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Chapter Text

Arthur figured it out two months ago—the week after his father's death. He was remembering the look on the familiar sorcerer’s face when he killed Uther—the surprise, the pain, the realization that he did not succeed and magic will pay for this mistake, that made Arthur truly think about that horrid night again. 

The night his father died was mostly blurry and the memories came and went with time. But, he knew he overheard the conversation about the necklace that was placed around his father’s neck—the necklace that Morgana had put there to reverse whatever healing spell was used.

Arthur was walking meaningless around the corridors that day until he had to stand vigil at his father's death bed when he found himself in front of Gaius’s chambers—as he usually comes here for some quiet. Honestly, he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he heard Gaius mutter: “I found it around Uther’s neck. It appears...been enchanted and such an enchantment would have reversed the...healing spell. Uther didn’t stand a chance.”

The “your” healing spell to Merlin wasn’t heard where Arthur was listening on the other side of the door, but he understood the gist of the conversation. They were talking about treason, Arthur first thought, and yet? Arthur threw the conversation out of his mind for days needing to prepare for his coronation. 

A week after he was crowned, he found himself frowning down at his desk. The world was once again calm around him, continuing on besides his heart still aching, but the thought forced itself into his mind connecting the three conversations.

The sorcerer truly tried to save Uther’s life.

Why would the sorcerer tell him all that shit about magic being good, to remember this act as the pure force magic can be, if he did not intend to truly save his father? The sorcerer’s eyes when he said, “I wish only to show you that magic can be used for good. I hope that one day you’ll see me in a different light,” shone with earnestness, pleading, and above all, hope. The sorcerer believed he was going to save Uther. 

And the conversation with Gaius? The sorcerer apparently did help, but Morgana thwarted any attempts to save him. 

Most importantly was the look on Merlin’s face during that last conversation of that day. He couldn’t believe he didn’t piece it together before. When he was still angry, and confused, and hurting from the loss of another parent, he told Merlin, “All I know for sure is that I have lost both my parents to magic. It is pure evil. I will never lose sight of that again.”

The agony and hurt that flashed across his servant’s face with silver lining his eyes meant nothing to him at the time, but now, when he thought about it, how could he not realize?

He knew the sorcerer’s eyes, and who would be dumb enough to help the prince of Camelot save Uther fucking Pendragon besides his stupid, loyal, brave, no-self-preservation-having manservant? 

Arthur had dropped the paperwork when he connected it all—all the adventures, all the talk of knowing more than he should, the mysterious saves, their enemies being destroyed miraculously. 

Merlin has magic. 

Arthur had refused to see Merlin for two weeks—sorting out what was real and what was fake. After the first week, he asked Gaius to explain everything since he kept going back to the same thought: Merlin had to be evil. And, well, that couldn’t be true, right? 

Of course, he thought after the week of brooding, that Gaius knew everything, even when it came to Merlin’s magic—he always does. It did sting a bit when Gaius backed away in pure panic when Arthur first asked him about Merlin, and when Gaius chose to hide Merlin instead of telling him, but Arthur managed his calmness until Gaius spilled it all. 

Arthur had almost cried, telling Gaius to leave and to not tell Merlin, and shut out everyone for another week. Merlin wasn’t pretending to be anyone but himself. He was still his silly, loving, caring self, but now he was just more. Arthur realized Merlin didn’t need magic to be special. Merlin’s personality was a paragon of magic itself already—having real, powerful magic coincided perfectly with everything Merlin was to him.

Merlin may have lied, but lying was the only way he survived this long. 

What hurt the most, Arthur noticed, was that Merlin never trusted him enough to tell him. 

Why would he when you just damned magic for eternity in his face? And that wasn’t the first time, was it?

After that thought, Arthur was mortified. Merlin would be lighting his own pyre if he told Arthur. Arthur couldn’t stop the tears threatening to overcome him. If his best friend couldn’t even trust him, then who could?

After that day, Arthur let Merlin back into his life—making himself not flinch every time Merlin brushed a hand against his body (which, he hyper-noticed, was way more than he remembered). 

Two months later, it felt like nothing had changed drastically in Arthur’s life when, in fact, quite the opposite happened. Arthur’s entire foundation was shifted and he forced himself to not show it to the world—to Merlin. He spent these few weeks trailing Merlin in the dark, since Gaius said that’s when his idiot for a servant went out by himself to overthrow a hidden plot that Arthur knew nothing about. 

Apparently, Merlin did this almost every night. Arthur was exhausted—how did Merlin do this without pause?

Watching Merlin sneak out, stopping Morgana’s minions or some random threat, then coming back limping or bleeding to plop into bed, and then waking up way too early to serve Arthur like he didn’t just kill a huge threat not six hours ago, was preposterous.

Arthur was bewildered. Watching from afar was starting to become a nuisance when Merlin was hurt and Arthur couldn’t show himself to help...not that Merlin needed it half the time. Arthur trembled with adrenaline every time Merlin left at night to save everyone, and, honestly, Arthur couldn’t take it anymore.

Merlin was throwing himself into danger at every chance to save Arthur, and Arthur needed it to stop. There was a very real possibility that Merlin could get seriously hurt if he continued this way, and Arthur was determined to not let that happen.

So, tonight, Arthur was going to tell Merlin that he knew, so maybe Arthur could finally get some peace of mind.

~~~~~~~~~

Merlin narrowed his eyes at Arthur’s uncharacteristic nervousness at dinner tonight. He wouldn’t look Merlin in the eyes, his leg was restlessly shaking, and he kept getting distracted when Merlin was trying to talk to him.

Merlin put down his wine glass, leaning back in his chair across from Arthur, “What’s wrong.”

Arthur’s eyes widened like he was surprised Merlin noticed something was wrong with him, “Nothing,” he said too fast.

“Mmhm,” Merlin nodded, “that’s a likely story. Arthur, I have never seen you this nervous. What could possibly be that nerve wracking right now?”

Arthur blushed, actually blushed! Merlin thought bemused.

“Oh, I just had something I wanted to run by you, if you wouldn’t mind…”

Merlin tilted his head, “Okay?”

Arthur cleared his throat, “Well-”

A knock came at the door then, and Merlin watched the relief flood through Arthur’s body. Merlin chuckled nervously, and yelled, “It’s open!”

Lancelot came in, breathless, “Merlin.”

Merlin immediately got up, noticing the look on Lance’s face, knowing that meant a certain danger only they were privy to. 

“I got to go, Arthur,” he turned back to see Arthur’s face hardening, “Can we talk about whatever you were going to say tomorrow morning?”

Arthur nodded, and it almost looked like Arthur was staring daggers into Lance, but Merlin shook that thought away and smiled brightly at his King.

Arthur’s features softened at the smile, “I’ll see you later, Merlin.”

Merlin glanced behind one more time, catching Arthur moving to his window, and continued after Lance.

“What happened, Lance?”

The man in question grimaced, speaking quietly on their way to Gaius’s chambers, “There is a monster to the left of Camelot, and Gaius said you should be able to handle it alone. It’s only weakness, as you probably guessed, is magic.”

Merlin gave a dramatic sigh, “Would my day be complete without slaying a big evil monster in the night?”

Lance chuckled at that, “I’m coming with you tonight,” and at Merlin’s face of confusion, Lance continued, “You know I hate you doing it yourself. So, I’m putting my foot down. Even a man of your talents should have backup.”

Merlin’s heart filled at the determination in his friend’s voice, at the man’s loyalty to him, “Are you sure, Lance?”

Lance slung his arm around his shoulders, “Of course, my magical friend. You know I’m always here for you.”

Merlin smiled and side hugged Lance, “Let’s go save Camelot, shall we?”

Night had truly fallen by the time Lance and Merlin snuck out through the usual channels. Lance had insisted on going in his knight armor, forcing Merlin to wear a few pieces of chainmail himself even as Merlin scoffed at the idea—but at Lance’s insistence that it would make him feel better, Merlin gave in.

Currently, with Merlin scowling at the clunkiness of the armor, they made their way to the creature that Gaius informed them was terrorizing a few towns closer to Essetir. It took them a few hours, but they eventually found the creature’s nest.

Merlin’s heart ached at hurting another magical being. Maybe if he got the animal to understand that what it was doing was wrong, he could save it instead.

Steeling himself with his plan, he whispered a spell to keep Lancelot in place.

“Merlin! Why would you do that?”

Merlin gave Lance a small, innocent smile, “Well, I said you can join me, but I never said I would let you put yourself in danger. It’s my fight, I promise I have this.”

Before Lance could reply, knowing the man was quite upset with him at the moment, the creature came bouncing back into its home.

It stiffened when it heard Merlin approach it. The animal had the face like a large white dog, but with more of a feline body. Merlin, with his hands out to placate, walked slowly to the still animal.

“Hello there,” Merlin said softly, letting some of his magic shine through his eyes. The creature blinked, tilting its head in contemplation, sniffing the air around Merlin. It seemed to consider Merlin not a threat as it slowly inched closer to the warlock.

“That’s it,” Merlin cooed, “You aren’t so scary, are you?” 

When the creature was almost to Merlin’s hand, Merlin heard fast rustling behind him, the unsheathing of a sword, followed by the words, “Merlin, get out of the way!”

Merlin was about to yell at Arthur, because he knew the prat’s voice anywhere, to go away, but the new person running at them frightened the poor animal badly, causing it to swipe its large paw at an unprepared Merlin, sending him flying across the clearing. 

Merlin hit a tree, hard. A wound forming on the side of his head started bleeding profusely, but before he even realized what had happened, he blacked out.

A few hours later, with a mighty headache, Merlin opened his eyes slowly, hearing the sound of his name. 

Blinking away the spots in his vision, Merlin, who realized was laying on the ground, reached up to touch the tender place on his head while sitting up against the tree.

“Ow,” he said quietly, his eyes widening now noticing the two pairs of eyes intently on him, “Oh, hello," he tilted his head, "Do I know you guys?"

Chapter Text

~~~~~~a few hours before~~~

After pacing around in his room for a bit, Arthur decided to follow Merlin into the woods again, and this time, he was going to confront Merlin while helping him defeat this new creature to show Merlin that Arthur was on his side—even with the magic. He would always be on Merlin’s side.

Arthur had already figured out that Lancelot knew before him, which also hurt, but he was just grateful that Merlin had at least one person to lean on. It made sense, really, considering how close those two were. Lance always looked after Merlin whether it was if he ate enough, or slept enough, or if he needed any help with his chores. 

Arthur usually rolls his eyes when Lance asks, but he is always secretly happy that someone was making sure Merlin was alright since Arthur doesn’t let himself do it. He does it when he thinks Merlin won’t notice too much, like adding a second plate at breakfast and dinner so Merlin can eat with him, or when he added more servants when he listened to Merlin complaining about there not being enough help around the castle and his friends, Dara and Annie, were being overworked. These little things that would help Merlin without explicitly saying anything out loud was how Arthur showed that he cared, and that he does listen—no matter how much Merlin says he doesn’t. Arthur doesn’t know if Merlin notices the little things he does, and he doesn’t think he wants him to. If it makes Merlin at least a little happier, letting that brilliant smile of his show more, then it is worth it to Arthur.

When Arthur started following after them, Merlin’s outfit had given him pause. Merlin in knight’s armor looked... right. Like he was always meant to wear the knight’s equipment. He saves them constantly, he should be a knight. That thought made Arthur’s blood pump faster for some reason, so trying to get the image of Merlin wearing everything including the Camelot cloak out of his mind, he raced after his friends. 

It wasn’t too difficult to track them—especially since Merlin’s grumbling made Lance laugh the whole way. When they arrived before him, Arthur knew, just by Merlin’s chin lifting and back straightening, that Merlin was about to do something foolishly brave. 

Arthur watched, stunned, as Merlin froze Lance and continued forwards without help. Arthur’s mind raced with fear as Merlin stepped closer to the beast. 

His feet were running before he even thought to help. Almost in slow motion, Arthur ran, pulled out Excalbilur, yelled at Merlin to move before the idiot got himself killed, while, almost simultaneously, the beast frightened so badly by his entrance that it slammed it’s paw into Merlin—sending him flying. 

Arthur stopped dead—staring without seeing Merlin, bleeding and unconscious, in front of the tree. He belatedly heard the creature run away.

Lance ran up next to him, staring at Merlin as well, “Sire…”

But as they watched, they could see Merlin’s chest move up and down, the feeling of relief almost threatening Arthur to his knees. Lance pulled at Arthur’s arm, forcing him to walk towards Merlin. 

Arthur’s mind was void of all rational thought. 

Your fault, repeated, crowding in his mind, replaying the event over and over. The sound of Merlin’s head hitting the tree was the only noise he could hear. 

Closer and closer they got, and Arthur couldn’t stop staring at Merlin’s chest: rise and fall, rise and fall. 

“I did this,” Arthur whispered, “Lance, I can’t…”

Lance looked over at Arthur’s shaky voice, sympathy on every line of his face, as he gently helped Arthur to kneel in front of Merlin. Lancelot didn’t offer anything, knowing Arthur wouldn’t listen yet, as he dug in his pocket to grab some cleaning rags and fresh wrapping cloth. 

Arthur barely noticed as Lance left and came back with some water, cleaning up Merlin’s injury, and sitting back down next to him. 

Lance placed his hand on Arthur’s arm, “Arthur, you did not mean for this to happen. Merlin heals quickly, I know this for a fact, and he won’t want you blaming yourself for this. You know he won’t.”

Arthur’s mind cleared a bit as he moved from his knees to sit down properly next to his knight—both of them staring at Merlin’s too still body. 

“Lance, I know about the magic too.”

He felt Lance stiffen immediately, “Sire, please, let me—“

Arthur put his hand up, cutting him off, “No need. I already know and I’m not mad...anymore, at least. I came here to help, actually, since I have been following him for a few weeks now, watching as he threw himself into danger at every turn.” Arthur shook his head, adding quietly, “I just wanted to help.”

Lancelot relaxed almost imperceptibly, “As did I, but as you know, Merlin doesn’t allow help too easily.”

Arthur let out a small breathless laugh, remembering the outrage on his knight’s face when he ran past him the second Merlin spelled him to stand still. 

Arthur did not move from his position for hours, letting Lance set up a make-shift camp with whatever he could find. After a fire was brightly burning, with some rabbits roasting, Arthur noticed Merlin’s eyes twitching.

“Merlin,” Arthur breathed out, standing up and ignoring the aching in his legs from sitting in the same position for too long, “Merlin, can you hear me?”

Lance rushed over to Arthur, his expression hopeful as spoke to Merlin, “Merlin, it’s Lance and Arthur. You’re going to be just fine. You gave us a scare, like always.”

“Merlin,” Arthur softly said again, “come on, open your eyes, Merlin.”

They watched with bated breaths as Merlin groaned himself awake, moving a hand to his wound, and slowly blinking his eyes open.

The air rushed out of Arthur as he laughed, the relief feeling sweet in his lungs that Merlin was awake and okay.

“Ow,” they heard Merlin say, making them smile, then: “Oh, hello. Do I know you guys?”

Arthur felt like he was punched in the gut. Was Merlin joking with them? 

“Merlin,” Arthur scoffed, “This isn’t the time to joke around. We were scared to death!”

Merlin tilted his head again, “How do you know my name? Where’s Will?”

Lance took a step back, his eyes wide, and Arthur saw how the man’s hands shook, “Merlin?”

Merlin snapped his head towards the knight, narrowing his eyes, “That is my name, the last time I checked. Did you guys kidnap me or something? Is that why my head is pounding? Did you knock me out? Are you going to kill me? Where’s Will?”

They watched, petrified, as Merlin worked his way into a panic. 

Lance stumbled forwards, as Arthur was just staring at Merlin with horror and guilt, speaking fast, “No! Merlin, we didn’t kidnap you!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

These men took him from his mother, from his home, his only friend. Will, he needed to find Will to make sure he was okay. If he was taken, it was no doubt when they were exploring the woods again. Merlin’s breaths came in fast, his magic reacting to his fear, and he gasped.

Why is my magic so intense? How many days was I knocked out? Did they drug me!?

Merlin grabbed the tree to help himself stand, ignoring the knight speaking to him to organize his own thoughts. Yesterday, or whenever they took him, he was with Will, right outside of Ealdor. Merlin quickly looked around, noticing the unfamiliar woods surrounding them, and looked back at his captors.

The knight is wearing the red cloak. No, no, not good.

Merlin backed up quickly, his hands flying up, “You’re a Camelot Knight?! Get away from me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He watched as the man in the red cloak stopped advancing, as the knight’s face fell with an unreadable expression. The pretty blond one took another step towards him.

“Merlin, we are not here to hurt you. I promise,” the man even had a dreamy voice that was ruined by the undertone of fear. Merlin noticed this with a sigh, upset that he would have to hurt the attractive man.

“Yeah? Who are you to make such pretty promises? Anyone from Camelot is a threat to mother and me, so thank you for not killing me and all..but I have to go. Now.”

Right when the two men opened their mouths again, Merlin reacted instinctively. His magic flew out of him in a burst of white light. Merlin stumbled back from the power, staring at his hands in surprise. What happened to me? He had wished his magic to make the men sleep, not to hurt, and it answered quickly, and to Merlin’s great pleasure, it answered exactly how he wanted.

Hm, that’s a first. Interesting.

Without wasting more time, Merlin quickly grabbed one of the roasting rabbits and ran towards the sunrise. 

He was going home.

Chapter Text

It was actually quite simple to find his way home. His kidnappers had camped closer to Essetir than he originally thought, so, slowly, the trees became more familiar, and after walking for the entire day, he found the hill right outside Ealdor. 

When Will and he were younger, they used to sit up here to watch the sunrise when they could. Merlin always enjoyed the symbolism of starting a fresh new day with each sunrise—Will usually scoffed, saying something about time being a construct, but Merlin knew that Will secretly agreed with him, especially when Merlin would see how much Will adored the brilliant colors peaking through each minute as the sun rose. 

He stopped at the top of the hill, mesmerized by the colors of the sunset behind the forest he just walked through. The dark reds, oranges, pinks, and yellows were blinding at this angle, shining through the trees. Merlin always loved nature, and when he became friends with Will, he slowly showed his friend how beautiful all of it was.

Turning back around, Merlin headed towards his home. Walking through his small village, only a few people were still outside. Some of them waved, others didn’t, but that didn’t hurt Merlin’s feelings too much, not after growing up with worse. In the approaching darkness, Merlin couldn’t see their faces, but he knew he could tell which was Will’s face even in the night. Nothing, Merlin noted, not too concerned. He is probably helping Caroline, his mother, with dinner so Merlin stopped by Will’s home first.

Without knocking, he waltzed right in.

Caroline yelped loudly, dropping her empty wooden bowl on the floor, as she turned to face the new intruder.

“Merlin! You scared me!” She laughed fondly, walking quickly to hug the boy. Merlin noticed how gray her hair had gotten, and how pronounced the lines around her face were, and frowned slightly. How long have I been taken?

“Hi, Caroline,” Merlin hugged her back, smiling as he leaned back. She was like a second mom to him, always has been.

“Do you want to eat dinner with me?” She asked hopefully, making Merlin smile more.

“I would love to! Where’s Will?” Merlin moved his eyes around her small cottage, looking for said friend.

Caroline’s smile faded, the darkness under her eyes looking more prominent than ever, as she frowned, “What?”

Merlin went to ask again when the door opened, and Merlin thinking it was finally Will coming in, he turned around with a huge grin, “Finally! I was getting-”

Hunith, who also looked like she had aged as much as Caroline, swept Merlin into a crushing hug, smiling so wide Merlin thought it might hurt.

“Merlin! I heard you were back in town, how are you my sweet boy?”

“Back in town?” Merlin mumbled, “What do you mean?”

Hunith’s smile also fell as she tilted her head in confusion, “Is something wrong in Camelot?”

Merlin took a step back, “Camelot? Why on earth would I go to Camelot?”

Hunith blinked, looking at Merlin and then at Caroline’s teary eyes, and spoke again, “Merlin, what happened?”

Merlin took a deep breath, they wouldn’t like that Will and him went exploring into the woods again, but he explained; “Well. I remember Will and I were exploring the woods,” and added quickly, “which I am sorry that we went again,” and then he scrunched up his face telling the rest, “and then I woke up with a pounding headache in the middle of the woods with two strangers staring at me. They apparently kidnapped me, and probably drugged me, but I got away. Will wasn’t taken with me, so I had hoped that he got away and came home. Is he not here?”

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the tears rolling down Caroline’s face, “Is he not home?” He repeated, readying to search the woods in the dark for his best friend if he had to.

Hunith’s skin had gone deathly pale, her eyes slightly filling as well, “Merlin, let’s go home and talk there, okay?”

Merlin was about to ask again where his friend was, but Hunith gently grabbed his arm and pushed him out the door. Right outside, he heard Hunith whisper some things to Caroline, hugging her tightly, wiping her friend’s tears away.

As they walked back to their home, Merlin quietly watched his mother. She seemed to be sadder now, it almost felt like it surrounded her like an aura. Merlin frowned again, not understanding how his mother could look so different than she did just a few days ago.

When they walked inside, Merlin thought about having some tea, so his magic leaped out of him at the request. Both mother and son gasped as the tea started making itself, as the chairs were pushed out for them, and as the fire blazed to life.

Hunith looked at her son questionly, but Merlin shrugged helplessly, “My magic has been, um, more intense since I woke up with those strange people. I don’t know what they did to it, but I think I have it mostly controlled…..mostly.”

Hunith sat down first, watching the tea with a clinical eye that Merlin knew meant nothing good.

“Mother?”

Hunith looked up at her son sadly. Merlin saw the heartbreak all over her face as he rushed over to sit across from her, grabbing her hand.

“What is it, mother? Are you okay?”

“Merlin,” she squeezed his hand lightly, “I think something has happened to you, my little bird.”

Merlin blinked, surprised, “What?”

Hunith cleared her throat and straightened her back, “Merlin, you’ve lived in Camelot for a little over four years now.”

Merlin flinched back, hitting the back of the chair with a thud, “No, I haven’t. I live here. Why would I go to the one place that despises me? You would never let me go there.”

Hunith flinched a little, but her strength did not fade, “I sent you there to Gaius, don’t you remember?”

Merlin frowned, shaking his head slightly, “Mother, you sound crazy! I was just with Will, how could I have been in Camelot all this time? I’m only 16 years old! You need me here.”

Hunith frowned, leaning forwards to feel Merlin’s head, “My boy, are you feeling alright? You mentioned something about a pounding headache when you woke up?”

Merlin nodded slowly, “Yes, I woke up and the pain was horrible. My magic helped, though. There were these two people there, one of them was a Camelot knight with kind eyes and short brown hair, and the other was a blond man who was rather dreamy.”

Hunith smiled a little at his descriptions, “I’m assuming that was Lancelot and Arthur, Merlin, and that you must have hit your head rather hard to forget 6 years of your life.”

Merlin gaped, “6 years? What, you're saying I’m 22?”

Hunith nodded sadly, putting a gentle hand on his cheek, “Yes. Those two, your kidnappers, as you called them, are truly your friends. They have been for a few years now.”

Merlin’s face blushed, “Oh. I knocked them out cold when I thought they hurt me and Will.”

Hunith’s face fell again, and Merlin noticed it immediately, “What else? Nothing could be worse than apparently losing 6 years of your life, which I can barely believe. And I think I am taking this rather well, actually. Especially considering I chose to live in the worst place for me while befriending a Knight of that godforsaken land!”

He finished trying to make his mother smile again with his rambling, but her face remained solemn.

“Mother?”

She cleared her throat again, tightening her grip on Merlin’s hand, “Merlin, Will isn’t here anymore.”

Merlin moved his head to the side, “Did he move with me when I apparently moved to the devil’s land four years ago?”

She quickly nodded her head no, making Merlin frown again, “Is he okay?”

She nodded her head no again, her tears reforming at her eyes, and Merlin shook his head with her.

“No, no, he’s fine. You probably haven’t heard from him in a while, then? I should go find him,” but as Merlin tried to get up, Hunith grabbed his other hand to stop him.

“Merlin,” she said softy, her tears falling freely as she made eye contact with her son, “Will died a little over three years ago.”

Merlin stilled, staring uncomprehendingly at his mother, “No.”

Hunith gave a small nod, “You were with him at the end, my beautiful son. You were able to say goodbye. He saved you from the prince during his last few breaths.”

Merlin started trembling, his thoughts unclear, as he stared and stared at his mother. 

Merlin numbly took his hands back from her, standing up on legs threatening to make him fall, as he backed up.

“I’m..I’ll be back,” he barely whispered it as he strolled out into the crisp night air. He let the wind nip at his skin, his hair, his body. He felt empty, out of control, and useless. The anger surged within him.

He died in my arms and I can’t even remember his last words.

I left him. I left him. I let him die. I left him.

He didn’t remember when he started running, but realized when his legs were burning from the exertion. He didn’t stop or falter. His magic reacted to his anger—this blinding anger at himself, at the world, for failing his best friend who he loved with his entire being—as the trees shook with his pain, as the wind picked up steadily around him, as thunder roared above him.

He doesn’t even know how he died. He doesn’t remember, evidently. Those thoughts pushed him further, until his chest felt like it would cave in and collapse with each breath. 

When he opened his eyes, heaving, he realized he was at the clearing they used to go to all the time when they were younger. The memories were unwelcomed as they flooded in, making Merlin flinch at the nostalgic feelings battling within his still simmering rage. He blinked away the pain—it was nothing compared to what he deserved. 

He fell to the warm ground, lying on his back, staring at the dark clouds blanketing the world. Thunder barked, close to him, and he did not move. He watched, numbly, as lightning smashed into the earth with an unchecked power that Merlin vaguely felt resembled his magic begging for an escape.

Feeling no need to hold it in any longer, he let go of the temporary leash he made on his power and faintly watched as his world exploded beneath him.

Chapter Text

Arthur and Lance had been walking since they came to. Arthur had refused to camp all night as he knew exactly where Merlin was going, and he was not stopping until he knew Merlin was safe. It was the middle of the night, both of the knights dead on their feet, when they heard and felt the world explode—a familiar sense of magic washing over them simultaneously. The magic felt pained, almost, making them sprint faster towards the source.

Arthur stopped dead, making Lance hit him in the back, when he saw what happened. Arthur stared, terrified, as Merlin lay in the center of a crater, everything blackened within a ten mile radius. 

Hearing Lance’s small gasp of “Merlin” spurred Arthur’s brain to work again, making him speed up towards his warlock.

“Merlin,” Arthur said softly, walking up to the edge of the deep hole where Merlin lay blinking up at the sky, “Merlin?”

Merlin’s dull blue eyes glanced at him, then at Lance, and then back to the sky. He saw Merlin’s lips move, but heard no sound, so he jumped and rolled into the man made hole right next to him. 

Arthur heard him now as Merlin was forced to repeat himself, his lifeless eyes now drilling into Arthur’s, “Arthur, as in the prince?” 

Arthur blinked, confused, “Well, not anymore. Why?”

Lance jumped in after him, quickly whispering in his ear, “Sire, Will. It was Will.”

Arthur flinched, remembering how the young man died. In the arms of his best friend...saying he was the sorcerer that conjured the wind. Arthur took a step away from them, connecting what happened that day, “Oh.”

Merlin let out an empty laugh, “Oh,” he mocked softly, “priceless. My best friend saved me from you? My mother believes we are friends, but how can that be when my dying friend had to save me from you in his last moments,” and added a bit bitterly, “apparently, since, you know, whatever happened with you two knocked out six years of my memories.”

Merlin still did not move from his spot on the ground as he continued on, “Oh! Did you just realize that I had magic as well?”

He eyed Arthur’s paling face critically as he swept a hand in their direction with his now gold-tinted eyes, “Whatever, you were probably bound to kill me one day or another, Arthur Pendragon. Did you know my mother used to tell me stories about the evils of Camelot? How important it was for me to run if I ever saw your red cloaks anywhere near me?” He let out another weak laugh, “How sad, huh? Will died while saving me from you while I probably could have saved him if you weren’t even there.”

Arthur stumbled back then, his breathing hitching as Merlin’s word hit their mark. Arthur hadn’t even thought of that. Will would have lived if Arthur wasn’t there...Merlin would have saved him with magic.

Lance grabbed his arm, his eyes wide on Merlin, “Merlin?”

Merlin moved his eyes that had retuned to the still dark sky to Lance, “Yes? You must be Lancelot, then?”

Lance nodded his head, his face carefully blank, “You told me this story, you know, when you remembered.”

Merlin scowled, “What good is that to me now? My best friend is still dead either way because of this golden prince, oh wait no,” he spat out the word, “king, who, by the way, can try to kill me if he wants,” he looked directly at Arthur then with his eyes glowing slightly golden, “but I doubt you will hit your target.”

Arthur’s breathing came in faster then, disbelief filling his features, Merlin would never hurt him, would he? The much more rational part of his mind reminded him what Camelot meant to people with magic, how much fear they must have engraved within them from the start, and how this Merlin, the one who doesn’t remember, was just told his best friend was killed because of him. Him: the man who represents that fear, the man that this Merlin owes no loyalty to, the man who did kill his best friend. 

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered, his heart breaking at the empty look he put on Merlin’s face, “I am so sorry.”

Merlin looked back up to the sky, smiling slightly, “Sorry, huh? That’s nice. Thank you for being sorry, King Arthur. You may leave now.”

Lance’s face was distraught, “Merlin, no, wait-”

Arthur grabbed Lance’s arm back, “No, Lance, it’s okay. Let’s go.”

Lance looked at him in surprise, and was about to ask something, when Merlin spoke up at their turned backs, “Have fun at your castle, Your Majesty. I doubt I’ll ever see you again.”

Arthur flinched, the words crushing the breath out of his lungs as he felt his other half slip between his fingers, but he kept pulling Lance until they were both out of the hole.

Lance stopped at the edge, “Sire! We can’t just leave him! Not now. Not when he should have his friends at his side.”

Arthur took a breath, and then another, willing the tears to stay put as he spoke, “We aren’t leaving, Lance.”

At his knight’s confusion, he pulled him further away from Merlin, “We are going to Hunith. Maybe by the time Merlin returns, I can talk to him?”

Lance nodded, his face still sad, “Sire, you know it’s not true, right? Merlin never held you responsible for Will’s death—he has told me as much.”

Arthur tried to smile at that, knowing that probably was how his Merlin felt, “Yes, but, this isn’t our Merlin, yet, is it? He has every right to hate me.” And then he added quietly, “I know I would hate me in his position.”

The real question swimming in Arthur’s mind was if Merlin felt that way when it happened, why did he ever stay? Anyway Arthur looked at it, it must have been his fierce loyalty keeping him next to Arthur. Arthur had killed Will, and Merlin trotted back with him after, masking anything he felt about it. Arthur’s breath caught as they walked to Hunith’s home. Merlin had to hide so much of himself in order to stay at Arthur’s side...how was he worth it?

~~~~~~~~~~

Merlin sat there long after the King and his knight left, an unsettling feeling still lingering in his gut at his words. He hasn’t been that cruel before, and he honestly didn’t even know where it came from. 

Replaying the words over, seeing the pain across the King’s face, made him really realize how little he knew this man. Maybe Will saw something with Arthur that Merlin didn’t understand now that would make more sense. Something had to make more sense than Merlin simply letting Will die?

The King did not touch him after the magic was revealed, and that was odd, wasn’t it? This was the boogeyman's son, surely he should have killed Merlin where he laid?

Maybe he is different, that is why Will saved him and gave him more time at the prince’s side, but that thought was not welcomed as Merlin tried to shake it off.

Seeing the beginnings of sunrise, Merlin felt he should return to his mother before she worried. He would put up a front, he thought, to mask all the turmoil within begging him to hide away from the world.

As he escaped the hole, he blinked at the carnage surrounding him. His heart broke a little more knowing he was capable of such destruction. With tears building up, he slid to his knees in the middle of the clearing, apologizing to the earth. 

“You did not deserve this,” he whispered brokenly, “and I am sorry I caused you such tragedy.”

He felt the magic of the earth answer back with a small tug, and he watched, dazed, how the clearing bloomed once more in a golden light of natural magic coming from deep within the earth. He saw how his hole filled easily, how flowers of every hue sprouted all around him, how the grass was greener than it was before he came. 

Surrounded by such pure magic, Merlin let out a wet laugh of relief. 

“Thank you,” he breathed to the world, feeling the magic swirl around him in comfort. After a few more seconds of the beautiful magic, it returned back to where it came. Merlin breathed in the fresh air, feeling his broken heart feel a little less scattered.

He blearily got up and started toward home again, wanting more than anything to sleep and to talk to his mother, when he heard the distance shouts of panic.

Without thinking too much about it, he ran towards the yells. Realizing his magic was more hyper alert than he was, he ran faster knowing that the yells were coming from miles towards his home. After running for what felt like forever, he finally reached the scene of chaos.

Lance was trying to get up to help Arthur, who was attacking a large creature, that looked part-dog part-lion, with a beautiful sword that swung like an extension of Arthur himself.

“Come on, then!” Arthur yelled, circling the creature, “I can do this for hours.”

Merlin sighed and walked into the small area in front of the creature.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur was tired. He had been battling this creature for hours now and it hasn’t let up one bit. He was starting to think that this would truly be his end: dead by the creature that took away his Merlin. It was oddly fitting, he mused diving right.

He was about to try to give it one last blow before his knees gave up when he spotted Merlin walking in calmly towards him.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked weakly, “What are yo-”

Merlin’s eyes glowed bright, gently pushing Arthur and Lance into the safety of the tree line.

Arthur was not happy again, but he learned his lesson the first time and stayed put, helping Lancelot stand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Merlin, after getting the knights out of the way, gently approached the worked up creature.

“Hi there,” Merlin whispered, allowing some of his magic to show through his eyes as animals, in the past, have always seemed calmed by his connection with it, “Are you hurt?”

The creature slowed its’ panicked breathing, staring intently at Merlin. It came forwards, quietly, sniffing Merlin’s extended hand. 

Merlin’s heart tightened when he saw the blood coming out from its side, “Can I try to heal that?”

The creature looked where Merlin was pointing, tilting its head, which Merlin took as a “sure.” Merlin, not letting go of the eye contact, walked over to its side, putting a soft hand where the blade had struck. He had no idea of any spells, so he simply asked his magic to help this creature.

And just like before, his magic leaped up at being asked. He felt it flow through him, into the animal’s wound, stitching up what was hurt. He felt their connection then, the way they were both creatures of magic, and Merlin couldn’t stop the small smile on his face. The creature’s breathing evened out when the wound was healed, and it backed up to see Merlin’s face once more. It looked at Merlin curiously.

Merlin just smiled, feeling utterly spent, as he pet the creature’s head softly. 

He murmured to it, “You shouldn’t hurt humans, you know. They aren’t that bad.”

The animal made a noise that sounded close to a disbelief snort making Merlin laugh lightly, “I swear! I would recommend that you stay away from them, however, since they might think you will hurt them. Little do they know that you attack out of self-defense.”

Merlin felt the animal purr under his hand and soft words, “I feel you, little one. I am sorry people are scared of things they do not understand. One day, they will know about us, though! I know it in my heart. And then? Then, you come and find me, alright? You’ll always have a friend on your side.”

The creature made a noise of happiness, purring a bit more into Merlin’s body now, making Merlin chuckle, “Yes, yes, you are very cute.” The creature purred once more before stepping away from Merlin. Merlin smiled at the creature, “Till we meet again, little one.”

The creature made another noise of approval, hitting Merlin again gently with its head, and bounced away.

Merlin watched it go, his heart feeling more full than it has all night.

“Merlin?” 

Merlin turned around then, forgetting that they were still here, “Hey, sorry, I could have handled that earlier if I knew.”

Arthur stepped forwards, slowly, “Are you okay?”

Merlin blinked, swaying a little, “Yeah, why?”

Arthur walked faster towards him, “Are you sure? You don’t look so good.”

Merlin smiled, “Well, that’s rather rude to say, king.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur gave a soft smile, “Yeah, I suppose it is. My apologies.”

Merlin smiled again at him and tried to take another step towards them when Arthur saw his knees buckle. Arthur leaped and caught him before he hit the ground, his own knees protesting after fighting for so long, “It’s okay, I got you.”

Arthur lifted the unconscious Merlin in his arms, grunting at the weight.

“Sire, would you like—”

Arthur cut him off, already walking towards Hunith’s home, “It’s okay, I have him.”

Lance simply nodded, walking besides him, as they headed toward Ealdor. A new day was setting in, Arthur realized looking at the pastel colors staining the sky in front of them, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Clutching Merlin tighter to his chest, Arthur plowed on.

Chapter Text

Merlin woke up groggy, his head pounding slightly. He opened his eyes, frowning at the familiar ceiling. 

“Mother?” he called out weakly, lifting his head, trying not to flinch at the pain in his neck from sleeping in the same position for too long.

“Merlin! How are you feeling?” Lancelot startled him as he walked to sit next to the cot.

“Lancelot?” he asked with another small frown, “Where is my mother?”

Lance gave him a small smile, “Her and Arthur have been working in the fields all day,” he continued whispering in a tone of false-conspiracy, “I secretly think he enjoys all the hard work.”

Merlin let out a small puff of laughter, “I would imagine the King of Camelot had better things to do than help a random village boy’s mother in the fields.”

Lancelot gave him a sad look that Merlin couldn’t decipher, “Merlin, you aren’t some random village boy. Not to the King, not to me, not to all of Camelot.”

Merlin blinked, surprised, his mind finally catching up from the events of the past two days, “Oh.”

They fell into a companionable silence when Merlin tried to think through everything that had happened. As Lance went to make some tea, Merlin laid back down once more, connecting the life he had with what he knew now. 

Will was dead, that was the one fact he knew to be true facing these unknown years. Merlin didn’t know how or why, but he knew Will saved him from the prince somehow. How could he continue serving a man that had his best friend killed? Merlin’s stomach churned, nausea rising, hyper-aware that he was in a world where Will did not exist anymore—and what a horrid sensation it was. It was always Will and Merlin, they were going to face the world together one day—that was their promise. Together, no matter what. 

Will was the first and only person that accepted every part of him without doubt. Merlin’s mother once told him that: “We cannot pick and choose what parts of us to love,” and Will never picked him apart, never made Merlin feel like the monster he believed he was. Will knew magic flowed throughout Merlin’s veins, but he treated him no different. 

Will was his one friend in a world that was often cruel to Merlin, and honestly, Merlin had no idea how to live without his person at his side. 

Merlin cleared his throat, “Lance?” his voice sounding uncomfortably small to his own ears, “Can you tell me what I’m missing?”

With a look of sympathy and painful understanding, Lance nodded. A couple hours later found Merlin crying as Lance finished his tale. 

“I doubt you gave me all the details at the time,” Lance smiled slightly, “but that is the gist of it.”

Merlin nodded, wiping his tears away, asking the one thing that seemed to underline each of his forgotten tales, “So...Arthur.”

Lance gave him a devilish smirk that he wasn’t expecting, “Yes?”

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck, his face heating, “I love him, then?”

Lance laughed, taking pity on Merlin, “I would say so, my friend.”

Merlin let out a small laugh of his own, trying to file that information for later inspection, “And he knew about my magic? The King of Camelot knows...and he doesn’t want me burned?”

Lance opened his mouth to talk when a pointed cough drew away their attention. Merlin stood up quickly, staring at the golden king with the waning light illuminating him behind. He seemed to Merlin something of fiction now. 

Will died saving this king, and in his last breaths, saved Merlin the pain of losing both of his best friends in one day. This entire situation was unnerving, to say the least, but at least Merlin knew who his friends were now. 

The fast movement made him dizzy, however, so as he was about to fall over, he felt strong hands quickly hold him steady. 

Merlin closed his eyes, recalibrating, as he felt Arthur rub his arm absentmindedly with his thumb—the gentle touch may have helped as well. 

Arthur mused, “To answer your question: no, I do not want you burned, you idiot.”

Lance choked on his drink, “Sire..”

Arthur smiled, “What? I only heard the end of the conversation, I promise. I wouldn’t eavesdrop.”

Merlin stood rigid, did he hear the confession? He got his answer by the look of utter relief on Lance’s face. Merlin couldn’t read Arthur as well as Lance apparently could, and that didn’t sit right with him. He has been protecting him, almost dying for him, and loving him for four years—he craves that unknown connection again.

Knowing Will was gone still hurt, immensely, but he had to continue living the best he could. It won’t be easy, but at least he knows now that these two, and so many in Camelot, were on his side. 

Merlin laughed uncomfortably, leaning away from the king, and walked back to Lance. As Merlin went to sit down, he noticed Arthur’s face falling at his escape. Was that longing? Relief? Pain? Merlin, upset, couldn’t tell. 

“So,” Merlin smiled at them, “when are we to return to Camelot, then?”

Arthur blinked, “You want to come back with us?”

The surprise in his voice hurt Merlin’s heart, and he lowered his eyes, “Of course. I should apologize, sire-“

“Arthur.”

Merlin lifted his gaze, wonder filling him at the adamant way Arthur spoke, and he tilted his head, “Okay. I should apologize, Arthur,” that made the King smile, “the way I treated you two,” Merlin closed his eyes and shook his head, “I am so sorry. I didn’t know the whole story and I freaked out. There was so much I missed, and I was incredibly too hasty in my assumptions about you guys.”

“Wow,” Merlin looked up again to see Arthur smirking, “I think that was the first time I have ever heard you apologize.”

Merlin laughed, “Don’t get used to it, sire.”

Arthur’s face fell into a soft smile at the title, that Merlin tried to make it sound as sarcastic as possible, and Merlin noted that tidbit for later: using appropriate titles with sass makes the king smile.

Lance jumped up to help Hunith when she walked into the house with logs dangerously held in her arms, but Merlin simply caught them all with a thought and a blink of his golden eyes.

“Merlin!” Hunith scolded, quickly looking at the king with fear written in every feature of her body. Arthur just continued staring at Merlin...with wonder? Again, Merlin couldn’t quite place all the king’s emotions—Arthur had a knack, he realized, for not completely expressing everything he was feeling, but Merlin was determined to memorize every movement.

Merlin smiled sheepishly at his mother, “It’s okay! Lancelot told me that he knew already, and, well, you know my magic has been a bit more...potent, you can say.”

Hunith visibility slouched, “Arthur, how long have you known about Merlin?”

Arthur shook his gaze off Merlin’s face, finally, and walked over to comfort Hunith, “I’m sorry, I should have told you I knew today. It’s been a couple months now.”

Hunith’s eyes watered, “Really?” and when Arthur nodded, she hugged him fiercely and sighed: “Finally.”

Merlin watched with a heavy heart, knowing how stressful it must have been for both of them knowing about him, and, as if Lance could hear his inner turmoil, the man walked next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Together they watched as Hunith excitedly told Arthur how long Merlin wanted to tell him, as, apparently, Merlin wished it in every letter he sent to her for the last three years, and then she got into embarrassing stories of when Merlin was younger—which had Arthur loudly laughing for hours, so Merlin’s little gasps of incredulity were mostly for show. 

Honestly, Merlin thought surprised while watching, with a deep fondness in his heart, as Arthur helped Hunith set the food for dinner, how did I not notice the taut tether between us?

Just watching Arthur laugh made Merlin’s magic joyous as well, and Merlin learned, for the first time, that his magic had a liking to the young king. While Merlin couldn’t recall the past six years of his life, his magic apparently did. And when Arthur started telling stories about their adventures, he couldn’t help but be captivated by the way the king spoke about them. 

By the fifth story starting with “When Merlin and I…,” Merlin knew that returning to Camelot tomorrow was the only plan—not only to meet the people involved in these adventures, but to simply allow him more time with this beautiful king in front of him. 

If Arthur wanted him in Camelot, even as the grieving shell he is now, then who was Merlin to say no? 

Chapter Text

They left early the next morning after eating breakfast with Hunith, who, after some persistent begging on her part, made them swear to write to her as soon as they reached Camelot. Arthur had hugged her tight, and Merlin watched as his mother whispered something in his ear. He frowned, but he watched with slight confusion and wonder as Arthur seemed to be a bit surprised before he started nodding vehemently to her. 

After a few more minutes of teary goodbyes, Merlin reluctantly let go of his mother and hopped on a mare they acquired from a neighbor. And with everyone settled atop their horses, Arthur led the way to their next adventure. 

“So,” Merlin urged his mare next to Arthur’s, “what did she say to you?”

Arthur was smirking as he replied. “Who?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’m not blind, king. I saw my mother say something to you. So…what was it?”

Arthur started whistling, a melody that Merlin vaguely remembered, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with the warlock. 

Merlin placed his hand on his heart in false exasperation, eyes wide, as he gasped. “Sir Arthur, are you keeping secrets from me?”

Arthur’s face was towards Lance, but Merlin saw the reluctant grin form on the king’s face—it made Merlin slightly breathless, for reasons he did not completely understand.

Arthur looked at him at last, a small, soft smile on his face, as he changed the topic. And for more reasons Merlin didn’t completely understand, he let him do it.

“Are you excited to see Camelot?”

Lance made his horse go next to Merlin’s as he gave a dopey smile answering the King’s question. “I am. I miss my wife.”

“Gwen?” Merlin guessed. If the stores are anything to go by, Merlin figured out quite quickly that Lance was deeply in love with the beautiful maid (who was apparently one of Merlin’s best friends). 

Lance blushed. “Was I that obvious?” 

The warlock couldn’t help but laugh at the sheepish look on the knight’s face. “Lance, you talked about her like she hung the moon herself. I know love when I see it.” 

With his face burning, Lance grumbled something about going ahead to see something. Merlin and Arthur laughed softly, and when Lance was further up, Merlin turned his questioning stare onto the man next to him.

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “So are you?”

Arthur cocked his head. “Am I what?”

”Happy to be back here.”

Merlin watched as Arthur’s face went thoughtful before the king rolled his eyes at him. “Of course, you dollop-head, it is home, after all.”

At that, Merlin smiled. “Home, huh? Then yes, King Arthur, I am excited to see the place you call home.”

Arthur opened his mouth to respond, despite the fact that Merlin’s sentence made his face tinge pink, when Lance interrupted.

“Merlin, look!”

Merlin obliged, nudging his mare faster, and what he saw made his face go slack with wonder. From here, on top this hill, they faced Camelot in her entirety. The huge bright castle standing tall and proud in the middle of a bustling lower town had Merlin gaping. He had never seen so many people. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

Arthur hummed in agreement, but when Merlin looked over, the king hadn’t taken his eyes off the warlock. Merlin’s eyes went soft at the look of pure contentment on Arthur’s face, but his face had the King coughing to clear the air. Arthur shook his head, urging his horse to get closer to Merlin. 

“Are you ready to get reacquainted with your life, Merlin?”

Merlin looked back at the looming gates, the knights on guard, the breathtaking castle, and the abundance of people, and suddenly he remembered that this was the same Camelot that was the cause of so many sleepless nights, so many nightmares. He wiped off the cold sweat that began to form on his palms, and he turned his head to see Arthur and Lance looking at him in concern. Before they had the chance to ask again, Merlin lifted his chin and straightened his back—there was only one answer to give:

“Let’s go meet my family.”

Chapter Text

Arthur grinned and led the way towards the front gates where he jumped off to meet the guards. One of them was a rather large man with sleeveless chainmail and the other had dark, shaggy hair who was rather good looking, if Merlin had any say. 

Lance jumped off his horse next. “Come on, Merlin. There are so many people you have to meet.”

Merlin swallowed his fear. It felt useless, this fear of his. Why should he be so nervous to meet the people who fought and bled besides him? Who helped defend and protect Camelot just as he apparently did? The unease grew steadily. His heart beat faster, and his magic ached to soothe whatever was causing him so much pain. He suppressed the urge to defend himself, to flee. The magic was rather easy to hide, Merlin thought with a frown. It just tucked itself away like it happened all the time. His heart stung with the realization that it would’ve been an everyday thing, wouldn’t it be? He hid his true self from these people for four years. 

Merlin blinked at Lancelot, who was saying his name—probably not for the first time if Lance’s concern was anything to go by. Merlin just smiled at the knight and hopped off his mare. 

“Are you okay, Merlin?” Lance whispered. 

“I’m fine.” Merlin lied expertly, another skill he had been honing in his entire life. 

Lance swung his arm around Merlin’s shoulders as they walked to Arthur. The king turned around laughing as they came closer, and Merlin noted that the sound made his magic flicker happily. 

The shaggy haired man walked up to them and gave Merlin a huge hug. He even started squeezing the warlock until Lance rolled his eyes and dragged him off. The knight pouted. 

“I thought one of my hugs could bring him back.”

Arthur slapped the man on the back of his head. “Gwaine, don’t be daft. A true-love hug isn’t a thing, and, even if it was, Merlin would have to hug his mare.”

Ah, this is Sir Gwaine, Merlin cocked his head in contemplation, blocking out Gwaine’s retort back, he doesn’t seem drunk. But right as that thought passed, Gwaine frowned as he took a swig of something attached to his belt. 

The large man besides Gwaine pushed said knight aside. 

“Hi Merlin, I’m Percival, or Percy. I’m sorry about what happened to you, but if you need anything, I am always here to help you.”

The large man, Percy, smiled kindly at him, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Thank you, Percy. And Gwaine.” He nodded to the still frowning Gwaine. 

“You don’t remember me at all? We had so many great adventures, Merls! We saved the Princess here so many times.”

Merlin grinned as Arthur pushed Gwaine who just whined more that the king was being a bully in front of the new guest. 

“Shut up, Gwaine. Let’s go in. I’m sure Leon will have a lecture prepared for me, and Gaius, for that matter.”

Gaius, as it turned out, did not have a lecture for Arthur. Instead, he forced everyone to leave to give Merlin a proper exam. 

Merlin swung his legs back and forth on the cot, humming the same tune Arthur had. He watched as the older man read through some books, scribbled some notes, and when Gaius turned around to talk, the old man tripped. 

Merlin reacted instantly—his magic slowing down enough time for him to reach the physician. Time returned to normal speed the same second Merlin reached Gaius, helping the man to his feet. 

Gaius stared in wonder. “Thank you, my boy, it’s been a while since I’ve fallen in front of you.” The older man chuckled, “Actually, it was the first time we met. You had slowed time then, too, to place a bed beneath me after I fell from up there.” 

Merlin looked up to where he was pointing, a small smile playing on his face. It was curious that both times he met Gaius for the first time, Merlin had saved him with magic. 

Merlin watched as Gaius inspected him and asked him how he was feeling. Merlin was fascinated with medicine, he always had been, so his question interrupted Gaius’s interrogation. 

“Did I learn when I was here with you?”

Gaius raised his eyebrow. “What? Magic?”

Merlin shook his head. “No, medicine.”

Here, Gaius gave him a sad smile. “Yes, you are my ward. I’ve been teaching you all I know for the past four years. You are my best student.”

Merlin’s heart ached at the sadness in the man’s words. These people all missed who he was greatly. He was nothing but an imposter to someone they all deeply loved, and that thought spurred him to move away towards the door. 

Gaius gapped. “Where are you going? We have to figure out how to help you.”

Merlin rubbed his neck. “I, uh, have to go. I’ll be back, though, I promise.”

And without hearing an answer, the warlock rushed out. He convinced himself that he just needed fresh air, that's all. 

After asking a few passing servants, he eventually found his way to the courtyard. He smiled at the clear blue sky, the air already helping to clear his head. He could stay here with strangers who love him for a different version of himself…right? Shaking his head, not noticing where he was going, Merlin walked right into someone. 

“Oof.” The woman grunted, looking sadly at the laundry now fallen on the ground. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry miss. Here, let me help-“ his magic wasted no time. The laundry was cleaned off, neatly folded, and returned to the basket in a mere seconds. Both of them froze, watching as the basket floated back to the woman’s hand. 

Merlin looked up to the servant at the same time she looked at him. 

“Merlin?” She whispered, concerned and confused. 

He opened his mouth, but shut it a moment after. He didn’t know how to explain what just happened. He had been too distracted to rein in his magic before he ran outside, and now, this servant, who said his name like a plea, would be his end. 

She seemed kind, at least, so maybe she wouldn’t immediately burn him at the prye. The woman had soft brown eyes, curly brown hair, a small flower crown on her head, and a beautiful purple gown. 

After a few more seconds of tense silence, the woman looked around frantically before grabbing his hand and pulling him into a home a few houses down. Merlin watched, a tad dazed, as the woman pushed him into a seat and started making tea. 

“Do I know you?” Merlin whispered, scared to break this oddly peaceful moment. 

She turned around, her shoulders slumped. “Yes. I’m Gwen.”

Merlin sat up straighter. “Gwen? As in my best friend and Lance’s Gwen?”

She gave him a weak smile. “That would be me. Lance told me you lost your memory, but I didn’t think…” She shook her head. “Well, it doesn’t really matter anymore. I’m just glad no one saw what you did.” She took the tea kettle off the fire and placed it in front of him. Giving him a small cup with some cream, she prepared her own cup. 

He smiled down at the teacup in his hand. “You know how I take my tea.” He didn’t know why it made him feel safe, but it did nonetheless. 

She scoffed. “Of course I know how you drink your tea, Merlin. What are best friends for?”

He couldn’t help but grin at her, but then at her saddened expression, his own smile vanished. 

“Are you okay? Are you mad about my magic?”

She cocked her head, studying him. Her scrutiny almost made him feel like he needed to squirm away. It was like she saw right through him—and, well, the last person to truly know him was Will. 

“I am okay, and no, I’m not mad about your magic. I wish you told me when you were sound of mind, but hey, we can’t have everything.”

She stirred her tea around, still looking at him in the same way. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“So, you knew?”

She smiled at that. “Of course, Merlin. I’m not blind, you know. You and Lance would leave at night thinking you were being sneaky, when I heard you guys bickering every time you left here. After a few times, I started to figure out what was happening. I saw how Lance would always be fine when he returned home, so I knew something was keeping him safe on your midnight adventures. I never asked him since it wasn’t his secret to tell, but I’m rather observant. You saved me with magic, probably more than once. So, no, Merlin, I’m not mad.”

Merlin didn’t know when he started crying—maybe it was the tea, or his heightened emotions in a world that seemed so far yet so close, or the fact that this woman just accepted him, all of him, with only a few sentences. Gwen sat down in front of him, her hands resting on his arms, looking at him with a deep, and genuine, concern that Merlin felt he couldn’t breathe again.

Without another word, he gently stood up, bringing Gwen with him, and he hugged her like she was the only thing keeping him alive. He found a new Will, it seemed, and she was brilliant. 

“Merlin,” she put her hands on both sides of his face to wipe away the tears. “We are going to figure this out, trust me. You have dealt with worse situations.”

Giggling, Merlin wiped his nose. “I’m guessing the King is most of those situations.”

“Definitely.” She smiled at his attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “I can only imagine how out of place you feel right now, Merlin. But with or without your memories, you are still you. Kind, brave, and brilliant—who you are at your core does not change. We are only here to bring you back up to speed, but know you are loved, my friend.” She hugged him again, his breathing more steady than it has been all day.

“Okay,” he steeled his heart and mind with Gwen’s determination and compassion, “step one was meeting everyone, right? So, check. Step two, learn the old routine. Could you show me what my role is here?”

Gwen beamed. “Absolutely,” she put her arm through his, guiding him out the door. “This is going to be fun.”