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Chapter Text

The boom of thunder and crackle of lightning overhead were oddly comforting as Arthur stared down at his friend’s face and waited for the end he knew was coming.  Of all the ways he’d ever expected he might die, he’d never imagined it would be like this.  Arthur would never have guessed he’d offer his own life and for a sorcerer no less.

But then, he’d never expected to have a sorcerer be so dear to his heart.

Or to realize what a horribly flawed man he truly was.

--xx--

Two Months Before Camlaan

The circumstances were damning and Merlin knew it, he’d known it from the moment the pendant flashed from white to black with angry swirls of red.  A good bit of theater that, he had to hand it to Morgana.  Even the pendant designed to ‘reveal the presence of a sorcerer’ looked ominous.

There had been an ambush during a mission that few had known about; Arthur, Guinevere, Merlin, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan, and Leon.

Lydia, princess of a small kingdom near the outskirts of Mercia, had come begging sanctuary in Arthur’s court.  She spoke of a plot involving treason, traitors, and a mad scheme to put a wicked sorcerer on the throne in place of her father or brother.  Lydia had barely escaped with her life, or so she claimed, and she begged for safe passage to Bayard's kingdom where her cousin was a high-ranked noble.  The tales she told put sorcery in a dreadful light and involved the use of magic for unspeakable acts against her people.   The princess had a pendant of opaque white which she claimed would darken in the presence of sorcery, and turn completely black when touched by a sorcerer.

Merlin had felt wrong about the whole thing from the start but he’d watched anxiously as his king’s expression darkened.  Another nail in the coffin of any chance of Arthur seeing magic as something other than a tool for evil purpose.  Arthur had, of course, agreed to aid the princess with far too little information.  Merlin had realized quickly enough an enchantment was afoot when everyone, Gaius included, practically fell over themselves to dismiss any reason or logic where Lydia and her story were concerned.  He’d not had time to seek a counter spell or confront Lydia before the mission to sneak to the princess into her cousin's custody had begun.  Arthur and Guinevere, meanwhile, had seemed increasingly under the weather.  While Guinevere was under Gaius’ care, Arthur insisted on riding out with the group sent to deliver Lydia at least until the border despite Gaius and Merlin’s protests.

Then the ambush, the blatant use of sorcery for ill purpose, and the death of Lydia who with her dying breath accused Merlin of sorcery and clutched her pendant towards him.

After which, one of their sorcerous attackers had raised a cry of ‘protect Emrys’ wherein the sorcerers who had just killed Lydia summoned a shield around Merlin.

Gwaine had suffered a deep stab wound to the stomach, Arthur a gash along his shoulder, and Percival an arrow to the leg.  Leon and Elyan were relatively unscathed.  As one of the sorcerers made to attack Arthur, Merlin shouted no and raised his hand to defend his king.  The remaining two of six original sorcerers stopped immediately before Merlin could even cast.

“As you command, my lord Emrys.”  one said, to Merlin’s mortification and confusion.  The sorcerers hadn’t looked like druids, and even if they were, the behavior caught him off guard.

The sorcerers fled and Merlin found himself the recipient of a number of accusing, perplexed gazes that culminated with a single order from Arthur.

“Pick it up.”

“Sire-”  Merlin started as his heart thudded in his chest.

“Pick it up, Merlin.”  Arthur ordered darkly.

With a trembling hand, Merlin picked up the pendant that instantly turned black and swirled with red.  “Arthur, please, let me-”  he started before the butt end of a sword found the back of his head and he was rendered unconscious.

--

A messenger was dispatched to Lydia’s cousin in Bayard's court as well as a warning to Bayard.  Guinevere’s condition had worsened, Arthur refused to rest despite his own increasing illness, and Merlin was put in a cell.  When Arthur demanded of Gaius if he’d known about Merlin and Gaius’ response was a near-immediate attempt to defend Merlin’s character-he had Gaius put under house arrest.  Another physician was summoned to tend the queen and Arthur.

Gwaine was another matter, the knight was at death’s door it seemed.  He’d not woken since the ambush.

The events were kept quiet from the public with only a close few knowing of Merlin’s imprisonment and why.  Arthur summoned Geoffrey to ask about an artifact he’d heard whispers of in his youth from a time when Camelot had still accepted sorcery: a set of manacles that would bind a sorcerer’s power.  After some convincing and a great deal of puttering about, the manacles were produced.

Merlin had woken and been in the cell for a day by that point.  His evening meal was laced with a significant amount of sedative and when he’d passed out, Arthur himself clamped the manacles onto Merlin.  He’d been alarmed when Merlin’s eyes shot open wide with a flare of gold before they went their usual blue.  Merlin seemed to choke for a moment as his hands scrabbled uselessly at the manacles.  His expression was bleary and confused, but no less pained as he realized Arthur was before him and stumbled over his words.  “A-Arthur, please, t-these…you-I-”  he was in so much pain and his mind was foggy, it occurred to him they must have drugged him.

“-Enough.”  Arthur interrupted coolly as he hid the uncomfortable clench in his stomach at the sight of the stammering, visibly pained and disheveled Merlin.  “You have forfeited the use of my name, and any familiarity we had, sorcerer.”

Merlin’s eyes widened with a horrified and hurt expression.  “Ar-Sire-please-”  He realized there was a sickly pallor to Arthur’s complexion and his brow was lined with sweat, his king looked unwell.  Whatever illness had come to Arthur was still present then.

“-I will give you one opportunity to confess.”  Arthur continued as if Merlin hadn’t spoken.

“Confess?”  Merlin croaked, his body felt as though it were burning inside, as if he was being pulled apart from the inside out.

“Don’t play the fool, M-sorcerer.”  Arthur said coldly.  “I have no patience for more of your lies.”

“I wanted to tell you.”  Merlin said instantly in a beseeching tone.  “I never wanted to lie to you.  My magic is for you, I use it only for you-”

“-This is your last chance.”  Arthur interrupted in a tone that chilled Merlin, a tone he’d never heard directed to him before.  “Tell me how to free Guinevere of your spell.  And what you’ve been planning with Morgana.  What did you gain from the princess’ death?”

Merlin stared at his king, dumbfounded.  “I would never hurt Gwen!  And I am not working with Morgana, I have only ever-”

“-She is not Gwen to you, she is the Queen of Camelot.”  Arthur spat even as he swayed on his feet.  “Traitor.”

The word was like a dagger in Merlin’s chest but he hadn’t missed Arthur’s sway.  His own fear and instincts of self-preservation warred with worry for Arthur.  “Sire, you look unwell, Gaius-”

And yet again, Arthur interrupted.  “Your accomplice is under house arrest.  And you clearly have no intention of being honest.  So be it.  I gave you a chance to confess to me.”  he said as he abruptly exited the cell.

Merlin instinctively tried to go after Arthur, but he found himself bound at the ankle by a short chain to the wall.  He staggered to his feet and reached the length of his chain.  “I would never betray you, Arthur!”  he exclaimed desperately.  “You are my king!  I am your friend!”

Arthur sneered and Merlin’s stomach dropped.  “You are nothing to me.”  he said, the coldest barb he could cast in the moment, and with that he stormed out of the cells.  He nearly collapsed as he reached the upper hallway and he forced himself to remain upright.  Arthur couldn't afford to rest or let the depths of his illness be known.  Gwen needed him to be strong, his people needed their king to be a leader.  He had no time to fuss about the rest or indulge in the feelings that held his heart in a vise-like grip.

“You were deceived, Arthur.  It could happen to anyone.”

“Yet it keeps happening to me.  I cared about these people.  I…I don’t understand.  What have I done wrong?  Why do they hate me?”

“No, they don’t hate you.  They just…crave your power for themselves.”

The answer had been right in front of Arthur but he’d not seen it, not from Merlin.  He was supposed to be different against all odds and Arthur’s experience.  Though they shared no blood, Merlin was [Arthur knew deep down though he wouldn’t admit it] like family, a brother even.  Merlin had chosen to stay with Arthur and be loyal when Arthur’s own blood had betrayed him.  He had thought Merlin honest and uncannily brave.  Arthur had admired his devotion and character.  But Merlin had betrayed him and lied to him, he had been hiding in plain sight under Arthur’s nose for years.  Arthur didn’t want to acknowledge how much that in particular hurt.  Merlin had weaseled past his defenses, had wormed his way into Arthur’s esteem and affections, and it had all been false.

--

“I beg of you, sire, reconsider.  You are not well, I believe whatever has afflicted you has caused a kind of madness-”

Arthur’s face, wan and slick with sweat, contorted with fury.  “-Is that your aim, Gaius?  You mean to declare me mad and take me from the throne?”

Gaius’ eyes widened.  “Of course not, sire.  I wish only to help you.”

“And Merlin.”  Arthur spat.

“Yes, he has only ever been loyal to you, sire.  He would never be in league with Morgana, he would never harm you or the queen!”

“I can see where your loyalty lies.”  Arthur said tonelessly.  “You will remain confined until I decide what to do with you.”

“Sire-”  Gaius started after him but Arthur had already gone and the door was barred in his wake.

Guinevere’s condition worsened as she rasped out her breaths, spoke with fevered delirium, and cried from the pain when she was awake.

Arthur, for his part, felt a near-constant fever that caused his thoughts to jumble and left him often nauseous.  One of the felled sorcerers had lived and had, after a bit of persuasion, confessed that Merlin’s true name was Emrys and that he was Morgana’s faithful co-conspirator.  He even revealed that Merlin-or rather, Emrys-had been Dragoon and murdered his father.

The urge to enter Merlin’s cell and cleave his head from his neck was strong in Arthur but he had to think of Gwen and the kingdom.  He needed to know how to end Merlin’s curse, for that was surely what it was, and he needed information on what Merlin had plotted.  With the realization that Merlin had killed Uther any lingering hesitation or pity had left Arthur.

“I didn’t want you to feel alone.”

Merlin had said, right after having murdered Arthur’s own father.  And Arthur had been grateful, he’d even called Merlin a ‘loyal friend’.

Arthur had been a damned fool.  The king was betrayed yet again by someone in his inner circle.  He’d let Merlin be close to him, closer than anyone, and Merlin had betrayed them all.

And he was going to pay for it.

--

Arthur wouldn’t put the task to one of his knights so he summoned a specialist.  A pair of men well-used to extracting information by any means.

“Any limits, sire?”  one asked.

“None.”  Arthur said without hesitation.  “Do whatever you must to get a confession.”  Merlin had been in the cell for nearly two weeks at that point.  Gwaine hadn’t woken, Guinevere was equally laid low, and Arthur hadn’t received a message back from the noble about Lydia.  Gwen was his most pressing concern.  The curse would surely kill her before long and it was imperative Merlin reveal the cure.

The inquisitors sent word through a servant that Merlin wished to speak with Arthur and that-supposedly-the manacles were killing Merlin because he didn’t just have magic.  He was magic, or so he claimed.  

Arthur didn’t believe that for a second but he did wonder if he might finally get an answer out of Merlin so he went.  He found Merlin in a rough-state, worse than he’d ever seen his former manservant, and Arthur’s lip curled at the pleading expression he found on Merlin’s face.  How dare Merlin look at Arthur like he was the one in need, like he was the one betrayed.

“P-Please, sire.”  Merlin begged through a split, bloodied lip.  “I’ve never betrayed you.  I serve only you.”  Arthur said nothing and stared impassively while Merlin continued.  “These cuffs are tearing me apart, I-there’s no separating me from my magic.”  he said as he held the manacles up with shaking hands.  “I’m dying.”  he said, as if that would mean something to Arthur now.

“Your acts will no longer be believed.”  Arthur said dismissively.  “Play the victim all you like.  It changes nothing.”  he saw a stunned look on Merlin’s face as his thin shred of hope diminished.  He looked to the men he’d tasked with gathering information.  “Get me answers, or I’ll find someone who can.”  he said harshly as a wave of pain wracked his skull and he walked stiffly away.  He heard Merlin’s pitiful calls for him to return and rubbed a hand over his face.  Arthur wouldn’t be fooled again.

--

By the middle of Merlin’s third week in prison, Gwaine seemed to have stabilized but hadn’t woken.  Guinevere could barely stay conscious and her breaths were labored at best.  Arthur had been desperate when a pair of druids arrived sent by Iseldir.  He’d been tempted to deny them entry into Camelot at the very least, but Guinevere’s condition and Merlin’s intractability made Arthur unwilling to deny the slight chance they could help.  The druids, Arana and Melinos, claimed to be able to heal Arthur and Guinevere.  Arthur reluctantly took Gaius’ advice in the matter since if nothing else the man seemed to know of sorcery.  Gaius’ demeanor was silently reproachful but after speaking with the druids, he agreed they could likely fix the sickness which they had determined was the product of a curse.  But he’d also told them of Merlin, to Arthur’s irritation, and the druids demanded to see Merlin in exchange for their assistance.  He’d nearly put a sword to their necks but his head felt near to splitting and Guinevere was in no shape to wait.  Arthur agreed and the druids set to work.

Arthur drank their potion after confirming the ingredients himself and fell into a sleep that lasted over a day.  When he awoke, he felt clear-minded for the first time in weeks and muggy memories of what had passed came back to him.  Guinevere had already awoken and he found that rather than relief at Arthur’s awakening, Gwen was all fury and wet-eyed hurt.

“Gwen-”

“-How could you?”  she demanded.  “I-I knew you could be cruel, back then.”  A reference to times Arthur had served Uther’s crusade against magic users.  “But this…”  she trailed off with a tone of disgust.

Arthur had expected a warm reunion with his wife not to be kept at arm’s length upon awakening.  “Is this about Merlin?”  he asked.

Gwen looked aghast at the question.  “Of course it’s about Merlin.  You…you tortured him.”

Arthur’s face scrunched as he tried to fully recall what her statement implied.  He had a hazy memory of the inquisitors, a split-lipped Merlin, and a throbbing pain in his head.  “He cursed us, Guinevere.  He’s a sorcerer.  He’s been playing us for fools all this time.  He’s in league with Morgana-”

“-It’s Merlin!”  Gwen exclaimed, and Arthur was relieved to see her so well despite the circumstances.

“I am aware.”  Arthur said as he fell back on stoicism in the face of an emotional outburst.

Gwen’s expression grew thunderous, she’d been tempestuous at times to start with but her short tenure as queen had brought out a hitherto unseen tenacity and confidence.  “Then how can you do this?”  she demanded.  “What you’ve done-it’s…it’s monstrous, Arthur.”

“And what about what he’s done?”  Arthur snarled back and Gwen looked taken aback as Arthur’s composure slipped.  “He’s lied to us for years.  Committed treason after treason.  He killed my father.”

“What?”

Arthur explained what he’d learned, that Merlin’s ‘true’ name was Emrys and that he’d disguised himself as Dragoon to murder Uther.

“That’s impossible.”  Gwen said with a hint of uncertainty.

“He betrayed us, Gwen.”  Arthur said as his tone softened.  “It wasn’t real.  None of it.  His accomplice confessed, they protected him during the ambush.  An ambush that only a handful knew of.  Why go to all the trouble to frame my manservant?  And Merlin does have magic.  He hid it from us.  If he truly trusted us, saw us as…” Friends went unspoken.  “If he isn’t a traitor, then why the years of lying?”

“He…he had to hide…your father’s laws-”

Arthur’s gaze hardened.  “You know what the penalty for sorcery is, Gwen.  Too well.”  he saw her flinch.  “If his loyalty was genuine, what does it say about what he thought of us that he believed we’d see him burned on a pyre?  Is that trust?”

Gwen swallowed hard as some of her anger fled to be replaced with pain.  “It’s terrifying, Arthur.  Being accused.  The…the uncertainty…if he’s been living with that all of this time…”

“If he was truly our friend he wouldn’t have had to!”  Arthur exclaimed.  “He didn’t trust us!  Because it wasn’t real.  Merlin knew about the route to take Lydia, he had access to our food and drinks, he hid his sorcery, he was…he was enamored of Morgana before.”

“I don’t believe it.”  Gwen said quietly.  “Not of Merlin…and either way, what you’ve done to him…I can’t believe you, Arthur.”

“What are you talking about?”  Arthur finally asked and Gwen frowned.  Before she could reply there was a knock on the door.  An urgent message was provided to Arthur who reviewed it with an expression gone slack.

“What is it?”  Gwen asked.

Arthur struggled to answer.

--

The messenger was sent from Bayard's kingdom where it was made clear there was no princess Lydia.  While the noble she’d named her cousin existed, all of the rest was fabrication.  Even as he read the words, it suddenly all seemed so obvious to Arthur.  He’d never even heard of Lydia’s kingdom before she’d come.  There had indeed been an enchantment at play, one powerful enough to affect all of them, it seemed.

He’d scarcely gotten to consider the implications before the druids sought an audience with him.  If looks could kill, Arthur imagined he’d be dead several times over.  They spoke in words that couched the depths of their disapproval but their disdain was plain enough all the same.  Merlin, or Emrys as they called him, was dying.  And he was no servant of Morgana’s.  Arthur had been tempted to cut them off but Guinevere insisted they listen.  The druids spoke of prophecy, of Emrys and the Once and Future King destined to unite Albion and restore magic to the lands.  He gathered that they believed, or some did, that it was about he and Merlin.  But if anything that only cemented to him that Merlin had been by his side for a purpose and not genuine loyalty.

They repeated the belief that Merlin was essentially made of magic and that the cuffs were killing him.  And that what Arthur had done to Emrys would only be borne because Emrys wished it so.  That got his attention.

“Is that a threat?”  Arthur demanded.

Melinos radiated dislike as he regarded Arthur with a cool gaze.  “I speak the simple truth.  Emrys should be revered and what you have done is unspeakable.  The only saving grace is that you were under a curse and there may yet be hope that you are not beyond redemption.”

Arthur scoffed at their audacity.  “Who are you to speak to me that way?  I am the King of Camelot.”

“You are a mortal man who sits the throne at Emrys’ pleasure.”  Melinos retorted and Arana gave her companion a sharp look.

“Melinos!”

“You assisted the queen and I, for that, I will overlook what you’ve just said.  But I want you out of Camelot by nightfall.”  Arthur said coolly and Guinevere at his side frowned deeply.

--

Arthur discovered Guinevere had ordered the inquisitors away but she’d been unable to reverse his orders regarding Merlin and Gaius.  Merlin’s situation seemed to have made the rounds among their circle to mixed opinion.  Percival, to Arthur’s surprise, seemed reticent to condemn Merlin.  Elyan was mistrustful, no doubt recalling his father’s trip to the pyre and wondering at Merlin’s role.  Leon agreed with Arthur that Merlin had needed to be imprisoned and questioned, but after some coaxing made it plain he disagreed with Arthur’s methods.

Arthur still hadn’t gone to see Merlin, to see what the inquisitors had done that had gotten Gwen so riled.  He went instead to Gaius and offered the man a chance to explain his ward’s actions.

Gaius made it plain in his demeanor that Arthur was far from his favorite person at present, but he did recount Merlin’s tales to the best of his abilities.  He spoke of a Merlin who protected Arthur in secret, who’d had a heavy destiny thrust upon him, who was devoted to Arthur and Camelot.  A boy who’d grown up with magic and had to hide himself all his life.  When Gaius had said his piece, Arthur shook his head.

“No man is that noble.  You claim Merlin is that powerful but he condescends to be my manservant willingly?  That he’s given up everything to serve me?  This isn’t a fae-tale, Gaius.”

Gaius’ lips tightened with disapproval.  “Merlin cares for you, sire, dearly.  He has only ever looked out for your best interests.”

“He lied to me.”  Arthur said bluntly.

“He feared his life would be forfeit if he did not.  And with all due respect…have you not proven he had reason to fear?”

Arthur’s expression darkened.  “We still don’t know who cast the curse or sent ‘Lydia’.  Merlin was in a perfect position to arrange both.  And you would question my judgment in interrogating him?”

“Interrogation would be far kinder than you’ve done.  Sire.”  The title was added almost reluctantly before his expression grew pained.  “If you do not remove those cuffs, Merlin will die.  I beg of you, sire.  Leave him imprisoned if you must while you…investigate the circumstances.  But please release him from the manacles.”

“So he can turn his sorcery on us again?”  Arthur asked and Gaius looked frustrated.

“You know Merlin, you know he would never act against you.”

“I thought I did.”  Arthur admitted.  “But I never really knew him at all.”

--

Arthur knew all the same he had to reach a decision so he called a council of those who’d been at the ambush, save Gwaine, as well as Gaius and Guinevere.  He allowed Gaius to recount the events he had previously, despite Gaius’ obvious impatience as he wanted more than anything for Arthur to release Merlin.  Arthur expected more skepticism, but following the tale, Guinevere’s eyes had grown wet, Elyon’s expression was guilt-ridden, and Percival had already seemed sympathetic.  Leon, at least, seemed level-headed about the matter.

“There’s no denying Merlin committed treason.”  Arthur started and was met with several frowns.  “Were it that alone, this might be a different matter.  But sorcery was used in this court against the queen and I, and others.”

“You heard Gaius!”  Gwen exclaimed.  “Merlin has done nothing but protect you-protect Camelot-since he arrived!”

“So he claims.”  Arthur said and Gaius gave him a sharp look.  “Merlin is like a son to you, Gaius.  And I still wonder at the extent of your participation in all of this.”  That earned him a number of uncomfortable gazes as he hinted at insinuating Gaius might also have held a role.

“It stands true that sorcery is illegal and Merlin has committed treason.”  Leon said quietly.  “He deceived us-our king-all of this time.”

“Can you blame him?”  Gwen asked.

“Guinevere.”  Elyan snapped at his sister.  “There is no excuse for lying to the king.”  The siblings shared a glare while Arthur exhaled heavily.

“Lydia was false.  This was all a plot.  There had to be a goal to it.”  Percival pointed out.

“Perhaps to sow discord between the king and his most ardent protector.”  Gaius said pointedly.

“Most ardent deceiver.”  Arthur corrected under his breath.

“If what Gaius says is true…Merlin’s been…well…he’s our only defense against…”  Percival made a vague gesture that seemed to indicate ‘magic’.

“I survived magic all my life prior to Merlin’s arrival.  If that changed after his arrival, maybe it’s worth wondering why.”  Arthur pointed out and Gaius shot his king a disapproving look.

“If-”

The discussion was interrupted as a servant knocked and informed Arthur that Hunith of Ealdor and Iseldir sought an audience over an urgent matter.

Gaius gave Arthur a meaningful look and the king fought a grimace at what was surely impending.  After a moment’s thought, he dismissed everyone from the room save Leon and ordered Hunith and Iseldir to be brought in.  Gwen protested but ultimately had no choice and Arthur waited as his ‘guests’ arrived.

Arthur expected either anger or begging, neither of which he wanted to face.  Sure enough, Hunith almost immediately dropped to her knees and Arthur hid a wince.

“There’s no need-”  he started, but Hunith cut him off as she began to plead.  The woman looked worse for wear and Arthur felt a stab of guilt at the sight of her.  He’d liked the woman, she’d been strong and kind, and made Arthur wonder what his own mother might have been like.  Her open grief and dishevelment brought him no pleasure.

“-Your majesty.”  Hunith said from the floor on her knees where Iseldir watched her with an expression of open pity.  “I-I know my son has broken Camelot’s laws, but I beg you to understand.  He was born with his gifts.  Merlin never asked for them, and h-he-”  Hunith broke off as her voice hitched and Arthur had never been good with women crying.  Or crying at all, really, or emotional displays.

“A king must never show his weaknesses, and that is all feelings are.  Sentiment makes a poor ruler, Arthur.”  Uther said firmly.  “You must never let your personal feelings interfere with rule.”

Ironic, then, that his father had started the Purge over sentiment.

“Hunith, please rise.”  Arthur said, his voice gentler than it had been in some time.  When she seemed unwilling he rose and gently helped the woman to her feet.

“You are a good man.”  Hunith said earnestly as she searched Arthur’s face and clasped her hand over his upper arm as no mere peasant ought to do.  But it didn’t even cross Arthur’s mind.  All he saw was a woman wracked with grief, fear, and worry.  “A good king.”  she added.  “My son adores you, sire.  All that he does, he does for you.  He hid his gifts from you, but he would never use them against you.”

Arthur had held firm against Guinevere’s emotional words in part because he had the sight of her at death’s door in bed to keep in mind.  When he might have softened to Merlin, he recalled the rattle of Guinevere’s breath and the very real fear that his wife would die because he’d been fool enough to trust a sorcerer.  That, held with the memory of Merlin’s false condolences on his father.  Gaius had sworn up and down that Merlin had only tried to help Uther but that made no sense.  What self-respecting magic user would risk using magic to save a king who’d only persecute them?

“He did it for you.”  Gaius had answered and Arthur hadn’t replied.

But the sight of Hunith brought back memories of Ealdor.  The sight of the grieving mother and woman slipped past the compartmentalization Arthur had been attempting.  Merlin wasn’t just his manservant, or a sorcerer, he was a son.  “I have reason to believe he killed my father under the guise of healing him.”  Arthur said stiffly as he stepped back from Hunith, he heard her gasp as her eyes widened.

“He would never!”  she protested vehemently.

“Why would Merlin save a man who would put him to a pyre?”  Arthur asked.

“Because Merlin is good, and because the late king is your father.  He’d do anything for you, sire.”  Hunith said sincerely.

“He lied to me.”  Arthur pointed out and Hunith’s expression tightened with something too close to sympathy for Arthur for Arthur’s liking.  “He’s done nothing but lie for years.  He either had a motive or he didn’t trust me, perhaps both.  What sort of man is that?”  He saw Hunith flinch but her resolve didn’t waver.

“If I may.”  Iseldir interjected and Arthur’s gaze flicked to the man.  “Your faith in Merlin has broken because of falsehoods he told you.”

“Exactly.”  Arthur said as he steeled himself, glad for a reprieve from focusing on Hunith’s emotional expressions.

“You cannot see how any of what passed between you could be honest, knowing that he lied, knowing that he never willingly told you of a secret he held so close.”

Arthur frowned and shifted uncomfortably.  “I don’t need you to tell me what I think.”

“It’s only-…if I may be so bold…were Uther Pendragon here, Merlin would be dead already.  He would speak only of the sorcery and the laws broken.”

The mention of what his father would do made Arthur tense and he narrowed his eyes.  “What of it?”

“Your response seems to me less that of a king faced with a criminal, and more that of a man who feels betrayed by one he considered a friend.”  Iseldir chanced.

Arthur froze and then his expression grew angry.  “You presume too much.”  he snapped.  “I am the king, everything I do is the act of one.”

But Iseldir’s words rang true in his mind.  There had been practical reasons to interrogate Merlin but…time and again when speaking of Merlin, Arthur had kept coming back to the fact that Merlin had lied.  The sorcery, he realized, offended him less than the realization Merlin had hidden it all the while and lied to Arthur’s face about it.

His friend hadn’t trusted him and had believed Arthur would burn him alive.

And so how could Merlin really be a friend at all?

“Even a king can be moved to emotional actions-”

“-Not another word.”  Arthur warned even as Hunith tried to intercede.

“Please, sire.”  Hunith pleaded.  “Merlin has done only good for you.  Iseldir can prove it."

“Prove it?”  Arthur repeated and Iseldir inclined his head.

“There is a way, if Merlin consents, to show you the contents of his memory.  You may see for yourself if he has done what he stands accused of.”

“More magic.”  Arthur said with distaste and Iseldir inclined his head again.

“If nothing else-”  Iseldir reasoned.  “-It would benefit you to know if Merlin was the cause of your misfortune, or if you must seek another to take that blame.”

And with that, Iseldir had handed Arthur a logical, kingly reason to seek Merlin’s memories.  But it was still illegal, it was still overreaching, it was still-

…Something Arthur knew he wouldn’t be able to go without the assurance of.  He needed to know, and so Arthur ordered the prisoner be brought to the throne room.  Leon remained and Arthur intended for Hunith to leave but she begged to see Merlin and Arthur found himself unwilling to deny her that.

He anticipated a Merlin who would be worse for wear.  Bruised, perhaps blood-stained in dirty clothes, dehydrated even.  Arthur supposed Merlin might have had a wrist broken or a dislocated shoulder.  He recalled that he’d given the inquisitors free reign [admittedly while he’d been less than fully cognizant] but he didn’t expect Merlin to be terribly damaged.  Arthur also didn’t really believe that nonsense about the manacles killing Merlin.  He’d never heard of such a thing and suspected it was just a way to see Merlin freed.  Arthur braced himself for the sight of Merlin and reminded himself that no matter what Merlin blubbered or how he entreated…it didn’t mean anything.  He’d thought Merlin sincere before and now knew Merlin had done nothing but lie to him.  Merlin could give the appearance of sincerity easily and so how was Arthur to put any stock in it now?

But the sight of Merlin as he came, half-carried on either side by guards, knocked the breath from Arthur’s lungs.

The first thing he took notice of was how weak Merlin seemed as he wasn’t able to walk on his own power.  Merlin’s head was all but limp on his shoulders as he slowly tilted his face towards Arthur.  The king barely refrained from a choked noise at the sight.  Merlin’s left eye was clouded and red in a way that made Arthur almost certain he’d lost sight in it.  One of Merlin’s little fingers was missing.  There was a bruise around Merlin’s neck that Arthur could only guess came from something being tightened there.  His face was swollen and bruised, and his wrist hand hung limply as though his wrist were indeed broken.

“Merlin!”  Hunith cried and the sound sliced through Arthur as he stared at his frie-at the sorcerer-in barely hidden horror.  “My boy, oh my boy…”  she began to cry as she went straight to Merlin.  The guards seemed ready to push her back, and perhaps drop Merlin in so doing, and Arthur quickly shook his head.  Hunith began to touch and caress Merlin who looked at her with little expression, Arthur wasn’t sure how aware Merlin even was, he didn’t seem very present.

The look on Iseldir’s face as he took in the sight of Merlin and then looked to Arthur was bad enough.  But as Hunith looked back at him all the hope and faith had gone from her face.  The kind eyes looked on Arthur as though he were indeed something monstrous and Arthur felt lower than he could ever recall feeling.

“He will soon be dead if the manacles aren’t removed.”  Iseldir said calmly despite the look in his eyes that made Arthur certain he’d lost any respect the man ever held for him.

“You’d have me return his powers now?”  Arthur asked numbly, rather than let show the sickening feelings of remorse and regret that were washing over him.

And if it was possible, Hunith looked even more disturbed at that.  “He will die if you don’t.”  she said lowly with no title.

Arthur saw the remaining clear, blue eye of Merlin slowly swivel his direction and Arthur swallowed hard.  He saw nothing of Merlin’s feelings there, whatever they might be.

“I’m happy to serve you till the day I die."

Bile rose in Arthur’s throat and he nearly staggered under the sudden weight of what he’d done.  He’d let this happen-ordered it to happen-to Merlin.

But Merlin was a traitor, a sorcerer.

But what if he’d only used his powers for Arthur?

What if he had killed Uther and was working with Morgana?

What if he wasn’t?

Arthur couldn’t just remove the manacles though, not without knowing.  He couldn’t ask for Merlin’s word either, even were he fit to give it, because the trust between them had been lost.

He never really trusted me.  Arthur thought bitterly even as it seemed to confirm Iseldir’s observation that what truly upset Arthur was a friend’s perceived betrayal.

“Show me his memories.”  Arthur ordered and Hunith’s eyes widened even as Iseldir seemed faintly stunned.  From the corner of his eye he saw that Leon, who had been silent till that point, stared openly at Arthur with disbelief.  Even Leon thought he was being excessive then?  But how could he, in good conscience, release Merlin without being sure?

“Time is of the essence.”  Iseldir said quietly.  “And without his consent-”

“-…ent…”

The partial word was rasped, little better than a pained whisper and all eyes went to Merlin.

“I…con…consent…”  Merlin mumbled as he brushed trembling fingers against his mother’s arm.

Arthur felt ill at the sound of Merlin’s voice, no longer cheery and energetic but completely diminished.

Iseldir stared at Merlin before he sighed quietly.  “So be it.”

--

The ritual was readied as the guards were sent out along.  Hunith sat at Merlin’s side where he was slumped in a chair next to her and seemed barely able to stay awake.

“How will you know what…memories to show me?”  Arthur asked.

“The Goddess will reveal what must be shown.”  Iseldir replied as he finished mixing into a small goblet.

Arthur stared at the mixture before he took a sip and Iseldir helped Merlin to do likewise.

Then Arthur waited for the truth.

--xx--

Three Weeks Before Camlaan  

Arthur stood stiffly before Merlin who stared at him with an expression that may as well have been carved from stone.

“You’re asking for my help?”  Merlin repeated quietly as his hands clenched in his blanket.  He still spent much time abed as he recovered from his time in the cell.

Arthur had wanted to order someone else to ask, or to send Gwen, but he knew that was cowardly of him.  He had to do at least this much.  And besides…Arthur was all but isolated since Merlin’s release and the revelations of what had been done to Merlin.  As well as what Merlin had done for Arthur and Camelot.  That Arthur hadn’t intended the level of torture Merlin underwent wasn’t the point.  Arthur had instigated it, allowed it, been responsible for it.  He’d nearly killed Merlin through his own ignorance and while there was some argument to be made that he couldn’t just take a sorcerer who’d been a proven liar at face value…what happened was unjust.  Even for a king.  “…Yes.”

Merlin stared at Arthur before he let out a sharp, mirthless laugh.  The juxtaposition between the Merlin he remembered and the one before him made Arthur’s stomach twist.  “Why would I ever help you now?”  he asked incredulously.

Arthur had the urge [not for the first time] to drop to his knees and beg Merlin’s forgiveness.  To let fly everything he’d never spoken aloud, to attempt to explain himself, to apologize profusely and try to put into words what Merlin meant to him.  How much he valued Merlin and regretted what happened.  How deeply he wished he could take it back, that he’d never meant it to go so far.

But Arthur fell back on instinct as he maintained a royal demeanor.  “Camelot-”

“-Hang Camelot.”  Merlin spat as he sneered at Arthur with his now mismatched eyes.  “I don’t owe you a damn thing, Arthur.”

I know.  And I am so sorry, Merlin.  The words didn’t pass Arthur’s lips. “Regardless of your feelings towards me-” he heard Merlin scoff.  “-You care for the people.  For Gwen and-”

Merlin’s eyes flared gold and Arthur took a step back with a clench of fear.  The younger man paused and then gave a self-satisfied smirk.  “At least you have sense enough to be afraid.”

The words hung between them as Arthur felt his heart thud in his chest and Merlin stared at him with a gaze that Arthur couldn’t help but find eerie.  I don’t want this.  I never wanted this.  Arthur wanted to scream.  I am so sorry, Merlin, please forgive me.

Arthur had offered apologies and explanations in his own stilted way after the truth had been revealed and Merlin had recovered enough to see him.  But Merlin had alternated between chilling coldness, heated fury, and what seemed liked loathing to Arthur.  There had been a couple of moments where Arthur wondered if Merlin would honestly kill him.

Guinevere slept in another wing of the palace and all but refused to speak to Arthur outside of courtly matters.  Percival and Elyan seemed content to avoid Arthur as much as possible.  Gaius was curt at best while Leon was at least…perhaps the least offended by Arthur’s presence.

Arthur had been shown a number of memories, and not just of their recent history.  He’d seen Merlin as a boy using accidental magic to Hunith’s worry.  Arthur saw a lonely Merlin with only Will for company.  He saw Merlin’s first sight on arriving in Camelot being an execution.  And he saw the many, many ways Merlin had saved him over the years.  Not everything he saw was positive, but even the questionable things Merlin had done ate at him.  That was a consequence of Merlin’s memory sharing he’d not been warned of.  Arthur felt vicariously what Merlin had felt.  And what Merlin felt involved a great deal of fear, anguish, loneliness, weariness, and resignation.

What he’d not expected was the depths of Merlin’s good feelings or the hidden sacrifices Merlin had made.  He felt Merlin’s feelings as he saw from Merlin’s perspective when Arthur had given him Ygraine’s sigil.  The genuine devotion and love there, the protectiveness, the admiration and respect.

And then came the memories of his time imprisoned.  Arthur wanted to escape them but he couldn’t leave the memories on his own, he would see whatever the ritual demanded.  He saw and felt Merlin’s plight as the manacles poisoned his very being.  As Arthur ‘abandoned’ him, as he was tortured.

What wrenched Arthur’s heart from his chest was when a feverish Arthur had dismissed Merlin’s pleading and walked away.  Merlin had been hopeful, even still, until that moment.  That moment crushed something in Merlin and it only grew worse from there.

When he’d come out of it, Arthur had been nearly catatonic with the weight of it all.  He’d fumbled for the key in his pocket to release Merlin as he, with wet eyes, babbled apologies at Merlin.  The other man had quickly gone unconscious as his magic began to return to him and Arthur ordered him taken to Gaius.  Hunith had slapped him in the face so hard she’d drawn blood on his cheek with a nail and Arthur barely blinked, he said nothing but stared at Hunith morosely.

“I am sorry.”  Arthur whispered.

“It will never be enough.”  Hunith said, still with a look in her eyes that made Arthur feel every bit the vile monster he clearly seemed to be.

Merlin had been able to rouse Gwaine with magic once he’d healed more.  Gwaine had been tempted to challenge Arthur to a duel from what he’d later gathered but Merlin had stopped that.  While others came and went, Arthur was through unspoken agreement not to enter Gaius’ rooms or go near Merlin.

When he was finally told he could see Merlin if he wished, he found a stranger with Merlin’s face.  There was nothing of Merlin in the way he spoke and looked at Arthur.  The king tried to offer apologies and explanations but Merlin shut him down.  Merlin simply wanted to know if he was free to leave when he was able and Arthur could do nothing but say ‘yes’.  The younger man had dismissed him after that and Arthur went away reeling.

But the battle at Camlaan approached and there had been warnings by way of the druids.  It amounted to the fact that if ‘Emrys’ didn’t fight, Camelot would fall and Albion would be lost.

Arthur knew that Merlin most likely knew that by way of Gaius at least but he still had to try to ask.  Even if it was the last thing he wanted.  He knew it was audacious of him to ever ask Merlin for anything again.  But there was no choice, not with the kingdoms at stake.  Merlin was the only one with the power to save them and that was it’s own difficult potion to swallow.  “I wouldn’t ask if there were any other way.”  he finally said.

Merlin’s lips maintained their sneer.  “Magic is still illegal in Camelot.  You want me to openly wield my power to defend it?”

“I-”  Arthur started and stopped before he pressed on.  “-It…is my intention to…legalize magic.  It can’t happen overnight, but-”

“-It will.”  Merlin interrupted suddenly with a calculating look in his eyes.  “If you want my help, it will.”

Arthur’s eyes widened slightly.  “I can’t just overturn his laws in an instant!  There would be revolts, dissension form both the nobles and the peasantry-”

“-There won’t be a kingdom anyway if I don’t aid you.  So my price is a moot point.”  Merlin asked before he considered it and added.  “And you have to ask me properly.”

“What?”

“You want Emrys to help you.  You want magic to save you after you’ve done nothing but scorn it.  So beg for my aid, Arthur.”  The way I begged for yours.

Merlin didn’t speak the words but Arthur felt them implied all the same.  He’d begged for mercy and been denied.  Arthur had left him to suffer.

Guilt stilled his tongue and he choked out.  “I’m the king-”

“-Not my king.”  Merlin thundered and Arthur felt the words like a blow as Merlin well and truly severed their ties.  "You are nothing to me."  he said as he repeated Arthur's own words back to him.  “If you want my help, Arthur Pendragon, beg me for it.”

Arthur stared at the man he’d been so close to for nearly a decade.  The insolent boy who’d become his dearest friend.  Who Arthur had repaid with cruelty.  A king should never be to his knees before any man, he should never beg, never admit fault, never prostrate himself to another.

But he slowly got down to his knees and then went as far as to put his palms to the floor as he bowed his head.  “Please help me, Merlin…I’m…I beg you.”  he said as he looked back up at Merlin.  Arthur thought he saw a flash of surprise before it was gone.

Merlin let the silence hang between them a moment before he replied coolly.  “I will save Camelot, provided you legalize magic.”  he agreed.

Arthur felt a flood of relief as he stared to rise but Merlin had more to say.

“If you try to go back on your word, Arthur, you won’t like the consequences.”  Merlin warned lowly.

The instinct to pull rank and respond defensively rose in Arthur and he tamped it down as he let misery settle over him instead as Merlin more or less threatened him.  “I won’t.”  he said quietly.

Merlin stared hard at Arthur for a moment with obvious scrutiny, but what he was looking for and whether he found it, Arthur wasn’t sure.  The younger man settled back in his pillows and closed his eyes, and Arthur took the dismissal for what it was with a heavy heart.

--xx--

Camlaan

Arthur stared over the battlefield and remembered Iseldir’s warning.  That destiny had been altered, that things were not as they should be.  He had no idea how that was even possible, how could Arthur have against something that was ‘destined’?

But he had no choice, he could only proceed.  Arthur fought and watched as Merlin, or rather Emrys, rained lightning from the skies in a terrible display of power that left him both fearful and in awe.

That was the man Arthur had once been gifted with unequivocal loyalty from.

The man he’d all but broken.

--

Arthur had tried to approach Merlin privately before the battle.  He’d wanted to try once more to make some kind of amends just in case.  Arthur fumbled over an apology as he tried to find the right words to explain what was in his heart but Merlin cut him off.  He told Arthur not to waste his breath, nor Merlin’s time.

“Try not to get killed, Pendragon.”  Merlin had said.  Never ‘Arthur’ or ‘sire’ anymore, always ‘Pendragon’ and impersonal with no respect or affection.

Arthur wasn’t sure if that was motivated by some sliver of concern, or for convenience, or if it was a warning that Merlin would no longer come to his aid.  “Be careful, Merlin.”  he said in reply, and again Merlin had seemed just a touch surprised before his expression grew inscrutable and closed off once more.

“They can do nothing worse than you’ve done.”  Merlin retorted before he turned his back on Arthur and walked away.

Arthur tried to muscle past the wound that gave his heart.

--

Then the unthinkable happened as Mordred and Morgana teamed up against Merlin.  Somehow, Merlin still hadn’t been quite right from his time in the cell.  He still hadn’t quite recovered, or found his footing from where he’d been.  Perhaps that was why he faltered and why Mordred’s blade found him.

Arthur saw at a distance and ran towards the fallen Merlin.  He wasn’t sure where Mordred and Morgana had gone, but they seemed sure that Merlin was dead or soon would be.  Arthur skidded to Merlin’s side with his left arm gone limp at his side, he’d lost a fair bit of blood himself but his focus was on Merlin.  He gingerly pulled the other man against the cradle of his chest with his good arm.  “Merlin…Merlin!”

A pair of mismatched eyes opened and Arthur gave a shuddering exhale in relief.

“You’ll be alright.”  he said quickly.  “Iseldir will have seen-he’ll be here-he can heal you-”

“-Ar…thur…”  Merlin croaked and Arthur’s heart stuttered at Merlin’s weakened voice and the use of his name.   “Too…late…”

“No.”  Arthur said through a lump in his throat.  “No, you’ll see.”  he said as he scanned around wildly but saw no sign of any of the druids that had agreed to fight.  Arthur looked back at Merlin as he gripped Merlin to his chest and blink rapidly against the sudden wetness in his eyes.

“I’..m…s’ry…”  Merlin slurred and Arthur’s heart sank.

“Shh.”  Arthur shushed him lightly.  “You’ll be fine, just hold on, Merlin.  I’ve got you.  We’ll get you healed and-”

“-W’s…y..our f-frie…nd.”  Merlin coughed.  “Ne..ver…b-betr…ayed you.”

Arthur wasn’t sure if Merlin was in another place mentally because he couldn’t understand why Merlin would say this now.  Of course Merlin hadn’t betrayed him and what did Merlin think he had to apologize for?  Merlin was the one who deserved apologies.  “I know.”  he said softly.  “You…you were always better than I deserved.”

Something like a smile curled on the edges of Merlin’s blood-stained lips as he gave a wheezing sort of chuckle.  “Pr’..bly..”  he made a pained noise and Arthur looked about helplessly, but they were alone, and there would be no use in trying to carry Merlin in their mutual conditions.  Arthur hadn’t realized there were tears on his cheeks until Merlin squinted and said.  “No man…w’th…y-your t’rs.”

“No man is worth your tears.”  Arthur had told him without knowing Merlin’s father had died, he knew now though and it was just another thing to regret.  The slurred words made the tears fall harder and Arthur didn’t know why now of all times when he needed to be strong his damned body decided to betray him.  And yet, Merlin seemed somehow pleased by them, almost teasing.  Arthur wanted to say something that would at least come close to getting across to Merlin how he felt, what the other man meant to him, how much Merlin’s support carried Arthur through the years.

“...But a brother is.”  Arthur said softly as he scanned Merlin’s face and saw the younger man’s eyes briefly widen.  “I never told you.  And I figured you wouldn’t know.  Giving someone the sigil of your house it’s…it’s a claim of kinship…I…you…” he trailed off and never had he been more frustrated at his own inability to speak his feelings plainly.  But Merlin, blessed Merlin, as always seemed to understand Arthur better than he understood himself.

A look like wonder, one Arthur never thought to see on Merlin’s face again, stole over the warlock’s expression.

“Br…other…”  Merlin repeated, and Arthur wasn’t sure if it was a question, or a surprise, or anything else for that matter.  He seemed to struggle with something as he fumbled weakly for Arthur’s arm and dug his fingers into it.  “A…Arthur…”  he started before he began a coughing fit.

“Merlin?  Merlin, stay with me!  Please!  You-no!”  Merlin’s head lolled to the side as he went limp in Arthur’s arms.  Any attempt to rouse the other man failed and Arthur stared at him in disbelief.  He couldn’t be dead.  Merlin couldn’t be gone.

Arthur wasn’t sure how many minutes passed before Iseldir found him.  The sight of Merlin drew him up short and Arthur’s head whipped up to the other man.  “Save him.”  he croaked.  “Help him.  Please.”

Iseldir’s expression was sorrowful.  “He is already gone.”

“No…no…there must be something…he…he’s needed.  He can’t die here.”  Arthur said as though trying to convince Iseldir.  “There must be something.”  he repeated.

“The cost to bring back Emrys now would be too high.”  Iseldir explained.

Arthur’s eyes widened.  “Then it can be done?”

“No.  As I said, the cost-”

“-What is the cost?”  Arthur demanded.  “What do you need?  I’ll get it, I’ll-”

“-A life for a life.”  Iseldir said.  “But not just any life, one worth the price of Emrys himself.”

“Who?”  Arthur asked roughly even as he had a feeling he knew.

“...The Once and Future King himself.”

Arthur stared at the druid before he looked to Merlin.  He thought of what had passed and what would come without Merlin to turn the tides of battle.  Arthur thought about his own futile contributions.  He thought of the way he’d been ostracized after Merlin’s imprisonment and his own self-doubts about his character after what he’d done.  Merlin was good and Merlin was truly powerful.  He could do what Arthur couldn’t and moreover he deserved to live his own life and have a chance to flourish.  Merlin was only dead because of Arthur’s mistakes, this was Arthur’s doing, and Merlin shouldn’t have to pay for Arthur’s failings.

“Do it.”  Arthur said thickly and Iseldir looked genuinely astonished.

“But-”

“-You need him.”  Arthur said in lieu of confessing his own feelings on the subject.  “We’re all doomed without Merlin anyway.  Magic is legalized.  Gwen will make…an admirable queen.  Merlin will help her.  I’m not…I’m not needed.” he said the last bit quietly and pushed aside the pang in his chest as he brushed his hand over Merlin’s face and trailed his fingertips through Merlin’s hair.

“That isn’t true.”  Iseldir said and Arthur laughed bitterly.

“Spare me the platitudes, Iseldir.”  Arthur said as he offered the man a crooked, self-deprecating grin.  “I’m under no illusions about my importance in all of this.  The world needs Merlin.  And Merlin deserves to live.”

“...So do you.”  Iseldir said softly and Arthur looked at him in surprise before his gaze softened.

“Well…I’m glad you think so.”  Arthur offered lightly before he inclined his head towards Merlin.  “I won’t change my mind.  Please.”  he added.

Iseldir considered the pair and then knelt down beside them.  “You are sure this is what you wish, King Arthur?”

Arthur swallowed hard and then nodded.  “Save Merlin.”  he said firmly, without hesitation in his conviction.

Iseldir studied Arthur before he placed a hand on both men.  “Then, if the Goddess wills it.”  he said.

When the spell had begun to fulfill the task, Arthur felt his strength sapping.  He could barely keep himself upright and eventually collapsed on the ground beside Merlin.  Arthur found it harder and harder to draw in his breaths and he struggled to set his hand on Merlin’s chest and clench it in the man’s shirt.  “T-Tell him I’m…sorry.”  Arthur rasped.  “That he was…the bravest man I ever knew…”

Iseldir’s eyes were kind as he regarded Arthur.  “I will.”  he said, as Arthur’s golden life force flowed into Merlin.

Arthur offered a weak smile of gratitude at Iseldir before his gaze fell to Merlin.  He tilted his head forward with great effort to press his forehead against the side of Merlin’s chin.  “Thank you, old friend.”  he whispered to the unconscious Merlin.

Arthur felt the beat of his heart slow and his eyes began to close.  He thought, just before they closed completely, that he saw Merlin open two perfectly blue eyes.

And then Arthur, King of Camelot, breathed his last.