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Chapter Text

Merlin hated hunting. Completely and utterly hated it. Arthur described it as “good fun”, but Merlin didn’t see the fun in killing animals that were just minding their own business. These were the thoughts that ran through his head as he made his way down the corridor, hunting equipment in hand. Arthur had told him that they would be out for three days, and although Merlin was glad to be able to get out of the castle for a while, he would rather spend that time doing pretty much anything else. He hadn’t even had the chance to practice his magic in a few days; Arthur had kept him so busy. He sighed, only hoping that this hunting trip would turn out better than the last one, when Arthur had nearly run him through because he “startled” him when Merlin came back from collecting firewood.

“What took you so long?” Arthur asked as Merlin made his way into the courtyard.

“Sorry, sire,” Merlin muttered in reply. “You misplaced your crossbow again and it took me a while to find it.”

“Oh, cheer up, Merlin,” Arthur laughed, completely unfazed by Merlin’s sour mood. “And don’t be such a girl, sometimes you sound like you could be my wife.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, only slightly insulted by Arthur’s comment. He attached their last saddle bag and mounted his horse, following Arthur out of the city.

…

Merlin cursed as he tripped over yet another root, causing Arthur to throw his crossbow at the ground yet again in annoyance.

“You know,” Merlin said, picking himself up off the ground, “if you keep doing that, you’re going to break it.”

“It’s perfectly fine, Merlin, you can put it back together!” Arthur called over his shoulder, Merlin jogging to catch up to him.

Dusk wasn’t far off, and they hadn’t caught anything all day due to Merlin’s inability to keep quiet. Merlin wondered how close Arthur was to telling him to go off on his own, though he still found his fits of indignation rather amusing. A faint crack broke through his thoughts, and he stopped to glance around. “What is it now?” Arthur asked in exasperation, turning to face him.

“I thought I heard something,” Merlin whispered in reply.

“It’s probably just your imagination, as usual,” Arthur sighed, starting to walk away.

Merlin shook his head, frowning. He turned to follow Arthur, but caught movement out of the corner of his eye. “Bandits!”

-A-

Arthur blinked dazedly, feeling the back of his head for the lump that had no doubt caused him to pass out. His vision began to clear, and he glanced around. One of the bandits must have knocked him out from behind during the attack. Most of the men were down, and Arthur had a moment of panic when he didn’t see Merlin, but then he spotted him across the clearing. A bandit ran at him, but before he could reach Merlin, a branch snapped off of a tree, landing squarely on top of the man just like so many occasions previously that Arthur had just assumed to be lucky. There was something different about this time though. Merlin’s eyes had flashed gold. Arthur knew magic when he saw it, thanks to his sorcery-hating father, Uther. But this was Merlin; he couldn’t have magic, surely? That would mean he was evil, and Merlin was anything but that. Perhaps it had just been a trick of the light.

Merlin looked around, though there were no more bandits who were conscious. Arthur saw the relief in Merlin’s eyes when he saw that Arthur was alright, though the relief quickly turned to horror as he realized that Arthur had seen what he had done. There was no doubting that Merlin had used magic now.

Arthur found himself walking towards the terrified servant, though he didn’t remember getting to his feet.

“A-Arthur, I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ Merlin stuttered, backing himself against a tree. Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. “What the hell was that?!” he growled.

“It’s n-not what you think, Arthur, I-“ Merlin broke off with a gasp of pain as Arthur’s fist connected with his face. Arthur let go of Merlin, his anger gone. What had he done? He had gotten upset with Merlin before, but he had never hit him. Merlin was looking at him in shock, his cheek already beginning to swell. Arthur stumbled backwards, scared that his rage would return and he’d hurt Merlin further. The young warlock stepped away from the tree, backing up a few paces before whirling around and fleeing as fast as his legs could carry him. “Merlin, wait!” Arthur called after him, but his friend was already gone.

Chapter Text

Arthur felt the pull to search for Merlin more strongly than anything else at that moment, but he knew that he needed to be by himself and sort through his thoughts and emotions. He kept feeling everything at once, all in a jumble. Guilt for hitting Merlin, anger at him for not telling him about his magic, then humor that Merlin could ever be a sorcerer, anger again, curiosity about how long Merlin had been practicing magic and why, then back to the guilt. This all left him very confused, especially the little issue about whether Merlin was supposed to be evil or not. He thought that the best thing to do then was continue on with his hunting; at least it would take his mind off of things.

At the end of the day though, Arthur had only managed to catch a rabbit, unable to tear his thoughts away from Merlin. He made the decision to head back to the castle in the morning; maybe he could get more of an explanation from Gaius, who would undoubtedly have known about the magic, and also send a search party out to look for his friend. Satisfied, he settled down to try and get some sleep. He never did.

-M-

Merlin ran for what felt to him like an eternity. Even when he thought his lungs would burst or his legs would give out, he didn’t stop. He soon began to stumble more often, finally collapsing against a tree as the sky grew dark. He caught his breath and managed to build himself a fire, not bothering to be careful when he lit it with magic.

The silence of the night lent time to his thoughts, giving him a chance to look over the day. What a fool I was, he told himself. Gaius was right, all these years. I am too reckless with my magic. But the one thought that was even worse was that Arthur had rejected him for who he was, like all those other sorcerers that had been put to death by Uther. Arthur had turned into someone completely different in that moment, as if Merlin had never known him. No matter how angry Arthur had been before, he had never hit him, unless you counted the playful slaps and water goblets flung across the room. Merlin reached up to touch his cheek and winced; it was still tender.

He decided to put all thoughts of Arthur out of his head for the night and hopefully get a good sleep. Arthur would come to his senses sooner or later, wouldn’t he? Merlin tried to get as comfortable as he could on the ground, closing his eyes. It took a while, but finally the relief of sleep washed over him and he could rest, his face still streaked with silent tears.

…

Merlin woke in the early morning gray light. He struggled to sit up, the events of the previous day flooding back to him. It was only then that he realized the reason it was hard to get up was that his hands were bound behind his back. The sleepiness was immediately gone, replaced with fear and anger. With my luck, I’ve probably been found by slave traders, he thought bitterly.

“So, the great Emrys wakes.” Merlin’s head snapped up, and he focused on the source of the familiar voice.

“Mordred.”

Chapter Text

Arthur watched the sun rise slowly above the horizon, streaking the sky with orange. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the previous night, too involved with the predicament he was in. Eventually he got to his feet, packing his bag and getting on his horse. He wanted to get back to Camelot quickly; the sooner he got some answers and on a search party, the better. Urging his horse forwards, he rode off towards the castle as swiftly as he could.

…

When Arthur arrived in the courtyard, he tossed the reins of his horse to a passing servant without a second glance and ran up to Gaius’s chambers, throwing the door open. The physician jumped, startled by the noise. “What on earth are you doing here, Arthur? Aren’t you supposed to be away hunting? Where’s Merlin?” he asked, a hint of annoyance entering his voice.

“You knew, didn’t you? How long, Gaius?” Arthur replied, not bothering to answer the questions fired at him. Gaius looked confused for a moment, then terrified as he realized what Arthur was referring to. He sat down heavily on the nearest bench, holding his head in his hands. “That stupid boy, stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered. “Where is he, Arthur? Where is Merlin?” he asked sharply, looking the prince in the eyes.

“He ran off when he realized that I’d seen,” Arthur said guiltily. “After…after I yelled at him,” he added quietly, deciding it would be best to leave out the part where he punched Merlin. “Can you tell me what you know, Gaius? How long has he practiced magic for?” he continued gently, the adrenaline rush from his frantic ride back dissipating.

“It’s not for me to tell you, sire, Merlin would want to tell you himself,” Gaius said with a sigh. “But I will say that he would only use his magic for you, Arthur. His loyalty to you and Camelot is unwavering, as you very well know. The thought of betraying you would never even dare to cross his mind.”

Arthur nodded, remembering clearly the times Merlin would ride out to face a threat with him, always there at his side. He had sometimes wondered why Merlin never asked for chainmail, and he felt guilty now for never bringing it up. But he realized that Merlin didn’t really need it, if he had magic. And it also explained why he was so useless with a sword but still managed to defend himself. “How long?” he asked again.

“Since before he arrived in Camelot. He…” Gaius hesitated for a moment, wondering if Merlin would mind his telling Arthur about this detail. Deciding it would be for the best in convincing Arthur of Merlin’s good intentions (though he seemed to be there already), he continued. “He was born with it. He could do magic since before he could talk, move objects with his mind without a word. He doesn’t need incantations, you see. He only uses them to help focus his power,” he explained.

Arthur looked both confused and shocked at the same time. “But how is that possible? Doesn’t magic require years of study?”

Gaius nodded. “Yes, but Merlin is a special case. I’m not entirely sure how or why he was born the way he was. It’s similar to Morgana’s case, where she never studied but was born with her magic. It just appeared later on in her life is the difference.” He winced slightly when he realized that he probably shouldn’t have compared Merlin with the witch, but he couldn’t take back what he said. Thankfully, Arthur just seemed to skim over that bit and skip right to the part where he went deathly pale.

“Are you alright, sire?” Gaius asked worriedly, hoping he hadn’t said something wrong.

Arthur had come to a sudden realization. “What if Morgana found Merlin? He could be captured, or wounded, or…” he trailed off, unable to voice his fear that Merlin could be dead.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Arthur. He can take care of himself. Morgana doesn’t know of his magic-Merlin was very careful about that,” Gaius said, trying to reassure both Arthur and himself. “Why don’t you stay in the castle for tonight and search for him tomorrow?”

“Alright,” Arthur replied reluctantly. “I’m going to gather the knights for a meeting, I’d appreciate it if you’d come too,” he added hopefully.

Gaius nodded his assent. “I’ll be there shortly.”

…

A short while later, Arthur, Leon, Percival, Elyan, and Gwaine, along with Gaius and Gwen, were gathered at the round table. He had ordered the guards not to let anyone else in; he couldn’t risk someone overhearing the discussion.

The knights muttered amongst themselves curiously, while Gwen looked worried and confused at Merlin’s absence.

“I know that you were all expecting Merlin and I to be out hunting for another couple of days, but something came up. We were attacked by bandits, and, well…” Arthur broke off for a moment to glance at Gaius to make sure it was alright if he told the others. Gaius nodded in encouragement, having decided it would be best if the knights and Gwen knew as well, even if Merlin wouldn’t be too happy about it. But Arthur had been the biggest obstacle in the way of Merlin’s secret coming out, and if Arthur accepted Merlin for whom he was, then he figured it shouldn’t be too hard to get the others on Merlin’s side as well.

Arthur continued, though he was a bit less confident now. “I had been knocked out for a moment”-Gwaine snickered at this and Arthur gave him a death glare to shut him up-“and when I woke, I saw Merlin using magic to fend off an attack on himself.”

The group fell into a shocked silence. Only Gaius looked unsurprised, though Arthur thought he saw something in Gwaine’s eyes akin to revelation. Dismissing it, he carried on. “I was just as shocked as you are, and I was angry.” Gwaine looked murderous now, obviously getting the wrong idea. “Merlin was running off by the time I came to my senses. I don’t know where he went, only that he’s probably still in the woods. At dawn I’d like to send out a search party to find him.”

“Why, so you can kill him?” Gwaine yelled, shooting to his feet and sending his chair screeching back. “No wonder he ran off, he was probably terrified! What did you do to him?!” He slammed his hands down on the table in anger, looking about ready to strangle the King.

“He was fine when he left, Gwaine!” Arthur shot back before remembering the incident and faltering. He fell back into his chair, head in hands. “He looked so scared…” he murmured, and Gwaine sat back down heavily as well, reaching the conclusion, along with the others, that Arthur didn’t want to kill Merlin any more than they did. Arthur raised his head again, and Gwaine nodded solemnly in apology. A thought entered Arthur’s mind, and he knew he had to ask. “Did anyone else know, besides Gaius?”

No one moved for a moment, but then Gaius spoke. “Though he is no longer with us now, I think Lancelot would have wanted you to know that he found out not long after meeting Merlin. Once, he told me that he had heard Merlin incanting a spell when he had gone to defeat the griffin. He told me that it was the most amazing sight he had ever seen, brilliant blue flames coming to life on his lance. He said that he didn’t know how Merlin expected him not to notice, and we had a good laugh over that, but then he confided that he had always thought that Merlin should have been the one knighted instead of him, that he was far braver than anyone. I told him that it was utter nonsense of course, that Lancelot deserved the title, but I agreed that Merlin was always brave. He would never betray any of us, for anything.”

“And here I’ve been teasing him for being a coward, all these years,” Arthur said, and everyone smiled. Then Gwaine spoke up. “At first I suspected, what with the flying plates and benches in the tavern,” he said with a chuckle. “But I dismissed it to my imagination. Now I know that I was right. Merlin could never lift a bench on his own, after all.” At this everyone laughed, and Arthur stood once more. “I think we can all agree that even though Merlin has magic, and is the biggest idiot any of us know, he is a true and loyal friend. So let’s get him back!” The others stood as well, smiles plastered on their faces.

“For Merlin!”

Chapter Text

Merlin had never trusted Mordred. Not since that day when Kilgarrah had told him about the boy’s destiny, about an alliance forming between him and Morgana. Now, he figured, it looked as if that day had finally come.

He hadn’t bothered an escape attempt yet, instead deciding to see where he was being taken. There was a good chance that it would be to Morgana, and later, when he was free, he could tell Arthur where she had been hiding. If I can get free, he added to himself.

Merlin and Mordred, who was practically dragging Merlin along behind him, had been walking only for a few hours when they reached a small hovel built into the side of the rock. Merlin looked at it in confusion, not remembering ever seeing it before while out with Arthur. “Where are we?” he asked, baffled. Mordred snickered. “The Valley of the Fallen Kings, Merlin. Where else?” Merlin gaped, not having realized they had entered the Valley. It was no wonder the patrols had never found Morgana; no one ever went into the Valley of the Fallen Kings if it could be helped.

“Come on, move it,” Mordred snapped, shoving Merlin in front of him towards the hovel. “Morgana should return soon, and then we’ll have a bit of fun, shall we?”

Merlin gave him a death glare, but complied and entered the hut. Mordred shut the door behind them and forced Merlin against a wall, chaining him to it by the cuffs that were already around his wrists. There were a couple of feet of slack to the chains, Merlin observed thankfully, though he had no doubt that Morgana would change that soon enough. Then a sudden thought occurred to him. “Have you-“ he began, before Mordred cut him off.

“No, I haven’t told her of your magic or your identity. Where would the fun be in that? You obviously don’t want her to know, so you won’t use your magic to escape even if you could. And besides, if she knew who you were, she’d kill you right away. I’d never be able to enjoy your suffering.”

Merlin stared at him in shock. “What happened to the little boy I knew all those years ago?” he wondered out loud. Mordred had changed so much, though he hadn’t trusted him, he had held out hope that his destiny could be changed. Mordred would have been a powerful ally. But now every shred of that hope was dashed. “Do you not remember, Emrys? You led the knights of Camelot to Alvarr’s camp! And then you left me at the mercy of them. If I had not had my magic, I would not be alive today,” Mordred replied, his voice rising near the end. “I told you that I would never forget.”

When Mordred spoke of that day, Merlin’s memories were called back and he remembered it well, though he didn’t have time to dwell on it, as Morgana had just entered her hovel. Upon seeing the two inside, she smirked, putting down the plants she had collected and going over to stand by Mordred. “You have done well,” she remarked.

“It was not hard, my Lady. He was quite asleep, with Arthur nowhere to be found,” Mordred replied with a hint of pride in his voice. Merlin merely scowled at the pair of them, now realizing that his plan to cooperate in the meantime had been ridiculous. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why I’m here?” he growled. If it was possible, Morgana’s smirk grew even wider. “Why, you’re here as bait for Arthur, of course. He is strangely fond of you,” she replied, kneeling in front of Merlin who had been sitting on the floor. “But while we wait for Camelot’s beloved prince, I thought that we might get some information out of you. After all, you must have overheard lots of juicy things while in the background during council meetings. Not to mention it will be an entertaining revenge. You did play a part in the death of my sister, after all.”

“You won’t be getting any information from me, Morgana,” he all but hissed at her.

“We’ll see,” she said with yet another smirk. “Come, Mordred,” she added, turning from the warlock on the floor. “I wish to speak with you outside.” Mordred nodded, and the two of them left the hut with Merlin unable to make out the muffled words through the walls. He had decided to reflect over his conversations that day in his mind to make sure he hadn’t missed anything that he might use to his advantage, when one phrase jumped out at him. Mordred had said that Merlin wouldn’t use his magic to escape ‘even if he could’. At this thought, Merlin began to panic, now realizing that he couldn’t feel the presence of his magic coursing through him. When he focused, he could barely make it out, but it was muffled, as if it had retreated inside him. He concentrated on a pot on the table, murmuring, “Onbregdan.” The pot didn’t budge. Merlin tried the spell again, his eyes flickering gold briefly before the colour sputtered and died out. He slumped against the wall in defeat before noticing something on the cuffs around his wrists. They bore small engravings of the Old Religion. Merlin cursed, realizing that they were suppressing his magic. Mordred was certainly clever, if nothing else.

The pair soon re-entered the hovel, approaching Merlin. Mordred dragged him to his feet, restraining him while Morgana detached Merlin’s cuffs from the chains and instead refastened them to the roof so he was forced to put most of his weight on his shoulders. She waved Mordred away when she was satisfied that Merlin was secure, and he went to go sit on a bench at the edge of the room to watch. “So Merlin,” she began in a perfectly conversational tone, “I’ve recently become aware of a sorcerer who goes by the name of Emrys. Knowing how knowledgeable Gaius is and how you two are so close, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of him?” Merlin looked up in surprise, though quickly tried to force his face into a mask of confusion. “I can’t say I have,” he said, rather unconvincingly while Mordred stifled a snort of laughter in his corner.

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me, Merlin,” Morgana murmured, her voice filled with malice. “You always were a rubbish liar.” Before Merlin could react, she had whipped out a dagger and made a slice down the right side of his face with it. He gasped, and could feel the stickiness of the blood as it dripped down his cheek. The shock of the pain was intense and it made his eyes water slightly, but he refused to let Morgana see any weakness in him. He should have known that she would ask about Emrys first. Even if Mordred hadn’t told her about his other name, it was inevitable that she would hear it somewhere else. He glared defiantly at her, keeping his mouth shut. “Not giving anything away, are we?” she laughed. “This is going to be fun.”

-A-

Arthur was just finishing packing his saddle bags when he heard someone enter and turned to see Gwen, noting the look of determination on her face. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I want to come with you,” she said, crossing her arms as if daring him to refuse. Arthur immediately shook his head. “It’s too dangerous, I don’t want you to get hurt,” he told her gently.

“Merlin’s my friend too, Arthur, and I’m going to come with you to get him back,” Gwen replied defiantly. “I can’t just sit here wondering what’s happening and praying that you’re safe.”

Arthur sighed. He was never able to say no to Guinevere, especially when she was like this. “Sometimes I wonder if Merlin’s rubbed off on you,” he said. “You don’t ever do as you’re told either.”

Gwen laughed. “So I can come?”

“Yes, you can come.”

“Good, because you know I would have just followed you anyways.”

Arthur widened his eyes in mock horror. “Oh, no, you really are starting to act like him!” At this, they both laughed before reality came crashing back down on them like a tonne of rocks.

“We will get him back, Arthur. You know we will.”

Arthur just nodded, grabbing his bags. “Come on, the others should be waiting in the courtyard.”

…

Arthur, the knights, and the Queen set off a short while later, heading for the woods where Arthur and Merlin had been hunting the day previously. They figured that that was the best place to start; hopefully they would be able to track Merlin. On the ride out though, Arthur couldn’t help the nagging suspicion that something had happened to Merlin after he ran off. After all, the woods were full of dangers. But, Arthur reminded himself, Merlin had magic to protect him. This thought came somewhat bitterly, but was quickly replaced by guilt due to the fact that it was technically his fault Merlin had run off in the first place.

He urged his horse to pick up the pace, and soon found Gwaine riding beside him. “Why do you think Merlin never told me he had magic?” he asked the knight.

“Why do you think, Arthur? He probably thought you would chop his head off,” Gwaine replied sourly. At this, Arthur gained a look of shame, something not seen on his face too often. “I don’t know what I would have done. I’m just sorry he didn’t feel he could confide in me.”

Gwaine’s expression softened. “I’m sure he wanted to, Arthur. But he was probably scared, just like so many others who are persecuted for their magic.”

Arthur winced. “I know now that I was wrong, and my father as well. Magic isn’t necessarily an evil thing; it’s the people who decide whether to use it for good or bad purposes. I suppose I just went along with the thought because that’s how I was raised, and I’ve hardly ever seen it used for good. But it’s been in Camelot the whole time, in Merlin. I feel like such an idiot for never noticing. I’m going to make sure Merlin knows how sorry I am.”

“I think you’re going to have to do something pretty big for him to believe that,” Gwaine replied with a hint of a smile. Arthur grinned.

“I’ll give him the day off.”

Chapter Text

Merlin groaned as he slowly woke from unconsciousness, squinting against the faint light that shone through the window. The previous night was fuzzy; he couldn’t remember very much detail, only the pain. His tunic was in tatters from where Morgana had lashed his back, and he could still feel small rivulets of blood running down it through the burning. The cut on his cheek had stopped bleeding a while ago, though it still stung. The fact that his arms were still bound above his head didn’t help either, only worsened the feeling.

He deduced that Mordred and Morgana were either still asleep or else outside, due to the deafening silence in the hovel. He took this opportunity to try and reach for his magic, finding it hidden deep within. But when it was just close enough, when he was able to grasp it, he felt something akin to lightning course through his body, and he screamed. The pain was unbearable, and he quickly dropped the hold he had on his magic, anything to make it stop. When the agony was gone, he just hung there limply by his wrists, shivering as if someone had dropped him into ice. He wanted to curl up into a ball and just forget what had happened, but he could still feel the ghost of the shock, and he was unable to lie down.

It was then that Mordred and Morgana burst through the door, glancing around and half expecting someone to be in the hovel rescuing Merlin. When they saw that there was nobody else there though, identical smirks crossed their faces. If Merlin hadn’t felt as if he would pass out, he probably would have laughed. Mordred had a look of exceptional smugness on his face, obviously realizing that Merlin had tried to reach his magic. Morgana on the other hand looked at him with something resembling delight. “So Merlin, have you finally decided to give up?” she mocked. So she thought the scream had been one of despair then. Typical.

Merlin managed to give her a small smirk of his own. “Never.”

Morgana’s face dropped, and she narrowed her eyes. “Well, perhaps we can change that,” she murmured, loathing lacing her voice.

Merlin braced himself, but was still not ready for the line of fire that ran through his arm as Morgana trailed her dagger down it, carving patterns into his flesh. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, but refused to let out more than a whimper. He would not give her the satisfaction. When she was finished with his left arm, she moved on to his right one, repeating the process and all the while asking Merlin questions about Camelot and Arthur for information, all of which he refused to answer.

He didn’t know how long it went on like this, he lost track of time after about an hour, drifting in and out of consciousness. He knew that the lashes on his back had been reopened. When Morgana finally got bored, she had Mordred throw a few punches at him before instructing him to clean Merlin’s wounds so that they wouldn’t get infected. Merlin was confused by this for a moment until she added, “We don’t want him dying on us. Not yet, at least.”

Then he felt himself slip into darkness.

…

When Merlin woke again, the worst of the pain had subsided, leaving his body to simply ache. Glancing out the window, he figured that it was around noon. Morgana came inside then, carrying a few mushrooms and berries that he supposed would be her and Mordred’s lunch. He couldn’t remember when the last time he’d eaten was, but he was beginning to get hunger pangs.

“So, you’re finally awake, I see,” Morgana sneered. “I have something special for you today,” she added, picking up a box from the table. When she opened it, Merlin flinched as a small black serpent hissed at him. The priestess picked up the snake, holding it in front of his face. “This is a Nathair. It’s often harmless, but it can certainly do what I want it to with some persuasion.”

Merlin tried to inch back, only imagining the pain that this little serpent could cause. He thought he could remember Gaius mentioning it once a long time ago, but the memory was hazy.

Morgana held the snake closer to him, muttering, “Unmicel snaca, suge þa soþan... swilcnesse.” The Nathair darted forwards, latching itself into his neck, and Merlin screamed in agony as the unimaginable pain spread through his body. He screamed until his voice was raw, and only then did Morgana take the vile creature away, putting it back in its box.

Merlin trembled violently, the after-effects making his muscles convulse, and he hung limply in his chains once more.

“That is only an insignificant amount of pain I could cause, in comparison,” Morgana taunted. “If you prove to be uncooperative in the future, it could be so much worse.” She swept out of the room, going to lie down for a much-needed rest while her prisoner hung his head in pain, not bothering to try and shoot her a rebellious look. Please find me Arthur, he thought, and was soon floating again in blackness.

-A-

Arthur grunted as he felt someone nudge him awake with their boot. “Come on, princess, time to wake up,” Gwaine told him cheerfully, grabbing Arthur under the arms and hauling him to his feet. “’M up, ‘m up,” he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. Glancing around, he saw that the other knights were already packing up, ready to head out and continue the search.

They had been hunting for Merlin for three days now, this day would make the fourth. There had been no sign of him, and they had completely scoured the forest. Even when they went back to where Merlin ran off, they could only follow his tracks to a long-dead fire, where he had obviously camped, and then they just disappeared, supposedly covered by magic. So they deduced that either Merlin didn’t want to be found, or…something had happened to him. Assuming the latter-since Merlin always got into trouble-they had begun a search of the whole of Camelot, asking around the small villages and searching every inch of the land in between. But it was as if he had just disappeared off the face of the earth, and they couldn’t explain it.

…

They kept looking well through the day, and it was just after noon when they stopped on the crest of a hill, nearly ready to give up. Arthur had tried to convince the knights that they would find Merlin eventually, but it looked increasingly unlikely that they ever would. Gwaine was the most determined of the knights to find their friend, but even he was beginning to get doubtful. “Maybe he really did just go in to hiding, not wanting us to find him,” the knight commented sadly.

“No, Gwaine. I can’t believe that, something must have happened. He wouldn’t just leave.” The argument sounded poor even to Arthur’s own ears, he had lost his temper with Merlin-something he still wasn’t over yet-after all. “What if he’s hurt, Gwaine? I’d never forgive myself if we just abandoned him in that position.”

Gwaine nodded. “Neither would I.”

“There’s got to be somewhere we haven’t looked yet,” Arthur suggested half-heartedly.

Percival opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it as if dismissing the idea. Elyan was the only one who seemed to notice, the others lost in their thoughts. “What is it?” he asked.

“I mean, there is one place we haven’t looked yet, but it doesn’t make much sense for Merlin to be there,” Percival replied.

The knight now had Arthur’s attention. “Where?”

“The Valley of the Fallen Kings. But why on earth would he be there? No one ever goes there; everyone’s convinced it’s haunted.”

“Which makes it the perfect hiding place,” Arthur muttered, narrowing his eyes. “You know, we don’t even send patrols in there. I’d bet you anything that’s where Morgana’s been hiding out all this time. I can’t believe we never realized that before; Percival, you’re brilliant!”

Chapter Text

It took Arthur, the knights, and Gwen another half day to reach the Valley of the Fallen Kings, and while Arthur was overjoyed that the chances of finding Merlin were in their favour, it scared him to think of what condition they would find him in, assuming the warlock had indeed been found by Morgana.

So many thoughts ran through his head all the time that he constantly felt as if he was in a whirlwind of confusion. However when they reached their destination, it seemed as if the questions in his mind dissolved to leave his thoughts clear, and he began to think logically, coming  up with a plan.

-M- 

Merlin was exhausted. The torture never ended, even when Morgana and Mordred left. The tremors of pain wouldn’t cease, and Merlin was grateful each time he slipped into unconsciousness, because it was an escape, however brief. But still he would not give in, would not betray Arthur and Camelot. He would rather die. He was left to his thoughts often, either when his two captors grew tired of torturing him or when they had to collect supplies. But when he looked back on it, really the only thing he could think about was whether Arthur was coming for him. He had no way of knowing that Arthur had accepted him and his magic, or that he and the knights were on their way to rescue him. And he wanted to know so desperately, but even if he learned that Arthur was not coming for him, that he had been left to die, he knew that still he would not betray the king. The thought was too unbearable. But Merlin had been left to almost a week of constant torture, and he could feel his strength draining from him. As much as he hated the uncertainty of it, Arthur was his only hope now.

And so came the afternoon when his prayers were answered. Morgana had left the hut to find food, leaving Mordred with Merlin. And leaving Arthur with the perfect time to attack.

-A- 

Arthur had been laying hidden at the edge of a drop overlooking Morgana’s hovel for hours, waiting for the witch to leave. They had found the hut fairly easily once they were in the Valley since it wasn’t too far inside. When he finally spotted her leaving he got quickly to his feet, ignoring the pins and needles from his legs falling asleep, and went to where the rest of the knights and Gwen were hiding.

He had told Gwen earlier that she should stay hidden while the knights went in to find Merlin. She had readily agreed once Arthur had told her that it would be easier for them if they didn’t have to worry about her safety as well. She could use a sword to a decent advantage, but she wasn’t near the skill level of a trained knight.

Arthur didn’t know what would be waiting for them inside the hovel in case Morgana had decided not to leave Merlin in there alone, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing would stop him from rescuing his friend.

And so he signalled to the knights that Morgana was gone, and they filed in behind him. Only Elyan and Leon had stayed behind with Gwen, both as lookouts and also because the hovel simply looked too small for all of them.

Arthur could tell Gwaine was fidgeting behind him, eager to get inside. They approached slowly, and waited a moment before bursting in through the door.

-M- 

Merlin’s head snapped up when he heard the door burst open, completely ripped off its weak hinges from where it was kicked in. But what surprised him more than this was who was standing behind it. Arthur. Merlin felt his face break into one of his ridiculous grins, but he quickly dropped it when he realized that it made his face hurt from the still-healing wounds. He wanted to laugh with pure joy at seeing his friend, and this feeling of euphoria only increased when he saw Gwaine and Percival behind the king. They had come to save him, and that was the only thing that mattered. Until Mordred appeared from the back room, alerted by the crash.

-A-

Arthur glanced around the room when they entered and quickly spotted Merlin off to the side, chained to the roof by his wrists. He wanted to run over and hug the warlock in happiness, because Merlin was alive, and that was all that mattered. But his thoughts were diverted when he saw a boy come running from another room. He looked vaguely familiar, but Arthur couldn’t place his name. His only thought was that this boy had aided Morgana in capturing-and no doubt torturing-his friend, and he would pay.

Letting out a bloodcurdling yell, he charged, ready to strike him down, but was surprised when the boy drew out a sword and blocked his attack. This only fueled Arthur’s anger, and he struck back full-force, starting a vicious battle between them. He knew he was winning, and he was about to strike the final blow when he felt himself lifted from the ground and thrown against a wall. Dazed, he managed to get up, and saw his enemy’s eyes fading from gold back to their original colour. So he had magic then.

Arthur was about to charge again, but stopped when he heard one of the knights.

“Arthur! Get Merlin out of here, we’ll take care of this scum!”

Clearly that was Gwaine. Arthur obeyed, hurrying over to Merlin, who had already anticipated what Arthur was going to ask.

“The key to the cuffs are in that pot over there,” he said hoarsely, nodding his head in the general direction. “I saw Morgana put them in there a few days back.”

Arthur nodded, reaching into the pot that Merlin had indicated, grabbing the single key inside. Sparing a quick glance at Gwaine and Percival, he saw the knights battling strongly, as the king knew they would be.

He rushed back to Merlin, fumbling with the key and finally managing to unlock the cuffs with a click.

-M-

The moment the cuffs holding Merlin captive fell away, he felt his strength returning, his magic coming to the surface and once again flowing through him. He felt free, in the truest sense of the word, as if a vital part of him that was lost had finally been found again. He stood, dropping his arms and relishing the feeling of blood flowing through them again after being tied above his head for so long. But this feeling of euphoria, of freedom, only lasted a moment, before he felt his flesh heating up strangely.

-A- 

Arthur kept hold of one of Merlin’s arms in case the warlock’s legs decided to give out on him, but was forced to let go when Merlin’s skin became searing hot. He was incredibly confused, wondering at how someone could get that warm. At first he thought the man might have a fever, but even that wouldn’t be possible, surely? It had happened too suddenly for that. But his questions were answered when Merlin’s eyes turned a deep molten gold. Glancing down at the cuffs in his hand, he noticed the strange markings and came to the conclusion that they had been suppressing Merlin’s magic. This had to be that magic returning. But he became worried when a minute, then two, passed and Merlin’s eyes still hadn’t returned to their normal bright blue.

The sounds of the battle had faded to his ears; he was only focused on his friend. And the king watched in wonder as the air around Merlin began to hum and take on a slight shade of gold matching the man’s eyes as the magic of the earth that Merlin possessed was released once more. It was a marvelous sight to behold, even if it was strange to Arthur, who had never seen the likes of it before.

Several objects fell from their shelves around the room to shatter on the floor, and Arthur turned just in time to see the boy that Gwaine and Percival had been fighting flung against the wall, his head making a horrible cracking noise against the stone. He did not move to get up.

The others turned in confusion and seemed to notice the golden hue of the air for the first time, and the warlock in the midst of it all. They could only stare in amazement at the man who they had once thought to be only a simple servant.

Eventually the gold faded from the air and Merlin’s eyes returned to their normal blue. He blinked in confusion for a moment before his eyes lost focus and his legs gave out beneath him. Arthur managed to catch him before he hit the floor, and he signalled to the others that they should go before Morgana returned. They nodded, and Arthur lifted Merlin up, carrying him out the door and back to where Elyan, Leon, and Gwen waited.

Chapter Text

Arthur, carrying Merlin, made his way into the small clearing where the others waited with Gwaine and Percival at his side. He heard Gwen let out a cry as she saw the man in her husband’s arms and shot her an apologetic look, laying his friend down in the soft grass underneath a tree. Merlin was still breathing, for which Arthur was grateful. He didn’t know what he would do if Merlin had died after everything that had happened. He sat down next to his friend to wait for him to wake.

Gwen hurried over to them, Elyan and Leon following. “Is he-?” she choked out, but Arthur gave her a reassuring look, shaking his head, and she was calm.

“What happened to him, sire?” Leon asked, watching Merlin with pity in his eyes.

Arthur looked at the knight in confusion before turning his gaze back to Merlin. For the first time he truly saw the cuts and bruises scattered across Merlin’s features in proper lighting, and he drew in a sharp breath. Merlin looked…well, like he’d been tortured to the brink of death for nearly a week. The king drew his eyes away from the man’s face and looked instead at his arms, and upon seeing the wounds carved into them, he was filled with anger towards Morgana. How could she have done this?

The tears in Merlin’s tunic revealed where he had been lashed, the gouges in his skin having reopened in the escape to start bleeding again. Arthur had no doubt that he would see the same thing on Merlin’s back. Among everything else there was a smattering of bruises covering Merlin’s skin, all in various stages of healing.

He wished that he could do something to help, but he was no physician. He could only imagine the pain that Merlin had been in these past days, and he wished that he could take it all away. Merlin didn’t deserve this, now or ever. Just a week ago, Merlin had only been Arthur’s servant in everyone’s eyes, though to Arthur-even if he wouldn’t admit it-he was the king’s best friend. Now, seeing everything Merlin had been through, Arthur knew that the warlock was far braver than he ever gave him credit for, and if he had been through all this and still hadn’t betrayed Camelot, well…Arthur was beginning to think that what Gaius had told him was more than accurate, that Lancelot had been right when he said that Merlin should have been knighted.

He felt his eyes fill with tears for the man, but he willed them away. The king wasn’t supposed to cry, especially in front of his knights. Gwen had no such qualms though, and she let her tears for Merlin fall freely. Arthur drew her close, trying to comfort her. Gwaine looked murderous, and no doubt he wished that he could head out to take on Morgana right then and there. He did in fact disappear for a while, and Arthur began to worry that he had done just that, but he returned a few minutes later with bloody knuckles and splinters in his hands. The other knights waited with them in silence. They didn’t have quite as much of a connection with Merlin, but they anticipated Merlin’s waking as much as Arthur, Gwaine, and Gwen.

It began to get dark, and Arthur began the longest night of his life. He insisted that he stay up to watch Merlin while the others slept, and they respected his decision, knowing that even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was worried. But by the time the sun was drawing over the horizon even the king was beginning to nod off, having difficulty keeping his eyes open. He caught movement out of the corner of his vision though, and he was suddenly awake, staring into the brilliant pools of blue that were Merlin’s eyes.

He laughed. Laughed with complete and utter joy, because Merlin was awake. He was awake, and that meant that everything would be okay.

-M- 

Merlin woke groggily to the searing pain that had become his life, and he dreaded the day, because it would only bring more agony. But then there was a moment when the fear broke, and the events of the previous day rushed back to him, and he knew that he would be alright. Arthur had come, and there would be no more pain. It was finally over, and with that thought came a feeling of peace.

He opened his eyes, and was met with the sight of Arthur sitting beside him, nodding off to sleep. But then the king turned to look at him and when he laughed, Merlin wanted so much to join him, but knew that it would hurt too much, so settled for a small smile. “Arthur?” he whispered, because he needed to make sure that this was real and not some dream.

“It’s okay, Merlin, you’re safe. We’re all here, see?” Arthur said, gesturing to the sleeping forms of their friends. Merlin turned his head to see them, and gave a tiny nod of happiness.

“Do you want to sit?” Arthur asked, and Merlin nodded again, weakly pushing himself up and leaning against the tree next to him with Arthur’s help. The rough bark made the wounds on his back burn, and he grimaced, but tried to ignore it. “Where are we?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.

“Just a ways off from Morgana’s hut,” Arthur replied, spitting his half sister’s name out distastefully. “We need to get going soon-she’s bound to have discovered your escape by now-but I wanted to wait until you were awake. You need to see Gaius to get those wounds treated,” he added. “How do you feel?”

“Like I was tortured for a week,” Merlin replied sarcastically.

Arthur grimaced. “Look, Merlin, I’m…sorry for what I did. You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I could take it back.”

Merlin nodded once more. He had forgiven Arthur a long while ago, knowing the King’s reaction had only been brought about by fear. “So what happens now?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, Merlin replied, “What are you going to do to me? Burn me at the stake, hang me, what?”

Arthur frowned, both in confusion and disappointment in his friend. “Do you really think so little of me, Merlin? I’m not going to have you killed. I don’t know what all you’ve done, but I’m sure it’s a lot more than anyone would ever believe. I do know that you would never betray me or Camelot, though. And now you’ve been through this and still you didn’t tell Morgana what she wanted to know.”

Merlin looked up in surprise. “You’re not going to punish me? Arthur, I have magic. Was that not clear before? I always thought…well, I always thought that when you found out, you would…I don’t know, have me hunted down or something. Now you’re telling me that you’re not going to do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do, Merlin? It sounds like you want to be killed!” Arthur got to his feet, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “I don’t understand you, sometimes,” he muttered, making a valiant attempt to stay calm and not let emotion get the better of him once more.

Merlin got to his feet as well, albeit unsteadily and with difficulty. “Well I guess I’m just confused then, Arthur. I always assumed, and rightly so, that since everyone else who’s been caught using magic has been executed that I wouldn’t be any-“ he broke off, falling to his hands and knees and yelling in pain as he felt a sharp pain spread through his leg. Turning to examine it, he looked in surprise at the dagger protruding from his calf.

Arthur turned around at Merlin’s yell, looking at him in confusion before he noticed the dagger as well. Merlin pulled it free from his leg, tossing it away from him as he tried to stop the gush of blood coming from the wound. He felt Arthur pick him up over his shoulder despite his protests and lift him onto a horse in front of him.

Merlin’s yelp had woken the others, who had looked at him in surprise upon seeing him awake, but when they too saw the bloodied dagger lying on the ground, they followed Arthur’s lead and mounted their horses as well. Arthur urged the horse forwards, and the group rode out of the clearing at top speed, ignoring Merlin complaining and Morgana swearing her revenge behind them.

-A- 

They rode until Arthur was sure Morgana wouldn’t be following them, and stopped in the middle of the forest. Arthur dismounted quickly and managed to catch Merlin, who had practically fallen off the horse when they halted, and set him down to lean against another tree. Their argument was forgotten for the time being, and Arthur kneeled down beside the warlock to examine his leg, which was still bleeding profusely. The dagger must have hit some sort of minor artery. Merlin had clearly lost a lot of blood from the wound while they were riding and looked quite pale. Then a sudden thought occurred to him. Merlin seemed to be struggling to stay conscious, so he shook his shoulder to try and keep him awake. “Merlin. Merlin, talk to me.”

“Wha’?”

Arthur sighed in relief. “Can you heal yourself? Using magic?” It sounded strange, even to him, to be asking Merlin something like this.

“’M rubbish a’ it,” Merlin murmured, his eyelids drooping.

Arthur had to stop himself from laughing. This was so typical of Merlin, not knowing how to do something that might very well save his life. He couldn’t see another option after this revelation, so he tore a strip of fabric from his tunic-grimacing when he thought about the talking-to he would get from Merlin about it later-and tied it tightly around the wound, praying that it would be enough to stop the heavy bleeding. Then he stood, running a hand through his hair and sighing. He was exhausted, but he wouldn’t rest until Merlin was safely back in Camelot. He walked over to the others, who were conversing worriedly among themselves.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Gwaine asked, glancing over at the warlock who had finally slipped into unconsciousness again, slumped against the tree trunk.

Arthur nodded. “I hope so, but he’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get him back to Gaius soon, otherwise that could change in a hurry. I’m worried about his wounds becoming infected.”

“We should get moving now then,” Gwen suggested, and the others nodded.

“He won’t be able to feel the pain of movement while he’s out at least; it’s as good a time as any to head back. We aren’t more than half a day’s ride from Camelot,” Leon added.

“And if we don’t get him to Gaius soon, you could be right and he might be far worse off if we waited,” Elyan said.

Arthur nodded in reluctant acceptance. He didn’t want to move Merlin while he was in such bad shape, but the others had valid points.

So they secured Merlin on Gwaine’s horse, the knight insisting on being the one to carry him this time, and then set off for Camelot, arriving at the gates to the city before the day was out.

Chapter Text

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. The sky was quickly becoming streaked with shades of orange and red, and the townsfolk were starting to head home for their dinner. The only sound heard above the dim murmur of voices was the clattering of hooves as the King and his search party burst into the castle’s courtyard.

Gwaine was the first to dismount, his feet hitting the ground only a moment before his mount had halted. He quickly scooped Merlin up and ran swiftly for Gaius’s chambers, being careful not to jostle the man in his arms. Arthur and Guinevere followed close on his heels, leaving the other knights, who were quite understanding of the situation, to lead the horses back to the stables to be cared for.

The small group was soon at Gaius’s door, Arthur opening it for Gwaine to get through, and asking the physician to clear a space to set Merlin on. Luckily Gaius had been prepared for their return and had a cot ready just in case, as well as having prepared a few basic remedies.

The commotion quickly died down, and Gaius began to examine Merlin, making a valiant attempt to ignore his emotions in favour of focus. This left Arthur, Gwaine, and Gwen to sit and wait, or, in Arthur’s case, pace maddeningly around the room. No one spoke a word until Gaius had finished caring for Merlin; all were concerned about the warlock, and all made the decision to reside in their thoughts for the time being.

After what felt like a lifetime, Gaius finally stood upright and was about to speak, only to be interrupted by Arthur. “How is he?” the King demanded.

Gaius frowned in disapproval, but continued what he had been about to say. “He’ll live-“ he held up a hand at everyone’s sighs of relief, “-but he’s exhausted and drained. I don’t know how long he’ll sleep for.”

“What do you mean by that?” Gwen asked quietly.

“He’s in a coma due to shock caused by severe blood loss,” Gaius replied as Gwaine swore under his breath. “His body is healing itself, but I don’t know how long he’ll be like this. It could be days, or it could be weeks. I’ve done all I can; now we wait.”

-A-

It was exactly sixteen days later that Merlin finally woke. He had been moved into his room, and Arthur was sat beside the man’s bed reading a somewhat boring book of Gaius’s on magical creatures while Leon took over the afternoon’s training. He didn’t notice the bright blue eyes watching him for a good ten minutes, and when he did, he fairly jumped out of his skin.

“Hello, Arthur,” Merlin murmured, his voice cracking slightly from disuse.

Arthur grinned, “Good, you’re awake, I thought I was going to die from boredom.”

“From a book?” Merlin asked, chuckling slightly. “That is so typically you.”

They both laughed before sitting in silence for a few moments. More seriously, Arthur asked, “What do you remember?”

“I remember you, Gwen, and the knights coming to get me, but after that it’s all a bit fuzzy,” Merlin replied. “I’m feeling a whole lot better than before though. How long was I asleep?”

“About sixteen days,” Arthur said. “You look a whole lot better, I can tell you that much.” This was true; the colour had returned to Merlin’s face, and the majority of his wounds were healed.

“Sixteen days?” Merlin exclaimed, sitting up in surprise and immediately regretting it when the world started spinning. Arthur gently pushed him back down and waited until he looked less like he might throw up.

“You lost a lot of blood. Gaius said you slipped into a coma while your body healed itself,” he explained.

Merlin nodded slowly, still processing the information. “How are the others?”

“They’re all doing fine. Gwaine comes in to visit you every afternoon,” the King chuckled, “And the flowers are from Gwen.” He gestured to the small vase of wildflowers on Merlin’s bedside table that the Queen had brought in a couple of days before.

Merlin smiled, glad to know that his friends were all doing well. “Thank them for me, will you?”

“Why don’t you come down and thank them yourself? Do you feel up to it?” Arthur suggested.

Merlin was about to agree when Gaius spoke from the doorway, startling the two of them. “Merlin should stay in bed for another day or so, sire, I don’t believe it would be a good idea for him to be walking about just yet.”

“But-“

“No, Arthur.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Merlin butted in.

“I can see that, Merlin. But right now you should get some sleep,” Gaius told the warlock, giving him a look that said he would catch him up later. “You can tell the others they can visit Merlin tomorrow,” he told Arthur.

The two men nodded reluctantly, Arthur getting to his feet and leaving the book on his chair. “I’ll let the others know you’re awake.” There were so many questions left unasked, but they were purposefully ignored for the time being. There would be plenty of time to talk later.

Merlin’s eyelids began to droop; obviously he was only just realizing that he was tired. The King and the physician left the small room and Merlin alone, and he quickly fell back asleep.

Arthur headed down to the training grounds to tell everyone the good news, glad that things were finally on their way to getting back to normal. Well…as normal as things could possibly be now. With the revelation of Merlin having magic, the King hadn’t ever felt more confused about what to do. But Merlin wasn’t a bad person; Arthur secretly believed the servant was the bravest man he’d ever met-not that he’d ever tell anyone that-and by the way he’d been acting ever since they’d found him in Morgana’s hovel, he just couldn’t convince himself that Merlin would ever turn against him. Merlin was his friend, and he couldn’t bring himself to make the ‘proper’ decision and execute him. It was what his father would have done, but he couldn’t help but think that perhaps his father was wrong. Perhaps not all those with magic were on a mission to make Camelot fall. He had the suspicion that he had subconsciously decided to let Merlin live a long time ago, back when he had first discovered the warlock’s secret. And it wasn’t surprising, really. Merlin was like a brother to him.

-A-

The knights and Gwen were joyful, of course, when Arthur brought them the news that Merlin had woken from his coma. Gwaine laughed out loud and of course wanted to visit Merlin immediately, but Arthur managed to convince him to wait until the next day to give the man a chance to rest. The knight finally agreed, and the training session was continued with everyone in improved spirits.

-M-

Merlin woke the next morning feeling better than he had in weeks, according to Arthur. Nearly all of his wounds were healed with the exception of some of the deeper ones, and most of the bruises had faded. It felt so much better, so much more natural, to have his magic back and coursing through his body again, too.

He sat up slowly, this time without the dizziness, and looked around. Everything was as he had left it the morning he and Arthur had left on their hunting trip. He smiled at this; if it weren’t for the soreness still in his body, it would be like he was never gone.

Merlin got out of bed carefully, supporting himself against the wall until he was certain his legs would hold him. Opening his door, he smiled at the sight of Gaius reading at his workbench. It was like it was just any other normal morning.

Alerted by the door’s creak, Gaius turned to look at the warlock standing in the doorway. “Hello, sleepyhead,” he greeted. “I wondered when you’d be awake; it’s nearly noon.”

Merlin made his way a bit unsteadily into the main room to sit down and throw his arms around the old physician; the both of them now laughing because Merlin was safely back home. “Thank you, Gaius,” Merlin said gratefully.

“For what, my boy?”

“For everything. For taking care of me, for…” he sighed, “for convincing Arthur that I wouldn’t use my magic to turn against him.”

Gaius smiled. “He didn’t need convincing, Merlin. He was in shock; he would have come to that conclusion on his own, in time. He just needed a little push.”

Merlin nodded, thinking. “How much did you tell him?”

“Not a lot. Only that you were born with magic and didn’t choose it; that you wouldn’t use it to hurt Camelot,” Gaius listed. “And about Lancelot.”

Merlin laughed, “I bet he wasn’t best pleased about that.”

“If he wasn’t, he didn’t show it,” the physician said. “You know you’ll have to sort this out with him eventually though, right Merlin?” he added more seriously.

“Yeah,” Merlin nodded, “Soon. But not right away.”

Gaius gave him a stern look, as if he was about to go into lecture-mode. “Merlin-“

“I know, Gaius,” the warlock interrupted, standing up. “I just…I can’t deal with this just yet, and I’m sure Arthur feels the same. You know, since they found me, he can only look at me with this expression of confusion on his face. He looks at me as if I’m a completely different person to the one he’s known for ten years, and I suppose I am, to him, but I haven’t changed, Gaius! I’m still me. I’m still Merlin, the bumbling idiot he likes to throw water goblets at. Why should this change anything? But he gives me this look of confusion, maybe even with a bit of fear in it. He tries to hide it, but it’s so obviously there. I can’t deal with this until it’s gone.”

“You might just have to,” Gaius replied, calmly as always. “I’m not the one you should be telling this to. You need to tell it to him.”

-A-

Arthur had heard everything. He had been about to come in to visit Merlin before he had to go through the pile of paperwork on his desk, but had stopped with his hand raised to knock when he caught the sound of voices through the door. Lowering his hand, he hadn’t wanted to interrupt if Merlin and Gaius were catching up on what had happened while Merlin was away. Consequently, of course, he had heard the entirety of Merlin’s rant. And he was right. Arthur tried to hide it, but he was confused. He knew what to do about the situation; he wouldn’t kill his friend, but he couldn’t deal with the implications of such a decision just yet. He still hadn’t quite processed the fact that Merlin had magic, let alone anything else. There had to be so many things Merlin had done that he didn’t know a thing about, and he couldn’t listen to them yet. And when he had, what would happen afterwards? If he didn’t repeal the outlawing of magic within Camelot, he would have to banish Merlin or else ask him to continue hiding it, and he didn’t know if he could do that any more than he could kill the warlock. And he would never admit it, but perhaps, just a little, he really was afraid of his friend. Gaius had said Merlin was born with magic, but what did that mean? How powerful was Merlin, really? Gaius was right, they would have to sort it out eventually. But not yet.

He turned from the door and headed back to his and Guinevere’s chambers. She wanted to visit Merlin as well, but they would come back with the knights later. Maybe then Gwaine would stop bothering him about it.

He and Gwen exchanged light conversation while he worked through the papers, but they both purposefully ignored the magic issue. It was the same later that afternoon with the knights during training. No one spoke of it because they knew Arthur didn’t want to.

When they all went to visit Merlin that evening, everyone was glad to see him up and about, helping Gaius with his remedies and making supper. They talked for a few minutes before Percival, Elyan, and Leon said goodnight and left Arthur, Guinevere, and Gwaine to stay a while longer. They caught Merlin up on what he couldn’t remember, and how everything was going in Camelot. The subject of magic was still carefully avoided, and eventually the King and Queen decided to head back to their chambers, Gwen giving Merlin a hug goodbye and Arthur punching him teasingly in the shoulder before apologizing profusely when Merlin winced.

Soon things were quiet, Gaius having gone to deliver some medications and the knight and the warlock sitting in silence. Eventually Gwaine spoke up. “He’ll come around eventually, you know.”

Even without further explanation, Merlin still understood that he was referring to Arthur. The King had been acting almost too friendly that evening, and it was blatantly obvious that there was something bothering him. “I know. I just hope it doesn’t take him too long.”

-M-

A week later, and things were almost back to normal. Merlin had returned to his duties a few days before, and was walking alongside Arthur as he paced up and down the training grounds, overseeing everything and giving pointers when needed. The only thing that felt different from before was the glaringly obvious topic that was being meticulously avoided. Every time there was silence between the King and his manservant, it was clear that they both thought about it, but still neither spoke of it. But they couldn’t put it off forever. Their exchanges became awkward and forcibly cheerful, but both pretended that all was well. Others noticed the tension between the two, of course, but only their friends knew the cause of it.

After giving one of the knights a tip on his defense, Arthur said, in the most serious tone he was capable of, “Merlin, we need to talk.”

Merlin took a deep breath and nodded in acceptance. “I agree.”

They went sat on a nearby stone bench, close enough that Arthur could still keep an eye on the knights, but far enough that they were out of earshot. Arthur put his head in his hands, sighing slightly before finally sitting up and speaking to the warlock beside him. “So. You have magic.”

Merlin nodded. “Yep,” he said quietly, drawing out the world slightly and solemnly. Neither looked at each other, instead choosing to watch the training session but not putting any real effort into focusing on it.

“How long?”

“Since I was born,” Merlin replied. “But you already knew that.”

“I know. But I want to hear it from you,” Arthur explained. “Everything. I want to know everything that you’ve done, everything you are. No more secrets.” He looked at the warlock, and Merlin looked at his King.

“No more secrets.”

And so Merlin told Arthur everything. Everything from the moment he walked through the gates of Camelot until their fateful hunting trip. He left nothing out; all that he could remember was shared. He told Arthur about Kilgarrah, about their destiny, about his role as Emrys. Even about the terrible day that King Uther died, supposedly at the hands of an old sorcerer. He told Arthur his best kept secrets, the ones that he had sworn to himself never to divulge. And the King stayed silent throughout, emotions flicking across his face.  They never moved from that spot beside the training grounds, not even when everyone began to head back to the castle and the temperature started to drop with the sun. They were soon completely alone, the sun nearly set. When Merlin was finally finished with his stories they both sat quietly for a few minutes, Arthur obviously still processing all of the information. Eventually, he spoke. “I thought I knew you.”

“I’m still the same person.”

“I had no idea…all this time,” Arthur continued after a moment.

Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “I told you you’d be surprised.”

“What?”

“Do you remember that day Morgana and your father found you and Gwen together?” Merlin asked.

Arthur nodded. “And you used an aging spell and convinced everyone that you enchanted us?”

Merlin gave a small smile. It felt weird, Arthur knowing all that he had done now. “Yeah. And you told me I couldn’t keep a secret if my life depended on it? I told you you’d be surprised.”

It took Arthur a moment to think about this before he burst out laughing. He had obviously just grasped the true irony of that situation.

They slipped into silence again after that, but it was a comfortable one this time, not awkward. It felt as if a huge wall had been removed from between them.

“So what happens now?” Merlin asked.

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know. But you’re not going to die, Merlin. I couldn’t do that.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin said, overjoyed that the King had accepted him for who he was.

Arthur nodded, and they grinned at each other. “Come on,” he said, standing up. “We should head inside. Gwen will be wondering where I am, and Gaius probably thinks you’ve been eaten by something.”

“Hey!” Merlin shoved Arthur indignantly, running away when the King started chasing him. He soon tripped over his own feet and fell down, Arthur quickly grabbing him in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles over the warlock’s head. “Stop! Arthur!” he whined. The King finally let him go, Merlin rubbing his sore head while Arthur laughed.

“Most powerful warlock to ever live and you can’t even escape from me, huh?” he teased.

“Prat. I could turn you into a frog if I was so inclined, you know,” Merlin replied.

Arthur stretched out his arms as if giving himself up. “Go ahead,” he laughed.

Merlin grinned. “Don’t tempt me.”

They both laughed at that, getting to their feet and heading into the castle before parting ways for the night.

-M- 

Merlin sat on his bed the next evening, reading through his spell book after having finished serving dinner to Arthur and Guinevere. The Queen had smiled at him and Arthur the entire time, obviously having noticed the way they were more comfortable around each other. Merlin laughed at the memory. It had started to become almost unnerving, the way she would keep glancing between the two of them. He flipped another page, calling out, “Come in,” when there was a knock at the door, assuming it was Gaius. “Arthur,” he said in surprise, raising his eyebrows when the King entered. “Is something wrong?”

Arthur shook his head, sitting down on the chair still next to Merlin’s bed. “No, just wanted to talk,” he said.

Merlin’s eyebrows rose even further. “You came all the way here just to talk?” he asked skeptically.

Arthur shrugged and seemed to notice the book Merlin was holding for the first time. “Is that…?”

Merlin realized he hadn’t closed it when Arthur came in. It was odd, not trying to hide it. He simply nodded in reply.

“Can I take a look?”

Merlin was surprised at this; he hadn’t expected Arthur to take any interest in his magic. He had actually expected the King to ignore it for the most part after their conversation the previous day. But he handed the book over gingerly anyways. “Careful.”

Arthur took the book from his hands, and they sat in silence as he gently turned a few pages. “You can read this?” he asked.

“Most of it. Gaius can usually help when I don’t recognize something.”

“Do you have a favourite?” he asked, and then added when Merlin looked confused, “A favourite spell, I mean.”

Merlin smiled. “Page eighty-six.” He waited while Arthur flipped to the correct page and tried to figure out what it meant.

“What does it do?”

“Do you want me to show you?” Merlin said, feeling as if he should ask permission.

“Yes.” Arthur sounded almost nervous, but his voice also shook with something that sounded a bit to Merlin like excitement.

The warlock then took a deep breath, cupped his hands, and murmured, “Gewyrc an lif.” A moment passed, Merlin opened his hands, and a vibrant blue butterfly fluttered out of them, fluttering around the room for a minute before exiting through the open window. “Feels strange,” the man murmured.

“Yeah,” Arthur replied, still seemingly in a bit of shock at what his friend had just done. He was quiet for a few minutes before speaking again. “Merlin, I spoke to Guinevere after you left earlier. I asked her about something I had been trying to decide, and she agreed with my choice.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Merlin, I want to repeal the ban on magic.”

Merlin stared at the King in complete shock, his mouth dropping open a little. “Arthur, are you-are you serious?” When his friend nodded, he couldn’t help but laugh, overcome by pure joy and elation. It was finally happening-just how Kilgharrah had said would all along. A ridiculous grin became plastered across his face, and he couldn’t let it drop.

“Now Merlin, you have to understand, I can’t announce it just yet. I’m certain Morgana is planning something as we speak, and I have to deal with it carefully. I don’t know what she would do with this information; whether it would calm her or rile her up, and I can’t take that chance. And you said she doesn’t know of your magic yet, correct? I feel we can use that to our advantage. But until I make the formal announcement, this stays between us, Guinevere, and Gaius. And until then, none with magic will be harmed for it inside these borders. Understand?”

Merlin nodded vigorously, still unable to stop grinning. “Thank you, Arthur, thank you.”

The King smiled and decided to play his last card. “And I want you to be Camelot’s court sorcerer.”

At this, Merlin threw his arms around his friend, not realizing how tight his grip was until Arthur muttered something about not being able to breathe. He let go, sitting back on the edge of his bed and resting his head in his hands until he could pull himself together. “Arthur, you have no idea what this means to me,” he finally said.

“Merlin, you have done so much for Camelot that nearly no one knew about. For ten years, you made sure all of us were safe, especially me. And you never once asked for recognition. You need to know that I always want you…to be you.”

When his King told him this, Merlin knew. He knew that finally those with magic would be free to be who they were within the borders of Camelot. He knew that they would face challenges, but they would face them together. He knew that everything would be all right.