Archive of Our Own

Merlin truly hated diplomatic visits. There was only two options for them- either dreadfully dull or an assassination attempt. Needless to say, Merlin was not a fan of either option. 

“It’ll only be a few days, Gaius. I don’t think I need you entire catalogue of herbs and potions.” Merlin smiled fondly as he watched his mentor beetle around his chambers.

“Yes, but this is Arthur, Merlin, you know what he’s like. Attracts danger, just like you. Put the two of you together and I don’t care that you’re the greatest sorcerer who ever lived, you need some herbs. And besides, you’re dreadful at healing spells, old fashioned medicines are the only thing you’re got.” Merlin conceded the point in his head but would not give Gaius the satisfaction of saying so out loud. “Now, I’ve put everything you might need in there.” Gaius patted the satchel he had placed on the workbench. “Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll be on my rounds when you leave so I won’t be here to remind you.”

“I’ll remember, Gaius.”

“Make sure that you do.” Gaius’s stern looked melted into a smile. When he looked at Merlin he still saw that doe eyed young boy who came to him and saved his life all those years ago. But he also saw the man he had become and he felt pride bubble in his chest. Merlin was going to do great things, destiny or not, Gaius knew that and he made sure Hunnith knew it too. “Go on, get some sleep. You’ve got a long trip. Lord Eastwood’s manor is four days ride.”

“Thanks Gaius.” Merlin grabbed the satchel and paused at his doorway. “Goodnight, I’ll see you in a week.”

“Goodnight, Merlin.”

Morning came too soon for Merlin’s liking. As Gaius had said, he was gone by the time merlin was leaving their rooms that day and Merlin felt a small twinge in his chest at not being able to say a proper goodbye to the man. He wasn’t sure how long he would be gone for, at least nine days, and that was if they only spent a day with Lord Eastwood. It was much more likely to be a nearly two week affair. Merlin was not looking forward to it.

Merlin hesitated as he left the rooms for the final time. At the last second he snatched up the satchel of herbs and medicines and slung it over his shoulder.

“Merlin!” Arthur called over to his manservant when he saw him approaching from the stairs to the physicians chambers. “Hurry up. We have four days of riding ahead and we don’t need you slowing us down.” Merlin rolled his eyes but jogged a little faster to get to the horses. Arthur had his most trusted knights around him, Leon, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan, the same men who had never left his side since he took the throne after his father’s death. It had been a difficult few months since his coronation, some of the kingdom had not been quite ready to accept the new king as the stories of a young bully were only just reaching their ears. They had little to no recent news of the more noble and recent endeavours of their king, a situation which Merlin himself had set out to rectify. The Lords had been restless at the uncertainty, and as a king with no Queen and no sign of any heirs coming some were wondering who Arthur would name his successor and all vying for his attention. Arthur had been inundated with gifts and visits in the whirlwind since the coronation, so much so that Merlin had forgotten at least half of the names, despite having served each and every one of them. But then, Merlin reasoned, he did have more important things to concern himself with. Like destiny and the Once and Future King and how to keep him alive when the man seemed to attract danger like a flame attracted a moth.

“Oh, go easy on him, Princess.” Gwaine slapped Arthur’s shoulder. “He was probably at the tavern all night, can’t expect a man to be full speed after a good night of fun and drink can you?” Gwaine sent an exaggerated wink at Merlin who rolled his eyes and started tending to the horses and making sure they had everything that thy needed.

“Well?” Arthur asked.

“What?” Merlin responded around the leather strap he was holding between his teeth. He wondered why he ever let anyone do anything because he only ended up having to redo it himself to make up for their failures.

“Were you really at the tavern last night, Merlin?”

“Of course, Arthur. I went to the tavern the night before a four day ride because I’m just that much of a dollop head.” Merlin tugged a strap to secure the belongings to a horse and turned to face Arthur, his face showing just how unimpressed he was with the question.

“Well, you never know with you. Seems you’re always at the tavern.” How Merlin wished that he could tell Arthur exactly what he had been doing to save the idiot’s life all those times that Gaius had told him he was at the tavern, but that would have to wait. Arthur wasn’t ready to hear about that yet. Instead merlin sighed and kept working on the horses.

“All set.”

“I don’t know why you have to check everything twice before we leave, honestly most people are far more competent at their jobs than you. In fact, all people are far more competent at their jobs than you and do it all right the first time.” Arthur swung himself onto his horse and the knights followed suit. Merlin was the last one to join them and trotted over to Arthur as he led the way out of the gates and along the streets of Camelot. The ride was silent for the most part until they broke onto the main roadway from Camelot and Merlin could not stand the silence any longer.

“So, who exactly is it we’re going to see?” He asked Arthur.

“Really, Merlin, do you ever listen? A cousin from my mother’s side. Distant really but since Mother’s family was so small even the distant relatives seem quite close really. Lord Eastwood and his son, Harold, haven’t visited the castle since I was small. Four days seemed too long for them to travel when Harold was young, and since my mother died, father had little patience for any of her relatives. Plus, they had their own estate to run so they just never came around again.”

“Right.” Merlin was sceptical. “So, why are we going now?”

“Because, apparently, Lord Eastwood has been talking of a coup and I need to go and find out why.”

“Surely you know why, he wants power.”

“Not everything is that simple, Merlin. Honestly, it’s like you’ve not learned a thing in the years that you’ve been working for me. You would think that being around the castle for so long that you would’ve learned a thing or two. But of course, what am I thinking, you wouldn’t notice a giant dragon unless it hit you in the face.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Merlin murmured.

“Would I? Really, Merlin? You know, I think if you told me that you’d learned something I really would be surprised.”

“Well then, prepare to be surprised. Just last week I learned that you are an even bigger clot pole than I thought.” Merlin grinned.

“Oh am I now? And how did you learnt that, Merlin, and be careful this is your king you’re talking to.”

“Well you see, I was preparing your bath last week and you decided to throw scalding water at me. That was when I learnt that your clot poleness was greater than anyone could ever have imagined.”

“Ah, but that wasn’t my clot poleness, as you so eloquently put, it was in fact your own ineptitude at drawing a bath the right temperature.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, sire.” Merlin smiled. The rest of the day was filled with mostly mindless chatter and Gwaine reading them with tales of his exploits in his pre-knight days. Merlin  was sure he had heard a few of them before but each time Gwaine told them there would be something different about the way he described something that kept them all enthralled. They made camp for the night just before dusk and Merlin set about making food for them all.

“I’ll take first watch.” Arthur said and settled down at the base of a tree. “Everyone get some rest. I’m hoping to cover more ground tomorrow, reach the Eastwood estate before dusk in three days time.” The knights and Merlin nodded and settled in for the night. Merlin though did not sleep much that night as he was too busy being concerned about attacks that might come while they were out in the open. Something was setting his nerves on edge and he couldn’t yet place his finger on just what it was. He could only hope that it wasn’t going to be something life threatening.

The next three days passed in much the same way, though with less chatting as time wore on. Even Gwaine and Merlin together could not keep up the chatter the whole way through. The only difference was that Merlin was getting more exhausted by the day. He had been trying to sleep but that feeling just wasn’t going away and it was eating at his insides. Turning them inside out and making Merlin feel sick.

The Eastwood estate came into view just after noon on the fourth day. It was still a few hours ride away but Merlin was relieved to see that the end was in sight. While riding was preferable to walking such long distances, he had never really got used to riding for so long in the years he had been with Arthur though he really should have.

Merlin spent the last of the ride in silence as the worry gnawing at him got worse. He felt about ready to fall off his horse if he didn’t give it his full concentration. 

The Eastwood estate was impressive, as any estate was to a boy from Ealdor, but nothing compared to the grandeur of Camelot. The large manor looked out over vast farmlands with scattered homes across the landscape. Further to the north a small cluster of homes made up the local village who answered to the Lord Eastwood, the villagers that he had apparently been whipping up to rebellion if the reports were to be believed. It was both the goodness in Arthur and his regard for their familial link that led Arthur to come here personally instead of inviting the offending party to the castle as he normally would to sort this kind of thing out.

Eastwood was waiting out front for their arrival with his son Harold stood just off to the side behind him. Arthur dismounted his horse first, followed by the nights and then Merlin who gave half of his attention to the stablehand coming to help with the horses and the other half to the interaction going on between Eastwood and Arthur.

“Sire, my Lord, it is good to have you here.” Eastwood smiled. “You are a most honoured guest.”

“Lord Eastwood, it has been too long. We really should make more time to meet with family. I hope this visit proves fruitful for all involved.”

“I’m sure it will, Sire. Allow me to introduce, or rather reintroduce, my son. King Arthur, this is Harold. I’m sure you don’t remember playing together when you were boys but I hold the memory waite fondly. It was the first, and last, time I managed to read out to Uther, may he rest in peace.”

“Yes, I hold a vague memory of that time and it is coloured with fondness.”

“Glad to hear it. Shall we make our way inside? I will have my servants show you to your rooms and you and your knights can settle in for the night. I will have supper served to you all as it is getting so late.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Eastwood. I look forward to talking more tomorrow.” Arthur clasped Eastwood’s hand and led them all inside. Merlin took as many bags from the horses as he could and tried to follow them. He smiled when he saw the knights jog over to help him.

“Chin up, Merlin.” Gwaine nudged Merlin with a grin. “We’ll help you get princess all set up.”

“Thanks. I’m glad Arthur is surrounded by you lot.”

“Even with Gwaine’s drunken escapades?” Elyan joked.

“Yeah, even then I suppose.”

“Oi!” The knights laughed and shouldered the last of the bags.

“Oh, careful with that one.” Merlin called to Percival. “You know what, I’ll take it. Gaius filled it with herbs and things. I ought to keep it on me. Who knows what you lot would end up doing if I left you alone with this stuff.” Merlin tugged the bag over his shoulder.

“I think Leon knows a thing or two about herbs and medicines with all his years in the field.” Gwaine winked. Merlin marvelled at his ability to make anything sound like an innuendo but Leon took it in his stride as he always did.

“I do know some emergency field medicine. I had Gaius teach me one time just in case.” Leon led them through the entrance to the manor and followed the waiting servants through the hallways.

Merlin wandered into Arthur’s rooms unannounced, as he would normally, and dropped the luggage in the corner of the room. He started unpacking Arthurr’s belongings coupled with his signature incessant chatting as Arthur had taken to mentally dubbing it. Usually Arthur was happy to indulge Merlin on his longer rambles but tonight he was tired and he was concerned. Hearing Eastwood speak today he couldn’t see that he was a man that was trying to stir up a revolution. Something wasn’t making sense and he was sure that he would be getting no answers tonight. He could only hope that the morning would bring some clarity to the situation.

“Merlin, stop.” Arthur snapped after Merlin said one word too many. He was dressed for the night and sat on the edge of the bed with Merlin still. Busying himself doing… something. He wasn’t quite sure what Merlin was doing at that moment but he figured it was something he needed to or he would have left by now. It wasn’t like Merlin to do any extra work voluntarily. The words were harsher than Arthur had meant but he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, take them back.

“Sorry.” Merlin ducked his head. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes. No. I mean…” Arthur sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “I need to think.”

“What about?’

“What about?” Arthur was incredulous. “Have you been paying the slightest bit of attention, Merlin? Did Eastwood seem like a man who was trying to stage a rebellion to you? He was too… kind, jovial I suppose. He doesn’t seem like a man who wants to overthrow me.”

“He’s probably putting on an act. Getting you to trust him so he finds out your weaknesses.”

“That is-“ Arthur stopped before he said ‘ridiculous’. “Actually kind of smart. Why didn’t I think of that.”

“Oh, because you cannot match my untold genius that’s all.”

“Untold genius, ha, yeah, Merlin, that’s you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Go rest up, we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow and those bruises under your eyes need some attention.”

“I knew you cared about me really.” Merlin’s eyes sparkled. Arthur rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at him.

“Of course not. I can’t have my manservant looking like a badger in front of my lords though, now can I?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Get lost, Merlin.” As Arthur went to get another pillow to throw at his manservant Merlin told his cue to slip out of the door.

“Sleep well, sire.” He called into the room behind him and Merlin hoped that Arthur would sleep well. He, however, had no intention of going to sleep just yet. Kilgharrah had been on his mind for most of the trip, ever since the unsettling feeling rooted itself in the pit of his stomach and refused to leave.

Sneaking away from the Eastwood Manor was far easier than leaving the walls of Camelot and he wasn’t sure if that knowledge was a comfort or not. The stillness of the night had always been a source of comfort for Merlin. It gave him time to pause and think after the business that had been his daily life. Merlin had often used the time as a boy to think about why he had been given his magic and what he was meant to do with it. As he got older he used the time to wonder if he could get rid of it and make his mother’s life easier. More recently he used the time to contemplate the great destiny that he was supposed to be heading towards and to go on extra curricular magic missions to rid threats before they even got to Arthur. When Merlin was far enough away from the manor and village he called for Kilgharrah.

Kilgharrah arrived with his usual dramatic flare, which Merlin supposed he couldn’t help but have given that he was a huge dragon. 

“Good evening, warlock, why is it you have called me here?”

“What do you know about a Lord Eastwood?” 

“Eastwood? I don’t recall the name, why? What troubles you?”

“This man, Lord Eastwood, there have been reports that he is trying to take Arthur’s throne but something isn’t right. I have this feeling, like my magic is warning me that something is going to happen, and it’s been getting worse the closer we got to this place and now it feels like I might explode. But from what I can see there is nothing to cause it.”

“Hmm. You’re instincts rarely steer you wrong, you would do well to heed them but aside from that I am not sure I can help you. Although, perhaps, you magic may be reacting to the magic in this place.”

“What do you mean? What magic?” Merlin clenched his fists and wondered why Kilgharrah could never speak plainly.

“The place seems to be steeped in a foul kind of magic, a bastardised version of the Old Religion.” Merlin contemplated this. A part of him was annoyed that yet again the threat to Arthur seemed to be magical and was going to drive him further from uniting Albion and his destiny. But he knew that he could fight magic, he just had to know what it was.

“So someone here is using magic.”

“It would appear so. As the embodiment of magic itself you must be sensing the disturbance and it is affecting you. You must be careful, Merlin, I have not encountered this before and have only tales of events similar in times gone by. Do not leave Arthur’s side and do not let magic cause you fear..”

“Cause me fear? I’m not scared of my magic.”

“Not yours, warlock, not just yours. Heed my warning or Albion may be lost.”

“Can’t you be a little less cryptic?” Merlin knew it was a hopeless case and yet he asked the question anyway..

“Goodbye, Merlin, we will meet again.” Kilgharrah took off before Merlin has a chance to answer. Frustrated, and with more questions than he had set out with, Merlin made his way back to the Eastwood Manor. The calming night had turned into a bitingly cold one and Merlin regretted not bringing something warmer with him to wear. He seems to arrive back in no time at all but the moon was far higher in the sky than it had been when he left initially and the candles had all been put out in the bedrooms.

His stomach was tying itself in knots again by the time he stepped through the threshold of the building. Merlin had barely noticed the brief reprise he had when he was speaking to Kilgharrah and now he missed it with a painful intensity. It made it much harder to find his room in the dark that his magic was too busy reacting to something to help him out too much. He was running  his conversation with Kilgharrah over and over in his head trying to make sense of what his warning could mean. Merlin had never feared magic, only the consequences it could bring to him and his mother. He had never feared the magic of other’s except for the consequences it might bring to Arthur if he failed to save him. But Merlin was sure that Kilgharrah had not been referring to either of those feelings.

Merlin managed to fall asleep quite easily that night. The days of travel and his lack of proper rest had finally exhausted him to the point that even his magic could not keep him going any longer. Merlin was at peace. 

Barely two hours later Merlin woke up in a cold sweat. His heart was pounding and something was telling him he had to leave the room. Except the door wouldn’t open. Merlin yanked the handle in every direction he could, pushing and pulling the door and putting all of his weight behind it. Too many failed attempted later Merlin tried to force the door open with magic. Only to be met with resistance that he didn’t recognise as any locking spell he had ever encountered. Merlin put more force behind his magic and concentrated on letting it flow through his hand and into the door itself. Merlin’s hand felt burned but the door open. When he brought his hand to his face there was no evidence of the injury that he would have sworn he would see. Magic had never hurt him before, Merlin thought. It confused him and made him want to try it again to see if it would still happen. But his magic was pulling him out of the room, screaming at him to move downstairs and into the room directly below him. Merlin had never been one to ignore the call of his magic and so he followed it.

Each door he passed on his way down hummed with the same magic that had held his door closed just moments before but Merlin pressed on. He couldn’t risk anyone being behind those doors and seeing him use magic anyway so his experiment would have to wait. 

The door to the room directly beneath his hummed louder and more obnoxiously than every other door and he knew he was in the right place. Merlin tried to focus his magi on the door to force it open and conceal himself in shadows but he felt as if his head was being split in two and his consciousness dragged from his body. For the first time Merlin did not feel in control of his magic at all, it was completely in control of him. He drifted away from his body which he knew was still standing behind him  but instead of being in there he was rushing towards the door and slamming into- no, slamming through it. Merlin only got a brief look at the room before he was violently thrown back into his body.

Merlin stumbled back and pressed his hands to his head in a feeble attempt to stave off the headache that was building. He tried to cling to the memory of what he saw in the room but instead heard the high ringing of a bell, almost like a scream. Blinded and deafened Merlin fumbled his way back upstairs. He barely made it back into his room before he dropped to the floor and adopted the foetal position with the door locking again behind him. Merlin couldn’t think of anything as he let himself to pulled under into blissful unconsciousness.

The morning once again arrived too quickly for Merlin who was sore from his night on the floor and left with residual aches from whatever had happened to him last night. His arms shook when he lifted himself from the floor and he seriously debated just shutting himself in here all day until whatever it was wore off. He let his eyes close for a few more minutes until he heard a cockerel call in the distance.

“Well finally, Merlin, you really are a terrible excuse for a manservant. I’m already half dressed and about to be late to breakfast. And I even sent you to bed early last night so we could avoid this. What do you have to say for yourself>” Arthur’s mini tirade began the moment Merlin had set foot across the threshold. Merlin had no energy to engage today, though, and this made Arthur pause in concern. He turned from where he was looking out of his window to instead look at Merlin. He looked no better than when Arthur had last seen him. His eyes were maybe even darker than they had been the previous day and he seemed to be barely keeping his eyes open. When he noticed Arthur looking at him he straightened up and smiled widely. “Are you all right?”

“Perfect, sire.” Merlin concentrated on walking in a straight line to Arthur and forcing his usual grin onto his face.

“Really? Because you look like astern breeze could knock you over.”

“Really, promise. The maids next to me just spent a lot of the night chatting, or maybe it was the cooks, or the stablehands… anyway, whoever it was seemed to be having a great time and doing a bang up job at keeping me awake. I’m fine.”

“So you let a bunch of gossiping servants keep you awake? I expect more of you Merlin. Let’s get down to breakfast.” Merlin followed Arthur from the room. The aches were fading enough that he did not need to use so much of his energy on doing basic tasks such as walking for which Merlin was immeasurably grateful. He couldn’t bare the thought of Arthur using this as ammunition against him in the future. As a reason to leave him behind if something potentially dangerous happened while they were here.

Breakgast was uneventful. Eastwood and Harold had left for an early walk of their lands and to check in with their tenants. Arthur was agitated at the lack of respect it showed him. If the villagers knew that they had the king visiting and they were so obviously flaunting curtesy it did not bode well for the potential coup. The knights managed to steer Arthur’s mind from politics while they ate to laughter topics like their next round of training and what they might do when they returned to Camelot. Merlin was grateful for this since he did not want Arthur to discuss the politics when there were Eastwood’s servants milling about the place, any on of which could easily report back to him. Merlin knew that the majority of their loyal would lie with their lord rather than Arthur and he understood that. It did not mean that it did not frustrate him.

Merlin found himself wandering the manor after breakfast. Arthur had set out to the grounds with the knights to take a look around and, hopefully, stumble into Eastwood or some of his tenants and get a feel for the place. Merlin had tried to tag along but Arthur had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to remain at the manor and do something useful, and yes that does include using the time to stop yourself looking like you went several rounds with Percival and lost them all, Arthur had told him. Merlin had finally given up and decided he could use the time to investigate the room he had been drawn to the previous night.

While he was lingering outside of the door and very much trying not to look like he was lingering outside of the door too suspiciously, a young boy, perhaps fourteen, walked past with a stack of linens. 

“Hey, who’s room is that?” Merlin asked as the boy approached. He looked surprised to have been addressed by someone and tensed. Merlin frowned and made a note to think about that later. 

“Oh, uh, that’s Lord Eastwood’s rooms. I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Lord is very particular about who goes in there. It’s only himself and Lord Harold that can enter. The last maid who tried to go in, well, no one has seen her since. Say, you’re King Arthur’s manservant, right? I bet that’s interesting, working for the king. Do you go on all his trips with him? I bet you know all about Camelot and places even further. I’ve never left the Eastwood estate.” The boy ended wistfully.

“Yeah I am, and yeah I’ve been a few places. You could go, you know. Just go and make a new life somewhere.”

“Oh no, not me. I’m not brave enough to do that. The lands here are nice, and they produce good harvests and I’m well fed and looked after. I couldn’t leave my mother.”

“I understand. Maybe one day you will venture to Camelot when you’re older. You’ll find me in the physician’s chambers.”

“That would be a dream.”

“You should get on with your day.”

“Yes, I really should. Eliza will not be happy with me if these linens aren’t with her before the masters get back.” The boy scurried off.

Merlin glared at the door to Lord Eastwood’s rooms. Looking up and down the hallway he decided that it was safe enough to have a closer look at the door. He pressed his fingertips to the wood and prepared himself to experience something similar to last night. Only this time the door was just a door and Merlin entered easily, neatly closing it behind him. He had nothing to gauge how much time had passed or how long the Eastwood’s would be walking their lands for so he set to work investigating quickly. 

Twenty minutes of searching later and Merlin had found nothing explain the strange phenomenon that he had experienced. The room seemed perfectly normal. He debated doing another sweep of the room when he heard someone approaching. He knew he could not be seen leaving this room or it might serve to agitate whatever Lord Eastwood had against Arthur that was the cause fo their visit. In a splitsecond decision Merlin ensconced himself in the curtains and waited for the person to pass by, desperately hoping that it was not Eastwood returning from his walk.

Merlin’s luck, as ever, did not hold and the door to the rooms was pushed open only moments later. Merlin pushed himself as far back into the wall as he could get and tried not to move a muscle.

“Father, it is time for your medicine.” Merlin cursed the gods that he had managed to be caught by both men in the room.

“I’ve told you I’m not sick, boy.” Eastwood the elder growled. Merlin’s instincts desperately wanted him to look around the curtain and into the room. He could only tell so much from words, facial expressions gave him so much more information.

“The physician says-“

“The physician says because you say.”

“Father, no one wants to see you unwell. Please, for me, for the tenants.” Merlin heard some grumbled words that he couldn’t make out and risked a look around the edge of the curtain. Lord Eastwood was sat on the bed with a small vial in his hand while Harold stood in front of him with his back to Merlin. He watched as Eastwood swallowed the liquid and handed the empty vial to him son. Merlin started to wonder what a sickness could mean for Eastwood’s vy for power, was is a cause or a consequence, when he saw Harold reach a hand to his father’s forehead nd start murmuring.

Merlin’s insides twisted and he barely contained his cry of pain. So close to the magic happening it seemed that the twisting melded into a feeling od being stabbed several times. Merlin felt tears well up in his eyes and struggled to concentrate beyond the pain. His grip of reality slowly slipped from him and he grasped the window ledge for support. By the end of the spell Merlin was struggling to breathe. He felt as though his lungs had been squeezed by the hands of a giant and his greatest desire in that moment was to gasp oxygen into his lungs as quickly as he could. But his senses were still heightened from the danger he found himself in and he managed to breathe deeply and slowly to replace the oxygen he was missing.

“Sleep, father, all will be well when you wake.” Merlin heard footsteps receding and counted to thirty after the door closed before he threw himself from his hiding place and dropped to the floor on shaking legs. Merlin scrambled to find something to hold on the floor while he heaved oxygen back into his lungs. When he finally felt that he could breathe again he dropped to his stomach and rolled onto his back. This was where he noticed something dangling from beneath the bed. It had not been there when Merlin first entered the room and now he knew who was using magic he wanted to tear it down. But this was twisted magic, pulled and shaped until it did not resemble the magic it had once come from. Merlin didn’t know what tearing this down would do to Eastwood’s sanity and he did not want to be responsible for an innocent man’s life being ruined. Knowing now that the real culprit behind any uprisings was Harold, Merlin started to feel more secure in his abilities to solve whatever this was. He did not notice when he fell asleep.

Merlin. 

Merlin had never been more thankful to hear Kilgharrah in his head as he was in that moment.

Whoever destroyed the magic has a relic of the Old Religion. You must find it.

Why couldn’t you tell me this last night?  

I told you, warlock, I only know of tales of this happening and I do not remember everything I ever hear. Find the relic, Merlin. Fix the balance. Wake up, quickly before someone finds you.

Merlin jerked out of his dream and hastily made his way out of the room. He had no idea what a relic of the Old Religion might be and he couldn’t help but sigh at the knowledge that yet more had been placed onto his shoulders. As if the fate of Albion resting on him was not enough for one man to handle, he was apparently in charge of the balance of the Old Religion. He supposed that’s when one got when one mastered the power of life and death by accident.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted from the front of the manor when Merlin walked outside hoping to find him. “I was just telling Harold how great you are as target practice.” Arthur’s tone did not spark joy in Merlin because he knew that tone well. Arthur was about to get a little payback for his lateness this morning. 

“Thank you, sire.” Merlin forced. The look he short Arthur was far less polite than his words would imply. He was trying to convey a I-hate-you-but-I’ll-play-nice and it made Arthur smile even wider.

“Yes, well, you are the most fun servant to use. I was thinking you could help Harold train for a while.” Merlin ground his teeth.

“As you wish, sire.”

Gwaine sent him a pitying look while Elyan approached him with a shield to use. Leon looked at least a small part disapproving, which Merlin was thankful for, while Percival seemed to have taken to beating a dummy rather viscously.

“Sorry, mate.” Elyan slapped his back, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Merlin’s reflexes were not up to their usual standard. Even with the clear exhaustion, which had been evident on Merlin before, he had never been this slow. Part of Arthur wanted to call it off, but Harold had barely begun training and he was here to fix relations with the Eastwood’s, not damage them.

Merlin, for his part, was holding up surprisingly well he thought. Harold attacked with more force than Arthur but lacked his speed and finesse. But then just meant a lot of very solid blows for Merlin to hold his own under. 

“You are good target practice, Merlin. Maybe I should get a new servant specially for this. Working with a moving target is far more fun.” Harold dealt Merlin a blow that hw could feel reverberate through his arms and into his chest. Merlin wanted to growl at Harold. Even if he didn’t know that the man was using mutated magic for some evil scheme, the man was just sleazy in general.

It was a blow that sent Merlin to his knees that had Arthur stepping in to stop things.

“All right I think that’s enough now. I need Merlin to prepare me a bath.” Arthur made his way over to merlin and Harold. Merlin looked over to Arthur with relief when he saw something flash in the corner of his eye and suddenly Arthur stumbled over his own feet. Both he and Merlin frowned at the ground. There was nothing for Arthur to fumble over there. “Harold, I’m sorry did you hear me?”

“No, sire, what did you say?” The knights had pulled in tight around Merlin and Harold and were ready to defend him should he need it.

“I need Merlin to draw me a bath, sorry to ruin the fun so soon.”

“Not a problem, sire, I ought to go find my father.” When Harold walked away merlin let the shield drop the ground and let himself drop with it. He ached, again, and he was tired, and the flash! He suddenly remembered. Whatever relic Harold had of the old religion he seemed to be wearing it. That would explain how Arthur tripped and how Harold was harnessing the power. Merlin had to come up with a plan to make him use the magic again as soon as he could. 

Gwaine was the first to reach Merlin while Arthur and the others had taken to watching Harold leave.

“You all right, mate?” Gwaine crouched down in front of Merlin. It took Merlin I second too long to answer, since he was not entirely thinking of his current situation, so Gwaine tapped Marlin’s arm to get his attention. Merlin jumped 

“Huh. Uh, what?” Merlin winced.

“I said, are you all right, mate?” Gwaine dipped his head to the side and knit his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

“Didn’t realise he’d go so hard.” Arthur said in lieu of an apology. Luckily Merlin knew how to read between the lines of Arthur speak and gracefully accepted it for what it was.

“He’s not used to a living target that he doesn’t want to kill.” Merlin shrugged. “It’s fine.” 

“Still, he should know better.” Arthur waved Leon over then and whispered into his ear as he walked past. Leon and Gwaine helped Merlin up, and though adamant that he could stand and walk perfectly well by himself, the knights all hovered uncomfortable close to Merlin on the walk back into the manor.

Dinner was a nonevent, much like breakfast had been. Lord Eastwood had apparently taken ill and retired early which left only Harold to entertain Arthur and the knights. Merlin lingered behind Arthur’s seat for the whole of the meal but did not overhear anything particularly useful. He had to admit that Harold was doing a fine job at coming across as a pretty great guy, despite the earlier target practice event, and an even better job at making out that he disagreed entirely with his father’s ideas of having someone else on the throne.

“He’s not been the same since mother died.” Harold said.

“I’m sorry to hear that, and about your mother.” Arthur responded.

“It was a while ago now, but thank you. She was killed by a sorcerer, you see, and father was angry that King Uther, may he rest in peace, had not eradicated them fully from out lands. And then when you took over and there were rumours of you showing leniency to magic users… well I’m afraid it just tipped poor father over the edge. He feels as he never got justice for mother’s death and I suppose he was looking for someone to blame. I truly would not worry, cousin, father is all bark and not bite. The villagers here, they adored my mother and they will say anything to try and make father as happy as he was with her. I honestly don’t know how the rumours even made their way to Camelot.” Merlin had glared when Harold had called Arthur ‘cousin’. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that Arthur placed his family above everything except Camelot and Merlin did not like how Harold was playing on Arthur’s heartstrings with this tale he was spinning. And the tales got to Camelot because of you I’m sure, Merlin thought. Only he couldn’t tell Arthur that and expose how he knew. He needed proof that wouldn’t incriminate him, or he needed to deal with the situation himself. Either way he could not let Arthur and Harold be alone together.

“I appreciate that, Harold, but if rumours have made it to Camelot I am afraid I must take it more stoutly than that. Out judgements can sometimes be clouded when it comes to our fathers, I’m sure you understand. I mean no ill will and I hope that this is a misunderstanding that we can all move on from.”

“As do I. I might suggest we go out for a hunt tomorrow, just you and I, and talk of this some more. Just cousin to cousin and skip the rigid formalities that are expected of us in public.”

“I would like that. We should be able to bring our families closer. We’ll bring Merlin along so he can carry whatever we are not using.” Merlin perked up at knowing that Arthur would want to bring him along on a ‘just cousins’ trip even if it was to carry the kills.

“Surely we don’t need that, us being two strong young men. I fear we might not talk freely even with just one other around.”

“Nothing to fear with Merlin, probably won’t remember a word we say, right, Merlin?”

“Sorry, sire?” Merlin played the fool to Arthur’s king. It was a role he happily fulfilled for the great underestimation it gave him.

“See, nothing to worry about.” Arthur beamed.

“I suppose that could work. Though I really would rather it was just us two.”

“Nonsense, we need free hands to hunt properly. I’ll even instruct Merlin to keep a few yards back so he can’t overhear us if that would make you feel better.”

“It would indeed, thank you.”

“I think I’ll retire for the night then and have Merlin prepare for our hunt. Thank you, Harold.”

“Goodnight, sire.” Harold and the knights nodded to their departing king.

“Goodnight. Merlin?” Merlin took his cue to follow Arthur from the dining room. The walk to Arthur’s room was short and silent. Both men were mulling over what they had heard over dinner. To Merlin there was too much that was not adding up. Harold’s story sounded sincere enough, he even sounded distressed that Arthur has felt the need to come out to the estate to try and smooth things over and Arthur has so obviously believed him that Merlin wished the king would lose some of that blind faith in people if only to make his job easier. Sadly he knew that it was Arthur’a faith in people, whoever they were, that would make him the greatest king that Albion has ever known. Harold has at least been partially truthful, Merlin decided, this was definitely magically motivated. Merlin could think of a dozen motives that someone with magic would have for standing against Arthur and none of them were good. Most of them he had probably encountered before as well. 

“Are you sure a hunting trip is a good idea?” Merlin asked suddenly while he helped Arthur prepare for bed. The look Arthur gave him was enough to tell Merlin that his comment was not appreciated. “I just mean shouldn’t you be talking to his father first, it is him who is unhappy with you after all.”

“Lord Eastwood is family, Merlin, and, not that I expect you to understand this, that means I can’t just go around throwing my weight as king with these people. I’m going to need Harold’s help and a hunting trip is a good time for us to bond again.”

“Right. You wouldn’t expect me to understand about family.”

“That’s not what I said. It’s just this world it’s not like yours. Everything is different, more complicated and it’s made worse by the fact that my father was not always particularly well liked and people aren’t happy to see a mini-Uther on the throne.” 

“I understand that, all I’m saying is that shouldn’t you speak to Lord Eastwood sooner rather than later? Won’t he take it badly that you came here to see him and you have barely exchanged two words in the time we’ve been here?” 

“The hunt is a good idea. I think Harold needs to talk and it could be helpful to learn more about what happened to his mother so that I can use that when I finally get to talk to Lord Eastwood alone.” Merlin wanted to scream but knew he had to concede to Arthur. In matters of state and diplomacy he did know best, usually, he just didn’t have all the information. Merlin finished his tasks for the night swiftly and silently after that. 

“Anything else, sire?”

“No. Thank you.” Merlin nodded and walked towards the door. “Merlin?” Arthur said again after a moment of hesitation. “Get some rest. Can’t have you embarrassing me on the hunt tomorrow.”

“Of course, sire.” Merlin ducked his head to hide his smile. He knew that it was Arthur’s way of showing that he cared and after so many years by his side they had come to a mutual understanding when it came to their friendship. It was there, real and constant between them, but Arthur could never admit it until something shifted dramatically somehow.

Merlin ran straight into Harold when he left Arthur’s room.

“I’m so sorry, my lord.” Merlin rushed to say. The sick feeling that had been Merlin’s constant companion these past few days sharpened and he fought not to groan audibly. 

“Nothing to worry about.” Harold flashed Merlin a smile that he was sure was meant to be reassuring but really just settled like a stone in his gut. “I hope you’re looking forward to our hunt in the morning, it should prove most fruitful.”

“I certainly hope so, my lord.” A medallion hanging around Harold’s neck caught his eye. he recognised the sigil etched into the metal from the old magic book that Gaius had given him when he first arrived in Camelot. “That’s an interesting medallion, where is it from, if you don’t mind me asking, my lord?”

“You have a good eye. It is an old family sigil that I found amongst my mother’s belongings when she died.”

“I’m sorry, my lord, I shouldn’t have asked.” Harold hummed at Merlin and left the conversation without any further comment. Merlin glared at the man’s retreating back and waited until the sharp sickness dulled again to the low throbbing and snuck into Lord Eastwood’s room again. He planned to hide in there until Harold came in and get a better look at whatever it was that he was doing. Merlin tucked himself inside of the wardrobe and peered through the gap in the doors and waited.

Merlin hated hunting. He also hated that Harold had not entered his father’s bedroom last night and so he had spent hours curled in a wardrobe for nothing and he was now going alone on a hunting trip with Arthur, the man he was sure was about to end up in a very precarious situation, and Harold, the man he was sure would be causing that situation, and all he had to show for his night of investigation was a sore neck.

Arthur and Harold started the trip jovially enough but Merlin would not let himself be killed into a false sense of security with the man. They had been travelling for an hour to a place that Harold declared the best spot to hunt. Merlin didn’t think that there could be a better or worse place to hunt because animals were just everywhere and he didn’t like hunting much anyway, but Arthur appeared the think that there could be a hunting location hierarchy so Merlin had quickly shut up. As much as Arthur called him an idiot he did actually have a sense of when it was a good or bad time to pipe up and when he could and couldn’t say things in certain situations. For example, he would never call Arthur a dollop head in front of visiting nobles, in front of the knights when they finally get to go home though? Well, Merlin thought, that was going to be fair game for all the aches and pains he was getting from this oh-so-simple visit to the Eastwood lands.

“This is the spot.” Harold smiled and readied his crossbow. Merlin handed over Arthur’s own crossbow and shifted the spare arrows and food he has holding to compensate for the loss. Arthur glared at the noise that Merlin was making but was resigned to the fact that Merlin was just that bad at being on hunts. 

“All right, what’s so good about it then?”

“To the east is the largest river that runs in these parts, animals are drawn to the place, and this is the highest ground you’ll get anywhere near it. We face the river and our prey will fall right into our sight lines. Easy.”

“Didn’t take you for someone who liked things the easy way, Harold.”

“Well, can’t have the king fail to catch anything, can we?”

“Are you implying that I’m a bad hunter?” Arthur’s voice raised an octave with his indignation.

“I have heard a few stories from your knights…”

“From my knights? Well, that’s, you know.” Merlin snapped a twig behind them and sent a flock of birds flying from a tree. “That would be my idiot manservant. Really, Merlin, can’t you be quiet for once?”

“Sorry, sire.” Merlin struggled to hide the grin that he always got when he managed to disturb Arthur’s hunting.

It was some time later that Merlin had half convinced himself that whatever Harold’s plan was he wasn’t going to exercise it any time soon. It was also some time later that Merlin was once again kicking himself for his complacency. It was at the last moment that Merlin reacted to the hum of magic coming from Harold as he moved faster than should be possible to aim his crossbow at Arthur. Merlin’s breath caught in his throat and he threw himself into Arthur’s side, effectively knocking them both to the ground. Arthur’s crossbow flew in one direction while Merlin pushed them in the other. He heard the dull thunk of an arrow burying itself into a target and used all his strength to roll Arthur further away from the situation and hope the man would take the time to find himself some cover. When he rolled back to find Harold he saw the bolt sticking out at an angle from his side.

“Well you are a nuisance, Merlin.” Harold clicked him tongue and loaded a new bolt into the bow. “Heard you spent the night in the wardrobe in my father’s room. What was it you were hoping to achieve, exactly? Oh, you thought I wouldn’t know about nosey servants who had been sneaking around my home? I have to admit that I’m not quite sure how you managed to leave your room that first night, care to tell me?” Harold levelled the crossbow at Merlin who had made it to the base of a trunk and was using it to pull himself up with one hand clutched around the wood buried in his stomach. “Not another step, Arthur.” Merlin turned to see Arthur in a crouch slowly approaching them and then Arthur was on the floor unconscious. Merlin followed him when Harold’s screeching magic reverberated though his bones.

Harold was standing in front of Merlin and took a moment to consider the scrawny man on the floor. He knelt in front of him and stared at his face, using a hand to grasp Merlin’s chin and tug it towards him. 

“Who are you?” Harold asked. With his other hand, crossbow gently place on the ground next to them but just out of Merlin’s reach, he curled his fingers around the bolt in Merlin and twisted it. Merlin’s back arched and he groaned at the shifting wood. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.” Harold pushed the bolt further in and Merlin let out a strangled cry that was hindered by the grip on his jaw. “Maybe I’ll keep you. Once I kill him it might be fun to keep his servant around, after all, you are great target practice.” Harold let go of Merlin’s chin and pushed the bolt towards the ground. Merlin followed it down to the floor and resisted his instinct to curl into a ball. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What a dull question. You know I have magic, why wouldn’t I want Arthur off the throne? Magic should be allowed to roam free, sorcerers should not be persecuted like he and Uther-“ Merlin’s anger overtook him and he threw Harold across the forest and into the nearest tree. Merlin smiled when he heard Harold hit it with a satisfying thud and slowly and painfully brought himself back to standing. Harold laid at the base of the tree, dazed and trying to puzzle the pieces together.

“Arthur is nothing like Uther.” Merlin’s voice was icy and left no room for debate.

“You… you have magic. Why are you working for a man who would kill you for it?”

“I have faith the one day Arthur will bring about the unification of Albion and he will be the greatest king the land will ever know. And it is my job to get him there.” Merlin would have been far more impressive if he had not been swaying slightly while he spoke.

“Too bad no one else believes that. You should’ve stayed on the ground.” Harold launched himself at Merlin, forgoing magic, to bodily force him back down. What neither man had noticed was that Arthur had been alert for a good portion of their fight and had collected his crossbow from the ground. Merlin hit the ground with he bolt underneath him and the weight of Harold and the fall pushed the bolt through and out the other side. Arthur felt sick when he saw it and couldn’t help the cry of Merlin’s name that ripped from his throat.

Both Merlin and Harold whipped their heads to the side and saw Arthur standing there with crossbow in hand, aimed at them.

“Arthur.” Merlin wheezed while Harold pushed himself up to standing.

“Arthur, he’s a sorcerer!” Harold shouted feigning fear and concern while he scrambled to run from Merlin in his ’fear’. Arthur looked at Merlin on the ground. His arms were shaking from trying to hold himself up and the sunlight was reflecting on the sickening sheen of sweat across his face. Arthur tried to reconcile this man who looked so scared and so helpless with the man he had just seen using magic. Merlin refused to look Arthur in the eye. He couldn’t bare to see the look in Arthur’s eyes, he didn’t want to know what the blond was feeling. He thought it might just rip through him more painfully than the bolt had. 

“So are you.” Arthur has the crossbow aimed at Harold but he was struggling to look away from Merlin. When he did he sneered at Harold and his fake cowering. 

“Arthur, you can’t be serious, I’m not a sorcerer.” Harold scoffed. “Really, Arthur, I’m not.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re a butcher, you’ve bastardised the Old Religion and twisted it for your own gain. You have no right to call yourself a sorcerer.” Merlin panted. He flung an arm out towards Harold weakly but missed. Merlin was struggling to remain alert through the haze of pain. His arm failed to hold him any longer and he dropped to the ground fully. “Arthur, you need to take off the medallion.”

“Merlin, stop talking.”

“No, listen to me. The medallion is the magic. You need to get rid of it.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

“But I do and you know why. I’m sorry, Arthur, truly I am. But you have to listen to me now. Please. You can’t die.”

Meanwhile, Harold had been calling his fractured magic to him and aimed the full force of it at Arthur. Arthur tried to dodge but the wave was too big. Then something in Merlin finally clicked. The feeling in the pit of his stomach exploded outwards. His eyes turned gold but outside of his control. Merlin was about to learn what it truly meant to be the embodiment of magic. 

The forest was bathed in a golden light. Arthur tried to shield his eyes to see whole Harold stumbles blindly after being hit by the full force of the beam. Merlin was standing as if there wasn’t an arrow impaling him and all of the anger and power was focused on a single man. Harold’s heart started beating rapidly in his chest. The waves of energy rolling from Merlin were powerful and reverberated through every living thing for miles around. The medallion sailed through the air into Merlin’s outstretched hand and he regarded it with a detached interest before he closed his first around it and it crumbled into dust. Harold made a choking sound and grasped at his now medallion-less neck. 

“You have defiled magic, the very essence of the world and everything in it. You used that to try and destroy someone important to me. You shouldn’t have done that.” Merlin topped his head  as if considering what he was going to do next. Arthur, though, was staring at the man he thought he knew and the murderous expression on his face. Merlin’s voice sent shivers down his spine, he had never heard anyone sound so cold and authoritative. Arthur wanted to know why and how Merlin has such a connection to magic that he could do that, he wanted to know what happened to make Merlin like this because it didn’t seem like Merlin was entirely in control. And that worried Arthur. He didn’t want to be scared of his friend but it was certainly looking like he should be. “The Old Religion will have justice.”

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. He conveyed more in that single word than he had through their entire relationship. Fear, love, betrayal, concern and just about every emotion Merlin could think of was wrapped up into his name. Merlin turned away from Harold and Arthur couldn’t help but flinch at the gold in his friends eyes. They flashed back to blue when Merlin saw Arthur and the strength he seemed to have faltered. Merlin stumbled sideways and brought a hand to his wound. He took in the situation around him and Arthur could only compare the look in his eyes to that of a scared young boy. Arthur’s heart wanted to break but the imminent danger to his life and Merlin’s made him ignore it. “I’ve got this. Trust me.” Merlin nodded. Harold had recovered and ran at Arthur to attack. Arthur barely hesitated when he fired the crossbow and watched Harold drop to the ground. Killing had never come easily to Arthur and watching someone who shared his blood die at his own hand made him feel sick. Arthur took some time to mourn until his attention snapped back to Merlin. 

“Fuck, Merlin.” Arthur pushes his shoulder underneath Merlin’s, throwing one of Merlin’s arms around his neck, and wrapped his arm around Merlin’s waist being careful not to dislodge the bolt any further. Merlin sagged into Arthur’s side and dropped his head onto Arthur’s shoulder. “You’re going to be alright.”

“You don’t hate me?” Merlin mumbled. Arthur gripped Merlin’s arm and pulled most of Merlin’s weight onto himself. His grip tightened in response to the question. Arthur felt a lot of things about Merlin in that moment, the most pressing being concern, but hate was not something Arthur thought he could ever feel towards this man.

“No, Merlin, you idiot, I don’t hate you. I have a lot of questions but I don’t, I can’t…” Arthur tried to get them moving back towards the manor but one step had merlin crying in pain and nearly dropping like a stone. Arthur squeezed his arm around Merlin’s waist to keep them upright.

“Oh, that’s… that’s nice.”

‘Nice? Merlin, after what I just saw that is far more than nice.”

“If I die this time, will you still say I’m a hero?”

“Like I said last time, you’re not dying you’re just being a drama queen.”

“You should leave me.” Merlin tried. But they had had almost this exact conversation before when Merlin had been injured in a fight.

“Sure, Merlin. Right after I get you healed up.”

“You don’t know any medicine.”

“I know enough. Let’s just… get away from here and then I’ll take a proper look.” A painful thirty minutes later for Merlin and they had barely covered a quarter of the distance that they needed to. In that time Merlin had been slowly losing his grip on reality through the haze of pain.

“Arthur.” Merlin struggled to say. “Arthur, stop, please.” Arthur sighed and reluctantly let them both down to the floor carefully, minding Merlin’s wound. “You should leave me here-“

“Merlin, we’ve talked about-“

“Not… not forever. But with he speed we’re going at we won’t make it to the manor before nightfall.”

“I’m not leaving you here that’s ridiculous. How could you even suggest that Merlin?”

“Because you’ll be faster going alone and coming back with a horse, Leon, and supplies than it would be to take me with you in the first place.” Merlin reasoned. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” He tried to joke.

“Don’t say that.”

“Sorry.” 

“Can’t you just, you know…” Arthur made a vague hand gesture that Merlin figured was meant to mean use magic.

“No, I’m not good at that kind of… thing.” Merlin decided that using the word magic might be too much in that moment.

“Great.”

Arthur peeled back Merlin’s shirt and winced at the pool of blood that was sticking the material to Merlin’s stomach. “Don’t touch it.” Merlin snapped when he saw Arthur’s hand hesitate over the bolt.

“What? But won’t it get infect?”

“Maybe, but bloodloss will kill me quicker than an infection will.” Merlin batted Arthur’s hand away when it looked like he was going to touch it again. “Ahh, ahhh, ahhhh… I regret that.” Merlin groaned and dropped his head to look at the sky.

“Merlin, I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. You’ll be faster that way.”

“All right.” Arthur pressed his lips together. “I’m coming back, Merlin, I promise.” Arthur ran a hand through Merlin’s hair and placed a hand over his heart. “I’m not leaving you.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Merlin whispered. He didn’t think that Arthur had heard him but the look Arthur sent his way told him he was wrong.

“I’m not, I swear. I am coming back.”

“Arthur, I lied to you. For years.” Merlin pushed himself onto his elbows. He could see Arthur better now but that made the situation worse. “I wouldn’t blame you if you left me here. I didn’t want to lie, I swear. I only ever wanted to protect you.”

“This is not a conversation we’re going to have right now. We can talk about that when you’re not bleeding out with a bolt in you in the middle of a forest four days ride away from Camelot and the best physician I know.”

“Arthur-“

“No. I’m going to get Leon and some horses and you, stubborn clot pole that you are, you are going to be just fine.”

“‘M not the clot pole, you are.”

“Yeah, all right, Merlin. Just lay down and relax. I’ll be back before you know it. Try not to fall asleep, now is not the time for your laziness.” Arthur supported Merlin’s head until it was back on the ground. His hand lingered there longer than was strictly necessary and it took a lot of effort to tear himself away.

Arthur didn’t allow himself to think about anything hat had happened in the past few hours and instead concentrated on making sure he was moving as quickly as he could. The forest moved past him in a blur and he didn’t let himself relax even when the Eastwood estate came into view. He was grateful for the dedication of his knights to their training that he found them outside and didn’t have to go into the manor to find Leon.

“Leon!” Arthur shouted. The knights turned in a group and ran to meet him halfway. “I need horses, and Merlin’s bag, and Leon you need to come with me.”

“What’s going on? Where’s Merlin?” Gwaine asked.

“No time, just do as I say.”

“Arthur-“ Percival dragged Gwaine away before he could say anything else and took him to find Merlin’s bag. Elyan ran for the horses while Leon stepped closer to Arthur.

“Sire?”

“Eastwood wasn’t the threat. It was his son I needed to look out for. Merlin got caught in the crossfire and now he’s lying in the forest with a bolt through his side, alone, and probably dying and I dont know enough medicine to help him.” Leon nodded gravely and assumed control of the situation. He took the horses from Elyan an the bag from Gwaine when he arrived.

“Gwaine, prepare a room for when we get back. We’re going to need towels, clean, hot water, and bandages. Percival, with us, we’re going to need some strength. Elyan, with Gwaine, help him.”

“What is going on?” Gwaine demanded again.

“Sire? Let’s go.” Arthur and Leon mounted their horses, quickly followed by Percival and they took off into the forest.

Merlin had a lot of time to think while he was alone in the forest when he wasn’t blinded by pain or dazed from the bloodloss. He couldn’t make sense of how Arthur had reacted to his magic. It was a sort of non-reaction even though it felt like something had irreparably shifted in their relationship. Merlin would be lying he said that a part of him wasn’t hoping that he would die before Arthur got back to him so that he wouldn’t have to deal with whatever the fallout of this situation would be. Another part of merlin thought that calling Kilgharrah might be a good idea, he was mostly confident that the dragon could save him, but even in his muddled mind he knew that in the long run that was probably a bad idea.

Merlin tried his best to stay still while we waited for Arthur, but eventually every position he shifted to was too painful to stay in for much longer. Merlin tried to ignore the concern he got when he started feeling cold and then numb. He had a shaking hand pressed weakly around the bolt and put all his energy into applying more pressure in the hope that the pain would keep him awake for just a little longer. He didn’t want Arthur to return to him unconscious, but he was taking a long time and Merlin was getting very sleepy.

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice was distant but Merlin couldn’t tell if it was the blood loss or the distance that was making it hard to hear him.he decided that he didn’t want to figure it out since neither option seemed appealing. “Merlin.” Oh, it was definitely the blood loss that was making Arthur sound far away if the hand on his face was anything to go by. Or he was hallucinating, but that would be the blood loss as well. For some reason Merlin found that thought very funny and started laughing. “Merlin?” Arthur shook Merlin’s shoulders. “What? What’s so funny?”

“Sire, step back.” Merlin thought that might be Leon be he couldn’t be sure.Merlin felt the bolt being ripped from his stomach and screamed, arching his back and dropping with a thud.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Arthur mumbled. Percival and Leon pretended that they hadn’t heard but both shared the sentiment. Neither man was happy seeing Merlin with what must be more blood outside of his body than was in it.  

“Sire, I…” Leon started after tending to Merlin’s wound for a while. “This doesn’t look good.”

“No, no he’s going to be fine. He has to be.”

“Percival, let’s get him onto a horse. I need more than what I have here to try and fix this.”

“Is he going to be ok?” Percival asked Leon quietly when they were out of Arthur’s earshot, Merlin cradled in Percival’s arms.

“Honestly? I doubt it.” Percival nodded solemnly and helped Leon settle Merlin onto the horse with him. Leon didn’t let on how bad Merlin’s wound was to Arthur, he knew it would only make his job more difficult and as it stood he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep Arthur from interfering when they got back. “You better bloody live, Merlin.” Leon muttered at the barely conscious man in his arms. “Because Arthur wont if you die.”

“C’mon, Merlin, wake up.” Gwaine was sitting vigil beside Merlin’s bed, as he had been since dawn when the knights had finally managed to wrangle Arthur out of the room after three days sat next to the bed. Only Merlin’s fever breaking had been enough to push Arthur out of the room for more than a few minutes. Leon’s confident assurances of ‘he’ll be fine while you get some rest’ felt hollow to the man speaking them but Arthur cling to them as the lifeline he so sorely needed.

Lord Eastwood had been falling over himself to make things right with Arthur but the pain of losing his son to such an underhanded betrayal was taking its toll and him and they two men had barely exchanged any words past meaningless pleasantries. Arthur was likely going to be content to let the man be, Elyan had told Lord Eastwood at the beginning of day two of Merlin’s unconsciousness, as long as Merlin survived. He said he didn’t know what would happen if the man died but Arthur had a good heart and Lord Eastwood probably had nothing to worry about.

“Merlin?” Gwaine jumped when he felt Merlin’s hand twitch and moved to tap Merlin’s cheek to try and jar him into wakefulness. “Merlin, c’mon, wake up. Talk to me. Leon!” Gwaine shouted. He barely heard the mumbled words from Merlin and by the time he registered them he missed what he had said entirely. “What was that?”

“‘m s’rry.”

“Sorry? Merlin, what are you talking about?” 

“S’rry, Arth’r.”

“Arthur? Why are you sorry to Arthur? Leon!” Gwaine yelled for the knight again when he hadn’t turned up quickly enough.

“What? What is it?” Leon skidded into the room. Which was very unlike him, Gwaine thought. “Merlin?” Leon asked when he looked over to the bed and saw Merlin mumbling. “Have you told Arthur?”

“No.”

“Go tell him.” Gwaine nodded and left the room.

“If you’re waking up just to die I will kill you myself.” Leon muttered as he checked Merlin’s bandages. He was wondering how Merlin had managed to survive this long with what he would have said was a mortal wound for anyone else when Arthur charged into the room. One look from the king and Leon took his leave, dragging Gwaine back out with him despite his protests. 

Arthur’s hand hesitated over Merlin’s wound. He didn’t quite believe that Merlin was really still there and the wound served as a sickening reminder of how close to dead Merlin came but Arthur couldn’t help but want to look at it even though it made him sick.

“A’thur?” 

“Yes, I’m here. How are you… how are you even alive?”

“Magic.” Merlin used most of his energy to give Arthur a lopsided grin now that Arthur could be in on the joke. Except, merlin’s sluggish brain struggled to remind him, they hadn’t talked about it and Arthur might not want to be in on the joke. Merlin was distantly aware that the thought should have panicked him at least a little bit but he was so sleepy and, huh, oh… oh that hurt. “Owwwww.”

“Don’t move, idiot.” Arthur put a steadying hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “But, uh… was that a joke? The-the magic thing? Or does it really…” Arthur trailed off unsure of himself and what he was asking. 

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know.”

“Oh.” An awakes silence stretched between the two men. Merlin counted it as a good thing that Arthur wasn’t actively baying for his blood and had actually coke back to save him. Unless this was just a hallucination and he really was till dying in the forest, that wouldn’t be good. Or he was healing him to take him back to Camelot to put on trial and make an example of him. If that was the case he might have to beg Arthur to just kill him here and tell Gaius that he had died from the crossbow wound. He hopes Arthur’s compassion for the older man would help him with that, he didn’t know what Gaius would do if he had to see him burned for sorcery. He didn’t want to think about it either. He supposed that, if Arthur was planning to execute him, he could just magic his way out of it and leave. But there was so much wrong with that idea that Merlin didn’t know where to begin with unravelling it and he was too tired to do so. 

“- ok, Merlin?... Merlin?” 

“Huh.”

“We’ll talk later.”

“Hm.” Merlin agreed and let himself fall back to sleep. 

Arthur studiously avoided Merlin for the next week. Knowing that he was going to be fine gave Arthur a lot more brain space to deal with the revelation that Merlin had magic. It helped that Merlin was unconscious most of the time so he didn’t have to confront his feelings just yet. Arthur sent Elyan and Percival back to Camelot without them to take word that everything was all right and they would return as soon as they could. He had tried to order Gwaine back as well but the man had more stubbornness to stay with Merlin than he had desire to follow Arthur’s orders. Arthur tried to be annoyed at this, Gwaine had sworn his loyalty to him after all, but he knew the kind of loyalty Merlin inspired. It was the loyalty that was making him question everything he ever knew or believed about magic. There had been times in the past that he had thought he could be wrong, but Merlin had been there for so many of them and never told him. Why? He could have changed Arthur’s mind, he could’ve set something extraordinary in motion. But he didn’t.

Did Merlin not trust him? That was the thought that Arthur kept circling back around to. He couldn’t think of anything else that would have stopped Merlin from telling him so many times. There were really so many times he could have told him. When his father… Arthur swallowed a lump at the thought of his father. Had Melrin let him die? Could Merlin have saved him? But why would he have, what motivation did he have to save the king that would have killed him? Did Merlin think that Arthur would have turned him into his father? Maybe in the beginning but Merlin had to know that Arthur had changed and grown. He had to know that he had loved Merlin for years and he would never hurt him. Not like Merlin had hurt him now.

Arthur had been so scared in the forest. He had been avoiding thinking about what happened for that very reason. Analysing his emotions was not something that he was up for doing. But after avoiding it for nearly two weeks his subconscious was telling him that he had to think about it. The past three nights he had been dreaming of being in the forest again but this time he couldn’t save Merlin. Arthur would wake up and go to check on Merlin each time he had the dream to convince himself that Merlin really was still there with them. 

After the fourth time he dreamt about it he was forced to confront the fear he had felt and what it meant. He wasn’t scared of Merlin, though he thought he maybe should have been, he had been scared for Merlin. For his life in that situation and for what might follow. Mostly he was scared of the imminent threat that was the arrow sticking impaling him, but subconsciously he knew that he had been thinking about what they would do when they returned to Camelot. Was he going to repeal the laws on magic? It wouldn’t be the most surprising thing he could do, most people knew that no sorcerers had been killed since he had assumed the throne. But could he do that and reveal Merlin as a sorcerer? Even if Arthur trusted him three was no guarantee that the people would. And what if they came for Merlin and tried to hurt him if they thought that Merlin had him under some kind of spell. Arthur didn’t know what he would do if that happened. 

Did Gaius know? He had practised magic before he was born. Was he the one who taught Merlin? And how many times had magic saved them? Arthur couldn’t believe that he had fought all of those magical beasts anymore and come out as unscathed as he did now that he knew about Merlin’s magic. And the amount of times that Arthur couldn’t really remember what had happened and Merlin had been the one that told him afterwards must have more to them than he had been told. That stung. But Merlin didn’t ask for any credit for any of it and that drove Arthur crazy. Merlin had never once showed even a slight inkling of wanting to harm Arthur, unless you counted to first time they met and even then… oh. Merlin really could take him apart in less than one blow and that was a humbling realisation. Merlin could have done so much, could have taken his magic and gone somewhere that he wouldn’t be executed if he was found out, but he chose to stay and given what he had said to Harold in the forest Arthur could only think that Merlin had stayed because of him and whatever it was that made Merlin believe in him so strongly.

“Sire?” Leon entered Arthur’s room. “I think it’s time we went back to Camelot.”

“Merlin is still injured.”

“And he will be for quite some time. But I think if we take it easy and he rides with one of us we can be back in five days.” There was a pause while Arthur considered Leon’s words and the weight of them hung in the air.

“Are you sure?”

“Arthur, Camelot needs you. I understand your worry but this is not war and the kingdom is not ready to have you gone for so long. We really must return. And I know you won’t go without him.” Leon gave him a nog insignificant look. “I’ll let you think, sire.”

“Thank you, Leon.” 

Arthur spent the remainder of the morning thinking about how Leon had picked up on the feelings he had for Merlin that he had barely admitted to himself. Leon had always been frustratingly perceptive, though. Arthur admitted that Leon was right and they needed to head back to Camelot if Merlin was well enough to travel and if Leon was confident that they could be ok then he had to believe that. Merlin would be better under Gaius’s care now anyway. Leon had managed to keep him alive but Arthur wasn’t sure that Leon would manage it again if anything else happened. Arthur informed Leon and Gwaine that they would be leaving the next morning and went to look for Lord Eastwood. It was time they had a conversation.

“Sire.” Lord Eastwood greeted in surprise when he saw Arthur approach.

“Lord Eastwood, might we have a moment?”

“Of course, sire, we can go to my library.” Arthur nodded and followed the older man through the hallways. “I am sorry to hear you are leaving, your highness, but I cannot say that I am surprised.” Eastwood opened the door to the library and gestured Arthur inside. Arthur nodded but didn’t answer until the door was closed behind them.

“I am sorry about Harold, I hope you know that.”

“I do, sire, thank you. I am afraid I do not know how to express my regret for his actions and I feel like words are not enough to do justice to the harm that befell you in my care.”

“You were a victim as well, do not blame yourself. I wish I could have saved Harold.”

“You are a good man, Arthur. You care about your people. I wish there had been another way but there wasn’t. I know you would have found it if there was.” Eastwood’s faith in him didn’t make up for the guilt that Arthur felt about killing Harold. He knew it was kill or be killed but he wished that there could have been another way for it to happen. “My son used magic, I know the fate he would have met in Camelot. In a way, this was kinder.” Arthur flinched at the reminder that magic was still outlawed in Camelot.

“I won’t be telling anyone what happened, and you don’t need to either.”

“Sire…”

“No matter how distant, you are still family and, like you said, I care about my people.”

“Of course, thank you.” Arthur shoe his hand and left the room. He needed to go see merlin before they left in the morning. 

He found Merlin sitting up and talking to Gwaine about one of Gwaine’s older exploits before his Camelot days. So it was more like being talked at, really. Arthur was sur that Merlin had probably heard the story before from the look on his face, but Gwaine did seem to have an endless number of tales and Arthur could not recall ever hearing one twice himself. Whether these tales were true was another matter but they kept long journeys entertaining so Arthur was content to listen to them.

“Gwaine, uh, could you give us a minute?” Merlin asked when he noticed Arthur lingering in the doorway.

“What?” Gwaine turned. “Oh, finally stopped ignoring him then, princess?” He snapped.

“Gwaine. Please?” Gwaine left slowly, glaring at Arthur the whole time. Arthur took time pacing the room. It seemed that he wasn’t sire where he should settle for their conversation, if he should sit next to Merlin, or stand away from him, or sit on the corner of the bed. He wasn’t sure where their relationship stood anymore. “Please sit down.” Merlin said. Arthur froze but did stop by the window. He looked out at the forest below them and tried very hard not to avoid looking at Merlin but every time he thought that he was going to turn around he found that he couldn’t. Merlin could only let the silence last for so long before he thought it might suffocate him if it went on any longer.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” Arthur was surprised by the statement, the conversation was already not going as he expected it to.

“I’m sorry. For everything, for lying, for… for breaking the law. But you have to understand that I didn’t have a choice.”

“Really, Merlin, no choice? You did choose to come to Camelot.” Arthur snapped. He didn’t want to be angry at Merlin but he had hated knowing that he had been blind and a fool for so long and now Merlin didn’t look like he was about the die any moment, Arthur realised that he had more emotions to work through about this than he had originally thought.

“You’re right. I knew where I was going.”

“Why did you stay?”

“Destiny.”

“What?”

“Someone told me about a prophecy, about how you would be the greatest king and unite Albion and that I was meant to help you do that. Two sides of the same coin. I had to stay.”

“So you stayed for duty?”

“At first. Then I started staying for you because I didn’t just know about your destiny, I believed in it. I believe in you.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“There were times when I thought that I might. But I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t make you choose between me and your father.”

“I wouldn’t have had to-”

“Yes you would. If I’d told you you would’ve had to decided if you should keep it to yourself or tell your father. Arthur, you would’ve had to chose between me and everything you’d ever known. I had faith that you would bring magic back, I still do, but you had to learn that magic wasn’t evil on your own.”

“But after my father died. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Dragoon.”

“Oh.”

“Before we go any further you have to know that Dragoon was, uh is, me.”

“Wha-how?”

“Ageing spell.”

“So you killed my father!”

“No! No I swear! Arthur that was really meant to help and when it didn’t... I didn’t know what had gone wrong. I thought I could save him. I wanted to save him.”

“Why? He would have killed you if he caught you.”

“For you, you idiot. Whether I agreed with him or not, he was still your father. I couldn’t see you lose him the same way I... I thought if I could save Uther for you it might... I just couldn’t do that to you.”Merlin fumbled with the words. The lump in his throat grew bigger by the second. 

“I don’t understand. The same way you, what?”

“I met my father once and I lost him the next day. I couldn’t see that happen to you if I could stop it.”

“But you’re couldn’t.”

“No. I’m sorry, Arthur, I never wanted you to feel that pain so soon.” Arthur blinked tears from his eyes and studiously stared out of the window. 

“Who was he? Your father?”

“Balinor.” Merlin admitted after some silence. 

“The Dragon Lord.”

“Yes.”

“So are you...?”

“Yes.”

“And the Great Dragon?”

“Kilgharrah. Still alive but he won’t be attacking anyone anymore.”

“Right.” Arthur closed just eyes and dropped his head against the window. This was far more than he had been expecting when he walked into this conversation. 

“Arthur...” Merlin trailed off. He didn’t know where they were going to go from here. 

“Tell me.” Arthur turned sharply to Merlin and strode over to the bed. “Tell me about every time you’ve used magic. I need to know exactly what you’ve done.” Merlin flinched are the tone. This was more like what he had been expecting. He knew that Arthur’s understanding would only last for a little while. Arthur just didn’t feel the same way about him as he felt about Arthur and he couldn’t believe he’s deluded himself into thinking Arthur might. 

“So you can judge me? Isn’t it enough that I’ve admitted it? You have everything you need to execute me already.” 

“You think I’m going to execute you?” Arthur almost physically recoiled at the thought. “After everything you think that I would execute you? Are you really that blind, Merlin, or are you just purposefully ignorant to everything around you?”

“Excuse me? If I was blind you’d be dead by now!” 

“Yes, I’m sure I couldn’t possibly survive without you.” Arthur had meant to say it sarcastically but when the words came out there was too much truth in them. The heat of their short argument dissipated and left the two staring at each other. “I- I mean-“

“I couldn’t live without you either.” Merlin confessed.

“Good.” Arthur closed the short gap between them and leant in. 

The kiss was short but Merlin had never felt as content as he did in that moment. He reached a hesitant hand up to Arthur’s head and ran his fingers through his hair. Arthur leant into Merlin’s touch but pulled away shortly after. He was not finished with this conversation and he couldn’t afford to be distracted anymore.

“Now, tell me everything.” Arthur said when he pulled away.

“Everything? That could take a while.” Merlin grinned, completely mitigating the reluctance in his voice.

“Every. Single. Thing.”

“Ok.”

It took Merlin most of the night to explain everything to Arthur but by the time he was a year into the story he couldn’t imagine ever having Arthur not know the truth.