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Chapter Text

Merlin had concluded it was just something that happened because of his Magic. He had grown up with strange whispers in his ear, people telling him that he had been born with a gift that was dangerous. Occasionally, he could see those people, no more than grey wisps of smoke than hung in the air before vanishing. Most were sorcerers, creatures of Magic that spoke of the Purge in a way that supported what his Mother had said.

He was special, yes, but he was in great danger. Each person he spoke to had died in a horrible way, burned or beheaded or chased from their homes, from the oldest men to the youngest of children. The great Uther Pendragon, they told him, deserved death.

In Camelot, there were a lot more spirits. They clung to the dungeons, wandered around the markets and through the training grounds, looking rather lost. Merlin, by this point, had long learned that it was best not to admit he could see them. His Uncle wasn’t sure Camelot was a very safe place for a man that could see the ghosts of the Purge, but when he was appointed Arthur’s manservant, it became clear that he had to stay.

Ghosts avoided Arthur. He didn’t know why, but it was a pattern he picked up on quickly enough. They would see him, and the wisps of energy would vanish, retreating off to the far corners of the Castle or to stalk Uther. Merlin, for the most part, never bothered to acknowledge that he could see them. Sometimes, it was harder than he expected. Whenever a person was dragged in and accused of sorcery, it was Merlin that had to watch them burn, then watch as they stepped out of their body and looked around.

Sometimes, he’d even dare to meet their eye.

The thing about the victims of the Purge, was that they had knowledge. A couple were able to confirm the rumours of Morgana’s heritage, some spoke to him of the fact that Nimueh had been Uther’s friend, his Court Sorcerer. Merlin listened to the stories with interest, even managed to befriend a few of the ghosts that stayed in Camelot.

The ones that he met outside the walls of the Castle were less friendly. They didn’t trust him, not when he had betrayed his own kind to serve the son of their murderer. Some even tried to attack, but they could never touch him, even if he lost a lot of sleep because of Ghosts lingering in his room.

The first person he told, Gaius and his Mum aside, was Morgana. The Witch was discovering her powers, and so he admitted that he had Magic, and that he could see the people that died during the Purge. Anybody accused of sorcery, not just those who actually had the gift. The Witch was horrified, spent days listening to Merlin’s stories.

When she asked if he felt their pain, the Warlock had teared up. Of course he felt their pain, had to explain to children why they were stuck wandering the earth. He also showed her how he tried to send them on, giving them a nudge back towards the place they were supposed to stay.

They bonded quickly, and the ghosts seemed to find this amusing. They would follow them as they snuck out to practice Magic, or would watch Merlin as he waited on the dinner table of the Royal Pendragons. Morgana, for her part, never pushed too far.

It proved useful, to have the ability to speak to the dead. He could talk to them about what they had learned, about the spells they had used and the methods they adopted to practice their gift. He began to write down their teachings, into a grimoire that both him and Morgana could use. They wrote in the old language, occasionally in Latin, dipping into other languages that the ghosts could speak.

Most of them were ordinary people, but some were more intriguing. A couple from the continent, some from the furthest stretches of Albion, and Merlin listened to the stories while doing his chores or cleaning out the stables.

Lancelot was the second person he told, and the Knight looked horrified. It didn’t help that Merlin had been struggling for a couple of days with a particularly stubborn ghost that was trying to tempt him to kill the King of Camelot.

Arthur remained a repellent to the ghosts, driving them away as he moved around the Castle. As he grew into the role of Prince, Merlin encouraged him to learn about some of the old practices. It was subtle things, but Arthur was always responsive to learning, even if he would try and deny it.

The night that Uther Pendragon had a heart attack, Merlin finally found out why Arthur wasn’t haunted by ghosts. The King had been declared dead, found by his son, and the Prince had locked himself into his Chambers. Merlin propped himself up outside of the door, smiled to those that passed. The Round Table Knights, the ones that Uther never approved of, stayed for a while. Gwaine told him lewd stories about the Taverns, Percival whispered about the Druids that Merlin wanted to know more of. Elyan and Gwen were tucked side by side, Lancelot sat beside Morgana.

Leon was supposed to be sorting the household, but even he came to sit with them as they sat outside the Prince’s Chambers. When night fell, they eventually began to depart, and Merlin was left in the corridor by himself.

It had to be the middle of the night when he woke, felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up in warning of the arrival of a ghost. None of them came close to the Prince, but perhaps now that he was a King, they would attack? Merlin prepared, went as far as to light the torch opposite him with his Magic, illuminating the corridor in front.

The woman was not a wisp of grey, but a figure of blue light, with a gown that reached the floor. A warm smile, eyes softening when she spotted Merlin, and the Warlock didn’t need to ask to know who she was.

‘Your Majesty.’ He murmured, slowly bending his back into a bow as he stared at Arthur’s Mother. Ygraine took another step towards him, lips curling up at the corners.

‘Please, you may call me Ygraine, Emrys.’

‘You keep the other ghosts away.’ Ygraine had not been a victim of the Purge, but Merlin supposed she had been killed because of Magic. By the disrupted balance of life, which actually made sense now that he thought about it.

The Queen laughed, a beautiful sound that rang out down the corridor, before she glanced down at him.

‘Your love for my son knows no bounds, Merlin.’ He blushed, mostly because he was talking to Arthur’s Mother, partly because he hadn't acknowledged those feelings anyway. It was ridiculous, to think that anything could come of his loyalty to the now-King of Camelot.

‘My Lady, I…’ He was cut off by footsteps, quickly returned to sitting with his back to the wall, vanishing the light as quickly as it came. Ygraine remained, glowing in the darkness as a Knight came walking past, nodding down to Merlin as he went.

‘One day, he’ll know of all you’ve done for him.’

**

Being Court Sorcerer to the King was a pain. Mostly because Arthur would summon him at the most random of times, demanding his assistance with something that could easily be done by hand. The Round Table Knights found it amusing, as did Gwen and Morgana, telling him that it was because Arthur was fascinated with his Magic.

Arthur, of course, would never admit such a thing. He grew into the role of King, with a strong leadership yet a kind heart, one that had all the people of Camelot swooning.

Today was no different, heading out of the Castle and towards the woods, in search of an object that could, if legend was correct, bring back the dead. Merlin and Gaius had picked up on the rumours that came to Camelot with a visiting noble, and had advised the King that the object be destroyed.

So, the King had organised the trip, leading the Round Table Knights and Lady Morgana on the path of this object, while Guinevere stayed to organise the Council. She may not be Queen, but she held Morgana and Arthur’s respect, and was the sister of a Knight, which made her eligible to be in charge for the brief departure of the King.

From the moment they left Camelot, Merlin had a bad feeling about their quest.

Sure, it appeared the same from the outside. Gwaine’s awful jokes, Lancelot trying to maintain a calm expression despite the fact he was being driven insane. Elyan occasionally throwing his own quips, while Leon reminded them they were on a mission. Morgana’s personality rubbed against Arthur’s in a way that had the King demanding her shut up, while Percival’s silence suited him. Merlin tried to join in, shoving down the terror that settled in his bones, but it wasn’t helped by the way his Magic sparked up.

‘These are dangerous lands, keep your eyes open.’ Arthur followed his words by clicking his tongue, heels digging into the side of his mare and entering the Valley. Merlin allowed Leon and Morgana to follow, before urging his own horse in succession.

‘Druidic lands, you meant.’ Morgana muttered, eyes darting back to Merlin. He could feel it too, but it wasn’t Druids, the Magic was darker. The mist crept in quicker than he expected, the plants in the valley looking unnatural.

‘I don’t like this.’ Gwaine’s hand reached to his sword, which Merlin could understand.

‘Merlin? Any bad vibes?’ Arthur called, right around the time that Merlin spotted the first ghost. Stronger than expected, almost on the levels of the Queen, which was worrying. Drawing from the bad energy in the Valley.

‘Now you take me seriously?’ Merlin shot back, tracking the movement of the ghost. These ghosts weren’t kept away by the vibe that Ygraine’s spirit left on Arthur, nor did they seem friendly.

‘You’re my Court Sorcerer for a reason, you idiot.’ Merlin didn’t want to admit he blushed at the thought of being Arthur’s, and from the way Morgana caught his gaze, she’d picked up on it. He cleared his throat, shuddered as he tried to get his mind back on the quest.

‘Prat. And something bad happened here. Magic-wise.’ Another ghost, standing closer. Moving towards Merlin, until Arthur’s head snapped towards him.

‘Am I the only one seeing that?’ Merlin almost toppled from his horse, watching in shock as the others spotted the ghost. There was no doubt it was a spirit, Merlin had long-since gotten used to them.

‘Merlin?’ Morgana sounded wary, staring at the approaching wisps of energy.

‘I never thought… this is bad.’ Arthur, the clotpole, was drawing his sword like it could cut a ghost. The others were dismounting, so Merlin copied, studying the ghosts as they were drawn in.

When he stumbled, Merlin realised that something bad was happening.

‘I don’t want to worry you, but I think they’re stealing my Magic.’ That drew Arthur’s gasp, the Knights looking at him in terror. Magic was still a thing they didn’t understand, a skill they viewed as a last resort. The fact it was already beginning to falter…

‘Morgana!’ Lancelot caught her as she fell, Elyan grabbing her sword as it fell from her fingers.

‘We need to move, now!’ They were drawing ranks around the Witch, while Merlin saw the approaching ghosts.

More of them. Too many of them, all trying to draw Merlin’s power. He tried to follow the Knights as they withdrew to what looked to be a cave, but his knees wobbled from the strain of holding himself up, and he tripped before he could stop it. His hands stopped his face from breaking the fall, heard Arthur shout his name as the spirits tried to close around him.

All this time, Merlin had viewed his skill as a burden. The ability to see ghosts, it did nothing but draw attention. Now, with spirits trying to drain his Magic in return for walking the earth, he decided to risk it with a bigger move.

‘Ygraine!’ He shouted, muffled under the sounds of the ghosts trying to attack him and the Knights as they tried to push them back.

Just as the first spirit reached for him, the noise around fell silent, the air cooling rapidly and a light drawing Merlin’s attention.

‘Step away from my sons.’ Ygraine looked furious, radiating the blue light that hung to her form. The ghosts, just for the moment, looked startled enough for Merlin to push through them, vaguely trying to reach the woman that had protected Arthur for so long.

‘Merlin, Merlin look at me! We have to get to Arthur!’ Soft fingers closed around his wrist, tugging him in the direction of the Knights. He managed to grab the sword that had fallen, the one Elyan had grabbed, and handed it across to the Queen as she shouted at Arthur to head for the cave.

He wished he could say it was a dignified retreat, but it mostly consisted of Ygraine wielding the weapon dangerously, whilst Merlin stumbled over his own feet. The cave provided a funnelling point for the Spirits, which would slow them down, but it wouldn’t be enough to…

‘Merlin, use your Magic.’ Ygraine prompted, pointing to the roof of the Cave. He realised what she meant a moment later, stretched his hand out and commanded the rocks to move. They tumbled down, a cloud of dust covering the group while Ygraine turned to her son.

‘Mother.’ Arthur looked… hurt. Morgana was standing up on her own now, came straight to Merlin’s side to help him up.

‘Arthur, my boy, look at you… All grown up.’ She reached out, but the effort of keeping her solid was beginning to drain Merlin, and he flinched.

Ygraine’s hand dropped, eyes darting across to him.

‘Forgive me, Merlin, that was…’

‘It’s okay, I can… I can hold it for a little longer.’ The Queen smiled, then turned back to the King, who was still staring at her with his eyes wide.

‘C’mon, we should give them a moment.’ Morgana stated, the Knights turning to move further into the cave, but Merlin knew he couldn’t move too far. He settled for leaning against the cave wall, allowing them a sense of privacy whilst close enough to maintain the connection.

‘How is this…’

‘Merlin can see the dead, the ones harmed by the Purge. We met the night your Father passed, though I’ve been watching you both for a long time.’ Her fingers traced along his cheek, delicate yet affectionate in a way only a Mother could imitate, and it made Merlin long for his own Mum. Was that how Arthur felt, when he went to Ealdor and met Hunith?

‘All this time, you’ve been watching?’

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Arthur. My son, my brave Prince, and now my handsome King.’ His eyes fluttered shut, tilting into the touch while she caught the stray tear.

‘I have to go, Arthur. I can’t stay connected for long, but what you’re looking for is ahead, down this pathway.’ Merlin turned away guiltily as he listened to Arthur’s protest, to the fact he had to deal with his Mum vanishing just moments after she’d arrived. If only he hadn't been drained earlier, then the power of the Valley might have given Ygraine longer. Time to tell Arthur all she’d done for him, the fact she protected him from spirits.

Then the Queen ducked her head to speak to her son, to murmur something into his ear that had Arthur blushing, gaze darting across to Merlin. Whatever she’d said… it could be bad, but Arthur then chuckled.

When Ygraine stepped back, her attention turned to him.

‘I’ll see them off, hurry now my boys, my power can’t last long.’ Arthur was by Merlin’s side in a heartbeat, wrapping an arm around him and hoisting him up.

‘Ah, you should just go on…’

‘And replace my Court Sorcerer? That would mean I have to deal with Morgana.’ His nose wrinkled, but the smile was genuine, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back.

‘Later, we’re going to have strong words about why my Mum likes you that much.’ Arthur added, before he bent down and scooped Merlin up, despite his protests.

‘I can walk!’ Arthur laughed, but continued down into the darkness after the Knights.

‘You make a good damsel in distress.’

Chapter Text

Ygraine decided the moment she met Emrys that he was every bit the legend that she’d heard stories about as a child.

Being a ghost was a lonely thing, especially when she couldn’t tell her son that she was there for him. She had to watch as Arthur turned from a toddler to a child, learned to wield a sword just as he began to become a scholar. Then came the fear of Magic, being drilled into him until he would chase after monsters in the night that could do the unexplainable.

Ygraine had to watch as her step-daughter grew up in Arthur’s shadow, with Gwen as her maid, trying her best to deal with a Camelot that had never favoured women.

The day Merlin arrived in Camelot, Ygraine had been walking through the market. Most ghosts that challenged her quickly learned that she was by far the most powerful spirit in Camelot, that she could not be beaten in terms of strength. It was why she was slightly confused when there were more spirits about than usual, like they were being drawn in.

Then she spotted her son, picking on one of the servants like usual. Uther encouraged it, whereas Ygraine would have scolded him, had she had the chance.

Merlin entered Arthur’s life much as he’d stay in it; with a lot of chaos. Nobody had ever challenged her son in such a way, and Ygraine found herself torn between amusement, and shock. Arrogant, loudmouthed and rude, yet with a heart that she found pure.

It didn’t take her long to understand that Merlin was special. He had gifts, the unexplainable, just as Nimueh had. He spoke to the Dragon under the Castle, moved around in the shadows, yet somehow managed to stay at Arthur’s side.

When Nimueh returned, it was the first time that Ygraine learned just how far Emrys would fall to protect her son. She didn’t dare step out of the shadows until the goblet was drained, until the boy hit the floor and began to gasp, while Arthur called for help.

It was also the first time that she learned she could draw off his energy, moving into the corridor and calling to her friend.

‘Nimueh.’ The Court Sorceress halted, turning back to stare in her direction.

‘Don’t let the boy die.’ She pleaded, hoping her old friend would hear. Maybe she did, because Nimueh tilted her head in acknowledgment.

Later on, when Merlin traded his life for Arthur’s, Nimueh listened. She didn’t kill the boy, as the Warlock had hoped, but went after his Mother. That was just as emotional to watch, and rather than stay with Arthur like usual, she dared to follow the boy to the Isle of the Blessed.

The thing about Merlin, was that he didn’t do anything for recognition. He had no reason to help Morgana back into the light, but he did. He had no reason to create the Round Table for Arthur’s help, but he did. The boy continued to persevere, even saved Uther, despite the hatred that she saw in his eyes.

The night that Uther died, Ygraine decided that she could no longer let the boy suffer alone. She focused her energy, felt her feet hit the cold floor as she made herself solid.

‘Your Majesty.’ He’d known, deep down, that it was her that protected Arthur. They took a moment to study each other, Ygraine smiling down at the young Warlock.

‘Please, you may call me Ygraine, Emrys.’ The name sounded wrong, she decided, watched as he tried to speak back before a Knight came walking down the corridor. He didn’t bother talking to Merlin, why would he? The boy was just the manservant of the now-King, not an all-powerful Warlock destined to protect her son.

‘Your love for my son knows no bounds, Merlin.’ She meant what she said, watched as he ducked his head in shame.

Honestly, she could not think of a better match to her son’s arrogance than the sass of his manservant.

‘One day, he’ll know of all you’ve done for him.’

**

Ygraine did not like this situation, not one bit. The ghosts around her were solid, studied her with curiosity as she moved through them. The closer she got to the horses, the stronger the tether was, and it took her far too long to realise that she was draining more of Merlin’s energy than normal.

‘Ygraine!’ Later, she would praise her younger son for using her first name, rather than her title. He was crowded in spirits, the group struggling while her step-daughter had fallen faint.

Her entrance startled quite a few people, her golden Arthur being one of them.

‘Step away from my sons.’ She growled out, pleased when Merlin responded by shoving one of the spirits out of the way. He reached her quickly, so she reached for his arm, began to guide him away.

‘Arthur, to the cave!’ Calling to her eldest, who shook away the confusion for long enough to listen, they made their way towards the caves. A sword had been gifted to her, which she wielded with all the training she’d had as a living Queen to attack.

The Cave provided a tactical advantage, one that would be better if Merlin snapped out of his stupor.

‘Merlin, use your Magic!’ The rocks began to tremble, and Ygraine could finally face her son.

‘Mother.’ Of all the ways she’d imagined hearing it, it was never like this. Never with Arthur’s flushed face staring at her in confusion and hurt, hands trembling.

‘Arthur, my boy, look at you… All grown up.’ It was true, he looked every inch the King. She stepped towards him, wanting to touch, only for Merlin to wince.

Gods, she was still stealing his Magic.

‘Forgive me, Merlin, that was…’ Insensitive, wrong.

‘It’s okay, I can… I can hold it for a little longer.’ He was lying, his face was paling by the moment, but Ygraine couldn’t stop herself from wanting to reach for her son. Morgana and the Knights moved on, Merlin leaning a little way away.

‘How is this…’ His armour was cool under her touch, so she reached for his cheek, felt the warmth of his skin.

‘Merlin can see the dead, the ones harmed by the Purge. We met the night your Father passed, though I’ve been watching you both for a long time.’ He tilted into her touch slightly, the shock and adrenaline causing the pain to fade.

‘All this time, you’ve been watching?’ Always.

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Arthur. My son, my brave Prince, and now my handsome King.’ She caught the tear before it could fall, brushing it away.

‘I have to go, Arthur. I can’t stay connected for long, but what you’re looking for is ahead, down this pathway.’ The protests came next, and she hated the way her gut ached, the way she wanted to be selfish. She wanted to find the item, to steal back her life and finally get to see her son, to live with him, to watch him grow into his Kingship.

She had just moments left, but she needed to tell him…

Ygraine tugged him closer, lips close to his ear as she murmured,

‘Your heart chose someone pure, if a little stubborn.’ His cheeks blushed the darkest of reds, before he chuckled.

‘I’ll see them off, hurry now my boys, my power can’t last long.’

She vanished to their eyes, although if Merlin had been able to focus, he would have seen her. Instead, the Warlock’s attention was on Arthur, protesting as he was scooped up by the King and they hurried away from the fallen entrance.

Ygraine knew that her son was in safe hands, that the two of them would keep each other safe.

‘Keep him safe, Emrys.’ She whispered into the dark, knowing the Warlock would hear.

With that, she turned to the fallen rocks, to the spirits that were pushing through.

‘You’re not touching my boys.’

That was a promise.

Chapter Text

‘I do hope you know what you’re doing.’ She watched in amusement as the boy jumped, looking terrified at being caught in such a situation. His head spun to her, cheeks darkening as he tried to hide her view of the object that had almost got them all killed.

‘I…’ Most of the time, Ygraine forgot that Merlin was just a boy. Her son was now twenty-eight years of age, a man in his prime, but Merlin was younger. Twenty-four summers, according to the conversations she’d picked up on, and he clearly had dealt with a lot more than any man before him. Now, he looked like a scolded boy that had been caught by his Mother, eyes darting around in an attempt to get himself out of this situation.

‘Merlin.’ She softened her tone, used the one that she imagined she’d have used for her son had she raised him herself.

It worked. Merlin’s shoulders sagged, a look of disappointment crossing his face as he stepped aside, giving her a view of the intricately carved box.

He allowed her to reach out for it, her fingers hitting the solid object which was quite surprising. It had to be hosting a lot of power, if she could genuinely hold it.

‘Would you like to explain?’ She asked the question carefully, more than aware that she was the one trespassing in his rooms. They were sparsely decorated, for a position as high as Court Sorcerer. Plants dotted the shelves, books sprawled out with pieces of paper gathered over them.

‘I just… I’m supposed to be powerful.’ Ygraine couldn’t even imagine what it was like, to be told that you were the strongest of your kind. He had been raised to hide his gift, so it was only natural that he wanted to use it, now that he had the chance.

Nimueh had been the same. As young girls, the two of them had spent most of their time experimenting with how far her Magic could stretch. She was incredibly gifted, the High Priestesses told her so, and Ygraine had watched in awe as Nimueh began to learn how to control the power she’d been given.

‘The Gods require balance.’ It was a phrase she hated to hear coming from her mouth, especially when the boy in front needed something more. He’d lost far too much already, to talk of balance was hypocritical.

‘But I could do it.’

‘There’s always a price to pay.’ She had no doubt of the fact that Merlin could do it. But she’d seen what could happen when Magic was abused, and she knew that Merlin wouldn’t like the price he had to pay for it.

‘What if I could find a way? A way that didn’t require…’ Death.

Ygraine studied him, wondering exactly when she’d decided to take the boy under her protection. Was it the moment he drunk the poison to prove a point? Or was it during the countless times she’d watched him save her son’s life, without seeking reward?

She had a feeling she was going to regret this.

‘Nimueh spoke of a way to harness the power of life and death. A method of collecting energy from those who died, to serve her own spells.’ The High Priestess had been working on such a thing when Ygraine fell pregnant, a way to save both her and the baby. If only Uther hadn't sent her away, perhaps things might have been different.

‘Collecting?’

‘For every life given, one has to be taken. But Albion constantly loses people, and those lives are not always reaped.’ It felt like treason, discussing such things in the room that belonged to Nimueh. She had no doubt that the High Priestess could find a way back from the dead, and if she ever did, she’d be horrified in the fact that Ygraine was teaching the man who killed her.

‘How do I…’

‘I’ll teach you.’ Ygraine promised, and before she realised she was doing it, she’d reached for the boy. He looked surprised, hesitated before leaning into her touch.

**

‘Council dismissed.’ The room emptied slowly, leaving just the Round Table Knights, along with Morgana and Gwen. Merlin was itching to get out of his slightly-nicer clothing, hated the way he had to dress up just to sit at Arthur’s side. Who’d invented such stereotypical roles anyway?

Not many of the older nobles and advisors had been pleased with the fact that such a dangerous artefact, with the ability to bring back the dead, had been given to Merlin. They wouldn’t openly question him, not when it was clear that he had the ear of the King.

‘Are you okay?’ Gwen took his hand, gently rubbing the backs of it in an attempt to cheer him up.

Merlin was used to being doubted, but it still hurt after everything he’d done for this Kingdom. Especially considering what he was planning on doing, what Ygraine was teaching him.

‘Fine. Hungry.’ He joked, trying to shrug away the inquisitive stares of his friends. It included Arthur, who was watching him with an unreadable expression.

‘Merlin.’

‘Yes?’ A pause, the King glancing to everyone in the room, then back to him. This was the trusted circle, those that definitely could be trusted. With what they’d seen back in the Valley, with Ygraine coming forward and Morgana falling ill, they kept together.

‘Is she here?’

She, being the former Queen of Camelot.

All his life, Merlin had hidden his gift of being able to see the dead, because of a fear of being judged for it. Now, with those that were closest to him knowing what he could do, it was strange. He didn’t have to hide his jumps when a ghost appeared, could even studying what looked to be empty air without them raising an eyebrow.

‘Not at the moment.’ Merlin didn’t have to check, he could feel Ygraine’s presence over the other end of the Castle. She was in his Chambers, sitting by the box that contained the power to bring back the dead, still trying to convince Merlin she wasn’t worth his energy.

Arthur sagged, a flash of disappointment crossing his face, and Merlin immediately regretted his answer.

‘I can…’

‘It’s fine, we’ve got training anyway.’ Would he ever speak to him about what had happened in that cave, about everything that was remaining unsaid between them? Merlin watched as Arthur walked off, as casual as ever, and the Knights trailed after him. Each looked apologetic, like they could understand Merlin’s pain, but nobody was going to point it out to Arthur.

Maybe bringing Ygraine back to life would prove Merlin’s worth, not only to Arthur, but to the entirety of Camelot.

**

Ygraine clapped her hands together, laughing as her son disarmed his opponent in one quick movement. Arthur smiled, returned his sword to its sheath and then offered an arm to Elyan, who accepted it with a grin. They patted each other on the back, a manly gesture of comradery, before turning back to training.

He was quite the swordsman, skilled in almost all the weapons he picked up, clearly drawing on the knowledge from over twenty-years of practice. Ygraine had hoped that she’d get to teach her child, whether it be a daughter or a son, how to fight with a bow and arrow like she had learned, but Arthur’s distaste for the weapon was clear.

He thought it a girl’s choice. A crossbow was many, but a bow? Ygraine rolled her eyes in amusement as they continued to brawl in front of her, dirt flying as Arthur was tacked by one of the larger Knights.

Perhaps, if she had been Queen, he would have learned that women could be just as quick to fight. That they were skilled, and could hold their own. Morgana could use a sword, as could Gwen, and perhaps she could have taught them as well…

Ygraine wondered if she’d ever hold a sword again. Being able to in the Valley, clutching at it while dragging Merlin away from danger, it had felt exhilarating.

Arthur may not need to be taught how to fight, but she could teach him other things. Maybe he’d like to learn about the Old Religion, or of her heritage? She thought of her brothers, winced at the reminder of her older brothers. Tristan… he’d cursed Camelot, and she’d had to watch his death twice, first as the brother she’d loved, then as the Wraith he’d become.

Agravaine was still alive. Her brother, banished from the Kingdom after his meddling with Morgause, and she pondered over the thought of being able to see him again.

Then, just as Ygraine was wondering if she could convince Arthur to take up archery, she spotted Merlin. He was walking across the training grounds with an armful of Arthur’s armour, grumbling under his breath as he walked.

Merlin would have no qualms about learning archery!

No, she was letting hope affect her. She was taking the hopes of Merlin finding a way to bring her back, letting it take over her rather than seeing it for what it was, a ghost’s dream.

So, the Queen turned back to watch her son, wondering exactly how she was going to get him to stop shying away from Merlin. The two of them were both so obvious in their affection, and she hadn't missed the way the Warlock openly admired her son. Her subtle push in the cave hadn't been enough to show Arthur that the person closest to him loved him, so perhaps a more direct manner was needed?

Chapter Text

Merlin could hear his heartbeat, the elevated thumping that echoed over the sound of Arthur’s voice as he focused on the sight in front. It seemed like time had halted; nothing else mattered apart from the strands of grey in front of him, the sight of someone he definitely didn’t think he was going to see again.

Will cocked his head to the side, the slightest smirk crossing his face as Merlin wondered if the world had stopped.

‘I see your still following that idiot around.’ His head nodded in the direction of Arthur, who was still talking to Merlin like the Warlock was by his side.

This was impossible.

‘And you’re as literate as ever.’ Will joked, taking another step towards him.

The thing was, it wasn’t just impossible because Will was dead. Obviously, Merlin could get around that problem.

Arthur had stopped, turning to look over his shoulder and frowning when he saw that Merlin was standing still.

‘Merlin, what in all of Albion are you staring at?’ He demanded, glancing to the empty space where Will stood, then back to the Warlock.

Merlin took one last look at Will, before running in the opposite direction as fast as he could. He didn’t care that both him and Arthur called after him, or the fact that the people of Camelot watched as he fled, he just had to get away.

He made it to the back of the stables, slumped down into one of the hayracks before drawing his knees up to his chest, trying to control his breathing while his vision blurred slightly around the edges.

Will couldn’t be here, not even as a ghost.

The thumping got louder, his body rocking slightly as his nails dug into his thighs.

He’d sent Will’s ghost away, that wasn’t Will.

‘I saw you run in here, Merlin, where…’ Not Arthur, but his Mother, who halted when she saw him curled up in the hay.

‘My boy, what happened?’ He should have protested at the fact that the Queen of Camelot knelt down into the hay and reached for him, took both of his hands and stopped them from digging into his legs. She moved closer, guiding Merlin’s head to her chest while wrapping an arm around him, much like his Mum did for him as a child.

Eventually, Merlin regained control of his limbs. He could stop the shuddering, brushed away stray tears that had tried to escape.

‘Will’s here.’

Ygraine, although not visible at this point, had followed them to Ealdor. She knew who Will was, but he was surprised she’d bothered to remember. Her eyes went wide, before a look of sympathy crossed her face.

‘Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorr…’

‘It can’t be him. I sent him away, I pushed him through…’ He trailed off, but they both knew what he was talking about.

Merlin could see the dead, but he also had the ability to send them through to wherever people went after living. It had never been brought up before, despite the fact that Merlin had done so to Uther, and to many others who didn’t pass automatically.

‘There’s no coming back from there,’ Ygraine began, leaving Merlin to finish,

‘Without dark Magic.’ Nimueh had done so, with a Wraith in the form of Ygraine’s brother. Perhaps that was why the Queen winced, then glanced down to him.

‘What could he be?’

‘Something dangerous.’ Merlin concluded, wondering who had the power to do so.

It dawned on him the moment that it did Ygraine, the two of them looking at each other with worry.

‘Morgause.’

**

‘And this ghost, how do we know it’s not supposed to be here?’ Arthur asked, his chin resting on the back’s of his knuckles as they gathered at the Round Table. The Knights were here, as were Gwen and Morgana, ready to listen to Merlin’s warning that Morgause might be plotting against them. He did apologise to Morgana first, for good measure, knowing that it could not be easy for her to hear such a thing.

‘I sent them away.’ Merlin tried to keep his tone level, pretended that he wasn’t bothered by the fact that he had done so.

Unfortunately, some people in the room knew him better than that.

‘Who was it?’ Lancelot gently asked, while Merlin ducked his head. He wasn’t sure whether it was out of shame, or just a fear of them seeing exactly what he was thinking.

‘Will.’ Most of them recognised the name, and those who didn’t knew better than to ask. Arthur looked guilty for a moment, before he nodded.

‘We need to find out what he wants.’

‘Well that’s simple, he’s after the box that Merlin’s not destroyed.’ Ygraine stated, standing behind her son’s seat and looking at him with that tinge of pride that always warmed Merlin’s heart. It made him miss his own Mother, and he wondered if he could go back to Ealdor for a bit, once this was all over.

‘Merlin?’ Arthur questioned, following Merlin’s gaze to where Ygraine was, before looking back.

‘He might be here for something in the Castle.’ Merlin stated, ignoring the way Ygraine glared at him.

‘Keeping secrets from each other has never been a good thing.’ She scolded, while Arthur sighed.

‘I don’t suppose we could just ask him?’ Gwaine cheerfully added, distracting Merlin from the angry ghost in the room.

‘I could try.’ He offered, earning him a huff from the Queen.

‘Is he here?’ Arthur was looking around again, unintentionally skipping over his Mum as he did so.

‘I’d have to leave the Castle, most ghosts are repelled from…’ He paused, thinking better of his original answer, ‘You.’ He finished lamely, knowing everyone could infer that Ygraine was around. Arthur’s eyes widened, head darting to the side in a way that broke Merlin’s heart.

Arthur wanted her back so desperately, and Merlin couldn’t yet do it.

‘You’re not going alone.’ The King finally said, while Morgana perked up.

‘I’ll accompany him.’

**

Merlin nodded to Morgana, then took a step away from the group, ready to face whatever was stealing the face of his best friend.

He halted when a hand closed around his wrist, jerked back to find Ygraine hovering.

‘Do be careful, Merlin. I won’t be far from you, should you need me.’ Merlin was more than aware that the others were staring, Arthur focused on where Merlin’s arm was hovering. The Warlock slowly righted himself, pulling back the energy he had gotten used to expelling so she could make contact with him.

‘I’ll be fine.’ He mumbled, embarrassed about addressing a ghost when nobody else could see them, before returning to Morgana’s side.

Her smile was genuine, her hand creeping out to link with his as they looked out across the field. He pushed his magic out to her, trying to extend her abilities so that she could see what Merlin could.

It must have worked, because as they walked away, Morgana turned back to look at Ygraine.

‘She’s beautiful.’ Morgana murmured with awe, before Merlin squeezed her hand in warning.

In front of them stood a perfectly formed ghost, leaning back against a tree trunk with a smirk across his lips.

‘Knew you’d come back, Mer.’

Merlin decided he hated almost all ghosts.

Chapter Text

The thing was, from the moment Merlin spoke to Will, he knew it would be almost impossible to resist. The temptation was too great, his desire to have his childhood friend overwhelming every other need he had. It was like no time had passed, Will looked to be his usual cheery self, and Merlin’s heart ached painfully as he came to a stop in front of him.

‘I know you’re not my Will.’ He didn’t know that, because his Magic was torn at the moment. It wanted to rejoice, to bring Will closer like he had wanted to do all those years ago, rather than sending him on.

Morgana’s hand squeezed his, a silent reminder that she was by his side.

‘I’m still me, Merl. Still the same old Prince of Ealdor.’ That had him smiling before he could stop it, Will never had been fond of Arthur. In the letters they’d exchanged prior to Will’s death, Merlin had made sure that nobility wasn’t a topic that was brought up. Like Gwaine, he had an aversion to the people, and that subtle reminder was harder to bear than he’d thought.

‘Who sent you?’ He asked firmly, pretending not to hear the way his voice wavered slightly at the end. For a moment, he thought that Will would continue the façade. That Merlin would have to pretend that the ghost had magically come back to the realm of Albion, rather than being brought back to be used against him.

‘The High Priestess Morgause. But Merl, if what she tells me is true…’ He’d known it, deep down. Morgause was the only one powerful enough to challenge him, and although she’d never done so openly, he should have expected it to happen. It didn’t stop it from hurting, though.

‘Tell Morgause that if she wants to send me a message, she doesn’t need to bring a middle man.’ Merlin snapped, knowing his eyes betrayed his emotions as he tried not to let tears well up. Another squeeze from Morgana, but Merlin knew she had to be struggling too, hearing of her sister while being unable to do anything.

‘She wanted to send me as a peace offering.’ Will cut in, which knocked the air from Merlin’s lungs before he could understand what it meant.

‘Peace?’ Morgana questioned, picking up where Merlin was silently wavering.

‘She knows Emrys hasn’t destroyed the box, nor does he have any intention of doing so.’ That secret wasn’t ready to come out, Merlin felt Morgana’s gaze boring into him as she waited for an explanation.

‘Morgause isn’t getting her hands on…’

‘She says she’ll help you do it. All she wants in return is to meet you.’ Morgana was trying to tug him away, like she knew he was being tempted by the offer.

Sure enough, he snatched his hand away from his friend, taking another step towards Will.

‘She has that power?’ No, he needed to remember what Ygraine had told him. He trusted her, and he didn’t trust this apparition that wasn’t Will.

‘She’s at the Isle of the Blessed, I can take you there…’ To go alone would be dangerous. Very dangerous, and Merlin wasn’t that blind.

This wasn’t his Will, his best friend, and he couldn’t trust him.

‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ve already got one High Priestess.’ He joked, stepping back to the comfort of Morgana and letting her guide him away. He didn’t miss the proud look Morgana gave him, or the way her Magic reached out to soothe his nerves.

Or it would have done, had a hand not closed around his wrist. Merlin yelped, Morgana went skidding back, and Will stood in front of him, very much solidified. It was too accurate, all the way down to the arrow-wound that had killed him.

Merlin was expending too much energy, whatever Will was doing was making it hard to think, hard to breathe, and he vaguely heard Arthur shouting his name. Arthur, he needed to get to his King, needed to hide back behind him where he knew he was safe.

Will was suddenly yanked away from him, not by Morgana, but by the Queen of Camelot herself. She stood tall, glowering down at the figure on the floor, posture regal.

‘Touch him again and I will throw you back into whatever dimension you came crawling out of.’ The ice in her tone was terrifying, as was the fact her hand was itching where a sword would be hung. She truly was a formidable woman, Merlin thought, stepping behind Ygraine Pendragon and trusting she’d keep him safe from not-Will.

‘You can’t protect him forever.’

‘While my boys are in Camelot, nobody is getting to them.’ With that, Will vanished, and Ygraine turned to look at him.

A hand came to his cheek, catching a tear that he didn’t even realise had fallen.

‘You have to stop projecting, my boy, you’re losing energy.’ He wobbled slightly, watched as Ygraine’s frown deepened.

‘Arthur.’ She called, and the King snapped out of the daze to come to Merlin’s side. An arm wrapped around his waist, Ygraine briefly reaching to brush her fingertips along Arthur’s chainmailed-shoulder.

‘You’re stronger together.’ She whispered, before the image started to shimmer. Arthur almost walked after her, like he would try and drag her to the land of the living, before Merlin groaned in pain as he was jostled.

‘Shit, hold on.’ Merlin didn’t have much choice, because in the next moment he was scooped up.

He vaguely had the decency to thank the King, before he blacked out.

**

‘Why would he do that to himself?’ A vague, hazy voice broke through the darkness, reverberating in his mind.

‘Because he wants you to be happy. And we all know how much you’d like to properly meet your Mother.’ The voice was softer, gentle, and Merlin placed it to Guinevere. Where she went, Morgana usually followed, the two were inseparable.

‘Not if it hurts Merlin.’ Arthur’s voice was deeper, filled with an emotion that Merlin couldn’t place.

‘You should tell him how much he means to you, Arthur.’ A shuffling sound, probably Gwen comforting the King, before footsteps echoed. The door shut, and a cool cloth was pressed to his forehead.

Some time later, Merlin decided to open his eyes. It was dark outside, the curtains open and the glass reflecting the light from the fire. He was wrapped in furs, head propped up on pillows far too comfortable to be his own Chambers, and he realised only a moment later that this was Arthur’s bed.

The King was asleep, slumped over his desk with a quill in his hand, face sitting on a pile of papers. It was a sight cute enough that Merlin took a moment to savour it, allowed to watch without fear of Arthur noticing. His eyes then drifted to the box that sat upon the table, the same one he’d been hiding.

The one he was supposed to have destroyed.

If Morgause really could bring Ygraine back from the dead, if the two of them could successfully give Arthur back his Mother, was it not worth everything he had? His Destiny was already entwined with Arthur’s life, what was one more sacrifice?

He slipped from the bed carefully, his dry throat demanding attention. A jug of ale had been left, and although he wasn’t usually a fan, he drank it down quickly.

‘I thought you’d never wake.’ Arthur always had been a light sleeper when he was stressed, Merlin had learned it was best not to disturb him. So, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that him drinking was enough to wake the King.

‘Sorry, I stole your bed…’

‘I chose to put you in it.’ Arthur cut in, before he rose out of the chair. Merlin couldn’t help but recoil slightly, knowing exactly what was going to come next.

‘I thought we said no more secrets.’ It came out as a whisper, Arthur looking at the box, rather than at him.

He’d betrayed Arthur’s trust yet again.

‘I just wanted to give you what you wanted most.’ Merlin mumbled, annoyed to find tears already brimming in his eyes.

Arthur looked at him, properly looked, shaking his head firmly.

‘I want you alive, Merlin. I want you unharmed, and I’d take that any day over my Mother.’

In the silence that followed the snapped words, Merlin could barely think. All he could see was Arthur, the annoyed frown and the emotional eyes and the way his chest rose and fell with the effort of his words. The way the firelight clung to him, softened the sharp edges and took away the years, made him look so very un-King like in the way he stood. They could just be normal citizens, not a Royal and his Court Sorcerer, and it made Merlin’s heart skip.

‘What’s the point in my Magic, if I can’t use it to help you?’ Merlin took a half-step forward, which Arthur mirrored.

‘You didn’t even ask me!’

‘You were the one that told me you didn’t want to speak about her!’ Merlin’s throat protested at the shouting match, the way Arthur’s fists were clenching and Merlin was rising to it.

‘She’s dead.’

‘If you just stopped hiding your emotions from me for one minute…’ The Warlock was cut off by Arthur’s quick approach, yelping when a hand shoved him until his back hit the wooden frame of the bed. Fingers reached for his throat, like they might just squeeze the life out of him, but they paused inches away.

‘I am your King, you can’t speak to me like that.’ Arthur snarled the words, hissed them with vengeance, and Merlin gulped.

‘You’re being a clotpole.’ Merlin wished his voice would sound stronger, that he could stand up for himself against Arthur. Instead, he found his body betraying him, a small part of him pleased that Arthur was so close.

‘I don’t want you hurt.’ Arthur eventually said, fingers resting over Merlin’s collarbone in a strangely intimate pose. Combined with the fact that they were still looking into each other’s eyes…

Arthur tried to move away, clearing his throat as he did so, while Merlin attempted to move the other way.

He could have sworn that neither of them should have tripped in that moment, that Arthur’s balance was nearly-perfect so there was no way he should have fallen straight into Merlin, who in turn was naturally clumsy.

His back hit the bed, bouncing slightly and the air leaving him in a rush as Arthur’s weight pressed down onto him. Arthur managed to land on his forearm, which saved them from headbutting, but didn’t alleviate from the fact that they were pressed from head to foot.

‘You tripped me.’ Arthur accused childishly, while Merlin rolled his eyes.

‘Like I have the coordination for that.’ He shot back, before noting that the dark in Arthur’s eyes was rapidly taking over the blue.

Merlin really shouldn’t be staring so intently into the King’s gaze, nor should he have made the mistake of glancing down to those frankly very kissable lips that he’d had to ignore for the best part of eight years.

He wasn’t entirely sure who moved first, Gods he hoped it had been Arthur, but there was a mutual movement that ended with their lips pressed together. The first millisecond was awkward, before Merlin tilted his head to the side and pulled Arthur closer.

He was rewarded in the next second by Arthur’s full weight leaning on him, lips hot and demanding against his skin, teeth grazing at his lower lip until he let his mouth part. It was hot, a mess of Merlin gasping as Arthur literally stole his breath, a hand snatching his and linking their fingers together. A tongue brushed over his, soft yet enticing, and he arched his hips up unconsciously.

Arthur broke it off to snigger at him, while Merlin just pouted.

‘You seemed to enjoy that.’ He teased, the Warlock working on getting his breathing back under control.

In response, he rocked his hips, smirking when he heard Arthur’s breath catch.

‘So did you.’

A comfortable silence fell, with Merlin running his fingers through Arthur’s hair while the King watched him with an amused smile.

‘We should get some rest.’ Arthur finally said, glancing up to the pillows, then back to Merlin.

Was he allowed to stay the night?

The answer came a moment later, when Arthur stood up and kicked off his boots, his shirt being thrown to some unknown corner of the room. The covers were peeled back, Arthur climbing in, then looking to Merlin.

The Warlock had just been perched on the edge, waiting for some sort of sign. When he found it, he copied Arthur’s movements, although he kept his shirt on. Arthur huffed, wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him close until they were curled together.

‘Sleep, Merlin.’ The King’s voice was muffled, considering he was speaking to the nape of Merlin’s neck, but it didn’t stop the Warlock from hearing him.

‘Night.’ He replied, settling into the embrace.

**

Ygraine moved through the corridors, humming a tune to herself and wondering if she should go and check up on Morgana. The girl really was quite bright, the Queen thought, and would definitely make an incredible advisor to her son.

She paused, glancing down to the strip of fabric that belonged to Merlin. A neckerchief that had been on the floor of Arthur’s Chambers, providing the perfect advantage for a ghost that could only connect with Merlin. Luckily, it had enough of his Magic surrounding it for her fingers to clasp it, yanking it out from Arthur’s boot.

Chuckling, the Queen of Camelot headed towards the ramparts, deciding she’d quite like to see the sunrise.

Chapter Text

‘I don’t want you doing this alone.’ Arthur argued, glancing from Merlin to the ruins behind them. The Warlock halted, mostly because Arthur’s hand was around his wrist, but also because he could hear the emotion in his tone. They had agreed to keep things quiet about the two of them until AFTER Merlin had gone to the Isle of the Blessed, yet here Arthur was, in front of the Knights, Gwen and Morgana, looking at him like he was worth everything.

‘If you’re there, I’ll be more concerned with protecting you.’ Merlin told him, the two of them both knowing it was true. Arthur sighed, his hand retreating in a movement that took effort, before the King nodded.

‘If there’s any trouble…’

‘I’ll call for you.’ He promised, before Arthur looked to the side. Although he couldn’t see her, Arthur knew Ygraine was standing there, ready to be by Merlin’s side as they walked out to face Morgause.

‘Come back to us.’ Arthur finally said, and Merlin cheekily grinned.

‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’ He pretended not to see Arthur’s sad smile, instead nodded to the others, before turning back to the Isle of the Blessed.

‘Are you ready?’ Ygraine asked, moving to his side carefully. Merlin paused, before nodding, taking the first step towards the ruined temple.

The closer they got, the more his Magic quietened. He’d come here before, to save Gaius, to cheat death and kill Nimueh. If it was a painful place for Ygraine to be, she made no indication of it, following him until they saw the altar in the centre.

Morgause was dressed in armour, a sword at her hip, but the helmet missing. She focused on him the moment he stepped through the rocks, a brief smile flitting across her face.

As of yet, he was unsure of whether she was an enemy or an ally.

‘I didn’t think you’d come, Emrys.’

‘You sent for me. Although I didn’t appreciate the method.’ The Sorceress tilted her head to the side, studying him for a moment, before her eyes flicked to Ygraine.

‘Your loyalty to Arthur Pendragon was strange as a servant, yet it makes more sense, now that I know your title.’ He didn’t pretend like he hadn't brought the box, took it from the satchel and placed it down onto the altar between them.

Her eyes didn’t leave his.

‘My title doesn’t change my loyalty to Arthur.’ Ygraine stayed back, but he could tell she wanted to come forward. She hadn't been keen on the idea to bring the box, had warned him that Morgause might not play fair if it was on the table.

‘Your love for Arthur.’ Morgause corrected, before stepping around the altar. Merlin watched her warily, but she made no move to use her Magic, nor reached for her sword.

‘I don’t mean you any harm, Merlin. We wanted the same thing, Magic united in Albion. I understand your distrust for me… but I want to be with my sister.’ Her voice cracked at the mention of Morgana, giving away the desperation to be with her sister. Merlin could pity that, but he wasn’t going to trust her just yet.

‘Then why mention the box.’

‘I thought… if I could show you my loyalty, your word would mean more to the King than any other.’ So, she wanted Merlin to vouch for her. It was a dangerous thing to do, letting the most-skilled Sorcerer that Albion had close to Arthur.

‘By bringing back the dead?’

‘By giving Arthur back his Mother.’ She hesitated, before she stripped off her gloves, offering out her hand.

‘This isn’t dark Magic, Merlin. I’m offering a free exchange of energy, a gift to bring her back.’ He wavered, could imagine Arthur’s annoyance at the fact Merlin was even considering it.

‘I hate to say this, but she’s being truthful.’ Ygraine murmured, sounding shocked by her conclusion. Merlin snapped his head back to look at her, found the Queen staring at Morgause with tears in her eyes.

‘If I do this… you earn Arthur’s trust. And if you threaten him, even for a moment…’ Morgause chuckled, bowing her head slightly.

‘I admire your strength, Emrys.’ A silence fell, in which Merlin could feel the entirety of the Old Religion waiting for his answer.

Slowly, he reached out to take her hand.

**

‘Merlin! I was about to…’ Arthur halted, because his eyes had darted across to Morgause, who was leaning on Merlin for support. He smiled awkwardly, attempted for a nonchalant look as he guided the weak sorceress across.

‘She’s alright, just drained.’ Merlin’s words were enough for Morgana to rush forwards, catching her sister and wrapping an arm around her. Morgana’s trust led Gwen to also step closer, while Arthur waited for an explanation.

‘Drained? From the storm?’ He’d forgotten that had been a side-effect of the spell, glanced up to the dark sky.

‘Right, I can sort that.’ It sounded lame, even to his own ears, and he was rewarded with Morgause chuckling.

‘So she’s on our side?’ Arthur didn’t sound like he trusted that, and this was the moment Morgause had been waiting for. Merlin hesitated, only for the smallest of moments, before nodding.

‘She’s on our side. Nobody would use that much energy if they didn’t mean it.’

‘Energy for what?’ Morgana questioned, and Merlin looked to the King.

‘Don’t freak out.’ The Warlock then looked over his shoulder to the ruins, and a moment later, Ygraine stepped out.

She still looked slightly dazed, pale and confused, but otherwise alive. Her cheeks had a flush to them, the white gown that she was dressed in moving slightly in the wind as she began to walk towards them.

‘Merlin-’ Arthur croaked, sounding so utterly lost that Merlin couldn’t resist going to his side.

‘It’s okay, this is real. We… that’s really her.’ Ygraine took another step, tilted her head to the side slightly, before smiling.

‘Arthur, my boy.’

The King had never moved quicker, trusting Merlin’s word that this was really her. The hug was so intimate that even Merlin averted his gaze, pretended not to see the shine of tears in Arthur’s eyes or the way Ygraine was crying softly as she finally got to cradle him.

Instead, he met Morgause’s gaze, slowly nodded to her in acceptance of what she’d gifted.

When Arthur finally stepped back, the group were awfully quiet, most staring at the former Queen in shock.

‘I don’t think we brought enough horses.’ Ygraine joked, breaking the tension that had settled.

‘I’d more than happily share with you, your Highness.’ Gwaine winked, even daring to smile at the Queen with the most outrageously flirtatious look. She laughed, while Arthur looked tempted to stab his own Knight.

‘Thank you for the offer, Sir Gwaine, but I believe the couples in the group are more adept to sharing.’ Her eyes drifted to Arthur, who blushed the darkest shade of red, before her gaze turned to Merlin.

The Warlock hesitated, but Ygraine’s smile was nothing but comforting, so he moved to her side and allowed her to wrap him up in a hug.

‘Thank you. For everything.’ She whispered into his ear, while the others went to get the boat ready to leave. When she stepped back, she glanced between the two of them, before smirking.

‘I’ll meet you both at the boat.’

It left Merlin to turn to Arthur, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while attempting a casual smile.

‘So, you’re not mad?’ The King sighed, before reaching out to grip his tunic, tugging him in. Merlin squawked, mostly because they were in clear sight of the others, and Arthur’s Mum!, but the King didn’t seem to care. Lips pressed to his, cutting off any sound of protest.

Someone whistled (it sounded suspiciously like Gwaine), while a couple them cheered. Merlin could do nothing more than blush, knowing he had to look an idiot as Arthur pulled back.

‘That’s for not telling me your plan.’ He stated, while Merlin licked his lips nervously.

‘Was that supposed to be a punishment?’ Ygraine was stepping into the boat, talking away to Morgause and Morgana, while Gwen helped the Knights board.

‘No, that comes later.’ It was only as Arthur’s hand slapped his arse that Merlin understood the words, scoffing as the King laughed.

‘I hate you.’ He stated, knowing the very opposite was true.

‘Of course you do.’ Arthur teased, heading towards their friends.

Their family.