Work Text:
Merlin waited until the day after Arthur was crowned king. He wanted him to remember that day as un-tarnished as possible (if that was possible, given the circumstances of his father's death).
In the evening of the first day of Arthur’s rule, Merlin and Arthur sat in the king’s chamber in the seats in front of the fireplace, sharing a bottle of wine between them. It has been a busy day.
Arthur stares into the fire, a goblet in his hand.
"Day one," Merlin says, more cheerful than he is feeling. "May if be the first of many!" He takes a sip right from the bottle.
Arthur glares at him. "Can't bother to take a goblet, given the occasion?"
"Unless you plan on employing another servant who'd do the tedious tasks of washing your dishes, I'm afraid not," Merlin replies, taking another sip, hoping the drink will help with the conversation he plans to have.
Arthur just shakes his head and stares back into the fire.
"Do you think I'll do it right?" The question shoots past Arthur's lips before he can hold it back. "Do you think I'll be a better king than my father was?"
Merlin glances at Arthur, who's still staring into the fire.
"That depends," Merlin answers.
"On what?" Arthur swallows another gulp of wine.
It's now or never. Merlin sits up straight.
"There's something I need to tell you," he begins. "Something you need know, now that you’re king."
Something in Merlin's voice makes Arthur bite back a snarky comment on how this was his feelings they were talking about right now. He turns to look at Merlin, who in turn is now staring into the fire. His back is straight, and he looks more tense than Arthur can ever recall seeing him.
Merlin sucks in some air, then turns to face Arthur, looking him straight in the eye.
"I have magic," he says.
There’s a pause, then:
"I'm a sorcerer. I have magic. And I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.."
There's a pleading in his voice, and the feeling that there’s more he wants to say, more he needs Arthur to know, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm him.
Arthur looks at him, a mixture of confusion, suspicion and denial on his face.
"Don't he ridiculous, Merlin," he says, but his voice lacks any bite. "You don't have magic. I would know!"
The last bit he says so sure, Merlin’s already wet eyes fill with tears. Merlin closes them and lifts his right hand towards the fire place. Arthurs eyes follow, and then there’s a bright golden dragon emerging from the sparks of the fire. When he looks back at Merlin, shocked, Merlin's eyes glow gold.
Instinctively, Arthur stands up and takes a few steps back, his hand shoots towards his sword, but he doesn’t draw it.
"I'm sorry," Merlin whispers, as his eyes return to their natural blue and the dragon shape above the fire fades.
Arthur still hasn’t said a word, but his face show a range of emotions, from unbelieve to shock to betrayal to hurt to anger. He's standing still, like a statue next to the fireplace. Merlin hasn’t moved from his seat on the chair.
"I will accept any punishment you put upon me, Arthur," he says. He sounds tired, but his posture is upright. "Call the guards, put me in a cell, execute me, even. But know that I've only ever used my magic to serve you."
There’s a challenge in his eyes, daring Arthur to doubt the truth of his words, and maybe that finally gets Arthur to act. His face closes off, and Merlin feels a sting of pain in his chest. They have been friends for so long now, he's not used to the royal mask aimed at him.
"Guards," Arthur calls out, but his voice breaks and its more of a whisper.
"Guards," he tries again, louder this time. Merlin closes his eyes, opens them again, when he hears the footsteps of the guards outside and the door to the chamber being opened.
Arthur is still staring at him and Merlin carefully puts his arms behind his back, as to not startle anyone. Slowly, he slides from his seat to kneel on the floor.
"Guards," Arthur says, when four men have entered the chamber, starring confused at the display on front of them.
"Arrest him." He swallows. He's eyes are still locked into Merlin’s and despite the mask Merlin can see the hurt and betrayal in them.
"Arrest him on charge of sorcery. Bring him to the cells."
Arthur finally breaks the eye contact and Merlin can feel his heart breaking with it.
------
It takes about 30 minutes for Gaius to come to his cell, and an hour for Gwen.
"You stupid boy," Gaius yells before he’s even at the bottom of the stairs, though it sounds more sad than angry. "Why didn’t you tell me that you planned on telling Arthur?”
Merlin smiles sadly. Gaius reaches through the bars to press his hand, but one of the guards gives him a slight shove and shakes his head.
"No touching the prisoner," he says. "He’s dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Gaius repeats loudly. "Of course he is! That’s the only reason your idiot of a king is still alive, Gary! Don’t tell me how to treat my-" he stops himself abruptly, and the guard looks slightly taken aback. So does Merlin.
"That’s affront of the crown," the guard says, though he doesn’t sound so sure of himself. "Watch your tongue, or you'll be the next one in a cell."
"Oh, sure, Gary," Gaius says, scoffingly, "and who’s going to treat you next time you catch Syphilis again? If both me and my apprentice are in jail, good luck finding a cure!" He ignores the guard turning red and turns back to Merlin.
"I will talk to Arthur," he says, "and if he doesn't see sense, I'll make him!"
-----
Next is Gwen, her face swollen from the tears she must have spilled on the way here.
"Oh Merlin, I came as soon as I heard," she cries, kneeling next to him on the other side of the bars. "I don’t understand how Arthur could do this, this is insanity!"
"Gwen," Merlin tries to console her, but he is also confused. "Does this mean you know?"
Gwen sniffles. "That they charged you with magic? Yes. And Merlin listen, I don’t care if you have magic, I know you. And you are a good person," she says, grabbing the bars and looking him in the eye.
Tears fill Merlins eyes.
"It is true," he says. Gwen inhales sharply, but then she smiles.
"I'm so glad it’s you," she says, "i don’t know who else I’d rather have have magic."
----
Arthur comes after a day.
Merlin sits leaned against the wall right of the bars, his face illuminated by the few sunbeams that comes in through the window on the back of the cell. His eyes are closed, but he would know Arthurs steps anywhere.
"Build the pyre yet?" he says, then opens his eyes just wide enough to see a flush of discomfort fly over Arthur’s face. He gestures for the guards to leave.
"Don’t say that," the king answers, as soon as the guards are gone, coming to a halt a few steps in front of the bars.
"Why not?" Merlin asks, pushing himself off the wall. He can’t help the provocative tone. "The law of the land says sorcery is punishable by death, mostly executed through fire. Or do you still have a little bit of compassion for me somewhere and you’ll at least make it quick? Axe? The gallows?”
"Stop it," Arthur says, his tone sharp and Merlin shuts up. He stands up to face Arthur and notices the slight step back Arthur makes. Another sharp pain in his chest.
"You're afraid of me," he says, less of a question and more a statement.
"I don’t know what you're capable of," Arthur says, cagey.
"What, with those irons around my hands?" Merlin lifts and shakes his hands, which are bound together by heavy iron shackles. "If I wanted to hurt or kill you, you know I’ve had plenty of opportunities," Merlin says sadly.
"Why didn't you?" Arthur replies, and Merlin hears all the other questions Arthur doesn’t ask. Why did you pretend to be my servant? Why did you pretend to be my friend?
"It's a long story," Merlin says. "Sure you have time for that, my king?" The title comes out a little sarcastic, as always.
"I'm all ears," Arthur replies, his voice dark.
"Well then get comfortable, my liege, and let me tell you a story." Merlin sits down cross legged on the floor, his shackled hands in his lap. The sun is now illuminating him from behind.
"Once upon a time, magic was free and the old religion brought peace and freedom to those, who followed it ..."
-------
Arthur came back every day. He still wouldn’t come close to the bars, but he listened, while Merlin told the tales of their adventures, now through his perspective.
At the end of their fourth day, when Arthur was already up the first three steps back to his rooms, he stopped and turned his head back to Merlin.
"If all you say is true," he says, "and you really are the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth, then neither my guards nor these cells can hold you, can they?"
Merlin, still sitting on the floor in his cell, smiles.
"They can't," he admits.
Arthur sucks in air at this confession.
"So why are you still here, then?"
Merlin still smiles, but his voice is as grave as the reality of the situation.
"Because I need you to listen to me, Arthur, and I need you to understand."
------
Six days after Merlin's arrest, the guards put on his shackles again (Arthur had them taken off after he realised that they were as useless as the cell if Merlin really wanted to get out) and brought him to the court room.
The entire council was there, as was the royal household, including Gwen, Gaius and the knights.
Arthur stood in front of his throne, a parchment in his hands. Merlin’s sentence.
The guards pushed Merlin to his knees in front of the king, and Merlin could hear Gwen gasp in resentment of their treatment of him. He turned his head to smile quickly at her, then turned to face Arthur and his sentence.
The king’s face was this stoic mask again, making it impossible to read what he was thinking. They have talked a lot these past few days, but Merlin still didn't know if it was enough to convince him. And the council.
"Merlin, Son of Hunith," Arthur begins.
"You have been charged, on uncountable accounts, with sorcery and therefore treason. The law of the land demands these charges to be punished by death."
He could hear Gwen choke, but Arthur continued reading.
"However, since we have found no evidence of malignant use of sorcery-" there was a slight mumbling and shuffling amongst the council members and Merlin suspects that they deemed any use of magic as 'malignant' "-you will hereby be banished from the lands of Camelot. You have until sundown tomorrow to leave the city and two weeks to leave the country. Should you be seen in the kingdom again, you are deemed outlawed and can be killed with no prosecution of the killer."
Merlin could hear Gwen crying behind him, with Gaius murmuring consolation into her ear.
Arthur has not looked up from the parchment since he began reading, but now he's looking Merlin in the eye, his face showing no emotion.
"Do you accept this sentence?"
Merlin blinks.
"No," he says.
Now there’s more shuffling and mumbling, both in the crowd and the council.
"No?" Arthur repeats Merlin's word. "Alright. You have not been given a chance to speak for yourself before the court until now to defend yourself. Tell us, what do you want?"
Merlin straightens his back. He glances across the room, where many curious and hateful eyes are starting at him. He turns, as to half face Arthur and the council, half face the crowd.
"I want magic to be legalized," he says, loud enough for his voice to reach even those at the back of the crowd.
"I want the old religion allowed back into Camelot. I want people being able to be who they are and not having to be afraid for their lives because of something they were born with. I want Camelot to be home to everyone who has good intentions, no matter if they have magic or not."
Chin held high; he turns now to face the council members. "If that is something you cannot accept, then I wish to be punished according to the law of the land. Treat me like you would any magic user," he says, directing his words as Arthur now, "and if you don’t have the guts to change the law, then execute me."
For a moment there is complete silence in the room. Then one of the council members cries out: "Never!" and starts a shouting match in which the entire room participates in.
Arthur is the only one who doesn't say something. He just keeps starring at Merlin. His face is unreadable. Merlin knows that he has put Arthur in an impossible situation, but he also knows that they have been in impossible situations before. Arthur has always done the right thing, even if he needed a little push in the right direction sometimes.
Knowing his voice will be concealed for and by the still shouting crowd, Merlin looks at Arthur.
"I do believe you'll be a better king than your father ever tried to be," Merlin says. "But if you'll be a good king ... I guess we'll see."
He turns and lets himself be escorted by the guards.
