Chapter Text
Arthur was knocked to the ground after the massive stone creature slammed into him. At least his men had made it to safety. As he lay on the ground waiting for the beast to finish him, too dizzy to move but too alert to slip into unconsciousness, Merlin’s words, of all things, raced through his mind.
“Cedric is possessed by an evil spirit. He tried to steal the jewel but it wasn’t a jewel it was the soul of an ancient sorcerer Sigan. Please, listen to me. Camelot is in mortal danger. Sigan is using Cedric’s body to take his revenge.”
Gods, Arthur had been such an idiot. In all the times Merlin had come to him with outlandish theories of nefarious plots against Camelot, he had never been wrong. But he dismissed him, threw him in the dungeon even for trying to save everyone.
And he was there now, trapped while Sigan-in-Cedric’s-body destroys the town. His last words still echoed in Arthur’s head, taunting him, cursing him.
“He’s going to destroy Camelot!”
Fighting to pull enough air into his lungs, he braced himself to lift his sword against the beast, who was swooping in for the kill. As long as Arthur had breath in his body, he would defend Camelot. The shout of indistinguishable words and the shower of stone around him froze Arthur.
That was definitely magic, but why would Sigan destroy his own creation?
The heavy silence that followed allowed Arthur to track the new comer. He was still too weak to open his eyes after the blow to the head but his whole body tensed as the footsteps began to pick up speed and suddenly there were hands on his chest and heavy breathing against his face that was distinctly Merlin’s.
“Who would’ve believed it. You, a sorcerer. And a powerful one” Cedric’s voice echoed across the courtyard. The shock of it forced his eyes open and he watched as Merlin looked to face the approaching enemy.
In the heavy gloom, the darkness seemed to engulf his manservant casting shadows beneath his cheekbones and the hollows of his neck. The contrast of the shadows against his pale skin that seemed to glow in the light of the moon was striking. Arthur had never seen him look so deadly.
But Arthur supposed he should’ve realized it sooner. This man knelt beside him had tackled an evil immortal sorcerer just a few hours ago.
Merlin’s words were spoken before Sigan’s had fully registered in Arthur’s mind. “I won’t let you hurt him.”
“And you’re going to stop me?”
Merlin was on his feet now, moving closer to face Sigan. Arthur’s mind was screaming at him to grab his hand and not let him go. This was Arthur’s battle to fight, but Merlin was the only one who was able to stand.
“I’ll stop you.” There was something so confident about the way those words were spoken. The subtle strength, the immovable resolve. The surety made some of the tension seep out of Arthur’s body without his permission.
“He does not deserve your loyalty. He treats you like a slave.” Sigan said.
“That’s not true.” Merlin’s voice had begun to waver but his words made Arthur’s chest swell.
“He cast you aside without a moment’s thought.”
His chest came crashing down again, now with a sizable weight pressing on it. When Merlin had been thrown in the dungeon and Cedric had disappeared, Arthur was left alone with his thoughts and his guilt. And it had been weighing on the back of his mind ever since.
“That doesn’t matter.” Merlin said, his voice strong as it had ever been.
“But it must hurt so much. To be so put upon, to be so overlooked when all the while you have such power.”
Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. Merlin had never wanted to be a servant. He had been forced into the role but he served well and with unwavering loyalty even as his father murdered his kind. With loyalty that, Sigan was right, Arthur didn’t deserve. Serving a prince who he believed would’ve had him executed if his true nature had ever been revealed. For just a moment, he thought he could start to comprehend the burden that had been weighing on merlin all this time. So Merlin’s next words made Arthur’s chest ache.
“That’s the way it has to be.”
“Does It? You’re young merlin. Look inside yourself you have yet to discover your true power. I can help you.” Sigan reached out in the air for him and continued, “Think, Merlin, to have the world appreciate your greatness. To have Arthur know you for what you are.”
Arthur could see Merlin’s chest stutter at this. He struggled to lift his head and tried to shout so Merlin would know he had heard but it came out as a harsh whisper, “Merlin!”
They couldn’t hear him.
“That can never be.” Merlin said, shaking his head and taking a step back. Arthur could tell he was wavering. The things Sigan was offering, power, reverence, it would tempt any man. He had to know that Arthur was there, that he wouldn’t betray him for his magic. But all Arthur could manage was scraping the tip of his sword against the stones.
“It can.” Sigan’s promises were warm. “If you join me. Together we can rule over this land. Arthur will tremble at your voice, he will kneel at your feet.”
There was darkness in Merlin’s gaze then, his strength returning to him as he made his choice.“I don’t want that.”
The air rushed from Arthur’s lungs in a puff through his involuntary smile. Even though he was relieved at Merlin’s declaration, he shared in the confusion in Sigan’s next words, “You’d rather be a servant?” Who would want to be a servant laboring for an ungrateful lord when they had power like Sigan had mentioned?
“Better to serve a good man than to rule with an evil one.”
“So be it.” Sigan took a sharp breath. “If you will not join me, I will become you and your power will be harnessed to my will.”
Arthur, unable to do anything but watch, saw the rolling blue smoke pour out of Cedric’s mouth and seep across the stones. When it reached Merlin and started curling around his ankles, he set his chin and started to chant. His body straining to resist the power that was invading him. Then he collapsed.
Gaius’ voice was the next thing Arthur heard, calling out into the dark of the courtyard for his apprentice. From his position of the ground, Arthur could see both his own fear mirrored in the physician’s face and a swirling blue stone in Merlin’s hand.
But there was laughter and embraces and a “Well done, my boy,” filled with so much pride, it sent a tiny pang of jealousy through Arthur. His head thunked back against the stones and Arthur heaved huge sigh, letting the darkness take him.
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When he woke in his bed a few hours later, sunlight streaming in, a thought rang strong and clear through his mind before any others. Merlin was a sorcerer. He was a sorcerer who had stared into the face of evil temptation and resisted the urge for wealth and power and reverence. Not only that, but he’d saved Camelot.
But he’d broken the law. From the sound of it, he’d been breaking it for many months.
There was one thing keeping Arthur from turning Merlin in. Well, maybe two things, but there was only one he let himself think about. Better to serve a good man than rule with an evil one.
He was a sorcerer who had no desire for power or notoriety. He served Arthur because he believe he was a good man. And how many times had he saved the oblivious prince’s life?
Arthur could understand why Merlin never admitted to having magic-One stern look from Uther and even Arthur was stricken with fear sometimes-but he was torn between his duty to the law and his loyalty the previous night’s display had opened his eyes to. Just because Arthur understood didn’t mean it didn’t hurt that Merlin thought he couldn’t trust Arthur. What hurt even more was the fact that Arthur wasn’t sure that if Merlin had told him the truth sooner, he wouldn’t have turned him in.
This is what carried him to the door of the physician’s chambers, a bag of dirty armor in his hand as an excuse. But Gaius’ rumbling voice made Arthur pause outside and listen to another conversation he wasn’t supposed to be hearing.
“You know you won’t get any thanks, Merlin.”
“I’m not a complete idiot.” Merlin said and Arthur had to fight back a laugh because the comment was so obviously directed at him and he wasn’t even there to Merlin’s knowledge.
“There you go. It’s not much but you deserve something.” Gaius said and there was a small clatter. Arthur couldn’t hold back anymore. He knocked three quick raps and pushed his way inside. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say but he knew he couldn’t listen anymore about how Merlin saved the day and wasn’t getting any credit. It did strange things to his stomach.
“I’ve come to see Merlin.” He said, to stall. He saw the other man shift uneasily in his seat and he wondered if Merlin ever felt guilty for lying to Arthur about his secret. He certainly looked it now. Or maybe he was just apprehensive because the only time Arthur ever came to see him was to give him chores.
“I’ve not forgotten about your lazy, insolent ways. Or the fact that you called me clotpole.” He said the word carefully with enough disdain that Merlin got the hint. “But I do have to admit there was some truth in your accusations against Cedric.”
“Does mean that on this occasion, you’re actually admitting that I was right?” The other man looked so hopeful, but Arthur just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not when the sting of betrayal still pricked him.
“Not exactly, no.” He said, “It means that I have a knighthood to bestow first thing tomorrow and no one to clean my armor.” He got a lot more enjoyment out of dumping the heaping pile of metal all over Merlin’s celebratory lunch than he probably should have done. “All that?” Merlin said taking in the sight of it all.
“Yep.” Arthur said, and he couldn’t resist tossing the bag in his servant’s face. It was petty, he knew, but if Merlin wanted to keep secrets from him, then Arthur would make him pay for it.
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At the dinner table that evening, Arthur was quiet. Even when Morgana taunted him. Especially when his father tried to congratulate him on his recent victory.
When Arthur did little more than glance up and twitch his goblet in thanks, Uther pushed aside his food and turned a stern look, Arthur supposed he thought was a concerned expression, on his son.
“Arthur, What is the matter?”
He wanted to tell his father. The words were on the tip of his tongue ready to spill out. But he remembered his father’s face, strangely similar to the way it is now, when Gwen was arrested for sorcery. He had been ready to kill her even though she had been a loyal servant for many years. She hadn’t even been given a proper trial. Merlin would get even less if Arthur declared he had magic. Those words were as good as beheading the man himself.
“What if someone…” Arthur trailed off, trying to figure out a way to ask his question without giving anything away. “What if someone who wasn’t evil used magic?”
Morgana’s head shot up, her piercing eyes searching Arthur’s face. Uther didn’t see her though. He just stared uncomprehendingly at his son.
“I mean, what if someone had magic, but they didn’t use it to hurt people?”
Silence stretched out and Arthur regretted speaking especially when his father started laughing coldly and said, “I think the events of the last 24 hours have proven that can never be.”
“But-”
“Magic corrupts the mind of even the strongest man, Arthur.” Uther scolded, he placed his knife and fork on the table purposefully. “If ever a person uses magic even for the noblest of causes, it will consume their soul. I’ve seen it happen many times before.”
“You’re right, father.” Arthur said deferentially, ducking his head. Morgana still watched him but she wasn’t staring so hard anymore. “I’m sorry I asked.”
Conversation steered away, but Arthur’s thoughts stayed behind.
He had seen Merlin turn away from the promise of great power and destroy an evil sorcerer with magic. He had seen the power merlin could wield and watched him choose to be a servant instead. But he had also seen the glimmer of desire in Merlin’s eyes when Sigan told of the glory he could offer. Was he still tempted? How long could he go on doing Arthur’s biding before it became too much and the those desires seething in the back of his mind rebelled?
He thought he could trust Merlin, but he had also thought Merlin was the farthest thing from magical. What if his father was right? What if his magic corrupted him? The sharp twist in his stomach made him lose his appetite.
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When he made it back to his room, Merlin was there. His armor laid out on the table to be polished.
“Arthur.” Merlin said, bolting upright from the chair, his hauberk clattered against the table. “I thought you wouldn’t be back until later.”
“I canceled my meeting.” Arthur blew past him to shuffle through some papers on the desk. “Light a fire, would you?”
“Uh huh,” Merlin said. Arthur was going to scold him-that was no way to address his master-but he was distracted by his manservant fumbling with the flint stones. How many times had Arthur come into his room with a fire already roaring in the hearth? Now Merlin couldn’t even hold the flints right?
“Some time today, would be nice.” Arthur said, pretending to be absorbed in the parchment he was reading. He turned his back to his manservant but kept a close eye on him in the reflection in the window.
Merlin tried the flint stones a few more times, but when that didn’t work, he cast a careful glance over his shoulder at Arthur and whispered a few quick words of magic. A fire flared to life in the hearth.
When Merlin stood again, Arthur was facing him, parchment dangling by the very tips of his fingers. He paled to a ghostly white as the silence stretched out between them, certain that this was the moment his secrets were revealed.
But Arthur stayed silent. He didn’t know if he wanted to have this talk yet, or even if he’d know what to say if they did talk. He was still stunned. Seeing his idiot manservant wielding power like that, his deep blue eyes turning a brilliant shining gold for just a moment.
All the breath was pulled out of his lungs slowly until they strained, at the fear he saw in Merlin’s eyes. He turned back around to take a seat at his desk. He heard the huge rush of air that blew out of Merlin in obvious relief. He went back to polishing his armor at the table facing the now sizable fire.
If Arthur looked up, he could see Merlin, the lean line of his neck in the flickering firelight. He found himself looking up lot in the dying hours of the evening.
Merlin was almost finished with the armor when Arthur stood up from his desk. He wandered over to Merlin’s table. The motion was too tense to be called idle.
“Is there something you needed, sire?”
“Hm?” Arthur, looked up placing his hands on his hips in an attempt to stop fidgeting. “Oh, yes. I want to practice for the jousting tournament next week.” Arthur made up quickly, “Inform the knights.”
“Yes, sire.” Merlin nodded dutiful and placed the newly cleaned and polished helmet on the table. “Will that be all?
“For tonight.” Arthur nodded, pacing back to the far side of his bed. Merlin nodded and went to the door.
“Sleep well, sire.”
“Yes.” Arthur waved him away without another glance. Merlin was a few paces into the hallway when he heard Arthur’s booming voice calling him back.
“What is it, Arthur?”
Arthur was sitting in bed now. All the candles were out and his naked torso was illuminated by only the light of the moon. Merlin was more than a little distracted when Arthur spoke, his voice quiet in the gloom.
“I returned the boy to the druids.”
“What?” Merlin stepped closer like he was struggling to hear. But he had heard perfectly well. Arthur was talking about how he’d shown mercy to a sorcerer just a few hours after Merlin had sworn he’d seen him light the fire using magic.
“My father would’ve had him executed but I helped him escape.” Arthur said. “You’re the only one who knows.”
“Yes, sire.”
“I just want you to remember that.” Arthur said, turning over and settling into his mattress. “That will be all.”
“Yes, sire.” Merlin nodded before turning and fleeing from the room.
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The next few days were quiet. Merlin went about his duties as usual and if he was a little more aware of Arthur’s presence in any given room, well neither of them mentioned it.
He couldn’t say why, but every time Arthur looked at Merlin, he felt a swelling in his chest that he decided to classify as anger. And so he piled on as many chores as he could think of to Merlin’s workload, some small manner of revenge. Merlin never complained and he never failed to complete all the tasks, making Arthur somehow more angry and not less. He was just waiting for his manservant to crack, to show some measure of disloyalty but, besides the occasional grumbling and his inability to address Arthur with the proper title, he was…not a model servant because he was still crap, but he was just as good as he had always been.
Arthur wondered how long it would take his magic to corrupt him.