Archive of Our Own

I had a right to know.

The certainty of it echoed in his mind, ringing so loud he can't hear anything else as he readies a horse. It's lucky everyone else is just as busy attending to their own matters in the midst of the great dragon's attack, because he's sure he wouldn't hear anything said to him anyway.

Not until Gaius steps up behind him, at least.

"Have you got everything you need?" the man asks, and the tips of Merlin's ears heat up. It's half shame at his own behavior, and half fury with Gaius's. He nods, adjusting the straps on the saddle and hoping to be left alone, but Gaius just waits.

Merlin looks up. I had a right to know roars in his ears again, as loud as the dragon above, and for a terrifying moment he's sure he'll say something he'll regret-

"I'm sorry," He says instead, anger doused as soon as he met Gaius's eyes. It always is. "I didn't mean to-"

"I know." The man nods, and Merlin's anger flared again, as quickly as it had left. He always knew, didn't he? He knew about Merlin. He didn't say anything. He left him in the dark, when his father was out there, alive, the entire time.

Merlin didn't say anything, either. Just nodded. He hated fighting with Gaius, especially when he was about to leave with Arthur. Didn't want give the man even more reason then he already had, to worry. Didn't want to give him the opportunity to raise an eyebrow and dismiss the only thought that he'd been able to hold onto since that morning.

The silence is interrupted before it grew awkward.

"Come on, Merlin." Arthur called, trotting down the stairs. Merlin was grateful so grateful for the interruption before the silence grew heavy and awkward that he didn't even insult the prince's lack of timeliness.

"You ready?" He checked, because if he didn't then Arthur would just blame him for it later anyway.

The prince said something grumpy in response, but Merlin was too occupied with not looking at Gaius as he hopped onto his horse (Or, well. One of Arthur's horses, that he often let Merlin use). Then he hissed, and Merlin remembered his earlier encounter with the great dragon, remembered it's his fault, remembered that Gaius didn't tell him and he had a right-

"Are you okay?" He asks, instead of finishing the thought for the hundredth time.

"It's just a scratch." Arthur lies, as if Merlin hadn't been the one to dress it last night, and then rides off. Merlin pets his horse and- is stopped by Gaius. Again.

"Whatever happens," He says, "you must not let Arthur know who this man is." He hated fighting with Gaius. He hated leaving on a sour note. He hated that he couldn't trust himself to respond with anything but venom or laughter, and I had a right to know sits on his tongue like burn. He looks up, and Arthur hasn't looked back. Why would he? Merlin would always follow where he lead. "Uther would view the son of a dragon lord with the deepest suspicion."

Merlin didn't say anything as he goes. He thinks, with little humor, that it's a habit he picked up from Gaius.

--

It's a long, hard day of riding, pausing only twice to rest the horses and eat. The sun is still high in the sky when Arthur pulls them to a stop and warns that they're about to enter Cendred's kingdom. 

Merlin realizes, a beat too late, that he would usually say something about that. He realizes, maybe hours too late, that he would usually say many things on a long boring day ride through the forest.

"This Balinor better be worth it." Arthur states, filling the silence he hadn't meant to leave. He steps over the imaginary line between lands, and keeps riding. The sky grows murky with clouds and then heavy with rain. It's miserable to ride through as the sun sets, but neither of them suggest resting for the night. Merlin had forgotten to pack cloaks, and honestly struggles to believe that Arthur doesn't scolded him for it.

"I suppose the rain is a good thing." Arthur said, clearly trying to convince himself as he tilts his head to try and keep the rain out of his eyes, "In Camelot, I mean. Rain should help with the fire."

"Storm might ward off the dragon, for a bit." Merlin offered, really hoping it was true, although he couldn't help but doubt it. If he couldn't stop the dragon, he doubted poor weather would.

"Might." Arthur nodded. His horse stumbled and sent water streaming down his face in the exact way he'd been trying to avoid for almost an hour now. Merlin frowned at the beast, sagging with exhaustion from the long day, and noticed his horse doing the same. He pinched his nose, closed his eyes, and whispered a spell to keep them perked up for just a bit longer.

Arthur frowned at him, but didn't say anything, so he probably didn't notice the magic. Merlin waved impatiently at him to continue, more then ready to be out of the rain and hopefully closer to some truth.

--

The tavern they finally find brings no useful information. The food and bed should stir up some relief, at least, but all he really feels is anxious for it to be morning so they can continue their search. They go up to the room Arthur rented for the night, and Merlin doesn't even change out of his wet clothes before laying down and waiting impatiently for exhaustion to catch up with him.

He hears a pinched breath, and his eyes fall from the ceiling to the prince. The bandages around his shoulder are soaked and ripped and desperately need changing. Merlin should probably do that. His hand twitches at the thought, but he doesn't get up.

Arthur turns his head, sees him looking, and Merlin looks away. There's a joke, half formed, about Arthur suddenly remembering how to dress himself, but Merlin can't quite put it together.

"What is wrong with you today?"

"What?" Merlin blinked, too exhausted to make any of the excuses he knew were expected.

"You know I do enjoy your surly retorts, much as it pains me to admit it- in fact, it's probably your only redeeming feature." Arthur said fast, because it was the only way he knew to pay Merlin a compliment; before he could think better of it.

"Thanks." Merlin sighed, looking away. He hoped Arthur knew that under the exhaustion, he meant it. Arthur sometimes had a clumsy sort of honesty about him. At the moment, Merlin couldn't help but envy it.

With an entire day to think on it, the revelations of the morning had not settled at all. If anything, they had branched out, snapping at every secret Gaius and him kept, now that he knew how being the ignorant party felt. He had a right to know that he had a father, alive somewhere. Morgana had a right to know, from the start, that she wasn't crazy, just gifted. And more then anything else-

"There are loads of servants who can serve. So few are capable of making a complete prat of themselves." Arthur provoked directly, when coughing up a backhanded compliment didn't work. Merlin couldn't gather the energy to rise to that bait either. He just laughed. "What?"

"Nothing." He yawned. Really, it was just that Arthur didn't know how right he was- and, of course, Merlin could never say as much. Demonstrably, Merlin wasn't good for saying much at all.

"It's something. Tell me." Arthur pressed, sounding just as tired as he was. Like Merlin was the one being difficult, when all he wanted to do was sleep and get back on the road.

Merlin doesn't respond. He takes a deep breathe in, almost chokes on another random surge of ire at Gaius that he hated to feel, and hopes that Arthur will leave him alone for one night. Of course, he barely has time to release that breath before Arthur's patience is spent and his mouth is open again.

"Alright. I know I'm a prince." He said, in a noticeably princier voice. Diplomatic, like he was negotiating with a lord. Merlin couldn't decide if he should be upset or a little touched, that Arthur was using it on him. "So we can't be friends. But if I wasn't a prince-"

"What?" Merlin interrupted, deciding to be upset. Not a friend, of course not, just a problem for Prince Arthur to fix with pretty words. And, of course, he caught Merlin on the one night he couldn't call him on it without feeling like a hypocrite.

"Well then.....I think we'd probably get on." Arthur proposed, delicately.

"So?" Merlin bit out. His heart was speeding up, more afraid of where this conversation could lead then dodging exploding pillars in Camelot the day before.

"So that means you can tell me."

"Well that's true, but you see if you weren't a prince, I'd tell you to mind your own damn business."

"Merlin!" Arthur said, diplomat voice gone. Small mercies. Instead of yelling, though, so Merlin could at least yell back, he just calmed himself down and tried again. "Are you missing Gaius?"

The question made Merlin's heart pound, harder. It made an ugly laugh sit in his throat and even uglier truths try and claw their way up around it. "Something like that." He manages to say, instead of crying or laughing like a lunatic. Merlin had a right to know his father. Morgana had a right to know herself. Arthur-

"Well, what is it then?" Arthur pressed, again, and a pillow hits his face hard, because his prince was a prat.

"I'll tell you." He lies, because he couldn't possibly. He digs for another, safer worry to present, something about hoping Camelot is safe, and says "You had a right to know the truth about your mother."

He didn't mean to say that. His mouth is dry, the room is 10 degrees colder, his heart is a war drum in his ears, and he didn't mean to say that even though maybe he should've, and it's not like he can unsay it.

"What?" Arthur asks, softly, almost childlike, and then louder- "What?"

"I shouldn't have lied to you. You deserve to know." He said. The words felt like shedding a heavy weight, and then having a horse dropped on him for his troubles.

"Merlin, what are you saying?" Arthur asks carefully.

He pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and spoke. "Morgause. That ghost of your mother. It was all true." He turned to face Arthur, because his friend deserved that too. "It was real, Arthur."

The prince stared at him in a long silence. In the low light, Merlin studies his expression. confusion is there, and so is a slowly creeping outrage as the words process, but for a long moment there is a joy so bright in his eyes that Merlin can't help but relax a little.

Then the rest of Arthur's face crumples into that outrage. "No it wasn't. I- my father- you said-" Arthur glared, confusion starting to clear. "You lied to me."

Merlin swallowed, and nodded. "I did. I'm sorry."

"How would you even know?" Arthur hissed. He looked a little scared, too. The solidarity did not make Merlin feel better. "She was a sorcerer. Of course she used magic to lie. She wanted to hurt Camelot."

Merlin pursed his lips and looked away. He knew, of course, because he had heard the spell, and felt the magic. Help your son, Morgouse had commanded, Hurry back to this earth and seek him.

"Maybe. But Gaius admitted it, when we got back." He hesitated, then added "And your father thanked me, after."

"My father." Arthur sounded like the title had been punched out of him. He sat up, and Merlin did the same. "He swore to me that she was lying. He killed her, persecuted hundreds for his own crime, and then lied to me about it. How dare he call himself a king of the people." He blinked, remembering Merlin was there, and glaring at him again. "How dare you let me enable his senseless killing. Why stop me?"

"You'd never forgive yourself for killing your own father. His death would haunt you as much as your mother's, even if he is a monster."

"And he is." Arthur said, with an unbreakable certainty. "I could never forgive him for any of this. No one could."

"You can't kill him, either." Merlin pointed out with a long sigh. His fear had faded into exhaustion, again.

Arthur didn't respond. Merlin wanted to sleep, but he had to do something to help. For lack of anything else, he leaned down to open his bag, and pulled out spare bandages and salve. He'd remembered to grab that much, at least. He moves to sit next to a very stiff Arthur, and silently tends to his wounds- his physical ones at least. The emotional ailment was another matter entirely.

"Hundreds of people, Merlin." Arthur whispered. If he weren't so close, he wasn't sure he'd hear it. "Hundreds of our people, dead for his madness. Dozens by my own hand, because I had faith in my king. He has dishonored himself beyond salvation. He is a hypocrite of the highest order. He is not fit to rule."

"What will you do, then?" Merlin asked, just as quiet.

"I'll-" Arthur flexed his fist, and winced as it pulled at the muscle Merlin was treating in his shoulder. "I'll depose him. I'll talk to Gaius, and- Sir Leon was there, wasn't he? He'll attest to my father making a false vow. To my father having nothing to say for his crimes. Then a trial. The people will know of his misdeeds." He paused and then, quieter then ever, "I wish Morgana were back with us. She'd be a great help."

"I do too." Merlin nodded. He woke up most days hoping that, if nothing else, Morgause cared for her sister as much as she seemed to. Hoping that Morgana was finally allowed to be happy, instead of brave. "Do you...really think that would work?"

"It has to." Arthur left no room for argument.

"Do you have enough support in the court?" Merlin argued anyway.

"I'll find it. I have a duty to my people, Merlin. This cannot continue." Arthur insisted. Merlin nodded, tucked the new bandage into place, and retreated to his bed for a full night's sleep.

--

He gets one full night with his father, alive. He has a hug and a handful conversations and a gift and a lineage. It's more then he could ever hope for, more then fate afforded Arthur, and it's not enough.

"Balinor told me of the The great dragon." Merlin says quietly on the ride back, not sure if he should. "He said that Uther used him to lure Kilgharrah to Camelot with promises of peace, and then chained him beneath the castle."

"And then tried to have Balinor killed. Making this attack the fault of the king twice over." Arthur accepted with a bitter nod. "As was Morgause's last attack, I'd wager. He was the only one those things tried to harm."

"They attacked you too." Merlin pointed out with a scowl.

"As they should have!" Arthur gritted his teeth. "Morgause must think me as big a hypocrite and cruel coward as the king. And unlike him, she didn't kill any of my people for her grudge."

Merlin didn't stop scowling. He hadn't thought about it like that. It didn't really matter. "That's hardly fair. You haven't done anything, Arthur."

"Isn't that's exactly the problem?" Arthur shook his head. Merlin let the conversation end there. They are close enough to Camelot to smell the smoke, and they have bigger things to worry about.

--

Arthur walks into the throne room and looks blankly on the king. "The last dragon lord is dead." He says, and Merlin can't meet Gaius's eyes. He can't stop his own from watering.

"There were many years I might have wished for that news." Uther sighs. Merlin clenches his jaw.

"Is there anything that can be done? Anything it wants?" Arthur asks.

Uther hesitates, and then shakes his head. "If only. But a monster so mindless is beyond reason. It will kill us all."

Arthur is silent, and Merlin holds his breath. Then he says, "We have to fight it ourselves, then. We will ride out and fight on our own terms- on open ground, on horseback, where we can maneuver better."

"There is no point." The king insists, but is cut off before he can say more.

"We fight for Camelot. There is always a point." The prince looks around the room, meets the eyes of several knights, and turns around. "I'll need at least a dozen knights. Any who wish to remain here can do so without stain on their character. Those brave enough to volunteer should know, the chances of returning are slim."

Sir Leon stands with his back to the king, and is the first to meet Arthur's eyes. Whatever he sees there makes him stand a little taller. A few more knights fall in line with him, but more look to the king.

"You have my blessing." Uther grants, with a small frown, and the more knights follow. Arthur doesn't look at him as walks the knights out of the hall.

--

When they're alone, the prince finds another thread in the growing tapestry of his ire at Uther. "My uncle, too. They say that he hated my father for killing my mother. That he was mad with grief. Another lie."

"Arthur." Merlin tightened the clasps on his shoulder, "Is now really the time?"

"No. Now is too late." He sighed. "Well, look on the bright side Merlin. Chances are you'll never have to clean this again."

--

Merlin watches Arthur's knights prepare for certain death, and decides if Gaius is going to kill him anyway he may as well deserve it.

"There's something else about Balinor." He mummers, struggling with the clasp on his cape. The prince braces himself for another mark against the king's honor, but Merlin always prides himself for keeping the man on his toes. "He isn't the last dragonlord."

Arthur freezes. He looks at his men then back to Merlin, desperation shining in his eyes. "You didn't think to mention this?" He whispers to stop from yelling. 

"Oh, I've thought to," Merlin laughs, "I've thought of little else, really. Balinor said that the powers of a dragonlord die with a father and pass to his son."

"Balinor has a son?" Arthur grabs his wrists before he can get the cape to cooperate. It falls to the floor. Arthur doesn't notice, as he pauses and looks at Merlin's shaking hands. 

"Apparently." Merlin huffed, trying to stay annoyed about the fact instead of crying in the stables. No man deserves your tears rings in his ears, too. He would like to start having his own thoughts again sometime soon, if at all possible, but thinking has felt beyond him for days. He hasn't had the time to try. "Not that anyone thought to tell the poor bastard." 

"Merlin-" Arthur starts, voice finally raised, before catching up to the implication. His grip loosened on his servants hands, and then tightened and pulled him close. "Oh God, Merlin. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Merlin blinked, too shocked by Arthur's action to cry. Too shocked to move, either, as the prince pulls back.

"I shouldn't have said-"

"You're forgiven." Merlin snapped quickly, taking a step back, because he did not want to talk about that. He had just managed to avoid tears again. "But now- now I'm the only person that can stop Kilgharrah. You have to stall the knights."

"Merlin, You can't expect me to let you face that thing alone." Arthur shakes his head. "You aren't even a knight."

"Thank God for that, at least. I've heard they're a bunch of stupid brutes that can't tie their own laces much less face a dragon. I've heard-"

"Merlin. You can't." Arthur insisted.

"That's never stopped me before." Merlin smiled. That much was true, at least. Arthur raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I have to, Arthur. It's my duty."

Arthur's expression tightened. "At least wear armor." He compromised. Merlin nodded even though he hated wearing the stuff, because playing the duty card on Arthur was a dirty move. Arthur crossed his arms and started fiddling with his vambrace.

The metal hits the floor. Before Merlin can react, it's partner does as well.

"Arthur?" Merlin asks, confused. 

"What are you doing just standing there?" Arthur struggles to take his breastplate off, given his limited mobility while working within it, and his wound, but manages after a moment. Merlin didn't know he knew how to do that.

"Just trying to comprehend that you actually can undress yourself." Merlin says. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you armor, isn't it obvious?" Arthur huffs. 

"You need armor. You're the prince." Merlin says. He wonders if he's dreaming, because Arthur's being downright absurd. 

"And you're the one stupid enough to try talking to a dragon." They stared at each other a minute, each waiting for the other to relent. Then Arthur gets a smug smile that means he's found a way to win an argument that Merlin is sure to hate. "Sir Leon! A word?"

The knight is there in an instant, of course. "Your majesty?"

"Merlin left out some key information he learned from Lord Balinor." He tells the knight, ignoring the distressed squeak it earns from his servant. "He seems under the impression it can be reasoned with. I need you to delay the rest of the knights, so I might try to strike an accord with the beast."

Sir Leon looked at Arthur, and then Merlin, and then back to Arthur. He blinked twice. "Your Majesty?" He asked again, a little weakly.

Merlin closed his eyes and hit his head on the pillar beside him. Arthur patted him on the back hard enough he almost fell over.

"I'd tell you more, but it's a very delicate situation. I ask your highest discretion and trust." He says, with that smile that gets people to do what he wants. Merlin slowly counts to ten, and refrains from strangling the crown prince in front of a veteran knight.

".....Yes, your majesty." Sir Leon nods and ducks back around the corner, knowing better then almost anyone how impossible Arthur could be to argue with. Not everyone had Merlin's gift.

"You've gone mad." Merlin glares, "You aren't going with me."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, sporting the most punchable expression he'd worn in months. "The way you talk, it's hard to believe I never thought you a noble before."

"I am not-" He's cut off as Arthur bends over, picks up his bracers, and throws them at his servant. 

"Get on with it, Merlin. I need to be properly protected, if we're going to face a dragon alone."

He hits his head on the wall again, and wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve putting up with the biggest prat he'd ever known.

--

Merlin stands alone in a clearing. By some miracle, he has convinced the prince to wait behind the treeline for a sign of trouble. In the distance, he can see a familiar shadow swooping around the burning citadel.

"Kilgharrah." He says, the name uncomfortable in his mouth, fizzing with a power that was similar to his magic, but not quite the same. He never thought about the skipped introductions in their first interaction- the dragon already knew who he was, and he had weirder and more important things to worry about then manners- but maybe he should have. Something inside him twisted, it burned, it felt like Balinor's firm instruction and steely gaze and warm grasp. "Kilgharrah!" He repeated, drawing that power further up, and it came with a roar loud enough to shake the trees. "Erkheo! Anale tendai gard amasen fulakson!"

He hears a roar, and then the great impact of a creature the size of the castle landing. It's a softer sound on grass, then it was in the cave. it's a closer one too. Merlin puts a hand on the sword Arthur had insisted he wear, and looked up at the dragon. 

"Dragorn, Non didlkai. Kari miss, epsipass imalla krat. Katostar abore ceriss." The dragon lowered his eyes, looking away from Merlin. He stood taller in response, because this needed to work. For Camelot. For Arthur. "Katicur. Me ta sentende divoless!"

The dragon lowered his head. Merlin felt the power still between them, even if he had finished speaking. They were connected, as his father had mentioned. They were kin.

He was a threat to Camelot. Merlin tightened his grip on the sword, remembered sleepless nights of burnt rot as he and Gaius struggled to save as many injured as they could, and slowly drew it from it's sheath.

"I am the last of my kind, Merlin." The other finally spoke, "Whatever wrongs I have done, do not make me responsible for the death of my noble breed."

Merlin's arm froze, and his throat went dry. He didn't want to do this, but he would if Arthur needed him to.

"Kilgharrah." A new voice called, as if summoned by Merlin's thought. 

"fere oὐ vlave." Merlin hissed before the prince could get any closer. He feels the command fall into place without any resistance, and gets two glares for his interruption. He glares right back, because Arthur is an idiot and Kilgharrah is a threat, and if they didn't want to be treated as such then they'd have to show it.

"The Once and Future King." Kilgharrah greeted, bowing his head again. 

"No, I'm Prince Arthur, of Camelot." He corrected, coming up to stand beside Merlin, "The very same Camelot you've been razing for over a week, now." Killgharrah gave a low grumble that Merlin, with much experience eliciting it, recognized as a sound of annoyance. Arthur, who had just been growled at by a dragon nearly as tall as the surrounding trees, raised his hand to silence it so he could keep speaking. Merlin almost laughed at the absurdity. "The very same Camelot that, my friend here has brought to my attention, you have been wrongfully imprisoned under for at least...twenty years?" Arthur frowned. "Merlin, how old are you again?"

"What?" Merlin asked, still stuck on Arthur calling them friends. 

"Lord Balinor was called upon often to ensure his loyalty to the crown amidst the great purge, but only prompted to bring me on a singular special occasion. On the second anniversary of your birth, Uther gathered many great powers for peace talks, swearing that all who bent the knee to him would be spared." Kilgharrah took a deep breath. Merlin was sure the memory still grieved him. "Many died that day, many of mine and Merlin's kin, and if Uther had his way, it would have been more still. He intended to kill every sorcerer and beast foolish enough to seek peace with a tyrant."

The clearing was silent, as the young men took the story in. They looked at each other for guidance, but neither of them knew quite what to say to that. Merlin hadn't had time yet to consider that, if he had a father, then he might have once had more relatives as well. Arthur took a deep breath and nodded, looking back to the dragon that loomed above.

"Twenty-one years, then." He said, tone measured. "So, while I have no intention of forgiving your slaughter of my people, my priorities currently lie elsewhere, with a greater injustice still. It is there I assume we align."

Kilgharrah raised his head and lowered his back legs. "That may be a fair assumption, young king. I'm sure your judgement, when it comes, will be more then fair." His lips pulled back in something approximating a smile on his scaley face. Merlin hadn't seen it since Uther had married that troll. "And not just on my own account."

Arthur nodded. "Good. Now, I must demand you leave my kingdom. It has suffered your terror long enough."

"I swear, you have nothing to fear from me Arthur Pendragon." The dragon opened his wings, and Merlin took a step back to avoid the breeze. Arthur followed. "Even without our understanding, your friend here made quite sure of that."

With that the dragon flew off. Merlin sagged, biting back a curse, fighting down a blush. He knew with an immediate certainty that Kilgharrah was never going to let him live that little proclamation down, after, admittedly, many long hours over the years of bearing the brunt of Merlin's complaints about the man standing beside him.

"Right." Arthur didn't relax until several minutes later, when the dragon was far enough away not to be seen. "Honestly, that went better then I thought."

Merlin sat down, staring at the stars and relaxing for the first time in over a week. He carefully decided not to think about how Arthur thought it was going to go, and, for that matter, why he would step out of the brush in the first place. 

--

When he wakes up, he is staring at a wall. 

This is concerning because last he remembered he was outside, and not asleep. It was only made worse by the fact that he recognized that wall, like he did every other corner of this impossibly dusty room. He recognized the luxurious mattress under him as well, though this was his first time waking on it. 

Most of all, he recognized the man laying beside him.

"No wonder you're such a pain to get up in the mornings." Merlin huffed, sitting up. The sky was just starting to lighten with a sunrise; he had to go get breakfast, before he drag Arthur to consciousness with him.

"It must've been hard." a voice said as he sat up, and Merlin blinked.First he could dress himself, and now he could wake himself up- why did he even keep Merlin around, besides to be an ass?

"It is a bed of feathers, my lord." He blinks, wondering if perhaps he was still asleep. Dreaming of soft beds and competent princes.

"Not the mattress, you idiot." The prince threw a pillow at him in the dark, and the world started to make a little sense again. 

"Oh. But you already knew that waking you in the morning is hell? You've made sure of it, even." He ducks the second pillow thrown at him as he properly stands up, and the third misses so impressively that he doesn't remember to dodge the fourth. "Case in point."

"Merlin." Arthur groaned, sitting up, also properly awake, "I'm being serious."

"Really?" Merlin scrunched up his nose, debating between disbelief and disgust, "You didn't know that you're a right twit in the morning? I've never been quiet on the matter," He tilted his head, considering, "Although, I'm sure I could stand to say it more. You can be quite dull, especially before breakfast."

"Merlin!" The prince hissed. He wasn't kidding about being serious, but Merlin looked around the room and honestly couldn't tell what had him in such a state.

"What?" He prompted. All else failing, Arthur could always be relied upon to make any and all complaints crystal clear. "If it's about the bed, I honestly don't remember how I got there, it won't happen again. I don't really remember anything after getting rid of Kilgharrah." Arthur chose now to go quiet, because he always had the worst timing with these things. Merlin stood straighter, going to the window to look outside. "He didn't come back, did he?"

"No, Merlin, just- What I mean to say, is that it must have been difficult, telling me all you did yesterday. You risked your life just sharing your secrets with me, and then faced a dragon alone to top it all off." 

"Right. I did." Merlin swallowed, because he was kind of hoping they wouldn't talk about it. "It was. I should have told you about your mother sooner." 

"You never should have lied to me about her in the first place." Arthur corrected, standing up. "You should have let me end Uther's tyranny months ago."

"Arthur." Merlin sighed, because they had already talked about this, and he had little interest in doing it again.

"I know why you didn't. But you should have. Camelot suffered so you could spare my feelings." Arthur stepped around the bed and to the window, standing beside him. They both watched the way Camelot dared to come to life below.

"And you think Camelot would have prospered, under a king mad with guilt?" Merlin rolled his eyes, "We've already seen how that plays out, I think." 

The prince was close enough, now, for Merlin to see his flinch in the periphery. Merlin's heart dropped.

"I suppose you're right." Arthur said, voice even in a way Merlin was starting to hate. What happened to them being friends?

"No, Arthur I didn't mean that." Merlin shook his head. "I don't think you're mad. Just that an unhappy king makes for a weaker kingdom."

"Is that why you're here then, Merlin? To keep your king happy?"

Merlin couldn't help but chuckle at the question. "I thought we were being serious?" Arthur glared at him, and Merlin shook his head and, kindly, didn't laugh again. "Arthur, I've never done anything just to make anyone happy, least of all you. And if I did, it wouldn't be because you're destined to rule Camelot."

"Oh really?" Arthur asked, miming offense, but Merlin could see that he had already relaxed. "Why else is there?"

Merlin smiled, ready to say something about getting out of chores, but for the second time in as many days he remembered something he owed Arthur.

"Because we're friends." He says, only a little vengeful as he turned to watch Arthur's reaction. The prince doesn't disappoint, coughing and then sputtering, running a hand down his face to mask it's slowly but stubbornly changing color. Merlin gives a satisfied hum, and considers them even for the endless teasing Kilgharrah was sure to provide, whenever they would meet again.

"Are we?" Arthur finally settled on, suddenly sounding very small, and mirth drained from Merlin like a hole in a cheesecloth. He was looking out the window again. "After everything the king has done to you, to your family, I wouldn't blame you for wanting distance from the crown." Arthur, for lack of a better term, started to fidget. Merlin blinked, unsure what to do with this shadow of his friend. "Balinor was a good man. He didn't deserve what happened to him. I'd bet he wasn't the only one that didn't."

Merlin decided not to call Arthur an idiot for taking such a self-pitying tone about crimes done when he was a toddler, because he was a good friend, but it was a close thing. "You are not your father. His mistakes are not yours."

Arthur nodded slowly, like he didn't quite believe it but wasn't willing to argue the point just yet. Merlin's eyes narrowed. "He is no father to me, after what he's done to my people. But as heir to the throne, his mistakes are my responsibility by inheritance."

"Perhaps, but they are not your fault." Merlin pressed. As a rule, he kept himself ready to argue every point. Just another burden of his position.

Arthur wouldn't meet his eyes. "His greatest mistake was my birth." The man whispered, a horrible secret, "If he hadn't, then my mother-"  

"Didn't blame you. She loved you." Merlin reminded him, having finally graduated to fully glaring. "Don't tell me you've forgotten."

"Of course I haven't. But we don't really know that it was her, do we? It could have been an illusion from Morgouse. Even if the history was real, that doesn't mean she was."

He looked out the window, and took a deep breath. There was still another secret hanging in the air between them. It wasn't one he owed Arthur. It was one he wanted to give him anyway, though. Had wanted to for years. It was a secret as impossible to keep as it was to reveal.

Merlin had one full night with his father, alive. He had a hug and a handful conversations. A gift and a lineage. It's more then he could ever hope for, and it's not enough, and Arthur had far less. Arthur had one short conversation with a ghost, and he couldn't believe he had even that much. If Merlin wasn't honest just now, he never would be.

"It was her." Merlin said, and can't stop himself from taking a step back. A last ditch attempt at cowardice. "That spell was no illusion."

"Thank you Merlin." Arthur nodded, smile small and grateful and wrong. "I'd like to think so, too. But that doesn't change-"

"I'm not being nice." Merlin interrupted. "I have magic. I could understand the spell. It wasn't an illusion, it was a summons. Your mother's ghost wasn't told to do anything but help you, and from where I stood she seemed only happy to."

Arthur stares at him. "You practice magic." He says, blankly, like the words didn't fit on his tongue. Merlin could relate. It felt just as weird for him to say. "For how long?"

"I have magic." Merlin corrected gently. It felt important. "I've had it my entire life." 

"That's not possible. I would have known." Arthur said, then punctuated like a closing argument, "You're my friend."

 "I am." Merlin nodded. "Always. And I have magic."

"Always." Arthur said, and then nothing else. Merlin waited a long moment, for either condemnation or absolution.

Instead, Arthur's stomach grumbled, and Merlin realized they hadn't eaten in...well. At least half a day, probably more. He walked to the door, figuring Arthur could do with time and breakfast both.

"Stay. Send someone else to bring breakfast." Arthur sighed, walking to his desk. The sun had risen enough that he didn't need to light a candle to see, as he sat down. "Apparently, we have much more to work to do then I thought."

The warlock paused. He looked at the stack of books that had not been in the room last he had cleaned it. He wondered how long Arthur had stayed awake last night after, Merlin has taken far too long to realize, laying him to sleep in his own bed. He said, "I'd really rather go get breakfast."

"Come now Merlin." The prince smiled too wide, and Merlin took another step towards the door. "That's hardly a task befitting a man of noble blood."

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relaxing completely for what very well might be the first time in his life. "I'm going to get breakfast." He said, instead of an insult or threat, because he was in a good mood. 

--

"Oh, Merlin." Gaius immediately rushed to him, hands shaking, when he entered their room. "My boy...worried me half to death, you did."

"Didn't mean to." Merlin hugged his uncle back, and whispered, "I felt him there with me, Gaius." He said, remembering the night before.

"Of course you did. He will always be with you." Gaius held him tighter, not asking question, not yet. "I know I will never compare to your father. But for what it's worth- you still have me."

Just like he knew it would, any resentment that dare linger after the news of his father disappeared, replaced with the familiar and comfortable love. "I suppose I'll just have to make due." He said, pulling back and smiling at the man he knew would always care for him. 

That doesn't mean he wouldn't yell at him, though.

"Just what happened?" Gaius asked, concern lingering in his gaze. It always did, to one degree or another.

"I told Arthur everything." He said, because he figured this was a 'rip the bandage off' situation. 

"Are you alright?" Gaius asked immediately, looking him over. Merlin's heart broke a little, knowing Gaius was so sure that Arthur would hurt him. 

"Never better." He said, honestly, smiling as wide as he could. He really never meant to worry Gaius.

"Oh, Merlin." Gaius sagged with relief, determining he wasn't lying, and then opened his mouth and started to rant. 

"I'm also late with the Prince's breakfast!" Merlin interrupted, before he could get too far into laying out every worry Merlin had spawned, and Gaius urgently shooed him out of the room. Merlin hurried down the hall, steps light and sure. The sun was high enough in the sky that it was nearly lunch, and Arthur was going to murder him for skipping out on whatever political torture he had divised to occupy his own mind, and then decided to make Merlin's problem somehow.

He had, in so few words, never been better. He finally grabbed Arthur's breakfast tray- long cold- alongside his lunch- just finished, with a glare from the cook that Merlin winked at, dodging a thrown spoon out of the kitchen- and went to face his destiny.

--