Chapter Text
Five days, Merlin thought miserably. He couldn’t have said something in just six more days? Just last night, Arthur had confided in him that the council had been thinking about Uther’s mental state.
Or rather the lack of it.
The strain of Morgana’s loss on the old bastard hadn’t gone unnoticed.
If only that was the only thing that went unnoticed.
“Hey!” Merlin protested as the guards dragged him down the corridor. “I’m coming peacefully. No need to get violent.”
A guard scoffed and tightened his grip on Merlin’s arm, muttering about the untrustworthiness of sorcerers.
Five days, Merlin moaned in his head. Five more days and the council was going to vote to force Uther to step aside and Arthur to become prince regent.
Six more days and everyone would just have assumed Uther was crazy. Arthur could have protected him.
They arrive in the throne room. The guards throw him on the floor, his knees hitting the cold stone. It hurts and it’s so different than when Lancelot and Gwaine brought him to the dungeon after the initial accusation, swearing to get him out (but Merlin had told Lance he’d handle this, much to his friend’s chagrin), but nothing worse than what Merlin has suffered before.
He looks up and while his knees don’t hurt worse than the Serket, Arthur’s careful face does. There’s no emotion at all. It’s like someone replaced him with a very life-like statue. Merlin would assume someone had cursed him if not for the fact that he saw his prince blink.
All his other friends look concerned, worried, distraught. Gwen is close to sobbing on the side. He can see Lance and Gwaine nervously eyeing Uther, tense in a way that makes Merlin think they’d commit treason at Merlin’s nod. Elyan is comforting Gwen, his grip firm and fearful and worried. He’s not sure if it’s for him or his sister. Percival is definitely worried and looking at Lancelot, trying to ask if they’re committing treason today or not. Hell, even Leon seems to be considering it. Not nearly as much as the other three, but he looks conflicted, torn between knowing Merlin and his duty to the crown.
Gaius is careful, much more careful than the others. His expression is nearly indifferent, but Merlin doesn’t blame him. Gaius knows he has magic and that while these charges are preposterous, he is technically guilty of being a sorcerer. Gaius knows that for sure and unlike Lance, he isn’t young. He can’t risk his position, as a voice of quiet reason in the court.
But Arthur? Arthur stirs a storm in Merlin’s gut, a storm that feels something like rage. He meets Arthur’s eyes. Arthur still shows nothing on his face, but does avert his eyes.
I do everything for you, Merlin wants to scream.
He looks and looks and looks. He knows Arthur so well. He knows the mask.
And he can, for once, not see behind it.
“You stand here today, uh….” Uther begins then looks around.
He doesn’t even know Merlin’s name. Merlin rolls his eyes. Gaius winces on the side, but Merlin can’t make himself care.
Uther looks to Arthur, the silent question clear.
I use magic in Camelot for you.
No one breathes. The court is quiet enough to hear the crickets wherever Killgarrah currently is as Arthur mutters, “Merlin,” so softly it’s like he doesn’t want anyone to hear.
You know how stupid that is!
But everyone does. It’s the only sound.
Look at me!
“Merlin,” Uther continues confidently. “You stand-”
“Do I?” Merlin mutters, the stone still digging into his kneecaps.
“-here accused of sorcery. How do you plead?”
Don’t you care at all!
“How do you plead?”
Arthur!
“How do you plead, boy?” Uther spat.
LOOK AT ME!
Arthur’s gaze is fixed on the doors behind Merlin. Typical.
“Not guilty,” Merlin spits out. “That wasn’t even magic.”
“The smoke looked like a cat!” Uther protests.
“Like a cat sitting down, which is a relatively nondescript shape!”
“So you admit it looked like a cat!”
“Only vaguely. God, not everything is sorcery, you stupid arrogant old coot!”
The court gasps. Gaius looks like he wants to melt into the floor. Gwaine looks five seconds away from bursting into laughter, which will likely get him banished again. Lance also looks like he wants to laugh, but only because Merlin knows what to look for.
“That’s treason, boy,” Uther spits back.
“And so is magic. God, make up your mind on what reason you’ve decided on for executing.”
“I SAW YOU!” Uther roars. “You were smiling at the smoke! You were making a mockery of Sir Ulfius’ funeral!”
“Sir Ulfius was my friend!” Merlin shoots back. “I was remembering him.” The emotions come unbidden. Ulfius was a good man who’d helped show him the ropes when Arthur refused to in the early days. Merlin had helped Gaius deliver his daughter. “The good times.”
“Knights are not friends with servants.”
“Bullshit,” Merlin replies. “I plead not guilty.”
“My Lord,” Leon, fucking Leon, begins.
Uther holds a hand, silencing him. Leon shoots Merlin a sympathetic glance. “I know what I saw. You will be burned at dawn.”
Merlin sighs.
Six more days.
He’d only needed six days. Arthur would never have done this.
But Merlin thinks, eyeing his prince as the guards drag him away, maybe not. Maybe Arthur would have come to the same conclusions.
That happy thought occupies him the entire way back to the cells. They throw him onto the floor. Merlin barely moves, not until Gaius has called his name more times than Merlin wants to know.
“Hmm?” he asks, turning to the bars.
“Thank, God,” Gaius mutters. “I was worried you were in shock.” He slyly smiles. “Or going deaf.”
It’s such a bad joke, Merlin can’t help but snort. “The first one,” he shrugs. “What is it?”
“Uther can’t be persuaded. I tried, Merlin.” He looks downcast. “I am so sorry.”
“I’m sure you did all you could,” Merlin assures him with an easy grin. “It’s okay, Gaius. I’ve snuck people out of these cells for years without getting caught. I think I can get myself out just fine.”
“Where will you go?”
“Can’t say,” he teases. “It’s a secret.”
Gaius smiles. “I’ll miss you, my boy.”
Merlin smiles softly, tears welling. “Don’t worry Gaius. I have a feeling I won’t be far.”
Gaius catches his drift instantly. “Merlin, that’s dangerous.”
“That’s destiny,” Merlin counters. “I can’t give up now. You know Arthur wouldn’t last a day without me. Especially with Morgana who knows where now.”
“But how-”
Merlin waves him off. “I’ll figure it out. Could you have my book out for me tonight?” Gaius nods. “Thanks.” The footsteps of the guards grow louder. “Looks like time’s up.”
“Indeed.”
They stay there, watching each other, waiting until they’re told time is up.
Gwen is next to visit. She’s still crying, telling Merlin he’ll be missed. She swears she tried to talk to Arthur, but Merlin cuts her off. He doesn’t want to know. He tries to persuade her it’ll be okay.
“It’s days like this when I think I understand Morgana,” Gwen admits.
“You don’t mean that,” Merlin counters.
“I know. I mean, I will never support what she did to innocents, but it’s this that makes me understand her rage at Uther. I wish he could get a taste of his own medicine for once.”
“I know,” Merlin confesses. “He will die one day, Gwen. And then Arthur will be king, and he’ll be different and better king than Uther.”
Gwen smiles. “That’s not hard, Merlin.”
They share a laugh, but it’s tainted. Gwen’s already mourning him. Merlin wishes she wouldn’t, but she is.
Next is Gwaine with a very rushed plan to get him out. Merlin spends the entire time trying to convince him not to jeopardize his position, but Gwaine keeps winking at him and Merlin tries to piece together the rush of information Gwaine threw at him. He needs to escape before Gwaine can enact that plan. Hadn’t he heard something about a chicken stampede and beer cheese apples? Merlin didn’t even want to know.
When Lancelot visits, he asks if Merlin needs him to do anything.
“Keep Gwaine from doing whatever he’s planning,” Merlin instantly replies.
Lancelot nods. “Do you think Gaius has something I could slip in his ale?”
“Definitely.”
Percival and Elyan come next. Neither know him that well, and they admit it, but they both say they’re sorry he’s going to be killed. That he seems nice. Innocent.
Leon just brings him dinner with a nod and a smile. Silent, there, solid. I’m here and I’m sorry. I wish I could do more. I’ll look after them all. It’s so Leon, Merlin nearly cries.
The sun sets.
The one person Merlin wants to see doesn’t visit.
He won’t pretend it doesn’t sting.
Merlin lies to everyone. the King. The other servants. The knights. His friends. Gwen. Lance sometimes. Gaius. And….
And Arthur.
He lies so much to Arthur.
He’s the only exception. He realized it after a month in Camelot.
Back in Ealdor, if he wanted to lie to himself, it was fine. He could bottle up and run into the woods when it was time for it to all explode out of him.
He couldn’t do that here. He couldn’t level the trees then watch them regrow. Someone would see. It or him. Then there’d be a witch hunt. Another.
So Merlin let himself feel everything. He felt before it boiled over.
The sun set and darkness fell over Camelot.
Arthur hadn’t come.
Dinner had passed. Lance would have had time to drug Gwaine’s wine.
It’s time, Merlin, he thinks to himself.
He holds his hand to the lock. “Oncluce þe.”
The cell door springs open.
Merlin scrambles out, carefully muttering, “Ne un clyse,” to lock the cell doors again.
Sneaking past the guards is child’s play. Laughably easy.
What’s not so laughable is meeting Gwaine in the corridor, clutching several ropes, each attached to a chicken.
They blink at each other.
“You’re supposed to be knocked out.”
Gwaine laughs. “You’re supposed to be in a cell.”
Footsteps grow louder, one person running towards them, if Merlin is correct (he is, he’s spent too much time listening to how footsteps sound on the citadel’s stone floors, estimating enemies).
“Stay quiet,” Merlin mutters to Gwaine, shoving the knight behind him.
“Mer-”
Merlin’s glare cuts him off. He holds out a hand, ready.
“Gwaine!” an out of breath hisses, causing the sleep spell to die on his lips.
Merlin lets his hand fall. Lancelot rounds the corner. He sees them and skitters to a halt.
“Merlin,” Lancelot gets out between wheezes, “I’m sorry. He didn’t drink anything.”
“It’s fine, Lance,” Merlin assures him. He turns to Gwaine. “Thanks for caring, Gwaine, it means a lot, but I’ve got this from here. Listen to Lance, please?”
Gwaine looks between the two of them. “How, Merlin?”
Merlin shrugs and tells Lance, “Help him get those chickens back where they belong, will you?”
Lance nods. “Good luck, Merlin.”
Merlin’s smile is wiry. “I don’t need it. See ya Gwaine. Lance.”
He sets off, leaving the stunned faces behind him.
He knows he should get to Gaius. He needs to collect his book before anyone discovers it. The physician’s chamber will be one of the first places the guards will look once they realize he’s escaped.
Yet….
Merlin is just a man.
And there’s one more person he needs to see before he becomes a ghost.
It’s the plan. Sneak around the citadel. Live in the abandoned rooms, sneak food from the kitchens, use invisibility spells to watch Arthur like a hawk.
Fulfill his destiny, but from even further in the shadows than he already was.
Sneaking into Arthur’s chambers wasn’t as easy as getting out of the dungeons. But Merlin never uses the servant’s chamber, so it’s locked and unguarded. He still needs to get there, but magic makes everything easier.
Merlin darts up the stairs, a silent spell opening the door, and then he’s greeted to the sight of Arthur’s familiar chambers.
But this wasn’t the sight Merlin had expected to find.
He’d expected to find the fire out, everything in its place, Arthur deep in sleep and strewn across his pillows.
No, the fire’s still burning, if very low. And the chambers are a mess, like no one had picked up since the morning. Arthur himself stands, fully clothed, in front of the servant’s door with his sword poised to skewer, his knuckles pale as flash of lightning.
“Arthur?” Merlin whispers.
Arthur gulps. He doesn’t lower his sword. His gaze is hard, unreadable like it had been in the throne room earlier. “How did you escape the dungeons?”
“Arthur,” Merlin repeats. Arthur brings the tip to an inch from his throat, his hands completely steady. “Arthur,” Merlin pleads, “put the sword down.”
Arthur says nothing. Merlin steps forward and Arthur takes a matching step back, his sword still exactly where it had been. Merlin takes another and another. Arthur matches him each time until they’re in the center of the room.
“What are you doing here?” Arthur asks. He seems like he wants to demand it, but it comes out tired more than anything.
“I had to see you,” Merlin replies. It’s the truth.
He’d wanted to kneel by Arthur’s bed and mutter what he never could say to his prince’s face. I love you. I won’t abandon you. You won’t see me, but I’ll still be here, protecting you. You’re going to live for a long time and make a great king one day.
“So you could kill me?” Arthur asked resentfully.
I love you.
Merlin’s heart stops for a moment. “Do you really believe that?”
I’m sorry.
He knows Arthur doesn’t. If he really did, Merlin would already be dead.
“Isn’t that what all sorcerers want? My entire family dead?”
I want to stay here. With you.
The only sign of the flinch Merlin presses down is a quick quirk of his lips.
“And you believe that I want you dead?” he demands. “After everything we’ve been through? I….” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand, Arthur. I don’t. You believe your father? You think-”
Arthur adjusts the sword so the tip presses into his skin. Not enough to cut his skin, but it would at the slightest movement.
Merlin takes a step back.
“You think I’m a sorcerer?” Merlin whispers.
I’d live by your side forever if I could.
“How am I supposed to know, Merlin?” Arthur demands, his voice raising. It’s the most emotion Merlin’s seen since he was dragged to the cells. “I thought Morgana was loyal. I thought she was my friend. I….” His voice breaks. “I loved her like a sister. And look what happened. She betrayed me. She killed my people. Tried to kill me. Conquered Camelot. So what am I supposed to think, huh? Want to answer that?”
Even though I know you’d never feel the same about me, I’d stay. Always. Through everything.
“You’re supposed to think for yourself, Arthur,” Merlin replies gently. “What happened with Morgana is awful and I know how much it hurts. She was my friend too. But you saw that cloud. It wasn't magic. It’s just your father’s grief making him see things that aren’t there. It’s why you’re going to be regent soon. We both know this. Come on, Arthur. You know me.”
Through bandits and armies.
“I knew Morgana.”
Through beasts and assassins.
“Morgana’s been getting angry for a long time. You can’t say you didn’t see it. And that doesn’t make it your fault,” Merlin hastily adds, knowing exactly where his prince would take that thought. “She lied about being okay. She lied so much. It’s not your fault you ignored her anger because she told you it was okay, that she got over it. She lied and it’s not your fault trusting someone who, for the entire time you’ve known her, has been loyal and trustworthy.”
Through those hunts I hate but I know you love.
“Grettir,” Arthur grits out.
Through the insults.
“What?” Merlin breathes.
Through mucking the stables.
“Grettir. You must have met him. You followed me, when I told you not to. You must have met him. He told me that I needed strength, courage, and magic to complete my quest. He called me courage. You and Gwaine followed so, logically, one of you is strength and one is magic.”
Through the pitchers you insist on throwing at my head.
“And Merlin, you are a twig. There’s no way you are strength. Gwaine fits much better. And he doesn’t seem like he’d be magic, but then again,” Arthur laughs bitterly, “neither do you. So, I told myself that Grettir must be lying, trying to get me to turn on my most loyal ally. There’s no way you have magic. I would know. You can’t lie, Merlin. I would know.” His voice breaks. “So, Merlin, are you going to answer my question?”
Because you are worth it Arthur. Everything I’ve had to do for you is worth it because I’m doing it for you.
“How did you escape the dungeons?”
Goodbye Arthur. I hope I can return one day.
“Arthur-”
I really meant it. I’m happy to be your servant ‘til the day I die.
“How?”
So I’ll be back if I can. Goodbye. Don’t get a bootlicker, prat.
Merlin has so much he wants to say to Arthur.
He just laughs.
“So, that’s it?” he asks, his turn to be bitter. Water starts pricking at the edges of his eyes. “I might have magic and I’m the enemy? Everything means nothing? Protecting you. Warning you about enemies? Serving no matter what? Advising, making sure you don’t make dumb choices? Going on patrols without armor despite no one else bringing their servant without complaint? All of it means nothing? All of my loyalty is met with none in return?” He presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head. “No, it is. You did warn me the guards were coming with Catrina. Everything you know I’ve done means something if I might be a thief, but God forbid I might have made a shape in the clouds. No, that gets me a sword at my throat!” He’s crying now. Crying and yelling. “The objectively less harmful act is what you’d kill me for!”
The guards run into the chamber. They’re not complete idiots.
But Merlin has no time for this or them. He isn’t done.
“Swefe nu.”
His eyes go gold. The guards collapse into sleep.
Arthur’s beautiful blue eyes widen.
Merlin’s eyes glow again as the chamber door closes and locks itself.
“You-” Arthur begins.
“I’m. Not. Done,” Merlin hisses. “Ecg misse!” His eyes glow again and Arthur’s sword falls out of his hands. A flick of Merlin’s hand and it soars across the chamber, out of Arthur’s reach. “You have no id-” He shakes his head. “No, you do understand a little, what it’s like to be trapped by destiny, but you have no idea what it’s like to live as a warlock in Camelot, to have to repress something so ingrained at your core, you were born with golden eyes! You don’t know what it was like to grow up scared and then come to the one place that would kill you instantly, only for some dumb fucking lizard with wings to keep calling you in your head until you’re sneaking into a cave in the middle of the night!
“And do you know what Kilgharrah told me?” Merlin can barely see Arthur’s shocked face through his own tears, but it feels so good to let it out for once, to let the prince hear it. “He told me the purpose of my magic was to protect you, the Once and Future King, who would one day unite the land of Albion. And do you know what I told him?”
Arthur shakes his head. “Mer-”
“That he must be thinking of another Arthur, because this one’s an idiot. And I’ve done it. Even when I didn’t like you, I dropped a chandelier on that sorceress. I sped down time to get you out of the way of her knife. Have I complained? So much because some days, it’s like you want to die. Do I wish this was literally anyone else’s fate? Yeah, but,” His tone changes, softens in a way he can’t help, “but I got to meet you because of it. And I’ve been glad for that. Everything I am, is for you. I was born to serve you and I’ve been proud of that. I wouldn’t change a thing. And while I don’t know the last time I’ve really had a break, it’s been okay. I’ve never needed the credit. I’ve never done it for the credit. I’ve just needed to stay.” Merlin presses his mouth into a line for a line, staring at his prince with all of his emotions visible for once. “And you can hold a sword to my throat.”
It’s a betrayal, the coin of their friendship snapped in half. Merlin lets it show before turning around and walking back to the servant’s chamber. He has places to be. Part of him thinks Arthur will call out or try to stop him. Maybe try to fix this.
But Arthur says nothing.
Still, Merlin hesitates in the doorway before disappearing entirely. “The guards. They’re just asleep, sire. They’ll wake up in a few hours.”
Merlin waits. Say something, he wants to beg. Fight for us, for what we have. I know I’m not just a servant to you. I’m your friend. Act like it.
But Arthur keeps saying nothing.
So Merlin walks away, the door swinging shut behind him with a definitive thud.
It feels like closing a book on his life. One of Gaius’ thick ones that exudes dust when dropped on the table. One of the ones he’s used to research whatever monster or spell decided to kill Arthur this week.
It’s the end. No more words to the epic of Merlin and Arthur. Arthur and Merlin. Now they’re just Merlin of Ealdor. Just Prince Arthur Pendragon. Two separate coins, not one.
Merlin manages to not cry as he sneaks back to Gaius’ chambers.
Unsurprisingly, the old man is waiting for him.
“Where have you been?” he hisses as Merlin picks up his grimoire from the work table.
“Just needed to take care of something,” Merlin replies lightly. “Don’t worry, Gaius. They won’t catch me.”
The alarm bells begin ringing.
Seriously Arthur? he thinks grumpily. Couldn’t even let me try to get away?
“Aaand that’s my cue,” Merlin adds, giving his mentor/father figure a winning smile.
“Are you ready?” Gaius asks him.
Merlin could laugh. He could admit that there’s nothing he’s less sure of now. He could say he’s scared.
All of that would be true, if he said it.
But he knows none of it matters. Whether he’s ready or not hasn’t mattered since before he came to Camelot. It’s a luxury for other people, not people with destinies and problems they’re apparently the only one qualified to deal with, no matter their experience level.
Instead, he nods. “I am.”
The epic is shelved, tucked away with the rest of the books.
Another one is pulled from the shelves and opened to it’s first page.
Its opening line reads: Merlin took a deep breath and began chanting an invisibility spell….