Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It stupid really, how everything happened; the King and his Knights were returning from a visit to Nemeth and had already crossed the border to Camelot when they were ambushed. Normally it would have been fine. The Knights were great fighters and they had a guardian angel that remained in the shadows.

But the bandits were lucky and had managed to incapacitate Merlin first. Then their sheer number was enough to overpower some of the best warriors in all the kingdoms.

When he wakes up, Merlin is in a cell alone. His head is pounding and his arm hurts where the bandit had twisted it. There was a sweet taste in his mouth, left over by whatever it was that the bandit had held against his nose until he passed out. He refuses to open his eyes knowing that when he does, his headache is only going to get worse.

“Merlin.” someone whispers, Merlin pretends that he still is unconscious. Then the whispering gets more and more insistent until finally Merlin can’t postpone it any longer and opens his eyes. Immediately the small amount of light is enough for him to regret it. But he stubbornly keeps his eyes open and they immediately connect with Mordred’s who is on the cell across from him. He looks around and takes notice of the rusty bars and the lack of windows. The only light source is a small torch father away from where he is. He can’t see anyone else but the druid. Before he can panic and wonder if the knights are alive or if Arthur is safe, a small, familiar, pressure in his head interrupts him: They are close Modred said into his mind. Arthur is safe.

Merlin nodded and something in him relaxed at Mordred's words. He stood up and immediately rushed towards a corner to be sick, whatever they had drugged him with was still in his body and his body really didn’t appreciate it.

He glared at Mordred when the bastard laughed.

“Where are they?” he asks and tries to keep his voice quiet.

Mordred points down the hall They are over there. Should we break out? Modred asks. Merlin takes a moment to think. He doesn't know enough to be sure that organizing a prison break is a good idea, but he also knows it's not safe to remain where they are. He is about to magically open the door that ‘they left open Arthur, can you believe it?’ when a noise stops him.

He pauses and waits and then he realizes that the noise is footsteps, lots of them. People are coming towards the dungeons. He immediately makes himself smaller and takes a step back, his face transforms and he looks afraid and intimidated, everything about him suddenly screams helpless. It's the perfect disguise, one that he has mastered in the years he has served Arthur: the harmless manservant of the King.

Mordred does the opposite, he straightness his back, and his face loses the boyish charm Merlin has learned to love, he looks older, harder in some ways. If Merlin didn’t know that the boy had a sweet tooth and sometimes sings to the horses when he thinks he is alone, he could probably be a little bit intimidated by him.

A door opens and the footsteps approach. Merlin hears a voice barking orders but he is too far away to understand what those orders are. Experience tells him that whatever these orders are, he isn’t going to like it.

Turns out his Experience is right.

He and Mordred are brought into a circular room. There are five pillar that forms a perimeter and in the center of the room, there is another one. The room smells wrong, as if something had gone bad on it.

Elyan and Leon are already there, on opposite sides of the room. They are gagged and have their arms chained to the ceiling. Merlin looks around as he is guided towards a pillar and notices that the room is painted with lines and circles, forming a symbol Merlin doesn't recognize. By Mordred’s sharp intake of breath, Merlin assumes Mordred does. Before Merlin can ask what it is, he is gagged and chained in a similar fashion as Elyan and Leon. Mordred is placed across the room from Merlin, where he is gagged and chained as well.

When the bandits leave, Merlin’s attention is immediately caught by one of the circles on the floor. There is something about it that doesn’t sit well with Merlin. The color of it seems off, the placement is odd, somehow it looks like it is crooked. Something in Merlin recoils at how wrong it is. How bad made it looks, the same kind of bad a three-legged chair would look.

It isn’t until he hears someone jank on a chain that he remembers that he has more pressing matters to address than a not-quite-well-drawn symbol. While he had been distracted the other’s had been chained as well. Arthur was chained to the pillar on the center of the room he was blindfolded and gagged and there was blood coming out of his nose. His face was marred with purple and green. He seemed to sag on his bonds in a clear sign that he was not conscious. Merlin’s magic flared in anger, and one of the lines in the wall starts to shine.

NO MAGIC. Screamed Mordred in his head. Merlin flinched at the way it left his head pounding.

Merlin looks around and finds that Gwaine has been chained at his left and that Percival is at the right of Mordred. There is something clearly ritualistic to their placement and Merlin hates that he has to wonder if it's a coincidence that the bandits had captured the King of Camelot or if that had been the plan all along.

They are left in the room for a long time. His arms had started shaking long ago and Arthur had started to regain consciousness when the door opens again. Six men come into the room, all of them carrying a dark silver object and wearing dark robes that obscured their faces.

One of them gasped and pointed to the wall where the line was still shining. The others approached it and when one of them touched it he nodded in approval. Mordred started tugging at his chains. When he made eye contact with Merlin, he could see the desperation and fear clouding the druid’s eyes. Mordred suddenly turned his eyes back to the group of men and screamed through his gag.

“None of that silly boy.” They said at the same time, and their eyes shone gold. The way they moved and talked reminded Merlin of the way the druids sometimes communicated with him. But where the druids use a more gentle way to communicate, these men were aggressive. Modred stopped screaming and sagged into his chain, his feet no longer holding him.

The men fanned out and each of them placed themselves in front of their prisoners. The one in front of Merlin had no eyes and his face was marred with thin scars that formed an unidentifiable pattern. He took the silver object into his hands and raised it above his head. Merlin could see the others doing the same and then they started to chant:

Bearhtmhwíl be bearhtmhwíl,
bannuc be bannuc,
Sé Rowan Healsbéag
ásúcan sé sáwol út sylfum mé. (1)

The light of the shining line started to spread, reaching until it connected all the knights to each other. Merlin felt his stomach drop. The man in front of him smirked.

Bearhtmhwíl be bearhtmhwíl,
bannuc be bannuc,
Sé Rowan Healsbéag
ásúcan sé drýcræft út sylfum mé. (2)

Merlin started to sweat. The wrongness of the symbol was starting to make sense. He pulled at his chains trying to break free of them. He felt a link break and continued his struggle to break free. He could hear the knights doing the same. His magic rose to the surface ready to break free, but, at the last moment, he remembered Mordred’s warning and contained it. He could feel the blood draining from his face in fear.

Bearhtmhwíl be bearhtmhwíl,
bannuc be bannuc,
Sé Rowan Healsbéag
ásúcan sé æ út sylfum mé. (3)

They lowered the silver objects and Merlin recoiled at how dark it was. His magic was seconds away from breaking loose. Whatever the objects were, they were foul and wrong and Merlin and his magic wanted nothing to do with them.

His struggles against his chains intensified as the scarred man placed the object around Merlin’s neck. Merlin had expected to feel the cold touch of metal but instead, he felt the metal burning his skin. He screamed through the gag as the silver marred his skin. He could hear someone else screaming.

Then his magic finally broke free, breaking Merlin’s chains and dropping him to the floor. Merlin was starting to gather his magic so that he could stop the men before they finished their enchantment and take off the wrong, wicked, horrible, please goddess it hurts thing of his neck, but before he could they finished their spell.

Ælíf ond ferhþ
Ælíf ond ferhþ
Ælíf ond ferhþ (4)

The object closed around Merlin’s neck and he knew nothing more but pain.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since the ritual, but when Merlin woke up his head was resting on Mordred’s lap.

The pain had recede but the feeling of wrongness had persisted, he tried to stand up, he needed to find Arthur, the others, but his body felt heavy and he could barely keep his eyes open, he needed to find him, he… he…

The next time he came too, Arthur was in front of his cell door. He had two bloody swords on his hands and was talking but it took some time for Merlin to understand his words:

“Wake up you lazy idiot, we have to go.”

Mordred was already up. Merlin looked groggily up at him and even though he tried, he couldn’t stand. He felt weak, drained, so Mordred helped him up. He placed Merlin’s arm around his shoulder and helped him walk towards the now open door.

Merlin feels foggy and dizzy and something deep inside him hurt, but he didn't stop to think about it. He was too worried about Arthur, who had new wounds all along his arms and was sporting what appeared to be a split lip.

“You got him?” He asked Mordred, who nodded and extended his free hand to receive the sword that Arthur was offering.

Without missing a beat Arthur turned and started to lead them outside. They soon were joined by Gwaine and Elyan, who were both a little bit bruised, but alive. They didn’t meet anyone else until they reached the door of the dungeons. Leon and Percival were there and when they saw them arrive and they opened the door that would lead them to freedom.

He and Mordred were the last to walk out, Merlin stumbling as he takes the last step to get out of the dungeons.

“Come on, Merlin.” Mordred says and takes more of Merlin’s weight into himself, the others are busy looking for an exit.

Merlin doesn’t know what he expected once they exit the dungeons, but an abandoned ruin was not it. If Merlin’s memory served him correctly they had been overpowered by numbers, and while yes, there were now some bodies lying on the floor of the dungeons. There aren’t enough for them to have really been a threat when they had been ambushed. Finally, Gwaine comes running towards where Merlin and Mordred had been looking for an exit.

“This way.” As he points with his sword, he takes some of Merlin’s weight and the three of them made their way towards a literal hole in the wall. During all of this, Merlin feels useless, he can’t walk by himself and every time he breathes he feels as if something is crushing his lungs. He is still so incredibly dizzy and everything looks discolored. Everything was sluggish and moving to slow.

He doesn’t realize they were safe until he felt someone replace Mordred’s familiar presence and the warmth of Gwaine fading away.

“What happened to him?” Asks Elyan, who is practically carrying Merlin at this point. Mordred is trying to catch his breath so it takes some time before he answers.

“They drugged him after they put the collar on us,” Mordred says, and that explains why Merlin is feeling so shitty, but there is something else Mordred isn’t saying. Merlin can tell by the tension in the corner of Mordred’s mouth.

“I still think we got out too easily,” says Arthur. The others seem to agree with him and they turn their eyes to the surrounding woods. “Does anyone knows where we are?”

“There is a town north from here,” Gwaine says and points to his left. “If we make good time we can be there before nightfall.”

“Alright, we take turns with the drugged idiot over there. We don’t stop until we get there.” Arthur proclaims and starts walking in the direction Gwaine pointed and then stops, sighs and turns back to look at Gwaine who in turn lets out an amused laugh and starts guiding them towards safety.

As they walk Merlin notices the temperature dropping with the sun, he feels himself start to shiver and notices that he isn’t the only one who is starting to feel the cold. He can see Percival ahead of him constantly rubbing his arms and Leon trying and failing to keep his teeth from chattering.

Merlin tries to concentrate on walking, in placing one foot in front of the other without stumbling with his own feet. But the task is more difficult than anticipated and while Merlin hates to admit, he has experience waking up from a drugged slumber. He knows about the confusion that follows and the pounding behind his eyes and the way the effect doesn’t really disappear until a day or two. Still, this is the first time he feels the effects so deeply. The first time everything looks so dull and discolored.

He has also traveled during winter before when the sky is gray and the earth is white. And in the dead of the winter, he had seen life. Now, he just sees the word in a standstill. Sees the way the trees are waiting for spring so that they can produce new fruits. The way the animals are sleeping, waiting for a time food is plentiful.

“Sl¯æpe tô ûpweard (5).” someone says. Merlin feels someone pinch him, he looks up from where he had been staring at a bearded tree and sees Mordred next to him.

“What are you doing?” Mordred whispers. Merlin turns and looks at him and doesn’t understand. He shakes his head but that makes his headache worse and then he is lost again.

He comes back to himself when Leon’s arm is replaced by Arthur’s.

“Idiot,” Arthur whispers to him. Merlin smiles and looks and looks at Arthur who is beautiful and kind and he still has blood on his face, but he is safe and that’s what matters.

“Clotpole.” He slurs back at him. Arthur smiles blindingly at him and suddenly the world is not as dull as before. He spends the rest of the journey alternating his eyes between the corner of Arthur’s eyebrow and his feet that had finally decided to cooperate.

The moment they arrive at the inn, they are served food and wine. Arthur makes Merlin eat ‘so you won’t be completely useless tomorrow, Merlin.’ and then he is placed in a thin hay mattress in the same room as Arthur and Mordred. He falls asleep watching the ceiling spin.

He is woken up by a scream of pain that has staring bubbling in his throat. Something was clawing at his insides, burning his skin. God his neck, his neck was pulsing with the pain and he could feel the collar searing into his skin. He tried to take it off with his hands but the contact burned his fingers so he quickly stopped. He felt something scratching on the inside of his skin and it was too much. Too much pain.

The scream crept crawling up his throat but instead of a sound escaping when Merlin finally opened his mouth to let the agonized scream out, it was his dinner that creeps out of his throat. When there was no more food in his body, the bile burned his throat until he started dry heaving. Tears of disgust and pain running down his cheeks.

In the corner of his mind, Merlin could hear Mordred waking up and approaching him, until he was next to him and rubbing soothing circles into his back until he calmed. Merlin turned and saw Arthur sitting down on the bed staring at them.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Merlin tried to smile. “Nothing, go back to sleep.” Arthur nodded and in minutes he was asleep. Mordred was frowning at him. Merlin turned and saw his sick on the floor, the smell and sight only made him more nauseous, so he extended his hand and willed the sick to disappear, it didn’t.

Merlin could feel the familiar rush of magic when he had tried to enchant the sick away, but just like a wet match, it refused to light. Merlin reasoned that the fact that he was weak and dizzy might have something to do with it, so he channeled his magic with a spell. “Sýfre (6).” again he felt the rush, again it didn’t catch. Another spell maybe. “ Ðierran (7).” The magic was there, willing to work, but something was stopping it. Again and again, he tried until finally in desperation he spoke the spell: “Unblêoh ðêos (8).” The words made the burning sensation against his neck intensify. He could feel the magic at his fingertips where it painfully pulsed without release. Mordred's head turned to stare at him and then a look of pure sadness appears in his eyes and in a low voice he whispered:

“I had wondered.” Mordred shook his head in what appeared to be sadness. “The Collar is made of cold iron.” He explained. “And dipped in the ashes of a rowan tree. They call it the Rowan Collar.” when he saw Merlin’s confused look he clarified, “It chains the magic of the sorcerer to their bodies and turns it against them. It poisons you from the inside out.”

“How do you know that?” Merlin looked back at him and saw a reflection of his own fear in Modred eyes.

“There was an old rhyme the druids used to say: Cold Iron, to bind them and the ashes of a rowan, to guard me. From what I remember, it comes from what, until now, I considered a myth.”

“We need to take them off.” Merlin raised his hands to the collar once more and once again he felt his skin start to burn at the contact. It was a dull pain. It was there but easy to ignore if one did nothing to aggravate it. But every time something touched Merlin the pain spiked, but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt when he tried to use his magic. “Do you know a way?”

“No. As I said before, I thought they were a story the druids told the children so they would behave.”

And with that, both warlock and sorcerer remained quiet. A sleeping king less than 3 feet away.

The next day Merlin woke up and couldn’t feel his hands. He glanced down, expecting to see small burns where he has touched the collar. Expected to see blisters and irritated skin. Instead, he saw that the pad of his fingers had turned black.

Merlin frowned, Mordred had mentioned that he would probably feel some discomfort and symptoms similar to those that he had already felt, the dizziness, the confusion, the flared pain in his neck. He never mentioned anything about his skin turning black. It was probably a side effect, Merlin reasoned, nothing to be alarmed about. Thankfully he could hide it with gloves, and with the weather, no one would think to question him.

Mordred and Arthur remained fast asleep. He could go down find the innkeeper, ask for food to be prepared and then go to find some provisions. Find some extra clothes for himself and the others and maybe a bag to carry some medicine. Anything else the Knights could do it. Mind made up, Merlin rose from his thin bed and fought the dizziness that accompanied the movement and went to execute his plan.

The innkeeper proved to be a disgusting man who didn't want to help, but his son proved to be more helpful and helped Merlin get everything he wanted as well as something he hadn’t thought about, like bandages and a waterskin. He thanked him with a smile and a promise that Merlin’s master would be generous with his coins.

Once his new gloves were warming his hands he made his way to his room to wake up his travel companions. Modred woke up pretty easily, he mumbled a small good morning and didn’t do anything to stifle his huge yawn. Arthur in the other hand… the king always had trouble with mornings. And this one was not an exception. After minutes of talking and shaking and encouraging Arthur to wake, Merlin was about to resort to throwing water to his face (something that had precedence of working) when the king simply shoot up from the bed and ran all the way to the chamber pot, where he proceeded to relieve himself.

“Rise and shine,” mumbled Merlin, trying to hide a small smile when Arthur turned towards him with a frown on his face and confused glances around him.

“Ugh.” was Arthur's response, Merlin, who had been his loyal servant for many years understood everything Arthur had tried to convey with one simple sound.

“The food is being prepared, I got you another set of clothes and I got some medicine for your wounds. As soon as I treat you I will treat the others who are probably already awake.”

“Hum.”

“You need to ask the innkeeper himself, he won’t talk to me.” Arthur grimaced at that, stretched his back and then went towards the clothes Merlin had laid out for him. Merlin helped him change. If he was slower with the process, no one noticed.

Once Arthur was ready, the three of them made their way downstairs, where they met the other Knights.

Gwaine was scratching at his neck, just below the collar, and Elyan was looking at Percival’s collar with an eye that had been developed in the middle of a forge. Leon was talking quietly to himself, the way he tended to do when he was worried.

“Elyan,” asked Arthur, and Elyan, who was a knight but was also a blacksmith, a servant, and a traveler understood the underlined question.

Elyan shook his head. “I need my tools.”

“They don’t seem to be doing anything,” Arthur said after some time. “We wear them until we arrive.”

“It itches,” said Gwaine.

“We need to get them off.” Said Mordred in Merlin’s head. Merlin’s head pounded.

“I think we should try to get them off.” Said Percival, who looked a little pale.

“I agree with Percival.” Said Leon.

“And I agree with all of you, but I don’t trust anyone other than Elyan or Gwen to put any kind of tool close to my neck.” was Arthur response.

“It itches,” repeated Gwaine.

“I don’t like them.” Was Mordred response. Six pairs of eyes turned towards him. Arthur’s eyebrow rose into his hairline. Months ago, in a quiet night deep in the forest, Mordred had confessed about his past history in the castle. He had told all of them about how he had been raised with the druids and how his father had been killed by Uther. He told them about Arthur and Morgana saving him and about Merlin also being there. About how kind, Gwen had been to him. He didn’t mention the magic. But he did tell them about studying druid’s tradition and symbols. Being a druid was against the law but Arthur had still turned a blind eye towards Mordred's confession and pretended like he hadn’t known all along.

“Why?” asked Percival.

“The symbol on the floor, its means enchantment.” At the, frankly, confused looks of the knights, Mordred continued. “It means that these collars are powerful magic. You only use that symbol when you know your own magic is not enough for whatever it is you wish to do.”

“It amplifies it?” Merlin asked. His head pounded again, his vision got fuzzy and then become normal again. He didn’t understand. Was that the reason Modred hadn’t let him use his magic? It made no sense.

Mordred nodded. “It has a power of its own.” He sat down next to Leon and he stared at the window above Merlin’s head, looking at something that wasn’t there anymore. He looked afraid. “I once saw a young druid drawing it into the earth, he wanted the wards to be stronger.” all eyes were on him, no one asked what the wards were for. “The rune amplified to much of the boys magic, made it so that the boy couldn’t handle it. It burned him alive.” Mordred's gaze met Merlin’s. Well, that answered Merlin’s unasked question.

“Yes, but what does that mean?” Elyan tired to ask tactfully and failed. “For us I mean.”

“It means that whatever this thing is, they are powerful magic and that makes them dangerous,” Arthur said. He was frowning again. “We ride at once. We need to make it back to Camelot by nightfall.”

At this Gwaine laughed. “We are three days ride from Camelot, and with this snow, we are going to be lucky if we make it on five.”

Merlin felt his heart drop. He knew even before Arthur spoke, that they would make the ride and they would do it with the collars still on their necks.

“Then, we better get ready,” Arthur ordered.

Two candle marks later saw Merlin, the King and the Knights riding towards home. Gwaine had found and bought seven horses as well as more food. The sun was high in the sky but it did nothing to warm them against the bitter winter wind. Merlin was gripping the rains too hard, something, he was sure, the mare he was riding didn’t appreciate, but he could feel himself becoming dizzier by the second. He felt tired and sluggish. Keeping his eyes open was a struggle, never mind riding at almost full speed on an unfamiliar horse. They ride for what feels like an eternity until Arthur's voice cuts through the wind and the haze in Merlin’s mind.

The sun was starting to lower and Merlin knew they had to prepare shelter if they didn’t wish to die of the cold. He is the last to get off the horse and when he does he vomits the little food he had for breakfast. He hides his sick with the fallen snow and walks slowly around what is to become their camp searching for wood to build a fire. There are some thick trees to provide some shelter from the snow that is slowly becoming hail, as well as a middle-sized boulder that can protect them from the worst of the wind, but apart from that, there is nothing that can ward them of the cold.

Some time passes and then he hears someone calling his name. He looks up and sees Leon’s concerned eyes.

“Merlin,” he says once more. “I have been calling you.” Merlin stares at him confused. He was looking for firewood, he hadn't heard anything.

“Sorry,” he said, he was shivering, he noted with curiosity.

“Don’t mind it,” Leon said. He was sporting a small indulgent smile. “The food is ready.” Merlin nodded and followed the knight. The fire was already dancing in the middle of it, being lovingly tended by Elyan. Arthur was sitting in the middle of Gwaine and Percival, talking about, what Merlin imagined to be, the plan for the next day. Merlin sought out Mordred and sat next to him. Enjoying the warmth another body provided.

“Your lips are blue.” a voice piped up unexpectedly. Merlin startled from his thoughts about warmth and happiness and a comfortable bed. Merlin looked up and saw Arthur watching him.

“Well, it is cold Your Majesty” Arthur snorted.

“Come closer to the fire.”

Merlin did. It was really warm, and safe. Before he even noticed, he blinked and fell asleep.

“What is wrong with him?” said a voice in his sleep. It sounded like Gwaine, but Gwaine’s voice never sounded like he had been talking underwater, not even when he was really underwater, Merlin would know, the man tended to jump into any body of water available and dragged Merlin with him. There was also somebody else talking, so far away that he didn’t understand what the other was saying.

“I think the drug they gave him was more powerful than anticipated,” Mordred said. His voice too loud, it pounded against Merlin’s temple, he hated it when it did that. It made the other voice quiet for a minute, and then the voice talked more and more.

“What is he saying?” Leon whispered. Leon always whispered when he was worried.

“Hit hê daru, scieppan hê dyttan, hê gâl, hê gâl oflinnan hîe, weldôn yfel ðingian êow. Yfel mêðe. Ôleccan Byrðere lîcian. (9)”

“I think he is praying,” Percival said, his voice as soothing as was his presence. The other voice diminished its volume. And then it started screaming,

“Scieppan ðæge pro framdôn! (10)”

“Merlin.” the voice quieted. Merlin listened. He could hear the sound of home. Arthur always sounded like home. A hand shook his shoulder “Merlin, wake up, it's only a dream.” Merlin opened his eyes and couldn’t see anything but blurry shapes. “You have to eat.” the thought of food made bile rise into his throat, he scrambled to his feet and was sick behind the boulder behind him

“Tomorrow,” Merlin said. “I will eat tomorrow.” He sat once more in front of the fire, waving away the concerned question of the knights and the king until all of them gave up and fell asleep. Merlin following them soon after but just before he fell asleep he felt Mordred in his mind again.

“Emrys, we must get the collar off.”

Merlin tried not to snort. He knew that the cursed collar had to come off. He could feel himself losing time and getting weaker by the second. It was sucking out his magic and it hurt. It hurt in a way Merlin had never experienced. He had suffered a lot through the years. Abuse form cruel children who had looked at him and known that he was different. He had been a meal away from starving, he had been poisoned, stabbed and burned. He had endured every kind of punch and kick there was to receive. He had seen people he loved die and seen them being tortured. He had seen people like him being burned at the stake and seen them beheaded. He had suffered from the pain of knowing that who he was, was hated by the man he loved. He lived with pain every day. His back that was not quite right after so many times it had hit a wall or tree. His knees that always ache when it is cold or rainy. The way he couldn’t completely move his left hand. His neck where Morgana’s snake had made its nest. He lived in pain. But being cut out of his magic hurt worse. Hurt in a way he didn’t know it could hurt.

He tried to glare at Mordred and failed. It hurt the back of his eyes when he tried.

The next morning, he went to relieve himself and as he removed his gloves, he saw that the black that tinted his fingers had grown and extended to the middle of his palms. He frowned down to his hands and tried to recall anything in all of the books he had read about fingers turning black and came up with nothing. It didn’t matter. Arthur was calling him.

They rode on and on and on. With every bump Merlin felt his magic dissipating, the snow was falling and made seeing more difficult. Everything looked the same in Merlin’s hazed mind. The tree to his left was an exact same copy to the one on his right, the horse in front of him was both gray and black and red at the same time, he had five hands, his legs where rocks. Rocks where funny, the shapes and colors of them were always so different and they really had interesting textures. Sometimes, they could even turn into dogs! Funny thing dogs…

Merlin didn't notice they had stopped until Arthur yanked him off his horse. Before Merlin could protest to the rough treatment, the King’s hand covered his mouth. Then and only then did Merlin realize that the knights had their swords off and they were all making a circle around him and Arthur.

Merlin nodded against the hand on his mouth and Arthur let him go. Arthur immediately took a defensive position and together with the knights they waited.

The attack was as brutal as they tended to be. The bandit's crude sword movements were met with the trained knights and in seconds blood started to litter the once pristine snow. For Merlin it felt like he blinked his eyes and the fighting ended, he had remained standing in the exact same spot Arthur had dumped him. There was a body to his left, and the horse he had been riding was missing.

“My horse is gone.” He proclaimed with a placid disposition to the group. Gwaine and Elyan laughed at him. Arthur just glared.

“You couldn’t look after it while you did nothing to help?” Arthur asked.

“I help!” Merlin answered, well at least he normally did, this time he hadn’t done much. Or well, anything. He could see in the corner of his eyes how the knights started doing busy work in a way that made it obvious they were trying to eavesdrop without actually eavesdropping.

“You just stood there and did nothing! Like always!”

“I have never in my life…”

“Sire,” Leon interrupted, he had the most experience among the knights on how long such discussions could last. “There might be more of them.”

“Right, right. Let’s go.” Arthur said as he walked towards his horse.

“But what about my horse?”

“There is not enough time to look for it, ride with Gwaine.” Arthur glared at Merlin and pointed at Gwaine who was confiscating and cleaning the bandits' swords. He looked up and excitedly winked at Merlin.

“I don’t want to ride with Gwaine, he is always talking!” At this Gwaine’s face dropped in mock outrage. Merlin ignored him. “And my horse! it could die of the cold! Arthur.” Merlin pleaded.

“Fine, ride with whomever you want,” Arthur said as he rolled his eyes. “The horse is not you Merlin, it probably already found shelter. ”

“You don’t want to ride with me?” Gwaine asked ‘scandalized’ Merlin and Arthur ignored him as they were too busy engaged in a battle of wills. Sometimes Merlin won, more often than not Arthur did. This time Arthur did.

“Fine. I’m going with Percival. But if my horse dies then that death is in your conscience.” Merlin said as he walked towards the surprised knight, who then proceeded to mount his horse, where Merlin tried to follow him.

“Yes, yes the mysterious fate of your horse shall forever haunt me,” Arthur said as he rose into the saddle and smiled back at Merlin, who was struggling to find a comfortable position in front of Percival.

“Prat.” He whispered. He felt Percival’s laughter through his back.

It was almost dusk when they stop again. Merlin had changed horses and companions along the ride so that the horses wouldn’t get too tired. He still refused to ride with Arthur on principle and every time the king would turn to look at him, he would immediately start talking with whomever he was riding about the terrible fate of his old horse. It always managed to make Arthur smile.

Arthur smiling was a good thing, it meant that he wasn’t worried about Merlin anymore. Something that Merlin was extremely grateful for. He still felt incredibly bad, all of his muscles aches and his bones cracked, it was too cold and too hot at the same time and his neck burned where the iron of the collar touched him. But at least he was in the present and the constant haze on his mind had finally lifted. He could feel himself getting better, maybe the collar’s magic was not as strong as Mordred had made it seem and they could actually get the painful thing off.

The place they had stopped at was at a riverside. The river looked more like a stream than a river and had a thin sheet of ice that could be easily broken so that they could get fresh water, and some trees that could provide shelter. It was a shockingly familiar sight even though Merlin couldn’t quite place the reason why.

Along with the knights he helped set up the small space for them, searching for wood hoping it wouldn’t be completely wet so they could get a fire going and he helped to tend to the remaining horses, he even helped in setting up the makeshift tents made out of some fabrics they had bought when they were in town. It was somewhat passable as a place to spend the night. By Gwaine’s estimates they were still some days away from Camelot and any stop they made in a little town would only slow them down since the most direct pact was through the woods. Merlin had no problem braving the cold if it meant that he could take the stupid collar off sooner rather than later.

This time Merlin could finally feel his appetite and along with the knights he had a cold dinner of bread and cheese, the atmosphere was down, and turning around to look Merlin could perfectly see why. Leon had bruises all along his face and hands, Percival had dried blood on his temple, Gwaine had been limping, Elyan had been favoring his left arm over his right, Mordred was constantly scratching at his collar and he had a nasty cut on his lip. Arthur appeared to be the least injured of the knights, but Merlin had seen him constantly reaching for his right side, touching his ribs. Merin medical expertise told him that Arthur had been hit pretty hard in there and that the most likely, had a nasty bruise and if the blow had been strong enough a broken rib. Merlin doubted that it was a broken rib, Arthur wouldn't have been able to ride if it was, but the possibility was there. Adding all of this injuries on top of the ones acquired during their capture and the following escape, their progress had significantly slowed down.

Normally Merlin would enhance the healing properties of the herbs he used to treat the wounds, allowing them to heal faster and move quicker, but since his magic was not working, regular working herbs would have to do.

He rose and approached Arthur who had taken it upon himself to always look after the medical supplies since Merlin tended to misplace them. Since it was Merlin who bought them, he recognized the satchel they were on, so he just took it and turned to Arthur so that he could start.

“Let’s see it then,” Merlin said, Arthur had been watching him as he gathered the supplies and he knew exactly what Merlin meant, the moment Merlin had addressed him, he turned his eyes to the knights and pointed at them.

“Go with the other’s first.”

“I think not.” Merlin snapped at him and started taking out the herbs he was sure he was going to use. “Come on, the faster I treat you, the faster I treat the others.” They locked eyes and the battle of wills ended with Merlin victorious.

“Fine,” Arthur said, and slowly, he exposed his right side. Merlin had been right, there was a nasty bruise that was already black and blue in the shape of a longsword adorning Arthur's rib cage. Merlin heard Gwaine whistle, impressed. But after a close examination and Arthur’s suppressed winces, Merlin was relieved to find that there were no broken ribs.

“Mordred,” Merlin called, but it was unnecessary, the druid had already started to boil some water, he was currently breaking some of the thin ice on the river so that they could use it to press against the bruise to help with the swelling.

Once the water was ready Merlin added some valerian root and encouraged Arthur to drink the resulting tea. Once Modred had arrived with the ice they placed it inside one of the torn capes of the knights and placed it on Arthur's side.

“When it gets to cold take it off, we don’t want to risk you getting sick from the cold,” Merlin instructed, and with that, he was done with Arthur.

The other knights were also easy to treat. Gwaine’s limp was the result of a twisted ankle and it was quickly rectified by some bandages and also some ice. With Percival, Merlin just cleaned the wound and left it alone, Elyan turned out to have just a cut on his elbow that hindered his movements but was healing along nicely so Merlin also just cleaned it and left it alone. Modred had once again anticipated Merlin’s orders and he was already holding ice to his lip to help with the swelling and with Leon, there was nothing for him to do, the bruises would disappear on their own. They were all thankfully safe.

Merlin was at the river, taking off his gloves so that he could drink some of the cold water when a shadow appeared on the ice. He looked up expecting to see another of the knights but instead, he saw a painfully familiar face.

“Lancelot.”

The man smiled down at him. “Those hands shouldn’t look like that, my friend.” Merlin looked down and saw that the black was starting to color his wrist after completely enfolding his hands.

“Yes, probably not,” Merlin said it was really bad that his hands were completely black and that black and purple tendrils where spreading all along his arms. “But I don’t know what it means so I am just ignoring it. I mean I have more important things to worry about.” At this, Merlin turned around to look back at the knights who were busy talking amongst themselves. “I don’t want to worry them.”

“I think you should worry them, Merlin. You are at your most vulnerable and you need help.” Lancelot said kindly, the knight had always been kind, even before his death. He was being kind now, as he placed each of his hands on Merlin’s cheeks.

“I am fine. I don’t even feel sick anymore.” Merlin said, raising his hands so that they could cover Lancelot's.

“Merlin, you are talking to a hallucination.” He pointed out. Merlin shook his head.

“No, I am talking with you. You are here.” He squeezed Lancelot’s hands underneath his.

“I died Merlin.” Lancelot removed himself from Merlin’s space, and stepped into the icy water where no ripples appeared. “and I crossed to the other side, I am not here.” Lancelot stressed.

Merlin rose to his feet, angry, he put on his gloves “Yes, you are.” Lancelot had died. He was dead. His friend was dead because of him. Because Merlin had been to slow in sacrificing himself, and now his friend was back and here. He was home.

“You are sick Merlin,” Lancelot said, and he looked sad and desperate. “Please, my friend, listen to me.”

“I’m fine Lancelot.”

“Merlin?” Asked Percival, who had soundlessly approached him. Merlin threw Lancelot a warning look. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” Merlin snapped and with one last glance at Lancelot he went into the camp where a pitiful night of sleep awaited him, Lancelot’s sad eyes following him into his dreams.

The next morning Merlin was greeted by Lancelot’s worried frown.

“Why haven’t you asked for help?” Was his greeting.

“I’m fine Lancelot.”

“Emrys?” Mordred's voice was especially loud this morning. “Is everything alright?”

Merlin turned to glare at Mordred. The knight smiled at him and started scratching his neck. Merlin tried not to think about his own neck and about how much it hurt.

Before continuing on with their trip, Merlin checked each of the Knights' injuries and satisfied that they were all healing along nicely they forged on.

They rode once more. Merlin again jumping from horse to horse. This time around the knights talked amongst themselves as they rode, but Merlin could not join in into the conversation. He was getting lost once again. The knights talked but Merlin couldn’t hear or understand them, and the constant nagging on Lancelot on his ear was more distracting than helpful. The constant talking and the blurry look of the landscape soon put Merlin to sleep, Leon’s chest the perfect pillow.

He was woken up by his pillow moving. Leon was chuckling. “Don’t fall off the horse Merlin.” He whispered to him.

“Maybe if you fell then you would ask for help.” Lancelot snaped.

“Leave me alone Lancelot,” Merlin said without thinking.

Leon stopped chuckling.

“Merlin?” Leon asked.

“Sorry. I…” Merlin said, as he watched Lancelot’s ghost, hallucination, whatever it was, disappear and then to his mortification, he started crying. “I just miss him.” He stood up straighter in the horse, something he was sure it didn’t appreciate and tried hard to stop his tears. The third death anniversary had recently passed, four days after Samhain. Just before sunrise, Sir Lancelot had sacrificed himself in Merlin’s place. It had reawoken Merlin’s grief. It took him some time to stop crying, time during which Leon was gentlemanly enough to fall back so that none of the other knights could see his tears.

“We all do.” Responded Leon, Merlin could feel him taking a steadying breath and then like a true knight, forged on, brushing off feelings and complications that would distract him from his mission “I think King Arthur is going to call it a day.” He said as he urged the horse to go a little faster.

“I think you are right.” Merlin said and just before they reached the others: “Thank you.”

As Leon had predicted it, Arthur soon called all of them to heel. During the day, Arthur had started to recognize the terrain and had taken over leading them. He had claimed that Gwaine was always taking too long on getting them to Camelot. Merlin really didn’t have an opinion on Gwaine’s directions. He both felt like time was going on too slowly and too fast at the same time and he hadn’t been paying enough attention to his surroundings to actually know where he was.

They spent a lot of time clearing off the thick layer of snow off the ground so that they could rest without becoming too wet from the frozen water. Merlin avoided it by searching for firewood. He found a surprisingly little amount and by the time he was back the small clearing was already free of snow. This time there were no trees to shelter them from the falling snow and no place to set up the tents, so they all slept close to each other. Merlin sleeping next to Arthur, and in a show of how much they had grown since that time in Ealdor, they slept head to head and if during the night they drifted even closer together, no one batted an eye.

The next morning, Merlin found himself knowing that the day was going to be a bad day. The feeling might have been born out experience, or even some sort of vision, but Merlin suspected it had to do with the way Arthur had woken him up and how he saw more black than anything. But really it was probably nothing.

The day only got worse.

Elyans horse threw a shoe so that horse was unusable, it was hard enough for the poor animals to walk on the cold uneven terrain, without a shoe, the animal could barely walk.

It meant that now Elyan and Merlin both had to walk since the five remaining horses would grow too tired to carry their riders and also them. It meant cold snow on their feet and a slower progress. It meant longer breaks and it meant that Merlin got hit by low hanging branches and tripped over snow-covered stones more often than he would have liked. The sound his footsteps made in the snow only serving as an added irritation.

Merlin really didn’t like the snow. He liked it even less when he could hear it and feel it but not see it. Liked it even less than that when it was falling and it made his hair wet. They walked for a long time. Merlin growing more tired with each step until he had fallen behind. His head hurt, he was shivering with cold and the cursed collar was burning his neck with every breath.

It was easy to follow the knight's path since the freshly fallen snow provided a perfect mold for their steps. Merlin focused on it, trying his hardest to clear his vision with quick blinking, he was so focused in fact, that when he tripped with a root he didn't even have time to slow down his fall with his hands.

It hurt, his foot was throbbing where it had been caught by the root and the way he had fallen meant that he had probably twisted his ankle. Damn it. He had to get up and catch up with the knights, but the snow was so cold, and it helped soothe his aching head. Nevermind the fact that moving sounded like such a bad idea since he was so comfortable. Yes, better stay where he was if he was needed the knights would call for him. Seconds before he passed out, he heard voices calling his name.

Chapter Text

Arthur was seconds away from panicking.

Merlin was gone. And while this was a familiar situation, he knew that the man, despite all of his protest, was not fine.  He had been lethargic and confused, he had been speaking tongues while sleeping and now he was missing and Arthur had taken to long to notice.

He looked around for Gwaine, the knight was usually as protective as Arthur when it came to Merlin. The knight was looking all around him, shaking his head to himself an opening his mouth just to close it again. Gwaine was already panicking then.

Arthur opened his mouth to call his knights but had to close it as an unexpected figure appeared in the middle of the clearing they had stopped at. It seemed like the hooded man had blinked into existence.  Startled, Arthur drew his sword, the sound the metal made as it was pulled from its sheath as much as an order as if Arthur had spoken. Immediately his knights dropped whatever they were doing and drew their swords as well.

The man lowered his hood and the face of an old blind man greeted them.

“Modred.” He spoke, his voice raspy with age. He turned his blind eyes to the younger knight and smiled.  The knight in question was beaming back at him, his eyes tear-filled, Mordred was putting away his sword and marching towards the old man at the same time.

“Alec.”  He said, and then hugged him. The knights looked at each other and then back at Mordred and then back at each other. Arthur didn’t have time for this, he needed to find Merlin.  The hug broke up and the blind man, Alec, turned and somehow  looked  at Arthur with his clouded eyes.  

“Greetings, your Majesty.” He said with a bow, “I have come to warn you.” His voice took an interesting tone, dropping and deepening as he spoke. “There is great evil at work.” The sun, who had been hiding behind clouds all day appeared. It was minutes away from setting. “The curse of the Rowan Collar has started its work. It’s black touch has started tainting you. His days are as numbered as yours.”  and with that ominous warning, the sun disappeared.

Alec turned once more to address Mordred, his voice returning to what Arthur believed to be his normal caliber  “My boy, can you give me your hands?” Mordred nodded and removed his gloves. Modred took Alec’s hands into his, and then Alec proceeds to slowly inspect them with the pad of his fingers. After some time Alec withdrew his hands. “The collar?”

“It is uncomfortable, and sometimes it feels like it's burning.”  Alec nodded, he once again raised his hand and got it close to Mordred's neck.  Modred guided Alec’s hands to the collar and when Alec’s fingers made contact with the metal the man let out a pained gasp, the tip of his fingers quickly turning black before returning to normal.

“Emrys!” Alec suddenly exclaimed. “Where is he?”  The blind man looked afraid, he quickly turned around and as he did his eyes turned gold, he has frantically moving in circles walking and stopping, raising his face to the heavens just to quickly glance to his left. The Knights got into a defensive position, friend of Modred or not, a crazed sorcerer was dangerous. Mordred reached for the old man and touched his shoulder. Alec immediately calmed and the gold disappeared from his eyes. “Where is he?” Alec asked again.

“Where is Merlin?”  Mordred asked, his face bleached as he looked at Arthur.

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted, his heart dropping to his stomach.  Alec had said there was a curse, he had said that it was related to the collars, Merlin was the only one who was sick. Merlin needed help and Arthur was not there to help his stupid manservant. Arthur felt his heartbeat pick up.

“Has anyone seen him?” Modred asked. The knights shook their head. Somehow, Modred managed to get even paler. “Alec, can you find him?”  Arthur didn’t even think of the possibility to protest the use of magic, if it meant protecting Merlin, he would do anything. Alec nodded and started to chant. “Lâttêow me into of hê (1) ”  As he spoke a delicate ribbon of silver light appeared, it started unfolding and stretching, one end of the ribbon wrapping around Alec’s left hand.  “R¯æswa me setlan mîn endeðr¯æst (2)”   The ribbon grew taut.  “Follow me.” Alec ordered. The knights turned to look at Arthur, waiting for him to give his order. Gwaine was tapping his feet in a fit of impatience. Arthur rolled his eyes at the display.

“Let’s go.”  

If his father could see him now he would roll on his grave.  Following a blind sorcerer on Camelot’s forest, looking for his manservant along with his commoner knights and in the company of not one, but two druids, accepting magic’s help. King Uther would have been so disappointed.

They walked for, what Arthur felt to be, an unacceptable amount of time. It was at least more than half a candle mark. They had ridden for miles before they had even noticed that Merlin was missing. Unacceptable.

As they walked, the silvery light of the ribbon was their only source of light, so visibility was almost null, the snow had continued to fall and this only made Arthur worry more. They walked some more.

Suddenly the light of the ribbon disappeared.  The knights turned to look at each other, the sudden darkness forbidding.

“He is lost to me.” Alec said, his voice sagging. “I failed him.”

“What does that mean?” Arthur asked, his voice on the verge of breaking.

“It means that Emrys is gone.” The old man dropped to his knees and started weeping. “I came to late.” It felt like a punch to the gut. Arthur didn't exactly know why the old man referred to Merlin as Emrys, and at this moment in time, he didn’t care. Merlin was dead. His friends, his servant, his everything. He was dead.  

“No.” Modred said, interrupting Arthur’s emotional spiral. “I won’t accept that Alec. Stand up.”

“He is gone my boy, gone!” The man wailed.

“Damn it, Alec!” Modred shouted, his voice emotional in a way Arthur had never heard before. “Stand up. You have to give us some light, we have to find him.” Modred pleaded

“He is gone, child! Listen to me!”  Alec repeated.

“If he is gone, then Emry’s deserves a proper burial.” Mordred snapped. This made the old man stop his weeping. He stood up and nodded.

“Léoht. (3)”  Alec’s eyes flashed gold, he turned to look at Arthur and nodded. Arthur could see his clouded eyes filled with tears. Arthur couldn’t breathe.

“Come on Arthur,” Gwaine said, his voice was hard as steel, his eyes emotionless. “Breath.”  Arthur tried, he couldn’t seem to get enough air, his jagged breath was the only sound in the forest.  Suddenly Leon was in front of him, pushing Gwaine away. He slowly placed his hand on Arthur’s chest and placed Arthur’s hand on his.  

“Sire, follow my breathing.” Leon said. This, this impossibility to breath, had only happened once in Arthur’s life. He had been twelve, about to participate in his first tournament. He was watching the match before his and he saw how a boy his age lost his leg as his opponent swung his sword. He had looked at his father, sitting on the throne smiling at the bloodshed and Arthur had been unable to breathe. Leon had found him hiding behind his tent. Arthur crouching down with a hand to his chest and the other covering his mouth. The older knight had immediately crouched down with him and had told him the exact same thing. Concentrating on Leon’s breathing had been enough to calm him then, and it was enough to calm him now.

Once his breathing was back to normal, he nodded his thanks to Leon and Gwaine and then he forged on. Calling out Merlin’s name, he looked for his best friend. Merlin was not dead, Arthur refused to accept it.  

The knights looked for a long time, it felt like an eternity until Elyan found him. Half buried in the snow, with a foot entangled on a root, his forehead bleeding where it had collided with a snow-covered rock. Merlin’s breath misting in the cold night air. He was unconscious, wet, hurt and shivering. But he was alive.

They dug him out of the snow, Percival crouching down to carry him, Alec’s magical light guiding them back to their camp, where they proceeded to divide up tasks. Elyan and Leon built a shelter for Merlin, Mordred, and Percival was constantly fluttering to Merlin’s side. Gwaine was clearing up space where they could build a fire.  Arthur was just standing there, feeling useless staring at Merlin's pale face as he shivered. Alec joined him in his staring and after watching Merlin cough for an alarmingly long time, he spoke: “It's time for me to go.” Arthur nodded, not taking his eyes off Merlin’s unconscious form. He didn’t particularly care for Alec’s presence, not now that Merlin was here, where he could almost touch him.  The blind man continued to glance at him. “Take care of him.” Arthur felt Alec disappear and as he did, a fire appeared in the middle of the clearing, burning perfectly bright and warm without kindle.

“Move him closer to the fire,” Arthur ordered, and snapped into action, he went for the extra clothes he had on his bag and ran towards Modred and Percival who had obeyed his order. Merlin’s head wound had been treated and his ankle bandaged, but he was still soaking wet, so Arthur started removing his clothes, first his pants, quickly changing them to ones that were much bigger on Merlin’s skinny legs.  Then the gloves, Arthur could feel how cold and wet they where he removed them quickly and grabbed Merlin’s hands into his only to gasp in astonishment.

Merlin’s hands were black, so black in fact, that they seemed to blend in into the night. Arthur quickly pulled up the sleeves on Merlin’s shirt and cursed. The black reached the middle of Merlin’s forearm, and there were purple-black tendrils that ran alongside Merlin’s veins, some of them were thicker than others, but all of them looked  wrong .

“Mordred!” Arthur shouted the knight was next to him in moments, the panic on Arthur’s voice drawing in the others as well.  “His hands.” Arthur could imagine the different reactions of his knights, but he didn't turn around to confirm if his imagination ran true. What he hadn’t expected was Mordred taking one glance at Merlin’s hands and blanching and then running away to puke.  Arthur felt like the bottom of his stomach dropped. This was bad.

“Modred?” Asked Gwaine, his voice once more turning cold and distant.

“I’m fine.” The druid called back and returned to Arthurs side. He gently took Merlin’s hands into his “That is what Alec was talking about, that is the curse. We need to get the collars off.”

“How? Elyan can’t do it, and Camelot is closer than any of the villages, but its still two days away.” Arthur snapped. The silence was overwhelming. He shook his head. “We have to get him to Gaius, for now, let's worry about keeping him warm.”

They took turns lying next to Merlin who didn’t stop shivering for a moment.  Arthur couldn’t sleep a wink, between worrying about Merlin and trying to plan a way to arrive back home faster, his dreams avoided him completely.

He kept seeing Merlin half covered in snow, cold and bleeding. He was supposed to protect him, Merlin is his friend. And he had stupidly forgotten about him.  If anything were to happen to Merlin, the blame would lay completely on Arthur. Since it was him the one that had been distracted when the bandits had first attacked them. His fault, since he had been unconscious and unable to escape from his cell. His fault for not being able to break the chains that held him as the sorcerers had chanted and placed the collars on them. His fault since he could do nothing but hang there and watch as Merlin had fallen into the floor with a painful scream and stayed there, mouth open in mid-scream and eyes moving wildly across the room. His fault, since he did nothing to stop the sorcerer as he dragged Merlin away from him. Nothing, when Merlin had been too drugged to walk and to stick with the drug to keep his food in. He had done nothing. It was all his fault.

He took the last watch of the night lying next to Merlin, who apparently liked extremes since he had gone from too cold to too hot in a matter of hours.  Arthur worriedly placed his hand on top of Merlin’s forehead and quickly removed it. The man was running a high fever, Arthur tried to recall everything Gauis had said to do when someone was running a fever and couldn’t remember anything but the need for bed rest and a foul tasting medicine. Arthur also remembered Gwen’s kind hand running a wet cloth over his head as he fought of the Questing Beast bite. That had soothed him when he was in pain.

Arthur nodded to himself and got up. He was a man of action, he thought and worked better when he was doing something. He got part of a torn cloak and placed some snow inside of it, and then he slowly ran it along Merlin’s forehead. He didn’t know for how long he did this, but by the time he stopped the first rays of sunshine had started spilling across the sky.

The others woke up on their own, none of them looking like they had slept at all, the dark circles under their eyes only serving to highlight how tired they all looked. They broke up camp, fast and efficient and silent. All of them lost in their own thoughts, more often than not glancing at Merlin.

The man in question woke up many candle marks later, his head had been lolling against Arthur’s chest as they rode. Merlin’s eyes were unfocused and his breathing was irregular and he screamed as he failed against Arthur’s arms.  His screams drew the attention of the nearby knights, who were all quiet with worry, and as suddenly as it had started, Merlin quieted.

They rode on.  The snow-covered forest was unusually quiet, there was no air that made the three branches dance, there was not a sound of the animals scavenging for food, the only sound was that of the horse's shoes as they dug into the fresh snow and the occasional murmur of the knights.  Arthur really didn't like the quiet.

He had been born in a loud city, he didn’t know quiet, he never expected quiet, especially not in the company of Merlin. It brought forward an uneasy feeling, one of perpetual anticipation that left Arthur on edge. Never mind the fact that even though all his layers, he could feel how hot Merlin’s temperature was and they were still so far away from Camelot, what was he--

“Sire?” A voice broke the stillness and put a stop to the swirling on Arthur’s mind. Arthur turned around so that he could see Mordred, who was frowning and looking incredibly pale. “Sire… I,” But whatever Mordred was about to say was cut short by a booming scream, one that made Arthur’s bones rattle against his skin:

“O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!(4)”   The deep and gurgling voice was coming from Merlin, he had his eyes open and they were fixed on the grey sky. Merlin was shaking on Arthur’s arms.

“Merlin?” Arthur shook him a little bit. The man remained staring at the sky and then he started to cry, he still didn’t move and his stare didn’t waver.

“Sire,” Modred said once more, his voice was awe-full for reasons unknown, but when Arthur turned he could see that Mordred’s skin was shining with sweat.

“Yes, Mordred?” Arthur asked, he didn’t know which blue-eyed man needed his attention more, the one on his arms silently crying or the one on his right, who was pale and sweating and whose eyes were red-rimmed and clouded.  “Are you feeling alright?”

“No.” Modred said and shook his head, he looked towards the sky and then at Merlin. “I think the collar is starting to affect me more.”  and then Modred proceeded to fall from his horse.

“Modred!” shouted Arthur, his shout echoed by the voices of the other knights. Gwaine was already off his horse, since he had given his to Elyan so that the man could rest, so he was the first one to reach the fallen knight.  The fallen knight in question raised his arm.

“I’m fine, just dizzy.”  He said as he slowly sat up, Arthur sighed in relief.  

“Gwaine.”

“I know princess.” Arthur fought hard not to roll his eyes as he watched the flamboyant Knight helping Mordred back into the horse and how he slid behind him afterward.

Arthur looked at his men, he saw some worried glances and fidgeting, he saw fear as well as determination and courage.  He looked at Merlin, who was once again unconscious, and his resolve hardened. They would arrive at Camelot that same day. He dried Merlin’s tears and then he urged his horse forward.

Once again they rode on, this time, when dusk started, Arthur didn’t order his men to halt. Instead, he looked at each of them and rode on. The others did the same.

The sun had long ago been replaced by the moon when they first saw signs of Camelot. It was nothing more than a distant light, but that small glimpse of home brought with it a surge of energy.

They arrived at daybreak.  The sleepy and tired guards at the main gate coming into attention once they realized that they were not only in presence of the Knights of the Round Table but in front of their King, then they seemed to realize that this was not a victorious entrance and they scrambled into action.

One of them ran ahead to call for the stable boys, another one rushed towards Gaius chambers. And the other one did what royal protocol dictated and rang a bell twice, announcing the return of his King.

The courtyard was just starting to show signs of life, servants rushing from their rooms to their post, the kitchen was starting to build its fires, the guards were anxiously waiting for their shift to end when Arthur and his knights arrived at the front steps of the castle.

The stable boys were waiting for them and after the knights dismounted they took the reins of the horses. Percival was the first one down, and he rushed towards Arthur’s horse, extending his arms, ready to accept Merlin’s weight.  After maneuvering Merlin down from the horse, Arthur immediately followed, the movement making his bruise smart, but that was of no importance.

George was waiting close by to wait for Arthur’s orders, as the steward George always tended to always be there waiting for Arthur’s orders.

“Wake the Queen and have her meet me on Gaius chambers. Tell the kitchens to prepare some warm food for the knights and take it to their rooms.” Protest arouse from the tired knights, a glare for Arthur quieted the complaints. He knew they wanted to be with Merlin, but they all needed their rest. “Have three plates sent to Gaius chambers and take care of our belongings.”  

“Yes, Your Majesty,” George said with a bow and immediately started mobilizing his army of servants to turn Arthur’s orders into a reality.

By the time Arthur had finished relying his orders, Percival was way ahead of him, Modred following close by. Arthur rolled his eyes at the display. Mordred seemed to always follow Merlin like a puppy, always looking up adoringly towards the servant. It was only the fact that Mordred seemed to be getting sick that stopped Arthur for ordering him to his rooms to sleep and recuperate.

Goddess ‘order him to his rooms’ Arthur was really starting to sound like his father.

By the time Arthur had reached Gaius room’s Percival was gone and Merlin had already been placed in the small pallet Gaius reserved for his patients. The man in question had a hand to Merlin’s forehead and was frowning at Mordred who was in the middle of puking once more.

“Did all of you eat something bad?” Gaius said, clear amusement on his voice, he didn’t seem to be that worried about Merlin’s high temperature. Arthur released a breath he didn't know he was holding. The noise drew Gaius attention, the old man was smiling, he quickly looked at Arthur assessing him for injuries, and then he took a second look and a third. Right before Arthur’s eyes he could see the man paling and could see him losing his smile.

“No.” he whispered and removed the handkerchief Arthur had tied around Merlin’s neck to guard him a little bit more against the cold and biting wind. The moment the silver object was revealed Gaius entered into a frenzy Arthur always associated with high-risk situations. Gaius removed Merlin’s gloves and when he saw the black, a black that looked more wrong in the daylight, he cursed.  “How long has he been wearing it?”

“Today is the seventh day,” Arthur told him.

“Oh, my poor boy.” Gaius said, tears gathering in his eyes.  The mood in the room seemed to drop even more with Gauis words. “It's poisoning him.”

The Queen arrives just as this proclamation is made. Gwen is frowning but once she takes in the scene she rushed towards Merlin’s unconscious form, dropping to her knees with no regard for her expensive dress, her hands are shaking as he brushes Merlin’s hair out of his forehead. She takes in the black of his hands and his blue lips take in his flushed face and the bump on his forehead.  She then stood up, turned around and without an ounce of fear creeping into her voice she ordered: “Save him.”

“It's not that simple Your Majesty.” Mordred says before anyone else can say anything. “It's the enchantment of the collar, we have to take it off.”  Gwen frowned and turned around, she then looked at Merlin’s neck. She reached towards the piece of metal and lightly touched it with her hands.

“Are all of you wearing them?” She asked, her voice breathless.

“Yes.” Arthur replayed. Her queen’s eyes were sad and guarded, but there was a determination there, the same determination he had seen countless of times. The determination that had saved the lives of many. The determination of a queen.

“Show me.”  She says and points towards a chair where Arthur proceeds to sit. His queen slowly and carefully stars inspecting the device on Arthur’s neck. Her hands are gentle as she looks for a weakness in the metal.  While all of this is happening, Mordred and Gauis quiet conversation, the warmth of the room and the gentle touches of Gwen's hand lull him to sleep.

He is awoken by a painful and desperate scream.

Merlin is twitching and failing in his bed, there is blood coming out of his nose and he is straining against Mordred's hold.

“Better not do that again.” Gwen says. She is holding a small pair of tweezers in one hand a gavel in the other one.

“Yes, better not.” Modred says sarcastically. Another queen would have taken offense at the comment. Gwen simply smiled.

“I am worried too.” She says. Arthur has a crinck on his neck for sleeping sitting up so when he turns to look for Gauis he has to suppress a wince. The physician is at his table many books open around him.  He is also preparing a smoking potion in a bowl next to him, he must have felt Arthur’s eyes on him because he faces his king.

“I can’t find anything on how to remove them.” Gauis says and there is a desperate tilt in his voice. “How to make them, how to place them, how to dispose of them sure, there is plenty of text, how to remove them without killing the person wearing them? Nothing.” He is still mixing and adding things to the bowl next to him.

Arthur nods. “You can go to Geoffrey and tell him that you have my permission to access the forbidden books.” The forbidden books, the ones his father had saved for his own gain. All books of magic had been ordered to be burned during the purge, but Uther had still saved countless of them.  Gaius nodded his thanks and returned to his reading.

“Mordred.” Arthur called. “Are you well enough to read?”  The druid nodded. “Help Gauis. Gwen, are you willing to tend to Merlin while Gaius searches for a cure?”

“Of course.” The queen said, she once again brushed Merlin’s sweaty hair off his forehead.  

“I will go to…”

“You will go directly to your room to sleep, Arthur.” Gwen interrupted. “You will also eat and drink something and you will let Gauis take a look at your wounds. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you are favoring your left side.”  Arthur opened his mouth to protest. It was his fault Merlin was hurt, he had to help him, Arthur’s own comfort was the last thing on his mind. “You will help no one if you don’t help yourself first.” Gwen remained him.

It was something Merlin often told them. The most recent time was when both Arthur and Gwen had caught the same sickness, nothing more than an autumn wind, but there had been events planned, banquets to be held, guest to entertain, treaties to sign and both of them had, stubbornly, decided to carry on with their responsibilities. Merlin had been the one in charge of administering their medicine and the one in charge of taking care of two patients who refused to be taken care of.  After both of them had literally ran away from Merlin, the servant had locked them after dinner in the room and had told them in no gentle words that if both the queen and the king died everything they had done and where trying to do to conserve peace would be for nothing and then he had told them  “How can you expect to help someone if you can’t help yourself? I know that both of you have responsibilities to the kingdom, but one of those responsibilities is being alive.”  It had been enough for both of them to concede. They had been good patients afterward and a simple sickness had not grown to be the downfall of Camelot.

Still…

“I ordered my food brought here.”

“And I told Grettell to take it to your room.”  Gwen said she was smiling once more. “You are asleep on your feet Arthur, just go. If there is any news I will have someone wake you immediately.” Arthur knew when he was defeated.

He sat up and went to Gwen, he kissed her cheek. “Promise?” He asked. Gwen smiled at him.

“I know how much you love him, Arthur.” Gwen remained him. Arthur blushed. “ I promise.” she said.

Walking to his room Arthur tried not to think about how unfair he was being to Gwen. No woman could possibly enjoy knowing that, while she was loved by her husband, it would never be more than a love born out of friendship and companionship, not passion and desire. Still Gwen bore it all with a smile and compassion.

They often discussed Arthur’s completely inappropriate feeling for his manservant. Not that Gwen called them inappropriate. Gwen was the one that believed that Arthur had a chance,  that it was possible that Merlin could actually reciprocate Arthur’s feelings. She was the one that had released Arthur of his promise of always being faithful. She had been the one that had made him realize that the feeling in his gut he got whenever Gwaine or Mordred followed Merlin around making him laugh and smile was not simply anger that Merlin was not doing his chores, but jealousy. Gwen had been the one that had told him that his love was all for Merlin.  She was always there with a teasing smile and amusement in her eyes when Arthur returned flushed and smiling brightly after the force of his feelings for Merlin hit him. She was always there, with an open ear to listen to Arthur wax poetry about Merlin’s smile and eyes and his stupid ears. She was always there. Arthur really was unfair to his wife.

Long ago, Arthur had told Gwen that she was also relieved of her promise, that if she so wanted, she could stop being his wife and queen. Gwen had refused and had told him while crying  ‘Less than four months ago I would have told you yes, I would have given you back the crown that you placed on top of my head, I would have striped of my silk gowns and would have returned all the perfumes. But know, with Lancelot gone, I can’t give you back everything you have given me.”

Arthur didn’t ask again. Gwen was a great queen and his people would be poorer to not have her, but his heart ached every time he remembered how Gwen had cried for a love she had lost.  Even now, as Arthur finished eating and finished getting ready for bed, his heart ached. Lancelot had gone too soon.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Arthur was awoken by a rap on his door. Had it been Gwen the guards outside his door would have simply let her in, this meant that it was probably a servant.

“Come in.” he called. He sat on his bed to look more like a king and not a tired, worried man. It was one of the chambermaids, she was dainty and pretty and Gwen really liked her.

“The queen asked me to wake you Sire.” She said. “She also asked me to tell you that there had not been any change on Merlin’s condition but that Gaius and herself wish to speak to you.”

“Thank you Grettell.”  Arthur said, he stood up and went behind the screen to change. “Could you please take those plates back to the kitchen?”

“Yes, Sire.” Arthur could hear her gathering the plates. “Oh, Sire, before I forget, Her Majesty and Master Gaius are in the library.”

Once he had finished getting ready, he took Excalibur and went to find Gwen and Gaius.

In the library he was greeted with more familiar faces than expected. The knights were there, sans Mordred, and they all had books on their hands.

“Sire.” Greeted Leon, he was the closest to Arthur, his long hair was tied back in a braid that Arthur could only assume had been done by either Gwen or Gwaine.

“Arthur.” Gwen greeted. Arthur opened his mouth to ask the question burning on his mind, but once again his mind was anticipated “He is fine, resting. Gaius gave him something for the pain.”

“There is pain?”

“I assume so Sire, the bump on his head as well as his twisted ankle are probably hurting him, I can’t be sure about anything else.” Gaius said, he was opening and closing books at a speed that astonished Arthur.

“Elyan and I tried to remove the collar.” Gwen said. “We tried everything apart from melting it and nothing worked.” She was clearly worried, the book in her hands was shaking,  “We are trying to find something that might help.”

Arthur looked around and spotted an open spot, he sat down. “Which ones do I look through?”  A pile of books, courtesy of Percival, appeared in front of him.

The king, the queen, the knights and the physician of Camelot read for hours before the library doors opened, interrupting the desperate quick reading.

It was Mordred, he was holding up one of his hands. The tip of his fingers was black.

“I think” he said, stopping to cough. “I think it's time we went to the druids.”

Mordred explained that just moments before Merlin had started screaming and thrashing once more, and once, what Mordred had thought to be another one of Merlin’s screaming fits, stopped, he was overcome with a crushing fear as Merlin started choking with his own blood.

Gaius rushed towards his rooms, the old man leaving the knights behind without a backward glance.

By the time the others had reached him, they could see the blood running down Merlin’s mouth. The shirtless man was still breathing, and while they watched, they could see the black on his arms and hands expanding, the tendrils reaching towards his heart. Arthur’s stomach dropped and his heart stopped in fear.

“We ride at once.” Arthur proclaimed, his voice betraying his panic when his posture didn’t.  He was starting to lose his breath once more, how was he suppose to find the druids? How could he show his face to a group of people he had persecuted and killed on someone else's orders and by his own? How could he even ask this of them? His past mistakes had doomed Merlin.

“I already sent the druids a message.” Mordred said, no trace of remorse for his treason, not that Arthur particularly cared. Mordred’s voice brought clarity with it and Arthur was able to breath  “They are traveling as we speak to a clearing nearby, but they won’t reach it until the morrow.” Arthur turned around to stare at Mordred and nodded his thanks. The knight seemed flustered under the acknowledgment.

“Then get some rest.” Arthur said turning around to meet the eyes of his knights, of his friends. “We ride at dawn.”

The night was long and cold and as the moon made its journey across the sky, Merlin worsened. His breath turned shallow, his screaming fits more common, the blood dripping down his mouth abundant, his temperature was higher. Arthur sat in vigil, Gwen next to him, asleep with her hand in his. Arthur’s other hand was closed around Merlin’s Just before she had fallen into slumber she had whispered in such a low voice that it was obvious she hadn't meant to speak her thoughts. “It is worse than the moraeus flower’s poison.”

With that thought ringing in Arthur’s head, sleep was not an option. When the false dawn started, he removed his hand from his sleeping wife’s and kissed her forehead and then turned around to Merlin.

“I order you to live.”  He said, and a quiet voice, so quiet that Arthur must have imagined replayed.  

“And when have I ever obeyed you?”

The air was cold as they rode, following Mordred’s directions. The sun was just starting to come out of his slumber and the low visibility made riding dangerous, even so, their speed was fast.

They reached the clearing two candle marks later, the druid procession was made out of thirteen people. All of them were tall and all of them were covered with a hooded cape, the color of the cape varied, one of them was the same color as parchment, two were blue, four brown and the rest of them were green. They were standing in formation, like a triangle without one side, in its peak was the only druid with their head uncovered, she was also the one wearing the only parchment colored cape.

“Greetings young King.”  her voice didn’t match her appearance, it was the voice of a young woman, of a maiden, not of a crone. “We were surprised to hear your summons.” She said, there was no reprimand on her words, just as she had said, surprise. There was a small tilt on her mouth hinting to a smile. 

Arthur didn’t know how to reply, how to ask for help from people he was, by law, obliged to kill. He did not know how he could ask them to save his people, to save him. He remained quiet. The silence reigned in the clearing, the horses were skittish and the wind only served to flutter the capes and hoods.

The druids smiled at him and then at once they spoke:  “Tell us, young King, what is what you wish.” Their eyes were gold, but there was no magic in the air, none of the tell-tale smell or shivers down his spine. Deciding to do as he was told, Arthur spoke:

“My friends are dying.” He gestures and Percival and Gwaine remove their capes, they had been working to conceal the cursed collars. “Rogue sorceress placed them on me and on my people.”

The druids mumbled amongst themselves and then the woman (who could be nothing more than the leader) turned to stare at her followers.  They were all staring at her and then they broke their formation, walking towards the trees where they disappear.

“Mordred, my child.” She said. “Bring me a piece of rock and some of the tread of your cape.”

Mordred nods and starts digging up the snow on his feet, all the others stand around looking confused and useless.

Mordred stands with a small rock on his hand, he takes his hunting knife and cuts a piece of his cape, where he starts pulling on a remaining tread, once it is long he carefully cuts it. He walks towards the druid woman and hands the objects to her.

“Oh, my child how do you fare?” she asked as she started at Mordred’s black fingers.

“I am better than Emrys, Aida.”  

“Then we must hurry.”

Arthur and the knights stare as Aida starts tying the thread around the rock, her hands were as steady as they were wrinkled, and as she worked, she chanted  “Án clústor, Gânian duguð forsittan, staðol−fæstnian hêo âbrêdan, stillnes of hê âsw¯æman, forlêosan hêo bêon, scyrdan sîn wyrgung (5)”  Once the thread had been completely tied around the rock, it started to glow, the same red color metal did after being treated in the forge. Aida let the rock go and it floated until it was at her eye-level  “L¯ænan me wýscan trahtnung (6)”  the rock started to change, it became long and rounder, its edges disappearing until it formed the shape of a key. Slowly it floated towards Arthur, the red glow being replaced by silver as it did.

Arthur took it, it was still hot to the touch.  “This key is made by a string of Fate and a piece of Mother Earth. It will open the collars.”

There is something unfolding in Arthur’s chest a kind of relief he hadn't expected to be feeling. He had doubted that the druids would help him. He had been sure that Merlin would die.

“How can I ever repay you?” He asks before he has time to think. His father’s voice screaming on his mind, never make a deal with a sorcerer, never ask them for something, never give them anything.

“Have us present in the future.” She smiles and then turns to Mordred “Do write more often my child, we miss you.” and then she is gone.

Arthur frowns at the confusing words and then he turns to Mordred. “Let’s take them off.”  the knight nod and presents his neck. There is no opening on the collars, if there were, Elyan and Gwen would have broken the lock with ease, but the moment the key is near a keyhole appears. The key fits perfectly.  Arthur turns it and can feel the mechanism working. Once it's open Mordred scratches his throat in a hurry to remove it. Mordred throws the object far from him, once it's gone, it seems like Mordred is flourishing before their eyes. His color returns to his face and the small amount of black on his hands starts fading. Mordred is speaking, the words are familiar, even though they are unknown. Being druid is prohibited by the law, so Uther had ordered their prayers be taught to Arthur so that he could identify them. Only the sound, never the meaning. Mordred is praying to the Triple Goddess. He is on his knees burying his hands into the snow, his face illuminated by the sun. Arthur turns and lets him to his faith.

One by one, the collars of the knights drop to the floor. Mordred is still praying when Arthur opens his own collar.

“Mordred.” The knight looks up and there are tears in his eyes. Arthur doesn’t understand the emotion behind Mordred’s eyes, he can see relief and fear, but he can also see immense happiness, but right now, Arthur has no time to think about it. There is someone waiting for them.  “We have to go.”

The ride back is faster and therefore quicker than all the others, it also had the added downside that it aggravates the knights' injuries, but it was something they had been trained to ignore.

Arthur jumps off his horse before it completely stopped and storms into Gaius room, he is greeted by Gwen in her bloodstained servant clothes cleaning blood out of Merlin’s mouth. They had been away for less than six candle marks and Merlin somehow looked worse.

“We have it.”  He says before walking around Gwen to reach for Merlin’s neck.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Gaius so that he can administer it?”

“It's not medicine,” Arthur says, “they gave me a key.”  He turns Merlin’s neck and brings the key closer to it, the keyhole appears and carefully, Arthur opens it.  The moment the collar opens, the key disappears leaving a perfect burn mark in Arthur’s hand. Its red and it hurts but that is not important, because  Merlin takes a deep breath and for the first time in days, he stops shaking.

Arthur carefully removes the collar and the moment it stops touching Merlin, the collar stars to glow and lights seem to erupt out of Merlin. The lights are swirling all around the room, seemingly chasing each other, the reflection of their colors, red, gold, white, blue and so many other Arthur had never seen before, illuminating the room more than the mid-morning sun did. They continued to chase each other, making a circle smaller and smaller until they explode outwards, drawing the room into darkness. 

The mid-morning sun was still shining, Arthur can see it when he glances towards the window, but the room was still completely dark. In his hands, he can feel collar start to break apart.

“What?” Arthur asks and glances at Gwen or at least to were Arthur thinks his queen is.

There is a sound coming from the bed, whimpers and a familiar voice “ ðancword mîn Gyden, willîce êow (7)”  over and over again.  Both Gwen and Arthur rush towards Merlin, Gwen had somehow managed to get her hands on a candle and a match, she is unsuccessfully trying to light it, but while the match would easily light up, the wicker of the candle refused to take.  Ignoring Gwen for a moment, he reached to a (non-glowing) Merlin and touched his forehead. His temperature was still high, but for the first time since they had found him half-buried in the snow, his temperature seemed to lower.

“Go get Gaius.” Arthur’s orders or ask, he doesn’t know, he can only hold Merlin’s hand as he calms and falls asleep. He hears Gwen leaving the room. As Arthur waits, the room slowly starts regaining its light.

Chapter Text

Gauis comes crashing into the room, his cheeks flushed with the cold and exertion but he is still quick in his assessment of his patient, his hands move surely to cheek Merlin's temperature, and they are determined while they inspect his hands and chest. Satisfied with what he sees, he also checks Merlin's neck. Arthur hadn't noticed, but there is a thin mark running all along Merlin's neck where the collar had once lain. 

“Oh thank goodness.” Gaius proclaims, he collapses into a nearby chair. His eyes are red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles, and as Arthur watches he can see Gaius deflect into the chair,  his strength sagging.

“Why don’t you go to bed, Gaius?” Arthur asks. He is also tired, but he is still to strung up on the events of the day to even consider going to bed himself.  Besides, he has a lot of work to catch up to and if he decides that he will do his work right here where he can see Merlin, well who is going to say anything against the King's decisions?  Gaius tries to protest, but his eyes are dropping despite his feeble protest. Arthur helps him into Merlin’s rooms so that he won't be disturbed. The room, as usual, is a mess, but the bed is clear and Gaius looks better just sitting on it.

“If anything happens I will wake you,” Arthur tells him just before he closes the door.

He sits beside an unconscious Merlin and stares at his black hand and he can’t help but feel relief. He knows he had almost lost Merlin. Almost lost his smile and the way his eyes lighted up when he said something remarkably offensive. Arthur felt something wet hitting his cheek, surprised he wiped away his tears. It had been so long since he last cried. The realization struck him, the weight of his relief making him sob.

He didn’t stop crying for a long time and he only did thanks to the voices outside the door, remaining him that anyone could enter the room at any moment.  He sighed and went to the small bowl of water Gaius always had nearby and splashed his face. He cleared his throat, stole one last look at Merlin and then he went in search of Gwen, it was time he returned to his duties.

Merlin didn’t wake for two days. 

He was being fed with broths that would never be enough and with pureed vegetables that Arthur knew Merlin disliked. He was made to drink water and medicine that would help build up his strength, but he still didn’t wake.  There were many signs that he was about to, fluttering eyelids, twitching fingers, but he remained unconscious.

Gaius was the only one not completely out of his mind with worry and, as he pointedly reminded everyone who was, the purple tendrils were disappearing, the black residing. Merlin’s temperature slowly returning to normal and there were no signs that it would rise again.

Arthur tried not to spend much time dwelling on Merlin’s health. He had duties to attend to and the King couldn’t be seen distracted.  Even so, on the third day, he returned to Merlin’s beside once Gaius sent word that the man had briefly gained consciousness and he didn’t move from his vigil until Merlin blinked at Arthur.

His eyes were shining gold. But before Arthur could panic, the gold disappeared. Merlin’s ocean blue eyes blinked back at him, and then his eyes were completely black, the white and his irises seemingly swallowed by it. Until he blinked again, and the gold had returned. Over and over again, each time Merlin blinked his eyes changed color, each of them chasing each other.  Merlin had his eyes open, but he wasn’t awake.

“Gaius,” Arthur called, his voice shaking. The physician had been tending to another patient, but even so, Gaius left the baker son to approach Merlin without hesitation. “His eyes.”

Gaius started for a long time watching with fascination as Merlin’s eyes continued to change and then nodded to himself. “This is a good sign.”  he said as he observed, Arthur, snorted. “His body has started fighting the curse.”

“His eyes are gold Gaius!” Arthur whispered.  He could feel his nails digging into his palms, if he put any more strength into his fist, he was sure that he would draw blood.

“Ah yes…” Gaius said, and after a pause, he spoke once more, but Arthur could hear the lie in his voice “I suppose that it could be a residual effect of the collar or even the key.” 

“It didn’t happen with the others.” Arthur pointed out. He refused to be lied to again, not after Agrivane.

“Well, no, but the others were not as affected as Merlin, now were they? ”  Gaius said as a way of explanation, and that was true, but...

“But why was he the most affected?”  Arthur asked it made no sense. “They placed it on us at the same time.” He had actually been thinking about why it was Merlin the one that suffered the most at the hands of the curse, maybe it was because he was the physical weakness, maybe it was the fact that they drugged him and that he had recently come out of a cold, maybe it was something else entirely. Arthur didn’t know, and he did not like not knowing. 

“That I do not know.” Gaius admitted. “But what matters is that when the black is gone, I suspect Merlin will be back to himself.”  And with that Gaius returned to the baker's son and left Arthur alone with his thoughts but most importantly, with his doubts.

Merlin did finally regain full consciousness that very same day. Arthur was able to tell thanks to the fact that when Merlin finally returned to himself he squeezed Arthur's hand and smiled up at him. That special smile, Merlin always seemed to hold in reserve for Arthur.

“I see you finally decided to stop being a lazy idiot,” Arthur said as he squeezed back Merlin’s hand.

Merlin just shrugged and his eyes, who would not remain on the same color, focused on the water pitcher that was on the table next to Arthur.  Arthur sighed, released Merlin's hand and helped Merlin drink. 

“I knew you cared.”  Merlin whispered and smiled at Arthur, his sleepy smile making Arthur’s heart flutter. 

“Idiot.” Arthur said. Because he had been worried and he cared too much. Merlin was the most important person in his life and because of it, he was a weakness easily exploited. A weakness, that, thankfully, only Gwen knew about. 

“Prat.” Merlin replayed. “What happened?” He asked as he arranged himself back on the bed.

“What is the last you remember?”  Arthur answered. Merlin stayed quiet for a time as he recalled what happened.

“I had fallen behind as we walked and then I fell.” Merlin said. 

“Well, that is exactly what happened. You fell and hit your head, you also managed to twist your ankle.” 

“Oh…”  Slowly Merlin reached towards his neck and when he met skin instead of metal he asked “The collar?”

“We had to go to the druids for help” Arthur explained.  “you were unconscious for seven days and you were getting worse.” 

“That explains it,” Merlin said, his eyes were starting to drop.

“Explains what?”  Arthur asked as he tended to the fire and arranged the blankets more comfortably around Merlin.

“Why I am so hungry,”  Merlin whispered, his eyes already closed. 

“Idiot.” Arthur said. The small world full of love. “Sleep well.”

“Uhum…”

Arthur stayed for just a moment, watching as Merlin fell asleep.

Merlin woke up once more, hours after Arthur had gone. He felt tired but so alive. His magic was itching against his skin, crashing like a tidal wave, over and over again against Merlin’s hands, fighting against the curse. It hurt, but not as much as the collar had done. Nothing could ever hurt as much as the collar had.

“Gaius.” He called, his voice cracking. 

“Yes?”  The physician replayed, Merlin could hear him mixing ingredients. 

“Is there anyone else in here?” He asked. His magic was drumming against him, moving made it worse. Better to ask.

“No.”

“Oh, perfect.” And his magic exploded outwards.  It reached to the corners of the room, filling all the empty spaces between the books and potions, reaching towards the ceiling to play with the spiders that had made their webs on it, dancing with the flames of the candles and playfully singing to the frogs on Gaius tank. It tried to hide behind Gaius clothes, tried to go outside to chase the birds.

Merlin let his magic free until he felt more normal, and then he called it back. But when his magic returned, he grew nauseous, before he could stop it, he was reaching. A black, thick liquid was what came out of his mouth, it smelled even worse than it tasted.

Gaius was by his side in an instant, inspecting with a physician detachment the liquid on the floor. “I think that was the curse.” He said as he inspected it with avid interest.

“Ugh,” Merlin said, dropping down on the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Merlin took some time to think about it, his magic has finally calmed, he didn’t feel sick exactly, but he was tired and a little hazy, his ankle hurt a lot as well as his neck even though the collar was gone, he was a little bit hungry, but his stomach was turning.

“Not great, but not bad either. I just feel really weak.”

“Well that is to be expected, you were cut off from your magic for more than five days and then you got hypothermia.”

“Well if you put it like that,” Merlin said.  His stomach grumbled. “Do you have anything to eat?” Merlin asked.

Gaius nodded and went to the table, he came back with chicken broth and some bread. “This will help settle your stomach and for you to build up your strength.”  Gaius said. Merlin tried to sit up but couldn’t. 

“Let me call someone to help.” Gaius said. He was an old man and Merlin usually was the one that helped feed the patients and anything that had to do with body strength.  Merlin nodded and dozed while Gaius searched for someone to help. He woke up once more when Gwaine’s deep voice startled him into consciousness.

“I hear there is a damsel in distress with a need for a handsome young knight to rescue her.” Merlin groaned. “None of that my sweet damsel. I, Sir Gwaine, have come.”

“Was he the only one you could find?” Merlin asked Gaius. 

“You wound me.” Gwaine said.

“You are too loud.” Merlin protested.

“Fine. sorry.” Gwaine said as he approached Merlin and helped him sit, propping him against some pillows that definitely didn’t belong on the physician chambers.  “How are you doing mate?” Gwaine asks, his gaze is assessing as he catalogs Merlin’s condition, focusing on his hands. The black was residing,  it only covered his hands now. He also checked Merlin’s head and inspected his eyes.

“I’m fine Gwaine,” Merlin said. “Just exhausted.”  He knew the knight was worried, he could see it on the slope of his shoulders and in the way his hands shook as he helped him stay upright.

“Sorry if I don’t believe you mate, not with those eyes.”  Gwaine said as he helped Gaius feed Merlin. 

“What?”  Merlin said as a piece of bread was shoved into his mouth. He glared at Gwaine.

“Gaius didn’t tell you? Your eyes are changing color constantly.”  Gwaine said, he feed Merlin some of the broth before he stole a spoonful.  “They turn gold and then blue and then black over and over again.”

“Gauis?”  Merlin asked a question underlined behind it. His eyes were turning gold and no one was rushing to kill him.

“It's nothing, just the magic of the key fighting the curse of the collar,” Gaius said, looking at Merlin with a pointed look.  A perfect explanation really but...

“The what now?”  Merlin asked, completely ignoring Gaius look. The old man sighed in exasperation.

“The key, the one the druids gave us?” Merlin shook his head. And Gwaine fed him more.  “Didn’t Arthur tell you?”

“He just told me you guys went to the druids for help,”  Merlin says as he chews. 

“Well yes, we did and their ‘help’ was giving us a key and really cryptic advise,” Gwaine replies, and steals some more of Merlin’s food. “It was all really boring, you didn’t miss anything,” Gwaine reassured. “Then the Princess used the key to open the collars and tada! Here we are, all safe and sound and with normal colored hands. Well all of us except you.”  Gwaine said before taking more of the food. 

“Gwaine, the food is for Merlin.” Gaius remained.

“Aye.” Gwaine said properly chastised and feed Merlin some more.

“So everyone is fine then?”  Merlin asked after he finished chewing. 

“Yes. You are the only one that was really affected. Mordred was just starting to show symptoms when we rode for the druids.”  Gwaine shrugged. “Anyway, we are all fine so don’t worry your pretty head and finish eating so you can sleep, do not think that I didn’t notice how tired you look.” The knight held the spoon threateningly as he glared at Merlin.

“Yes, mother,” Merlin said with a grin and obeyed. He was soon fast asleep with a full belly.  Unaware that things were about to get a little complicated.

Arthur was supposed to be focusing on what the councilman was telling him. Something about taxes on someone random Lord’s land. But he simply couldn’t. His mind kept going on circles and that started and ended with this manservant. 

It started always in the same place: Why was Merlin the most affected? And then it migrated to: why weren’t the others affected at all? To then turn into a: why were they cursed in the first place? To then change into: why was their freedom so easily gained? And that brought Arthur to: why was Merlin the only one drugged? And then he ended up right where he had begun.

It was maddening. 

The councilman was still talking, unaware of how little of the King’s attention he had, when a black-haired youth made its way around the corner.  Mordred already looked as if nothing had ever happened. His fingers were completely back to normal and his pale face had lost the flushed look.

“I am afraid we shall discuss this later, I need to talk with Sir Mordred.” The king said, interrupting the councilman and without waiting for his reply he gestured to Mordred to follow him.

They are about to reach his rooms when the sound of the warning bells pierced the air. King and knight rush towards the throne room where the knights are instructed to meet when the bell sounds, saving time in trying to relay information to everyone all over the citadel. 

When they arrive, the doors are thrown wide open, inside, in different states of readiness, are the knights, no one is sitting and all of them are waiting for their king to make their way to the throne.  His cape fluttering behind him he turns to wait until the man who rang the bell can be brought to the room to give a reason.

This time the one who had rung it was Sir Kay, his face is bleached and his breaths erratic. He does not wait to be addressed and just speaks “The dragon is back.”  The proclamation is met with doubt and confusion, there are whispers erupting all around the room.

“The King killed it,” they whisper. “It's not possible.” others said. The ones who had survived the first attack are quiet and fearful. They know that the ones that are in the room had been the lucky ones. They were ones that had not died, that had not lost limbs or the ability to walk.

Arthur raises his hand to call to attention to himself, once the room is quiet and every eye is on him he talks.  “We never found the body.” He reminds everybody. It makes the fear in the knights double. “We knew this was a possibility, we prepared for this.”  He tells them. “This time we will not be caught by surprise.”  He orders them to different areas, distributes them to the lower town to evacuate his people. They had mere minutes to try to save a city, minutes that would never stretch far enough for it to make a difference.

Even so, Arthur was going to be where he belonged: alongside his knights, fighting to protect their home. He was just stepping into the courtyard when the flap of wings announced the dragon's presence. 

It was bigger than Arthur remembered, his head alone was bigger than a horse and his body could probably curl around the castle and have room to spare.  There are gasp and screams and the familiar sound of swords being drawn but Arthur can’t focus on that, he can only see the huge claws and teeth of a beast that was supposed to be dead. It was like a nightmare coming back to haunt him while he is awake, and the fear that consumes him then gives him more insight into Morgana’s reasoning than ever.  But he can focus on that. He has to focus on the creature that threatens his kingdom. 

But the creature is not attacking. It's just hovering inches above the courtyard, its tail swinging behind it and the flap of its wings making people stumble with the force of the wind it pushes.  Arthur stares at it, and wonders as the snow falling melts before even touching the skin of the dragon.

Then he sees Gaius running out of his room, a determined look on his face as he rushes towards the creature, avoiding all the hands that try to hold him back, before he knows even what he is doing, Arthur is rushing towards him, trying to stop him for doing something foolish, but before he can reach Gauis, the dragon roars, and lands. Its body so heavy it makes the earth tremble. He loses his footing as he watches as the dragon turns its eyes to Gaius.

“Killgarah.” The physician says and bows to the creature. Arthur runs towards him, he has to protect him, for Merlin, for himself.

“Betrayer.” The dragons say. It speaks. It shocks everyone into stillness. Everyone but Gaius, who flinches back at the title granted to him. “Why has my Lord called me?” it asks. And Arthur is in motion again, walking as fast as he can to get to Gaius, trying not to get the dragon’s attention on him.

“Be careful of what you say Killgarah. You are in Camelot.”  Gaius warns and Arthur ponders and questions. He is almost at Gaius side.

“I know where I am, oathbreaker.” KIllgarah’s voice was animalistic, hurt. “I spent more than twenty years imprisoned here.” The dragon growled and its tail lashed out, destroying an old statue depicting one of Arthur’s ancestors.  The dragon growled when it noticed the rock fall.  Arthur is ten paces away from Gaius.

“He is fine KIllgarah. I promise you that, and he will go see you soon, but please, you have to leave.” Gaius pleaded just Arthur grabbed him and placed him behind him. Excalibur unsheathed and adding more distance between creature and human.

“Young Pendragon.”  The dragon says and looks at Arthur with clear amusement in his eyes. “We meet again and in a much pleasant way.”  Arthur glared. And the dragon threw his head up and laughed. “How small you are, for such a great destiny.”  The dragon fire eyes focused on Arthur, pinning him in place, gazing deep into him searching for something that was hidden behind his soul.

“Killgarah,” Gaius said once more. The fire eyes of the dragon drew away, and Arthur breathed out in relief.  “Leave.”

The dragon smiled. “Tell him I will be waiting.”  It commands and then it is flying. It takes a long time for the dragon- Kilgharrah- to take off, but when it does the wind provoked by its wings is so strong to makes the knights stumble once more, by the time Arthur regains his footing, the dragon is gone. 

He turns to Gaius and glares, everyone else is turning towards them. Their curious eyes and frightful expressions turn towards the king and the physician.

“Not here,” Gaius says and it is only thanks to years of loyalty and friendship that Arthur grants that request.  They walk towards Arthur’s rooms were he orders his guards to leave and tells them to not let anyone into the hallway.  Once there he sits and waits for Gaius to start talking.  The old man doesn’t. 

“Explain to me Gaius, how come you are on a first name basis with the dragon that was not only supposed to be dead but it also almost destroyed Camelot?” Arthur says and there is rage seething underneath his voice.

“I-I-I knew him before he was imprisoned, Sire,”  Gaius said. “I used to talk to him often.  Once upon a time, I would have even considered him a friend.” Arthur didn’t miss the way Gaius referred to the dragon as him instead of it.  Arthur gave Gaius a pointed look, the old man continued. “Before your father, before the purge, dragons were considered the keepers of destiny. They were one of the most important creatures of the Old Religion, alongside phoenixes and unicorns, the creatures were venerated;  as something akin to a god,. But even then, the dragons were considered superior, able to talk and communicate with the humans, to see the future, to wield the magic of their own. They were ever powerful, ever wise and they would have all control over the land if it weren’t for the Dragonlords.”

“Spare me the history lesson, Gaius.” Arthur snapped, he had no time for this. “Explain to me what just happened.”

“It is important for my explanation that you know this,” Gaius said, feeling like a little kid again, Arthur listen. “You know about the Dragonlords, you meet one. Powerful men who had the soul of a warrior, they contained the dragons so that they wouldn’t grow too powerful. They had respect, they had families and responsibilities and as their name proclaimed, they had a title of nobility and even then, when the Old Religion was practiced through the land, there was only a handful left alive.

Before your father could proclaim magic illegal, he knew that the first thing he had to do was destroy the High Priestess and their sanctuary, the Isle of the Blessed, and he had to eradicate the dragons and the Dragonlords, if he didn’t, his purge would end before it even began and it would end with this death. 

Uther appealed and lied to me and in turn, I appealed to one of my pupils, a man by the name of Balinor.” Arthur brow furrowed. He hadn’t known that Balinor had been at court.  “Uther convinced both of us that the High Priestess was conspiring against Albion, so Balinor talked with the other Dragonlords and convinced them of Uther’s lies. They ordered Killgarah and the other dragons to attack the Isle and to kill those they could. The dragons obeyed, they had no choice and their protest went ignored. 

The Dragonlords truly believed they were doing the right thing.  The battle lasted for three days and three nights.  Many dragons fell, and all but one of the Dragonlord, Balinor, remained alive.

With the Isle destroyed and the High Priestess and their pupils either death or scattered through the land, their numbers diminished enough that they posed no threat. That left the remaining dragons, those who had survived the battle: Killgarah, the Great Dragon. Alimo, the Old One and Mora, the Silent Lady.

Uther tricked Balinor and lured him into a cave and because of Uther’s deceptions Balinor ordered the dragons to come and to stand on the cavern floor and stay there. Uther then imprisoned Balinor, putting on him a collar similar to the one you had been wearing, it suppressed his magic and his Dragonlord abilities. But the order given had stuck. The dragons were not to move. So Uther and his knights killed two of them were they stood and imprisoned one.  The one Uther was most familiar with, the one he knew meant the most to the people of the Old Religion. He chained him with iron and Rowan and runes and left him in the cavern. Were he would stay for two decades.” An ominous silence rang in the room. Interrupted only by Arthur’s quiet voice.

“What happened to Balinor? How did he escape?”

“I freed him,” Gaius confessed.  “The night before I was to take the oath your father demanded of me: I wouldn't practice magic again if I wished to keep my head. I went to the dungeons and freed him using the magic that I had not yet surrendered. I took him to the druids who spat at my face knowing my part on what happened and would happen and I left him there, never to see him again.

The next day I took my oath and was proclaimed Betrayer by the Old Religion. I stood aside and did nothing while my friends were burned on the pyre, nothing while families without guilt were killed with arrows and nothing as massacre after massacre practically eradicated the druids. I was deserving of the title.” Gaius admitted. There were tears falling down his face and a gnawing sense of guilt had started forming on Arthur’s stomach. He had been a baby when all of this had happened and apart from the Battle of Three Days he hadn’t heard about anything else, he was compliant on the acts though, having done nothing to stop them. 

“Five years ago” Gaius continued. “Killgarah escaped.” Arthur saw fire on his mind, heard the scream of the victims. “The last Dragonlord of old was killed, and the dragon defeated, but now he is back and... he is looking for the son of Balinor.”

Arthur gasped. And then whispered: “The son? There is another Dragonlord?”

“Yes. Balinor’s son is living right here, on Camelot.” Arthur opened his mouth, but Gaius interrupted him. “but I will not reveal their name or their location. The Old Religion forgave my past betrayals but if I was to betray the Dragonlords once more I am afraid the consequences would not only affect me but, like with the unicorn, it would affect all the land.”

Arthur stopped to think of the implications of what Gaius was telling him. Killing a unicorn was a bigger crime in the eyes of the Old Religion than letting thousands of people die. And betraying a Dragonlord was worse than betraying a dragon. But he had to move past that, he had to focus on what was important to his people.

“So, the Dragonlord called Killgarah to the city, I understand that. But it still doesn’t explain how the dragon is still alive. Or why was it called to the city in the first place.” Arthur pointed out.

“The reason the dragon is still alive its because his anatomy is different from humans. Their heart is not on the left side.” Gaius said and the dulled rage of Arthur alighted once more.

“And you did not care to share this information when it was needed?” Arthur shouted. 

“I didn’t know it at the time Sire,” Gaius said, and Arthur could hear the truth.

Arthur turned his back and tried to make sense of everything Gaius had just told him. His father had employed dishonorable tactics to eradicate magic from the land, he had lied and used his two enemies so that they would destroy each other. He had orphaned thousand people in the name of justice. But what Gaius had revealed about the presence of the Dragonlord in Camelot was the thing Arthur was stuck on.  It had to mean something. Something important and life-changing that a man who could die thanks to his father inheritance remained and not only remained but had risked his life to save Camelot and he had saved Camelot, there was only one reason the dragon could have stopped attacking.

 “The Dragonlord commanded the dragon to stop attacking, didn’t he? And after that, he told you about the dragon’s anatomy.”

“Yes,” Gaius said.

“You told the dragon that you his Lord was safe, that he was fine.” Arthur pointed out. “Why?” 

“Because that's the truth.”

It was only later, moments before he fell asleep that Arthur realized that his most important question had not been answered. Why had the Dragonlord called for his dragon now?

Next morning, Arthur made his way into Merlin’s room, where he found his manservant sleeping, curled into the bed and lightly snoring, the black of his hands was almost gone and the burn of his neck looked worse, but that was expected as it healed. His skin tone was back to normal and his breathing was deep and constant. Arthur felt himself relax at the good signs, soon Merlin would come back to work and he would be there and he would help Arthur sort through his everything that had happened. The dragon, Gaius revelation, his own doubts about the past week events. Everything.  Because it made no sense. Not at all, Morgana had been quiet ever since they had defeated her and Agravaine and placing cursed collars on them wasn’t her approach at all.  She tended to get her hands dirty, always had. There really was no explanation as to why they had been ambushed and captured and no one seemed to know the reason why. The only ones who seemed to have some idea about what was happening were the druids.

It took him no time at all to take the decision and even less time to decide that there was only one person who would accompany him and with Mordred by his side, the druids would have to provide answers.

Arthur and Mordred rode into the same clearing they had been into before. This time there were tents and hearts all around, the druids had also multiplied and Arthur could see kids running around the camp, the sound of their laughter and shouts loud enough to drown the sound of the horse hooves.  The children were also the ones that noticed them first, running towards the horses, disturbing the snow on the floor as they excitedly rushed towards Mordred.

“Brother Mordred! Brother Mordred!” They screamed until they found themselves standing in front of the horses. Mordred dismounted with a smile on his face and crouched down on the floor to receive the hugs of the excited children who proceed to throw themselves into the knight’s arms making him fumble and fall.

Arthur dismounted as he laughed at the horde of children overwhelming the younger man. His laugh made the children aware of his presence. The froze were they were and slowly all of them started waking away from him. Arthur frowned at the display.

“Brother?” a small voice asked, Arthur looked around for the source and found a small boy, no older than six summers, he was clutching Mordred’s cape with one hand and the hand of a smaller hooded child in the other and his tear-filled eyes were staring at Mordred, a look passed between them, Arthur could recognize the acknowledgment and understanding in the gaze. He wanted to protest, he wasn’t someone to fear, but he remained quiet, thinking back on a well and ribbons hanging from trees. 

“It's alright Lucian,” Mordred said, he smiled reassuringly at the children, they were still hiding behind him. Arthur clenched his jaw. “Aida is expecting us.”

“I will take you!” The child holding Lucian’s hand proclaims. The hood falls as Lucian tries to keep them next to him and the small burned face of a little girl is shown. She looks to be around five, her body so small and her hair so fine Arthur immediately recognizes the signs of past starvation.  He tries not to stare at the little girl's burns. They cover more than half her face and now that he knows to look, he can see that her hands are also marred with scars. The marks don’t look resent, and the accident that had caused them probably had happened years ago. Arthur can tell by the way they are stretched around the small girl's body.

“No, Anne, you have to stay here.” Lucian said.“Uncle will get mad.”

“I want to go,” Anne says as she tried to go towards Arthur only to be pulled once more by Lucian.

“No.”

“Let me go!” the girl screams as she scratches at Lucian’s hand.

“I said no!” Lucian says, Anne screams once more but this time her eyes shine molted gold as she pulls away from Lucian once more. This time she succeeds and runs towards Arthur. Lucian tries to go to her only to fall. “ANNE!” he screams in fear as he watches the little girl arrive at Arthur’s side.  He is staring wide-eyed at the little girl who is most to young to be practicing magic, but there is no denying the evidence when he can see perfectly well how Lucian is trying to come towards them only to fall over and over again to the amusement of Anne.  Arthur is staring at the little girl, at how her brown eyes change color over and over again as she squeals in laughter. He doesn’t notice he is about to touch her until Lucian screams once more. “Please! Don't hurt her!”  Arthur takes back his hand before it can make contact with Anne’s little body.

“I won’t,” Arthur says. He is confused and extremely troubled.  His jaw is clenching so his voice comes out more like a growl but he doesn’t care.  He knew his father had killed children during the purge, kids Uther had said were going to eventually develop magic since their parents had it. He had never seen a kid actually practicing magic, he had been led to believe that it took years of practice and tutelage for someone to even come close to invoke magic. In front of him, there was a child challenging all of those beliefs.

“Lucian,” Mordred said, the other children had left at some point during Lucian and Anne’s fight, Arthur hadn’t even noticed. “I promise nothing will happen to Anne. Arthur won’t do anything and even if he was, I wouldn’t let him. 

Lucian was crying and shaking but he still stood up and said. “I will go with you.”  he walked slowly until he was standing next to Mordred his weary eyes fixated on Arthur’s hands and sword.

Arthur nodded his approval and then turned to Anne, “Will you take us to Aida?” 

“Yes! Let's go.”  Anne walked ahead of them, occasionally glancing back, as if to make sure they were actually following her, her voice as she talked about the snow drew the attention of the other druids around the encampment, none approached them, but all of them remained quiet as they watched the son of their killer walk willingly and freely amongst them.

It was an eye opening experience to say at least. 

Anne guided them until they saw Aida, standing in front of a small tent mixing herbs, Anne was waving and smiling as she waved at Aida, Lucian remained quiet and subdued next to Mordred.

“Welcome, King Arthur, we were expecting you.”  Aida greets as she lowers the bowl of her hands. “Anne, Lucian, go to your Uncle.”

 “But!..”  Anne protest.

“But nothing Anne, go.”  Lucian takes her hand and together they walk away. Aida then turns and beckons Arthur to follow her inside the tent.

“You were expecting me?” Arthur asks as he follows Aida into the small tent, but once inside he is surprised to see that while the tent was small on the outside, it was not on the inside. Arthur had expected to see a small bedroll, maybe some extra clothes and some items needed when one lived on the run, instead he found twelve people sat in a circle on a tick carpet, all of them with a cup in their hands and when Arthur enters they all become quiet and turn to look at him.

“We were.” They all answer at the same time and then they gesture to an empty spot. “Mordred, child, leave.”  Mordred immediately makes to obey, but then he turns and looks at Arthur first. When Arthur nods his approval, Mordred leaves, making the cold air enter the warm tent. Arthur raised his eyebrow. He hadn't noticed how the cold didn’t seem to reach the inside of the tent. Aida sat next to him, her arms and legs crossed.  “King Arthur Pendragon, you have come because you have questions, you have come because we have the answers. Ask and we shall answer.”  The druids say, Aida huffs.

There were many things Arthur wanted to know, about the dragon, about the story Gaius had told him, about Mordred, about the collars, instead he asked something else “What happened to Anne?”

The druid’s open faces closed up and they didn’t speak for a long time and when they did, they did together. “Anne’s parents upon realizing she had magic set her on fire in an attempt to protect themselves and their other children from the evil of magic.” the word evil was practically spat.  “Anne was saved by Lucian and brought here to recuperate. That was two years ago. 

Arthur swallows back bile. His mind is turning and going around in circles, two years ago, his father was still alive, Morgana had recently made an attempt to seize the throne. His sister had just killed hundreds on her quest to the throne and her actions had reinforced Uther’s teachings: magic is evil and therefore it has to be eradicated from the kingdom. And thanks to this teachings a three-year-old girl had been nearly murdered by her parents, who were supposed to protect her and care for her. And Anne was still a happy girl, but when years passed who could assure Arthur that Anne wouldn’t grow bitter and hateful and use that hate to pave a path to revenge? That Anne wouldn’t grow to hate herself and her scars, hiding herself away? Anne’s life would forever be marked by the acts of her parents, acts they probably took because they had seen their king kill children for less.  His heartbeat was too fast. 

After some time had passed,  Arthur asked: “Tell me about the collars. What are they? Do you know who put it on us? Do you know why they did it?”

“We know.”  They said and once by one their eyes started turning gold, Arthur felt shivers running down his back and he could smell the magic gathering around him before he could see it.  A golden fog then started forming the shapes of the men who had placed the collars on them, exactly in the middle of the room giving Arthur a bird view of the events that happened on the chamber, he saw it all over again and as he did the druids talked.“Traitors of the druids, deserters of the Old Religion: The Tainted Ones. They use dark magic, they betray our rules and they decided that it was time to prove to the word that Arthur Pendragon was not the destined king, but they only proved how far they had strayed. They have been punished.” The fog then changed to portray another scene, the Tainted Ones turning into animals and then being set loose on the forest. “The Old Religion accepted our decision, the Old Religion did not like how they threatened you, so the Old Religion punished them.”  The fog disappeared after showing how the Tainted Ones as animals were being stalked by hunters. Arthur didn’t know how to feel about what he had seen, he only felt scared. He understood his father fears at that moment, but he also felt relieved, they wouldn’t hurt his friends again.   

“Tell me about the collars.”

“The cursed magic of the Rowan Collars.” They said in unison, the gold on their eyes had faded, but their voices had dropped in timber and some were shaking in fear.  “It sucks the soul out of a person.”

“What?” Arthur asks alarmed, but before he can talk again, the druids continue.

“Second by second, piece by piece, the Rowan Collar sucks the soul out of me.”  The druids chanted again.  “A curse as old as magic, and magic as old as curse, gold against black, dark against light. One dies and one lives and there is never one without the other.” Arthur opened his mouth again, only to be interrupted once more.  “Second by second, piece by piece, the Rowan Collars sucks the magic out of me” the druids chanted. Arthur’s eyes widen. He had expected something like that, Gaius had said that the dragon had been chained with rowan.  “A curse as old as time, time as old as a curse, courage, and fear without end. The Rowan Collar is coming for me.”  The druid’s voices grew louder and more shrill.  “Second by second, piece by piece, the Rowan Collars suck the life out of me. An evil as old as light, light as old as evil, life and death together at last, good against evil, evil against good forever.”  And with that, the druids quieted and looked at Arthur with knowing eyes. They had sensed his fear.

“I still don’t understand.” Arthur proclaims.

“The Rowan Collar, it's dark magic,” Aida explains. “There is rhyme, we tell them to the children: ‘cold iron, to bind them and the ashes of a rowan, to guard me.’  It was supposed to be used for protection against the fae, but then the magic of the collars was corrupted, we don’t know how or why. Now, all the collar does is poison a person from the inside, if they meet certain criteria: if a person has magic, the poison is fast acting, if the person has evil on their core it takes longer but it eventually kills you, if you are good and pure-hearted the curse of the collar is made null and you are safe from its poison. The Tainted Ones expected the collar to slowly kill you, but you proved yourself to be good and therefore confirmed to all of us what we already knew.”

“And what was that?”

“That the Old Religion is wise and it made a good decision when it chose you, Arthur Pendragon, Son of Uther Pendragon and Ygraine DuBois to be the Once and Future King, the man destined to guide Albion into a new era.”

Arthur was struck speechless, there was too much information running in circles on his mind, too many things to focus on. What did it even mean? Once and Future? Why did it matter? And what was going on with the Old Religion? Was it cruel or merciful or something else entirely? The druids talked about it as if it was alive, but Arthur knew that the Old Religion was merely the name they gave to the way they worshiped their gods, like the Christians, called their religion Christianity, but they didn’t venerate Christianity, they venerated god  and they certainly didn’t talk about Christianity like it was sentient thing.  His mind couldn’t quiet down. And what about Merlin and Mordred who had been affected by the collar? What did that mean? What did anything mean? And also what about the dragon? It was to much. His hands were shaking and he made fist with them to try to hide it. The druids still saw. 

“It is as Aida says.” The druids said “Go, King Arthur, return to your home and remember your promise; have us present in the future.” Aida had to help him stand.

Outside the tent, Mordred was talking quietly with Lucian and Aida, and once he saw Arthur he smiled only to then frown.  He turned to glare at Aida as if chastening her for returning his King pale and shaking. 

“Mordred, my child, go and take our King home,”  Aida commands. Mordred rushes towards Arthur and extends his hand, waiting for his King to take it. Arthur decides that this comfort, this show of weakness, is not an option. Even though right now, the only thing he wants to do is take Mordred’s arm and be rushed towards Camelot, to Merlin. He straightness and shakes his head at Mordred’s offer and he walks by his own merit towards his horse. Before he mounts it, he turns and expects to see the same fear as before on the druid’s eyes but he turns and he sees the faces of his people, of druids, criminals by law, victims of a massacre and he sees only hope.

The ride back home is eerily quiet, Arthur turns around constantly when he sees a flash of black and red on his periphery always expecting to see Merlin only to see Mordred, but the ride gives him time to think back to all that he has learned in the past days. About Camelot’s dishonorable history, of Balinor and Gaius relationship, about the fact that there is a Dragonlord living in Camelot, about how he, Arthur Pendragon, is considered by the druids a destined King, most of all it gives him time to think about the collars. He keeps turning to Mordred as he draws conclusions: the collars kills slowly if you are evil (what does evil even mean? Did the collar have its own moral code? Did it depend on the general people’s opinion or on the wearer’s? Maybe it was the own caster’s moral code?), it did nothing if you are good, his knights were good, he himself was good according to the mysterious owner of the moral code, they had suffered no adverse consequences. It kills you faster if you have magic.

The last one was the one Arthur kept getting back too. There was only one conclusion to be reached, one that Arthur refused to even look into because he knew; the moment Aida had talked about what the collar did to magic users he knew. But acknowledging it made it true, it made Merlin and Mordred liars and traitors, made them criminals, worse, it made them dead men walking.

So, he kept quiet and he kept glancing back at Mordred. Because Mordred was magic and Arthur was alone with a sorcerer who had sworn his loyalty to the crown Arthur wore, and Arthur was not afraid.

He kept quiet and thought of Merlin and instead of the rush of emotion he was used to feeling when he thought about the blue-eyed man, he felt empty, and that made him angry. He had known and loved Merlin for eight years and during those years Merlin had done nothing but lie to him. He understood perfectly why Merlin had said nothing at the beginning, Uther was King, but then Arthur was made King, Merlin could have come forward to talk to him about his magic at any moment in time. Maybe not right after his father’s death, but already two years have passed since. So why did Merlin kept hiding? A painful stab on his heart brought with it the realization: Merlin really thought Arthur would punish him for something he was born with.

Merlin had lied in more ways than one it seemed. Not only had he hid his magic and sequentially lied about anything related to it, but everything he said about Arthur being a good man, a good king wasn’t true, it had never been something Merlin believed in and that meant that the man Arthur was, the king he was, was built on a lie.  Merlin’s belief in Arthur was what changed him, was what turned Arthur into the man he was and it was just a mirage. Something so easily broken. It crushed him more than Morgana’s betrayal. And thinking about Morgana’s actions only remained him that the only reason he was able to trust himself, able to believe in himself during Camelot’s hour of need was thanks to the words and actions of a pretender.

Merlin was a liar and that meant that everything Arthur was, was a lie. 

Chapter Text

Merlin is going crazy inside his rooms.

He knows Arthur is gone, that the King is not in the castle or the citadel or even the lower town, he knows deep in his bones that Arthur left. His magic has been entirely to restless and the castle lost some of its shine and luster.  Camelot's magic has always been incredibly attuned to Arthur, always trying to show off how pretty it is, how much it keeps the castle from breaking apart at their feet. It only seemed to preen when Arthur was in its vicinity and not that many people would notice how Camelot shone with happiness when its King walked through its halls, it was something Merlin thought only powerful magic users would ever come close to spot, but he couldn't be certain.

But yes, Arthur was gone, Merlin couldn't walk more than twenty steps before needing to sit and he was equal parts bored and worried. Arthur had been gone even before he woke up and Gaius had told him all about Killgarah's visit. He didn't know why the dragon had come, he hadn't called him, he would have never called him to Camelot. But Merlin knew for a fact that he was the only Dragonlord left and that meant that if he wanted answers he had to go meet Killgarah, but he couldn't walk across the room, never mind riding. If Lancelot were here…

Something inside Merlin ached at the reminder, he was trying not to think about it, about meeting Lancelot on the road or rather the pale imitation of his friend, but it was difficult to ignore. But out of all that had happened, the most difficult to ignore was his eyes. 

Merlin could feel his magic fighting back the curse, he could feel it rushing all over his body as it drowned out the evil that the collar had left on him, a fight that could only be glimpsed by others by the way his eyes changed color. Gaius explanation was good, the magic of the key could perfectly explain what was going on, but he was still worried. He wanted to know who had done this to him, he wanted to go after them and punish them for daring to cut him off his magic and he wanted to sleep and to see Arthur. Instead, he saw Gwen. 

The Queen of Camelot came into the room dressed in comfortable and modest clothes, something in a style that Merlin was not used to seeing her in but that suited her more than her servant and queen clothes ever did.  She was carrying a bucket and there are two guards following her, trying to take it out of her hands even as she protests and enters the room.

"Gwen, just let them help," Merlin says with a smile, the guards give him a grateful smile as they finally take the bucket out of their queen's hands.  Gwen predictability complains and mumbles something about having been carrying buckets like that since she was ten. But when she sees Merlin standing she rushes towards him and gives him a totally inappropriate hug for a married woman, but Merlin knows that Arthur wouldn't care. He is never jealous of Merlin and Gwen's relationship.

"You are awake!"  She proclaims in excitement, her nose furrows. "And in need of a bath."  She turns to the guards and asks for one to be brought to the room over Merlin's protests.  She then makes Merlin sit and starts talking and rambling about everything Merlin missed during his ‘indisposition' as Gwen called it.  They wait together until the servants fill in the tub and Gwen shamelessly stays were she is seated as Merlin undresses to get into the bath. Merlin feels no shame in this. Gwen has worked for long as a maid and during a crisis, she could always be found helping Gaius, there was no sense in being ashamed on his nudity.

Gwen had been right, Merlin needed a bath and more than just for being clean. The bath helped relax his muscles and soothe the ache on his ankle and it felt really nice to be soaking in warm water, he didn't look forward to exiting the heat, but at least, for now, he could enjoy it.  

Gwen continued to talk to him as she tidied up the place, moving around with familiarity. Her presence brought both comfort and misery. She was his closest friend but she was also a terrible reminder of almost everything bad that is going on his life.

She was Gwen, but she also was the closest person to Morgana that still remained on Camelot, she was his friend, but she also was the person Lancelot had loved the most, she was the queen, but she was also a reminder that everyone in Merlin's life was moving on and he remained the same: a servant. She was the wife of Merlin's best friend, but she was also the wife of the love of Merlin's life.  Yes, Merlin loved Gwen, but he despised her presence sometimes.

Today, as Merlin bathed, he refused to focus on the negative and just enjoyed Gwen's presence, letting it distract him from his magic and Arthur's absence until he felt like he was floating, his eyelids felt extremely heavy and it was so troublesome to open them after blinking.

"Merlin?" he heard Gwen ask, but she seems so far away. "Merlin!"  Merlin tried to reply but his mouth didn't want to work, he felt himself floating more and more. In some part of his brain he can see what was going on, he could see Gwen frantically ask the guards that always followed her for help, she could feel her keeping his head above the water as the guards rush in to carry him out of the tub, he can hear one of them running out of the room, probably looking for Gaius. The same part of his brain that can process what is happening is panicking, its screaming and banging against the haze and tranquility that had suddenly enfolded him, but there is nothing he can do but let the guards carry him to bed and letting himself be dressed by unfamiliar hands.

Gaius arrived shortly after, he inspected Merlin with careful hands, taking great interest in his eyes and hands, he gave him an extra blanket and sat next to him in the bed, taking in his pulse. Gaius hand on his wrist was the last thing Merlin remembered before the haze took over him.

When he arrived at the castle, Arthur immediately made his way towards Gaius's rooms, as angry and wrenched as he felt, he still wanted to see Merlin. He missed Merlin terribly and he genuinely wanted to see him regain his health, both so that Merlin could be well and so that Arthur could actually do something about the magic, about the lies.

He expected to see Merlin resting in his bed, maybe with a book propped open on his lap as Merlin devoured the information contained within its fragile pages. Instead, he saw Gaius exiting Merlin's room with a frown on his face. Guinevere exited the room after him. She was playing with one of the rings on her hand, the same way Arthur played with his mother's ring.

"What happened?" He asked because in their faces he could see fear and in their postures preoccupation.

"Merlin's health took a turn for the worse," Gaius explains. Arthur's heart stops beating, his stomach twist and he fears that what little food he had is about to make its way out of his body."His fever is back and he is having trouble breathing. I already gave him some tonics that I hope will help, but we can't be sure until tomorrow." Arthur's heart starts beating again, too fast and hard against his chest and he feels like something is punching him repeatedly on the gut as he gazes into the room where Merlin is fighting for his life once more.  

"Can I see him?"  He asks and his voice trembles in fear.

"Yes."  Gaius permits and Arthur tries to gulp, but his mouth is to dry and he feels like he is choking.  He walks past them, his back straight and his hands shaking, Gwen catches one of his hands before he goes up the stairs and squeezes it in a show of support and comfort and then he enters Merlin's rooms.

Merlin is bundled up in blankets and there is a wet rag on his forehead, he is restlessly moving on the bed, making his best efforts to dislodge the rag of his forehead, his eyelids are fluttering and Arthur can see the gold light of his eyes reflected on Merlin cheekbones and he not only can smell and feel the magic, but he can actually see the magic coming out of Merlin in waves and tendrils, reaching towards him in a show of light and power that mesmerized Arthur. 

Arthur had never felt as stupid as he did that moment. How could he miss this? Miss the way the magic could envelop Merlin so completely, the way it seemed to be coming from deep within him and reached outwards and forward, trying to fill every available space. And the magic, even though it was the first time he had seen it, felt so incredibly familiar, it felt like a protector, a friend, like home. It felt like Merlin. 

The tendrils reached him and when they touched Arthur, they felt like love, they started brushing his hair and arranging his cape, Arthur could feel them checking for injury and he could feel (god, he could feel) how happy and relieved they were that Arthur was back. And if Merlin's magic was so excited with his simple presence, if something that was so surely Merlin, something that, according to the druids was Merlin's soul cared so deeply for Arthur it meant that Merlin did as well.

"Damn you, Merlin,"  Arthur says out loud, there are tears gathering in his eyes. "Damn you,"  he says brokenly, his tears falling, the magic tendrils wipe his tears away and he huffs out a laugh.

He goes and sits next to Merlin and like so many times before, he takes Merlin hand on his and waits.

He distracts himself by seeing the tendrils moving around the room, they constantly tap against the window and door, trying to get out, but they never do, they find missing socks behind the bed and they make figures with the dust that was behind the cabinets. As Arthur watches and thinks about the playful magic he wants to slap his own forehead.  When they had opened the collars, Merlin's was the only one that actually reacted. There had been lights swirling and the room had actually gone dark even when the mid-morning sun had been shining, he had chalked it up to the key and collar's magic fighting against each other, but know that he thought back to it, that beautiful show of lights and power, it had all come from Merlin.

So much had happened in the last few days, Arthur didn't know in what he should focus, there were many things. His normal duties only added to his burden. He had so much to focus on: Merlin and Mordred's magic, the dragon and Dragonlord's presence in Camelot, the druid's loyalty and the whole Once and Future King business, he was walking on thin ice, and the person who normally helped him found more sturdy ground was lying on the bed in front of him unconscious and practicing magic in his sleep. Arthur was completely out of his depth, completely overwhelmed and he felt like he was drowning. Always drowning. He was so tired and worried and just… he just wanted to rest.

"Damn you."  Arthurs whispers once more, this time the tendrils wrap around his wrist in a comforting gesture, they all gather around him and they stay with him while he cries.

Merlin's fever remains for one day, and when he wakes up, there are no more colors chasing each other on his eyes. There is no more black on his hands and there is no gold lighting up his face.  He is still weak and it takes time for him to even speak, his thoughts muddled, but he is alright, and Gaius thinks this was the last of it and Merlin doesn't care about any of that because Arthur hasn't come to see him.

He knows Arthur is back. His magic has been calm and normal for the first time in a long time, he also knows Gaius went to Arthur and told him that Merlin was fine once more, but he hadn't come. What Merlin didn't know was why it bothered him so much that the King hasn't come to visit his servant on his sick bed, but it did.  All the knights, some servants, and even the Queen had come to visit him, but not Arthur. 

He is still too tired to move to go looking for him, so he waits in bed for the blond but he never comes.

 He has to stay in bed for the next two days, regaining his sapped strength as well as control of his magic.  Mordred visits him the day he can finally walk the length of Gaius rooms without needing to stop every few steps.  The younger man is frowning when he enters and his frown deepens when he sees Merlin standing in the middle of the room.

"What did you do? "the druid asks and he is glaring. Merlin makes the appropriate confused face so that Mordred can know that Merlin does definitely not know what the knight means. "With Arthur." Merlin makes another face. Mordred sighs in response, completely done with Merlin. "He screamed at Gwaine and..."

"That happens every time Gwaine opens his mouth." Merlin interrupts, Mordred glares once more.

"He completely destroyed one of the training dummies..."  Mordred continues and Merlin winces and then says

"He tends to do that when he is angry and hungry at the same time"

"He broke one of the training swords."  Oh… that was bad. "He punched, actually punched one of the new knights."  Merlin winced again, this keeps getting better. "He actually snapped at Leon."  Yes, it keeps getting better. "So, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Merlin says, he doesn't even know why Arthur is so mad and desperate, he tends to go to violence and anger when he has other feelings because that is the way he had been thought. The only emotion a Pendragon man was allowed to feel was anger.  Normally Arthur was a lot more open with Merlin, but he hadn't come to talk.

"Emrys!"  Mordred says and his druid title lacks the usual reverence in which Mordred would say it.

"How could I? He hasn't come to see me." Merlin snaps in turn and if his voice cracks no one would ever mention it, he can feel his magic burning in his eyes as his barely controlled magic reacts to his emotions. A nearby pot brakes and Mordred turns in wide-eyed surprise towards it.

‘You are not in control of your magic.'

"I know." Merlin sighs. "Ever since they took the collar off, it's been going crazy. I was meaning to talk to the dragon about it but I haven't got the chance."

"I had forgotten about that." Mordred admits "You called him when you were unconscious."  

Merlin glares. "I have been going nuts thinking there was another Dragonlord roaming around Camelot, couldn't you, I don't know, have mentioned before?"

Mordred laughs. "If you want, I can go with you."  Merlin knows that he is trying to pretend like the answer wouldn't bother him, but Merlin can hear the excitement and hope that Mordred so desperately is trying to conceal.

"I don't think that is a good idea… the dragon is not exactly friendly to other magic users." Merlin says and he thinks about the dragon's words about Morgana and Gaius and even the warning he often gave Merlin about Mordred himself. "He was grown too bitter and even afraid of others, he tolerates my presence just because I am Ermys and because of my father's inheritance. I am afraid that if you came you could be in danger and I wouldn't be able to protect you."

‘I can protect myself' Mordred proclaims indignant, in his anger recurring to the Druid's silent speech.  Merlin for the first time in a long time, replies in kind, and his voice is gentle when he does. 

‘Not from the rage of a dragon.'

‘I can still help! I promise I will stay hidden, please Merlin.' at that moment Mordred reminds Merlin of the kid he had been, reminds him of the way he had trembled in fear while hiding on Morgana's rooms and he feels such love and fear for him, of him, at that moment that he agrees.

They sneak out of the castle when the sun disappears, Merlin leaning heavily on Mordred as they make their way to the stables, they are so concentrated on not making noise that they don't notice a caped figure following close by.

 Arthur is not happy. (He isn't sad either no matter what Gwen says.)

He feels only angry and despotate and the need to hit something. It doesn't go away by night, and it definitely does not go away while he follows Merlin and Mordred through the forest while the temperature drops and one of them can't even walk on his own. And honestly what was the king of Camelot doing following two sorcerers in the middle of the night without any company or guard?

But never mind that, because Arthur still followed them for miles in his horse and they never even noticed. Arthur would have to up Mordred's training, this was unacceptable.

A particularly vicious gust of wind made Arthur shiver, the cloak he was wearing not enough protection for the cold, but there was nothing he could do about it now. So he followed the sorcerers until they reached a familiar clearing, Arthur's heart pounded.

Merlin and Mordred dismounted and walked just ten steps outside the treeline before Mordred rushed towards Merlin to help him walk after the older man had stumbled. Arthur stayed inside the treeline, far away enough from where the sorcerer's horses were that they wouldn't see him when they returned, but still close enough to see what was going on.  

He was waiting for many different things, for Morgana to appear out of the cover of darkness, for them to start chanting and casting and doing something with their magic. Instead, Merlin extended his hand and a small circle cleared of snow and as Alec had done, he made a fire burn without a kindle. Mordred made Merlin sit and then they talked amongst themselves. For what felt like hours. Then, like a startled animal, Merlin rushed to be on his feet and then he threw his face back and roared . Arthur could feel the vibrations of his voice all the way from where he was hiding. Then Merlin nodded to himself and sat down as if nothing had happened.

Arthur was open mouthed as he tried to regain the feeling of his fingers. He was used to feeling and smelling magic, it was something he had always been able to do but this was nothing like the usual sensations.  Instead of the shivers down his spine and the natural, musky scent the magic always brought with it, he felt as if something was rushing all around him, instead of feeling it creeping on his arms and legs, he felt as is somehow it was being pulled. And he could guess to were it was going. And the smell. It smelled like fire and light and raw power. It was as astonishing as it was scary.

Arthur held his breath, waiting for something to happen when nothing did, he stopped to think. If Merlin's magic was so powerful, so different, how come he had never felt it before?  He tried to think back to a moment in his life that he had felt such power and drew a blank. Even Morgana's didn't feel like this and she was the most powerful witch he had met and if Arthur understood something out of all that had happened was that Merlin's soul was his magic and if he had never felt or sensed it did it mean that he had never sensed Merlin?

Arthur was getting really tired of feeling like he didn't know the man he loved.

He didn't know what it was but something was suddenly different, there was a small change in the air, maybe it was the wind picking up, but his warrior senses alerted him that something was going on. It was confirmed when both Merlin and Mordred got to their feet. Merlin with a small smile and Mordred looking towards the sky and the tree line. They were clearly waiting for something and that something makes its presence known fairly quickly.

The Great Dragon landed mere inches from where Merlin was standing and bowed at the presence of his Dragonlord and Arthur almost slapped his own forehead once more. Of course, Merlin was the descendant of Balinor, of course, he was the reason the dragon had left and he was probably the reason it had gone the first time. 

The dragon's booming voice reached all the way to where he was, its voice animalistic but at the same time, it sounds exactly like a human would.  "Young Warlock." It greeted. "I see you have brought company." Arthur couldn't hear what Merlin replayed, but he pointed to Mordred so he assumed he was introducing them. "The druid boy." The dragon spat. Merlin pointed his finger at the dragon admonishing it. The dragon's fire eyes focused on Mordred, the druid paled, and then its eyes turned to Merlin, who didn't seem to care that he had the full gaze of an angry dragon on him.  "You called me, I answered but you did not appear. Explain yourself." the dragon ordered. Arthur could see Merlin chuckled before answering, Merlin talked for a long time. "Rowan." the dragon said and its eyes seemed to glow in the dark. Merlin needed to assure the dragon that he was fine and then he continued to talk to it. Arthur didn't know how long it was before Merlin stopped talking, he couldn't feel his fingers or toes and he was pretty sure there was ice forming on his hair, but he stayed still.  The dragon seemed to be satisfied with Merlin's response. "It seems, young warlock, that trouble has found you once more, but this time I believe it will have a good outcome. Albion's Golden Age is closer than before." And then the dragon flapped its wings and took off, blowing out the fire in the process. Mordred turned to talk to Merlin who nodded and then they made their way back to their horses, riding off.

Arthur stayed for a little while longer, his eyes fixed on the spot Merlin and Mordred had left. Nothing had happened, Merlin had just talked to a dragon and Mordred had been there, but they had done nothing. Arthur sighed in relief, he was just turning his horse when a voice stopped him.

"Young Pendragon." The dragon's voice sent a shiver down Arthur's neck. He glanced up, and he saw the dragon make its landing in the spot it had just left.  "It seems there is much in your mind." Arthur dismounted and walked carefully towards the dragon. He kept his sword shattered, but his hand was in the pommel, ready in case anything happened.  The dragon watched him as he walked, the fire in his eyes diminished. "You are troubled, your mind is full and there is no one you can ask for the answer to your questions."

Arthur nodded.

"I will only answer one."

"Will you answer truthfully?" Arthur asked, "Can I trust the enemy of my father to honor his word?"  The dragon chuckled.

"I give you my word, Once and Future." The dragon said before it bowed to Arthur. The weight of the promise settled comfortably on  Arthur's chest and he knew the dragon would keep his word.

Arthur spent a long time thinking about his question, he had to choose the right one, one that would help solve all of his internal turmoil, that would guide him in the right direction, but he comes up blank, there are many things he wants to know, all of them require the same level of attention, there were many directions, many topics, ask about Mordred or Merlin or Morgana, about Camelot, about the Old Religion, about his promise to the druids and its meaning, he could ask about the Once and Future King stuff or about Albion's Golden Age and what it meant. There were so many things.

"Tell me what is the most important thing I should know."  Arthur orders. The dragon seemed surprised by the order, but it smiled.

"You should know about Emrys and the way he protects his king."  The Dragon answers and he is turning to leave when Arthur interrupts him.

"Who is Emrys?"

"I answered your question, Young Pendragon, you get nothing more from me." The Dragon said. It was Arthur's turn to smile. He hadn't thought he would be able to outsmart the dragon.

"I did not ask, I ordered you to tell me, and you did. And now I am asking: Who is Emrys?"   The dragon's fire eyes flash in anger when it realizes its mistake and it pins its eyes to Arthur's. And like before Arthur gets the feeling that the dragon is looking behind his soul, but this time it doesn't bother him, the weight of the dragon's promise protecting him. Arthur squares his back and waits.  

"Emrys is your closest ally, he is the other side of your coin, both of you share a destiny that has been predicted since the beginning of time, he will bring back magic to a long-starved land and you will rule and lead this land, Albion, into an era of prosperity were magic and people coexist as it was and as it should be. He also is magic, he is your most loyal follower, but he is not someone beneath you. Emrys is the Beast Slayer, The Protector. Emrys is someone you know, someone you love and...

"And Merlin is Emrys." Arthur finishes for the dragon.  The dragon startles at the interruption. It looks surprised. Arthur just raises one of his eyebrows. The dragon seems pleased with itself as it nods.

"You surprise me, Young Pendragon, you are not as I expected. It seems like the Old Religion has proved to be wiser than I remembered." And with that Killgarah takes flight and does not return.  

Arthur's eyes remain fixed on his figure as it becomes smaller and smaller until its completely gone. He turns to his horse and mounts it and he rides home.

When Arthur arrives, he goes directly to Gwen's rooms. Her room is close by and he would normally not disturb her in the night without talking to her about it beforehand, but he knows his room is going to be cold, the fire has died out hours ago, and he would like the company.  

He expects to see his wife deep in her sleep, instead, there are some candles burning brightly close to her bed, Arthur sees her carefully close the book she was reading before turning to look at Arthur. There is a sleepy feeling to her and she looks warm. Arthur hates to disturb her, and he makes to turn back to his room but Gwen gets out of the bed, she approaches Arthur and helps him get undressed. There is nothing sexual about her touch, and the simple feeling of her warmth close by helps settle his excess energy. She undressed him and then guides him to the bed where he lays down on the side of the bed closest to the door, and she comes close to him and lays on his chest and then just says there, giving Arthur back the warmth he so desperately needed.

She waits for him to talk. When he does his voice is so quiet it's difficult to know if she will hear him but he doesn't raise it. He tells her about everything that happened, before and after, about his discoveries and his fears and he feels her tense up when he tells her different parts of the story but she stays where she is, hearing Arthur's heart calm and his breathing evening out.

And then she asks "What will we do?" But Arthur is too tired to think about tomorrow so he responds by kissing the top of her head and settling down to sleep.

They are awoken by a particular knock on the door, that is both familiar and jarring. Merlin never knocks when he enters the king or queen's room but he always does when he knows that they are together. He still enters before any of them give him permission. Two of Gwen's maids follow him, their arms are loaded with food and they carefully set the table, Merlin is carrying firewood appearing to the world like he hadn't just been sick and gallivanting in the woods to meet a dragon.

"Merlin." Gwen says, "You should be resting."

Merlin just smiles at her and starts tending the fire.  Gwen rolls her eyes at the display and gets up to change. The maids rush to her and help her. The dress she chooses to wear that day is one of Arthur's favorites. Once she is ready she goes to the table where the food is placed and takes one of the pastries, the maids leave bowing towards the queen, ignoring the fact that Arthur refuses to leave the bed until the fire cuts the cruel chill that has taken residence on his bones.  

He is about to fall asleep once more when he hears the door banging open. He opens his eyes to see Merlin exiting the room. He comes back moments later, with clothes on his arms and Arthur assumes they are his. He rolls in the bed, turning his back to Merlin. 

"No" he growls. Merlin laughs and takes the covers in his hands and removes them from the King. After that Arthur has no choice but to stand and dress and face the day.  He and Gwen have yet to come up with a decision about the magic, Merlin, Mordred and everything else the had happened. Arthur dresses and when he is shivering in his clothes Merlin gives him some mulled wine to warm up. The cup is warm in his hands, and at the first sip, he can feel the warmth traveling on his body.  He gave an appreciative hum and then sat next to Gwen, who was smiling, but there were dark circles under her eyes, indicating that her sleep hadn't been as profound as Arthur's. But she was smiling at Merlin, and there was no fear on her eyes and she still was worried about Merlin and that, more than anything, made the decision for him.

"Merlin." He begins and stops because he doesn't know how to breach this subject, how to tell him that he knows about him. About Merlin's magic and his secret and his lies, that Arthur knows that he carries the burden of a role he was born into and that he is willing to share it, he doesn't know how to tell Merlin that he understands but he is still so angry and guilty, that he feels like he is drowning. How do you tell someone you thought you knew completely that you have found out that you didn't? Arthur didn't know how to tell him he was sorry but also so fucking angry because, after all, how did you tell someone you loved them but you hated them too?

Merlin is staring at him, his eyes are blue and there is no gold or black, his neck it's still red and the color matches the imprint the key had left on Arthur's hand, they are both healing, but it's a constant reminder of what they both had lost. And Arthur for a moment considers not saying anything, staying like they are, Merlin lying and Arthur pretending he doesn't notice, but then he remembers the magic tendrils that had so lovely comforted him and denounces the idea.

"Merlin," he says again, unnecessarily since he has the man's attention. Gwen seems to guess what is going on and she places down the fork she was eating with and waits. "I- We, want to talk to you about something."  Merlin nods and then takes a sit. Arthur rolls his eyes, but he still feels like his heart is trying to get out of his chest. Merlin is raising his eyebrows, encouraging to Arthur to talk. Arthur takes a deep breath and says "I know you have magic" at the same exact time Merlin says "Gwen is pregnant."

They both look surprised by each other statements.

"What? No." Arthur answers. Gwen has an open mouth but she says nothing.

"What?" Merlin screams. And then he is rushing to explain himself, Arthur just gets some words out off his ramblings, sorry is repeated constantly for you is also said often, but Arthur has no patience for excuses or explanations. He has something to say and Merlin, for the first time in his life, is going to listen.

"I know you have magic."  He repeats. "And I don't know what to do about it." He knows he chose the wrong words when Merlin's face turns hard and his eyes cold. There is fury in his mouth when it clenches before opening.

"There is nothing to do about it." Merlin snaps. "Magic is part of me, having that collar on nearly killed me. Just because you want to…"

Merlin is still talking when Arthur starts talking over him. "I don't know what to do about your magic, Merlin , because aside from the fact that I know you have it and that apparently you are a dragonlord, and I promise we will talk about that funny tidbit, I don't know anything else."  This helps shut Merlin up, who now looks like a fish with his gaping mouth. The silence in the room lasts for some moments before Arthur continues. "You have to tell me because I don't even know if what I know is true."  Merlin nods.

"What do you want to know?"  There is something detached on Merlin's voice as he answers the queen and kings question. He seems to be telling the story as if it had happened to someone else. When asked about Killgarha, he tells the story as if it had been a simple thing, as if it was as simple as going from point A to C, without making any stops at B.  Arthur doesn't know how he feels about it, about the fact that Merlin's actions led to an enormous amount of death. It wasn't completely Merlin's fault, after all, it was the dragon who choose to attack Camelot. He talks about an enchanted sword, its real origin, and its meaning. When asked about Morgana, he talked about poisoning her and standing back watching as she went mad with fear. He talks about his disguise as Dragoon and his role as Emrys and how he used both as a shield to save Arthur and to kill anonymously. The longer Merlin talks in his cold voice the more Arthur's thoughts become clearer and focused. He had been right, he didn't know Merlin at all.  The anonymous killer, the secret protector, the silent watcher, all of the parts of Merlin, all of them unknown to Arthur.

When Merlin has finished telling his story, finished telling them about his magic and how it made him different, made him powerful and the stuff of legend, about the times he killed and was almost killed in turn, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and when he opens them, they are shining gold. Arthur feels the magic responding. It's nothing like the time with the dragon, or even with the tendrils. The magic Merlin is practicing now is subtler, almost unnoticed, but it's definitely there. Still terribly familiar and incredibly powerful, but there is certain finesse in the way the magic gathers and obeys Merlin, more like an extension of his body than a tool that you had to practice. Nothing is happening in the room, there are no signs of the magic acting or doing anything. But it waits patiently and eagerly around Merlin. And once more, Arthur learns more about Merlin than he previously known. The dragon had said that Emrys was magic, and here is the proof.

Merlin turns gold eyed to Arthur and smiles, Arthur's heart missing a beat at the sight.

It's not even midday, but Arthur orders a servant to bring him ale, mead, and wine to his rooms. Gwen is also in them, carefully cleaning like she tends to do when she is nervous or preoccupied.  Merlin had left them to talk, despite appearances the man was still recovering from the collar's curse. But it's fine. Because Arthur is planning to get completely drunk.

Before dinner comes, he has drunk enough that he had lost the ability to use his legs, Gwen had left and come back and she is sitting next to him on the floor. She has his hand on hers and she is playing with Arthur's ring. She also had something to drink and she is drunker than she lets on.

"I don't know what to do," Arthur admits, and Gwen hums

"We could legalize magic." Gwen proposes, her voice is as soft as her dress and there is no reprimand, no obligation or expectation

"No, not about that. I was already planning to do that." Arthur slurs. "About Merlin." Gwen hums once more. "I hate him, Gwen. I hate him. He lied so much." There are tears in his voice, and they are so close to getting to his eyes, but Arthur refuses to cry in front of someone else.

"I know love, I know. But you also love him enough to forgive him for it."  Arthur nods. Gwen gives him a chaste kiss on the lips, and she makes to return to her previous position, but Arthur moves her until she is sitting on his lap.  

"I thought I knew him," Arthur whispers, his head lying on Gwen's chest.

"You know the important parts." Gwen reminds him. She places her hands on Arthur's face and makes him look up to her. "You know about his love and devotion." She whispers and kisses him again. "You know about his loyalty and that he hated lying."  Arthur turns to meet her with a kiss, and moves his hands to grip her legs, and brings her closer. "Merlin loves you. And that is all that matters." She says and they kiss once more. This time they don't stop.

The next morning, Arthur is awake long before dawn, his head is pounding but that is something easily ignored, he slowly detangles himself from Gwen's embrace and goes to dress.

He walks around the castle, preoccupied enough that the servants already making their way to their post don't even bother to bow, they know Arthur doesn't care either way. He walks and tries to pay attention to what is happening around him, about the way some of the stones in the courtyard are loose, some of the candlesticks either empty or with the candle almost completely burn out, he sees were the guards patrolling at night might have to go more often, and he does all of this trying to distract himself. Because what he told Gwen the night before was true, he hates Merlin so much for lying and he is sure that he has to do something about it before the hate grows bitter instead of hurt, but he can't decide on what or even how to approach the subject with Merlin.

They don't talk about emotions, they hide their feeling behind their banter and when they sometimes do shine true, it's usually because they are riding to their presumed death or one of them is actually already in mortal danger, and those moments are brushed aside as if they had never happened, completely ignored but for when they are cherished and admired during the night.  He had no idea of what to do. They had cleared the air about the magic, about who Merlin really was, and for the moment that would have to be enough.

Merlin didn't know how he felt.

Arthur and Gwen knew about his magic, about his lies. They were aware of how he was a criminal and how he had broken the law over and over again and there had been no consequences. He had just told Arthur and Gwen his deepest regrets, had bared himself and been completely open to them and nothing bad had happened.

He felt relieved, happy and he felt like he had lost something that had been weighing him down for years. He wasn't dead. But nothing had really changed. They talked about his magic, about his role as a warlock, not about the others. There had been no discussion about what would happen to the other magic users. And it made him doubt if what had happened had actually been as good as he imagined or if the King and Queen were biding their time to do something about the traitor in their mist. He quickly felt shame at the thought. Arthur would never do something so dishonorable and it wouldn't have even crossed Gwen's mind.  

He would have to think about it later, the ride yesterday to meet Kilgharrah and his early morning wake up call had drained him of more energy than he would have thought possible and he needed to recuperate. Sleeping and eating were the only possible solution and he spent the day doing exactly that.

He wakes up just before dawn and dresses himself, he still has time before he has to complete his duties and a walk along the castle would help clear up his head, something that he desperately needed because he still doesn't know how he felt about the fact that his deepest secret had been revealed and no one was rushing to kill him, or that Arthur hadn't sent him away. Come to think about it, Arthur had done nothing at all. He had just heard what Merlin had said and he had remained calm during it, hadn't raised his voice or done anything to condemn Merlin's actions. It made absolutely no sense that Arthur hadn't reacted while Merlin told him about his past sins and accomplishments, but then he remembered what Mordred had said about Arthur acting strange and difficult during the past days, the druid had even insinuated that the fault lay on Merlin and maybe it was true, maybe the reason Arthur had been acting strange and careless had to do with the fact that  he had already known about Merlin's magic. But, why hadn't Arthur said anything before? And as a matter of fact, how had Arthur found out? That particular piece of information had been missing from their discussion.

Merlin pondered on what they hadn't discussed while he walked towards the kitchens, taking the long route through the stairs and passages instead of the faster one though the servant stairs. Sometimes, if he went to the kitchens at the exact right time, the cook would give him some of the freshly baked bread, but if he came a little early she would put Merlin to work, if he came too late, she would scream at him and order him to take the King's food to his rooms.  

It was unusual that the conversation had been so one-sided, Merlin had been the only one that talked, that discussed and bared his insides, the King and Queen of Camelot had merely listened to his tale, occasionally asking questions to clarify a muddled timeline or a complicated event that had come to be because many parties were involved, they had never asked why he had done it or why he had come to use magic. It was almost as impersonal as a knight reporting the results of a non-eventful patrol.

So engrossed was Merlin is his thoughts that when someone crashed into him his first reaction was to curse and hold a palm up, his magic gathering before he realized that he knew the person he had crashed into.

"Arthur?"  Merlin asks, lowering his hand as he gazes at the King. His eyes are bloodshot and he is not wearing a cloak to protect himself against the cold. Merlin glanced down, half expecting Arthur to be barefoot and he is extremely relieved when he sees Arthur wearing some boots.

"Merlin," Arthur says, and his voice breaks a little at the word. Arthur coughs and then tries again, "Merlin, aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I rested well enough yesterday, Sire." He sees Arthur grimace, raising one hand to his head when the morning bell rings. Merlin smiles a little even though he really shouldn't. "If you like, I can prepare you some drought for your head?"

Arthur mumbles his consent and together they walk silently towards Gaius chambers, the old man is probably already awake, the cold hurting his bones and making it difficult for him to sleep, so it wouldn't bother him.  

The more steps they take, the more obvious it becomes that there is tension hanging in between them. The air is slowly turning suffocating, each of them so engrossed in acting normal, in ignoring the elephant in the room, that it makes it more obvious that there is one in the first place.  When they arrive, they notice that Gaius is gone, so Arthur sits in the table Merlin and Gaius share their meals and places his head on his hands while he waits as Merlin gathers the ingredients so that he can start brewing.

Merlin works quickly and quietly while he prepares a pain relief drought for Arthur's headache. While the drought boils he hands him a cup of water and waits while he drinks. The quiet is stifling. Merlin keeps opening his mouth to say something only to close it again. There is a lot pending at this moment, on what they are going to say. Merlin could start speaking about his duties, or Arthur's. He could make a joke about the fact that the King is hangover, or he could talk more about the magic, discussing the acts but not the reasons, he could make excuses or apologize, there are endless possibilities and whatever happens next, their relationship depends on it. Merlin doesn't want to choose the wrong option. If he chooses wrong he could lose Arthur. They could remain friends always ignoring the big thing that stood in between them and that would never go away. Arthur could cut him off and start treating him as just a servant or he could give Merlin a better position on his staff and treat him with respect but it could result at the end of their friendship.  Arthur could snap and send him away. There were so many ways Merlin could lose Arthur, lose the love of his life, so he remained silent and that brought with it the possibility that this would be what they became, silent companions brought together by destiny and years of friendship, loyalty, and love that had soured because one had kept a secret so that he wouldn't be killed.

Arthur sighed loudly and tapped his fingers against the table were he was sitting.  Merlin inspected him and nodded to himself when he noticed that he looked a little better. The water had helped and the drought was ready. He served it and cooled it with magic since it wouldn't be a problem now. He glanced at Arthur though his eyelashes, waiting to see his reaction and he felt disappointed when he saw there wasn't one. Arthur drank the potion and tapped his fingers against the vial once he was done.  He tapped it once more before blurting out:

"You lied to me." he started. Merlin didn't think the words merited a response it was pretty obvious that he had done so out of necessity and it was also pretty obvious that Arthur knew that. But there was something in Arthur's voice that made Merlin pause and thinks before he opened his mouth and said something stupid. "You lied to me, Merlin."  the silence remains in the room for a long time before Merlin answers.

 "Yes," Merlin confirmed.

"Why?"

There were many reasons why. The main one was that Merlin wanted to keep his head so that he could protect Arthur and help usher his destiny. The second one was that it was illegal to have magic, to be himself. Others were that he didn't want to be hated, persecuted or banished. He didn't want his friends to hate him because he is supposed to be ‘evil'. There are many reasons, but there is no correct way to answer Arthur's question. Merlin knows that whatever he replies it will be the wrong, and it will be wrong because he doesn't understand what Arthur is asking. Even so, he makes a valiant effort while his heart tries to beat its way out of his chest. 

"Magic is illegal." He says. "and I didn't want to die."  Arthur glares at him, and there are storm clouds gathering in his eyes, seconds away before the thunder and lightning start. 

"You lied to me." The King says again this time emphasizing the last word. Merlin's heart misses a beat. "and I want to know why."

And suddenly Merlin understands and there is no answer to Arthur's question because he can't answer it. Merlin can’t even imagine what would happen if he admitted the real reason. So he remains silent, open-mouthed and still, watching as the lightning starts flashing in Arthur's eyes. Merlin is far away from shelter, so there is nothing he can do but brave the storm.  

And it's a storm.

Arthur stands forcefully, the chair he was in tumbles backward, his hands are clenching the vial were the headache potion was and it breaks with the strength of his anger. Merlin watches as the blood drips down Arthur's hand, staining his trousers and the floor, he takes a step back and then another one while Arthur follows him. There is anger in every single one of Arthur's muscles, he is as tense as a bowstring before the archer fires it. At that moment Arthur looks older and more powerful than he ever been. He is pure bright anger that flashes and thunders against the earth. And he looks breathtaking.

Merlin walks backward until his back hits one of Gaius's bookshelves and waits. He isn't afraid, not of Arthur, and if the King decided to do something, Merlin could always defend himself, but there is something so primal on the way Arthur walks towards him, in the way he is standing and moving. Merlin suddenly feels like a prey that is slowly backing away from a predator.

Arthur opens his mouth to say something, only to close it again, he shakes his head and then leaves.  Merlin watches as he walks away from him, as Arthur walks the length of the room, as the king opens the door and exits the room from the spot he had practically glued himself into and he shakes.

Merlin doesn't know what just happen, he doesn't understand what had just occurred, but he does know that he had seen the storm in Arthur's eyes break and he had caught a glimpse of what lay beneath the anger and it hadn't been hated or uncontrolled rage, it had been hurt.

Merlin heart breaks, he unglues himself from his position and runs after Arthur, because he has to explain, he can’t let Arthur go around feeling hurt, not for something Merlin did. He loves Arthur, he wants him to be safe and happy and he is hurting him and Merlin doesn’t know exactly why Arthur is so hurt, but he knows that is not that Merlin has magic or that he poisoned Morgana or even that he freed the dragon. He had even given Merlin an opening to talk about it, about what Arthur was feeling and what Merlin himself was doing and Merlin had blown it.  

Uther had done a number on his son, had taught him that it was a weakness to show emotion, that a king ruled alone, that you couldn’t trust someone, and for years Arthur had believed him. Here he was, the King, the most powerful man on the land and he had broken through years of lessons and teachings to, not only talk about his emotions with someone else but to trust so many people with his life and kingdom even though he had been betrayed more than once. And those betrayals had taken such a big chunk of Arthur’s confidence and bright-eyed positiveness, but with the past years, Arthur had been regaining parts of himself and Merlin was being an idiot, behaving like a coward once more, compromising what Arthur had worked so hard to recover.

He reaches Arthur before the man finishes turning the corner on the hallway that would lead him to the armory, Merlin grabs him by the arm and turns him, there is rage on his face, Merlin can see it in the downturn of his lips, in the way his eyes are focused and intense, and the hurt, once he has seen it, is easy to spot on the wetness of his eyes and the way his hands shake. 

“I lied to you,” he starts, and he feels the words that could explain everything crawling up his throat, pushing their way upwards and out with a strength that makes his voice shake with its conviction.  “Because I love you.” Arthur’s eyes widen, he reaches his hand as if to touch Merlin but then stops and takes it back.

“What?” Arthur asks, and the anger is gone, replaced by extreme confusion. There are many emotions fluttering in his face as if he couldn’t decide what he was feeling.

“I’m in love with you,” Merlin repeats, this time his voice does not shake, but is barely louder than a whisper.  Arthur stares at Merlin for a while longer before he sighs. Merlin’s heart stops beating at the sound and he starts preparing himself for the rejection and the disgust. Because that is what has to come, Arthur is married and while sodomy and men having sex was common while at war, emotions flourishing between them was never seen as something good or even natural, you could fuck a man, you just couldn’t love him. But Arthur surprises him once more. 

“I think I’m in love with you too,”  he whispers. And Arthur’s voice is broken and so incredibly soft that Merlin flushes. They share a small smile between them before Arthur seems to regain some of his anger and his voice is pure shards “But I don’t know you, Merlin. How can I love someone who is a stranger?”

Merlin feels tears gathering on his eyes. “But you do know me.” Merlin corrects. “Just because you found out that I have magic it doesn’t mean I am a different person.”

“But you are,” Arthur confirms, and now Merlin doesn't know what is on his voice, Arthur is so hurt and angry and the mix of those emotions turns his voice and his expresión in something Merlin has never seen before.  “You are magic, Merlin. And since I don't know about your magic it means that I love glimpses and parts of you.” Arthur admits.

“I can show you the parts you haven’t seen,”  Merlin says desperately. His hand reach on its own accord and grabs Arthur’s.  Arthur grabs it back and squeezes it.

“And I will gladly see them.” Arthur proclaims, he then lets go of Merlin’s hand and takes a step back.  “But I am so angry at you.” And the storm is back on Arthur’s eyes, his expression and voice familiar once more.  “you should have known better than to lie to me.”

Merlin flinches and looks down to his hands.  

There is so much to unpack in that small sentence. Yes, Merlin should have known better, he did know better. Arthur wasn't been open with his emotions, not with Gwen and not with him, but if anyone should have known how much Arthur cared for Merlin, how much he was willing to sacrifice for him, it was Merlin himself. He had heard about how Arthur almost died trying to get the moraeus flower. Merlin had been there during the Labyrinth of Gedref and had watched as Arthur drank what they thought to be poison. He had been a witness to the times Arthur had lied for him, or even when he place himself in front of an enemy to protect Merlin. Arthur had always shown his emotions through his actions. So, yes, Merlin should have known better than to think that Arthur would hate him for his magic. Especially considering how much he still loved Morgana and how much he trusted and adored Mordred.

“I knew you cared.” Merlin admitted, and took a step forward following Arthur. “but I was so afraid.” He takes a deep breath and looks into Arthur’s eyes “I couldn't bear it if you hated me.”

“I could never hate you,” Arthur admits and his voice is soft once more. Merlin is starting to suspect that this softness comes from deep within Arthur and that maybe, if he is lucky, he will get to hear it more often “Promise me.” He says and his forehead is suddenly touching Merlin’s “Merlin, you have to promise, that you won’t hide from me.”  Merlin smiles a little. Arthur always demands so little of others and yet gives so much of himself. It was both endearing and maddening. So Merlin did the only thing he could do, he promised. And his words brought with them a blinding smile from Arthur.

“Good.” Arthur whispers and then he turns his back and he is gone. Leaving Merlin with a smile on his face and immense hope in his heart, they would be fine after everything that had happened. Their relationship was not completely healed, there was still so much they had to talk about, so much to discuss, but they had taken a step forward, and for the moment, that would have to be enough.

Chapter Text

Merlin hadn’t expected his morning to go the way it was going.

He should have known better, after all, it had happened often enough in the last four, almost five years that it shouldn’t have come up as a surprise.  

“You little brat!” he screamed after the dark-haired child that was running in front of him and laughing as he avoided the hands that intended to catch him. There is a taunting laugh and a childlike scream when the hands brush his back. Merlin should have expected this, he knows for a fact that taking care of Arthur is difficult and taking care of his son is even more so.  “Thomas!” Merlin screams when the little boy turns and his eyes are golden, making some of the furniture on the hallway move until they block Merlin’s path, making him fall on his face. Merlin heard the kid laughing, along with some of the servants that had witnessed the display. “Thomas!” he screams again.

Merlin stands up with his eyes golden, returning the furniture to its place before running after the child, following the mess Thomas’s magic makes. He catches up with him before he can enter the throne room were Arthur and Gwen are greeting Queen Elena and her party form Gawant as they finalized the latest treaty that would ally Gawant with the other kingdoms and in the process,  acknowledge Arthur as High King of Albion. Thomas and Merlin were not invited to the final meeting, but even so Thomas was adamant that he wanted to go. The little prince had inherited all of his father stubbornness and all of his mother headstrongness, he was also spoiled and so incredibly kind that no one could help but adore him. He was the jewel of the kingdom, so nobody really cares about the fact that he could throw a tantrum that could render someone deaf or that he could be a little rude when sleepy or that his eyes sometimes turn gold. They only care about how blue his eyes look against his dark skin and his black hair and how his smile lights up any room he is in.

Merlin scoops the little prince in his arms and restrains him before he can bat his eyelashes at the guards and have them open the doors for him even when they have explicit instructions not to. Thomas laughs as he is being picked up, and with his magic, he throws the doors open. They crash open with a bang, drawing the eye of all the people present. Merlin feels himself flush. Gwaine lets out a loud laugh at could only be a funny sight. Merlin trying to hold a struggling Thomas who in turn is trying to get down so he can go to Arthur and Gwen, while the guards are trying to get the doors closed but failing miserably since it appears that Thomas glued them to the walls. The noblemen present are all staring incredulously at the display. Those from Camelot are used to this kind of thing happening, so they soon are smiling a little and then turning back to business, the ones from Nemeth and Gawant also return quickly towards theirs, the parties from Caerleon and Essetir take a little longer, and the one form Mercia is the last one to return to their conversation. Arthur and Gwen share another one of their looks that seem to convey so much and then Gwen stands and walks towards Merlin and Thomas, Leon immediately falling in step behind her.

It had come as a surprise for Merlin that Arthur had decided to name Gwaine his First Knight after Leon had suffered an injury on his elbow that compromised his mobility but not his prowess as a knight, instead of retiring Leon, Arthur had named him the Queen’s Champion and he was entrusted with the safety of the Queen, something that had turned even more important once they had learned that Gwen was with child.  Leon had been stuck to her like glue for years and most assumed that it was because he was loyal to Arthur and because the King had assigned him the position and they wouldn’t be wrong, but another important reason had more to do with the fact that he was in love with Gwen and Gwen was in love with him. It also had something to do with the fact that the baby Gwen was currently expecting was not Arthur’s, but his. But at the end of the day, it mattered not the reason as to why Leon was so devoted to his role as Queen’s Champion because he did his job flawlessly and with unprecedented determination.  

Gwaine, on the other hand, had been doing great with the added responsibility. Not that Gwaine himself would ever agree with that statement, he moaned and complained that he didn’t have time to go to the tavern anymore, but the time he had previously inverted on the establishment had given him an ample supply of confidants. He was always the first to be informed if there was trouble on Camelot,  he was the one who convinced the scared villages to come to ask for aid to their rulers. He was also great at managing the court, having previous experience in one. The knights, especially the younger common ones, respected him and trusted him as a competent leader that sometimes had strange strategies and weird plans, but ones that would bring most of them safely home.

It was Gwen the one that had changed the least, but also the most. Motherhood had suited her more than any of her other roles and being a Queen had always seemed like it was something she had always meant to do. But, before the Rowan Collars, she had always seemed to be something like an accessory at court, pretty to look at and something you showed off, but nothing you listened to, and that role had been taken due to a combination of Gwen being insecure on her position and the noblemen thinking that a common woman, one that had once served them, wasn’t smart.  Over the years she had grown confident and now she had as much respect and trust as Arthur did while in court. There were still people that underestimated her and looked down on her because of her birth, but she showed them exactly how wrong they were on looking down on her and on other common born. She was loved and adored through the lands, and her example and teaching had resulted in better treatment of servants and a more equal court than ever.

When Gwen, and therefore Leon, reached them, Merlin stopped trying to fight Thomas and set him on the floor, where he ran until he was standing in front of his mother, tugging on her dress and talking a mile a minute while pointing at Merlin. The little brat was probably tale tailing to his mom.

Merlin walked until he was by Gwen. “Sorry.” He whispered and tried to take Thomas hand so he could lead them out. Gwen shook his head and took Thomas hand on hers, walking towards the thrones, Merlin followed after some hesitation, if he was not supposed to do so, then anyone could tell him and he would go.

He took his place standing behind Arthur, even though the King tried to make him sit on one of the empty chairs next to him. It was almost routine. Arthur tried to make Merlin sit on the place of the royal adviser, Merlin refused, Arthur then tried to sit Merlin on the Court Sorcerer's place (next to the advisor) and Merlin refused, standing behind Arthur in the place normally reserved for a servant.

No matter how much Merlin rose in the ranks of the court or how much space he took upon the King’s bed, he would always serve Arthur. His loyalty and devotion to the man were not tied to his position or his place in Arthur’s heart and in standing where he was, he proved it to everyone. Even when it was considered unnecessary due to the fact that Merlin’s deeds had been starting to be told by the bards, making their way to the kingdoms, stories, and songs that were corroborated by the druids who still had far much to respect and adoration for Merlin.

The worst of the druids was definitely Mordred, who told Merlin and Arthur’s adventures to the druid kids as bedtime stories complete with magical recreations of the beasts they had slain and the battles they had conquered. Mordred had grown to become the first magical knight on Camelot’s army in decades. He was proficient with protection spells and he needed to practice his attack ones. The sword he had dominated long ago and it was pleasant to see him leading entire sections of the army with a steady hand and with incredible skills. 

It hadn’t always been like that. There had been a moment, were Merlin was sure Mordred would betray them. A druid girl had come to Camelot and had practiced magic on the citadel before it was made legal. The girl, Kara, had been a childhood friend of Mordred and it was obvious when one saw them that Mordred’s emotions ran deeper than just friendship. Kara was found to be conspiring with Morgana, and when the plot had been discovered, the sentence was death. Arthur gave the girl more than one chance to repent. He told her and Mordred about the fact that the repeal of the ban of magic was on its works. Told them that he would do what he could to repay the blood debt his family owned to the druids. Mordred had told him that he understood, that he could live in exile with Kara until magic was made legal and then he would return. Kara had disagreed and had tried to kill the King that had shown her mercy, all because she wanted revenge more than she wanted peace.

Mordred had done what any knight of Camelot would have and protected the King until Merlin arrived and was able to subdue Kara without killing her. After a lengthy discussion that had involved Mordred, they had decided that the best course of action was to enchant Kara so that she wouldn’t be able to cross into Camelot’s borders, banishing her effectively.  Mordred hadn’t even considered going to her after seeing how her heart was ruled by hate even though it had pained him to see Kara escorted away screaming her vows for revenge.

Mordred had changed for a while after that, growing distant and angry, but with time he returned to the kind boy he had always been and turned that kindness into a drive that made him a wonderful leader and a competent general. 

Arthur had been surprised and angry by the fact that Mordred had known about Merlin’s magic when explained to him that Mordred was the reason Merlin even knew about the druid title of Emrys, Arthur’s anger had dimmed. He had still been hurt and felt lied to, but he accepted it. It had also been during all the Kara’s mess that Arthur had confessed to Mordred that he knew of the druid’s magic, that particular conversation had ended in tears of happiness as Mordred had prayed in thanks when he realized that one of the reasons Arthur was overthrowing the ban was because of how much he cared for Mordred. And thanks to that particularly long and honest conversation, Arthur had managed to change destiny.

Merlin glanced to his left and saw Mordred standing close to the throne, eyes open and alert in case of an attack and smiled a little at how ridiculous Mordred looked in the midst of trying to grow a beard. His attention was then taken by Thomas, who was trying to climb into Arthur’s lap without the help from the King, grabbing Arthur’s clothes and using the King’s boots as stepping stones until he finally managed to sit on Arthur’s lap.  

The King was in the midst of talking with Elena, and the only sign he gave that he notices Thomas sitting on him was the arm that circled the boy’s stomach, setting him in a safer position.

Thomas soon grew bored like he tended to do when the attention was not on him and he started playing with his magic, making small smoke animals dance and play in front of him. No matter how many times Merlin saw it, saw Thomas practicing magic, his heart would always miss a beat at the sight. Here there was, a child born with magic and he would never have to fear persecution or hate, his talents will never have to be called a curse, and he would grow up happy and safe,  without having to learn to keep a secret, without having to learn to lie like it was second nature.

There had been signs that Thomas would be born with magic. The day Arthur and Merlin had first confessed their love for each other, was the day the first signs appeared. Gwen had woken up on the King’s bed, and no one could have known that she was already with child, it was too soon, but Gwen had woken up and had somehow known that she was pregnant and that the baby would serve as Camelot's heir. She had known that he would grow up beautiful and loved and that his blue eyes, aside from the Pendragon's nose,  would be one of the only psychical things he would inherit from his father. She had kept the knowledge to herself. After all, it could all have been a dream.

However, when the dreams continued and she dreamt of the beautiful smile of her son and how the crown would look like on him, she started to suspect that they were not simple dreams. When the time for her cycle came and she didn’t bleed, her suspicions were confirmed, not only by Gaius but by a small mark that had appeared just above her navel in the shape of a rare wild orchid that Merlin had taken the pains to identify as a red helleborine.

The dreams had continued through all the pregnancy.

The last week, Gwen had been feeling poorly and weak,  and as the days progressed storms clouds began to gather, making the days dark, humid and tiring. The entirety of Camelot had held its breath, waiting for the storm to break, and when it did, two incredible things happened: the new prince of Camelot drew its first breath, and Merlin felt a strange but familiar magic joining the human world.

The birth of the baby was witnessed by Gaius, Merlin, and Geoffrey, and he was named Thomas Uther Pendragon after his grandfathers. His eyes had turned gold for the first time as he suckled on his mother’s breast. The magic was still immature and week to have any effects.

The ban on magic was lifted the next day.  Arthur finally deciding to ignore the nobles in his council that were adamantly against the lifting of the ban. After the meeting, in which Arthur had proclaimed the ban void, and the new rules that were soon to follow, he had gone to those of noble birth he trusted most, Leon amongst them, and told them the reason why he had ignored the thinly veiled threats done had rushed. Those who were loyal to Arthur were also loyal to Thomas, so any of the consequences that could arise from a King ignoring his council were stopped before they began.

Geoffrey had then asked Arthur and Merlin for a private meeting. It had surprised Merlin that he had been asked to join, and both Merlin and Arthur had been confused by the request. Even so, they had met him on Arthur’s chambers. Geoffrey had arrived carrying books and loose paper. He had bowed when he arrived and asked Merlin to clear the table so that he could place the books. When Merlin finished, Geoffrey opened up the loose paper and slowly placed them on the table, until together they formed the shape of a family tree. The Pendragon family tree to be exact. He then proceeded to explain for the remaining of the day how magic was woven into the Pendragon bloodline and how it had seemingly stopped when Cornelius Signan had joined Arthur’s ancestor and robbed him of his magic.  But then Signan spirit had been released and then eradicated, meaning that the Pendragon magic was once again flowing into the lands and thought those who possessed Pendragon blood. It explained why Morgana had suddenly grown more powerful, her mother’s magic mixing with the Pendragon’s, why Arthur could actually feel the presence of magic being cast, and it could possibly explain why Uther had lost his mind when Morgana betrayed him when he had never shown a history of being weak minded.

Merlin had been asked to attend so that he could understand why Thomas was showing such early signs of magic. The Pendragon’s magic that had skipped generations wanted to be returned to the family blood. And Thomas, as the first Pendragon to be born after Signan, had taken more magic that a Pendragon normally would.  He had also been asked to be there so that he could keep Arthur for breaking his arm or something worse while he raged at discovering one more of his father’s secrets.

The lifting of the ban had been met with skepticism and fear, some of the citizens were worried that it had come as a result of an enchantment. But slowly and surely people had come to the conclusion that the reason the king had legalized magic again was that his father had made a mistake and because Arthur wanted to protect his people.

The Prince’s magic was kept a secret of his own safety until an accident revealed the truth. Thomas had recently turned one when the King decided to take the little boy to a walk along the market. Thomas had recently found that his legs could carry him short distances, so when the distance proved too big for the little prince, Thomas had the habit of levitating the things he wanted into the air until they caught the attention of a nearby adult that could take them to him. And it was exactly what he did when he saw a woman selling some jewelry. The sparkly bracelet had drawn the attention of many people and when they turned to see who was responsible for the bold display of magic and saw the little prince furiously glaring at the bracelet while his eyes flashed molten gold they all had learned about another reason as of why the ban was lifted. Arthur had been worried and scared when he saw everybody staring at his little boy, but nothing had happened. The merchant woman had taken the jewelry on her hand and had approached the king and the prince, effectively breaking the uncomfortable atmosphere that had grown still around them, and reminding everyone once more, that magic was welcome on the kingdom.

“A gift, your Majesty, for his Highness.” Arthur had smiled and taken the gift, giving it to Thomas who had proceeded to put it on his mouth. The woman had then made small flames appear out of thin air, drawing the attention of Thomas and of other children, she had proceeded to entertain the kids of the merchants for hours until the sun had started to set.  Arthur, when he returned to the castle with a sleepy baby on his arms, had sent Merlin to buy the rest of the woman’s weres and when Merlin returned, there had been a faint lip mark on his cheek, left behind by the woman’s lip paint and when he had seen Arthur, he had kissed him for a long time.

The Druids returned to Camelot soon after. They were welcomed as honored guests even thought they still remained on the outskirts of the city. Preferring to be closer to the forest. But they were not hunted or feared as they used to be, and their council and magical remedies were sought after.

Aida had come to work on the castle, aiding Geoffrey on the upkeep of the library and she brought with her Anne and Lucian whos uncle had died. Anne had fallen in love with the works on the kitchens, where she helped where she could. Thomas often went looking for her so that Anne would give him treats. Lucian, on the other hand, had started working on the stables, the horses had frightening him at first, but as days had passed, the little boy had formed a bond with all of them, he cared for them and was always the first to notice if something was amiss with their care.  He often went riding with Arthur, and it was possible that soon Lucian would start working as a squire for Mordred.

Soon, little by little, magic was once more accepted on Camelot and on its closest allies lands, people who had previously thought they knew their neighbors found out that they were wrong, because magic had never left Camelot, not really. People who worshiped the gods of the Old Religion didn’t have to practice their rituals before closed doors anymore, parents and children who had magic flowing through their veins could practice out in the open.  There weren’t many, but their numbers were significant.

After the proclamation that the ban was lifted, those with magic and the followers of the Old Religion that had remained on Camelot had come to the castle, heads covered with white and black, carrying candles that they had left on the site where most executions had occurred. They had prayed and built something similar to a shrine to those that had died there, with ribbons and drawings. They had spent the night there and when they were done, they had thrown salt to cleanse the area. After they were done, they had approached the guards to ask for a meeting with Emrys.

The guards, confused, had gone to Arthur, who had granted the people there meeting with Merlin. Arthur had welcomed all of them to the castle, guiding them to the chambers he normally held the council meetings. Some of the nobles were littering the room and with them still in the room, he had asked about the ritual they had performed on the courtyard. After learning that it was only something that would help the spirits rest, he had told them, in plain view of his court, that he would like to participate in the next one they did. The room had remained silent until Merlin arrived with Thomas on his arms.

Gwen had been sleeping and Arthur training, so Merlin had been taking care of him on Gaius chambers, trying to find a spell that would cure colic so that Arthur and Gwen could sleep for more than three hours at the time.

When the citizens of Camelot had seen him, dried spit-up on his shirt and all, they, to the child, had bowed their heads, and spoke, their voices carrying through the room.

“Oh great one, we apologize for our tardiness on welcoming you to our home. We thank you for your sacrifices and for those times you protected us, Camelot, against numerous threats and pray to the Great Mother that you find it in your heart to forgive us for not helping you on your quests for peace. We have doubted you, have ignored your fight and your request for help. When the immortal armies came, we fled, when beast killed our neighbors, we hid. We left you alone to fight, and we cannot express how deeply sorry we are.”

The nobles had whispered worried, there was fear on their eyes for they didn’t understand what the people were saying, couldn't understand what they were implying. Merlin had smiled and kneeled as they had.

“There is no need for such ceremony. I am your brother and there is nothing to forgive.” He had said. His voice then took the edge of command.  He gestured to the people around him “You are amongst brothers.” Merlin had said when he had stood.

“Emrys.” they had said and stood up, as well. Bowing when they did. Merlin had cringed at the way they had shown such reverence. This was the people he had walked amongst for years and before they treated him like any other, now, they prayed for his forgiveness, but it was something he was going to have to get used too.

“Why have you come looking for me?” Merlin had asked.

“Is it true what the winds say? That the Once and Future King is amongst us?” 

Merlin had smiled a little and moved Thomas from one arm to the other.  

“Why do you ask such questions?” Merlin had asked.  “When the winds have already given you the answer? Yes, Arthur Pendragon is the Once and Future.”

The exited claps and tears of joy couldn’t be hidden and the citizens had turned to each other with excited whispers.

That had been the first time he had been in Court in his role as Court Sorcerer and Emrys.  It was a good beginning, an easy way for people to see him as he really was. The humble, but not simple, servant of King Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King.

It had taken a long time, but Merlin had managed to convince people to refer to him as Merlin, dropping all the titles granted to him by his different positions, and they were many. First Advisor, Court Sorcerer, Dragonlord, Emrys, Royal Nannie... sometimes they got to be too much.

But amongst all the many changes, people had forgotten to remember about a constant foe. 

Morgana had been quiet for a long time, but when she made her presence known, an army of Saxons was behind her back. Her need for revenge still reigned true. The war that had followed had been brutal, many good, innocent people had died and the number had multiplied when the war had spilled out of Camelot borders, affecting the allied kingdoms until all of them were at war.

The war had lasted for two years. Two horrible, and long years were Merlin could swear he could smell blood all the time, even when he was on the citadel and away from the battlefield where he tended to the protection enchantments on the queen’s room so that Gwen and Thomas could remain to safe from any type of attack. 

Together with Killgarah, Merlin had managed to convince Aithusa to abandon the fight. She had been sent to the Crystal Cave, with the hopes that the magical crystals would help heal her injuries. She would never be what she could have been, but at least the worst of her deformities were gone.

In the end, the presence of magic, courage, and strength on Camelot’s side had been what proved to be the winning combination. Morgana had been captured and bound with rowan and iron while she awaited trial for her many, many crimes. Her allies had sworn loyalty to Camelot and fidelity to the Pendragons.  The sentence had been light when one took into consideration the thousands that had died. Morgana was sent into exile, with Aithusa as her keeper, enchantments keeping her from ever returning to Albion, unless her punishment was lifted.

After that, the Golden Age Kilgharrah had promised was on its way.

As the months passed, more and more kingdoms started turning to Camelot for an example on how to live and maintain peace. Asking for aid in times of need, and help on training the kingdom knights until Arthur had started sending representatives all around the land. Soon, those representatives were returning with wives and families, many of them somehow finding themselves on advantageous marriages that helped unite the land. Nemeth was the first to sign a treaty were they proclaimed Arthur as the High King. Princess Mithian signing it willingly after her wedding with one of Camelot’s lords. Caerleon and Mercia signed the same day, almost five months after Nemeth. They were followed by Essestier nine months later. Surprisingly the one that had taken longer, more than a year after Essestier had signed, was Gawant, but it was the event they were celebrating today, and for the first time since before Bruta’s time, there would be peace and unity amongst the five kingdoms. 

Thomas grew bored soon once more. He slid his way down his father’s lap until he was on the floor. He turned around until he spotted Percival and Elyan. Percival was sitting down, his leg probably bothering him again after the hit he had received during the war and Elyan was talking to a pretty maid standing next to him. Thomas ran until he was standing next to them,   making grabbing hands to Elyan until his uncle bent down to pick him up. Elyan was the only one who still got the privilege of carrying Thomas everywhere. Thomas adored his uncle and he tended to stick to him like glue when he could. Elyan continued his conversation as if nothing had happened, continuing to prefer the presence of those common born even though his sister was queen.

Merlin nodded to himself in satisfaction. Everyone he loved was safe. There was nothing that could possibly go wrong.  His mother was probably with Gaius helping the old man delivering medicine on the castle, his friends were all here, safe and happy. And Arthur, his King, his love, he was possibly glowing with pride.

Their relationship was still so similar to how it always had been, but so different in many regards. They still fought like children and argued often, they often placed themselves in danger hoping to protect the other from harm. Arthur sometimes got really bossy and rude. He could grow cold and angry and he would go to the training ground to hack at straw dummies until his anger diminished or he dealt with his emotions. Arthur would spend many sleepless nights trying to solve the problems of the whole kingdom by himself and he would always blame himself if something went wrong. He was arrogant and spoiled, but he was still kind, loyal, truthful and honorable. He would sometimes look at Merlin, with such clear adoration on his eyes, that it would make Merlin blush at the open display of affection and love.  Merlin sometimes surprised him while Arthur was bathing and singing to himself one of the taverns wrenches songs and Arthur would laugh in embarrassment and Merlin would feel such love for him. They, more often than not, shared a bed at night and during the war, they had shared a tent, where Merlin whispered encouragement on Arthur’s ears and Arthur promised rest and safety to Merlin.

Merlin lived for the days were he, Arthur, Thomas, Gwen and Leon could get away from the castle, and the five of them could be the happy family they really were. Where he could see Gwen and Leon share open displays of love, when Thomas would go up and down threes, making things float all around them. Were Merlin could see Arthur be a father, playing with Thomas in a way that he couldn’t on the citadel and were Merlin could showcase how much he loved Thomas, not only as Arthur and Gwen’s son but as his own. 

When the five of them returned, they would resume their court personas, pretending that their bonds didn’t run as deeply as they did. But at night,  Leon would make his way to Gwen’s chambers, and they would prove that even in the middle of the citadel, they could love each other as deeply as anyone. And Merlin would sneak his way into Arthur’s chambers and prove the same, and sometimes, in the dark of the night, Merlin felt like he had loved Arthur for a thousand ages, and that he would love him for a thousand more.

Merlin sometimes got teary eyed when he thought of the months and years leading up to that. To those moments of peace and love. They had been extremely hard. Before the war, before Thomas was born it had been extremely difficult.

After their mutual confession, everything had taken the appearance of normality but, both Arthur and Merlin, had the knowledge that the love they shared was not brotherly love, instead of on acting on those feeling quickly and doing something about the longing, they had decided to pretend nothing had happened. There was no magic, no love, nothing. They were what they always had been, master and servant and occasionally friends.  Arthur at the most random of times grew angry and bitter when he remembered the years Merlin had lied. And Merlin grew angry because everything had changed and still Arthur treated him the same, he was often ignored, and not given due respect. But Merlin still held hope for change, after all, Arthur was pressing the council for the approval on the lifting of the ban of magic, and he did come to Merlin to ask for solutions when it came to magical issues.  Still, the tension built and the more they ignored everything that happened, everything that was still happening, more and more tension was added, until it snapped.

They were on a hunting trip because they are always in one when something important happens and they found themselves in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, were, if you ask Merlin, nothing ever good happens. Arthur had insisted on going through there in search of a mighty prey they could take back home and then, as it tended to happen, they were attacked by bandits. Far too many for the best warrior on the land, but far too little for the most powerful sorcerer of the century.  Merlin had, for the first time, cast magic in a bold and open display. Teleporting them away with just one look, and protecting Arthur with just a few words.

Arthur still had his sword raised, he was breathing hard and he was looking at Merlin with perplexed awe. Merlin lowered his arms and looked at Arthur with trepidation, waiting for the explosion and the blame and many many things, he was not expecting Arthur to sheathe his sword and walk carefully towards Merlin, his walking as precise as it could get on the forest floor, he had grabbed Merlin by his upper arms and walked him backward until Merlin’s back hit a tree.  And then Arthur had proceeded to kiss the life out of him in between admonishments for being reckless and a liar and so beautiful when he was alight with the confidence magic brought him.  

Merlin had kissed back and whispered promises and endearment into Arthur’s lips until both of them were gripping at each other to remain upright. Their erratic breathing the only thing disrupting the normal sounds of the woods.  Arthur had then cleared his throat and stepped back, releasing Merlin from the confines of his arms. Merlin had blushed, but he stayed where he was, trying to make eye contact with Arthur, who was staring at the floor. Merlin had said something then, a small comment meant to break the heavy atmosphere, to return them into some kind of normality, but Arthur had risen his eyes and they had met Merlin’s, and his eyes were not conflicted. There was no wall or barrier, nothing to hide the way his eyes were filled with love and lust. Nothing that could hide the relief, the admiration, and respect, nothing to protect Arthur, as he showcased Merlin how much he was wanted, how much he was needed.  Merlin had lost his breath and then he, like once before, had run to Arthur, to touch him, to take his hand. Merlin had felt like he had spent hours looking at Arthur before he took one of the King’s hands on his and kissed it, with full devotion and then he had kissed his mouth. Until it evolved into a slow dance of touches and caresses until both of their clothes were shaded and they laid naked on the forest floor, sharing kisses and lust filled glances until they both had spilled into the sun warmed floor. They had laid in each other embrace until the sun had started to set, and they had dressed in silence, careful not to look or touch in case the temptation proved to be stronger than them.

They had talked while they walked back home. Their hands intertwined, the horses having been left behind when they escaped the bandit attack. They cleared the air about many things. About Arthur still feeling betreyed and unworthy, about Merlin feeling underappreciated and unwanted.  They talked about Gwen and decided that any discussion about love and marriage needed to involve her. They placed the tentative and subtle signs of wanting more of what just happened. It didn't solve everything, but it solved enough that there was no more pretending. From there, everything progressed.  

They had their talk with Gwen, who was ecstatic for both of them and was perfectly happy with them being together. She was the one that decided that now that she was pregnant, there was no more need for her to sleep with Arthur, but that if the need arises, she was complete willing to do so, if Merlin was fine with it and he was completely fine with it.

Merlin had decided there and then that no one in the world would ever deserve someone like Gwen.

Merlin had been wrong of course.

After Leon was injured during the war and was named Queen Champion, Merlin was witness to the blooming romance between them. He saw how Leon tried really hard not to succumb to the charms of the Queen.

Merlin had taken pity on him after seeing him blush to the roots of his hair when Gwen had smiled at him after he had helped her mount her horse. And had gone to Arthur and Gwen, so that they could reveal the real relationship the three of them shared. Arthur had agreed with no problem and Gwen had denied any feelings on her part towards Leon other than friendship. Neither Merlin or Arthur had believed her, for they had seen the way her eyes lighted up when Leon came into a room. Both of them had enjoyed playing matchmakers until Gwen decided that yes, she wanted to be with Leon.

Leon’s reaction at the fact that not only did the King often engaged in sex with his court sorcerer but that he was in love with him had been comical. His response to the fact that Gwen was available for courtship and that Gwen actually wanted said courtship had been even more so. The knight had wanted to deny his desire, ask the King for both permission and forgiveness, try to smile at the news while remaining respectful and otherwise made a mess of his face as he tried to process the information. Merlin had deeply enjoyed it.

In the end, Gwen was the one who had taken the matter into her own hand, so to speak. She had grabbed Leon by the face and dragged him down until she could kiss him while standing on her tiptoes. When Leon had told Merlin the story, he had hidden his red face on his hands. Merlin had patted him in the back and had tried not to laugh at the image. Sometime later, they had realized that Gwen was pregnant and Arthur was the first one to congratulate Leon.

They had talked a lot about the baby that was coming, after all, to all of Camelot the baby was Arthur’s. It would be impossible for the baby to address Leon as his father or for Leon to call the baby his. Leon had been surprisingly alright with the idea. Even if it meant that the baby might not ever know who their real father was. Arthur still planned on telling the truth to the child when they were old enough to understand the need for the secret. And no matter what, Merlin knew that Arthur was going to grant them the title of Prince or Princess, even if their secret was discovered.  

From where he is standing Merlin can see were Arthur had bitten his nails in an unusual sign of nervousness, but Merlin wasn’t worried. Peace was finally coming to all the kingdoms. As Merlin watched, Arthur rose from his seat, drawing the attention from all those that had gathered on the room.

“Today.” He begins “I am humbled. I have been king for only ten years, and you have trusted me, to rule alongside you, to help your kingdoms as you have helped mine. You have trusted me, with far more than I deserve and for that, I thank you.” There are applauses all around the room. “It is not every day that someone can say that peace has been achieved, but today, I am both proud and honored to be the one to tell you that peace, is within our reach. Today, we sign the final treaty that will align all of our kingdoms under one banner. Today, we find peace. I welcome all of you to join me today in a banquet to celebrate this momentous event, there will be food, wine, and good company and we will all toast for something that we hope the children of our children’s children get to experience. I will see all of you tonight.”  

With that, the meeting is over and everyone waits for Arthur and Gwen to make their exit so that they can leave as well. Merlin levitates Thomas until he is on his arms and he walks with Thomas on his arms until they exit the room.

Merlin has much to do before they are both ready for the banquet, and to this one, they had both been invited. So, Merlin took Thomas to the prince’s chambers and magicked a bath for the little prince. The clothes Thomas would wear were already pressed, laundered and on the bed. Everything was ready.  

As Merlin finished bathing Thomas, Arthur entered the chambers with a smile, his hair was still wet. He looked magnificent.  With his broad shoulders adorned by one of his many capes, his chainmail falling perfectly on his body and shining with a cleanness that could only be achieved by hours of hard work.  His fingers are adorned with rings and he looks so settled that it makes Merlin smile and relax, the tension that had been building up on his neck disappearing.

“Father!” Thomas screams and stands, making the water on the tub spill down the sides. He then proceeds to flop down on the tub once more, hugging himself “It's cold!” he whines, glaring at Merlin as if it was his fault that they were on the middle of autumn. Merlin rolls his shining gold eyes and lights up the fireplace.  

Arthur smiles a little and comes to kneel next to Merlin. He grabs Merlin’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

“Go get ready.” Arthur orders. “I can finish getting him ready for tonight.”  Merlin smiles his thanks, gives Arthur a small kiss on the cheek and goes to his own rooms to get ready.

His official rooms aren’t far.  Arthur had given him one in the same wing as the royal family. They were grand and opulent, they had all the comforts one could wish for, a big bed, a table and a small shelf full of books. It was beautifully adorned, with great tapestries and chandeliers that made the room look even grander, but Melin spent in them less than two hours a day, sometimes even less.  His normal, everyday clothes, share cupboard space with Arthur on the King’s rooms. His favorite pillow is on the left side of Arthur’s bed, there is really nothing of his on his official rooms. It's more like a storage space for things he actually needs pretty often, but not often enough to use them daily. It's why his banquet clothes are in there, alongside the red cape that marks his allegiance to Camelot and his newest pair of boots that are pretty uncomfortable.

He glances down at the clothes he is currently wearing, before shrugging and taking them off, summoning a bath while he does so.  He hadn’t planned on taking one, but the state of his clothes indicate the need for one.

He bathes quickly, without taking time to relax like he normally would. Merlin isn’t pressed for time, but knowing his luck he will arrive late to one of the most important days of his life.

He still can’t believe this is really happening. He keeps expecting all of this to be a dream, a mirage. It can’t be real. It feels impossible after all those times he had bled, cried or killed, after all those years he had waited and prayed and hoped .  After all those moments of doubt and fear. But the day has finally come.

He feels tears spilling out of his eyes when he pinches himself and he doesn't wake up.

Arthur enters the room when Merlin is just getting out of the tub. Merlin appreciates the heated glance Arthur sends his way, but they have no time to indulge. There is really not that much time before they have to make their way to the banquet.

Merlin dresses on his court clothes and adorns his shoulders with the red cape as Arthur watches. When he is ready he nods, and together, they make their way towards the banquet hall, Merlin, for once, walking alongside Artur instead of a few steps behind. Merlin can see the way Arthur’s hands shake a little. This is a big moment, not only for Arthur but for Albion. This is a moment that had been prophesied for centuries.

Today marked the day Arthur came into his role of legend, today he was crowned High King to everyone, but to the Old Religion, today marked the day he finished stepping into his role of Once and Future King.  Today he started his reign as protector and savior. Arthur knew all of this. Knew that his responsibilities were about to double or even triple. That’s why he is so uncharacteristically nervous. Why his nails are bitten and his hands are shaking. Merlin looks around to make sure there isn’t anyone around and takes one on his, giving it a tight squeeze, Arthur smiles a little at Merlin before he squeezes back.

It had taken them a long time to get a straight answer about what the title of Once and Future meant. The druids were surprisingly tight-lipped about it, even though they loved babbling about anything else, especially when Emrys asked them. But on this particular subject, they had remained elusive and gave extremely vague answers such as ‘When the time comes, the answer will reveal itself.’ and ‘such a good question has to be asked at a good time.’ The Great Dragon proved to be as cryptic as expected, laughing and even flying away in the middle of a conversation just so that he wouldn’t have to answer.  In the end, it had been the Disir that had provided the answers.

The three women had come to Arthur with a question that had seemed like an ultimatum, demanding Arthur to bow down to the Old Religion and accept all of its teachings and practices.  Arthur had taught the idea ridiculous. He had no love or admiration for the Old Religion, he taught it unfair, complicated, and it never made up its mind about if something was good or bad. Sometimes it was unnecessarily cruel and everything about it made Arthur’s skin crawl. Merlin and Mordred had both been with Arthur when he had met the three women, Mordred had explained their purpose and their role as the interpreters of the Triple Goddess, and Merlin had been the one that had laughed and pointed out that, like all interpretations, they could be completely mistaken. 

Arthur had then asked question after question about what the Disir had seen that made them believe that Arthur had to bow down to the Old Religion, they had revealed that they had seen him participating in rituals of the Old Religion, building graves on places where he knew he had slain druids and other magic users. Arthur had frowned and revealed that he was doing that because he owned a blood debt to all magic users, and it was the only way he knew how to repay it, it was his way of having the Druids present in his future, keeping a promise he had made in exchange of lives saved. This revelation had taken the Dsir by surprise who had assumed that these visions were of the future, not of the present. It had taken days for Mordred, Merlin, and Arthur to convince the Dsir that maybe, perhaps, their interpretation had been slightly biased and wrong. In the end, the thing that had convinced them that their demands were ridiculous was Mordred telling them that Arthur was not only aware of the magic, but was welcoming it back to the land, that Emrys was no longer hiding and that Arthur was way on his way of becoming High King.  

The Dsir had then changed their demand disguised as a question and demanded to know what made the Old Religion pick Arthur as the Once and Future. When Arthur had revealed that he didn’t know what the title consisted of, or even what it meant, the Dsir had laughed for a long time and then sobered up by the fact that not only was Arthur not joking but that Merlin and Mordred also didn’t know what it meant.  

They had then proceeded to patiently explain to them why the title was uttered with such awe thought those who believed, and they had begun their tale, their voices soothing and calm as they told them about their past.

An age and a half ago, there was a seer, who saw many wonderful things. They saw magic in the air, and people worshiping the old gods that were, at the time, young.  They saw humanity progress and how neighbor would help neighbor, brother would love brother, how mother would protect her child from danger, they saw a great, bright future for humanity. But they also saw terrible things. Pride and envy inside the hearts of men, greed that would lead to terrible crimes, and that all of it would eventually lead to a need.  

A need for a leader, someone to unite and protect, someone that could see what must be done for the greater good. Someone that would have to lead for more than one lifetime, because humanity was going to develop the bad habit of repeating history.

So the seer had gone to the old gods who were still young and had told them about what humanity would do to itself, about the leader they would desperately need, for the example they would one day follow. The gods had listened and had given humanity their leader.  

The seer then saw something else, something astonishing and something they hadn't thought possible, humanity could and would corrupt itself. The leader was not perfect, he could succumb to temptations and he could be as prideful and envious and greedy as everyone else. So the seer had decided to do something no one had done before. They had gone to the once young gods once more and asked for their life to be tied to the leader’s, their fate intertwined with his, their destinies becoming one, and like that, Emrys and the Once and Future had been born.  The Once and Future, the leader humanity needs so that they remember they are more than the hate that sometimes grows on their bodies, and Emrys, with magic on their veins and soul, so that they could remind the Once and Future, that while he is human and therefore susceptible to humanity's weakness, this only makes him stronger.

Both of them come back from Avalon everytime humanity needs a reminder, separating before they reach its shores and forgetting about all of their past lives, meeting before they are needed once more, and returning to Avalon when their time had finished.  Over and over again until humanity no longer has a needs for them.  

So, the King was Once, because he was, and Future, because he will be.  

The explanation had left all of them open mouthed and awed. They were so much more than they had ever thought and they had learned a lot.

But years had passed, and the weight of that knowledge diminished, both Arthur and Merlin had grown into their roles. It didn’t stop Arthur from being nervous, he had always been and would always be the Once and Future King, but today it marked a real beginning. He would finally lead everyone, his example would be emulated through the land, everything was changing, and at the same time remaining the same. His example was already being followed, just at a smaller stage, his teachings and ideologies were already spreading. Even so, Arthur was nervous, Merlin exited and the word was about to change once more.

Merlin entered the banquet hall first, and made his way to his place at the right side of the high table at the very end and glanced around to see who was close to him. Gwaine had been seated at his left so that immediately meant that Merlin would have a great time. Lucas was going to be serving them today. Merlin didn’t know much about him, but he liked the young man and he seemed like a good company. He could see Thomas sitting next to Gwen, who, like always, was shadowed by Leon. Gaius also had a place on the high table as well as Aida and Geoffrey. Elyan is also there as a member of the royal family. Merlin smiles a little and waits for the doors to dramatically open so that Arthur can enter the room.

While he does, he takes a moment to collect himself as he gazes at the people that at one point were his enemies and to the ones that had always been allies. He can see Queen Elena and King Lot, sitting close by to Princess Mithan, as well as an incredible amount of lords amongst which is Bayard. Merlin has mixed emotions about all of them, but he decides to leave all of that behind, today marks a new beginning, and every single feeling he has for the rulers of Albion have to change.

Gwaine had just started talking to Merlin when the door opens once more, and Arthur finally joins the banquet.  Everyone in the rooms rises to meet him, and Merlin feels his heart miss a beat at the sight. Arthur is a magnificent sight.  Merlin had noticed when Arthur had entered Thomas’s room but it is still breathtaking seeing him, he is missing his crown, but there is no missing the fact that his man, this human , is someone important. His looks strong, powerful and kind, he looks beautiful. Merlin especially likes the way his eyes shine and how his legs and arms look as he walks to his place on the high table.

Arthur takes his sit, and everyone returns to their conversations and their drink. Arthur’s attention is immediately caught by his son, who appears to excitedly tell him about what they are about to eat.  Merlin smiles at the sight and returns to his conversation to Gwaine.

The food is brought up, and they all eat, some performs start their show, providing entertainment for the guest. The air is warm, and the company good. The food is delicious as always and Merlin enjoys people watching while Gwaine fills his ear with another outrageous story that is not polite to tell within hearing range of the Queen, even if the Queen is secretly smiling into her cup in amusement.

Merlin listened in amusement until Arthur called for the servants to move the tables, giving the nobles space to dance. Merlin smiled and rushed to his feet before the servants were done and bowed in front of Gwen, a teasing smile on his face.  

“Your Highness, would you grant me the honor?” Merlin asked, extending his hand. Arthur was open-mouthed next to him, he was probably about ask the same thing. Merlin smirked at Arthur when Gwen agreed and rushed to stand up, practically pulling him to the floor, already laughing.

They were dancing before the music even started.  Merlin heard some of the people on the room, standing up, others laughing at how bold Merlin had acted, but those who knew them, knew that Merlin and Gwen were and would always be friends, Arthur soon stood up, and took  Elena’s hand on his, and joined the dance floor. Soon the knights started standing up to request a dance form the different ladies, Merlin saw Gwaine dancing with one for just mere moments, before stealing the dancing partner of Percival and dancing with her before changing once more with Elyan’s. The ladies laughed at his antics and followed along.

Soon, Merlin is being tapped on the shoulder so that someone could request a dance with the Queen, it was a Lord Merlin didn’t know, but after Gwen nodded her consent, he let go of her hands and took a step back.

He felt someone tugging on his pants and when he looked down he saw Thomas. Merlin crunched down.

“I want to dance.” Thomas proclaims and raises his arms so that Merlin can take them. Merlin straights and starts dancing with the little prince, making Thomas turn strictly more than necessary so that he could enjoy his laughter. Merlin entertains Thomas for a long time.  The music and dances constantly changing but he remains engaged with the little prince.

When Merlin tires, he sends Thomas to his father, so that Arthur can entertain the small child for a while and he makes his way back to his sit, to enjoy a little bit more of the truly exceptional wine that had been gifted for the occasion. He is just taking a sip when Arthur makes eye contact with him and smiles in a way that illuminates the room. Merlin flushes a little at the attention. But before he can smile back, Arthur is bending down and picks up Thomas.  Arthur makes his way to Merlin and stands next to him, Thomas resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder, clearly on the verge of falling asleep.

“You should address them.” Merlin said.

“I already did, at the singing.” Arthur reminded him. “This is the celebration. There is no need for more words”  

“But you do want to say something.”  Merlin pointed out after taking a small sip of his drink.

Arthur hummed in agreement.

“I don’t think anything I say could explain how much this moment means to me. To us.”

“I know.” Merlin says, because it is really impossible to explain  “but you will try.”

“But I will try.” Agreed Arthur. His eyes crinkled with amusement. He then turned his attention to the dance floor, and carefully raised one of his arms. Merlin walked towards the side so that Arthur would be the only person close to the high table. The music immediately stopped, and the people invited turned to look at their king and to the sleeping prince.

“What we are celebrating today...” Arthur says when every eye is on him. “it is a remarkable occasion. Our lands are united for the first time in many, many centuries, and we owe this tremendous victory to many of our people.” He explains. He makes eye contact with some of the knights, acknowledges all the rulers on the room, his voice is serious, carrying within it the real importance of this moment. “We owe it to those that died so that today would come, to the ones that bleed and cried and fought. To those that held a steadfast belief in the coming of a better future, a better future that is starting today. We owe it to those that did what they could when they could.” Arthur smiles and turns to look at Merlin, maintaining eye contact for the rest of his speech. “This victory was won  thanks to those that stand beside us, and look toward us to guide them into a better future, one where there is no more need for blood, or for tears, no more need to hide.” Merlin smiles back at the words and his heart burns at the silent acknowledgment. Arthur is still staring at him when he finishes. “This victory is theirs, it's ours. This victory is Albion’s.” His voice echoes in the silent room, and almost as if compelled, a chant of victory is torn out of the throat of those present. Waking Thomas, who is barely eyes staring at everyone.

“Albion!” they cry and chant, Arthur’s smile is almost childlike on its glee, the way his eyes shine with both mischief and pride makes Merlin’s blood boil. As the people gathered chant, their voices rise until the room seems to shake with the pride of their victory.  And then, Arthur shouts above them. His voice carrying tough the room as if magnified by magic. “and Albion will gain many more victories.” He screams, “That, I promise you.”

Arthur chest puffs and his cheeks tint with embarrassment but he is smiling. Merlin makes his eyes shine gold, and manifest in front of him the crown the rulers had commissioned for Arthur as a gift, the exact same one that Arthur had refused to wear today, calling the crown ostentatious and unnecessary while Merlin called it perfect.

Merlin walks carefully with the beautiful gold and silver crown, that is adorned with deep red rubies and clear diamonds until he is standing before Arthur. The King is a little taken aback by the sight but he doesn’t say anything and waits for Merlin to start speaking. Merlin does, with his back turned to the people and staring directly at Arthur’s ocean blue eyes. Merlin’s voice takes the timber it normally acquires when he is addressing someone in his role as Emrys, it's full of parental authority and power but is kind and it carries pleasantly to the ears of those in the room.

“For many years,” he begins. “magic was feared and persecuted through the lands.  For many years, neighbor fought neighbor, brother, hated brother, mother abandoned her child to danger. There were many terrible things on these lands, envy in the hearts of men, greed that lead to terrible crimes, that lead to war and death and hate.” The crown is shaking a little in his hands, but he continues. “But then, the son of a conqueror, one that had been taught to hate and to be prideful, to stand above everyone and everything, decided that enough was enough and he bowed down. He, who was king, he who was named Once and Future by the gods themselves, begged, prayed and promised to those who were considered beneath him and showed the land a better way to live” Merlin can see in Arthur’s eyes the desire to deny everything being said, to pass the credit to others. But Merlin won’t let him, not today. Arthur has thanked Merlin enough for everything he did, he has thanked everyone constantly for a long time and today it's not about them, it is about this one man, who changed destiny because he was willing to listen and to forgive. Because he was willing to change for friendship and love, for truth and loyalty, and that deserved recognition. “He showed us that a knight could be born in the lowest of stations and still have a heart made of honor,” He turned and made eye contact with Elyan, Percival, and Mordred, the three of them preening and blushing at the attention. “That there is bravery in the core of every man and every woman and that this bravery is to be encouraged.” He looked at the servants that were behind Arthur and acknowledged them with a nod. “He showed us, that securing the future of a child is worth every sacrifice.” Merlin smiles a little at Thomas when he says this, he then turns once more to look at Arthur and Merlin knows that his eyes are reflecting all the love and adoration he has for Arthur. “He showed us that a king could love a servant.” Arthur’s eyes soften and he ducks his head shyly. “So yes, today we celebrate Albion’s victory, but we also celebrate her King.” Merlin slowly and carefully places the crown on Arthur’s head, holding his breath when Arthur closes his eyes and inclines his head to allow Merlin to do so, and excels when Arthur opens his eyes and looks through his eyelashes at Merlin before straightening. Merlin feels his throat closing with impending tears “I have waited many years for this moment,” he croaks, he breaks eye contact with Arthur and turns to address all of who are present  “And I am happy to present you your king: Arthur Pendragon, High King of Albion, the Once and Future King.”

Merlin then takes a knee and bows. Tears streaming down his face, he feels more than sees, everyone else following his example. When he looks up, he sees Arthur standing open-mouthed at the display, his son on his arms and a crown on his head, and Merlin thought him beautiful. Before Arthur can do anything, one of the maids shouts, loud and proud, “Long live the King!” she quickly places her hands over her mouth, clearly not having meant to that, but her plea is meet with approval, and her sentiment is repeated over and over again, Merlin’s voice joining the chant with pride, because after all, today marks the start of a new beginning and the end of a long battle. “Long live the King!” he shouts, and the land echoes its agreement.