Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This day was just not working out for Arthur.

First his servant had woken him at an ungodly hour, which had him questioning whether he had any sleep at all. Then said servant had served him a completely inappropriate breakfast, which only managed to weigh him down later in training. His favorite sword breaking in a very unfortunate accident involving Sir Percival couldn't possibly be his servant's fault, but not providing the knight with any appropriate first aid certainly was. And finally, when the bells rang to notify an emergency, his servant was nowhere to be seen. This led to him facing off against Morgana and her army with only half of his armor on and no sword in hand.

He was seriously considering to have George flogged, when all of this was over.

He never should have given Merlin leave to visit his mother. Sure. It had sounded like the right thing to do at the time. Hunith had unfortunately broken her arm, which was bad enough in and of itself. But according to Merlin right now was the middle of harvesting season, which apparently was the one time a farmer could not afford to be incapacitated. So being the generous king he was, Arthur had given Merlin two weeks to go back to Ealdor and help his mother out.

Things only went downhill from there.

For weeks there had been some civil unrest at the border to Lot's kingdom. Now the skirmish finally seemed to escalate. So he was forced to send his best men to deal with it. Of the Knights of the Round Table only Sir Percival had remained... Until his knee got injured in training, which had absolutely nothing to do with Arthur being sleepy. No. Kings are never sleepy. And the wound hadn't seemed that critical at first. Usually Merlin would just wrap it up and everything would be quite well again after a bit of rest. Not today.

Today was the day Morgana decided to have another go at the crown. She had swept through the citadel with her mercenaries and met little to no resistance until she arrived at the courtyard, where Arthur had rallied a last stand with his knights, which at this point mostly consisted of untested recruits. So it came as no surprise to Arthur, when the witch bellowed a spell and he lost control over his body. He saw all of his men frozen in place and was forced to his knees by Morgana's command.

The only thing he could move was his head, so he tried to at least take a closer look at his enemies. Even from this limited position he could see that they were vastly outnumbered. The mercenaries seemed well trained and were well equipped. Every man was carrying at least one close range weapon as well as a crossbow. While some of them were guarding the knights, the others were currently herding scared civilians into the courtyard. Seeing their king on his knees in front of the mad witch didn't seem to give them much hope for their current dilemma.

Morgana however was clearly enjoying this as she leisurely circled around him with a taunting smile on her lips. "Well, dear brother. I had expected a bit more resistance from you. Is that all you've got? Or did you finally decide to hand the throne back to its rightful queen?"

"You are no queen of Camelot. You lost that right, when you turned against us and betrayed your people."

Her mood immediately soured. "I turned against you?! No, brother dearest. You turned against me long before I left. You and your father would have killed me on the spot, had you known who I am and what I can do."

"I would have–" He couldn't finish that sentence. To be true, he didn't know what he would have done. Morgana saved him from formulating an answer, when she went on.

"Yes. You and all of your rotten people would have watched in glee as I burn to an agonizing death on the pyre. So I think it's high time to return the sentiment." With a nod all of her men loaded their crossbows and took aim... at the civilians.

"No! Morgana! They have nothing to do with this. Your quarrel is with me. They have done nothing wrong!" He was pleading. He knew that, but he didn't care. There was nothing else he could do to protect his people from this grueling end.

"Have they now? I don't need people, who would rat out their neighbors to a tyrant king. And as you seem to care for them so dearly, I will make sure that you watch as they scream and bleed and die a slow and just as agonizing death! Guards!" In a way that was eerily similar to his father, she raised her hand in an unmistakable command and...

"NO."

Arthur shuddered. He had heard a lot of commands in his life. Being the son of the king himself meant being exposed to high authority on a daily basis. His father had possessed what little prince Arthur had dubbed the 'king-voice'. Whenever he used his king-voice, there was no argument. No one ever dared to disobey the king-voice. But never in his life had Arthur heard anything remotely like that one word that had just rung through the courtyard. That spoke of power. That spoke of absolute authority. Disagreeing with that would certainly mean signing your own death sentence. The mercenaries seemed to agree as they hesitated. Some cautiously lowered their aim.

"What?!" Compared to that voice Morgana's reaction sounded more like a tiny squeak. Arthur would have almost laughed at it, had the situation not been so dire. 

"Who dares defy me, the Last High Priestess of the Old Religion and rightful Queen of Camelot?!"

Somewhere in the further part of the peasant crowd a little commotion broke out as people presumably tried to move out of the way for someone. Morgana must have missed it however because she kept squeaking at no one in particular.

"Too much of a coward to come forth? Are you just going to hide behind all these peasants? That is quite alright with me. I will slaughter every single one of them until I have found you little rat. Guards!" As one all the mercenaries hefted their crossbows back onto the by now panicking crowd of civilians. Arthur could do nothing to stop it. He was utterly helpless against her magic and felt nothing but shame as he closed his eyes in front of the terror that was about to unfold. But then...

"NO. NO MORE."

Arthur realized with a start that he knew this voice. But that was impossible. That was impossible on so many levels. He could never... With one last push the crowd parted and revealed none other than Merlin. Except that he wasn't Merlin at all. At least he didn't seem so to Arthur. Merlin was supposed to be his clumsy idiot of a manservant that always had a glint of an impertinent grin in his eyes. So this couldn't be his Merlin. Granted, he wore the same raggedy clothes he always did, but that was where the similarities stopped. This Merlin held himself like a king. Gone was the stumble in his step. His posture was straight and his eyes spoke of a grim determination he wouldn't have thought possible. His whole demeanor seemed to radiate power.

"I have hidden for far too long. But NO MORE."

Chapter Text

Merlin did what he knew to do best: Hiding the fact that he was completely panicking on the inside.

He was hard pressed to turn around, search through the crowd until he found Gaius and scream 'I TOLD YOU SO!' to his face. 'Go visit your mother', he had said. 'Camelot won't fall that easily', he had said. 'Arthur took good care of himself for almost two decades until you arrived. He will manage two weeks.' Two weeks my ass! The prat hadn't even lasted two days. TWO DAYS! He hadn't even arrived at Ealdor before turning around and riding back at breakneck speed.

He was however extremely pleased to note that the new perimeter he had set around the city did his work even over greater distances. After long nights of brooding and experimenting he had finally found a way to create a sort of barrier that signaled to him whenever something magical would pass through it. This had led to some very tiring sprints through the whole city at some ungodly hours in the beginning. When he had gotten multiple signals in the very early morning hours, he had thought a little army of sorcerers must have infiltrated the lower town and were surely wrecking havoc by now. As it turned out he simply wasn't the only one hiding right under the king's nose. There was a surprising number of people, that had been living in Camelot for way longer than he had who, upon entering the city, caused a gentle shiver to run down his spine. Arthur had even commented on him catching a cold because of all his shivering. He had almost decided to put the perimeter down again, since the whole idea suddenly seemed to invade people's privacy on a level he just wasn't comfortable with. But then, just yesterday, he was watering his horse, when out of nowhere the vilest creature he could ever imagine seemed to crawl itself along his back.

So of course he immediately galloped back as if possessed by the devil himself. And of course he arrived to a scene cut straight out of his nightmares. From horseback he could see Arthur and his knights kneeling on the ground, pinned by magic, surrounded by some kind of army and currently conversing with Morgana. Of course. Who else? One should think she would get tired of it by now. Merlin certainly was.

So. What to do? What to do? Think quick. They were talking. Talking was good. Talking was not dying. He got off his horse and marched into the courtyard. First he needed to get to them and that meant getting through the crowd of seemingly all of Camelot's citizens. Wait. Why were they even here?

"Why is no one running away?"

Multiple people in the last row actually jumped in surprise before turning around. The old lady from the bakery down street was the first to recover from her shock: "Oh, Merlin dear! Don't frighten me like that. My heart has taken enough stress for today. Aren't you supposed to be visiting your mother?"

"Sorry Margret. Didn't mean to. And I was, but then... Never mind! What is actually going on here?!"

"The usual. Morgana is trying to take over. And believe me, we wouldn't be here after the last time she decided to discipline the knights by shooting us, but she has blocked off the yard by magic. No one can leave." She gestured to the general direction of the gates to the lower town and turned back to listen to the ongoings at the front as everyone else did. 

Merlin took one glance at the gate, spotted the red glowing rune on the wall and just shook his head. No finesse at all. For his barrier he had removed some of the bricks in the wall and carved the runes on the inside of it before putting the stones back in and thus efficiently hiding his highly illegal spell work. He somewhat took offense at Morganas lazily executed smears on the gates.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" He took a hammer from a nearby weapon stand and (with a tiny magical boost to his strength) slammed it into the wall. The people in the last line jumped again, turned and stared at him. The rune crumbled to the ground and flickered out of existence. Merlin took a cautious step out of the gate and, upon meeting no resistance whatsoever, declared: "See? No problem."

Now onto the real tricky stuff. How would he get out of this with his secret intact? Even if the civilians would snap out of their shocked stupor and finally start to evacuate the soon to be battlefield, he would still be surrounded by a bunch of knights to hide from. Not to mention the enemy soldiers, who upon closer inspection all carried crossbows. Some of wich were angled precariously close to the crowd... Oh no.

As he marched back into the yard and ignored all the people staring at him, he could finally make out bits of what the royals were talking about at the front. And he did not like the sound of it. This was about to go terribly wrong and he had no idea, how to prevent it. There was no convenient tree branch to drop or sword to heat. No time to research the perfect spell to save them all and not even a shadow to hide in. Just him and all of Camelot. The soldiers were now raising their bows. Merlin had to make a choice: He could reveal who he was or let these people die. So naturally...

There was no choice at all.

He steeled himself for what he was about to do. This had gone for far too long. Every time he stepped away more people were going to suffer. Not this time. This time, he would save them. All of them. This time, he would end it. Once and for all. So he loosened his grip on his magic and as he called out to Morgana, he noticed a bit of dragon tongue slipping into his voice.

"NO."

Chapter Text

Morgana was irritated. 

First of all the citadel had fallen way too easy. This was her... fifth/sixth... She had actually lost count how many times she had invaded Camelot. Granted, she had prepared well. She had bidden her time and sought out well trained and renowned mercenaries for her army. Then she had instigated a small skirmish at the border to Lot's kingdom to thin out the ranks of the knights. All the while she had trained and researched the ways of the Old Religion and found new spells to add to her arsenal. Anchoring the spell that held all the knights in place, to a crystal instead of her own magic was certainly one of her grander ideas. This way the spell would not falter, even if she would get distracted by a certain meddlesome servant. She would definitely not make that mistake again anytime soon. So all in all she was very prepared for her endeavors. But still... this was supposed to be a challenge. And now she had her brother kneeling in the dirt in record time. Something was definitely very wrong here.

And just as she had come to the conclusion that the old gods must be smiling upon her today, someone tried to ruin her day by interrupting this very satisfactory moment, where her brother was supposed to hand over the kingdom to her. And as always it turned out to be him. Now that she thought about it... Where had he even been up until now? This little pest was always either buzzing around Arthur or sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Never mind. What could he even do? She had already won, so she might as well take her time and enjoy this.

"Well, well, well if it isn't good old Merlin. Care to join us at last?"

He didn't jibe back at her. He just stood there and stared her dead in the eye. Morgana would never admit to it, but it was eerily unsettling.

"What's this? Have I actually managed to shut up that famously loose mouth of yours? Are you too scared to answer? No last words before I slaughter you and all your lowly friends behind you?"

His eyes seemed to harden even more, but finally he answered: "I told you before and I will say it one last time. It doesn't have to be like this. We can still find another way. Stop this madness and we can solve this together."

That was it? That was his grand diversion for the knights to save the day while she was distracted? Disappointing. After everything went way too easy, she had expected at least him to do a better job. Very well. So be it. She put on her best evil smirk as she answered him: "I told you before and I will say it one last time. There is no other way... FIRE!!!"

As one all her men released the arrows from their crossbows. She watched in excitement as they shot out to all the peasants in front of her. Puny little Merlin raised his hands in a useless attempt to shield himself from the deadly projectiles.

And suddenly the world stopped.

But no. The people were still cowering in fear. Mothers were still trying to shoo their kids behind themselves into questionable safety. It was just the arrows hovering unmoving in the air, about three feet away from their intended targets. Only then did she see his eyes.

"I said NO!", his voice boomed through all of Camelot.

And with a flick of his hands all the arrows turned around and shot back to their owners. However, the expected screams of pain didn't reach her. As Morgana dared a glance to her men, she saw them frozen in fear as every single mercenary had an arrow only an inch away from his throat.

"Impossible." She had not noticed herself muttering out loud and got startled out of her stupor by the fellow sorcerer's answer.

"I told you that I understood. And believe me Morgana, I regret many things in our shared history. But you have gone too far. This has to end."

He had known. All this time he had known. She had trusted him. She had told him. And he had just let her fall. Into misery. Into fear. Into loneliness. Terror. Madness. Hate. Hate. Hate! At that moment Morgana's hatred for Merlin far surpassed any feelings she held for Uther or his son. The whole world bled out of existence until there was only her and this gold-eyed traitor!

She summoned a fireball and threw it at him. Then another and another and another. She barely registered all of them flickering out of existence a few feet from him, when they hit his shield. He didn't even use a spell. 

She changed tactics. About ten swords unsheathed themselves from her mercenarie's belts and shot at him from all directions. They splintered into dust upon impact. He didn't even move. 

She called upon the earth to rip itself beneath his feet. As the ground shook and a deep chasm broke out of the ground, she was sure to see the last of him. But it just kneaded itself back together before him. He didn't even blink.

"THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! YOU'R NOTHING BUT A SERVANT!" She had overexerted herself. She was covered in sweat and panting heavily. How could this be? How could this puny, little, unimportant, idiotic... Dread was slowly creeping into her. It couldn't be. He couldn't be... All this time...

"I am much more than that." He paused, looked up at the sky and seemed to deliberate on something before he looked back at her and announced firmly: "The druids call me Emrys."

This was it.

All this time. All her scheming and planning and she never would have seen it coming. She always knew, even if she didn't like to think about it, that Emrys was out there somewhere – planning her doom and occasionally preventing her attempts at the crown. But this was personal. This hit way closer to home and it was now and here and this would be her undoing. She felt it in her bones. This was destiny unfolding. And she despised it. She reviled it so much. This may be her doom, but she would take this traitor down with her into hell! So she raised her hands to the sky and chanted. She chanted the most powerful spell she knew. The darkest forbidden magic Morgause had banned her from using because this power came with the ultimate sacrifice. But it would be worth it. It would be worth every second she would spend in hell, because he would too. 

Finally the traitor seemed to realize his imminent fate, because he frantically raised his hands for the first time since she had started her decidedly one-sided duel. She fuzzily heard him bellow out a spell.

And everything fell into darkness.

Chapter Text

Merlin felt a little out of his depth. He had done it. He had revealed himself. In front of all of Camelot no less. Now he was about to fight Morgana head on. This felt strange. Wrong. He'd always hidden at the sidelines and all his usual tactics resolved around not being recognized as a threat until he could sneakily deal with whoever was threatening Arthur at the moment. That was not going to cut it this time though. He was slowly working himself into a state of panic, while trying to seem stoic on the outside. He had no idea if it was working or not, but hiding all those secrets for the past years had to amount to something, didn't it?

Then the first fireball hit his shield. Huh. Well... Fire he could deal with. His shield had withstood dragon fire before so he wasn't particularly worried about these mediocre flames. Then the swords came flying. So he willed his shield to change its effect a little. This was turning out easier than he would have thought. He did admit to himself that turning the swords to dust might have been a bit flashy on his part, but whatever. He had hidden for so long... Might as well come out with a bang. When the ground split apart, he was a little surprised, but forced himself to stay strong. The earth had always been his friend, so he wasn't too worried as he asked the earth to stop and helped her to heal herself. And sure enough everything folded itself back together almost of its own volition.

Morgana was panting heavily now. In her fury she had misjudged her own strength and hit her limits. "THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! YOU'R NOTHING BUT A SERVANT!" No. No he wasn't and it was time for all to see it.

"I am much more than that." He took a deep breath. Should he tell them? Having magic was one thing, but outing himself as presumably 'the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth' with this grand destiny? Well he had gone this far already. He might as well go all the way.

"The druids call me Emrys."

And with these words something seemed to slot into place. He could feel it in his bones. Maybe it was just because he finally accepted his role in this grand scheme of destiny. Maybe it was because he had finally said it out loud - his secrets finally off his shoulders and for all the world to see. In this moment he felt free like never before. His power seemed to settle into him. For once he didn't have to cramp it down to avoid magical mishaps. He was himself. And for the very first time the title 'Emrys' didn't seem so scary anymore. Destiny was about to unfold and it would be golden.

That was when Morgana started chanting. Merlin tried to make out the spell, but came out blank. He had never heard most of these words before. They seemed old. Older than even the Old Religion. Magic of the darkest kind was gathering around the witch. The energy was so dense and unmistakably evil that he could almost taste it. It was all he could do not to throw up on the spot. He had no idea what she was doing and he didn't want to find out. Ever. He would not let her finish this spell. So he did what first crossed his mind and what he probably should have done a lot sooner.

"Swefe nu!"

Distracted as Morgana was, she didn't shield herself against him. The sleeping spell hit her straight on and she instantly crumbled to the ground. The unfinished spell dissipated and the dark energy ebbed away. 

Merlin sighed in deep relief. Whatever that was, it would have definitely been bad. Seeing the mad witch defeated on the ground he almost sunk to his knees in relief. But then he remembered her army and assessed his surroundings. He tried to look at his enemies only and skipped over the people of Camelot. He certainly couldn't deal with all the shocked and disgusted faces of his once friends right now. Not before everyone was safe. He certainly didn't look anywhere near the spot, where the knights and Arth– No! No. Don't think about that. Think about the soldiers.

They still had their crossbow bolts hefted at their necks and looked terrified. While that disturbed Merlin to his core – he never wanted to be feared – he took note that no one seemed eager to continue this fight. They probably only dared to attack Camelot because they feared Morgana more than they feared Arth- Concentrate Merlin! What can you do? 

Those bolts were mostly a bluff, which had worked out better than expected. He had hefted them into a relative distance to their necks, so they would follow their every movement. But with only a few inches to speed up, he didn't expect them to do more than scratch them a bit. At least not, if he released them all at once. He could probably do severe damage, if he accelerated only a few at a time. But he didn't want to do that. That would be pointless bloodshed. Those men were probably Morganas victims too and might leave her behind, if he played his cards right. So he gathered up his courage and announced:

"The witch has fallen!", he paused dramatically. "There is no point to continue this fight any longer. Those of you, who wish to oppose me, may try to do so. But those, who wish to continue their life, may lay down their weapons – slowly – and leave. No harm will come to those, who surrender in peace. It is your choice to make."

Silence.

If the courtyard had been quiet before, now it was completely void of sound. Everyone seemed to hold their breath until finally... The first soldier slowly crouched down, put his crossbow to his feet, drew his sword and cautiously placed it on the ground. With his hands in the air and not breaking eye contact with Merlin he walked to the gates at a snail’s pace – the bolt still hefted to his neck. Seeing their comrade leave into relative safety, the others followed his example and disarmed themselves. One by one they walked through the path that had opened in the crowd of Camelot's citizens to let them through.

Merlin couldn't believe his luck. Not a single one decided to avenge their commander. All of them marched quietly and without resistance all the way to the outer walls of the city. Upon feeling his own magic leave his perimeter, as the first man left Camelot, he let his bolt drop to the floor. 

Suddenly they seemed to be rushing, as he got lots of shivers at once. He dropped his magic accordingly. In the distance he could hear them actually cheering. Seriously. He must have been a lot more convincing in his act than he thought. With the last person leaving the perimeter Merlin’s eyes finally turned from bright gold to his usual blue as he dropped his last spell.

He did it. They were all safe! No one had been hurt and Arthur was safe! Arthur was... Arthur was... right behind him.

What had he done?

His euphoria was instantly replaced with dread. Forgotten was his place as Emrys as he pushed his magic deep down and almost curled into himself. Slowly, very slowly, he turned around and saw his king kneeling on the ground. His face betrayed nothing. Not a single emotion. He looked blank and cold. Guarded in a way that Merlin had never seen before and never wanted to see.

Despair gripped his heart. This wasn't right. Arthur shouldn't look like this. He had been betrayed in the worst of ways. Again. He must hate him. He must hate him so much. Merlin couldn't deal with this. He could deal with all the world thinking him a monster, but not Arthur. His friend. His other half. The other side of his coin. Broken. How could he fix this? He couldn't, could he?

Merlin took a single step towards his king... And fell to his knees.

Chapter Text

Again. He had been betrayed. Again.

Why was it always the ones closest to him? The ones he trusted the most. He had been so blind. He should have known better by now. His sister, his uncle and now his brother. For that is what Merlin was, wasn't he? His brother in everything but blood. He had always been there, right beside him. Merlin had seen him at his best as well as his worst. Always there as an unwavering support in the direst of times. The little insolent nuisance had stumbled into Camelot and wormed himself right into Arthur's heart with his cheeky smile and even cheekier insults. But it had all been an act. He saw that now.

Far gone was the smile. Gone was the clumsiness. In his place stood a sorcerer. Arthur had thought, that as 'the last high priestess of the Old Religion', Morgana would be the final serious magical danger for his kingdom. Sure, there would be a scheming sorcerer here or there, but to him Morgana had been the last great obstacle in the war against magic. How naive he had been. Merlin, if that was even his name... Emrys was clearly much more powerful than the witch. He had toyed with her. He had let her run against his defenses without so much as a flinch and once he got bored of the spectacle, he had killed her with a single word.

His sister was dead. Merlin had killed her with magic. 'Merlin', 'killed' and 'magic' should not belong into a single sentence. It felt wrong, so very wrong. The witch was dead. He should be happy about that at least, shouldn't he? She had brought naught but death and misery to the land and yet... and yet she was his sister. And Merlin had killed her. This was all wrong. So very wrong. Merlin was supposed to be everything that was good and true in this world.

But he wasn't. Arthur had been deceived. He had been completely fooled by this stumbling facade the sorcerer had built before him. It had all been an act. All these years he had lain in wait for this day. This moment. The moment he would finally reveal his true colors and show all of Camelot, how foolish they all had been. The witch was dead. She had probably been his biggest rival in his conquest for the throne. Or would he instead choose to wreck havoc and lay waste to the land like so many others? Arthur would find that out very soon. After all Camelot had already fallen, Emrys had been revealed as the most powerful being in the realm and he, as well as his knights, were still unable to move a muscle. This was his moment of triumph and the sorcerer would surely hold his evil speech now.

He schooled his expression to be as impassive as he could. He refused to show him, how much his betrayal had truly hurt him. He didn't know if he succeeded at all.

After what felt like an eternity to Arthur the powerful sorcerer finally turned to him... And fell to his knees.

... What? Had the fight with Morgana drained him more than he thought? He seemed alright a second ago. What the–  His thoughts were interrupted by Merlin, for he really looked like Merlin now, thrown into the dirt on his knees and with... Were those tears?

"I'm sorry Arthur! So sorry! I wanted to tell you. I always wanted to tell you so much, but I couldn't! I didn't want you to find out like this. I know it's against the law, but I use it for you. Only for you! Always! I didn't choose to betray you! I was born like this. Please! Please forgive me! I didn't mean for this to happen!"

He was rambling. And all out sobbing now. What was going on? Arthur didn't understand. But there was Merlin crying before him and he felt the irrational urge to comfort him. And he still couldn't move. This was all so very irritating.

"Sorcerer!", Merlin seemed to fall apart at this, "If you truly do not wish Camelot any harm, then release us at once!"

"Huh?" Merlin looked up, clearly confused. He stared at Arthur as if waiting for further explanation until his eyes widened comically and he answered articulated as ever: "Oh."

Arthur very much wanted to slap his face.

Merlin shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and without standing up turned to the witche's corpse. He raised his hand towards it. Arthur could hear a faint sound as if something had just broken to pieces and promptly his body jerked forward as he was suddenly required to hold himself upwards. Judging by the rattling sound of armor behind him, his knights had been freed as well.

The King of Camelot finally rose up to his feet with his full fighting force behind him. The sorcerer before him stayed on his knees and stared at the ground like the condemned criminal he probably was. This was a sorcerer. And a powerful one at that. The corruption must be running deep inside him. And yet... this was Merlin.

Silence. Despite being able to, no one moved a muscle. The knights were awaiting orders and all his citizens were watching and waiting for his verdict. As was Merlin, he realized with a start. He could blow them all sky high, but he was awaiting his verdict. As if it wasn't clear already. There was only one verdict for the act of sorcery. Why was he waiting? Shouldn't he either fight or run by now? Would he just accept his execution? Who would walk to the pyre willingly?

'An idiot' a small voice in the back of his mind told him.
Merlin would. Merlin would walk to the pyre, if Arthur asked him to.

This was wrong. The whole world had stopped to make any sense. He needed to understand. Understand anything. So he steeled his voice – he really didn't want it to break right now and in front of all of Camelot – and asked one question: "Why?"

The whole of Camelot seemed to take in a breath, they didn't realize they were holding. Merlin looked up to his king in surprise. Arthur didn't realize this, but with that one word he had given Merlin a chance. A chance no other sorcerer had ever gotten. A chance to explain himself. This was a trial now. Not the fake trial, that only served as a justification for an execution, but a real trial with his verdict not yet decided.

Chapter Text

Arthur watched as Merlin’s face flashed from surprise to confusion to understanding to hopefulness and finally seemed to settle at determination. Even though he was still kneeling, he sat up a little straighter. His tears had dried and his voice was almost steady as he answered:

"Why what, sire? Why did I protect my home and loved ones to the best of my abilities? Why did I not tell said loved ones of the very illegal abilities I had not chosen, but been born with, knowing that if they ever found out they would either abandon me or risk burning beside me? Why would I protect those, who would see me burn even though I care deeply for them? Or why am I still here instead of running and leaving my home and everything I hold dear behind me?"

"What are you trying to accomplish here? Magic is evil. It corrupts the heart of even the most pure souls and drives them to insanity. You know this. You've seen this. Why–"

"No I didn't! I have seen how many souls have been persecuted for something they had no choice in. Arthur, I didn't choose to do magic. I was born with it. I could move things around with my mind before I could talk. By your logic I should be an insane calamity on two legs by now."

Arthur thought of him as a calamity on two legs even without the magic, but didn't actually voice the jibe. Instead he argued: "Then how do you explain Morgana?! She used to be so kind, so compassionate. Magic corrupted her. What else could have done that?"

Merlin was silent for a moment. He avoided his eyes as if out of shame before finding his words: "Fear. Bone crushing fear of what she was and what her own family would do to her, if they ever found out she was the very enemy they were trying to eradicate. Can you imagine discovering you have magic, while living under the same roof as Uther?"

He couldn't. If magic really was something you could just accidentally develop, it must have been truly terrifying. He couldn't imagine keeping such a secret in front of his father.

"But still. By that logic shouldn't she have just run and never come back? Why betray Camelot and slaughter all her innocent people?"

Merlin averted his gaze again. Yes. That was definitely shame. Did he blame himself for Morganas betrayal? 

"She was afraid and alone and Morgause was probably the first one to convince her, she wasn't a monster. When someone finally seemed to understand her - was just like her - she jumped at the opportunity to not be alone anymore. She was easily manipulated."

"By the evil sorceress. Of course. You're not making a very good case here. I do not believe Morgana to be so easily manipulated. I also did not believe you could possibly be able to kill a fly, least of all a person", Merlin bit his lip at that, "Yet here we are. Morgana dead an YOU A MURDERER!" 

And this was the real crux of it. Morgana was still his sister and Merlin was supposed to be good. Merlin wasn't supposed to kill his old friend in cold blood and shake it of as if it was nothing.

"I did, what I did, to protect you and... Wait a second. Dead?" Merlin stared at him, utter confusion written on his face. "You think, I killed her?!" Now he stared at him utterly incredulous as if Arthur had affronted him.

"Arthur! That was a sleeping spell! When she wakes up, she might have a stiff neck from lying uncomfortable, but apart from that, she's fine." He gestured to her still form as if to prove his point.

Arthur was baffled. He approached her and after only a few steps he could make out her steady breathing. She was alive. Merlin hadn't killed her. Despite all she had done, Merlin hadn't killed her.

"When... When will she wake up?"

"When I say so or when I die. Whichever comes first. I could wake her right now, if you want, but I would heavily advise against it." He sat there, still kneeling, with his arms crossed in front of him and an eyebrow raised as if daring Arthur into doing something monumentally stupid. The world rightened itself a bit.

"No. Let her sleep. But my argument still stands. Magic brings nothing, but death and destruction."

Merlin slumped a bit at that. "Only because you have never seen someone use magic for good, doesn't mean, it can't be done. Think about it. It's illegal. So of course good, law abiding citizens wouldn't use it. The only sorcerers you have seen are the ones, who have lost everything to the purge and have been consumed by grief, hatred and revenge. The only ones, who would dare to use magic in front of you, are the ones, who are trying to kill you."

That did make sense, he had to admit. But that would only prove a biased view, not necessarily a wrong one. He needed proof. Proof that showed without a doubt, that magic could be a force of good. Even if he could use it without being corrupted, Merlin might prove himself to be the exception to the rule and the only one immune. And what good could magic even do? It was all too shady, too risky. He couldn't topple two decades of belief over the word of one man, even if it was the man he trusted the most. And he did. He did trust Merlin. After all that, he still trusted him. What a fool he must be. He couldn't do this. He was to biased. How could he judge this justly. He knew nothing about magic.

His inner turmoil must have shown on his face. For Merlin looked him deep into his eyes and asked gently, as if talking to a startled animal: "May I show you?" 

May I use my magic for you? Arthur stopped the pacing, he didn't realize he had started. He felt frozen. Not by magic, but something different. Fear? Surprise? Possibility? All of it? This felt important. This felt like the promise of two worlds colliding and dangling on this very moment. 

Merlin looked determined. As if he already knew, what Arthur didn't. He placed his trust into him, as he always had. All those times, in which Merlin had supported him, felt much heavier in the light of recent discoveries. Whenever Arthur had been broken to pieces, it had been Merlin who picked him up and put him back together. Time and time again he had told him of the great king he would be. His king. Despite it all, Arthur was his king and he believed in him. 

So it came as no surprise to him, when Merlin picked up on the tiniest of nods he had given him. Merlin’s eyes lit up immediately, figuratively and literally as he called upon his magic. The air felt static around him. It was pleasant. And familiar. It felt like home and loyalty and safety and... Merlin. How could he have been so blind? This was really a part of him. And he had felt it before. Many times in fact. When he had been alone in the dark and someone gave him light. When a bandit caught him by surprise, but stumbled in the last second. When a breaking tree branch alerted him of imminent danger. All the times, he had woken up in Merlin’s arms and his wounds didn't turn out as severe as he had thought while falling unconscious. He owed him so much. He understood that now.

Arthur got caught out of his musings as Merlin cupped his hands and lifted them to his lips. He breathed into them and slowly opened his hands to reveal a single blue-winged butterfly. It fluttered upwards unto eye level with the king, circled him a bit and then descended down to the ground between him and his sorcerer, where it stayed and lazily stretched its wings.

Arthur couldn't help but stare at it. Had Merlin just created life? Was it just an illusion? Either way it was beautiful and as innocent as it could get. Trust Merlin to find the most girly and sappy way to showcase magic to him. Could he touch it? Would it feel normal or as static as his magic? Could he feel the difference or would his fingers just pass through it maybe? It was fascinating and he couldn't take his eyes off it. 

He didn't realize how long he had been staring at this little innocent creation of magic. He did however realize that Merlin must have misinterpreted his silence, since he looked very unsure and his voice broke as he stuttered: "A-Arthur what–" He got interrupted by a commotion in the ranks of the civilians. Arthur had actually forgotten, all of Camelot was still watching them.

Out of the crowd emerged an old lady with a half empty basket of bread on her arm. Merlin seemed to recognize her as he asked: "Margret? What are you doing?"

Margret stubbornly ignored his question as she settled down next to him and presented the king with her cold bread from this early morning. Arthur wanted to ask for an explanation, but stopped short when her eyes turned golden. As she muttered a quick spell, his hand flew to his sword, only to find it gone. Right. This was still this day. He almost commanded his knights to seize her, but stopped short again as she lifted her basket to him. It was still half empty, but the bread was now steaming and expanding the delicious smell of freshly baked bread. Once again he stared at it, as his mind was racing against him.

Merlin broke him off his thoughts as he whined: "Oh Margret. You shouldn't have done that." The lady however just huffed and placed her basket before him, next to the butterfly. Everything went silent again. Margret stared at him challenging and as she punched Merlin in the ribs, he too seemed to gather himself and after a quick private smile, he looked determined again.

Arthur had almost found his next words as there was a new elderly person to interrupt him. Out of the crowd he saw Gaius hobble towards him. With a slight bow and a quick "Sire." he knelt down with some difficulty and took a potion out of his satchel. He removed the stopper, gathered himself for a moment and spoke some complicated words, Arthur did not understand. The liquid began to boil and changed its color. Gaius looked satisfied with his work as he put down the still boiling potion.

Arthur didn't have time to even think of any answer as a young woman strode purposely before him. He actually recognized her as the flower seller that had been ordered for his wedding to decorate the castle in all of Gwenevere's favorite flowers. Without much of an introduction, she got to her knees, placed her hands on the ground and started mumbling. Arthur almost managed to ask her, what she was doing, as a small stem broke out of the ground. Slowly, but steadily a beautiful blue flower emerged from between the bricks. As she deemed it finished, she leaned back and breathed heavily. She was completely winded from her display, but seemed immensely pleased as she defiantly stared at her king. 

Merlin gently stroked her back and with a blink and you miss it flash of his eyes the woman's breathing evened out. His butterfly settled on the flower and enjoyed its nectar. She smiled thankfully at him, which he answered in kind before returning his gaze to his king.

Arthur shouldn't have been surprised anymore at this point, but as the next person singled himself out of the crowd, he couldn't help but state in a very kingly and definitely not squeaking voice: "George?!"

Walking briskly and with an old helmet in hand, none other than George made his way to the group. He bowed deeply, acknowledged him with a respectful "Your highness", took his seat on the ground, carefully avoiding as much contact with the dirt as possible and uttered a word. All the probably decades old rust and dirt promptly fell from the helmet. 

"I knew it! No one can polish that perfectly without– Oumpf!" Merlin was once again silenced by a hit to his ribs.

George turned the now shining metalwork over to inspect it critically and, seemingly satisfied with his work, put it down to the rest of the trinkets before him. A flower with a butterfly on top, a half full basket of bread, a glass vial and now a shiny new helmet. All of them looked so utterly ordinary. Had he walked past this little ensemble on any other day, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. But today was not any other day. Today these random items stood for much more than themselves.

Arthur closed his eyes. Now this, he really couldn't ignore. These very mundane uses for magic spoke for themselves. They promised life, health, fertile lands and an ease for everyday life. This also proved, that Merlin wasn't the exception to the rule. He was finally ready to announce as such as–

"Mary! NO!", a woman screamed.

A small girl came running towards them and almost fell down as she stopped before them. Merlin seemed like he wanted to intervene, but the child was already creating little bubbles with her mind, a big grin of wonder plastered on her face.

Suddenly she was dragged away from him. Merlin had grabbed her and now stood defensively between the girl and Arthur. The flower girl was short to follow. Arthur was confused for a second. Surely they didn't think, he would hurt the girl. He looked them in the eye. These people that had been standing, well technically kneeling, so proud and determined before him a second ago, now looked utterly terrified. Terrified of him. Terrified of what he would do. Had they marched forward, thinking they were walking to their execution? ... They had, he realized. He hadn't given them anything to think it would be different. They had come forward to prove the goodness of magic, even if they were to die trying.

This was his father’s legacy. Good and upstanding citizens living in terror for something, that was out of their control. Watching as their friends and children burned for creating bubbles and flowers and butterflies. No more.

Arthur took a deep breath and announced for all of Camelot to hear: "From this day forward the ban on magic is repealed. Any and all magic users are free to use their gifts as long as they do not oppose any of Camelot’s other laws."

There was silence. Stunned silence.

Then Margret slowly started to clap and was soon joined by Gaius. Suddenly all of Camelot seemed to break into cheering. A woman sprinted forwards and swiped the little girl into her arms.

"Never do something so reckless again. Do you understand, Mary?"

"But they were showing their secret games to the king. I also wanted to show my game to the king."

Arthur averted his eyes from the two and looked over the crowds. People were crying and dancing and hugging their loved ones. Only a few seemed to be uncomfortable with this turn of events. An old man was huffing and stomping away from the impromptu festival. A few followed warily. Did all the others have magic? That couldn't be, could it? Then he remembered Gwen’s father, who had been falsely accused of aiding a sorcerer. Under Uther’s law even the accusation of consorting with a sorcerer was punishable by death. No one was safe against it. How had he never realized this?

Suddenly something barreled into him – or someone to be precise.

"Merlin?! What are you–"

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Arthur!" He was fiercely being hugged by his manservant turned friend turned sorcerer and couldn't help himself. He hugged him back. After a while of increasingly awkward heart to heart interaction - Arthur really wasn't equipped to handle these things - he broke the hug and increased their distance to arms length, but still held him by his shoulders.

"You still have a lot of explaining to do after this, you know?"

"Of course. I'll tell you everything."

"Just promise me one thing, Merlin."

"Anything", he returned immediately and without hesitation.

Arthur looked him deep into his crystal blue eyes. "No more lies."

"No. No more."

"Good." Arthur paused a moment. "Did you just wipe your snot into my cape?"

"What are you complaining about? I'm the one, who's gonna wash it."