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Chapter Text

Merlin’s feet hit the ground with speed he didn’t know he was capable of. The trees shake with it, his chest falling fast and heavy. He looks behind him and stumbles when he sees the dozens of men with swords catching up. Arthur grabs at his arm, dragging him along after him. Merlin directs Arthur towards some rocks that could give them shelter and they duck behind one of the boulders quickly.

An arrow grazes Merlin’s cheek. His eyes go wide and he pushes forward.

“The caves,” Merlin pants. “Maybe we could hide,” 

Arthur nods and looks back. “Quick, they’re gaining on us.”

Arthur dodges an arrow that could have killed him in an instant and Merlin falls, scrambling to his feet quickly and looking back. His eyes light up and one of the men with a bow and arrow aimed at Arthur goes flying backwards. Another man catches up though, swiping his sword, and Arthur falls. Merlin grabs a stick and swings it at the attacker, getting him in the head. He falls but the rest of the men behind him are still running, angry and violent.

“Fuck,” Arthur says. He’s on his knees. Merlin grabs at his shoulder, frantically trying to pull him back up. “My leg,” Arthur says through gritted teeth. “Can’t get up,”

“You have to,” Merlin says, panicking. They don’t have time. “Come on, this way,” He loops one of Arthur’s arms over his shoulders and hauls him up. 

Together, they reach the mouth of the cave and are plunged into darkness. They turn a corner, and another one, until they’re in a winding tunnel, their footsteps echoing and the only light comes from an odd glowing crystal here and there. They go for as long as they can, the footsteps of the men behind them receding, probably gone down a different tunnel in the cave. 

“Merlin,” Arthur says and Merlin readjusts his grip on the prince.

“C’mon, just a little longer,” Merlin mutters.

“We don’t even know where we’re going,” Arthur says. “We have to wait them out, I can’t walk.” Arthur pulls Merlin as much as he can towards the wall of the cave, his breathing ragged.

“Okay, let’s sit down.” Merlin agrees. “Five minutes, then we keep moving.”

Arthur nods and Merlin helps him sit down. He uses the light of the crystals to look at Arthur’s wound. He’ll have to get Gaius to look at it when they get back, but aside from being unable to walk, it doesn’t look too serious. It’s bleeding though, probably leaving a trail right to them. There’s an uneasiness in Merlin’s gut. A feeling of dread that he’s been unable to escape since they left the castle this morning. But he swallows it down and reaches behind his neck to untie his neckerchief.

He ties the neckerchief around Arthur’s leg, hoping the pressure is enough to stop the bleeding at least a little, until they can get back to the castle. He crouches beside Arthur, allowing himself to catch his breath as well.

“We’re gonna get out of here,” Merlin says quietly and with determination. “I’ll make sure of it,”

Arthur doesn’t answer, only closes his eyes and takes some deep breaths. Only a minute or so has passed when voices echo down the tunnel and heavy footsteps. Arthur’s eyes shoot open and he tries to push himself up. Merlin helps, but Arthur stumbles and Merlin switches his grip. He pulls Arthur to his chest, looping his arms under Arthur’s and dragging him backwards away from the light of the crystals. 

The footsteps get louder and there’s no way they’ll get away fast enough. 

“We have to hide,” Arthur mumbles and Merlin nods, dragging them both behind a rock where it’s dark enough to conceal them at least for a little while.

Merlin is sitting with his back to the rock, and he pulls Arthur after him until Arthur leaning back against his chest.

“What a stupid way to die,” Arthur laughs and Merlin shakes his head.

“We’re not going to die,” He says. And they very well might, but Merlin refuses to consider that an option. They very well could die, but Merlin is a warlock and he’d rather Arthur hate him than be dead. So no, they are not going to die. But Merlin’s heart is pounding violently in his chest anyway and he’s holding onto Arthur like his life depends on it.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispers. “We’re not getting out of here,”

“Yes, we are,”

“Well then in case we don’t.” Arthur says. “In case we don’t… I want to tell you that I appreciate… everything you’ve done for me. Your loyalty. You’re friendship. I’ve never had a servant like you,”

“Sure hope not,” Merlin jokes. “I’m a terrible servant,”

“You really are,” Arthur chuckles. “But you’re more than a servant.”

“Arthur,” Merlin swallows hard and shakes his head.

“You’re one of the kindest, bravest, most true men I know.”

“I’m not,” Merlin whispers. “I’m not true. I’m not…”

“I know there are things we don’t discuss because I’m king. But I know you, Merlin. You’re my most trusted friend.”

Merlin’s eyes burn and there’s a lump in his throat. He lets out a breath and closes his eyes, his chin pressing into Arthur’s hair. “You are a good man, Arthur. Compassionate and loyal and strong. I would serve no one else,” 

“Good,” Arthur whispers.

“And there’s no one I would rather die beside,” 

“Me as well.”

“But we aren’t going to die.”

“Merlin,” Arthur sighs and Merlin shakes his head. Arthur can feel the movement, he reaches up to hold onto Merlin’s arms which are wrapped around his chest. “Merlin, it’s okay,” Merlin let’s Arthur entwine their fingers, Arthur looks up at him, his eyes are wet as well, but his gaze is strong and calm.

“We’re not going to die, Arthur,” Merlin says again, quietly and with such certainty that hesitance flashes in Arthur's eyes. “And I don’t want you to think of me any different after this, okay?” 

“Of course,” Arthur says quickly, he squeezes Merlin’s hand. “What is it?” 

“Just promise me,” Merlin whispers. “Promise that even if you hate me… ” Merlin doesn’t finish the sentence. He can’t possibly ask anything of Arthur. Not when anger or mistrust would be deserved. Merlin could not expect Arthur to simply forgive him. He would take any punishment Artie deemed worthy. Arthur seems to sense that Merlin isn't going to elaborate and his squeezed Merlin's arm. 

“I could never hate you,” Arthur says. Merlin doesn’t respond.

The footsteps are near them now, Merlin can see the glow of a torch approaching. He can hear the orders to fan out and search every crevice. Merlin squeezes his eyes shut and draws in a deep breath, he holds Arthur tightly and Arthur holds back.  One of the men rounds the corner, sees them, and calls out to the others. He draws his sword, an evil grin growing on his face. Merlin looks up at him, and even from the ground, desperately clinging to Arthur,!Merlin is powerful.He speaks aloud a spell, his voice rough with determination. His eyes go gold and there’s a look of fear on the man’s face as he and all of the other men in the cave are flung back against the walls with a sickening crack. Arthur is still gripping Merlin’s hand, but he’s tense now, confused. Maybe afraid.

There’s a strange disconnect after such a pivotal moment. Merlin knows, logically, that everything will change now. That he doesn’t know which direction this could take, and there are many directions. He doesn’t have a clue how Arthur will react, if he’ll still have a home in Camelot. If he’ll still have a life. Merlin knows he’s just killed a dozen men with sorcery right in front of the King of Camelot. Right in front of Arthur. But he feels numb. The air vibrates around him with energy that’s still unsure of where to go. He’s afraid to move. Arthur seems frozen as well.

Any movement would disturb this moment but as long as they remain still, this moment won’t come to pass. They won’t have to be angry or hurt and scared. But Merlin swallows hard and the stillness is broken and he feels Arthur’s sharp intake of breath.

He’s not moving from Merlin’s arms, but he’s certainly panicking. Merlin tries to look at him, but then Arthur does move. He’s letting go of Merlin’s hands, gasping for breath pushing himself up.

“Arthur,” Merlin says desperately, but Arthur shakes his head and clutches at his chest. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” Arthur says.

“Warlock,” Merlin corrects weakly. 

“Fuck, Merlin. Why?” He asks. Merlin grapples for an answer. 

“It’s only for you, Arthur.”

“Why are you here? Why are you serving me?”

“It’s my destiny. Everything I said was true, there is no other king I’d rather serve than you.”

“Magic is outlawed in Camelot!”

“I know,”

Arthur struggles to stand, using the rocks beside him as leverage, somehow he steadies himself.  Merlin stands too, but allows Arthur the space he obviously is seeking. 

“I can’t- I can’t let you… you lied to me. The whole time we knew each other, you were lying to me?”

“I had to, you have to understand, I didn’t want you to have to choose between me and your laws or your father.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything, he keeps his eyes closed tightly, rakes a hand through his hair and shakes his head again, disbelieving. Of course. Even in betrayal Merlin was thoughtful and selfless. 

“You’re the one person I trusted above anyone,” Arthur says, his voice low and wild. His eyes are frantic but at least “And you’ve been lying about who you are the whole time.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Merlin tries to step towards him and Arthur steps back. 

What was Merlin supposed to do? Trust him? Trust the son of the man who slaughtered his people? Arthur couldn’t blame Merlin for that, even if it hurts him. Even if it makes him angry. 

“You knew I considered you a friend.” Arthur says, Merlin winces at the past tense. “You didn't trust me and I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“I may have been keeping secrets, but I have always been loyal to you. I trust you, Arthur. With my life.”

“And if I were to execute you?”

“I would not fight.”

“Fuck, Merlin. No. That’s…” Arthur tries to walk, immediately stumbling and Merlin rushes to help him, to hold him up. Arthur tries to pull away first, but then gives in. 

“We have to get back to Gaius,” 

“Does he know about this?” Arthur asks. “That you’re…”

“Magic?”

“Yeah. That.” Arthur swallows. “He knows doesn’t he?”

Merlin can’t answer, unwilling to lie again, but also unwilling to turn in Gaius for harboring a warlock. Merlin’s silence is answer enough.

“Get me out of here,” Arthur sighs.

Merlin helps him and they stumble back the way they came, back towards the forest and Camelot. Once daylight begins to filter into the cave, Merlin sighs in relief. They still have an hour-long journey to Camelot on foot, their horses had run away at first sign of danger and Merlin doesn’t know how he’ll carry an injured Arthur all the way back to Camelot on his own.

He sets Arthur down outside the cave, takes a breath and then goes back to help him up again, but Arthur shakes his head. He tugs Merlin to the ground with him and sits there, like he’s waiting for himself to say something.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks.

“You have magic.” 

“Yes,” Merlin says. 

Arthur nods.

“I use it for you, Arthur. That’s it,”

“Do you use it to do your chores?”

“… sometimes.”

Arthur chuckles, but it’s still disbelieving. Still hurt. But it’s not anger or hatred or fear and Merlin relaxes, only a little, and smiles back. Arthur taps his injured leg, blood soaking through both his pants and Merlin’s makeshift bandage.

“Could you use magic to heal this?”

“I’m not the best at healing magic,” Merlin admits. “I could try, but it would only close the wound, maybe help with the pain.”

“Do it,”

“Are you sure, sire?” Merlin asks, Arthur rolls his eyes at the honorific and he nods his head.

“I’m sure, heal me,”

Merlin reaches out, one hand over the wound, and he recalls a spell, whispering the words. His eyes flash gold and Arthur watches intently with an expression that Merlin can’t quite decipher. Arthur’s skin knits itself back together, somewhat, and Arthur sighs in relief.

“Better?”

“Yes,” Arthur hands the neckerchief back to Merlin and inspects the wound through the torn whole in his pants. The wound is still red and angry. It will definitely scar, but it is healing. “We need to move.” He stands up, unsteady at first, and Merlin offers a hand. Arthur ignores the hand but steadies himself on Merlin’s shoulder.

They walk for a while, mostly in silence, and stopping only a few times for rest and to drink from a river. Eventually, the silence becomes tense and Merlin, too afraid to break it, resigns himself to this awful fate where Arthur never speaks to him again.

Of course, Arthur does speak to him again, only five minutes later.

“Warlocks are born with their magic.” He says. Merlin nods, a bit surprised at Arthur’s knowledge of magic. “So why would you come to Camelot?”

“My mother was afraid for my safety in Ealdor. Someone had found out. She wanted me to learn to control it,”

“So she sent you to Gaius,” Arthur sighs. He’s putting together pieces. It’s terrifying to be known after hiding for so long. Merlin nods. “Will. Your friend in Ealdor. He wasn’t the sorcerer.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“What else have I missed?” Arthur asks. Merlin shrugs and looks down at his feet as he walks. 

“Balinor,” he says hesitantly. “He was my father,”

“Oh,” Arthur says, surprised. He goes quiet for a minute, thinking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

Merlin only shrugs, his lips curling into a sad smile. The silence continues a few minutes more. 

“Does that mean you’re a dragon lord?” Arthur asks. Merlin looks at Arthur and nods and Arthur doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that. 

Eventually the castle comes into view. Merlin swallows his anxiety and follows Arthur.

“Sire?” He speaks up. Arthur looks at him. “What will you do?” Merlin asks, and it’s obvious what he’s referring to.

“Nothing, Merlin. You will report to my chambers in the morning like you always do and you will not speak a word of this to anyone until it’s safe for you to do so.”

“Yes, Sire.” He nods. Then, hesitantly, “What d’you mean by until it’s safe ?”

“Well, I can’t have a warlock for a manservant with laws against magic,” Arthur grumbles. “It’s not as if I haven’t already drafted the repeal of the ban on magic already, I’ll just have to make it more of a priority.”

“You’re making magic legal?” Merlin stops walking, eyes wide and confused. Arthur looks back at him, face carefully controlled. He takes in Merlin, his eyebrows furrowed in hope and anxiety. This man has been by his side for years. Arthur finds that even after what feels like betrayal, Merlin is still his most trusted friend. He’s not sure how he feels about that.

“Yes, Merlin. That’s what I said,”

It takes a minute to sink in, but once it does, Merlin feels tears spring to his eyes once more and Arthur looks away. Still angry at himself for not being a safe space for Merlin. Still angry at Merlin for keeping secrets. For not trusting him. Still angry at himself for not realizing earlier. For not seeing it.

How could he call himself Merlin’s friend if he didn’t realize Merlin was hiding himself this whole time? How could he call them friends when there was this divide, something so important. Something that clearly meant something to Merlin. And Arthur was utterly clueless their entire friendship. 

Arthur had thought long and hard about the repeal of the ban. It had crossed his mind multiple times during his father’s rule. He had always hated the executions of innocent people. He had always disagreed with his father. But it was incredibly difficult to ignore years of being told that magic was evil. Of seeing magic attack his family and his kingdom. Arthur knew he had to repeal the ban, he believed in the goodness of magic. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still scared. 

Merlin sniffs and looks at Arthur, his smile wobbling and awed. He wipes his eyes and looks away, trying to blink away the tears and Arthur wants to reach out to him, but he doesn't, trying to force himself to keep his calm resolve. 

“It’s not just for you, idiot. It’s what’s right. I’ve been planning it for weeks,”

Merlin nods and wipes his nose, still smiling and tearful. Arthur rolls his eyes, not unkindly, and he steps towards Merlin, still limping slightly from walking so long on an injured leg. He pulls Merlin towards him with a hand on the back of his head and Merlin comes easily, face burying into Arthur’s shoulder and arms wrapping around his middle. Arthur hugs back, his hand sliding from the back of Merlin’s neck into his hair and his other hand on Merlin’s back. 

They’ve hugged so few times. The exception being when they’re dying. When one of them has nearly died, just barely scraping by, but even then, their affection is typically restricted to pats on the back or a squeeze of a shoulder, maybe a friendly shove. Merlin has grown accustomed to accepting the mediocre forms of physical affection, but now, sinking into Arthur’s arms, feeling Arthur holding him right back. It’s comforting. Arthur’s hand curls around his head, holding him closer, like this is something he needs as much as Merlin. 

After a few moments, perhaps a few moments too long, Merlin pulls away. He wipes at his eyes, which are red and puffy. Arthur grins and reaches out to ruffle Merlin’s hair, pushing it away from his face.

“Just give me a week. Okay? One more week.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” Merlin says quietly. “Really, you have no idea-”

“Shut up . Will you?” Arthur grins. He wraps an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and together they walk towards the castle. “Should I still see Gaius for my leg?”

“It would be a good idea. I’ve healed it for the most part, but Gaius could get you something for the scar and for the pain.”

So they go to Gaius’ chambers where Gaius is mixing solutions at his work bench. Merlin clears a stool for Arthur to sit on.

“You’re back,” Gaius greets them. “What happened?”

“We were attacked and Arthur’s leg was injured. I healed it the best I could…”

“You healed him?” Gaius looks at Merlin, eyebrow arched. 

“I asked him to,” Arthur cuts in. 

“He knows.” Merlin says stoically. “About my magic. I didn’t have another choice,”

“Sire?” Gaius turns to Arthur. Trying to gauge the king’s feelings on the matter.

“Merlin is my manservant. Magic or not, he has always been the first to believe in me.” Arthur shrugs. “Without him, we’d have been dead right now.”

Merlin beams in pride and Arthur realizes that this is the first time he’s gotten recognition for his successes. How many times has Merlin saved him? Saved Camelot? And to think Arthur ever thought magic was an enemy to Camelot. He makes a mental note to give Merlin more credit, especially if it means Merlin will smile like that again. 

Gaius smooths some sort of cream over the red scar on his leg and he hands a small jar of liquid for the pain. Arthur downs it and hands it back, thankful.

“I should be off then. I have a meeting tomorrow morning,” Arthur says. “Thank you again, Gaius. And Merlin, don’t be late. This meeting is important, I need to be on time,” He gives Merlin a pointed look and Merlin nods, grinning.

“Of course, Sire.”

Chapter Text

The next few days pass like normal. Merlin tends to Arthur. He cleans his armor, polishes his shoes, makes his bed. Everything is as it was before and Merlin is satisfied with that. As much as he anticipates freedom, he does not know what freedom tastes like. He’s been deprived of it all his life. Hiding, waiting, hoping, fearing. Merlin has lived with this fear of his own magic, his own being, since he knew what it meant. He’s not sure how to transition from hiding his magic to being free with it. The only person he had felt free with was Lancelot, and it’s hard to imagine feeling that with anyone else, even if logically, he knows it is plausible.

The knights respect Merlin, and they respect Arthur. They wouldn’t turn on him for his magic. Neither would Gwen. Still, Merlin is unable to imagine a world where he is not in hiding. 

The day before Arthur’s speech, he asks Merlin to show him his magic. They’re outside by the training fields. Training is long since over and they’re the only ones there but Merlin still feels out of place performing magic so out in the open like this. 

He whispers an incantation and in his palm a small dragon made of fire and sparks rises from nothing. When Merlin looks at Arthur, Arthur is only just tearing his eyes away from Merlin’s to look at the dragon. Merlin wonders if Arthur hates the gold in his eyes. If it scares him. He seems more in awe than in fear though and Merlin grins. 

“Wow.” Arthur says. 

“Is it strange? Seeing me do magic?”

Arthur shrugs. “I’m not quite used to it.” He admits. “But somehow it looks natural on you. Like it should look so wrong seeing you doing magic . But now that I’ve seen it… it fits, I guess.”

“Is that a good thing?” Merlin asks. Arthur looks at him a moment longer.

“It’s not a bad thing,” He says. “The gold looks good on you. I’m still getting used to it.”

Merlin feels jittery with anticipation the day that Arthur makes his speech. It’s a cold and cloudy morning, but by afternoon the day is warm and sunny.

The speech is beautiful and Merlin has tears down his cheeks as he watches Arthur, who’s looking back at him. Arthur looks back to his people, some of them look scared, but most of them remember when magic flourished in Camelot, before the purge. There is some celebration, gasps of surprise, joyful displays of magic that makes Arthur grin. Finally, his people are free. His father was wrong, but he’s mending this broken trust. He’s fixing the laws. He’s doing his best to repair the damage. 

Merlin is smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, but it’s not quite sinking in that he’s free . Gwen puts a hand on his shoulder, concerned and confused and Merlin sniffs. She holds onto his arm in comfort and Merlin looks at her, hoping his expression shows his thanks.

“Are you alright?” She asks, confused.

Merlin swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “I’ve never been better.”

“I didn’t think you would be so passionate about this,.” She says, with a confused chuckle. Merlin only shrugs, but then realization dawns and surprise floods her features as she puts together the pieces. “ Oh! ” 

Merlin nods and uses his free hand to wipe his eyes and his cheeks hastily. Gwen lets go of his arm and wraps him in a hug. Merlin is caught off guard by the immediate show of kindness and support. He hugs back and laughs into her shoulder, although it comes out more like a sob. She doesn’t know the whole story. Or any of the story, really. But she knows enough for now and she cares for him anyway. She lets him go and smiles at him kindly, bumping their shoulders together.

“You’re free then,” She says and Merlin nods.

“You’re not angry?” He asks. “That I’ve been keeping secrets?”

“I could never have expected you to share this with me while it was punishable by death.” She says. Merlin smiles a watery smile and hopes he won’t cry this much when he confronts the knights. 

The days after the repeal of the ban are full of precautions and self preservation. Merlin is free now, but he’s not about to shout to the world that he’s the most powerful Warlock to walk the earth. 

He and Gwen talk. He tells her almost everything and she listens readily. She smiles and laughs in all the right places and she lets Merlin cry and sometimes he swears her eyes are misty as well. She holds his hand at the rough parts, and Merlin feels, for the first time since Lancelot, like he has a real friend. Someone who knows him for who he is and loves him anyway.

Merlin remains Arthur’s servant. Only because neither of them have had the gall to bring up Merlin’s magic again. Merlin had thanked Arthur after the speech and Arthur had smiled at him and said he was only doing what was right. Said that he should have done it long ago.

Then Merlin blows out the candles and says goodnight and the next morning he’s throwing open the curtains again.

One evening, Merlin is in Arthur’s chambers, finishing up cleaning, when Arthur sits at his desk.

“I’ll get your dinner, Sire,”

“No, Merlin. Don’t bother.” He waves a hand in dismissal. “I’ve got another servant bringing it up,”

“What?” Merlin furrows his eyebrows. 

“I got another servant bringing up dinner. I’ve been thinking of hiring someone new.” Arthur shrugs.

Merlin looks offended, then worried, then angry before he clears his throat and attempts to look calm again. 

“May I ask why?”

“Take a seat, Merlin.” Arthur gestures to the chair across from him. Merlin eyes him skeptically and sinks into the chair. A servant, a young man with red hair, enters the room and slides two trays of food onto the desk. One in front of Arthur, and another in front of Merlin. Merlin looks down at his tray with utter confusion.

“You can eat, you know.” Arthur informs him once the servant has left.

“Why?”

“You already steal food from my plate, might as well just give you your own.” Arthur shrugs. “I wanted to speak with you.”

“If this is your way of firing me gently, I’d rather you just tell me now,” Merlin says. 

“I’m not sacking you.” Arthur huffs. “I simply think this job is no longer fit for you.”

“Sire, with all due respect, that is ridiculous.” Merlin says.

“I wanted to offer you a new job,” Arthur continues over Merlin. “Of course if you’d prefer being a servant, I will not refuse you.”

“You want to offer me a new job?” 

“Court Sorcerer.”

“You… want me to be Court Sorcerer?” Merlin asks, dumbfounded. “You want a court sorcerer?”

“Magic is legal now, which means we’ll be dealing with magic more regularly and I hope to do that in the best way possible. We need a court sorcerer. You’re apparently powerful. You know about the old religion, the druids respect you. It would be the ideal position for you.” Arthur explains. “It comes with higher pay and new chambers if you want them. Of course you’d get a seat at the round table as well.”

Merlin looks flabbergasted. Caught off guard completely. Arthur can’t help but smile at having surprised him like this. After a moment, Merlin smiles, wide and happy and more genuine than any smile he’s seen on Merlin in years. 

“You want me to be court sorcerer.”

“Do you accept?”  Arthur asks, hopeful.

“Of course I do,” Merlin says and he reaches across the table for Arthur’s hand. “Thank you, Sire.”

“No more ‘ sire ’.” Arthur says, grinning. “You’re Court Sorcerer now.” 

Merlin shakes his head and takes back his hand reluctantly. He picks up his fork, finally. He eats, quickly and happily and Arthur follows suit.

“Now, you’ve got a lot to tell me. Now that I know about your magic, you have no excuse to keep your stories to yourself” 

“Of course,” Merlin nods. “What do you wish to hear about first?”

“The druids.” Arthur says. “They know of you?”

“Yes. The druids call me Emrys,”

Arthur nods, thoughtful. “You really are something, Merlin.” He shakes his head. “So tell me about Emrys.”

The next day, Merlin isn’t dressing Arthur for training. He’s with Gaius, moving what little things he does possess into his new chambers. His room is not far from the King’s, for which Merlin is glad. It makes it much easier to save Arthur should he need to. Plus, he enjoys Arthur’s company. The closeness is appreciated. 

Gwaine finds him in Gaius’ chambers after practice, sweaty and panting. He looks worried.

“Where were you today?” He asks. “Arthur had a different servant.”

“I know.” Merlin says. “He got a new servant.”

“He fired you?” Gwaine sounds incredulous and angry on Merlin’s behalf and Merlin grins at his loyalty. Then Gwaine looks around and sees Merlin’s empty bedroom. The last of his boxes packed away. He looks at Merlin, fear taking over his features for a moment.

“Where are you going?”

“No where.” Merlin reassures him. “I’ve been promoted,”

“Really?” Gwaine chuckles. “To what?”

“Court Sorcerer.” Merlin says, watching Gwaine's face to gauge his reaction. He feels the nerves flutter through him, somehow it never gets easier revealing his magic to those Merlin actually cares about.

Gwaine processes for a full two minutes before utter confusion crosses his face.

“Shouldn’t a sorcerer have that job?” He asks.

“A sorcerer does have that job,” Merlin says.

“I thought you had it?”

“I do,” 

Gwaine looks confused for all of two seconds before his eyes go wide, then excited. 

“Holy shit!” He exclaims and pounds Merlin on the back. “You’re a sorcerer!”

Merlin nods and Gwaine thumps him on the back.

“And you’re Court Sorcerer! That’s fantastic!” He says.

“Thanks, Gwaine.”

“Always.” Gwaine grins, “So since when have you had magic?”

“I was born with it. I’m technically one of the most powerful in all the land.”

“Of course you are,” Gwaine rolls his eyes. “I can never quite predict you, Merlin. It’s what I love about you.” He says. “Do the others know?”

“Only Arthur, Gwen, and Gaius. It feels strange to be open after hiding it for so long.” Merlin shrugs.

“Of course,” Gwaine nods. “I’ll let you tell them then.”

“Arthur will be making the announcement tonight,” Merlin says. 

That night, Arthur does announce it. Merlin is officially Camelot’s Court Sorcerer and throughout the evening, people congratulate him on his new position. There are some who seem wary, people who look at him differently. People who look almost scared of him. But for the most part, he is respected. Each of the knights are respectful enough. They give him friendly hugs or pats on the back and then Merlin is really, and truly, free.

Merlin is settling into his new position as court sorcerer nicely. His new chambers are bigger and have more room and oftentimes he spends the evenings in Arthur’s room anyway, discussing various things. Filling him in on stories and adventures that happened behind his back.

One morning Merlin is in Arthur’s room. He had come up early to drop off paperwork he was looking over and Arthur had invited him to stay for breakfast. Merlin sits down and thanks the new serving boy for his tray of food. He and Arthur talk, stealing food from each other’s trays and discussing nonsense. 

Merlin thinks that this has been the most carefree he’s ever felt. The happiest he’s ever felt. Breakfast with Arthur, making him laugh over stupid things. He’s happy, and Arthur looks happy, and Merlin tries not to look too love struck, but the truth of the matter is, he is in love with Arthur Pendragon. He’s in love with Arthur and he will never act on it.

At some point, the conversation reaches a lull, it’s comfortable and quiet and Merlin feels safe and at home. Arthur sets down his fork and stands up, going across the room to rustle through his things for a moment. When he comes back to the table, he’s holding a small box which he sets down in front of Merlin.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.” Arthur says. He looks nervous and Merlin picks up the box hesitantly. He opens it up and inside is a ring.

Merlin thinks his heart stops then and there. “What is this?”

“A ring.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “For you. If you want it.”

“It’s beautiful,” Merlin whispers. And it is, the gold band has green stones embedded into it and it’s exactly something Merlin would wear. “What’s the reason for this?”

“Rings represent commitment, Merlin.”

“So you’re committed to…?”

“To you.”

“Are you joking?” Merlin squints at him.

“What?” Arthur looks offended. “Or course not. Why would I joke about this?” Arthur crosses his arms. “I do have feelings, you know. Is it so crazy that I’d have them for you?”

Merlin says nothing, his face bright red. “You have feelings for me?”

“You’ve always meant a great deal to me, Merlin.” Arthur says softly. “I may be the king, but with you…” Arthur laughs and shakes his head, clearly feeling like an idiot. “You’re the most important person in my life. Obviously you don’t need to accept if you don’t wish to,”

Merlin grins and reaches over to take Arthur’s hand. “I accept.” He says. “What kind of commitment is this exactly?”

“Well it’s not quite an engagement.” Arthur shrugs. “But I’ve promised myself and my people that I would marry for love. I would be fulfilling that promise if I ever do marry you.”

Merlin isn’t breathing. He’s looking at Arthur with awe in his eyes, then he’s looking at the ring, and he’s not really seeing anything at all.

“Merlin?” Arthur asks in a nervous whisper.

Merlin nods, unable to do anything else, and he looks back at Arthur. He takes out the ring and slips it onto his finger quickly, looking at it, how it fits perfectly. How it looks like it’s always belonged there.

“Arthur…” Merlin says, “I have always been committed to you. You were… a complete prat in the beginning. You still are sometimes. But then you were kind and loyal and everything a king should be, and my destiny finally made sense. I started to actually like you, if you can believe that,” Merlin laughs. “There’s no one else I love more. I will be by your side until the day I die,”

Arthur grins with watering eyes and he reaches across the table to hold Merlin’s hands. 

“And apparently, I’m immortal, so I’ll be by your side forever.” 

Arthur laughs and takes one of his hands back to wipe his eyes. Merlin picks up his other hand and his eyes go gold for a second. A gold ring materializes around Arthur's finger and Merlin grins, pleased with himself.

Arthur admires the ring, looking completely and totally happy.

“Thank you, Merlin,”

“Of course, Arthur,” Merlin says.

It takes a while for the knights to notice, and when they do, they claim the rings were hardly noticeable, and it’s not as if you didn’t act married before . Technically, they weren’t to be married yet, but they both knew they had time. The future would approach them eventually and they would marry.

Until then, Merlin is content to wake up beside Arthur. To eat breakfast with him every morning. To hold his hand and kiss him and stay up late discussing absolutely nothing of importance.

In fact, he’s more than content. He’s the happiest he’s ever been.