Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Arthur," Merlins shouts, causing Arthur to look away from the bandit he is fighting momentarily.

He follows Merlins line of sight to the new wave of bandits breaking the tree line. Hell, fleeing might have been a better plan than this. He runs the man he's fighting with through, ducking a wayward swing of another man's blade. He clashes swords with a thug that was on their way to sneaking up on Gwaine from behind. He bests him easily, turning back to see how his friends are fairing.

Not very well would be an understatement, he counters a strike meant for Percival, nodding back as his fellow Knight nods in gratitude. A shout of pain makes his blood run cold.

Merlin.

He whips around, not being able to see his manservant from where he is. He winces when he sees a blade catch Elyan's shoulder. The other man counters the blow, disarming and slashing the danger, holding his arm protectively. 

Arthur opens his mouth to call to Merlin when a wave hits him. A force that could be mistaken for warm air if it hadn't been accompanied by a sharp electric crackle pinching his skin, similar to the air on a stormy night. Arthur covers his face, from the feeling before he hears another sound.

Bodies falling.

Arthur whips his head up, mentally locating all of his Knights to note who has fallen. To his surprise, not one of his men have been taken, just the bandits lay lifeless around them. He looks at Leon but Leon is looking at someone else.

Merlin

Merlin has dropped to his knees, the-the magic pulsating around him for a few short second before it disappears back into him. Arthur feels sick. He sees Merlin glance up at them just in time to see his blue eyes return from a bright gold.

Arthur swallows, his shock dying down leaving betrayal in its wake. His check tightens and his fists clench and unclench by his sides. This can't be right, there has to be another explanation. Merlin. His Merlin can't be a sorcer. Merlin, who has stood firm beside him when all else fails. Merlin, who has been an ear to listen to Arthur as he talks about the evil of sorcery and the betrayal of everyone close to him. Merlin, who has made him believe in himself and his ability as king. Merlin, who is his friend. His best friend. 

Merlin, who has lied time and time again just like everybody else.

"What ub the great horses pants was that?" Gwaine's voice cuts through his pain, his humour still in full force despite the clearly uncovered betrayal that has been laid out before them.

"That, is what I would like to know," Arthur grinds out, his voice betraying his anguish and upset, he can't look towards Merlin but he also can't look away.

Movement to his right catches his eye and he sees Lancelot surge forward and offer his hand to Merlin. His hand to a sorcerer. Arthur doesn't quite understand why everyone not taking this like he is.

Magic has been the driving force against Camelot for his entire life. His life has been endangered by more sorcerers than he can count. His knights have followed him in his fight AGAINST magic unyielding. What makes now so different?

He ignores the small voice in the back of his head reminding him that this is Merlin. Their Merlin. 

Arthur flinches, raising his weapon when Merlin stumbles to his feet, his hands grasping his side as a small sound of pain escapes his lips. His walls almost crumble at the sound, the urge to rush to Merlin to see if he's alright strong, but he straightens instead. He hides behind his mask of indifference that was taught to him long ago. One that's been cracked and broken with years of disuse.

Merlin is staring at the ground, his shoulders hunched in apprehension. One of his hands is stained with blood from the notable injury on his side while the other is anxiously ringing the bottom of his shirt. His eyes move to meet his briefly and Arthur can see fear shining there where humour had been merely an hour prior.

"I-i'm-" Merlin stutters, stumbling over his words.

Merlin does a lot of things but he doesn't stutter. His words are always clear, clean and thought through as they fly from his mouth. A display of having been brought up knowing how to speak properly to people higher born than him. Something that Merlin actively chooses to ignore for the sake of funny quips and sharp digs. 

The thought of Merlin's carefree smile as he calls him "dollop head" or "turnip brain" or "clotpole" sends a seething rage burning through him.

Arthur grabs Lancelot roughly, pushing the unwilling Knight behind him, "Save it," he sneers, his glare could break glass.

Lancelot touches his shoulder, "Arthur, he-"

Arthur can feel his anger bubbling. One of the few things he knows he has inherited from his father is his rage, an ugly horrid thing that pushes itself to the forefront of his mind, destroying every sane thought in its wake. Uther could never listen to reason when he had lost his temper.

Apple never falls far from the tree.

"NO," Arthur snaps, his hand going up to silence the Knight without even looking at him, all he can see when he looks at Merlin is a traitor, a villian seldom different to any other sorcerer who has threatened his people, "I want you on your knees."

And Merlin drops. Merlin has never bowed to Arthur, not like this. Not like the other servants always have. So to see him, kneeling, his head hanging low, sends a wave of nausea through Arthur's very sole. There's a look of defeat, of resignation, on Merlin's face. A look that often passes over the faces of people on the executioners block at the last few seconds. Accepting fate. Accepting death. Arthur feels the sword in his hand shake and he tightens his grip. He can feel the other Knights at his back, his men, his soldiers. But he can't feel a thread of support. He can feel tension, like small voices in his head willing him to not do anything stupid.

"Sire, is this really-"

Gwaine. Brave and true Gwaine speaks up to voice what they are all thinking. Arthur wonders how he looks to the other all of a sudden, because Gwaine sounds terrified. Terrified of him, of what he is about to do. Terrified as though faced with a tyrant. An impulsive leader who acts without thinking. Gwaine has always been his sounding board, arguably the most honest Knight of the Roundtable. He doesn't care that Arthur is king, he follows him and fights for him because he believes in Arthur's leadership. He follows him and fights for him because Merlin trusted him, and he takes Merlin's word as gospel.

He holds up a hand to silence him. Looking down at Merlin, his heart is hammering in his chest, the pull of fear and anger fighting for dominance in his chest. He feels light headed, like the world has crumbled around him, breaking the illusion that he had lived with for years.

Merlin has been there, every morning, every night. Fetching and carrying. Serving him honestly and with honour. Why would he do that? Why would he serve a master when he has power at his finger tips? A power strong enough to kill multiple people instantly and avoid the people he doesn't want dead. 

Arthur swallows, Merlin doesn't want him dead, he doesn't want Camelot to fall. What does he want?

His sword slips from his hand as his guard loosens, clattering to the forest floor. He can feel the Knights around him let out the breath they have been holding. Merlin looks up at him, finally meeting his eyes again. The man, the sorcerer, looks terrified and guilty. His eyes are watering with unshead tears that Merlin refuses to let fall. 

"Tie him up," Arthur commands, turning to his men without look at them in the eyes, "i need-just-"

Arthur cuts himself off, not even sparing a glance to his sword as he strides meaningfully into the forest. He needs to be away. He needs to think.

---‐--------------

Arthur sits silently beside a stream, his head nestled in his hands. His head is swimming with thoughts and feelings that he can't make sense of. 

Nothing fits together.

Powerful sorcerer manservant to the King, someone with unlimited access to Arthur awake and asleep. If Merlin wanted him dead, he would have been years ago. So what does he want then? Power? No, he's a manservant, hardly the pinical of political sway. Maybe that is what he wants, for magic to be returned to Camelot. Maybe he's playing the long game, waiting for the day that magic makes the city fall.

But why? What would be the gain? Merlin has saved his life multiple times, why not just let him die? That would have been an easier way.

Hell why hasn't he sided with Morgana over him?

Morgana? Maybe that's who sent him, maybe she knows and is using him to get inside information. But no, it was Merlin who told him what Agravaine had done. It was him over and over again with his 'funny feelings' that protected Arthur over and over again.

Merlin is his best friend. His confidant. His other half. The castle without Merlin would be empty and quiet. Always was when Merlin went off to visit his mum. He would have trusted Merlin with his life, he has done over and over again. Merlin had never let him down.

Until now.

Their friendship, their....bond is founded on lies and deciept. On unanswered questions. On mystery.

Arthur knows Merlin's not stupid, far from it really. His friend has a wise and intelligent side that he sees sometimes when Arthur's self doubt comes out. He thought Merlin came on journeys and quests because he trusts that Arthur will protect him, but now he knows the other man can defend himself plenty well alone. 

Arthur rubs his hands over his face before removing them, shocking himself that the sky has become to darken and a cold chill has settled in the air. He casts his eyes around, almost expecting his knights and Merlin to pop and tell him it had all been a cruel joke.

He pushes himself to his feet. He needs his questions answered, he needs to know what Merlin wanted from him, from them.

He needs to know what he should do.

-----------------------

Arthur's approach to the now set up camp is met with his Knight's standing in respect, bowing low at their King. Something these particular knights rarely do. If it was any other situation, he would have laughed and asked them what they had done. There's an aire of formality and Arthur wonder briefly if his actions prior have changed things forever. 

"Sire," Leon greets, staying standing, he holds Arthur's sword out, hilt first for him to take, "we were about to send out a search party. You didn't take a sword."

He glances around, taking in his most trusted Knights carefully. He needs to know one thing before he moves forward with anything.

"I want to know," Arthur begins, moving the weight of his sword in his hand, not wanting to sheath it just yet, "Did anyone know?"

Lancelot steps forward, bowing respectfully, and Arthur isn't surprised, "I knew, my lord. I have known since the day with the Griffin. I kept Merlin's secret."

"Right that....was not you. Thank you for your honesty," Arthur answers, that long? Lancelot had known from almost his first meeting of Merlin.

Lancelot nods, straightening, his face straight. He sits back down quickly, looking nervously towards Merlin. Arthur refuses to look in his direction, fearing he will break in anger and betrayal again.

Gwaine stand up next, back straight, head held high in defiance before be carefully bows his head in his form of respect. At least some things don't change. 

"My lord, I did not know but I suspected. I was gathering proof so-" Gwaine admits, sullenly.

Arthur cuts him off, offering him an out to what he's admitting, "so you could tell me?"

Gwaine doesn't loon guilty and Arthur knows how he's going to reply, "No, regretfully, my lord. I was going to talk to Merlin about it. When I was sure-"

Arthur feels grateful for the honesty. Gwaine doesn't look regretful despite his words though. He looks confident in his choice to keep the secret as though the only thing he regrets is not talking to Merlin first. Arthur nods at him, watching the long haired Knight cast a look at Merlin with sorrow in his eyes.

For a long moment, Arthur waits. He waits for every one of his trusted friends to admit the lie, he waits to be told that the only person not privy to this secret was him and him alone. But nobody else stands.

Arthur let's out a breath he didn't know he was holding, settling to pace back and forth as he gets his thoughts in order. 

He never has to make these decisions alone before, he usually looks to Merlin for what to do next. To teach him how to trust when he has been lied to. To guide him towards what is right even if that's not what is easy.

"My lord," Leon's voice breaks through his thoughts, halting his pacing, "I think we should let Merlin explain."

Arthur level him with a steady look. Leon, who has been with him through thick and thin. Leon, who has been by his side even before Merlin came into his life. Leon, who is on Merlin's side in this, defending his right to explain himself. Because now Merlin is Leon's friend too. 

"And how would we know what is truth and what is yet another lie?" Arthur asks Leon, almost feeling desperate for his old friend to tell him just what to do, to advise him and guide him. Like he has done his entire life.

"It's Merlin, Sire," Leon says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

And maybe it is.

"Very well," Arthur says, moving towards Merlin, not looking at him at all.

Arthur grabs hold of Merlin's hand and the other man flinches, violently under his hand. And with that, Arthur's world finishes crumbling, the dust settling on the new reality he is now living in. He looks then, he looks and he sees.

Arthur finally sees his friend, his best friend, with fear in his eyes. He sees the pain, exhaustion and guilt reflecting on his much too pale face. His wounded side still open, the bleeding stopped mostly but the red a stalk contrast to his completion. His own guilt spikes in his chest, sickened at himself and his own actions. This isnt just any blood thirsty sorcerer, this is Merlin. He lets go of Merlin's arm like it suddenly became made of burning molten gold. 

He looks away, breathing heavily as he straightens his back, "Untie him." He feels his voice shaking slightly, "he-he doesn't need to be tied."

Lancelot and Gwaine surge forward at the command, untying their friend from his binds quickly, the rope having obviously not been tied as tight as they usually are.

"Thank you," Merlin says softly, pushing himself gingerly to his feet, "I mean it."

Lancelot holds out a rag to put over the jostled wound that has begun bleeding again. Arthur winces. He can see Merlin surveying them, guarded and afraid in a way Arthur has never seen him before. For all his joking of Merlin being a coward, never once has he seen him truly terrified even in face of seemingly certain death. Maybe that was because Merlin could defend himself, but Arthur also knows it comes from a deep down courage and bravery that he seldom sees, even in his best knights. 

Arthur looks at him fully now, watching him shake out his hands, palming the indents from the bound rope.

"How long? How long have you been practicing magic?" Arthur asks, cutting straight to it, he feels his chest tighten at the word magic, almost unable to admit to truth to himself even now. His eyes flick to the reddening cloth at Merlins side and a voice in the back of his head wonders why nobody treated the wound while he was away.

He shakes himself, putting his mask back up to hide his concern. There was time for that later. He rests his hand on the hilt of his sword, just in case.

"I am magic, I was born with it," Merlin answers, his voice unsteady but confident, "I didn't choose this."

Arthur feels a stab of anger and betrayal at the words. Liar. Why would he lie? Why now? People weren't born with magic, magic corrupts those who take part in it. Morgana claimed the same, that she didn't choose to break the law, that she didn't choose to betray them. Lies. Magic corrupts.

"You would lie at a time like this," Arthur demands feeling tired at the weight of the conversation.

While they arent standing far away from one another, Arthur feels like there's a cazem between them. One he wishes he could fill but he can't. He can't reach the part of Merlin he thinks he knows.

"No. I was born with it. I left Ealdor because people.....people were starting to notice. I never fit in there before but this? This put me in danger. Centred had a very specific view on how helpful magic users can be. I came to Camelot to learn to control it," Merlin explains, his eyes holding nothing but honesty, pleading him to understand and believe him.

"Camelot, where it us illegal on penalty of death to practice?" Arthur counters, raising his eyebrows, just wanting to know why this is happening.

"It was a risk, but it was my destiny, to protect you, to serve you," Merlin answers, he is pleading now, desperate for Arthur to understand something he cannot, not yet, "I only use it for you, Arthur, just for you."

Arthur straightens at that, feeling like Merlin is pushing the blame onto him. He didn't force Merlin to practice magic to save him. He never asked him to do any such thing, "for ME? How is this for me? You killed all those people-"

Arthur's words stick in his throat, Merlin killed all of the bandits with a click of his finger. He could do the same to them at any given moment. His power had washed over them all with a force Arthur's never felt before. Merlin is powerful and dangerous.

"People who meant to kill you, isn't that exactly what your knights do?" Merlin pushes, his eyes flicking over to the position that all of the bodies had fallen, Arthur can feel the Knights nodding their agreement, "it-wasn't- I didn't mean to do it like that. There was so many of them. We weren't going to win."

"There's an honour in a sword battle."

Equal and skill reliant. There is an honour in beating a fellow knights in a dual but the bandits showed little honour in their conduct. They were outnumbering them tenfold.

"Honour? In them ambushing us, they outnumbered us by far, wheres the honour in letting my King die?"

Merlins words agree with his internal thoughts.

Arthur holds his head up, defensively, "We had it handled."

Then Merlin laughs, the man laughs in his face. Arthur feels taken back by the disrespect but it pushes home that this is Merlin after all. Merlin doesn't respect etiquette or manners for those above him over those below. Merlin has always treated him like a normal person and he's always enjoyed Merlin's company because of it.

"I have saved you countless times Arthur. You stand there today because of my magic. Bandits, sorcerers, soldiers, magic creatures, you name it. I have protected you from them all. I have given everything to serve you, to be your friend," Merlin says, the words with confidence, his head held high like he's relieved that Arthur can finally see him truly.

"What do you want, my thanks?"

Merlin looks at him with so much offense that Arthur almost cringes back from him, he runs his hand through his hair aggitated, "Your thanks? When have I asked you for a thank you?"

Arthur pauses to just look at Merlin at last. This Merlin is no different to the Merlin they left Camelot with. He works for and serves Arthur with little to no complains, with little to no worry for a thanks. Merlin is a servant, Arthur knows that servants rarely get a thanks for their work and he has never been required to show gratitude to any when he was growing up. But Merlin has always gone above and beyond the line of duty for a servant. A normal manservant doesnt go on quests or to battles or even on hunts, there's other servants for that. But Merlin refuses to leave Arthur's side. And finally Arthur can see why. Merlin's not just curious or bordering on suicidal as he follows Arthur, he's protecting him too. He's a step ahead to ensure any danger can be dealt with before Arthur can get hurt. Everything suddenly makes sense. Merlin isn't using magic to plot against him, he's using it to protect him from others like himself.

Arthur levels him with a careful look, "then what so you want?"

Merlin's face softens, looking Arthur in the eyes, "i want you alive, my lord. I want to serve my king."

Arthur almost expects Merlin to falls to his knees, pledging alliance much like Lancelot did on one of their first meetings. But Merlin stands firm, his head aloof and eyes honest. It's a challenge, daring Arthur to contest his words. Arthur feels a sudden glow of respect for the other man.

"Why? Why get a mere servant when you have- you have all this power?" Arthur asks, genuinely curious now, his mind has cleared and things are starting to feel normal.

Merlin smirks, softly, "some men are born to plow fields, some live to be grwat physicians, others to be great Kings. Me? I was born to serve you, Arthur, and I'm proud of that."

The words hit Arthur like a hammer to his chest, this is the wise man he knows Merlin to secretly be. He swallows, "That's one he'll of a destiny."

"I'm still the same person I always was, Arthur," Merlin says, gently, "you just know a bit more about me."

Arthur huffs, smiling despite himself, "It's a bit more than that, Merlin. I need to know, is there anything else?" 

Merlin looks towards the sky, sighing, "Where do you want me to start?"

-----‐----------------

Arthur listens to Merlin recite every time he has saved his life. His mind is reeling, many different quests that had only succeded because of Merlin. Battles that would not have been won without Merlin. He feels guilty because he's never really seen Merlin in all the years that they've known each other. He's never valued him as much as he should have done. Merlin had put his own life on the line over and over again just to keep Arthur safe. He'll never be able to repay that.

Lancelot has bound and treated Merlin's wound during the stories. Arthur had made a bit of a fool of himself asking why the knights hadn't done just that while he was gone but Merlin had admitted he had refused the help to prevent any more trouble. Which frankly made Arthur feel worse.

Merlin makes them some edible food because it turns out all of his Knights (and himself) can't cook for shit so Merlin had taken over quickly claiming he didn't want to be ill tomorrow after eating Gwaine's version of food. 

"I've lost count," Leon cuts in after Merlin finishes a flourishing dramatic story of saving camelot from the Great Dragon. Oh yeah he's also a dragon lord, apparently, nothing would surprise Arthur anymore, "how many times have you saved him?"

Leon looks rightly scandalised about the danger the King had been in over the last years, clearly guilty that his Knights could never protect him enough. 

Merlin shrugs, smirking as he eats his stew, "don't know. Didn't really count after the first like ten."

Merlin looks more at ease now, clearly comfortable in the knowledge that he's still safe with them and doesn't need to keep his guard up. Arthur has watched his smtense shoulders slowly ease at the positive response to his stories becoming more and more proud of them rather than fearing what they would unveil about him.

"All those years, you never sought any credit?" Elyan says, looking at Merlin with a mixture of admiration and shock.

Arthur can also feel the same emotions swimming in his own head.

Merlin puts his bowl down with a shrug, "that's not what I do it," Merlin stands to take all the bowls with him to wash.

Arthur feels a sudden urge to help, to repay a debt that Merlin keeps saying doesn't exist, he stands, "Let me."

Merlin looks at him incredulously with a hint of humour in his eyes, "Ehhh no? Still a servant remember?"

Right and he's the King. He's never washed up a plate in his life. Though it's hardly rocket science surely.

"Right, that's right," Arthur concedes, dropping his hands to his sides, fidgeting uncomfortably.

It's not that he doesn't know how to act around Merlin. Quite the opposite. He doesn't fear him anymore, the tang of betrayal has dulled completely in his chest though it still spikes whenever he thinks about it. But he's got the same urge he did when Merlin drank poison for him, the pull to make up for it, to prove that what he had risked was deserved. That Arthur deserved to be saved. Arthur himself wants (needs) to show his worth now to Merlin. To prove that the years of support weren't for a lost cause.

Gwaine, who's lounging to his left, his head resting casually on his hand, is watching Merlin like he hung the moon, "How powerful actually are you?"

Gwaine words catch everyone attention, all eyes looking to Merlin intrigued to hear the answer. Merlin hesitates, looking torn by the question. He's pulling up his sleeves to wash their bowls as he mutters, "ehh quite."

"Show us something," Percival encourages, eagerly, sitting up straighter against a tree in anticipation.

Arthur sees Merlins eyes flick to him and he's grateful that the other man cares for his opinion on the matter. He nods his approval quickly, eager himself to see what Merlin can actually do.

Merlin mutters a spell under his breath and the water in the bowl heats up, steam rising from it. The cloth and bowls suddenly have a mind of their own as they levitate above the bowl. The cloth slides over the bowls to carefully clean every speck of food off them before they are magically dry and placed in a neat pile, clean.

Arthur raises his eyebrows, hell Merlin could have made his own life so much easier if he'd used magic in his chores in the castle. Or maybe he did anyway.

A lot is going to change when they return to Camelot, Arthur realises.

Gwaine sighs dramatically, "that's hardly magic that's chores, boring."

The other Knights laugh at the taunt, knowing that Gwaine is trying to egg Merlin on to doing bigger and better things.

It works.

Merlin smirks, muttering another spell and twisting his hand towards the burning fire. A dragon shape breaks free from the flames, cutting through the air as it circles the group. It's size increasing with the amount of time it's in the air. Arthur watches in awe,knowing the Knights are looking on in the same way. The dragon sweeps low past Gwaines face making him flinch back but grin widely. Merlin is careful to keep the dragon low, not wanting to show anyone, who may cause them harm, their position. 

Merlin's fingers spread out and the dragon evaporates as quick as it manifested. 

There's a silence and Arthur sees a speck of doubt grow in Merlins eyes before the Knights erupt in cheers and praise.

"That was amazing!" Percival and Elyan simultaneously. 

"How did you learn to do that?" Lancelot.

"Wow I never knew magic could be so beautiful!" Leon.

"Amazing Merlin!" Gwaine.

Arthur doesn't say a word but meets Merlin's gaze. He hopes the pride he feels is reflected in his eyes.

-----------------

Arthur takes the first watch when the Knights all settle down to sleep. Gwaine kept making quips that they don't need a watch if Merlin's got his magical senses. Merlin had bumped his shoulder with his own, rolling his eyes at the Knights antics.

The camp falls quiet slowly as the lazy chatter falls away to soft snores. 

Arthur feels Merlin walk up behind him and moves over needlessly to give Merlin some room to sit. Merlin does, sitting cross legged beside him, their shouldee close enough to touch. Arthur can feel the warmth radiating off him. 

They're silent for a long moment, looking into the darkness of the forest in thought.

Arthur looks at Merlin and feels a sudden question push its way past his lips. A question he didn't want to ask in front of the others, "Have you hated me all this time?"

There's no anger in the question, no upset. Just sincerity. Arthur needs to know if Merlin has resented him for a long time, blaming him for needing to keep a part of himself secret for so long.

Merlin doesn't look surprised at the question, "I've never hated you Arthur."

The sorcerer pauses, a smirk forming on his face, "well actually maybe when you were trying to brain me with a mace when we met-"

Arthur laughs despite himself, shouldering Merlin good-naturedly, "Be serious, you buffoon. I could have killed you, would have done if my dad was-"

Merlin shrugs, "that didn't make me hate you," he says it like its as simple as that, "You're destined to unite Albion and bring magic back to the land."

Arthur raises his eyebrows, pulling a face at that, him? "Me? All these times, talking about fate and destiny? You weren't just making them up?" 

Merlin face softens, a small smile making its way onto his face, "if you heard half of them, you wouldn't doubt yourself again."

Arthur feels a stab of something then. Is that all they ever were? Merlin is following his destiny by protecting him. He's been told to protect him so that he can fulfill his own destiny. Arthur suddenly fears that Merlin is going to tell him their friendship had all been a lie, a cover up for Merlin playing bodyguard and guide. Arthur doesn't think he can lose Merlin. Not completely.

"So that's why youre here? Why youve always been here? Destiny?" Arthur can feel the plea in his voice. Please don't be true.

"No Arthur," Merlin answers, moving even closer to his friend so that their sides are pressed together, Arthur feels the tension fall from his shoulders, "at the start, yeah, I was pushed to be here but ut didn't take long for me to believe in you. It didn't take long for me to want to be by your side. Even if you are an arrogant ass.'

"Still treason, Merlin," Arthur can't help but smile at his friend.

"Hardly the worse law I've broken today."

With those words, Arthur feels a darkness decend on his mind. Treason, magic, laws. Camelot. The reality of the situation hitting him hard all of a sudden. 

"I-I don't want you to leave. I don't want to exile you," Arthur starts, cutting himself off, not knowing where he wants to go with his sentence. He can't live in Camelot without Merlin, he knows that much.

"But?"

Merlin is looking at him sadly, as though expecting him to say that he still has to go. Or worse yet that he still had to face the executioners block.

Arthur shakes his head, determined, "there's no but. I'm not going to but it won't be easy. People can't know until I make it safe, draw up laws on how magic can be used. I can't risk allowing evil sorcerers free reign on the kingdom."

Merlins face breaks into the biggest smile Arthur thinks he's ever seen. The fear is gone and Arthur swears he can see pride in Merlins eyes. Arthur briefly lets himself think what Uther would have said about all of this but soon chases the thought away. Merlin is magic and he is his friend. If Merlin can have magic running through his very veins, it can hardly be all bad in the right hands.

"People are less likely to use gifts for evil if they don't meet oppression," Merlin says, his smile going sad for a second, "I failed Morgana."

Arthur straightens at the mention of his sister. His sister that he never believed had magic from birth even when she told Uther herself. Until today he had been convinced she had turned to magic because she hated his father and that had corrupted her soul but no, Uther had driven hate so deep into hurt that it had forced ice into her heart. His father destroyed Morgana and turned her against them all. He wonders if changing laws might encourage his sister back to him. The sister he grew up with not the hellbent sorceress that craved revenge and the crown.

Arthur thinks he could forgive her now. 

"What do you mean?" Arthur asks, looking at Merlin sharply, of course Merlin knew first before all of them.

"I knew, before. I took her to the druid camp that you attacked in search of her," Merlin admits, guiltily, "I told her I understood her struggles but never told her about my own. I distrusted her and she felt alone. I pushed her into the arms of Morgause."

Arthur shakes his head, emotion pricking at his throat, "That's not your fault, you needed to protect yourself first. My father made her feel alone and ....unnatural, not you. I made her feel alone."

Merlin couldn't tell the King's ward that he had magic, even if both cases had come out, Arthur knows who would have been on the fire. And Morgana would have escape most punishment. Merlin couldn't save Morgana but Arthur could have if he'd just listened and paid that little bit more attention to his sisters upset everytime a sorcerer was executed. Maybe she would have trusted him more. Trusted him to change Camelot for the better when his time came and his father's ended.

"You never knew," Merlin reminds him.

"If I was a better friend, a better brother. She would have felt safe enough to tell me. You would have," Arthur feels the stab of guilt.

Merlin has been his safe space for years but Merlin could never be himself fully to Arthur because he never made him feel safe enough to. 

"I'm sorry."

Merlin huffs out a soft laugh, "Apologies from a king? I MUST be dreaming."

Arthur bumps his shoulder again, smirking, "Give over. I'm trying to be sincere."

"Can't be a prat all your life."

Arthur glares without any heat. Happy things are just the same as they always were. Tomorrow would be the start of a change. A good change for the future of Camelot.

"At least you're a royal one," Merlin smirks, cheekily.