leave. It was then he realized that Merlin was Emrys.

And, obviously, he wouldn't even think to tell a single soul because it was Merlin, the country boy, who couldn't possibly harbor hate for anyone even if they had wronged him. So Gwaine decided he would keep his mouth shut until he had a chance to talk with him, and, lo and behold, here he was, telling them exactly what he'd seen. Merlin and Lancelot could hardly believe their ears.

And, it seemed, they wouldn't have the time to even try to comprehend the situation. There was another knock on the door, and at this point, Merlin felt as if he never wanted another visitor again. He quickly realized his light was still on his shoulder, so he—carefully—put it in his pocket and willed it to stay there, so whoever was at the door wouldn't see it. It squeaked a bit, but it otherwise didn't move and Merlin was grateful.

Gwaine went to the door to open it, and Merlin sat back in his chair to observe as Gwaine fling open the door and was met with a blushing Arthur, who was trying to look behind Gwaine to find Merlin. However, Gwaine was constantly shifting himself in the doorway so Arthur couldn't see past him. Merlin and Lancelot were snickering from inside.

"Gwaine! Move aside! I've come to see Merlin!" At that moment, the so well-behaved ball of light had extracted itself from Merlin's pocket and had begun to fly around the room again. It wasn't causing any trouble, but if Arthur saw it, Merlin would be dead where he stood. So he scrambled after it, knocking over things as he did, with Lancelot stumbling over them behind him. Unfortunately, Arthur seemed to hear the sounds that were coming from the inside, and he craned his neck even further to try and see what was going on. Gwaine, after realizing the situation, was doing an even better job of blocking Arthur from seeing the inside.

"Merlin?! Gwaine, what's going on in there?! Is that Lancelot too?!" Arthur questioned, trying to push past Gwaine to get in, but Gwaine just pushed back and shoved him to the ground. Before Arthur could get up, he shut the door behind him—concealing the sounds and what went on behind it—and pulled Arthur up before wrapping and arm around his shoulder tightly and leading him away from Merlin's home. No matter how much Arthur tried to get out of his hold, Gwaine kept on, and eventually Arthur slackened against him as Gwaine rambled on about some girl he'd met at the tavern.

Merlin, Arthur thought, I really hope you have a good explanation for this.

Chapter Text

Arthur pulled his cloak hood higher to cover his face, making sure to conceal himself as well as he possibly could. He walked quickly, eager to get to Merlin's home and invite him for a day out, considering his plans the time before had been so dreadfully ruined. Still, he didn't know what had happened that day, when Gwaine had forcefully dragged him away. Merlin had been home that day, and it seemed Lancelot was there as well, which only fed Arthur's curiosity. Lancelot had talked to him the night before, which only led him to believe that he, himself, may have said something to Lancelot that he would have told Merlin. Did Lancelot really want Merlin for himself that bad?

Shaking his head, Arthur tried to keep the idea from his head. No, he thought, Lancelot was a loyal knight, who wouldn't dare to try and take what his king sought after. He knew exactly how much Arthur cared for Merlin, so there was no way Lancelot wanted to take him for himself.

He shivered as a wind blew across his face, it was very, very cold, and he wondered if this was a good idea in the first place. Going out for a ride in such cold weather was never ideal, and the wetness of the little snow on the ground made it slippery for horses. He was set on it, though; he wanted to go out with Merlin, and see the smile on his face when he teased Arthur, see him laugh when Arthur made a fool of himself. Only he, of course, would be allowed to laugh at Arthur like that, because it made him look so painfully beautiful, Arthur just wanted to grab him by the neck and plant a kiss on those so very pink lips. And the idea that the snow might fall from the sky and litter little snowflakes in Merlin's hair and land on his dark eyelashes; he could only hope he'd be allowed to see such a sight.

Finally, he arrived at Merlin's door, and, holding his breath, he knocked. There was some shuffling on the other side, but Arthur figured Merlin was the only one home, so he sighed in relief. He didn't know what he would have done if either Lancelot and Gwaine had been around—run for his life, maybe. And he would take Merlin along with him, obviously.

The door opened and Arthur was greeted with the face he so desired to see every night. Merlin smiled brightly at him, with the corners of his eyes wrinkling and the blue of his irises gleaming as if Arthur was the sun in the sky. Merlin ushered him inside, before shutting the door behind him and pulling him in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck while Arthur's went around his waist. Merlin rested his head on Arthur's shoulder, cuddling up to him as much as possible. It made Arthur smile harder than he was before.

He's so adorable, Arthur thought. They pulled away from each other, but Merlin took Arthur's cold hands and proceeded to warm them with his.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride?" Arthur asked, hopefully. He wouldn't mind staying inside, but he wanted to go out into the forest to experience the beauty of it in the wintertime, with Merlin.

"Oh, I would love to, Arthur, but I'm afraid I don't have my own horse." Merlin replied. Arthur's heart jumped, because he had said yes, and this gave them another opportunity. Arthur wanted to take it while he could.

"It's alright, we can share mine." Arthur immediately supplied, and Merlin nodded his head with a quiet "Okay!" and went to grab his things. Arthur stood and waited as Merlin busied himself with his jacket and his winter cloak. The piece of clothing devoured him, making him look smaller and skinner than he already was, but it was the most adorable thing Arthur had ever seen. He walked over to Merlin and pulled the hood over his head, laughing when it covered his eyes. Merlin pulled it back a little so he could see and giggled. Arthur smiled at him before taking his hand and pulling him out the door.

They strolled casually through the town, as it was early evening and many people were still at work or even already at home. There weren't too many people out and about, probably also because of the cold. The snow on the ground was scattered around in lumps, having melted in some places beforehand. The two of them took turns leaving footsteps on each mound of snow they found, purposefully jumping into them and ruining their shoes. They laughed and wrapped their arms around each other, taking their steps simultaneously until they reached the edge of the city, where Arthur had kept his horse ready.

"Okay, ready?" Arthur asked, and Merlin nodded. Arthur climbed onto the horse first, and put out a hand for Merlin to grab, but Merlin just slapped it away. He took a step up and swung onto the saddle, in front of Arthur.

"I'm not a girl, Arthur." Merlin tutted. He took hold of the reins, but Arthur's arms wrapped themselves around his waist, and hugged him closer to his chest. Then, he placed his chin on Merlin's shoulder and leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"How come you're as beautiful as one, then?" And Merlin felt his entire body heat up, starting at his toes and moving up toward his head. His cheeks were already bright red from the cold, but it didn't help that he was pressed up against every inch of Arthur, with his body heat keeping Merlin warm.

"Oh shut it, Arthur." Merlin mumbled. He leaned back into the hold, savoring the heat, and his hood fell down as soon as he pulled at the reins and they started to trot along. Arthur stayed where he was, but put his hands over Merlin's on the reins as they went along.

They went leisurely through the forest, talking about anything and everything as they went along. Merlin was at peace, as happy as he could possibly be. Being alone with Arthur was like sitting in front of the fire on a cold night; he was was warm, comforting, and lovely. It was everything Merlin would ever want, but it still felt a little... off. He knew it was because he was keeping his magic a secret from the one person he wanted to tell the most, and it just made him feel guilty. There was no way Merlin would be able to keep his secret forever, but how could he possibly tell Arthur now that they were very quickly moving toward a romantic relationship? Hey Arthur, I have magic, and I love you, bye! Nope. Sadly, it wouldn't work.

He wondered if there was any way he could know how Arthur would react if he told him. Unless he found some spell to erase his memory afterward, Merlin figured there was no way to escape Arthur's wrath. He sighed, leaning back into the muscular chest behind him and laying his head on Arthur's shoulder. He closed his eyes, and let Arthur take the reins while he rested his head.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, softly. He only wanted Merlin to be happy, whether it was with him or without. He was happy for the opportunity to just hold him in his arms, but if Merlin didn't want him to, he would stop in a heartbeat.

"It's... nothing. Just a bit tired, that's all." Merlin sighed. Arthur knew it wasn't only his fatigue, but he didn't want to push. He let one hand off of the reins so he could put a hand on Merlin's side and rubbing up and down, trying to soothe him the best he could.

It seemed to work, when Merlin leaned against Arthur a bit more and sighed against his neck. He still couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that coursed through his veins, but the comfort Arthur was offering made him feel better than before. It took his mind off of his problems, and instead he was here, with Arthur, and he wanted to cherish that as long as he had it. He knew it wouldn't last forever. If there was one thing he knew about Arthur, it was that his hate of magic had been engraved into his mind since he was a young boy, and no one, not even Merlin, could possibly change that.

He opened his eyes and slowly sat up, taking the reins from Arthur, just to have him place his hands around Merlin's waist and nuzzle the side of his neck. It tickled, so Merlin giggled, and laughed harder when Arthur then poked at his side. He shook while he laughed, almost scared he was going to fall off the horse, but Arthur's other hand was there, holding him in place, keeping him safe. It made Merlin's heart warm up even in the dead of winter, surrounded by leafless, lonely trees and icy snow covering the ground.

They continued on for a little while, listening as animals scurried in and out of trees, watching the sun slowly begin to set. It was all very tranquil, and Merlin wished he could experience this type of bliss on a normal basis. Eventually, they came to a ledge that overlooked the forest for farther than the eye could see, and the sun on the horizon. The sky had turned several captivating hues of blue, purple, red, and orange, so they stopped and tied the horse so they could watch the sun disappear and the night arrive.

They sat a few feet away from the ledge, next to each other, with the sides of their bodies pressing up against each other. Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin, and Merlin rested his head on Arthur's shoulder. They were silent, the only sounds being of their breaths mingling with that of the wind and the beating of their hearts in their chests. Merlin raised a hand and placed it over the right side of Arthur's chest, and he could feel it, ba-bump, ba-bump. He could feel it over the next few seconds as its tempo rose, and he looked up at Arthur, who was already looking back at him.

"Why is it speeding up?" Merlin asked, and Arthur placed his hand over Merlin's on his chest.

"Because I'm nervous." Arthur said, as if it was as clear as day.

"Why are you nervous? It's just me, we're alone here. You have nothing to worry about." Merlin leaned over to move his hand to shoulder and stroke up and down his upper arm.

"I'm nervous because of you, Merlin. Because we're alone, and you still have the ability to drive me absolutely crazy." Arthur looked at Merlin, and Merlin looked straight back at him, at the last rays of sunlight reflecting into his eyes. Arthur was completely and utterly enchanting in the lighting, but he had always been gorgeous. Even on that first day they had met in the market, a few months ago, he had been striking in every way.

Merlin moved his hand to rest on the back of Arthur's neck, playing with his hair. He smiled brightly, and then Arthur tugged him closer and put a hand on his cheek, moving his thumb up and down against his cold skin. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Merlin's, softly at first, and then harder, because oh, how he had wanted this, for so long. Ever since he'd had his first taste, he swore he would kiss Merlin again and again, until Merlin didn't want him to anymore. He hoped Merlin would never grow sick of his kisses, because Arthur was sure as hell would never grow tired of kissing him.

Their lips pressed together over and over again, fervently. Merlin wrapped both his arms around Arthur's neck and slid into his lap, not removing his lips once. Arthur placed his hands on Merlin's waist and squeezed, making him gasp so he could push his tongue into the other's mouth. Arthur stroked at Merlin's tongue with his own, drawing it out and making him let out a throaty moan. The sound only fueled him to grip Merlin's hips a little harder, and then put his hands under Merlin's shirt, to touch the warm skin. The feel of it made Merlin shiver, because Arthur's hands were freezing in the cold. He liked it, though, because it was the embodiment of everything that was Arthur.

They pulled away from each other, and Merlin's face had gone bright red. Arthur looked at him adoringly, unable to stop himself from pecking Merlin on the lips. It only made Merlin smile and blush even harder than before. The sun had set while they had been enticed with one another, so they stared into each others' eyes in the shimmery light of the moon and smiled like idiots in love.

"We should... get back." Arthur said, longingly. He only desired to stay with Merlin as long as he possibly could. It was inevitable that they would have to leave, and then return to their daily lives, where Arthur would be the king and Merlin would be a mere peasant. However, no matter their social status, Arthur was determined to pursue a relationship with Merlin.

"Alright... But Arthur, we need to talk about... us. Why don't we go back to my place?" Merlin proposed, and Arthur sighed but nodded, knowing he wasn't going to be looking forward to the talk they were going to have. Merlin moved off of his lap and stood, holding out a hand, which Arthur proceeded to take before pulling himself off the ground. They made their way back to the horse, and rode back to the city without a word between them.

~•~

To say that Merlin was nervous for the talk would have been an understatement. He wasn't planning on telling Arthur about his magic, no, but it still made him anxious that he was going to have to discuss the nature of their relationship... and that he had to end it where it was. Lance was right, wasn't he? There was no way he could possibly have a serious relationship with Arthur because he was who he was. Merlin was Emrys. Arthur was the King. It could never possibly work out, because there would always be something Merlin would have to hide, and Arthur would find out eventually.

Arthur could even possibly be considered more nervous than Merlin. He had no idea what their talk would entail, but he knew there was no way it could be anything good. The last time he had kissed Merlin, he'd been told they couldn't be together, even if they both wanted it. He still hadn't an idea why Merlin was so against the idea of being together. Was it because they were from different classes? Because Arthur had already told him he didn't care about that. Did it have something to do with the reason Gwaine had refused him from talking to Merlin last week?

When they finally arrived at Merlin's home, Merlin opened the door and lead Arthur inside, before immediately going over to the fire and lighting it by hand. Then, he lit a few candles around the room to provide some light before pulling Arthur toward his bed. He sat, and Arthur sat next to him, and they were silent for a few minutes. They had barely even said a few words on the ride back, and Merlin was worried that he may have ruined their whole relationship. The air was tense, and neither of them knew how to break through it. They weren't even touching, even though they were sitting next to each other. There was enough distance between them to fit another person.

"Merlin... Why did Gwaine not let me in last week? I know you were home, I could hear your voice and Lancelot's." Arthur asked, and Merlin almost froze. He didn't have the time to come up with an elaborate explanation for why Gwaine had kicked him out, and Merlin had no idea what to say.

After they'd caught the light that day, Merlin had de-spelled it using all his anger. He was mad he didn't get to see Arthur, but Lancelot assured him it was a good thing, because otherwise they never would have gotten rid of the light. However, he still didn't have a good reason why Arthur had had to be escorted away from his home, and Merlin was left with an open mouth but no words to follow it.

"I should've known... I know exactly why you didn't let me in that day..." Arthur said, trailing off. Merlin was afraid that Arthur knew he was a sorcerer and was going to proceed to kill him.

"You do?" Merlin squeaked. He was terrified, how did Arthur find out?

"Of course I do. First, Lancelot barges into my chambers in the midst of the night, asking me about whether what I feel for you is real, and then he basically runs away from me when I tell him that it is, very much so, real. The next morning, I show up at your home and you and Lancelot are the only two inside?! He's trying to take you away from me!" Arthur stood. "And I thought he was the most loyal of my men! I'll give him a piece of my mind!" Merlin was so flabbergasted at how Arthur was acting, he started laughing because it wasn't anywhere near the truth. He stood up and pulled Arthur into a hug, running a hand through his hair while he continued to laugh at the absurd conclusion Arthur had come to.

He pulled away to speak.

"Arthur, Lancelot isn't trying to steal me away from you, he's not even remotely interested in me. Have you seen the way he looks at Gwen?" Merlin said, trying to talk some sense into Arthur. Now that they'd past what was keeping Arthur so tense, Merlin could get to the main issue.

"Oh. Then why was he here with you that day?" Arthur asked.

"Because... because he was trying to talk me out of going further into a relationship with you, he thinks it won't be good for me."

"Not good for you?! Why wouldn't I be good for you?! Are you sure he's not trying to fight for your affections?"

"Yes, Arthur, I'm sure. He's just worried that I won't be able to handle everything that comes with being the King's lover. I've only lived here for a few months yet. If it gets out to the public then I will be hounded more than even you." Merlin said, grateful that he'd been able to come up with a lie that wasn't entirely false.

"I guess... he's right." Arthur said, sighing. "If you do not desire to take our relationship further than just friends, I will understand." He'd given up. He only wanted Merlin to be happy, and if not being in a relationship was what it took, then he would do it.

"Arthur I... I really, really like you." Merlin said. "And I don't care what Lancelot says. I want to be with you. We'll just have to take extra care to hide it from the public." He was taking a risk. A big, gigantic, risk. Lancelot was going to be mad at him for disobeying everything he'd said, but Merlin liked Arthur too much to care. If his magic was found out, he would be killed—by the man he so adored, no less—and yet, he was excited to see where their relationship would go, now that he'd let it run wild.

"Are you sure? I don't want to push you into anything." Arthur asked, as he pulled Merlin toward him by the waist, and nuzzled at his cheek.

"I'm sure." And as soon as Merlin had uttered those words, Arthur pulled him in and planted his lips on Merlin's. They moved their lips together passionately, tugging at each others' clothes to try and be as close as possible. Hands ran through hair and over shirts and the cloaks were tugged off and all Merlin could think of was hot hot hot, and there was magic flowing through him, and Arthur Arthur Arthur, and all Merlin wanted to do was pull him over to his bed so they could continue. However, he realized how his magic was building up, just waiting to explode, so he pulled away and looked down at the ground to shield his eyes and will himself to calm down. He took deep breaths, willing his heart to slow and hoping the magic went with it.

"I admit... I may have gotten a bit ahead of myself there. We should take this slower, okay?" Arthur said, sweetly, and Merlin could only pull him into a hug because he was being so nice, so understanding, when it hadn't even been the reason he'd had to pull away in the first place. The hug also let him hide his face in Arthur's shoulder, which meant also being able to hide his eyes. Arms put themselves around around Merlin's waist, and he sighed. His heartbeat slowed back to normal as they stood there, entangled in each others' arms. It was comforting, because he'd just found out something that he'd never known about himself.

Merlin was not going to be able to keep his secret for long.

Chapter Text

Merlin tried to cuddle up to Arthur more than he already was. They were sitting in his bed, just enjoying each other's presence for the afternoon, and it was the most calming thing Merlin had experienced in a while. He didn't have to worry about anything, and being with Arthur allowed him to forget about the outside world for a bit. Arthur had his arms wrapped around him lazily and his head on Merlin's shoulder, falling asleep. Merlin, however, was reading a book and trying to stick the memory of how adorable Arthur looked into the back of his head.

They'd been "courting" (as if they could really call it that) officially for a few weeks now, and Merlin thought it felt like the best few weeks of his life. He was probably exaggerating, but it definitely felt like he was in love. Since all it had taken them to build up to the point they were at, he thought it was most certainly plausible that he could consider himself in love with Arthur. After what happened that first night, Merlin had refrained from going further with him than kissing, no matter how much he wanted to. There was no way he'd be able to control what would happen to his magic if he'd tried.

He knew he would have to address it somehow, either find a way to control his magic when they finally had sex, or reveal himself. The first option seemed to be the better one, even if it was impossible. Merlin didn't want to tell Arthur if he didn't have to, but it also made him feel guilty for lying. However, if he didn't lie, his secret would be out in the open and he had no idea how Arthur would react to it. He knew the other man cared for him, but he didn't know how far it went. Would he willingly keep a sorcerer around, or would he sentence Merlin to death for lying to him?

As Merlin was thinking, Arthur opened his eyes and let out a groan. He pulled Merlin down to lie next to him and then opened his eyes and smiled at the face in front of him. Tugging Merlin closer to him, Arthur planted a kiss on his forehead, and then on his nose, only to follow with one on his lips. Merlin kissed back eagerly, loving how Arthur was always so gentle and caring.

"You're awfully affectionate today." Merlin said after they'd pulled apart, smiling. Arthur could only grin brightly back at him before rolling on his back and taking Merlin with him, so he was laying his head on Arthur's chest. His arm stroked up and down Merlin's back, sometimes moving up to his hair and raking through it.

"Merlin," Arthur sighed wistfully, "I think-," But he couldn't finish his phrase because there was a very hard bang on Merlin's door, making both of them jump. Before either of them could move fast enough to get it, it swung open and revealed three very sweaty and tired knights. Gwaine, Lancelot, and Leon entered the room, As soon as the three of them saw Merlin and Arthur's position, they all had very different facial expressions.

Gwaine was smirking, Lancelot was glaring at Merlin, and Leon just looked very, very confused. However, they didn't have the time to make sense of what they saw, as they shook themselves out of their daze, and Leon spoke.

"Sire," He began, breathing heavily, as if he'd just chased after bandits in the forest, and then had had to fight them. It looked like he'd been to hell and back, they all did. Gwaine looked like he was going to fall over at any moment, so he held onto the table to steady himself. His legs were wobbly, and he was trying to control his breathing, to regulate it again. Lancelot had proceeded to sit by the fire, relieving his cold fingers from the cold they'd witnessed outside. His armor of his sword arm looked as if it had been sliced through, leaving a hole for the cold air to get straight through to his skin. It left him freezing.

As Leon spoke his next words, both Gwaine and Lancelot looked straight at Merlin, for they knew that reality was separate from what Leon was saying. It was all they could do to try and plead with him mentally to not give himself away in his haste to do something in order to save whoever it was that was being framed.

"We've found Emrys."

~•~

Merlin had followed Arthur down to the castle, hiding behind a cloak and placing a spell on himself so he would go unnoticed by anyone. Whoever it was, whether it was a sorcerer or not, was not Emrys. And even if they were a sorcerer, Merlin would do everything in his power to make sure they were not killed, because no one deserved that horrible fate. He walked only a few feet away from Arthur, trailing behind him while the knights were around him. They talked in low voices, with Leon informing Arthur of exactly what had happened.

"...in the forest... a Druid boy... causing trouble..." It was only bits and pieces Merlin could pick up, but it was enough for him to understand that he needed to get the boy out. They walked into the castle and he let out the breath he'd been holding in; earlier he had thought they would catch him before he got in. Gwaine turned around, and it felt as though he looked right into Merlin's eyes before looking forward again. After that, they began to walk toward the dungeons, and he walked after them as silently as possible, to avoid any confrontations.

The four of them, followed by Merlin, arrived at a cell in one of the deepest part of the dungeons, reserved for those whom the king deemed unfit to even be jailed amongst others. There was no one around, and the boy was chained in a cell that had nothing but the stone ground. The cell was as bare as it could possibly be, without a cot nor a window, only the flames on the outside of the cell that provided light. On the inside, it was shadowy and dark; a figure sat against the wall parallel to the barred door. He slightly moved his hands and the chains clinked as he groaned in aching pain. 

Merlin was afraid of what could possibly happen to him if he was ever found out. Thinking of it happening made his palms sweat and his throat to dry, but he could only look on worriedly as his love looked on to someone no different from himself, wishing to kill on sight. Merlin knew exactly how Arthur looked when he was angry. He would be breathing so heavily his breaths would overtake his entire body, then his fists would clench, the veins in his arms would stand out, and his forehead would break a sweat; looking at him while he saw the Druid boy against the opposite wall, Merlin knew he was furious.

It didn't take him long to find his voice and proceed to speak. However, it highly contrasted with how he looked, because he spoke in even tones and his voice didn't waver even slightly.

"Emrys. I've finally found you." Arthur began, looking down at the pale boy who sat against the wall. The boy raised his head, and focused his eyes on Arthur, but it seemed whatever he had tried to attempt was in vain. His body shook in pain, and his limbs flailed around as far as they could possibly go. He managed to drag himself to the bars of the cell, and looked up at Arthur in disgust. The king only smirked, before crouching down to look him straight in the eyes. "Magic-confining chains. Useful when catching illegal sorcerers, no?"

The boy struggled to try and reach past the bars, but could not because the chains had cuffed him to only so much distance. They weighed him down, and it seemed to Merlin as if each time he tried to move a single muscle it felt like he was lifting the weight of the entire world. Instead of trying again, he just looked at Arthur.

"I'm not Emrys." He said. Arthur chuckled.

"Sure you're not." Arthur began. "If you're not Emrys, who are you?" He asked the question with a sarcastic tone, completely disbelieving of what the Druid boy had said.

"I'm Mordred. You have no idea who Emrys is, what he's capable of. He's the most powerful sorcerer alive. You'll never be able to capture him." And this, was news to Merlin, because what? Most powerful sorcerer alive? There was no possible way.

Arthur, however, had taken the news in an entirely different way. His blood was boiling beneath his skin, and his face had gone red with fury, as he grabbed the front of the boy's cloak and pulled him against the bars. It stretched his arms back in the chains, and Merlin could only hope the crack he had heard because of it wasn't a broken bone. The scream the boy released revealed otherwise. Arthur flung him out of his grasp and he whimpered before backing up into his cell.

"Well, Mordred. Whether you're Emrys or not, you'll be dead by this time tomorrow. Enjoy the last few hours of your meaningless life." Arthur spat, before retreating through the dungeons with his knights. After Merlin could no longer hear the steps, he removed the spell from himself and took a few steps toward Mordred's cell. The sound made him look up, and as soon as he saw Merlin he gasped. He struggled to move forward but could not due to the injury to his arms. The chains ache on his wrists and were heavy on his body.

"It's you. It's you." He said, gaping up at Merlin. "Emrys." He whispered, as soft as possible. After his initial shock, he calmed himself down and spoke again. "What are you doing? You know they want you dead. Camelot isn't safe for you."

"How do you know who I am?" Merlin asked. He hadn't even stated his name, nor why he'd come.

"We—the Druids—have known about you for centuries, it is said you'll bring light to the dark abyss that has come upon the five kingdoms and peace to Albion. You are the most powerful warlock to ever live, it is my honor to even be in your presence. I apologize that I am not in the condition to show you how far my respect goes." Mordred bowed his head at Merlin, trying to show his loyalty. It felt a bit too far to Merlin, but when Mordred looked up with stars in his eyes, he knew there was no possible way he wasn't telling the truth. Or, at least, what he believed to be the truth.

"Alright." Merlin said, and decided to get to the point. "Mordred, I am going to get you out of here, and beyond the walls of Camelot."

"I could never wish that you would do that for me, but I should assure you it isn't necessary. I am by no means important."

"Mordred, you are far more important than you think. Don't you have family, friends? They will already be missing you. Please just allow me to help you." And after he said that, Mordred acquiesced with a silent nod. Merlin opened the cell door with his magic, and took steps toward Mordred before leaning down to touch the iron shackles. As soon as his skin fell upon the rough metal, it felt as if it was burning him from the inside out. The feeling made him immediately let go of the metal and fall backward onto the stone. "Wow," he grumbled, "That's powerful." Mordred raised an eyebrow at him.

Suddenly, they heard steps coming from down the hall, and Merlin and Mordred both widened their eyes at each other, and Merlin quickly said the spell to making himself hidden and stayed in the dark corner of the cell. Mordred resumed looking as he did before he'd been provided with the idea that he was going to survive.

It was Gwaine. Sighing, Merlin made himself reappear, and as soon as he did, he was faced with a very stern looking Gwaine in front of him.

"Merlin."

"Gwaine." Merlin gave his friend a close-mouthed smile. In return, his friend sighed.

"What are you doing here? You're lucky the king sent me to find you instead of Lancelot, he would have had your head after seeing you with Arthur earlier."

"He's going to have my head anyway." Merlin sighed. "I need to get Mordred out of here. Will you help me?" Throughout all of their conversation, Mordred had been watching on silently, wondering why the knight who had just arrived with the king had come again and was speaking with Emrys is such a casual tone. It seemed that they felt comfortable around each other, so maybe the knight could be trusted?

"Of course I'll help, Merlin. What do you take me as?" Gwaine said, "How do you want me to help?"

"We need the key to his shackles, and for you to open them after we get them. Do you know where they are?"

"Arthur keeps his keys on him all the time. Even at night, he doesn't keep them out of arm's distance. There's no way I'd be able to get them without raising suspicion." Gwaine said.

"No, of course not... I, on the other hand... I could get the keys. Could you meet me back here around mid-night?"

~•~

"And you wanted me here, why, exactly?" Arthur asked as soon as Merlin welcomed him in. Merlin sighed before reaching and wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist

"I just... didn't want to be alone tonight, is all." Merlin said, once he drew away. He looked at Arthur from under his dark eyelashes and pouted his lip just the tiniest bit, to make himself seem as the lonely young boy he'd wanted to seem like. Immediately, Arthur gave in, because he could never say no to Merlin. Grabbing his hand, Arthur pulled Merlin over to the bed, pulling their shirts off as they went, and embracing each other under the covers. Arthur then took his key ring from his belt loop and placed them beneath the pillow.

"You know, if anyone finds out I'm not in my bed in the morning, they'll assume the worst." Arthur whispered into Merlin's ear, before tugging him closer and mouthing at his neck. He pressed his body against Merlin's side, with an arm wrapped around his torso, and placed soft kisses on his neck. He heard a whimper come from Merlin, so he nuzzled into his neck and shut his eyes, willing sleep to come.

Merlin, on the other hand, patiently waited for Arthur to fall asleep, so he could put his plan into action. He was going to save Mordred from the dungeons, and take him back to wherever he needed to go. The idea was an easy one; release Mordred from the shackles and teleport him out of Camelot, and then continue on foot to their destination. However, Merlin felt it wasn't going to be as simple as he thought it was.

After he was sure his king was fast asleep, he carefully reached underneath the pillow and grabbed ahold of the keys. He pulled them out and got out of the bed slowly, making sure Arthur didn't wake up while he did. Once he was standing away from the edge of the bed, he hoped Gwaine would be in the dungeons already as he teleported himself to the dungeons.

~•~

When he arrived, he saw Mordred jump at his sudden appearance, before letting out a groan at the movement. His chains clinked against each other, which only made him release another groan, as if it amplified the pain. Gwaine was sitting beside him in the cell, and had been considerably less startled at Merlin's arrival. He entered the cell and passed the key ring to Gwaine so he could release Mordred's shackles.

"Emrys... you have the ability to transport yourself at will, using magic?" Mordred asked, in complete awe of the sorcerer in from of him, as Gwaine began to test keys on the chains. Merlin tilted his head at the boy, because didn't all magic users know how to teleport? It had been something he had accidentally discovered how to do when he had been younger; one day, it was very hot out, and he'd wished to go to the lake located in forest outside of Ealdor. His mother had declined him, as she was very busy that day and couldn't take him. He'd been disappointed, and had lied on his cot that night, thinking of the lake and its blue, glistening water. The coolness of it, how it would look when the moonlight shined on the surface. It was then he found himself lying in the grass beside the lake, and for a short amount of time he'd been afraid, but then he fully embraced what had happened and jumped into the lake.

"Yes? Is it not something all magic users are capable of?" Merlin asked, curiously. Mordred shook his head excitedly.

"No, our elders have told us only the most powerful are able to move their bodies across long distances at will. Only the most practiced of my people are capable of it, and my camp has no one with the ability. I am continually honored to be in the presence of such a sorcerer as you, Emrys." Mordred said, with a tint of red on his cheeks. Merlin had no idea what to say. If what he was saying was true, did that really mean he was the most powerful sorcerer alive?

Gwaine tugged at the chains after fiddling with the keys, and they came apart off of Mordred's wrists. He immediately smiled at the feeling, because he could feel the magic flowing through his veins again, not being held back by the iron chains. The energy ran through his body and he immediately stood up and thanked Gwaine, who smiled at him in response before turning to Merlin. He handed the key ring back onto him.

"So, what's your plan?" He asked, and Merlin walked over to Mordred and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to get him out of here and back home, your work is done. Thanks for your help, Gwaine, it means a lot." Merlin said, smiling at his friend before gripping onto Mordred's arm. He told Mordred to hold on, and then disappeared into thin air, with nothing but the light of the torches on the walls illuminating their exit. Gwaine could only hope Merlin wouldn't do anything stupid that would endanger him or Mordred.

~•~

They arrived in a clearing just outside the walls of Camelot, and Mordred gaped at Merlin openly. He could hardly believe that he had just experienced the feeling of teleportation. He was curious, so he asked Merlin how he did it as they quietly walked through the darkness of the forest. Mordred knew the way to his camp, so he led Merlin through the trees toward it.

Throughout the entire journey, Merlin was anxious of the knights that would be on patrol at night. He couldn't help but feel like there was something that would go horribly wrong, and as Mordred chattered on, he kept glancing to either side of him. It felt like something or someone was going to jump out at him, and as they went farther on into the depths of the forest, the feeling only intensified. By the time they reached the outskirts of the camp, all Merlin wanted to do was go home. If Arthur had woken up... it was another problem in its entirety.

"Alright, Mordred. I should be heading back now-," He started, but Mordred grabbed his wrist and looked at him.

"No, no you must come into the camp and meet the chiefs. They will not allow me to go on if they come to know that the great Emrys has saved my life and I have not brought him to meet them." Mordred said, pleadingly. Merlin knew there was no way he could possibly get out of the customs of the Druids, so he nodded and they entered the camp. He immediately noticed there were no torches, but instead lamps filled with orbs of light. However, they were nothing like the ball of light he had created before, as they didn't seem to be alive in any sense. There were two hooded figures surrounding a fire in the center of the camp, speaking in low voices. The rest of the camp was quiet, and most of the people must have been asleep.

At the sound of their steps, the figures turned around, and stood up in order to greet them when they reached the center of the camp.

"Mordred!" One of the men said, exasperatedly. "Where have you been?!" But when he saw Merlin, he immediately stopped. "Emrys?!" He wondered aloud, and Merlin nodded in response. The two men bowed to him, and he felt a blush on his cheeks because he'd never had someone bow to him before. It was weird, he decided, and he would avoid it whenever he possibly could.

"Please, that's not necessary." He said, shyly. "I only helped Mordred, there is no reason for this."

"Oh but we must, Emrys, you are going to be our savior, the savior of magic in the five kingdoms. We have known your destiny for centuries." The other man said, after rising from his bow. He smiled brightly at Merlin, looking as if he had just found the answer to all of his problems. Which, in a sense, he had, because the banning of magic had kept the Druids unsafe to live as they pleased. They were not allowed to live in Camelot, as they were considered sworn enemies of the king.

"Oh..." Merlin had no words, because he still didn't believe that he was the great sorcerer that they said he was. He was a boy from Ealdor, a small village nobody ever knew about, how could he possibly have the destiny they claimed he had? It made him wonder if his mother knew anything to do with this, since she was the one who had known his father. His mother has magic-less, which meant his father must have been powerful in order to pass the power onto Merlin. He drew himself back to the men in front of him, and thanked them.

They sat him down by the fire with them and began to speak of things he had never even heard of. The things they could do with magic, it was something Merlin had no idea about. He contributed to their conversation, explaining how he teleported and even providing a demonstration. They were astounded by it, and he was astonished by everything they were telling him. It felt so amazing to have people he could talk about his magic to, people who would understand. They taught him some tricks, which he picked up very easily, so they went on teaching him more and more.

Eventually, Merlin realized how much time had passed, and that he needed to get back home before the sun rose and Arthur woke up. He thanked the men,—whom he now knew as Iseldir and Aglain—promising them he would return soon. Then, he exited the camp and made his way back toward Camelot, until he was at a close enough distance to teleport to his home.

When he reached home, he saw Arthur sleeping peacefully, and let out a relieved sigh. He'd had half a mind to drug his king before he went out, but had decided against it. If Arthur awoke and realized he'd been drugged, it would have given him even more trouble than if he were to wake in the middle of the night to see Merlin gone. He would have been able to come up with a better excuse for the latter.

Merlin slid into his bed, wrapping Arthur's arm around him. He placed the keys underneath the pillow, as they had been before, and as the sun was about to peek out on the horizon, he finally found sleep.

~•~

Arthur awoke right before the break of dawn, desiring to stay in bed and be with Merlin, no matter if he had to return to his palace. However, he knew he had to handle his duties as a king, so he stepped out of bed and reached for his shirt before putting it on. He stretched out his arms above his head and yawned, and then leaned over the bed to press a kiss to Merlin's forehead. After finding his keys beneath the pillow and attaching them to the belt loop of his pants, he left Merlin's home and walked toward the castle.

When he arrived, he was immediately found by Sir Leon, who looked at him with wide eyes as he quickly walked toward him.

"Sire!" He said, "The sorcerer has escaped!" And then Arthur was just as frantic as he was, unable to comprehend how exactly Mordred had gotten out.

"How?! How could he have possibly gotten out of those shackles?! They were magic-proof!"

"I haven't an idea, Sire. Maybe he had help?" Leon suggested, and it was then that it clicked for Arthur.

"No," He mumbled, "No, there's no way." He looked up at Leon, who was giving him a concerned look. "There's only one explanation. He must have been telling the truth last night, that Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer that has ever lived. He must have had help from Emrys to escape." Arthur gulped.

If what the Druid boy had said was true,—which Arthur believed it was—then Camelot was in an immense amount of danger.

And Arthur had no idea how to handle it.

Chapter Text

"We need to have more knights covering the citadel at all times. We have no idea when Emrys will strike." Arthur addressed the Round Table, and his knights looked back at him, attentive. Their king had called an emergency meeting after they'd discovered Mordred, the prisoner, had disappeared. No one had seen him, and it was as if he'd vanished in thin air. Arthur had thought himself to be the problem; if he hadn't decided to spend the night with Merlin, then maybe the entire ordeal could have been avoided. However, he'd given in to his impulses and done exactly what Merlin had asked him to, knowing he would never be able to say no to his smiling face.

"But Sire," Gwaine began, "How are we even sure that he will strike? He's been avoiding us for so long, what's to say he won't continue?" And Arthur could only sigh.

"When he helped Mordred escape, he declared war. Even if he doesn't strike soon, it will not hurt us to up our defenses for when he does. A sorcerer cannot live in Camelot for long without being discovered." He stated, knowing it had already been many months since the sorcerer had made his presence known, and also many months Arthur himself had been trying to capture him. It felt like it was time for him to strengthen his arsenal; to show the sorcerer he would not be backing down.

Gwaine stared at the king, wishing he could just grab the sides of his head and shake him until he understood. If only Arthur knew Merlin was Emrys, wouldn't all their problems be solved? He was very clearly infatuated with the boy, which made Gwaine believe he might be able to overcome his prejudices and realize that magic was not an enemy of the court. In all the places he'd been before he had arrived in Camelot to stay, Gwaine had met numbers of people—though some wished for his death—and many of them had been sorcerers. Magic was something to be harnessed and used for the betterment of life, even if some horrible people used it for death and destruction, it could also be used to protect and nurture. Why couldn't Arthur understand that?

Lancelot, however, stared at their king slightly detesting him. If Merlin hadn't fallen under his charms in the first place, they wouldn't have been in this mess. He knew his king was kind when his stoic persona was looked past, but it didn't change the fact that his opinions on the use of magic were hard lined. No one would be able to drive past the force that had made Arthur hate magic as much as he did. It was something he had grown up with, when his father ingrained it into his mind since he had been born. Habits were never broken so easily.

"...And so, we will have more guards surrounding the citadel during the night, when the sorcerer would think we are the most vulnerable. By doing this, we minimize his probability of getting past us." Arthur said, looking around the table to see most, if not all, of his knights nodding their heads to his conclusion. After a few more statements, the meeting was adjourned and all the knights went back to their posts or to inform those who hadn't been there. Arthur raked a hand through his hair before making his way to his chambers.

On his way there, he wondered about why Emrys hadn't actually staged an attack yet. He'd been quiet for so long, only rising to save Mordred from his death, and then retreating back into his hiding place. It didn't make any sense. He'd clearly been able to reach the castle dungeons, what kept him from finding Arthur and slitting his throat mid-night? The action probably would have been easy for him, considering how he'd gotten in and gotten Mordred out without being seen.

What does he want from me, if it isn't to kill me? Arthur thought, as he entered his chambers. Was Emrys after the crown? Did he want to take over Camelot for his own, by rallying the townspeople against their king? No, there's no way, Arthur decided, because the people loved him. They agreed that magic was not meant to be in Camelot, that it was too dangerous to be tempered with. Right?

Among his thoughts, he jumped when he saw a figure in his chambers out of the corner of his eye. He immediately turned to face them, ready to take on whoever dared enter his chambers, only to realize it was just Morgana. Sighing, he looked at her as she smirked at the sight of him.

"Aren't you supposed to be the best knight Camelot has seen in years?" She laughed, with no malice in her tone. It was just Morgana being herself, and it made Arthur happy that at least there was at least some type of regularity in his life, amongst wildly chasing after sorcerers and beasts that threatened the safety of the kingdom. He smiled at his sister.

"I am the best knight. There's no competition." He smirked.

"Oh, really? I seem to recall that I used to beat you in a fight of swords... every single time."

"Please, save me from the stories of how you would pummel me to the ground and pretend to plunge a sword through my heart, I was there. Oh, and, as far as I recall, I would let you win."

"That doesn't seem to agree with how you used to beg me for mercy, hm?"

"Oh, shut up, Morgana. We both know that isn't true."

"I beg to differ..." She said, and then let out a laugh as she remembered a simpler time, where she and Arthur would be wrestling in the courtyard, as most siblings would. Even before they'd known they were siblings, it hadn't taken them very long to fall into their roles of brother and sister. However, time had passed, and even though they still bickered like children, they couldn't live their lives as they had before. Growing up had meant more responsibilities as each year went by, and while Morgana had only to learn how to become a lady of the court, Arthur had been hounded as crown prince.

The thought of her dear little brother being forced to become a man and pack away his childhood before it had even ended brought a frown to her face. And here he was, striving to search after a sorcerer just to make the people happy. He shouldn't have to stress about something that hadn't happened, or even looked like it was going to happen.

"Morgana?" Arthur asked, noticing how she'd suddenly gone sullen. "What's wrong?"

"Arthur... don't you think searching for the sorcerer is just a waste of your resources?"

"What?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow, confused at her sudden change in demeanor. Where had it come from? "What are you talking about?"

"I just... don't you think it's about time to cease searching for something you won't be able to find? Emrys has been here for months, and yet he hasn't attacked? What if he isn't going to? All your plans will be wasted on him."

"How are you so sure he isn't? What if, say, I do draw back, and then he strikes right when we think he isn't going to?! Innocent lives will be killed, and it will be my fault!"

"Don't you see?! Look at what this is doing to you, you've turned into a madman! I have no doubts that every single waking thought you have revolves around how to find this sorcerer!"

"Well, of course it does! How should I be expected to be able to rest when my people are frightened for their lives?!"

"This has nothing to do with the people! It has to do with the fact that you're so worried about Emrys that you've turned away from the people in your life!"

"That's not true!" Arthur tried, but his voice cracked in the middle.

"You barely talk to me anymore, and the knights are worried for your health. You constantly have bags under your eyes, and you're always tired. Leon told me you could barely keep up with Lancelot when you were training."

"That's..."

"Today is the first time it seems like you actually slept, no doubt because you went to stay with Merlin last night. You barely ever see him too, and I know how much he means to you." Arthur could only gape at her, because when had he told her about Merlin, exactly? "Don't look at me like that, Gwen is my handmaiden and also one of his closest friends. She wouldn't lie to me about where she thinks you've been."

"Morgana... I..." Arthur started, but found he couldn't form words to express what he wanted to say. He wanted her to know that he just hadn't gotten around to telling her that he'd been seeing someone, not that he'd wanted to keep it from her. It had just sort of happened? But how could he tell her why?

"Save it, I don't need your explanations. I'm happy for you. You deserve to be happy yourself, and I'm glad that you can have that with him." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him comfortingly. He mirrored her action and took the offered solace, realizing how tense he actually was.

Morgana was right.

He'd been so fixated on trying to find Emrys that he'd forgotten about the more important things. His friends, the knights, were worried for his health. He'd barely seen them except for when training, and he'd hadn't gone for a drink at the tavern with them in months. Morgana had become more of a memory in the time span, instead of someone who slept only a few rooms away. The only times he saw Merlin over the past few weeks was when he invited Arthur, never had he, himself, invited Merlin out. He suddenly hoped he hadn't given off the wrong impression to Merlin, because he really did like him, very much so.

It was as if he'd lost his sense of self, becoming an animal that survived only on searching for one thing its entire life. It had become his sustenance; the only reason he strived to live everyday.

Frankly, he was disgusted by it. How had he let himself become so consumed in the search for this sorcerer? It had torn apart his life in the process. He was cracked from the inside out; if he was pushed even the slightest bit more, he would break. All of his endeavors will have been for nothing, hell, they were already worth nothing, because what was the point of wasting his life away in the search for someone who wasn't causing any harm and didn't want to be found?

Arthur pulled away from the hug and looked at Morgana, who observed him carefully. His lips carefully lifted into a smile and she smiled back.

"You're right, Morgana." He said.

"Of course I am." She said, smirking at him before laughing as he glared at her. Patting him on the shoulder, she walked out of the room. "Good luck with whatever you're going to do now, little brother."

Arthur let out a sigh, plopping onto his bed and wondering, what am I going to do now?

~•~

"Merlin, are you alright? You've seemed distant lately." Gwen said, in that motherly tone of hers, and Merlin immediately wanted to spill everything to her. About his magic, about Arthur,—granted, he figured she already knew about that—about the fact that he was the Emrys that Arthur was so intent on catching. However, he couldn't say anything about those things, so he lifted his lips in a close-mouthed smile and tried to look as if he was alright.

"I'm alright, just a bit tired." He said. She narrowed her eyes at him, in that very Gwen way, and he looked away from her before she could zero in on him. She'd arrived under the pretense of bringing over some dinner, but after she'd placed the plates down, she immediately began questioning Merlin on what he'd been doing the past few weeks. He had yet to tell her about his relationship with Arthur, so he figured she was trying to fish it out of him. There was nothing he could do but just spit it out so she was satisfied.

"So, I heard-,"

"Fine. Yes, yes. I am seeing Prince Arthur." And as soon as he'd uttered the words from his mouth, she squealed and jumped up and down in her place, as Merlin believed she would. He groaned when she began to ask him everything and anything about their relationship, not wanting to have to delve into every thing they'd ever done together. As she blabbered on, he put on his jacket.

"Gwen, I'm going to go get the herbs Gaius wants by tomorrow morning."

"Huh? I thought we were going to have dinner together." She frowned, and Merlin rolled his eyes. What she really meant was that she was going to interrogate him on every aspect of him and Arthur, and it really wasn't something he wanted to deal with.

"I'm going to have to cancel, I forgot about this. Sorry." He grimaced at her, and she sighed before grabbing her things (she took the food she'd brought as well) and walking out the door. Merlin followed her out, and locked the door behind him, before heading toward the forest. He didn't actually need herbs for Gaius, of course, he'd just needed an excuse for her to leave. Instead, when he was far enough into the the trees, he transported himself to the Druid camp.

The sun was still up, though it was setting, and there were people out and about in the light. Immediately, he was recognized by Iseldir and Aglain, who welcomed him back merrily. Mordred came over to him as well, to say hello and welcome him back with a friendly hug. Suddenly, Merlin was suddenly being introduced to every single person, acknowledged as Emrys and treated like they'd known him his entire life, telling him that if he needed anything, all he'd need to do was ask.

It felt... comforting. It felt like a home.

He knew it wasn't his true home, as Camelot still held a place in his heart where it would stay and continue to grow as he continued to fall in love with every bit of it. The Druid camp was still very welcoming, and as he sat around the fire in the center of the camp after it had gone dark, using his magic to create images with the embers to entertain the people and their children, he knew he could grow used to this. Used to the idea of belonging, in a world where he was shunned upon the realization of that single word which defined his entire being.

Sorcerer.

In the Druid camp, he was celebrated for this, and it was the only thing that Merlin could ever want. It made him happy, and he smiled brightly with the children as he made dragons out of wisps of flame, flying it around their heads as they stared at it eagerly. When they tried to grab at it, Merlin would just have it fly higher, and they would frown at him until he brought it down again.

He spent most of his evening around the warmth of the fire, a surrounded by people he was quickly coming to love. It was something of a fantasy, how quickly Merlin found himself at home amongst similar people. It seemed too good to be true, but he refused to think about that as he spoke with his new friends well into the night.

~•~

After he'd said goodbye to the Druids, he made his way back to Camelot. It wasn't very far, and he'd already exploited enough magic already that evening, so he decided to walk back. It gave him more time to think about Arthur and his magic, and what he was going to do about it. That night, whilst talking to Aglain, he had explained a bit of his situation of how he was wanted in Camelot, though King Arthur was a good friend, as he'd phrased it. The king had no idea of his identity, and Merlin had no idea what to do about it.

Aglain had told him it wasn't safe for him in Camelot, that he shouldn't be there while the king was still searching for him.

"Merlin, if anything, you should come here and stay with us, to hone your powers before you face the king again." He'd said, and though the offer was very kind, Merlin had had to decline because if he left, and Emrys suddenly disappeared, wouldn't Arthur realize he'd been Emrys the whole time?

Granted, Arthur could sometimes be very oblivious to what was going on around him, but he didn't put it past his king to make the connection between himself and the sorcerer. If Merlin left Camelot with no explanation, he also had no doubts that Arthur would go out and look for him until he found him. It would be unavoidable, so there was no way for him to leave without being found and his true identity discovered.

He stared up at the glowing moon in the night sky, surrounded by stars that twinkled around it. The black-y blue darkness that rested behind it only highlighted the brightness of both the moon and the stars. Sighing, he walked and listened to his footsteps in the grass as he approached the gates of Camelot. There were no guards, and though it should have made him anxious, it didn't. He simply walked through the gates as quietly as he could and tried to stick in the shadows of buildings.

He was only a few feet away from his door when he was grabbed from behind. There were two of them, and from what Merlin could tell, they were knights. They grabbed his arms and held them behind his back, and he struggled a bit, but when he realized escaping would only cause him more trouble, he went limp and let them drag him to the castle.

It wasn't like they'd seen him do magic, of course, but being out this late in the night would raise suspicion to all guards. They'd likely bring him to Arthur for inspection and then he would declare whether or not Merlin deserved to be thrown in the dungeons for questionable behavior. However, Merlin didn't have an excuse for why he was out at night, which was likely going to cause him difficulty when he faced Arthur. He could only hope he would be able to think of something before he ran out of time.

Eventually, the knights had dragged him into the castle, and into the throne room where Arthur sat, waiting patiently. His head was rested on his hand, holding it up in sleepy boredom. At the sight of Merlin, his eyes widened and he was immediately awake, gaping at the sight in front of him. Merlin offered a toothy grin, as he was dropped at the feet of his king by the knights. He sat on his knees, as if waiting for the decision to be made of whether he was to be offered mercy or if he was guilty.

"Leave us." Arthur said to the two knights, who nodded at him, albeit skeptically, before walking out of the room and shutting the doors behind them. His king looked down at him and sighed, massaging his thumbs into his temples to calm himself down. "Merlin, what the hell do you think you're doing, roaming around at this time of night-! And get up, would you?" To which Merlin stood, but kept his head down, his cheeks turning red. He still hadn't come up with an excuse, and at this rate, he had no doubts Arthur would be inquiring as to why he thought it a smart decision to be out this late.

Arthur pulled Merlin toward him by an arm and wrapped his own arms around the other's waist. Though confused, Merlin hugged him back as Arthur nuzzled his neck. He had missed him, especially since Arthur had been so busy lately, they hadn't seen each other in a few weeks, not since the night Merlin had broken Mordred out of the dungeons. The thought made him feel slightly guilty, but being in Arthur's arms let him push down the guilt as far as it would go.

"God, I've missed you so much." Arthur said into Merlin's neck, which made him giggle at the feeling of the voice against his neck. It didn't help when Arthur started to leave kisses against his neck, purposefully smacking his lips together to make that horrendous noise. The feeling tickled, and Merlin was laughing hard by the time he pushed Arthur off of him and held his hands.

"I missed you too." Merlin smiled, and saw a light blush adorn Arthur's cheeks. It made his lips spread wider, liking the idea that he had just as much of an effect on his king that his king did on him.

"Is that why you got yourself caught, so late in the night?" Arthur asked, jokingly. "Just so you could see me?" And Merlin laughed along with him, hoping Arthur couldn't tell his laugh was strained.

"You caught me." Merlin chuckled, and Arthur suddenly pulled him over to the throne, pushing him down into it, and then stepping back to see him as he sat there. A smile grew across Arthur's face as he saw the sight in front of him, of Merlin, in his throne. It did unspeakable things to his insides.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, wondering what was going on. He stayed still in his seat, afraid that if he moved, something horrible would happen. All he could see was Arthur looking back at him, endearingly, as if Merlin was his entire world. The blush on his cheeks reddened even further.

And then Arthur was in front of him, offering a hand, which Merlin took before he was gracefully pulled up to stand. An arm slipped around his waist, and pulled him toward that strong body he so adored. He lifted his head to look at Arthur, who looked back at him with passion in his eyes, as if Merlin was everything he'd ever needed. Arthur leaned toward him to whisper in his ear.

"Seeing you in that throne brings all my wildest dreams to reality." He said, placing his hand on Merlin's cheek, before locking their lips together. Merlin responded right away, pressing his lips back before opening his mouth to let Arthur's tongue inside. He tasted around the inside of Merlin's mouth gently, sending a tingly feeling through Merlin's entire body. It made his knees weak, and he was very grateful Arthur was holding him up because he knew he wouldn't be able to do it by himself.

He felt like he was on fire, and had half a mind to check if he really was, considering his uncontrollable magic. It began to boil beneath his skin, wanting to be released in any way possible. Arthur pushed him to sit on the arm of the throne, sliding his hands down Merlin's chest, to his thighs, and then right back up again. It made him shiver under the touch, resolving to put his hands on Arthur's shoulders, slipping one into his blonde hair and pulling at it meaningfully. The feeling made Arthur groan, before he continued to ravage Merlin's mouth for all it was worth.

They were pulled apart by the sound of the door opening, and Arthur tried to fix his hair and make himself look as if he wasn't kissing Merlin only a second ago. Merlin laughed at the sight of him patting his hair down and fixing his shirt, right before they were greeted with the sight of Lancelot walking into the room. Arthur let out a loud sigh of relief.

It was when Lancelot saw Merlin did he connect the dots as to what had been going on, and he raised an eyebrow at him. Merlin gave him a smile with closed lips, knowing he was going to get a stern talking to at Lancelot's earliest convenience. He tried to forget about that as he watched and laughed at Arthur try to come up with an excuse for why they were in here, when the knights had very clearly told Lancelot there had been a suspicious person lurking in the lower town in the late night, whom they had sent to the king for interrogation.

He laughed the hardest when Lancelot rolled his eyes at Arthur's horrible excuses and told him that the throne room probably wasn't the best place for him to have his bedroom escapades.

Chapter Text

"Merlin!" Lancelot hollered for him from outside his door, banging his fist into the wooden door. He was finished with all of Merlin's frolicking around with the king, as if he wasn't endangering his life in each second he spent with the man. If Merlin didn't end his relationship with the king soon, he would take it into his own hands and break the king's heart himself. Lancelot didn't want to be the instigator, but it had to be done. Merlin was worth too much to be killed, even if the king did love him; he had no empathy for a sorcerer.

Lancelot went to enter, assuming the door was unlocked, only to be faced with the fact that it wouldn't budge. He tried several times to push at it, but he knew his attempts were in vain when it stayed put. Groaning, he slammed his fist on the door as hard as he could, making a ruckus so Merlin would be forced to open the door.

"Merlin!" He exclaimed, "I know you're in there! I'll stand here all day if I have to!"

"I hope you enjoy that!" Lancelot heard from the other side of the door. He groaned again, about ready to slam the door down with another pound of his fist. It seemed Merlin wanted to avoid confrontation as much as possible, and Lancelot understood why, he just didn't understand why Merlin would jeopardize himself in the first place. Being romantically involved with the prince was not safe for him.

He sighed, knowing Merlin was stubborn enough to refuse him all day. If there was no way he was getting in, there was no reason to stand in front of his door for the duration of the day. He turned to leave, but as he did, the lock in the door clicked, and then Merlin was opening the door and looking at him with a blank look on his face. It morphed into something akin to sadness, but not in its entirety, as he motioned for Lancelot to come in.

Entering, Lancelot shut the door behind him, and took a seat at the table by the fire. Merlin sat across from him and sighed, rubbing at his eyes and looking purely exhausted. Lancelot knew that Merlin had been busy recently, with his job for Gaius, balancing his relationship with the king, and trying to hide his magic on top of it all. He had rarely come to the tavern when they'd invited him, and Lancelot had been told by Gwen that she'd rarely seen him at all in the past few weeks. When she had, he always claimed he would catch up later, before resuming whatever he had been doing. It only made Lancelot worry for him more.

"I'm sorry." Lancelot said, sighing. He didn't want his friend to despise him, and he knew that all the pushing him to end a relationship he was clearly very happy in was not the right way to go about it. He just couldn't help it, because how was Merlin supposed to protect himself from someone he loved? If the king found out about his magic, Merlin would be helpless against him, with his love preventing him from harming the king. It was better if he would just let the relationship end.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, you're just looking out for me." Merlin replied. "I suppose it is my fault in the first place." He had known from the beginning that involving himself with the king would end badly. At this point, he was tired. Hiding his magic had become increasingly difficult, and Arthur had been continuously trying to become more intimate. Shutting his own eyes and trying to avert his king's attentions elsewhere—to prevent him from feeling the magic beneath Merlin's skin and seeing the gold in his eyes—was becoming more arduous by the day.

The other day he'd almost slipped up and revealed his magic to Arthur, and it made him realize how close to danger he'd put himself in. It was hard to comprehend how right Lancelot was, because Merlin knew, even if Arthur did love him, there was no way to escape his hate of sorcery. 

"Don't blame yourself, Merlin. We can't help who we fall in love with."

"I know... but if I hadn't, we wouldn't be in this mess." Merlin sighed. "If you want me to end things with him... I think I will."

"As much as I hate to see you unhappy, I'm afraid you're going to have to. Afterward, I'll be here for you, alright? Don't think you're going to end it and be alone."

"Okay..."

"When do you plan on doing it?"

"Tonight... Arthur's invited me for dinner. I'll break the news to him then."

"Make sure you give him a well thought out excuse, he's not the type to take things without an explanation."

"Don't I know it." Merlin chuckled, and Lancelot smiled. Merlin smiled back sorrowfully, before biting at his lower lip repeatedly as he attempted to come up with the proper thing to say when breaking a king's heart. He couldn't come up with anything that ended with him alive. Lancelot placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, offering him silent support, because he knew how hard this was going to be for Merlin. Then, he stood up and pulled Merlin with him, before moving around the table and drawing his friend into a hug.

Merlin blew out a deep breath, letting himself take comfort in Lancelot's arms while he had it. If he was to lose all the comfort he had had with Arthur, he was glad he wouldn't be without it at all. Lancelot would be there for him, when needed, and Merlin was grateful for that. It was going to take all of his energy to end things with Arthur, and he would be completely depleted afterward. There was no way he would be able to continue on if not for his friend.

"If you need anything, I'm here for you." Lancelot said, pulling away. Merlin nodded at him, hoping whatever Lancelot had would be enough for him.

~•~

"Merlin!" Arthur said, smiling brightly at him. Merlin smiled back the best he could, but could only manage a close-mouthed smile. Seeing this, Arthur frowned and took his hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. It made the edges of Merlin's lips curl up the slightest bit more, affected by the sweet gesture. Arthur mentally declared it as a win, before pulling Merlin out of his doorway and waiting for him to shut and lock the door behind him. Afterward, he took hold of Merlin's hand again, interlocking their fingers, and taking the lead as they walked toward the castle.

The sun was on the edge of setting, making their shadows stretch long behind them. Each of them were dressed in their warmest clothes and covered in cloaks. It helped both of them reduce the amount of attention put on them in front of the people, as Arthur needed to hide his identity. The snow made them leave prints in their wake, mingling amongst those of other people, creating a scattering of footsteps in all shapes and sizes. Theirs only added to the masses, giving it even more diversity.

"Rough day?" Arthur asked, rubbing his thumb unconsciously over the back of Merlin's hand.

"You could say that... I've been really busy lately, and I think it's starting to get to me." Merlin said, knowing it was only half the truth, but Arthur didn't need to know that. In response, Arthur halted them immediately.

"We don't have to do this tonight, you know. I'd be completely fine with changing the date if it meant you could rest." Arthur said, facing Merlin.

"No, no! I want to have dinner with you. I haven't seen you in a while and I've... missed you." Merlin said, with an unavoidable blush arising on his cheeks. Arthur stared at him, wondering how he had been so graced by the gods that they allowed him to know such a wonderful being. He smiled at Merlin, wrapping an arm around him, pulling him close, before they continued walking toward the castle.

"I've missed you as well." Arthur whispered into his ear, with the skin of his lips just only brushing the skin of Merlin's ear, making him feel like he wanted to grab onto Arthur and drown in everything that he was. He wanted to completely divest himself of anything and everything that was holding him back from being Arthur's and Arthur's entirely. It only made him further dread what he was going to have to do before the end of the night.

They arrived at the castle, and Arthur led Merlin through rooms and hallways, so many that he couldn't recall whether they'd turned left or right. There were servants around yet, looking onto them with curiosity and confusion. Arthur still had an arm lightly wrapped around Merlin's waist, and Merlin had no doubt that it was the main reason they were getting so many stares. Eventually, they arrived at a room with double doors.

Arthur stepped away from Merlin to open one of them, gesturing for him to enter first. He entered the room, to find himself in a large chamber, which he could only guess was Arthur's. He heard the door shut behind him, and he removed his cloak and let Arthur take it and place it on a table to their right. Afterward, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind, and Arthur rested his head on Merlin's shoulder.

He then pressed a kiss to Merlin's cheek before pulling away and leading him to the table to their left. There were various dishes piled onto the table; it was all very fancy and royal, and Merlin suddenly felt embarrassed to be wearing such casual clothes. He let Arthur sit him down on one side of it, however, and watched as his king sat beside him, at the end of the table. His body tensed up due to his nervousness; he didn't want to end things with Arthur. Merlin loved him too much to want to let him go.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Arthur asked, with concern. "You're never this quiet." He reached for Merlin's hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it before holding it between both of his hands—how were Arthur's hands so warm already?—and providing him well-needed heat. The feeling of Arthur's callous hands holding his, comforting him when he so needed it; it made him about ready to break down in tears. His face must have shown his emotions, because when he looked at Arthur's face, the concern had turned into an uneasy worry.

"I'm fine, really." Merlin said, hoping it was convincing enough. His voice was rough, though, due to his throat tightening, and he knew it ruined whatever mask he'd been trying to put up.

"Merlin, you look about ready to cry. If you don't want to tell me what's troubling you, you don't have to, but at least let me help you." Arthur pleaded, and for once Merlin wished he could just tell him. He knew it wasn't that easy, but he wished so much that it was. That he could show who he was, what he was, to Arthur, and not have to fear of his reaction. It was too good to be true, as most things are, and there was no way Merlin would ever be able to tell his king exactly why he was in such a mood.

"I'm sorry... I've had a very long day and I wanted to spend the end of it with you."

"It's alright, I understand. You can tell me anything, you know that, right?" Arthur said, and Merlin nodded at him with a small smile. Arthur smiled back, and then they began to eat, with Arthur explaining his past week's journeys to Merlin. He spoke of a beast that had attacked a nearby village, and how he had strongly fought it off, while his knights watched in awe. There was a slight exaggeration in his tone, and it was enough to bring out a laugh from Merlin. He knew Arthur was only trying to make him feel better by recounting the stories with more humor, and placing himself as the main character in all of them. In reality, Arthur always gave his knights credit where it was due, because he believed his men the best there were.

They ate as much as they possibly could, and by the end, Merlin was sated and content. The wine they drank had given him a bit more than a slight buzz, and it had improved his mood greatly. However, the thought that he would need to find a way to end things with Arthur by the end of the night still lingered in the back of his mind. He continued to giggle and converse with Arthur, and it was easier because both of them were a tad intoxicated.

After they'd finished, Merlin stood up and Arthur followed. Merlin went to walk around the table, toward the door, but in his state he ran into one of the chairs that were pushed into the table. It made him wobble in his place, and his head spun from having stood up too quickly. He could only stand up straight again when there were two arms holding him steady from the back. Turning around, he found Arthur smirking at him, and it made him blush again. He let himself be pulled flush against Arthur's body, embracing the feeling, knowing he wouldn't be able to have it for long.

"Merlin, you're so clumsy, what would you do without me?" Arthur said, affectionately. It made Merlin giggle and Arthur stared at him, wanting to pour all his feelings out at that moment. His heart was overflowing with love for Merlin, and all he wanted to do was show him. He wanted to show that he would love Merlin until the end of time, until he couldn't possibly love him any more.

Arthur claimed Merlin's lips with his own, startling him. Merlin leaned into him as much as he possibly could, pulling him closer with a hand on the back of Arthur's neck. He traced his fingers up Arthur's neck and into his hair, pulling it taut, and it made him release a moan. Merlin let him into his mouth, tasting the fruit they'd eaten for dessert on his tongue. Arthur licked at Merlin's tongue with his own, luring it into his own mouth and sucking on it. It made Merlin squirm and groan, pushing his body further into Arthur's unconsciously.

Merlin felt himself being led through the room while his lips were still attached to Arthur's trusting him not to make them bump into anything. He very quickly found himself stumbling backward until he fell onto a bed that felt too soft to be real, and saw Arthur over him, looking at his face with desire and longing. Usually when they were in this position, Merlin would push Arthur away and tell him he didn't want this, not yet. But the way Arthur was looking at him, as if he was the most precious thing in the world, as if Merlin was a rare treasure that Arthur couldn't believe he had dug up.

Maybe it was the alcohol in his veins, or the fact that he knew he would have to let Arthur go before morning, but instead of pushing him away, Merlin placed his hands on Arthur's cheeks and pulled him down to press their lips together again. He was greeted with Arthur shaking with what he viewed as either excitement or nerves—probably both. However, though his anxiousness showed, he became more gentle, with light touches up and down Merlin's arms and chest. It made Merlin begin to feel the magic simmer beneath his skin. He felt it rush through his body, moving from his heart to every corner of him.

Arthur pushed him further onto the bed, until he was spread across it with his limbs in every direction. Hands made their way beneath his shirt, feeling the warmed skin beneath it of his stomach. His hands were hot on Merlin's skin, leaving invisible marks that he knew he would feel for days afterward. Soft lips prodded at Merlin's jaw and neck, making him whine as they sucked and bit at his skin. They left bruises a dark shade of purple, and made Arthur feel content.

Then the hands were pushing Merlin's shirt off of him, leaving his upper body bare. Arthur mouthed at his collarbone, and it made him go limp. The magic flowing through him was getting stronger, so he shut his eyes tighter and tried to keep the sensations from taking him over. Lips attached to his own, and it was all he could do but press and lick back. After Arthur pulled away from the kiss, leaving Merlin wanting more, he began to press kisses and mouth down the center of Merlin's chest.

It was agonizingly slow. All Merlin wanted was for him to just get on with it, but Arthur continued to leave small bruises across his chest and stomach. Merlin made a noise from the back of his throat, in between a groan and a whine, and he heard Arthur chuckle from above him, stopping the movement of his lips completely. He felt Arthur move up the bed to look down at him again, before pressing his lips to Merlin's for a soft, chaste kiss.

"Merlin..." Arthur whispered, from above him. Merlin didn't know if it was the sound of Arthur's desperate voice, or the alcohol, or the fact that he was tired of hiding, or just that he unconsciously needed to respond to his own name; he opened his eyes.

Everything happened so quickly, Merlin wouldn't be able to recount it. He'd glanced up to see Arthur looking down at him with a loving gaze, except then it turned confused, and then afraid, and then angry. Arthur had moved off of Merlin as fast as he possibly could and stood stiff a few steps away. He looked onto Merlin with such ferocity, and Merlin had never seen him look like that before. His entire body trembled, his teeth were clenched, his hands were in fists at his sides, and he looked onto Merlin with an intensity so livid, it looked as if he would kill the next living thing he laid hands on. Merlin could only hope it wasn't himself.

"Arthur..." Merlin tried, standing up and off the bed. He stood with his hands up, palms facing Arthur, to show he wasn't going to harm him. "I..."

"NO!" Arthur yelled, making Merlin flinch and take a step back. He looked at Arthur imploringly, hoping he showed his true emotions on his face. He loved Arthur, why couldn't he see that? "You're a..." Arthur began, his voice shaking and cracking, unable to stay steady throughout. "A-, a sorcerer! You have magic!" He exclaimed, and then took heavy breaths, his eyes wide as he tugged at his hair and kept his focus on Merlin. It seemed he made a connection in those few seconds, because he opened his mouth again. "Oh my god... It's-, it's you isn't it?! Emrys. You're Emrys!" Merlin didn't have the heart to lie anymore, so he nodded his head. When he did, Arthur began laughing dryly, clutching at his hair even tighter, before releasing it. "So it was you, the entire time?! The country boy, from Ealdor. The last person I would suspect! Ha! You even went so far to make me fall in love with you!" He tried to laugh again, but instead he coughed, and Merlin could see tears pouring down his cheeks.

"I never meant..." Merlin tried, but Arthur just cut him off.

"What's that? You never meant for it to go this far? Just wanted to have a one-off with the king to tell your sorcerer friends that you have him under your thumb?!" Merlin shook his head vigorously, starting to cry at the accusation that he would do something so horrible. "Crying now, are you? Afraid you're going to die? Don't worry, I'll make sure your body burns to ashes on the pyre tomorrow at dawn!" And Merlin made to get away from him, to try and teleport away, but before he could, Arthur had pulled out that horrid magic-holding powder and thrown it at him. It made him cough, as it seeped through his skin and into his veins, stopping the flow of magic through his body completely.

Merlin dropped to his knees, all of his energy gone. His head hung and he stared at the floor, wondering how everything had gone from being so perfect to a nightmare. All of his fears had become reality, and he couldn't even hear as Arthur called for guards, and they hauled him up by his arms. He could vaguely hear the sound of chains being clasped onto his wrists, and then there was a rush of pain throughout his entire body. His body spasmed at it, and then it left a dull sort of pain; one that Merlin knew was going to hurt more as time went on.

They pulled him along by the arms, and he didn't struggle, just sobbed quietly as they pulled him behind them, his legs dragging against the floor. His vision was blurry through tears, but he could only just make out the figure in the room he was leaving. Arthur. Arthur. Arthur, who hated him because he had magic. Arthur, whom he loved more than he should. Arthur, who had been raised to hate magic. Arthur, who was going to kill Merlin, because he'd betrayed him.

Merlin could barely say anything with his scratchy throat, from the sobbing, but he managed to at least say something.

"Arthur! I love you. I'm sorry."

He couldn't see the look on Arthur's face, because he'd already been forcefully taken from the room.

~•~

They'd brought him to the deepest part of the dungeons. There was a single cell in which he was locked and chained to the wall. It had long since gone dark, and the only light was from the torches that aligned on the walls. The sight of fire itself made Merlin shiver, knowing his fate for the next morning. He'd cried out on the way down, but it didn't stop him from wheezing and continuing to sob even though he had no tears left.

He cradled into himself, drawing his knees into his chest and resting his head on them. The recent events ran through his head over and over again, unable to let him forget about what his future held. His body ached, and he felt the cold against the skin of his upper body, because he was still shirtless. He wished he'd had enough sense to stop Arthur before he started, to explain to him that they couldn't go further unless he told him the truth. Maybe if Merlin had actually come forward and not let Arthur find out on his own, he would have been able to convince him of the truth.

Alas, it was undoable now. He would face his inevitable death, as all sorcerers in Camelot before him had, and Arthur would watch on, glad to be ridding the world of scum. At least he would be able to see his love one last time, even if Arthur detested his very existence. The thought made him sigh, and then proceed to think of every 'if only' statement that could have happened if he hadn't messed up.

The doors into the cell's room opened, but Merlin didn't bother to look up when two pairs of feet stepped into the room toward the cell door. He pushed himself into the frigid stone wall behind him, shielding his eyes from whatever pain someone had come to inflict on him, but he opened them when he heard the soft voice he recognized.

"Merlin..." Lancelot said, standing outside of the cell. Gwaine stood beside him, and they both looked down at Merlin with sorrowful gazes. Merlin crawled toward the door, wrapping his hands around the bars and leaning up against them.

"I'm sorry..." Merlin said, "I made a mistake and ruined everything. I should have just done what you said, and ended it." They kneeled on the floor in front of him.

"How did he find out?" Gwaine asked, "You wouldn't have told him yourself..." Merlin's cheeks reddened at the thought of how, exactly, Arthur had found out. He didn't know how he was going to tell them, because he hadn't told anyone about how his magic reacts to sex. It embarrassed him, that such a thing would make the magic in his body get so worked up.

"Well... um..." Merlin began, blushing even harder. "Let's just say my magic reacts when I get worked up." Uttering the words seemed to give more information than Merlin knew it did, and he leaned his head on his hands to cover the color of his cheeks. When he looked over at his friends, Gwaine looked to be trying to hold back a laugh, while Lancelot looked as if he wished he hadn't heard the statement in the first place.

"Let's just worry about how we're going to get you out of here." Lancelot said.

"I can't ask you to do that... if the two of you are found, you'll be burning on that pure right beside me." Merlin replied.

"I'd rather burn with you than be forced to watch you die before me, Merlin." Gwaine said, seriously. It made Merlin happy that his friends were willing to go to such lengths, but it didn't change the fact that he didn't want them risking their lives for him. If they died along with him, or worse, instead of him, he would never forgive himself.

"You really shouldn't. Stay, live your lives happily, try and get Arthur to change his mind about magic, and I'll die content." Merlin said, hoping they went along with what he was saying.

"Merlin, we're going to try, at least. If you do have to die tomorrow, I would rather know we tried our hardest to get you out than be forced to bear the burden of having done nothing." Lancelot said.

"How are you planning to get me out, exactly? Neither of you have the keys to the cell nor to my chains, and we all know that Arthur carries his most important keys on him at all times. Unless you're planning on stealing the keys from him somehow, you're not going to be able to get me out."

Lancelot and Gwaine went silent. It seemed the hopefulness they'd arrived in had been taken and ripped apart by Merlin's dirty hands. They could only stare onto him as he stared back at them, with tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He rubbed at his eyes to try and stop them, to try and show he wasn't weak, but his attempts were futile. The pain from the magic-confining chains continuously ran up and down his body, making his limbs weak and sore. It only added to the misery he was feeling.

The two knights told Merlin they'd be back again before the end of the night, promising to come up with a plan to try and get him out, but Merlin knew if it happened, it would be too good to be true. Crawling back over to the corner of the cell, he let himself wallow in how his sorry life was going to end. Hope was something he couldn't afford anymore, not after Arthur had shown him so clearly that a person could be betrayed even when they were so dearly loved. He fell into an uneasy sleep, trembling from the tremors that ran through him each time he moved a limb.

~•~

Arthur couldn't sleep. He was too busy trying to comprehend the night's events. What had gone wrong so quickly? At one moment, he'd been showing Merlin just how much he loved him, and then Merlin became Emrys and Arthur's mind couldn't keep up enough for him to stay sane while it was happening. He was kissing Merlin, and then he'd said his name, wanting him to open his eyes so he could see the color of the sea again, to remind himself of the warmth and comfort that his love represented.

But his eyes had been gold. It was very clearly not the same color Arthur had loved, and at first he was confused, because what? He'd then realized what gold eyes meant, that magic was alive beneath the person's skin, and he had been scared Merlin had been enchanted. When he realized that that wasn't the case, he understood that his lover was a sorcerer, and had been lying to him through the entirety of their relationship. He'd immediately jumped off of the bed, drawing each and every conclusion that Emrys had been Merlin, and the pieces just fit together so well.

The fact that Emrys had been trying to avoid their relationship in the beginning, that he hated Arthur on the first day they'd met, that he refused to be intimate, that Arthur had been so desperately called to Emrys's home the night the Druid boy had gotten away. It all added up, and it had made him so completely furious that he wanted Emrys to pay for making him feel so stupid. He'd never been made such a fool of his entire life, and he would not let a measly country boy be the first person to have the last word against Arthur Pendragon.

And now, Arthur sat in his bed, wondering what would have happened if he hadn't made Merlin open his eyes. He had certainly been consenting, so it wasn't as if Arthur had been doing anything Merlin was uncomfortable with. Arthur would have liked to believe that he could have shown his love for Merlin in more ways than one, and Merlin would have responded in kind.

Love. Such a condescending word, and to make someone believe that they had it should have been filed illegal. All it really did was make Arthur's heart ache. It was such a horrible crime to commit, to play with a person's feelings and then make it all fall away. The object of his affections had lied to him, could he have ever really loved Arthur at all?

"Arthur! I love you. I'm sorry."

It flashed through his head as if it was happening in front of him. He couldn't rid his mind of the pure look of pain or the sight of those pleading eyes, that had finally gone back to the blue he so adored. It made him feel as if his Merlin was back to him, and why was he letting him be dragged away? Why was he letting his guards chain him up as he cried? Why wasn't he comforting his love when he was hurting?

All he knew was that he needed to hear that voice again, whether it was going to curse at him or not. He needed to see Merlin's face again, his eyes, or he wouldn't be able to live knowing he was going to have him killed. Arthur didn't even know if he wanted Merlin to be killed anymore, but since Merlin was Emrys, he didn't know what he was going to do. It all became muddled up in his mind, and he unconsciously went through the motions of getting out of bed to reach for a shirt, sliding it on before strapping on his boots. His keys were placed on his belt loop, as they always were.

He snuck through the castle halls, feeling awfully silly because he was the king, and why would he need to explain to anyone where he was going? When he reached the dungeons, he wove in and out through the hallways until he reached the final door that led to the single-cell room. The guards that were stationed outside of it, looked at him with confusion, but nodded agreeably when he told him they were free of duty for the rest of the night. He didn't have to tell them not to tell anyone that he had been here.

Before he pushed open the doors, he pressed an ear to them, listening to hear if there was anyone else in the room. There were no voices, just sniffling and the occasional sob, and it made Arthur's tense body drop. He took a deep breath, blowing the excess air out with his mouth, before opening the door and stepping inside, trying to give himself a haughty air.

The sight he was greeted with made his attempt at looking alright fall, because there he was, Merlin—Emrys—lying on his side, his knees pulled up to his chest, shivering in the cold, trembling as if afraid of his mere existence. Suddenly, Arthur remembered something he'd been told by a Druid he'd met in the forest.

"Emrys is a great and powerful sorcerer, he may just be the most powerful sorcerer that has ever lived."

And everything didn't make any sense, because how was this young, dumb, scared boy the most powerful sorcerer that had ever lived? He looked so small, so vulnerable in his state, that if Arthur killed him now, he felt almost as if he would be thanked for it from Merlin himself. The thought made Arthur shiver, because killing Emrys in cold blood was the last thing he'd ever want to do. He must have made a sound, because then Merlin was sitting up at looking at him with red eyes and fear. Arthur took the few steps closer to be in front of the cell doors, and Merlin whimpered and pushed his body to the opposite side of the cell, as far from Arthur as he could get.

"Is it morning already? I thought it wasn't for a while yet..." Merlin's voice cracked, and Arthur's heart broke in two right there. The look of him, huddled up only in his own skin, quaking with fear because he thought he was going to die, with tears still falling from his dry eyes; it made Arthur want to sob.

"N-no..." Arthur cleared his throat, "Not yet..." And he saw as Merlin visibly slumped back against the wall in relief. A relief he believed to be short-lived, but it seemed to help him gain his composure enough.

"Then, why are you-," Merlin began, but Arthur's heart was racing too fast to be alright, and then he was blurting our the last thing he'd wanted to say in this situation.

"Do you love me?" He said, so quickly it barely even sounded like words, much less a question. His entire face took on a light shade of pink, but the color on Merlin's face was brighter as it seemed he understood Arthur's inability to speak.

"Yes." He said, and it was all the encouragement Arthur needed to pull the key to the cell out and hurriedly turn it in the lock before stepping into the cell. Merlin looked at him with surprise, but fear also lingered in his eyes. Arthur kneeled on the floor before Merlin, who tried to look anywhere but at Arthur, afraid for his life. As he drew closer, Merlin shrunk smaller and smaller into himself, and he released several loud sobs, begging Arthur for something without a name. He kept muttering, "Please, please, please!" and it continued to crack the parts of his heart that Arthur still had left.

"Shh, shh..." Arthur uttered, calmingly, before wrapping his arms around Merlin's skinny frame and sitting down beside him. The sobbing continued, so Arthur pulled Merlin into his lap to give more comfort, but all it did was make Merlin cling to him and sob louder. Familiar arms wrapped around Arthur's neck, followed by legs straddling his own, and then Merlin's face was stuffed into the crook of Arthur's neck. He let Merlin cry, trying to warm his body the best he possibly could, rubbing up and down his back with warm hands.

"This isn't... It's not real, is it? I've begun to see things, I'm going crazy." Merlin said, pulling away to look at Arthur's face, holding it in his hands, as if checking to see if everything was correct. He ran a hand through Arthur's hair, and Arthur reveled in the feeling of it.

"I'm very much so real, thank you." Arthur said, and Merlin flinched away. He tried to ease him back with gentle caresses along his spine, but it didn't seem to be working.

"Then it's too good to be true. You'll be leaving soon, and then I'll wake up and be on a pyre." The words made Arthur sigh.

"Why did you never tell me?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"You'd have chopped my head off." Arthur didn't bother arguing, taking their current situation as explanation. "I was afraid... I love you too much to let you go, no matter how many times Lancelot told me that I should end things for my own safety. I knew you hated magic, and yet, I let myself fall deeper, faster, into love with you and by then it was too late to stop." Merlin let out, and it was Arthur could do but kiss him right then. He pulled Merlin closer to him, pressing their lips together with fervor, wishing they were in his bed, warm and comfortable.

After he pulled away, he let Merlin off of his lap, pulling another key off of his ring and looking at the chains that bound his magic. Merlin's magic. He didn't let himself hesitate for more than half a second, unlocking the restraints as well as those that held him to the wall.

After they'd come off, Arthur stood as Merlin did, but he took a step away from him, slightly afraid that Merlin would do something equally as terrible to him as he had done to Merlin. Instead, Merlin backed him up into the stone wall, and put his hands on Arthur's sides, leaning into him.

"Do you love me?" He asked, but it came out less confident than he'd desired. It sounded a bit rough, but there was still a trembling feeling to it. It made Merlin blush, and Arthur took a step closer to him, finally understanding that this was still the same boy who he had spent days upon days thinking of, the one that hugged him whenever he got the chance, the one Arthur wanted to hold at night and never let go. He pulled Merlin toward him by the hips, and nuzzled the blush on his cheek.

"Since the day I met you." He whispered, pressing his lips to Merlin's. He pulled him against his own body, savoring the feeling of Merlin's lips, of how he tasted, because he knew he wouldn't be able to have it for much longer. When he pulled away, he looked at Merlin's eyes, and was startled to find them golden. He pressed his back into the wall, still wary of magic, though he knew Merlin would never desire to hurt him. And then Merlin kissed him again, and he felt like he could handle the idea of his love having magic, if it meant he would never have to let him go.

When Merlin pulled away again, Arthur made himself have a serious look on his face, because he had to tell Merlin what he was planning, and that Merlin needed to get out. As much as Arthur didn't want him to leave, he had to in order to keep himself safe.

"We need to get you out of here." Arthur said, starting to pull Merlin toward the exit to the room, wondering how exactly to get him through the castle and the lower town without being seen. Ideas started running through his head on where to go, what to pass, and how to avoid the night guards, when Merlin tugged on his arm, preventing him from going any further. He turned to Merlin and looked at him in confusion.

"Arthur," He said, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Arthur said, wondering how exactly this mattered at the moment, because the only thing he was thinking about was how to get Merlin to safety without being seen. Merlin pulled him closer and held both of Arthur's hands.

"Okay. Close your eyes." Merlin said, looking at Arthur, waiting for him to comply.

"Merlin...?"

"Trust me, I promise it's not bad." And then Arthur shut his eyes, clutching Merlin's hands for dear life, waiting for whatever he was going to do.

He heard Merlin murmur something under his breath, and then he felt a strange feeling throughout his entire body, as if the blood in his veins was alive. It coursed through him, and in fear, he shut his eyes tighter, wondering what Merlin was doing, but trusting him enough to not open his eyes and look. In the span of a second, he suddenly didn't feel the hard stone beneath his feet, but instead a creaky wood board, and the air around him was warmer, and then Merlin's lips on his, easing any worries he'd had.

When Merlin pulled away, he found himself in the middle of Merlin's home, and what? The look of shock on his face must have been a hilarious sight, because Merlin broke out into laughter after seeing his face.

"What?" Arthur questioned, wondering if his surroundings were even real. The fire was alight, and so were the candles around the room, providing a small amount of lighting. When he looked out the window, he saw the pink sky, signally the sun was beginning to rise, and was immediately brought back to his task at hand. "Merlin, you need to leave Camelot." And Merlin had just pulled a shirt on, looking at him as if Arthur's head had turned five times larger.

"What? Why?" Merlin asked. Did Arthur want to get rid of him so soon? Did he only care enough to not want to see him die?

"Magic is still outlawed in Camelot." Arthur sighed, "Your execution was scheduled for today, if people find out you escaped and are still in the city, they will come after you." It didn't make him happy that Merlin had to leave, but Arthur was willing to do whatever it took for him to be safe.

"Where will I go? And what about you? What about us?"

"I love you, you know that. I need you to give me time... three months. Give me three months, and then come back, and magic with be legal again." Arthur pleaded. "And it doesn't matter where you go, as long as you're safe, it just can't be here."

"Three months, alright." Merlin agreed, sighing, tired of running for so long. He was just running again, but he knew when he came back he wouldn't have to anymore. It was going to be the only thing that would keep him going for the next three months. He began to pack a bag full of the few things he needed, and put on his warmest attire. Arthur watched with sad eyes, wondering how he would cope for three months without the one person who had become a constant presence in his life. If Merlin thought he wouldn't be able to live without Arthur, Arthur knew he was going to be much, much worse.

When Merlin finished, he dropped the pack and wrapped his arms around Arthur tightly, snuggling into his arms. They didn't cry; they knew it was not the end, that they would see each other again. Arthur pressed his lips to Merlin's one last time, trying to put the feeling of it into the back of his head, so he could remember it when he needed to. When they finally pulled away, not wanting to let go of each other, Arthur watched as Merlin stop a few steps away from him, clutching his bag to his body and staring back at Arthur. His eyes turned gold, and in a split second, Merlin disappeared before his eyes.

The fire crackled in Arthur's ears, suddenly aware of how empty the room was, and how empty it would be for the next quarter of a year.

Chapter Text

Arthur stared out the window of his chambers, not paying attention to the sounds of his manservant bumbling around behind him. It was time for the End of Spring Festival, and the court of Camelot had invited some special guests to commemorate the occasion. They were to arrive soon, and Arthur was leaning forward and backward on his feet, anxious for their arrival. He was anxious, as it had been a month since the ban of magic had been repealed, and the guests were going to be the neighboring Druid tribe. Arthur had never met them before, and he was wondering on how he was supposed to act.

The repeal was still fresh; many of his citizens still looked down on magic and hated it. They thought Arthur was a horrible king for not following in the steps of his father, but he didn't care less. Magic allowed for people to do impossible things, things that would help themselves and others. He had instated a Court Physician that had knowledge of magic, knowing all possible remedies for any sort of ailment. In the past month itself, Gaius has saved countless lives with the use of magic.

He also had added a group of sorcerers to his knights. They learned to fight with weapons yes, but they would also be trained in the skill of offensive sorcery. It continued to save his men's lives, and currently in court, he was debating with his advisors whether to make all knights learn at least a few baseline spells in magic as well. It would certainly make a difference if every single knight was aware of how to make a wound stop bleeding with magic, or how to use their surroundings to their advantage in a fight.

Arthur had no qualms about his decision at all. As far as he was concerned, everything had gone right. And yes, sorcerers still attempted to enchant him or kill him, but their attempts were usually in vain when Arthur was surrounded by people even further skilled in magic than they. He sighed, glancing down to the castle entrance as people milled about the courtyard, going about their lives. Many of them smiled and spoke with each other, laughing about one thing or another. It made him happy that his peoples' lives were safe.

There was a sound of bells, the type used to welcome guests into the courtyard, and Arthur jumped in his spot at the suddenness of it. He saw a group of hooded figures—no more than thirty, he presumed—enter into the court, and he scurried off out of his chambers to go and greet them. He walked quickly through the halls, trying to avoid running into the servants or other people. On his way down the steps, he met Morgana, who was waiting for him.

"Arthur, where have you been? You know this is important." She said, and Arthur rolled his eyes but nodded at her.

"I was waiting for their arrival in my chambers, I'm sorry." He said, and walked in front of her as she followed behind him. They made their way to the front castle steps, and watched as the group of Druids came closer and closer. As the distance grew shorter, Arthur's anxiety grew higher. What if he messed up?

They finally came to a stop in front of him, and Arthur felt a slap on the back from behind him. He turned to find Lancelot and Gwaine grinning at him, offering their support. The congratulatory look on their faces made him smile, and then he turned back toward the group of Druids in front of him. There was a single member in the front, with their hood still up and covering their face. To their left, the man Arthur had met so many months ago, stood, Iseldir. To their right, the face that he would never forget, that escaped from his dungeons, Mordred.

"Camelot and its king welcome the Druid people, from now and until forever. I am proud to have you all here, to consider you my own people, and I hope you all think well of me." Arthur said, taking a breath. His heart beat too quickly in his chest, and for some reason his anxiety grew, though he didn't know why.

"We are thrilled to be under the protection of Camelot's king, Arthur Pendragon." The voice that spoke was not Iseldir, as Arthur had expected, but rather the person in the middle. It made his heart race even faster, the sound of that smooth voice speaking his name. After the full fourth month had passed, Arthur had concluded that he would probably never hear that voice again. It was fine, he'd said, if Merlin was happy wherever he was, that was all that mattered. And yet Arthur had continued to cry himself to sleep various nights of the week since then.

The figure in the center pulled his hood off of his head, and Arthur saw the face he'd been longing to see since Merlin had left four months ago. It took everything in him not to weep right there, because he was here, his Merlin was here. He could only watch as Merlin took a few steps closer to him and bowed low before him. Arthur stepped down to the ground in front of him, and as Merlin rose and smiled at him, with the corners of his eyes crinkling and his eyes shining in the bright sunlight, a slight pink flush on his face, he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close.

"I missed you, so much." Arthur said into Merlin's neck.

"I missed you, too." Merlin said, and Arthur felt a tear drop onto his neck. He pulled away from the hug, aware of the stares from his knights and advisors, as well as those from the Druids. When he took a glance behind Merlin, he saw Iseldir with a soft smirk on his face, but then he put all his focus back onto his love in front of him and saw the changes he had gone through in the past few months. He had grown stronger, and when his arm drew out from his cloak to place his hand on Arthur's cheek, he saw it covered in runes from top to bottom.

Merlin had changed, and yet he was still the same person Arthur had fallen in love with, and would continue to love. And so, Arthur kissed him, right there, in front of the entire court, because he never wanted to have to bear to be without him.

Merlin kissed him back, knowing he would make sure Arthur would never have to search for him ever again.

FIN