Work Text:
The prince of Camelot stood outside the Rising Sun Tavern, shivering in the cool night air, trying to build up the confidence to go inside for the dice game of a lifetime against the best player in Camelot: Merlin.
Arthur liked his new servant. Merlin might not have been perfect at his job (or good at all), but Arthur considered him a friend and they worked well together. He liked how Merlin would always find ways to cheer him up. They had a good thing going, and Arthur had found it in himself to forgive his father for assigning Merlin to him.
One thing Arthur didn’t like, though, was that somehow Merlin was the best dice player he’d ever met—and he meant that with complete sincerity for once. He would never admit it out loud, but Merlin was good. Really good.
Too good.
How that was possible, Arthur had no idea. Once, the dang servant got so many correct calls in a row that he beat the entirety of Camelot’s knights who had each volunteered to play against him. It was unbelievable. Arthur was going to beat him today, no matter what.
In this particular instance, he entered the lively space and went to meet Merlin in the back corner of the tavern, at what had been dubbed the “gambling table,” with the most intense game-face ever. Merlin met his gaze, equally determined to win; there was a subtle touch of playfulness to it that perfectly suited the man’s personality. It was a distinctly-Merlin look.
Their eyes locked and it escalated to a full-on staring contest, just to try and gauge the other person’s competitiveness. It was mostly a game of luck, yes, but there was skill involved too. Arthur would beat his cheeky servant if it was the last thing he did.
After their very intense staring contest, one of the squires cautiously moved himself in between the two of them, dropped the dice on the table, and scampered away in a bundle of nerves. Clearly, they were exuding some incredibly intimidating levels of confidence.
Arthur rolled first, since Merlin had won the previous game… and the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that. Arthur wasn’t thinking about those, though—no, he had his eyes on the prize. The prince’s first call was within three numbers, and Merlin gave over that same amount of his chips to him.
“Aha!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, when he achieved even that small success. “Look at that, Mer lin. Your winning streak might just be ending.” His confidence for the night soared.
Of course, on the next turn, Merlin called a value and his roll was only one away from his guessed amount, so Arthur reluctantly gave up twenty perfectly good coins to his idiot of a manservant.
On the game went, and Arthur’s exceptionally meager winning streak of two rolls in a row—which he had been very proud of previously—was flat-out destroyed. Merlin just. Kept. Winning. How he did this every single time was a mystery. After having lost his third game in a row, Arthur knew something had to be up; no one could be this good at dice. Merlin had to be cheating. Arthur didn’t know how and he didn’t know why, but he was going to figure out how the hell Merlin was cheating at dice if it was the last thing he did.
~~~
Arthur’s quest to figure out how Merlin cheated was a bust. Four years later, he still had no clue how Merlin won so many games. By this point, he’d just had to come to terms with the fact that Merlin was either really good at rolling dice, or just extremely, unbelievably lucky.
Either way, Arthur had made his peace with it and did his best not to play Merlin at dice for the sake of his coin bag. Anyone foolish enough to play against Merlin was sure to have their pockets stripped by the end of the evening.
Then, of course, came Gwaine: Gambler Extraordinaire. Everyone knew Gwaine was good at gambling and starting bar fights, so when it came to his gamely pride, nothing could quench that sucker’s ego. That is, until he decided to play Merlin for the first time.
The battle against Morgana had just been won and Camelot had been reclaimed; the kingdom now had four new knights, all of whom were commoners. After the battle clean-up had finished, each was eager to prove himself worthy of the title of Knight. Most chose to do that with swords and fights, but not Gwaine. No, Gwaine was content to prove himself in the way he always did: by winning as much money and starting as many bar fights as he could. And of course, to win the official title of “master drinker and gambler” from the Rising Sun tavern, Gwaine would have to beat Merlin at dice. Arthur was confident that Gwaine had somehow heard the legends of Merlin’s extraordinary ability to beat every single person he played—no one in a tavern could avoid the stories—but Gwaine still swaggered into that tavern with confidence that he would prevail. Arthur knew that the man was about to be taken down a peg.
Somehow, he’d managed to rope Arthur into the whole ordeal as well, and Arthur was none too pleased at that. He didn’t particularly want to play against either of them separately, but going against them both was going to be significantly worse. Walking into the tavern, he sighed. His princely pockets would be leaving practically empty if either one of them had their way.
Arthur took a seat at the table after having squeezed through at least fifteen people who had gathered around in anticipation of the game. He was staring intensely at Merlin as they always did whenever they would play. After Merlin broke eye contact—he’d learned he should at least grant the prince of Camelot the small mercy of not losing a staring contest—Arthur sneaked a look at Gwaine, who already seemed confused by the strange rituals of dice between the prince and his manservant. He was about to get pummeled, and Arthur couldn’t wait to see it. Though his pockets definitely could. Why, oh why did he agree to be part of this game? He was about to lose so much money.
Oh well. It was too late to back out now.
As the prince, he was “granted the courtesy” of going first, but he knew it was really because he was the worst player there. He took his turn graciously, scoring a pitiful amount of points in the first round. If that wasn’t an omen for how the rest of the game was going to go, he would turn into a dragon right then and there.
Gwaine took his turn, cocky as ever when the count was only two values away from his call. Both Arthur and Merlin handed him ten coins.
Merlin went next and, as usual, got a perfect match between his call and his count. Arthur just rolled his eyes.
The game went on and on in the same fashion: Arthur held his head in his hands the entire time, unable to watch his money being taken (he was so far behind); Merlin had a shit-eating grin, ecstatic as his winnings continued to rise and rise and rise and, all the while, Gwaine sat there alternating between being dumbstruck at how far behind he was and cursing up a storm every time Merlin upped his points. After Arthur had accepted his fate and mourned his money, he had to admit, it really was quite hilarious to watch.
Eventually, though, the excitement wore off once Merlin had reached over a hundred points ahead of even Gwaine. Bored out of his mind with the game since he was losing so badly, Arthur’s eyes started to wander around the room. He was so far behind, it barely even mattered if he played anymore. Of course, the spectators were still watching, but they all knew Arthur sucked at dice. Thankfully, most of them didn’t care. As prince, he was required to prove himself in other areas, but gambling was not one of them, unlike for Gwaine.
Gwaine was taking his turn, riling everyone up as usual. He got a good call this time, but not nearly good enough to secure him enough points to pull in front of Merlin. This was the last round and Merlin had all but won.
As the crowd cheered him on, Arthur took a good, hard look at his best friend. Merlin, with his crazy winning streak and good-heartedness, his kindness and loyalty that made up for the fact that he was not a good servant. But Arthur didn’t keep him on because of his skills as a servant. Merlin was the best friend he could ever have, even despite the constant losses he always faced when gambling with the man.
It was Merlin’s turn, and Arthur tried to catch his eye as a show of friendly support, but Merlin seemed like he was intentionally staring off into space, not looking at anyone. For a moment, Arthur thought it was a strategy that he might use to keep himself from being distracted, but in the next, Arthur saw something he’d never expected to see in his servant and best friend’s eyes.
As Merlin called his number and rolled the dice, for the briefest moment, Merlin’s eyes… they turned gold. And it wasn’t a trick of the light or a glint of a torch. Arthur knew that right away and would have been a fool to try to pass it off as such. Arthur had seen a glow like that many times over the course of his life, and every single time it had happened, he’d nearly been killed afterwards.
By magic.
Magic.
Merlin had magic .
It felt like hours, but it was less than a single moment—he was suddenly up and out of his chair without realizing it. Thoughts and feelings flew so fast through his brain; he couldn't understand any of it. It was all a jumble in his head screaming out out out. He couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t even realised that he’d shot up from the table abruptly, bringing the game to a halt. Everyone in the tavern was staring at him and he needed to do something fast.
Unable to handle everything going on in his brain, Arthur managed—barely—to pretend that the fact he was losing the game was what had him rattled, and not that he was desperately trying to process the fact that he’d just seen his best friend use magic to WIN AT DICE!
He practically ran through the lower town, up to the citadel, all the way through the castle, and into his room where he quickly locked the door and collapsed on the bed, having pretended not to notice Merlin calling after him as he fled.
There was a knock at the door. He knew that it was his servant, but his thoughts were still flying and he was still reeling and he knew seeing Merlin at that moment was the worst thing he could do for himself.
Arthur was aware that if he used the “I’m sick” excuse, Gaius would be called to see how he was doing. A downside of being a prince is that if he claimed to be sick, he had to mean it. He could never use illness as a way to get out of things because Gaius would always know that he was faking. Gaius always knew.
Gaius always knew.
Wait… what if Gaius knew about Merlin’s magic? He and Gaius were very close. Could Gaius know, though? He would never keep a secret like that from the king, not with his devoted loyalty. But Merlin trusted Gaius. If he’d told him, Gaius should have talked Merlin out of learning it, but what if he hadn’t? Arthur knew he had to talk to Gaius. He was their resident magic expert. It was possible that he knew a way to reverse the evil effects of magic and help Merlin stay the pure soul he was.
Arthur made up his mind and opened the door to told him that he was in fact sick and needed to talk to Gaius. Merlin, the ever-wonderful friend he was, went to fetch the physician right away. Arthur couldn't help feeling completely conflicted and at a loss over what he’d learned. All he wanted was to be able to sleep, but he knew he would never be able to truly rest until he talked to Gaius.
The physician had been getting older, so it took a considerable amount of time for Gaius to come down, but he made it eventually. Merlin wanted to stay with Arthur, but Arthur managed to convince Gaius that it was a private matter and that it needed to stay between him and his physician. He was so confused and overrun with emotions that he couldn't even be bothered that Merlin had looked hurt as he left the room.
Once Merlin was gone, he and Gaius stared at each other.
“What seems to be the problem, Sire?” the physician asked.
For a moment, Arthur didn’t know quite what to say. How did he start the conversation by outing Merlin if Gaius didn’t know, all the while accusing Gaius, who happened to be one of the people Arthur trusted the most, of treason? He almost backed out, but then he remembered just why he’d called Gaius here. Gaius could talk to him about magic. Arthur didn’t even have to start out saying that he had seen Merlin do magic. He could start out slow, with a more general approach.
“Are you feeling ill, my lord?”
Arthur realized how long he’d been silent and decided that it was now or never if he wanted answers.
Arthur motioned for him to take a seat at the table across from him. “Gaius,” he started, “what do you think about magic?”
The physician stared at Arthur with a stunned look on his face. He clearly had not expected Arthur to ask anything like that. Thankfully though, the physician sighed and clasped his hands together on the table.
“Arthur, I don’t mind answering your questions, but why do you ask?”
Gaius seemed very hesitant, so Arthur figured he’d need to take this slowly. “I came across some information earlier; something that might change everything I’ve ever thought about my life and my relationships. I know you are Camelot’s expert on magical artifacts and issues. I trust you, and I want to hear your honest opinion on the matter.”
That seemed to be what Gaius needed to hear, because the older man seemed to relax just a bit, and settle into his chair like he had a lot to say.
“I think magic can be many things based on who wields it. There is no doubt that it can be exceptionally dangerous. You especially, Arthur, have seen firsthand the kind of terrors it can cause.”
He paused, and the tension in the air was so thick he could practically feel it hanging over him. Gaius hadn’t yet said anything Arthur didn’t know, but Arthur could tell something was holding him back from saying anything else. In hopes that Gauis would continue, Arthur consciously tried to relax as well.
“This is a safe space, Gaius. What you say in here will remain confidential. Please speak freely, as I’d be honored to hear your completely honest thoughts.
Gaius met his eyes and with one more nod from the prince, he continued.
“As I said, magic has caused many terrors to the people of Camelot over the years, but in the hands of someone who is kind and knows what he’s doing, someone who will use the power for good, then magic itself can be good. “Magic—”
He paused, thinking.
“Magic is a tool that is often used in a way contrary to what many believe it should be. There is a reason Camelot has the stance on it that it does, but many who have the gifts would use them to do true good, if so allowed. Magic reflects the character of the person who wields it.”
Gaius finished his explanation confidently, but Arthur was still confused on a few aspects of the whole thing.
“But how would you know if someone who uses magic isn’t being corrupted by it? Even if they start out good, how would you know that he’s not on a path to darkness just like—” Arthur bit his tongue on the name that came to mind, but the look in Gaius’ eyes told him all he needed to know.
“Arthur.” Gaius reached across the table to put a reassuring hand on the prince’s and looked him right in the eyes. “There is clearly something on your mind, though I can begin to guess what it might be. Your father has told you one thing about magic your whole life. If you are questioning his beliefs, which from the nature of this conversation I can assume you are, trust your instincts. This is a time for you to research and explore, and figure out where your opinions lie. You get to decide what you believe, and you are allowed to disagree with your father. All I ask is that as you look at the evidence presented to you before coming to a final decision.”
With that, Gaius stood slowly and made his way to the door. Just as he was about to open it, though, he stopped and turned back around.
“Your father doesn’t want you to know this, but I think it’s time you did. There’s a small hidden room in the back of the library behind the big black bookshelf that looks like it’s out of place. Holding down a section of the third shelf on the right-hand side will allow you admittance to the place where the very last books about magic in the kingdom are held. I am telling you this with the knowledge that come morning they may all be ash, but I hope that you decide to take some time to learn, and to come to your own conclusions about the magical world.”
Gaius abruptly left the room, leaving Arthur stunned at the table with a lot of things to think about.
~~~
It took Arthur two weeks of denying what he’d learned about Merlin, ignoring Gaius, and freaking out over the implications of Gaius’ suggestion before he couldn't take it anymore and decided to go take a look.
He entered the library at midday when he knew Geoffrey would be out at that afternoon’s council meeting. Arthur had spoken to Gaius earlier that day, and convinced the man to help him get out of the meeting for once. Being covered for by the physician had its perks, it seemed! Two words: fake illness. (Arthur had to admit that he was just a little bit excited about being able to get away with faking one for the first time in his life.)
Repeating Gaius’ directions over and over in his mind, Arthur made his way to the back corner of the library until he saw the aforementioned tall black bookshelf that, just like the physician-slash-magic-expert had said, looked incredibly out of place.
Whereas the rest of the bookshelves were a lighter wood, this bookshelf was jet black and made out of some kind of metal that he’d never seen before. It almost seemed to suck in all the light around it, making it look even darker and more menacing. It had a very off-putting feel about it. Arthur had no doubt that it was magical.
Arthur looked for the third shelf up that Gaius had mentioned and tried for a long time to find the right spot that actually opened the door. He very much did not fall flat on his face into the room when he leaned too hard on the bookshelf, not realizing that he had hit the correct spot and that the door opened inwards. He was grateful there wasn’t anyone else there watching him. Merlin would never have let that go.
The thought of his servant brought his head back into focus. Tumble aside, he was breaking the law by doing this, even if Gaius had broken it first by telling him where to find it. He shook himself off and took a good look at the inside of the room.
It was dark and dusty and—judging by the cloud of dust that had exploded out when he opened the doors—it hadn’t been cleaned in a very, very long time.
There were books all over the place, strewn about like someone had been in there searching for something.
It didn't look at all magical, though he’d not known what exactly he was expecting. Whatever the case, it hadn’t been this. It was just… books. He sat down on a small stool in the corner and picked up the first book within his reach: The Ins and Outs of Element Manipulation.
The book was boring as hell. Arthur had expected at least some kind of flair, but it was just as boring as any other book he’d ever read—he was seriously remembering why he hated reading.
Every single book he picked up was even more boring and technical than the last. They all treated magic as if it was a completely normal thing. There was no “how to be evil” or “how to destroy Camelot” like he had expected. No, it was just apparently step-by-step instructions that made no sense to him at all. How books like these could even help a magic user, he didn’t know. They didn’t even explain things very well.
~~~
The hours ticked by and, all of a sudden, he heard the great bell ring. He’d spent six whole hours mindlessly committing treason and he hadn’t even realized it. As he rushed to stand up, his back creaked, angry at him for not having changed positions for six bloody hours! Arthur realized that because of that, he would not be able to rush back to his room.
Thankfully, Geoffrey was still out of the library as he exited, and he was able to slip silently into the hallways and back up to his chambers.
Unfortunately, he had a very upset servant sitting at his table with his arms crossed and a look on his face that would have had Arthur dead in an instant if Merlin wished it. Arthur realized for a moment that it wasn’t — and hadn’t ever been — a figure of speech. Merlin could very well kill him right here and now if he wanted to. Merlin had only been using magic for dice as far as Arthur knew, but he didn’t have any clue what skill level Merlin was at. The book he’d been reading when the bell sounded had actually been about just that—levels of mastery and what it took to learn magic. It seemed like it took a lot of effort, and Arthur couldn’t help but be proud of Merlin for conquering that challenge. Wait. No. Wasn’t he supposed to be mad at Merlin for committing treason? When did that switch happen?
“— Arthur! ARTHUR!!!” The prince was shocked out of his thoughts, realizing that, once again, he’d been staring into space for way longer than he usually did. He needed to stop doing this. Any more instances and Merlin was going to realize something was going on.
“Something’s going on with you,” Merlin said, and Arthur was so embarrassed that he just about wished the floor would swallow him whole. It seemed it was too late.
“Nothing’s going on with me, Merlin,” he said quickly. His manservant just sighed and placed his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He looked up again after a moment.
“I know something’s been up. There’s no point denying it, ” he said quickly as Arthur moved to defend himself again. “It’s been going on for a while and I just want you to know that I am here if you need to talk about anything. I’m here when you need me, Arthur, and I’ll always do my best to help you whenever I can.”
Arthur knew that, but it didn’t stop the hurt that came blossoming up. For so many years, Arthur had been completely honest with Merlin about everything, yet Merlin had kept the magic a secret from him. While he knew Merlin must be struggling with Arthur not confiding in him, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to care about that very much, though; Merlin had done the same to him. He knew how petty it was, but Arthur couldn’t stop himself feeling this way, no matter how much he wanted to.
These moments, when all those feelings from the day he found out came rushing back, he couldn’t help but wish that it had never happened and he’d never found out. He knew he liked knowing about Merlin's magic. It gave him an understanding of who the man is that he would never have had otherwise, but until the blooming hurt passed… well, it hurt, knowing that he knew this about Merlin but didn't have the courage to tell him.
“Thank you, Merlin. You may go.” Arthur just needed time to himself, to remind himself of all he’d learned through his reading. Just like Gaius had said, magic was a tool, not a default weapon. Merlin was not evil, and neither was his magic.
Not realizing that Merlin hadn’t left yet, Arthur sat on the edge of the bed in silence for a moment. When he felt the bed dip as Merlin sat next to him, he didn’t push him away, needing to take comfort in his best friend’s presence. They sat there in companionable silence, neither one saying a thing. They hadn’t had a moment like this since he found out, and Arthur treasured it.
It wasn’t that Arthur didn’t want to tell Merlin. Oh gods, he wanted to scream it at the sky for everyone to hear that Merlin had magic and he needed to be accepted for who he was. He knew his best friend was hurting deeply because of the laws, and he wanted so badly just to be able to talk to Merlin about it, to help him share that pain, but somehow he couldn't do it. He didn’t really know why, but the words never came, and he didn’t think they ever would.
They stayed there for hours, sometimes making a bit of conversation, but mostly they were just content to enjoy the quiet companionship together. Eventually, Arthur made his way to a semi-comfortable lying-down position, and had evidently fallen asleep like that. He woke to a twinge in his back and sunlight coming through the open curtains, but no Merlin. There was some warm porridge on the table that he could smell from his bed. Even though Merlin wasn’t there to greet him like he normally was, Arthur appreciated the gesture and enjoyed his breakfast.
~~~
Somehow, a year passed. Arthur still hadn’t told Merlin that he knew about his magic, but he kept the servant out of trouble as much as he could. Arthur observed many things about Merlin’s magic in that time and, combined with his reading, he knew that Merlin was no ordinary sorcerer.
Arthur had spent so much time in that room that he practically had the entire magical library of Camelot—as small as it was—memorized. Merlin did things that most of the books said were impossible! The more Arthur witnessed, the more he knew Merlin was something special.
Arthur still wanted to tell Merlin he knew, but the time never felt right, so he continued protecting Merlin in secret.
Somewhere along the way, it became undeniable that Gaius knew. Not just because of the wisdom Gaius expended on the subject of magic any time Arthur asked, but because of the man’s pitiful excuses. The tavern? Honestly, what was the man thinking with that? The only time Merlin entered a tavern was for a game of dice and he was allowed to only participate bi-weekly, seeing as how he beat every single person every single time. It was a miracle no one else had managed to glimpse his golden eyes each turn. Nobody would be crazy enough to buy Gaius’ excuses that Merlin spent that much time in the tavern.
Time continued to progress, and Arthur still had his best friend by his side. The two of them went through so much together, lost so much, but still Arthur could not find the courage or moment to tell him that he knew the man’s closest secret.
He’d found that one of the best things about knowing about Merlin was still the dice games. As Arthur took on more responsibility in the kingdom, they had less time to spend on recreation, but whenever they had a chance, the knights would gather for a tournament. Watching new squires freak out over Merlin’s winning streak was even funnier now that he knew the secret behind it. Gwaine still had no clue whatsoever what was going on, but had instead taken to hustling everyone in his own way. All in all, gambling against Merlin and Gwaine would have you screwed , though the knights never learned, no matter how many times the two of them won. Games got absolutely hysterical sometimes.
One thing had changed though; Arthur was more content to stand on the sidelines now, laughing at the hysterics, staying away from actually playing. As much as he wanted to play, it always reminded him of when he found out about Merlin’s magic, and the fact that Merlin still hadn’t chosen to tell him. He could feel a divide there between himself and Merlin whenever he stepped back from a tournament challenge, but it was easy to explain away as not wanting to suffer the losses. Sometimes it was easier to bask in the fun than remember the sadness.
Still, Arthur and Merlin’s relationship had improved over time. Even though Arthur hadn’t told Merlin that he knew, Arthur did his best to stand by his friend no matter what. He listened to Merlin, learning as much as he could about both magic and anything in general that his best friend had to share.
Arthur soaked up every book in the magical room as much as he could. Out of respect to the magical community, he organized and restored the room until it was back to the pristine condition it would have been in before the purge. When he finally finished, he not only felt like he knew exponentially more about magic and his friend, but also that there was a rich and amazing magical culture that he knew he still didn’t know much about; by the gods he wanted to learn, and keep learning. Obviously Merlin wouldn’t know that he knew these things, but when Merlin finally found out that Arthur knew about his gifts, he hoped Merlin would be impressed with how much he’d devoted himself to learning about Merlin’s culture.
Fascinated by the magical way of life and lamenting its outlaw in his kingdom, the prince expanded his secret thirst for knowledge out into the world beyond the castle walls. He sought out many a druid camp whenever he could find an excuse to get Merlin off his tail, and reassured them of his want to help. In turn, he learned bucketloads of information, including the prophecies about him and Merlin.
Learning that his existence had been predicted thousands of years ago was a little unnerving for him at first, but eventually he had talked to so many druids that he had grown comfortable with the title. He made friends with a few clans that migrated around the borders of Camelot but were smart enough to stay hidden. They taught him everything he wanted to know about magic, and eventually he became very well-rounded in his knowledge of magical things, even if he’d discovered that he had no aptitude for magic itself.
He wished he could share it with Merlin, though.
~~~
More time passed and still, Arthur had not told Merlin. He had so much he wanted to talk to Merlin about, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it! His only hope was that Merlin would share his secret first, so that Arthur could be unsurprised and reassuring to him when it happened. The moments of hope that Merlin was about to tell him, though, were getting few and far between, and he was starting to worry that it would never happen. One of these days, it was going to be up to him to make the first move. He just had to figure out how.
~~~
It seemed though, that the right time had finally presented itself as his twenty-fourth birthday rolled around. Arthur had never liked his birthday. He was the prince, so of course he had to pretend like he did, but all he wanted to do was spend some time in the forest relaxing on a hunt and remembering everything Uther had told him about his mother.
Still, he didn’t have that option. Instead, he was forced to endure another excruciating, political-based feast where he certainly didn’t feel like the guest of honor he was supposed to be. But ever since Merlin had moved to Camelot, his birthdays had become significantly more bearable; the servant was always making quiet, snarky jokes that only Arthur could hear about the snooty nobles only attending in order to try and get on his good side.
This year, though, it was even better, because not only had his father found enough strength to attend, but someone had decided to invite jesters. Normally Arthur was none too pleased at the organizers’ choices of entertainment, but this year it was a blessing instead of a curse, because Merlin was absolutely ecstatic about it. It made Arthur’s day so much better just by watching his best friend get so excited about some run-of-the-mill entertainers. By the end of the night, Arthur was in a spectacularly good mood.
Unfortunately, his mood and his princely pride were put to the test as he was called to participate in their final event. Getting daggers thrown at his head was never his ideal choice of entertainment or sport, but he could hardly turn down something like that. As the heir to the throne, it was his duty to be strong and to reassure his people of his capableness. Turning it down in front of the entire court—and then some—would have been an extreme show of weakness, one his father would never forgive.
So he made his way over to the wheel, extremely nervous but doing his best to hide it. At least he had Merlin watching him. He knew that if anything nefarious was going on, Merlin would be able to sense it from a mile away. Hopefully nothing major would happen and he could just go enjoy the rest of his evening after this crazy daredevil stunt was finished.
~~~
So getting drugged and having an attempted attack on his father was not how he’d wanted the evening to go. For once he just wanted an easy night, but that was, of course, not what happened.
~~~
His father was dying. His father was dying and there was nothing he could do about it! He was starting to panic, just as Gaius ran in with Merlin right behind. As he saw the secret sorcerer, Arthur had an idea. If it worked Uther would never forgive him for it, but he had to try. It was the king’s life for crying out loud! He had to do something!
Evidently, trying to convince Merlin to use his magic without making it seem like he was backfired on him majorly, and Merlin instead decided to go find another old sorcerer nobody actually knew. Arthur was a bit skeptical of trusting the man to save the king of Camelot, but against his better judgement, he did his best to trust his friend.
When they got back to Camelot and he saw who was waiting, Arthur just barely held himself back from breaking into hysterical laughter. There was the old sorcerer who saved Gwen’s life a year ago, and who he could also see now was Merlin… but old.
It was all in the eyes that he’d paid such close attention to since he found out. He’d noticed something when he’d met “Dragoon” before, but that was previously, back before he was able to recognize Merlin’s eyes anywhere. There was a rush of gratitude flowing through him that it was Merlin who was going to heal the king, instead of entrusting his father’s life to a stranger.
When his father woke up, fully recovered, Arthur was overjoyed. There had been a moment of dread when Merlin had discovered an enchanted amulet around his neck, but they’d seen it in time and were able to save him.
When the guards did their normal nightly rotation, Arthur was urgently woken to the news that his father had been found dead in his bed, stabbed with his uncle’s blade; his world came crashing down.
~~~
When he exited the throne room the next morning, weary and in so much pain, seeing his best friend asleep on the floor outside brought him increible relief, comfort, and love. He knew that, though it began with the death of his father, his time as king could begin a new age of understanding and peace for Merlin and his people, and that was what he was going to do.
~~~
Arthur had a lot of work to do if he was going to begin the transition of letting magic back into Camelot. If he didn’t do it right, he was at risk of being accused of being under an enchantment or not fully in his right mind, so he had to take it slow. That meant a lot of private meetings and talking to the Ultimate Uther Alliance, who unfortunately had been selected by hand by his father and who he couldn’t kick off the council right away for fear of upsetting the balance any more than he already had with his coronation.
The biggest challenge with making the change, though, was that he wanted it to be a surprise for Merlin. The man deserved everything Arthur was planning, but Arthur was terrified that Merlin would be so afraid of the king knowing about his magic that he wouldn’t want to help. He knew it was silly, but Merlin had kept it a secret for so long. Who knew what his reaction would be? Arthur didn’t want to take any risks that might put the repeals in jeopardy.
So Arthur took the lead alone. Gaius did his best to help, but he didn’t yet want anyone else to know of his previous experience with magic, so he was of much more use as an advisor to Arthur than someone to help convince the council. Arthur could have really used Gaius’ help since everyone seemed to trust him so much, but he respected the man’s decision and desire for privacy.
Thankfully, a lot of the younger generation was on his side. He’d thought that it would have been the other way around, what with the elders having actually been alive before the purge and the knights having grown up with magic-hating ideals thrown in their faces, but it turned out that his assumptions were wrong. Of course, they still had taken some convincing and a few visits to the druids, but the entire round table was in full support of the return of magic by the time he was done. With their support, the council was more easily swayed, and a magic-filled future seemed to be on the horizon.
~~~
By the time he had been king for three months, he was ready to make the final announcement to the people on how he would begin the process of slowly legalizing magic once more.
His plan was to take it slow, starting by reducing the punishments for people with magic. He’d already made the first small pieces of the transition, but he’d done it while Merlin had been sent away to see his mother any time he wanted to make a change, so he had no idea what was going on. The people probably had some inkling that there was something going on, what with all the reductions in laws against magic, but that was a good thing, since he didn’t want to surprise them and possibly cause a revolt in the worst case scenario. Hopefully everyone had at least a bit of an idea that something was happening, and wouldn't be as shocked as they might have been otherwise.
Now, though, Merlin was back from his most recent visit to his mother and was unaware that Arthur had slowly begun to repeal the laws. It was the day Arthur was going to officially announce Camelot’s new stance on magic, and he was a little nervous about what Merlin was going to think. As time had gone by, he had started to doubt that keeping the whole thing from him was a good idea, but it was too late now. Merlin would just have to find out during the speech. Arthur wished he’d be able to see his servant’s face.
As Merlin got him ready for the big announcement, Arthur could tell the man was curious about what the subject was. Merlin didn’t push, though, which Arthur thought was a little strange, but didn’t comment on, since he didn’t actually want Merlin to know the answer.
Once Arthur was dressed in his most kingly attire—crown, cape, and all—they made their way to what had been dubbed by many as the “decree balcony.” If Merlin was surprised by the large number of people out there, he didn’t show it. Arthur had asked the entire council to stand there in support of the repeal, and he had strategically placed all of Camelot’s knights down in the courtyard, mostly as a show of support, but also with a secondary mission to try to calm the crowd if anyone was to firmly object to the announcement, which, loathe as he was to admit it, was a situation that needed to be planned for.
Arthur took a deep breath and stepped forward, Merlin just out of his sight. It was unfortunate but necessary to properly address the people. This wasn’t all about Merlin, even if he’d been the main catalyst for the change.
He took a breath, and began.
“People of Camelot. The death of my father has been one that has affected the kingdom greatly, and I am aware of the struggle to find the right balance between the ideals of my father and my own, which I have slowly begun to implement since my coronation. I am sure you are all aware of the changes that have been taking place within Camelot over these last few months, and many of you have most likely already figured out what these changes are leading us towards.
“Magic and the sheer opposition of it was a very large part in my father’s governance of this kingdom for the past twenty-three years, but Camelot has not always had these same thoughts. In all the years before Queen Ygraine’s passing, magic was accepted and welcomed with open arms. My father himself even encouraged its use until it hurt him and he needed someone — some thing — to blame.
“A long time ago, I learned that Queen Ygraine’s death was not caused by magic. It was involved, yes, but magic requires a balance; one that my father was not willing to pay the price of.
“To tell any more would be to betray the memory of our late king, but it should be known that while I love my father, he was wrong about magic, and countless lives have been lost because of it. I know many of you have grown up seeing only the evils of magic, but that is only because those with magi saw us as evil for hurting them.”
The crowd had been relatively silent up until this point, but the mention of the late queen’s death threw them. People started shouting and the guards had to step in a moment to break up a scuffle and calm them down before Arthur could continue.
“I know this is probably a lot to understand. It’s a big change, which is why I have been and will continue to take the reintroduction of magic back into Camelot seriously. In my first few weeks as king, I lessened all penalties relating to non-deadly incidents. What many of you may not have realized was that this included all non-deadly magical incidents as well. Though since we have not had any reports of magical usage since that time, I wanted to make it clear to you that that was my intention behind the law. It is no longer necessary to be secretive about this movement any longer, as we are taking a large step forward today.
“This was all spurred on by my awareness of a close advisor of mine having magic, and being too scared to be himself to anyone but a very select few for fear of being killed for a trait he’s had since birth. I am not comfortable revealing his identity right now, but as you settle in to the knowledge of magic, I intend to announce his new position in the near future, in hopes that he will be ready to show this side of himself and help guide you in your understanding that magic is a neutral force, and that if allowed to do good, good will prevail.
“There is no need to rush into this. Even with this announcement, I still intend to take this process slowly. We will begin by allowing a few select druids to trade with us, so that they may use some of our craftsmanship, and us theirs. I encourage each and every one of you to have a calm, polite discussion with them about their traditions and beliefs. They will not be allowed to use magic while in this city, but there will be no penalty if you find yourself curious enough and decide to buy a small magical artifact. It is encouraged. Messengers have already been sent to the rest of the kingdom to inform them of the change.
“These druids are risking a lot to be here and help me create peace between magic and the people of Camelot. Do not put this treaty at risk. I do hope we can begin anew together. Thank you.”
As Arthur exited the balcony, he could feel Merlin’s confusion in the air and decided to go straight back to his chambers so that they could talk privately. He entered first and immediately took off his crown as he sat down at the table, trying to look as unimposing as possible.
Merlin came in behind him and shut the door heavily, leaning his back against it for support as he took in all the information.
“You’re repealing the ban on magic.”
Arthur let out a small, breathy laugh at his statement of the obvious. “The first part of it, anyway. I have many more plans.”
“But… why? I thought you thought magic was evil, just like Uther did.”
He looked incredibly confused, and Arthur felt bad for not letting him know earlier. He prodded Merlin to come sit at the table with him. It took the idiot a moment, but he finally pushed off the door and moved to the table. Once he was fully seated and had stopped oddly twitching from nerves, Arthur continued.
“Well, as I said in my speech, I haven’t agreed with my father for a while. I’ve just never really felt able to tell anyone about it. But something happened and I got a lot more confident about my idea that magic wasn’t all bad.”
“What happened?”
“I found out you had magic, and I knew I was on the right path. I stopped denying it and started learning.”
“I—” Merlin was clearly struggling to process, so Arthur continued explaining.
“You were the one I was talking about in my speech, Merlin. I found out you had magic and I was so confused. Everything I’d known about it was wrong. But I realized that I hadn’t known enough about it to actually make an opinion, and so I went and talked to Gaius. I knew I should probably tell you that I knew, but it needed to process first. I knew Gaius was an expert on magical things, and I asked him his honest opinions on it.
“I don’t think he realized I knew about you, but he knew something was up, and he pointed me to a secret room in the library where there were books upon books of magic, and I started reading. I’ve read every book cover to cover multiple times now, but I know there’s so much more for me to learn about it. If people had known these things before, they would have understood that the purge was wrong.
“I wanted to learn from you, Merlin, for so long. But I didn’t know how to tell you! I chickened out of it so many times and the longer I waited, the more I hoped that you would come out and tell me yourself, but I understand why you didn’t. I get it. I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to share this with you, and now I can.
“It’s my hope that you could not only help me learn about magic, but that you can also help the people of Camelot learn that it’s good. Merlin, I want you to be my court sorcerer.”
Arthur finished, and he realized that he was incredibly out of breath. When he was little, he used to ramble all the time, but with the insistence of his father that had been knocked out of him years and years ago. He hadn’t rambled that badly in a very long time, and he could tell it had not been the right time for it.
Merlin was staring at him uncomprehensively, his brain not being able to process the overload of information from Arthur.
“Wait, what? You know I have… magic? ”
He was still stuck on that. Of course he was. Merlin probably hadn’t heard anything he’d just said. And that was okay. Arthur had plenty of time to work everything out with him. He expected nothing less from his wonderful idiot manservant.
“Yes, I do, Merlin.”
Merlin’s jaw dropped.
“But how? How did you find out?”
He was so confused, but Arthur just laughed. “Honestly, Merlin! Nobody is that good at dice!"