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Merlin’s heart pounded a mile a minute as he tore up the stairway. All he could think of was Arthur Arthur Arthur, and the silent fury that had been simmering just beneath the surface ever since his mother had told him the true nature of his birth. A man could kill hundreds with such fury, but Merlin knew Arthur. There was only one man the prince would kill tonight, and it was the one man he knew Arthur would never forgive himself for killing, no matter how much Uther might deserve it.
Every breath burned as he scrambled down the corridor, the council chamber’s door finally in sight. Leon stood guard outside, and Merlin cursed under his breath. Leon looked up in surprise as he came hurtling towards him, and Merlin almost thought it was enough to get him inside without any trouble. Unfortunately, Leon shoved him back as he made to reach out for the door, and grabbed him went he went to try again.
He pushed him against the wall, gently enough that he didn’t hit his head, and shook him a little. “The King has forbidden anyone to enter!”
Merlin growled, struggling in his hold. Sir Leon, however, was First Knight for a reason, and Merlin was no match for his strength. He wiggled and pushed at Leon’s chest, eyes slipping back to the door. The sound of steel meeting steel sent another shot of panic through his heart.
“They’re going to kill each other!” He shouted desperately.
Leon’s eyes widened in shock, and only widened further as he too heard the sounds of a fight from within the chamber. He glanced at the door, conflicted. Merlin saw worry, and then genuine fear flash through Leon’s eyes as the crashing of swords suddenly came to a halt, leaving a dead silence in its wake. His grip on Merlin slackened.
Merlin immediately pushed him away, the knight stumbling back in his shock, and ducked under his arm. He lunged for the doors, heart pounding loudly in his ears as he prayed to all the gods he knew to please, please don’t let him be too late, let him be in time, let him save Arthur this fate-
Relief flooded through him when he saw Arthur towering over a chair, his father unarmed and pressed back into the seat as far as he could go. Arthur was holding his sword to the King’s chest, shoulders tense and breathing harsh, but Merlin could hardly make himself care because Uther was alive and that meant he could still stop Arthur from making a decision that would cripple him for the rest of his life. He just had to be quick, and convincing.
“Arthur! Don’t!” He yelled, still breathing hard as he took a few steps towards his prince. “I know you don’t want to do this.”
Arthur didn’t even bother glancing at him. “My mother is dead because of him!”
Merlin thought of the blonde woman that had looked so much like Arthur, how she had told them the King’s dirtiest secret, and gulped.
“Killing your father won’t bring her back.” He said, taking another step forward. “You’ve lost one parent. Do you really want to lose another?”
Arthur cocked his head, and Merlin knew he was listening. Something in him relaxed. He wasn’t too far lost in his fury that he wouldn’t listen to reason, listen to Merlin.
He almost thought that would be enough.
Then Uther ruined it.
“Listen to him Arthur.” He urged, and just like that Arthur’s rage was back in full force.
His eyes focused back on his father and he tightened his grip on his sword. It pressed dangerously close to Uther’s chest, and Merlin had seen him fight enough bandits to know what would come next. Fresh panic ripped through him.
He took two more desperate steps towards Arthur, begging. “Arthur, please, put the sword down.”
Arthur’s eyes didn’t leave his father’s as he seethed. “You heard what my mother said! After everything he has done, do you believe he deserves to live?! He executes those who use magic, and yet he has used it himself!” He stopped talking to Merlin, pressed the sword even closer to Uther’s heart. “You have caused so much suffering and pain! I will put an end to that!”
Merlin felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Everything he’d ever wanted to hear Arthur say, all he’d been hoping to hear since the dragon told him of their shared destiny, and it was only happening as things were about to go so horribly wrong. He had to stop this.
For a second, he considered lying. Considered telling Arthur that Morgause was a liar, that she had summoned an illusion to whisper the words she knew would turn Arthur away from his father. He almost did, the words heavy on his tongue.
Then he looked at Uther.
He’d never seen the King so afraid, so distraught. He was staring at Arthur like his whole world had just been shattered, and some small part of him revelled in the man’s suffering. What loyalty did he owe him, this mad tyrant that had killed so many of his kind because he couldn’t bare the weight of his own guilt? What did he owe Uther, when no matter what he did, if he were to find out about the magic Merlin had been born with, he would immediately call for his execution? Nothing, he realised.
This was his nightmare, the demon that haunted his every waking hour, and Merlin owed him not one single thing. And with that realisation, his decision was made.
He would spare Arthur the pain of losing his father, but he would not spare Uther the pain of losing his son.
Distantly, he heard Gaius enter the room. He didn’t even glance at his mentor, instead choosing to focus his gaze on Arthur. The prince hadn’t moved. He was waiting for Merlin’s answer, he knew. He wanted to do what was right, but he didn’t want to kill his father. He was looking for a way out.
Merlin would give him one, but it would not be the way out he was hoping for.
“I know what your mother said.” He spoke gently, trying to sooth Arthur as he slowly crept forward. “And I know what he has done.”
“Then you agree he has to die.” Arthur’s voice was hard, anger giving it an edge sharper than steel.
Yes, Merlin though, though he couldn’t say it. Not when he knew what the consequences would be.
“I agree he deserves to face justice.” Merlin said, trying and failing to catch Arthur’s eye. “I believe that everything your mother told us was the truth, and that any crimes he has committed should be repaid in full.” He hesitated, took three more quick steps until he reached Arthur’s side. “But I also think you should put the sword down. This isn’t how this should be done Arthur, and you know it.”
Finally, finally, Arthur looked at him. It was easy to see the fury in his eyes. What was harder to see was the heartbreak, the sting of betrayal, but Merlin knew Arthur well. He couldn’t hide anything from him, not anymore.
“He killed her. He betrayed both of us.” Arthur said weakly, and even though there wasn’t a trace of wetness in his eyes, Merlin could hear the tears in his voice.
“I know.” Merlin swallowed thickly, and gently pushed the sword away from Uther’s chest. “But I know you. No matter how angry you are, no matter how much he deserves it, you would never want to kill you father.” He stepped fully between father and son, his hand gripping Arthur’s arm tight. “You would never forgive yourself.”
Arthur shook his head, but it was weak, barely a protest at all, and Merlin knew he had almost done it. He squeezed Arthur’s arm, then ran his hand down till he could tug at the sword hilt still clutched loosely in Arthur’s hand.
“Remember what your mother said.” He murmured gently, tugging again. “Don’t let this information change you Arthur. She wouldn’t want you to do this.”
Arthur sucked in a ragged breath, then another, and then his hand opened, and Merlin was able to take the sword from him. Arthur turned away, fists clenching and unclenching by his side for a moment as everyone in the room held their breath.
“Do you deny it?” Arthur asked, quiet and cold. Merlin shivered under the force of it. “Do you deny that you were responsible for my mother’s death? That I was born of magic?”
“I swear on my life.” Uther began hoarsely, and Merlin wondered how deluded he was in his own lies to continue believing he was innocent of all blame. “That I loved your mother. There isn't a day passes that I don't wish that she were still alive. I could never have done anything to hurt her.”
“But you would have done anything for an heir.” Arthur said, and was met with silence. The prince snorted, a dark and ugly sound. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I am not your son- you are not my father. Not anymore.”
Arthur strode for the door, and for a moment Merlin was too frozen to follow. Arthur passed Gaius and Leon, and only stopped when Uther spoke up again.
“You would turn your back on your father and your crown based on the words of a sorceress?”
Merlin stiffened, and he wondered for a second if he would succumb to his own anger and use Arthur’s sword to end the tyrant king once and for all. But no, he couldn’t do that, wouldn’t do that. Not to Arthur. Never to Arthur.
Arthur turned his head to the side and spat. “I would believe the words of my mother over those of a hypocrite and a murderer.”
Merlin saw Uther flinch out of the corner of his eye. He felt that small part of his rise up again, a dark kind of joy at seeing his personal monster look so broken. But then Arthur was moving out of the room again, and Merlin was no longer frozen, so he threw the sword on the council table and ran after his friend.
Gaius, he was sure, sent him some kind of look as he passed. Leon may have as well. He didn’t pay attention to either of them. They weren’t important right now. There was only one person that was, and he was striding away faster than Merlin could walk.
Merlin only caught up to Arthur after he had slammed the door to his chambers shut. Merlin winced, and wondered if the wood might give out one day soon after another one of those slams. Then he shook the thought from his head and pushed forward, not bothering to knock. He never did.
Arthur was standing by the fire pit, peering into the unlit fire. Merlin could see the shaking of his shoulders from the door, knew as he got closer he would see tears of pain and betrayal in his friends’ eyes. It made his own heart hurt, to see his friend hurt in such a way.
He closed and locked the door behind him, not wanting to risk anyone disturbing them. Not right now. He moved forward, for once gliding across the ground with grace, not a single clumsy step in his movements. His magic buzzed through him, and Merlin wished he could use it to stop the hurt somehow.
“My whole life has been a lie.” Arthur whispered quietly, and Merlin’s heart broke all over again.
“Come on Arthur.” He murmured, resting a hand on Arthur’s arm. “Let’s get you out of that armour.”
Arthur let him pull him away from the fire, let him strip him of the heavy metal of his armour. Merlin worked quickly, fingers confident and sure with the knowledge that he had done this hundreds of times. By the time he was finished Arthur was shaking even harder. Merlin recognized the confusing mix of anger and sadness in Arthur’s eyes, knew it was something only time could ever hope to heal.
“Come sit.” He said, tugging on Arthur’s arm again until he sat in a chair in front of the fireplace. “I’ll get a fire going.”
He was crouched down with flint and steel in hand when Arthur spoke again.
“So many people are dead. So many innocent people, dead, because of his lies.” Arthur made a sound of pain, deep in his throat. “I’ve killed so many in his name Merlin. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, and I-“
Merlin cursed and his eyes flashed as he quickly spelled a fire into existence and turned to Arthur. He crouched in front of his friend, cradling his hands in his own. It was horrible, watching Arthur fall apart like this.
“Hey, Arthur, look at me.” Arthur refused to meet his gaze, but Merlin made him, tilting his head until he was staring into tearful blue eyes. “You are not to blame for any of that.”
Arthur shook his head and tried to shake his hands off him, but Merlin held on tight. “How can you say that- how can you possibly- I should have known Merlin-“
“No!” Merlin yelled, with more force than he had meant. Arthur fell quiet. “No.” He repeated, gentler this time. “You were doing what you thought was right. What you’d been taught was right. You couldn’t have known Arthur, please, don’t blame yourself for your fathers lies.”
“He’s not my father.” Arthur growled. Merlin knew he meant it. “I can’t see him as my father, not anymore.”
Merlin nodded. “Alright. The King, then.”
“I’m not so sure he should be that either.” Arthur muttered. “All my life I’ve been taught that to be a king is to be honorable and noble. It means you have a duty to protect those that you rule, to keep them from harm.” He sighed, shoulders slumped. “He’s done none of that.”
Merlin’s throat closed up. He wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure what he could say. Uther was, in Merlin’s humble opinion, the worst king to ever exist. If asked, there was only one thing he had ever done right, and he was sitting right in front of him. No matter how he had been conceived, Merlin was selfishly grateful Arthur had been born. He’d stopped being able to imagine a life without him for a long time now.
“You won’t make his mistakes.” Merlin breathed, gaining Arthur’s attention again. “You’ll be the greatest king to ever rule, and I promise I will always be by your side.”
Arthur laughed, though it was a small and disbelieving sound. “You’ll be my servant until the day you die?”
Merlin smiled, sincere. “Gladly.”
Arthur shook his head and finally pulled his hands away. “How can you still believe in me?” He asked, and Merlin hated how broken it sounded. “I’ve done so much wrong Merlin. More than even you know.”
Merlin sighed and sat down on the floor properly. “We’ve all done wrong Arthur.” This earned him a questioning look that he ignored. “What matters is how we try and right those wrongs. And I know you. You’ll do whatever you can to right a wrong, even if it wasn’t your own.”
Quiet descended upon the room as Arthur digested all that Merlin has said. Merlin left him to it, moving around the room quietly. There were several pairs of socks thrown about the room, and Arthur would be needing a bath before bed tonight. He grabbed Arthur’s sleeping tunic from his wardrobe and laid it out on the bed, glancing at Arthur as he did.
He hadn’t moved from his chair. Merlin stopped for a moment, just watching. Arthur was staring into the fire. He couldn’t see the look on his face from where he was, but from the back he was the picture of lonely misery. It made Merlin’s feet move back towards him before he was even aware of what he was doing.
He stopped next to Arthur’s chair, surprised when Arthur looked up at him, eyes dry and determined.
“I am indebted to you, Merlin.” He said, shocking him further. “It is clear to me now that those who practice magic aren’t inherently evil or dangerous. And that is thanks to you.”
Merlin’s breath caught. “Glad I could help.” He breathed out slowly, heartbeat loud in his ears. “Do you really mean that?”
“Of course.” Arthur frowned slightly. “How can I not, after all I have learned today?”
Merlin could have cried. Now was, perhaps, not the time to reveal his secret. Now was probably a horrible time to reveal his secret. It might just confuse Arthur more. He could take Merlin’s lies and see them as a betrayal, and he wasn’t sure Arthur could handle another betrayal so soon.
But his whole being was practically singing with happiness. He’d never really, truly dared to hope to hear those words from Arthur. Even with the dragon telling him all about the future, about their destiny, Merlin never really let himself wonder what it might be like. That road had always led to madness, something he had learned as a young child.
“I need to tell you something.” He blurted, before he could stop himself.
Arthur raised an eyebrow tiredly. “What?”
There was no playful ridicule in his tone, no banter for Merlin the fall back on. Merlin was glad. He wouldn’t be able to do this if Arthur wasn’t prepared to take him seriously. He breathed deep, and met Arthur’s eyes with just as much determination as Arthur had. It was the determination to right the wrongs of the world, to protect the innocent and weak.
It was the determination to bring magic and peace to the whole of Albion.
Merlin opened his mouth.