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Arthur sat at the table, watching its unmoving wooden surface, and tried to figure out what the hell to do with his ridiculous servant. A quiet knock came at the door.
“Come in.”
He didn’t move. Any of the guards or knights would knock harder to be sure they were heard, never timid. Even Morgana wouldn't be that cautious, gentle even. Most often, she would just barge in, like Merlin. Gwen, or one of the other servants... Now, though, Arthur wasn’t sure Merlin would barge in, because obviously their trust had been breached. The door opened and no one spoke for a moment- Merlin, then. With a sigh, Arthur straightened up, stretching his shoulders as he did so without daring to look in Merlin's direction.
“Close the door.”
Merlin closed the door and his quiet footsteps came over beside Arthur. His shoes were still filthy from the trip, Arthur saw from a quick glance down in his direction, and Arthur refused to consider what kind of filth Merlin was tracking all over his floor. For once in his irreverent life Merlin was being silent and it was incredibly disconcerting. Restlessly, Arthur let his eyes dart away and then back, just touching on Merlin's arms long enough to see him tuck them behind his back, polite and restrained as if this were the courtroom. Arthur wasn’t going to be the one to start this- Merlin should have said something ages ago, and hearing something so huge from Gwaine, of all people, still stung.
“Arthur, I answer to you.”
Arthur's mouth tightened. They'd been talking about this two days ago, a lifetime before now. Some druids followed some kind of code, but otherwise, it seemed those with magic answered to no one. There was no safety to be had when one person upheld the crown and rule of law, while another disdained both. Merlin had been opinionated, condemning those who acted violently as exceptions, rather than examples of how magic users generally behaved. At the time, Arthur had ended the conversation on some dismissive note about Merlin not knowing what he was talking about, but now, he could see why Merlin felt so strongly about the subject. According to Gwaine, who'd hung back with Merlin when Arthur hurried home from patrol to report to his father, they’d been skirting around a fallen tree and run into a horde of wasps. The horses, despite their training, had panicked, nearly bucking off their riders entirely in their haste to get away from the stinging insects. Gwaine had been a bit of a mess himself, telling the story, but Arthur had finally extracted the reason for his visit: Merlin, eyes glowing and reciting some kind of ancient language, had calmed the horses and sent the wasps away. Gwaine had confessed that he nearly hadn't told Arthur at all, but thought the prince should know that the servant had magic. The poor knight was nearly frantic when he realized he'd effectively turned Merlin in for a death sentence; apparently the warlock had healed Gwaine of an aching leg injury on the way back, after he was discovered. Arthur wanted to reassure Gwaine that he cared for Merlin as much as anyone, that he wouldn't to anything to hurt the servant they all knew and loved so well, but apparently none of them knew Merlin as well as they thought they had. Standing there now, Merlin looked small and innocent and completely unlike magic.
“No you don’t,” he finally replied, the words coming out a little harsher than he necessarily meant them to. He saw Merlin cringe at the words, but some terrible part of Arthur felt that it was only right for Merlin to understand this discomfort. “If you answered to me, you would have to tell me.” Merlin said nothing, his head bowed. After what must have been at least 5 minutes, Arthur sighed, fussing at the edge of his tunic rather than continuing to stare at his wayward manservant. “You know, Merlin,” he added pensively, “I don't know what to think. You've been almost like a friend to me, but now I find out you weren’t even honest. You wouldn’t have the slightest idea what it meant to answer to someone. It’s one of the things-” Arthur cut himself off abruptly before he could say “It’s one of the things I love about you.” Instead, he finished “It's one of the reasons you're such a terrible servant.”
Merlin's mouth quirked upward for a brief moment, catching Arthur's eye, and suddenly it was like an overwhelming physical need for Arthur to see him smile that big, goofy smile again. Arthur pushed down the feeling viciously as Merlin spoke, his voice was low and quiet.
“What do you want from me, Arthur?” Arthur shivered slightly at hearing his name like that, almost desperate. “You’re right, I should have told you. I should have let your father execute me, left you and Gaius and Gwen behind. I should have left you to die the next time someone with magic came to Camelot, seeking revenge. Is that what you want to hear?”
Arthur looked up, his eyes drawn irresistibly toward Merlin's. When he reached them, he was suddenly struck with the feeling that he should have figured this out long, long ago. Merlin's eyes were such a cold, vivid blue, and the air around him seemed to crackle with energy. Of course he had magic. Of course he wasn't simply a manservant- he had never had the slightest skill in it, anyhow. The real question was what else he hadn't said.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Merlin asked. He seemed caught between confusion and anger, and Arthur sighed.
“Yes, Merlin, okay. What do you want me to say? Having you pledge your fealty here, in my bedroom with the curtains a witness would hardly mean anything. It's not like I'm going to lift the ban on magic now, after dozens of attempts on my life in the last year alone. If you want me to believe that you've been protecting me, that you somehow use your magic for good, despite all the evil I've people do with it... well... okay.”
As Arthur spoke, he watched Merlin gradually relax out of rage and into incredulity.
“And that's it. You're just... fine with that?”
Arthur shrugged, turning back to the table and pulling a plate with scraps of cheese and bread toward himself. “Would you rather I do something else?”
“No,” Merlin replied immediately. “Just, I just...”
“Merlin,” Arthur interrupted after a moment, brushing himself off and breezing by to head toward his table. “Gwaine clearly trusts you, and you can't tell me Gaius doesn't know. No-” he added, holding a finger up in Merlin's direction without looking at Merlin's quick inhale. “Don't tell me. I could ask you about all the times you've used magic in Camelot, but seeing as I'm not planning on doing anything about it, when it comes to you, I don't see what the point would be.”
Merlin was quiet for a long moment, and Arthur couldn't stop himself from looking. The servant was staring at the ground, chewing on his lip.
“I tripped you in that first fight, you know,” he informed Arthur suddenly. Arthur swiped a small piece of seeded bread and ate it, surprisingly unsurprised. There had always been something odd about that fight- he just wasn’t that clumsy.
“Okay.”
Merlin scratched his face and took a step closer.
“I cast the spell that killed the griffin.”
Arthur nodded, contemplating this. He'd really have to put more stock into Gaius' ramblings about what did and didn't need to be killed with magic. Besides, it was comforting to know that Lance really, probably didn't have any enchanted items or anything.
"Yes, thanks for that.”
He took a piece of mild cheese as Merlin laughed, surprised. When Arthur looked over, Merlin looked almost manic.
“What are you going to do?” the warlock asked.
Arthur chewed for a moment, thinking. That was the question, after all.
"I can't let you leave. Having you wander about Camelot is about the worst thing we could do.”
Merlin blinked, replying “Leave?”
Arthur ignored him, spearing another piece of cheese with his fork. “We may as well keep it a secret for now, though it might be best if we tell the round table. Gwaine isn't particularly adept at keeping a secret and-” he spared a look for Merlin's lanky figure gaping open-mouthed beside him “it's a miracle you haven't told them all by now anyway.” Merlin shuffled a little bit.
“Er, well,” he muttered. Arthur sighed, resisting the urge to put his head in his hands.
“What is it now, Merlin?”
“Um,” Merlin began again, not quite coherent yet, “Lancelot might know.”
Arthur's eyebrows inched up. “Lancelot might know,” he repeated slowly. “And Gwaine knows.”
“Yes,” Merlin replied miserably.
“Anyone else I should know about?” Arthur asked as sweetly as he could muster.
“Well,” Merlin mumbled, shuffling his feet again. Arthur chanced a glance at his face, and saw that Merlin's eyes were fixed on the ground between them. “Gwen might know. And Morgana, of course, and Gaius. Daisy might have found out; I'm not sure... and-” he looked up. “A few people, anyway.” Arthur did his best to fight off the creeping suspicion that he was just oblivious.
“Ah,” he replied lightly. “Well then, good to know my father's policies are held in such high regard in my own keep.”
“No!” Merlin replied quickly, waving his hands about. “It's just... well, Lance needed help with the- and Gaius, well I couldn't help it because he was falling, but really I could have just, I mean...”
Arthur shook his head. “Merlin, it's fine. Look. Sit down before you hurt yourself.” He pushed out a chair and Merlin, looking slightly miserable, dropped into it. Arthur wasn't even sure Merlin noticed that he was eating Arthur's bread and cheese when he sat, but he let it happen. “I'll figure something out. If there's anyone else, you should probably tell me. In the meantime, though...”
Merlin looked up, his eyes wide and expression innocent.
“Just,” Arthur began again, trying to keep the throb of his pulse at some kind of even rhythm. “Don't draw too much attention, okay?”
Merlin smiled. First it was a small thing, uncertain, but Merlin didn't stay uncertain about things for long. Arthur could see that now, in the face of Merlin’s wild grin, and it looked, thankfully, like Merlin was certain about him.
“Okay.”
Of course, Arthur thought, that probably won't happen. Merlin liked to get himself in all kinds of trouble. The thought occurred fondly, though. Arthur liked to get into trouble himself, after all, and now that they could both protect each other, nothing too bad was likely to come of it.