Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You bumptious, churlish, imbecileic excuse for a fairy kingdom! If you don’t answer me this instant you’re going to wish you’d never discovered a way to cross into this realm!” 

Arthur couldn’t say that was the first thing he expected when he emerged from the magical portal disguised as a lake that had existed in his kingdom for who knows how long,  but the sight of his manservant standing ankle deep in water shouting at a bunch of grassy reads and one disinterested frog did make for an entertaining picture.

“How many times do I have to tell you Merlin, the secret to a good threat is using actual words. No one is going to be intimidated by your more creative vocabulary.”

He had just enough time to register the comically wide eyed expression on Merlin’s face before the other man’s embrace about knocked him flat on his back. He steadied the two of them at the last second and Merlin pulled back as suddenly as he’d rushed forward grabbing hold of Arthur’s shoulders.

He squeezed them hard, eyes silently raking in every detail of Arthur’s face, right hand wandering urgently over the king, first to his neck then to his chest as if counting heartbeats. He then nervously parted the broken chain mail at Arthur’s side to see the pink scar that was all that remained of the sword wound. Arthur allowed it all, squeezing the trembling hand reassuringly when it finally stilled, and waited quietly as the other man looked away and then back several times as if to reassure himself this wasn’t some dream. 

Finally reality sunk in and Merlin let out the saddest laugh Arthur’s ever heard. His face said he wanted nothing more than to collapse in the king’s arms once again but was holding back for fear of rejection. A tortured moment of indecision passed before Arthur took pity on the man, closing the distance between them and pulling him into a tight embrace. Really, after everything he’d just learned, a hug was the least of what Merlin deserved.

Merlin clung to him with a surprising amount of strength but Arthur didn’t comment, focusing on holding his friend close in a display of tenderness that would be awkward if it weren’t for the fact that he suspected it was the only thing keeping the other man upright. The telltale wetness seeping into his collar lent credence to that assumption. 

It was briefly tempting but he knew the tears - if that’s what they were - were nothing to joke about. His friend did believe him dead after all. And whether it was a result of learning the truth, an aftereffect of the healing done on him or just the relief that for now the worst was over, Arthur’s own emotions were less than steady.  

After a long moment he allowed his hand, which had been resting comfortingly on Merlin’s head, to drift down to the back of his neck. Tracing a finger over the faint scar there, in exactly the place he’d been told it would be, he nodded once to himself. Grasping his servant by the shoulders, Arthur gently pulled him back. 

“Merlin,” he said softly, trying to look him in the eye. “It’s alright.”

“You’re alive...I.. I thought..” more tears spilled down the other man’s cheeks and he hastily wiped them away. 

‘I know, I’m sorry.”

Merlin made a sound somewhere between a snort and a sniff. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”    

More than I ever imagined.’ But a more pressing thought escaped him. “Why are you back here?” 

“Back here?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been here the whole time? I mean yes technically you could do whatever you wanted with those two days off - or two weeks off, or whatever it was - but spending them here is rather a waste don’t you think?”

The attempt at humor falls flat as Merlin’s bewildered expression only increases. 

“Two weeks?” He repeated, appearing genuinely lost. “Arthur, you’ve been gone less than 10 minutes.” 

“No it can’t be... I was, they...” Arthur shook his head and turned away from the lake. “Never mind, we can talk about it back in Camelot.” He made it halfway to the treeline before noticing Merlin hadn’t moved. “You coming?” 

Merlin blinked at him. “You want to go back to...that is you want me..”

Arthur rolled his eyes, deliberately arrogant. “It’s hard to respond to incomplete questions Merlin, but I think the answers are ‘Of course I want to return to Camelot’, and ‘Yes I want you to come back with me.’ Unless something has happened that I’m unaware of, it’s still my kingdom and it’s still your home. And I’d like it to stay that way, wouldn’t you?”

Merlin’s stunned expression didn’t change as he gave a shaky nod in reply, his usual voluminous word flow completely dried up. Fortunately Arthur had a general idea of what he wanted to say, enough to make him reverse direction and pull him close once again. “It’s going to be alright, idiot,” he murmured, unable to stop a fond smile from forming on his lips. 

The smile faded however as the king’s attention passed to his surroundings for the first time. Or more specifically, the other occupant of the glade they’re standing in.

“Merlin?” he asked quietly, unable to stop himself from tensing. 

“Yes?” 

“I’m not angry about it at the moment. Truly. But would you care to explain just what, exactly, a massive, very much alive dragon, is doing standing within twenty feet of us?”

Merlin stiffened and slipped from his arms. Taking a step or two back he glanced over his shoulder. Then back at Arthur. Then back toward the other.

“In your own time Merlin.” 

Scratching his head the manservant gave a sort of helpless shrug and answered, “If I’m not mistaken he appears to be gaping in disbelief Sire.”

Indeed the dragon’s jaw could not have hung any lower had it become unhinged. With eyes as large as dinner plates it surveyed the king and dragonlord, at last giving a slow blink as if coming back to itself. A deep chuckle sounded from its throat prompting Arthur to grab a handful of Merlin’s jacket and shove the other man behind him.

“He won’t hurt you” Merlin protested, a series of exasperated and indignant noises coming from him as he tried to break Arthur’s hold.

“I wasn’t worried,” Arthur answered back, a touch indignant himself. 

“Oh this is beyond what even I could have predicted.” A voice responded before Merlin did. The dragon’s tone was deep and rich and held none of the malice or evil Arthur had been raised to believe it would. Instead it seemed almost...happy. Resting a hand on his sword’s hilt - better to be safe than sorry - he took a small step forward studying the beast curiously. 

The dragon’s lips curled up in what he guessed was a smile as Arthur approached it.   

“Honestly I admit I am speechless,” it said - obviously not completely speechless. “When I told the young Warlock of the destiny entwining the two of you this was not the outcome I had foreseen.”

“Surprised are you?” Merlin spoke up, sounding more bitter than Arthur had ever heard him. “So all that stuff you were just spouting about how he was destined to die didn’t quite pan out. Whatever are you going to do?” 

“Your anger is more at yourself then it is me Young Warlock,” the dragon’s demeanor was unruffled. “I warned you many times was likely to occur if you did not follow my counsel. It is not my fault you could not follow through.”

“Tried to follow through twice. Unfortunately we mere humans balk at murdering people over something they might do.”

“You are far from being a mere human Merlin. I think even Arthur can see that now. Perhaps it is not too late for your destiny after all.”

Merlin’s expression morphed from moderately resentful to downright furious. “I’ll tell you what you can do with my destiny you overgrown garden lizard! If you think-” 

“Enough!” Arthur snapped, surprising both dragon and dragonlord into silence. “It’s obvious there is much to discuss and argue over. Not the least of which is what you,” he gave the dragon a pointed look and ignored Merlin’s cringe, “are still doing in the realm of the living. But too much has happened lately and I very much would like to inform my kingdom and my wife that I am still here. Despite whatever destiny seems to think I shouldn’t be. So if you’ll excuse us..”

Turning his back deliberately on the dragon, he grabbed his servant and gave him a shove towards the forest that would lead them home. 

Midday had come and gone and they were still a fair distance away from the city, pushing both men into adopting a hurried pace despite the fact adrenaline had long since worn off and the effects of the last few days were setting in. But the speed did have the benefit (at least in Arthur’s mind) of forcing them to save their breath for walking and only talk if it were critically important. As such the first part of their journey passed in almost total silence. 

Eventually Arthur couldn’t help but notice the way Merlin turned to glance at him every so often. He was purposely trailing behind the younger man, taking advantage of his first clear headed and pain free opportunity to study him. He couldn’t help but marvel a little at what he saw. It’s become clear what his friend is capable of, and Arthur’s been told some (not all by far) of what he’s sacrificed for the sake of Camelot and her king, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him. He may have more power than any sorcerer living or dead - and truthfully Arthur had little basis for comparison - but he still just looked like well... Merlin.   

As if on cue the man in question half turned as if to say something and promptly tripped over a tree root in his path. He blushed furiously when the king caught his elbow to keep him from falling and (knowing it was what was needed) Arthur rolled his eyes and gave him a good-natured shove when he recovered his balance. A tiny smile formed on the other man’s lips but he stayed quiet. 

They moved on and while Merlin didn’t protest Arthur’s retained grip on his arm, the glances he sent the king became more frequent and the curiosity in his expression slowly bled into anxiousness. Finally it occurred to Arthur that his friend might be afraid he was being kept in sight for a whole other reason.  

“You’re not under arrest Merlin,” he promised in as soothing a tone as he could manage.

“No?”

“No! Not now, not ever.”

“Oh.” Merlin looked at him curiously, “Why the hand then?” 

“I’m just..” Arthur stopped walking and waited for Merlin to do the same. “You keep turning around like you’re afraid I’ll disappear when you’re not looking. I thought if I kept a hand on you you’d -” he stopped, shifting unsurely from foot to foot. “I’m just letting you know I’m still here.”

Merlin swallowed, blinking quickly. “Thank you.” It was barely a whisper but Arthur understood the depth those words carried.

Ruffling the other’s hair indulgently he laughed when Merlin fell in with the change of mood and tried to push him off. “Come on, we have a ways to go still.”

By the time the castle came into view Arthur’s steps were dragging and Merlin had to brace him with an arm around his shoulders as they descended the last hill to the path leading to town. 

Catching his muttered words of surprise over the exhaustion Merlin informed him, “Your body has been through a trauma Arthur. Magical healing aside, it will need to recover. You need to be prepared to be tired for awhile still.”

With that fact in mind, Arthur directed him along the outskirts of town to enter the citadel via a side gate closest to the royal chambers. It felt criminal sneaking into his own castle, the people of Camelot needed to see their king alive and well, but Arthur didn’t have near enough energy to give them the triumphant return they deserve to see. A proper public appearance would just have to wait until after he’d seen Guinevere, checked on the status of the kingdom, and taken a nap. In whatever order those things chose to present themselves in. 

They’d made it to the hallway just outside his room, Arthur now leaning more than half his weight on his servant’s ever present shoulders, when said servant abruptly jerked them to the side narrowly avoiding a collision with someone rushing along from the opposite direction.

“Whoa, watch where you’re- Gaius!” Merlin’s eager grin quickly faded as he took in the look on his mentor’s face.

Arthur noticed it too and drew himself up, reducing his hold on Merlin to a hand on his arm. “What is it Gaius?”

“My lord, forgive me.” The physician gave a shallow bow and stepped forward to examine him. “It’s good to see you on your feet. Are you well, when did you return?”
Arthur waved him off. “Never mind me, what is it? Is the queen well?”

“She’s fine Sire, I was just coming to inform her majesty of Sir Gwaine’s condition.”

“Sir Gwaine? Was he injured in the battle?” 

“What happened to him?” 

“Ah no.” Gaius answered the king’s question first. “His injuries were incurred after we returned to Camelot. It’s my understanding that he and Sir Percival attempted an attack on Morgana and she caught them. Percival suffered nothing worse than a blow to the head, he should recover in a day or two. Gwaine…”

"What Gaius?” Arthur asked urgently.

The old man sighed, his face haggard and sad. “He was tortured Sire. The work of the Nathier serpent if I’m not mistaken.” 

The name meant nothing to Arthur but Merlin’s recognition of it was clear from the way the other man sucked in a pained breath, growing paler by the minute.

“Can anything be done for him?” the king asked.

“I’m doing my best, but I’m afraid the chances of survival for those who fall prey to as much of the serpent’s venom as he did are not reassuring.”

Arthur turned to Merlin without hesitation. “Is there anything you can do to improve those chances?” he asked, surprised at the lack of hesitation the idea caused. Whether it was due to the urgency of the situation, or whether this was how it should have been all along, he couldn’t say. Either way he was grateful when Merlin met his look with one of determination.

“There might be,” he said slowly, testing. 

“Then go,” Arthur released his grip and nodded him forward. “Both of you, I mean it.” He looked at Merlin intently. “Whatever it takes.”

Merlin stared at him a moment longer then flashed a grim smile and took off at a jog, a puzzled but unquestioning Gaius following after him.

The sun had long since set by the time Arthur made his way to Gaius chambers to check on his knight and his sorcerer. No that wasn’t right. He hardly deserved to call Merlin his - be it sorcerer, friend, or anything else. 

Said friend looked up immediately as the door opened, his relief to see his king so obvious that Arthur had to resist the urge to apologize for not being there sooner. It was pointless to explain all the things he’d had to do - Merlin knew them already and it’s clear they were meaningless to him. He was just grateful Arthur was there now. 

“How is he?” the king asked softly not wanting to pull Gwaine from what appeared - at least to his untrained eye - to be a restful sleep.

Merlin rubbed his forehead. “I’ve done all I can. Chances are...well.. I really don’t know. It was dark magic that caused his wounds, and I’m not the best healer when it comes to even regular injuries.”

The king clapped his shoulder. “Give yourself more credit. I’m sure what you’ve done is enough.”

“I just..” Merlin trailed off picking at the end of his shirt sleeve.

“What is it?”

“Is this my fate?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fight back tears. “Will I defeat all my enemies only to be too late to save my friends?” 

Arthur moved to crouch on the floor beside his friend, grasping him firmly by the shoulders.

“Listen to me,” he urged. “You’re not too late. You weren’t too late for me, and you’re not too late for Gwaine. He’s one of the strongest, most stubborn men I’ve ever known. You’ve given him a chance, a chance no one else could. He’ll recover, you have to believe that.” 

Merlin nodded but didn’t meet his gaze. 

“That’s not all that’s worrying you though, is it?” his servant gave him a wary look and Arthur’s heart sank. “Are you really so afraid of me?”

“NO! I’m not. Of course I’m not..That is, I’m not afraid of you hurting me, or, or banishing me or anything like that.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m just....” Merlin hesitated, looking everywhere but at Arthur. “Out there...I didn’t think about this part. I just wanted you to live. Now I’m not sure about... about what’s going to happen now that...now that you know. I mean, you deserve to know! I’ve wanted you to know for so long. But now that you know… I’m not sure if you know what to do, or if you do know what to do, how you feel about what you’re going to do. How you feel about me.”

“How I feel about you - Merlin!” Arthur growled barely containing the urge to shake the man. “I told you I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. I owe you - Camelot owes you - a great debt.” Leaning closer he took Merlin’s chin in his hand, forcing his servant to look at him. “Merlin, think for a moment. You know me better than anyone ever has. Do you really think I could thank someone I hadn’t forgiven?”

Merlin’s eyes shone with grateful tears as he studied Arthur’s face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. For a moment he looked truly happy. Then a shuttered look crossed his face and he dropped his gaze, leaning back from Arthur’s touch. 

“I believe you meant what you said Arthur. But I also know it’s far easier to forgive someone when you’re convinced you’re never going to see them again.” In the stunned silence that followed that statement, Merlin stood and wandered over to the small window overlooking the courtyard, staring out it without really seeing. 

Acting more on instinct then with an actual plan in mind, Arthur followed him. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, he rested his forehead against the other man’s hair. Merlin stiffened at the contact, but Arthur gave him a brief squeeze and he gradually relaxed in his king’s hold. 

“I know you’re scared. I understand. Somewhere inside that thick skull of yours you’ve gotten the idea I should hate you. For any actions I’ve taken to substantiate that, I am truly sorry. It isn’t true.” He paused and gave his friend a considering look. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know if I’d be capable of hating you even if I wanted to.” 

A ghost of a smile crossed the younger man’s face which Arthur counted as a win. 

“You’re not the only one who’s had time to think. I promise you, if there was a way to turn back time there would be many things I would change. But since there obviously isn’t, we’re just going to have to find a way to go forward now. Things will be better, you have my word. For you and your people.”

“You’re sure about that?” Merlin asked, tension returning to his body even as his voice remained steady. “If you knew what I’ve done-”

“I know more than you think,” Arthur interrupted softly. Merlin gave him a questioning look, but he shook his head. “Now is not the time. No, I mean it, you’re exhausted. Check on Gwaine one more time and then get some rest. I’ll send someone to sit with him.”

“I’m fi-” 

“Do not finish that sentence!” Arthur ordered, holding him just a bit tighter. “I haven’t been completely oblivious this whole time. I know you haven’t slept since before the battle started and you’ve been expending god knows how much amounts of energy these last two days. Magic or no magic, you’re a human being. You need rest.”

Merlin’s retort died on his lips at the sound of an awkward clearing of a throat behind them. “Is this a private cuddle or can anyone join in?”

“Gwaine?” Merlin pulled away from Arthur and rushed over to the bedside, aiding the knight as he struggled to prop himself up on an elbow. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“Like I lost a battle with a bar keep and his entire stock of ale. What about you, last I remember…,” he sucked in a pained breath. “Morgana! She found you didn’t she? I sent her right to you.”

“Sent her?”

The scruffy haired knight let out a sigh full of self loathing. “Eria... Eria was playing us...playing me. She was in league with that witch the whole time. The queen and I, we caught her sending a message telling Morgana where you were headed and managed to trick her into going the opposite way instead. I convinced Percival to follow her there. I thought we could take her by surprise, kill her before she realized it was a trick. But she was too strong. She knocked Percy out and set a snake on me. I don’t remember much but I must have told her where you were truly headed. My Lord, I have failed in my duty as a knight and as your friend. I’ll accept any judgement you mete out.”

“Gwaine-” Merlin’s protest was cut off at Arthur’s snort.

“Gluttons for punishment, both of you,” the king muttered. “Look, Gwaine, I won’t say you weren’t a fool for going after her - you know that full well on your own - but I thank you for the effort. Morgana would have discovered us eventually. You bought us time and I’m sorry you were put in that situation in the first place. You couldn’t stop her but we could. It turns out I possessed the only means of killing her.” 

“She’s dead?” the knight asked, shock and hope fighting for dominance in his expression. At the king’s nod he collapsed back on the cot with a hearty laugh. “Well, ahem, I’m glad to hear it.” He frowned at the solemn countenances opposite him. “Are we not happy about this?”

Merlin rubbed a hand down his face. “I think it’s still sinking in.”

“Ah.” Unable to cope with the awkward silence Gwaine cast about for another topic, finally settling on the first words he heard upon awakening. 

“Merlin?” Tired blue eyes meet his. “Was I dreaming or did Arthur say something about you having magic?”

The eyes widened in surprise and worry. Looking away Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly and tossed the briefest of glances over his shoulder at Arthur. The king shrugged slightly but said nothing.

“Um… you weren’t dreaming.” Merlin finally admitted.

Gwaine looked at him appraisingly. “Seriously?” The dark haired man gave a shaky nod. “Since when?”

“The day I was born.”

“Huh. So... you’ve been looking out for us this whole time?”

Another nod.

“Camlann? The old man? That was you knocking half the Saxon army on their collective rears with just a flash?”

A third nod, this time with a distinctly uncomfortable edge to it.    

Gwaine stared for a moment then let out a long whistle. “Well I must say, I’m impressed.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before. It’s just that-” 

“Mate easy, easy, it’s alright.” Gwaine hushed him calmly. “I’m not angry, just a bit surprised. Although I suppose I really shouldn’t be. I knew there was something special about you all along I just couldn’t figure out what.” He chuckled at Merlin’s puzzled look. “Face it mate, you’ve long been synonymous with weird stuff happening. You’re drawn to it like a fly to firelight. That cave for example?”

“Cave?” Arthur asked.

“Long story,” Merlin quickly answered.

Gwaine gave Arthur a long look then, trying to read his reaction. The king appeared to be... well embarrassed mostly, but there was a slight scowl on his face that immediately raised all of the knight’s protective instincts. “You’re okay with this right Princess? Because if you try to punish this man for saving our lives-”

“Gwaine hush.” Now Merlin was attempting to be the calming one. An attempt promptly ignored.

“Law or no law I don’t take kindly to anyone hurting my friends.” 

“I’m fine.” Merlin insisted. Both his companions rolled their eyes.

“ Fine doesn’t leave you near tears like you were just now.”

“I-I, it’s a long story okay? But it’s fine! You’re alive, Arthur’s alive - now - and you need to rest.” 

“What do you mean ‘now’?” Gwaine’s voice hardened and he struggled to sit up. “What happened?” 

“Not-not now. Please.” 

The heavy note of grief in Merlin’s voice brought Arthur’s hand to rest on his shoulder and Gwaine immediately relented with a murmured apology, settling back down. The conversation was wearing on him and now that some of the emotional stress had been relieved, the aches and pains in his body were making themselves keenly known.

Sensing this Merlin handed over one of the pain draughts he’d prepared earlier and the knight swallowed it without complaint. A few minutes of comfortable silence passed and as their friend’s breathing evened out Arthur took a quiet leave, repeating his command for Merlin to get some rest of his own. 

None of them would sleep as well as they had before all this happened, the king knew that. He also knew, much to his relief, that whatever sleep they did manage would be all the more restful for knowing they would awaken to healing bodies and intact friendships. 

Given the way the day had started, that was a lot to be thankful for. 

Chapter Text

A soft knock broke the lazy mid-morning atmosphere of the king’s chambers. The royals looked up from where they still seated at the breakfast table, having been woken, dressed, and fed by a revolving door of servants, and wondered if this would finally be the one they wanted to see. 

“Enter,” Arthur called. 

The door opened and Merlin slipped through. He still looked pale and emotionally drained but not quite as physically exhausted as he’d been the night before. That was all the observation Arthur got in before Merlin was engulfed by the queen’s anxious embrace. 

A hurried conversation flowed between the two. Merlin’s words weren’t audible but Arthur guessed the servant/warlock was trying to apologize because he could hear his wife’s tearful whispers of “It doesn’t matter,” “I’m the one who should be sorry,” “You brought him back to me, that’s all I can ask for,” and something that sounded like “This is your home, if you leave I’ll kill you myself,” but he couldn’t be sure.

Eventually the two parted, both wiping their eyes.

“Come sit. I’ll get you something to eat.”

“No, don’t worry. Gaius made me breakfast already.”

Gwen arched an eyebrow. “I’ve had Gaius version of breakfast. You need more.”

“I’m not sure I can eat right now.” The words were quiet but the underlying tension was all too clear. 

She squeezed his hand gently. “Just try.” While she busied herself gathering some of their leftovers onto a plate Arthur asked after Gwaine. 

“He’s back to being his ornery self. Gaius wants him off his feet for another day or two but he’s insisting he’s fine. I had to wait till Percival got back before I dared leave.” He rocked from foot to foot for a moment. “He uh...he wanted me to pass on a message.”

“This should be good,” Gwen laughed, returning to the table. “What is it?”

Merlin swallowed, his expression warring between worry and mirth. “He says and I quote , ‘Arthur better treat you okay or he’s going to be in for a major fight the second I’m back on my feet’.”

He gave an embarrassed shrug but Arthur just snorted in amusement and gestured him into the chair at his right where Gwen had placed the plate she made for him. The queen then fetched an over-sized pitcher of watered down wine and poured some for each of them. 

Merlin raised a questioning eyebrow at the beverage choice. “It’s not even noon,” he commented.

“You’ll need it,” was all Arthur said in reply. The warlock cringed, but accepted a goblet anyway.

“Do you wish to be alone?” Gwen asked softly once they were settled. 

Arthur had given her a very brief summary of what happened before he’d, quite literally, collapsed with exhaustion the night before. It had basically consisted of, “Merlin has magic, he saved my life, no I don’t hate him, going to bed now.” He’d been snoring before she’d had the chance to say that she knew the first revelation and had guessed the second. 

She’d informed him of those facts that morning and while they’d conversed little on the subject it was a relief to know he shared her good opinion. It was clear however that much more needed to be said. And as much as she wanted to hear it all now, if talking to both of them was more than Merlin could handle she would content herself with waiting for Arthur to repeat the conversation later.

Arthur looked from her to Merlin, clearly leaving the decision up to him. “You can stay,” the dark haired man answered. “I’d rather not have to explain this twice.”

That didn’t sound promising but she nodded encouragingly and sat opposite him. I’ll try not to interrupt, she thought, unless things start to get heated . Which, unfortunately, could very well happen. Sending up a silent prayer for self-control on all their parts she shifted in her chair and took her husband’s hand. 

Silence reigned while Merlin took a long drink of his wine and fidgeted with his sleeve a bit, ignoring the food. 

“Where do you want me to start, my lord?” He finally asked, his voice carrying no trace of the affectionate mockery it usually did when he used one of Arthur’s titles. Instead he sounded too submissive - almost resigned. The attitude surprised Gwen and made Arthur slightly ill.

“What happened at Avalon from your perspective?” the king answered after a moment, careful to keep his tone relaxed. “I know I must have passed out, but what came after that?”

“I dragged you to the edge of the lake and you vanished immediately after your feet touched the water. And then you were back. To me it was within minutes. But I get the impression for you it was...longer.” It’s not quite a question but Arthur nods anyway. 

“Much longer, felt like days. I woke up to these tiny blue creatures buzzing about above my head - the Sidhe I think Gaius called them?” Merlin nodded confirmation. “I’m not sure where they took me, another realm of sorts maybe. There was nothing too distinguishable about it, just somewhere where a lot of them had gathered. I could barely stand from my injury but I managed to say that I was told they could heal me. At first they refused, saying that things had happened the way they were destined to.”

“What changed?”

“I told them I people on my side who would be mightily displeased to hear that.” He chuckled darkly. “Let’s just say your name got their attention.”

Gwen threw a startled glance in his direction at this declaration then turned to stare at the inconspicuous looking manservant across from her. If Merlin noticed her surprise he ignored it, concentrating his gaze on his king’s face.  

Arthur’s cheerful look disappeared as he continued. “They acknowledged they knew of you, but also said they knew I wasn’t a man to hoard power for power’s sake. So why I would possibly want to live with someone who’d done nothing but lie and betray me?”

He paused as Merlin’s face twisted in a bitter wince. 

“Are you sure you want to know all this? It gets worse before it gets better.” 

“No, no, I want to know, I need to know,” Merlin took a few deep breaths, blowing them out quickly as if to gather his courage, then nodded to Arthur. “Please go on.” 

Gwen reached across the table and took Merlin’s hand in her free one, at the same time giving  her husband a quick smile of support. 

“I told them it didn’t matter if you’d lied,” Arthur continued, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “That you’d protected me and helped me in countless ways and that I owed you,” he broke off clearing his throat, “I owed you more than I knew. They said yes that I owe you everything, including fear and sorrow and judgement for being the cause of some of the worst pain I’d experienced in my life. They said if I knew some of the things you’d done I would beg to return to this life just long enough to burn you to ashes. Then to prove it they...showed me.”

The hand Gwen held turned to ice as the blood drained from Merlin’s face. His eyes closed in resignation and dread as he waited for his king’s wrath to descend upon him. What he got instead is a light rap on the head, startling them open again.

“What I saw made me angry Merlin. Angry, and sad, and irritated. But not at you.” Arthur smiled slightly at the confused look on the other man’s face. “They showed me your involvement with the dragon, your solution to the sleeping spell, a fresh perspective of what happened the night my father died...  

“But each time,” he hurried on seeing Merlin’s face pale almost to translucence. “Each time I could see your reactions Merlin, how desperately you didn’t want things to be that way. There are questions I need answered but your loyalty, your...your goodness, that shone out clear as day. I wholeheartedly believe you did the best you could under the circumstances. I’d even go so far as to swear there was a moment where you almost drank that poison yourself instead of giving it to Morgana. No evil man does that.”

Guinevere startled yet again. Poison? Merlin? But how…? Any fear or anger she might have summoned though was dashed by the sight of the tears that sprang to her friend’s eyes.

“She was my friend,” Merlin choked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t- I’d have given anything not to... Even given all that she did I never hated her.” 

“I know,” Arthur assured him, voice equally soft. “I saw how you held her afterwards, and the bargain you struck with Morgause to save her. At first I couldn’t understand why the Sidhe added that part but then they accused you of twisting destiny and making decisions for me. Said you were trying to undermine my rule, conveniently ignoring the fact that I wasn’t actually ruling at the time. All their words were calculated to turn me against you.” He paused, and Gwen spoke up. 

“Merlin what could possibly have happened to make them hate you so much?”

“Short version: I stopped them from killing Arthur twice and putting one of their own on Camelot’s throne.” 

King and Queen exchanged an uneasy look.

“So anyway they showed you bunches of things that by all rights should make you hate me but you still let me come home with you. You’ve even been trying to be nice.” Merlin’s expression, which had cleared slightly, regained it’s anxiousness. “Why? What made you forgive me? If you really have, that is. I understand if you don’t - I can’t forgive myself for some of it.”

“I already told you I do,” Arthur interrupted, trying to curb his frustration. It wouldn’t do anything but add to the rising panic in his friend’s voice. “And you should.”

“How can you say that?

“I just told you idiot, they let me see too much! If they’d been more subtle about it, it might have worked out better, but in so obviously engineering the choice of events to try to make me see the worst of you they didn’t realize they were also letting me see the best.” He leaned forward, his gaze pinning his friend in place. “No one else Merlin, would ever go so far, sacrifice so much just to keep me safe. Gaius told me that I would one day understand the truth of just how much you were fighting for me and now I do. You believed in me so much that you let me break your heart and dash your hopes a thousand times and you still stayed by my side. 

“There’s so much I saw and I know there is so much more I have yet to see and I wasn’t going to let anything - even the so called destiny they said my death fulfilled - stop me from finding out the truth.”

“Destiny,” Merlin spat the word out like a curse. “I nearly failed our destiny. Every time I thought we were close to it coming about something would always happen. The more time went on, the more wrong choices I made...” He shook his head in bitter amusement. “Looking back it’s all so stupid. If I’d just-”

“None of that!” Arthur knew how tempting this road was. What it was to obsess over past mistakes. To agonize over them, staying awake night after night going over every other option, anything else he should have seen or done until he was drowning in guilt. He and Merlin were far more alike than he’d ever realized and he wasn’t about to let the person he’s come to admire and, if he’s honest, love like family, suffer that same despair. 

Reaching over he nudged Merlin’s chin up until they were looking each other in the eye. 

“Merlin,” he said, slowly and deliberately, “you are not the master of fate and you can not be responsible for other people’s choices. No listen to me,” he held up a hand to stop the retort on Merlin’s lips. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this alright? 

“We have both done things that deep down we knew were wrong. Whether we did them because we trusted the wrong people, or we thought we’d already come too far and were too afraid of what might happen if we backed down then, it doesn’t matter. You’ve been tied down to a way of life that you’d be insane if you didn’t hate sometimes. You stuck to it because you believed that it would ultimately mean a better future for everyone and I think you could be right. But there were things along the way that you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me, and other times when you did tell me but I ignored you because I thought I knew best. 

“Somewhere along the line we ended up working against each other. Or at least I wasn’t being of any help to you. I think our problem isn’t that we’ve been doing the wrong things, it’s that we haven’t been doing them together. That has to change if we’re going to get the Albion we both want.”

Merlin stayed quiet for so long Arthur began to wonder if the shock of what he said had addled his friend’s mind. When he finally spoke - startling the king from his own anxious thoughts - it was with the voice of one not quite daring to hope. “You really want to change… all this? Even...even magic?” He gave an awkward wave of his hand not quite able to convey exactly what he meant but for once Arthur understood.

“Ultimately.” The king answered, leaning forward and resting a hand on his shoulder. “But it will take time. The people of Camelot have lived without the active involvement of magic for an entire generation, setting that right won’t be easy. And then there’s the two of us.”

Merlin flinched a little. “What do you mean?”

Arthur gave him a wry smile. “I have a feeling we’re going to be arguing a lot more than usual. At least at first. You’ll finally be able to tell me things I need to know, and that will make me feel like a total and complete fool because I should have noticed them sooner. I’ll yell at you, probably end up doing what you say, and then yell at you again because it shouldn’t have been that easy.” 

Merlin gave a weak laugh, “No real change then?” 

Arthur gave him a slightly less than gentle shove adding, “But Merlin, if this is going to work you have to be honest with me. I know you’re used to doing things alone - or virtually alone - but no longer. If I’m to even have a chance at being this legendary king that you’ve gotten it into your head I’m supposed to be, I have to know the truth. Always. Even if I don’t like it. Can you promise me that?”

A sharp ache hit Arthur’s chest when Merlin shakes his head. ‘So he doesn’t really trust me after all,’ he can’t help but think. But a moment later their eyes met and the king could see it’s more than just that. He could see the war going on in his friend’s mind. How Merlin’s vulnerable side was longing to give in to the trust and comfort Arthur offered, but at the same time the fierce protectiveness he’d always carried screamed that he had to remain separate. Stay the powerful one. The one who kept everyone safe, no matter the cost to him personally. 

At this yet another example of his friend’s loyalty, the ache in Arthur’s heart slowly faded away into a kind of protective affection and he had to clamp down the sudden urge to pull the younger man into his arms in an attempt to tell him everything would be okay. 

That settles it. Those infernal creatures really did toy with my emotions somehow. Why else would I be this clingy? And with Merlin of all people? 

Attempting to preserve what little dignity he had left, he gave the shoulder his hand was on a sympathetic squeeze and spoke in an official if still maddeningly soft tone. “You’ve carried destiny long enough old friend. Let us ease your burden as you’ve eased ours all these years.”

It’s difficult to say what prompted it, be it his words or the look in his and the queen’s eyes, but Merlin’s resistance crumpled and he buried his face in his left hand, Guinevere refusing to relinquish her hold on his right. The hand doesn’t quite muffle the sound of his tearful breaths and Arthur threw a slightly panicked look at his wife. Her face was streaked with her own tears but she gave him a reassuring nod along with a look that he recognized as an order to sit quietly and wait. This he did for several long minutes before Merlin finally gave a loud sniff and looked up again, eyes wet but hopeful. 

“I can’t promise I will always tell you everything,” he said, his voice cautious but steady. “I’ve had to hide the truth my entire life, it’s become a habit. It might take a long time for that to change. But for anything that concerns the safety of Camelot I will try my hardest to come to you before I do anything. You have my word.” 

And it was obvious to everyone in the room those words were the most honest words he’d ever spoken.

Chapter Text

Some moments pass in silence after their promises are exchanged. It’s an easy silence at first, but soon an underlying uneasiness that speaks of a secret not yet revealed creeps in. That in itself is unsurprising. But this particular secret was weighing on Arthur’s heart rather than Merlin’s. And it was one that he would need every ounce of the courage who’s name he bore in order to admit.

Unable to spare breath from his rapidly tightening airway he managed to wordlessly catch his queen’s eye. Any fear that she’d be offended by a request for privacy is assuaged when she immediately stands and gives them both a genuine, albeit slightly worried, smile.  

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve tarried long enough. I’ll return once I’ve seen to some things. Merlin if you’ll stay and make sure Arthur doesn’t do anything exerting until I get back.” Cutting her husband protest off with a kiss, she then walked around to where Merlin had rapidly stood to attend her. Taking his hand she gave it a firm squeeze. “If that plate is not empty when I return there will be consequences,” she informed him. Then, with one last smile, she was gone.

“Arthur what else happened back there?” Merlin asked a short while later, surrendering the battle of which of them would speak first.

“What do you mean?” 

The dark haired man swallowed hard, avoiding looking his king in the eye. “I’m not being paranoid here, I just know you. I know how you process information and I know how you react. You were so angry and.. and hurt when I told you I had magic you barely spoke to me for two days. You may have forgiven me by the end of them, but all this? All my mistakes - never mind the reasons behind them - I don’t care if you had days or weeks to accept them, you’d get angry when you saw me again. But... you haven’t. You barely even blinked when Kilgharrah tried to argue with us. He irritated you a little yes, but he’d do that to anyone. You should have at least turned around and yelled at me afterwards, I wouldn’t have blamed you. Why haven’t you?”

“Because I’m such a generous and forgiving king Merlin. You ought to know that by now.” The attempt at friendly banter falls flat. 

“Arthur you’ve hugged me!” Merlin bit out in exasperation. “Willingly! You’ve never done that! That’s not - we don’t hug! Ten years without a single one only to have two - two and a half actually - all in one day. Why? What’s all this coming to?”

Arthur looked down at his hands. “Have I been so cruel to you that an uncommon act of affection can’t be taken as anything but a precursor to retribution?” he asked softly. Please don’t answer that.  

Merlin doesn’t. 

“It’s hard to explain.” Is all the king can think to say when the silence has stretched too long. “I’m trying- Hang on! I’ve hugged you once before this.”

Merlin snorted. “I think I’d remember that.”

“I did!” Where the indignation was coming from Arthur didn’t know but he’d take it over the guilt. “After that ambush that separated us. The one with the rockfall. You were injured and it was two days before Gwaine and I found you in the bog. Ask him, he’ll back me up.” 

He sat back with a smug look and Merlin’s stomach sank. 

“So apparently I lied. I don’t remember that. I remember passing out in the forest, then Morgana’s hut, and then the next thing I knew I was waking up in Gaius chambers to the smell of something worse than your socks.”

“What about Morgana?” Arthur’s eyes were bright with alarm. 

Merlin slumped further into his seat. “I’d rather not-”

“Please.”

You would say that wouldn’t you. Heart heavy Merlin recounted events as best he could. From being taken hostage, healed, having the enchantment forced upon his mind, and the efforts Gaius and Gwen went to to help him defeat it. 

“Why did none of you tell me?!” Arthur exclaimed when he’d finished. “I could have helped, I could have done something!”
“Your life was in danger.”

“So was yours! Did you think I’d blame you? Say it was your fault she overpowered you, or look at you with suspicion?”

Merlin sighed. “I had to use magic to break the curse. If you had been involved…you wouldn’t have let me go after her, you’d have gone yourself. She would have killed you. Or if I had been there...”

“I might have found out about your magic.”

“How would it have looked to you then? I have magic and I’m trying to kill you? How would Morgana have twisted the situation? How would Agravaine?” 

The thought makes Arthur want to be sick. “The scar on the back of your neck. Did it come from that creature?”

Merlin reached back and touched his hairline gingerly. With so many scares acquired over the years one stopped meaning more than another. He hadn’t thought about this one in ages 

Arthur took his silence for an answer. “So that’s what she was talking about,” he added to himself. “She said your magic always acted to protect me no matter the risk.”

“What? I thought you said they were condemning me, why would they say something like that?”

“What are you talking about?”  

“You said-”

“Ah no. She not Sidhe.”

Merlin frowned. “I’m confused.”

“Imagine that,” Arthur quipped then wondered if that was a bad idea. Glancing up, he was just in time to see Merlin scowl although a suggestion of a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. Letting his breath out in a huff the king tried again. “There was someone else present. Someone who I’d never met, but who I know thinks very highly of you. And you of her."

“How much longer do you intend on keeping me here? I’ve already told you I refuse to pass judgement until I’ve heard his side of the story. Every new...vision you show me is only going to reinforce that decision. I won’t push him away. You’re wasting your time.”

“Time?” The creature tilted it’s angular face and flashed a pointy toothed grin at him. “You’re in the realm of the immortals Arthur Pendragon. Time does not concern us. Your years pass as  mere minutes to our eyes. Do not test us with time. For we are capable of holding you in our grasp until your very name is lost to the outside world.”

“Careful.” A crisp clear voice spoke out from behind Arthur. “There are those who would punish you for even speaking such a thing.”

He turned sharply and watched a young woman glide into the room. Well she appeared young. There was a certain agelessness about her face and the soft brown curls that framed it. She carried herself strong and erect, dark eyes peering out from a pale frame. Eyes that oozed with an authority that surpassed even that which Arthur had seen in the faces of other royals. Whoever this person was, she far outclassed him. 

Her steps brought her in between Arthur and the Sidhe elder. “You know of whom I speak. Your kind have felt his wrath before, do wish to challenge him again?”

The creature's haughty air faded slightly. “He brought his king to our shore. He is in need of our aid.”

“He brought his king to you for the express purpose of you using your power to heal him. I assure you that action was not a request.”

She turned all too knowing eyes on Arthur. “You’ve seen the power my...compatriot can wield. What would you think of any being who would deny him that which he demands of them.”

The king swallowed hard. He knew Merlin. Despite all the so called evidence the Sidhe may present the man had the kindest heart of anyone in existence. Still it was with not entirely faked trepidation that he answered, “I can think of nothing more foolish.”

She smiled and Arthur loosed a faint sigh of relief when she turned away again. 

“What do you think he will do when informed that you are keeping his best friend and greatest ally prisoner inside your realm? Do you really think the Gates of Avalon can stand against the living embodiment of magic itself? And he would in no way be alone. You fancy yourselves immortal but your power is linked to this place. You have no idea the amount of destruction mortals would cause were they to gain access to it. You have more enemies than you realize. From those who believe magic to be an evil annihilated at all cost, to grieving mothers and fathers who awakened one morning to find their children were no longer their children thanks to you. They would lay waste to your home and while you might ultimately survive, there would be so little left of you that you would be forced to retreat from this land forever. And in doing so quite likely come face to face with a dragon. Or two.” 

For a moment the Sidhe were speechless, then the leader sneered. “You don’t have the power to hold the gate open for so long, My Lady.”

Her smile was a cold, flat thing and Arthur nearly shivered. “Are you sure?” She asked. “Did I not have the power to remove the immortal blade from your possession to return it to the world it belonged to? Did I not have the power to bring Arthur inside Avalon when you were perfectly content to let him die on the lake shore? Did I not once hold the very heart of Emrys himself? Even now I feel his grief calling to me. He would blend his power with mine in a second if I asked it of him. You don’t have to worry about opening a door that is no longer there.”

The Sidhe’s blue skin flushed an angry red. “Why do you wish to help this mortal? After he-”

“What he did is not your concern!” 

Arthur did flinch this time. Fortunately most of the others were too busy with their own cowering to notice. 

The woman paused for a moment, then lifted her chin. “As you clearly have failed to learn, Merlin, Arthur, and I have one thing in common. There is nothing we will not do for the one that means the most to us. And we will prove that again and again for the rest of our days. You have failed Sobeslaw. You will do as I command or face the same fate as you would condemn the king to.” 

The next few minutes are something of a blur involving light and chanting and intense pain. By the time Arthur’s vision cleared the Sidhe had vanished and he’s alone with the woman. 

“Freya,” she supplied. 

He blinked. “I beg your pardon.”

“We’ve never gotten the chance to meet properly. My name is Freya. At least, that’s what Merlin still calls me. I’m the gatekeeper between your world and this one, the guardian of the Lake of Avalon and all who lie within her.” 

He nodded as if he understood although he really wanted nothing more than to leave this realm and run far away. He might trust Merlin but the constant exposure to magic was beginning to make his skin crawl. 

As is reading his mind - could she do that?- the woman smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, you’ll be home soon. Everything will be alright.”

“For how long? If you hadn’t intervened the Sidhe would have stopped at nothing to see me dead. Why?”

“Quite honestly I believe they’re afraid.”

That was not what he expected her to say. “They’re afraid? Of me?”

“Of you and Merlin. Of what you will do.” She peered at him and the king resisted the urge to back away slowly. “Has he not told you you’ll be the greatest king your land has ever known?”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. He’d heard that more times than he deserved. “I take it he wasn’t just trying to make me feel better.”

She shook her head. “You can do so much. You already dream of uniting the kingdoms, not for your own ambition but for the sake of peace. You just need to broaden that dream a little.”

“Unite those who have magic with those who do not.” 

Freya raised an eyebrow at his perception. “And Merlin thinks you’re slow. The Shide know what the two of you together are capable of. You are a threat to their power in Albion so they would do anything to keep you apart. You will never succeed if that happens.”

That made him wince. “The two of us. What’s Merlin part in all this?”

“Whatever you want it to be.” Taking in his worried look she added, “He’s not like what they would have you believe Arthur. Don’t let their accusations make you doubt his devotion. For every mistake he’s made there are a dozen things he’s done right. For every victory there have been a dozen sacrifices. You’re not going to lose him. He didn’t turn on you when I died. Or when you dismissed the death of his father as nothing, or persecuted the man he’s come to love as a father. Or any of the many countless times you’ve called magic evil - called him evil - to his face. If that’s not proof of his loyalty then nothing is.”

“When you died?” Arthur frowned. “Forgive me, but I don’t remember ever having seen you.”

She smiled, for the first time looking like a simple human girl rather than...whatever she was now. “I didn’t expect you too. It was many of your years ago, and I looked nothing like this when I was given the blow that would end my life. I was cursed, my other form...it killed people. I couldn’t help it but that didn’t make it any less my fault. Merlin was the first person to ever see the girl behind the monster.” She gave him an assessing glance. “He’s good at that you know, seeing the best in people.”

“I know.” 

“For three days he took care of me, kept me safe and allowed me to feel like something more than just a monster.” Her smile turned distant and soft and Arthur’s stomach did an uncomfortable flip.

“He loved you.” It’s not a guess.

“And I him,” she acknowledged. “As much as either of us understood love back then. If things had been different then perhaps that love could have been built into something permanent. But my curse was too much for even one as strong as him to break. I was a danger to his home, and someone very brave and very ignorant put an end to that danger and me along with it.”

It took Arthur less than a minute to read between the lines. And it’s as if his heart had been pierced all over again. Blinking back the sting in his eyes he somehow found the courage to meet her gaze. Surprisingly there’s no anger in her soft brown eyes, no judgement or coldness. Only forgiveness and concern - for him. If this is even a fraction of what she was in life then it’s no wonder a young and innocent Merlin had lost his heart to her. They both deserved better than what he’d given them.

“An apology won’t even begin to cover it I know, but-”

“Arthur,” she interrupted, “don’t. I never blamed you and Merlin forgave you many years ago.”

The king ran agitated hands through his hair. “I never...how could...that he can even stand to look at me... much less protect...”  

“He will always protect you Arthur. Even if he doesn’t know he’s doing it. If you ever doubt this just ask about the scar on the back of his neck.”

“What scar? Who hurt him?”

Freya’s eyes light up at the protectiveness in his voice. “That is not my story to tell my lord. Just know that his magic might not have been strong enough for me, but it will always act on your behalf. Even if he’s not in conscious control over it at the time.” 

Arthur nodded somewhat helplessly and she looked away for a moment as he fought to get his emotions under control.

“We’re out of time here. But you must remember this: You and Merlin can only have the dream you both want if you’re willing to trust and respect each other. I give you this warning as only someone who knows his heart can. When Merlin loves, he does so with everything he has.” Her gaze pinned the king in place. “He would do anything for you Arthur, including go back to pretending to be nothing more than your fool. He would deny himself until it destroyed him and it would destroy him. I beg you, don’t let that happen. The Shide won’t be the only ones to try and stop you. You need him free - ALL of him. Remember that please.”

Arthur doesn’t repeat those last words of her’s but they are heavy on his mind as he watches Merlin absorb his story in silence. The kind of silence Arthur has never liked being connected to his servant. He can’t bring himself to break it however despite the worry gnawing relentlessly at his gut. If this was anything of what Merlin felt from the time they left the lake until that morning, Arthur’s sorry he made the other man wait so long for them to talk. Now if only he would talk.

“Tell me you’re not bringing magic back out of guilt for killing her.”

On the other hand...

“No more than you put up with everything I put you through out of guilt that you couldn’t save my father. Or Morgana. Or any of them.”

Merlin doesn’t reply and quashing the tiny feeling of victory coursing through him Arthur continued. “I’m doing this because it’s right, because you’re my friend, and if you’ve suffered so much at my hand and still remained the best man I have ever known then I can only imagine how many more have done the same. And despite how cursedly selfish it sounds, the fact remains that I need you! For their sake and my own. As much as I don’t deserve you, I couldn’t…” he swallowed hard, “I couldn’t bear it you were forced to leave because I let my pride overwhelm my common sense. Again.”

Merlin let the silence drag out once more, torn between elation and worry. Arthur’s sincere in what he’s saying - he couldn’t have been the king’s confidant and sounding board for so many years and not be able to tell that. But he’d also witnessed too many changing of minds and compliments becoming insults to not be inclined to brace himself for an abrupt course correction whenever something vaguely sentimental is said.

“I gave up the thought of leaving years ago.” He finally admitted, when it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. “I don’t want to leave. I won’t say things you’ve said and done didn’t hurt, that they don’t still hurt from time to time. But I know the man you are.” He smiled softly. “You have a good heart. And if Freya’s not passing judgement who am I to?” 

“She hoped you wouldn’t be angry at her for telling me what she did.”

“I could never be angry at her. Or you. Truly. I can’t hate you either Arthur. There may have been times when I wished I could but…” He shook his head, “I was once told a half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole.” 

“Told by the dragon?” Arthur guessed.

“One of the few times he was genuinely reassuring.”

“You look to a cranky old dragon for reassurance?” 

“Yeah well you were angry with me at the time.” 

Arthur put that thought aside. “What do you think of Freya’s warning? Should we be concerned about a Sidhe attack?”

Merlin frowned in thought. “Not now,” he answered slowly. “They’re vindictive creatures and they won’t let this go, especially since in their eyes they’ve granted us a favor. But they’re plotters more than anything, they don’t like to do the dirty work themselves and at the moment we’re still somewhat beneath their notice. They know what we could do, but half of them are probably certain they succeeded in poisoning you against me. They’ll be expecting to see me end up...well, dead.”

“Then that’s their mistake,” Arthur said firmly.

Merlin smiled and finally reached for his plate, devouring the still fresh food in earnest. 

The king watched him indulgently for a while then stated. “I do have one question.”

“Only one?” Merlin laughed, mouth half full. He sobered at the annoyed look he got. “Sorry. What is it?”

“Before the battle started, I had a...a dream? It wasn’t much I just felt someone watching me and I heard your voice. You were warning me of an ambush. A secret path that Morgana’s men were going to use to attack our camp.”

Not only was Merlin not surprised by this revelation, Arthur heard him let out a massive exhale. “So you did hear me,” he breathed, voice dripping with relief. “I couldn’t be sure. I’d never tried to communicate with anyone like that, any one who didn’t have magic that is. You were so far away I had no way of knowing if you’d get my message.”

“I got it.”

Merlin looked at him curiously, unable to read his expression. “You want to know how I did it?”

“No that part is rather obvious,” Arthur said dryly. “It was something else you said. That you didn’t want to leave me but you had no choice. I know what I said before you left, I know how wrong I was, but I think I deserve to know why you did.”

Merlin swallowed hard.  “Morgana stole my magic.”

Arthur blinked. “Stole?” Was such a thing possible?

Merlin nodded, his expression dark and troubled. “The old religion was not the chaos your father taught you it was. There were forces the high priestess could use to limit its misuse. To punish those who abused their magic. Morgana found one. A creature that feeds off magic that can be commanded to strip people of their power. She, somehow, smuggled it inside my room and it attacked me. Gaius woke up to my screams and he killed it. We thought everything would be okay. Then the next morning...” His voice cracked and Arthur reached out. Before he could touch him though Merlin gathered himself. “Ordinarily the judgement of the creature is final, but my magic isn’t exactly ordinary. That cave Gwaine mentioned? It’s...special...to magic users anyway.” He didn’t elaborate, though if that was for his own sake or Arthur’s the king didn’t know. Either way he would be content with that description for now. 

“Despite how it may have looked, there have been very few times over the years when I’ve been afraid of something I faced. This was one of them. I was helpless, truly helpless. If Gwaine hadn’t been with me I doubt I would even have survived the trip to the cave. Not to mention the fact that Morgana showed up. Thankfully she found trapping me and leaving me to rot more amusing than just killing me outright.”

Arthur - who’s heart had stopped three times in as many sentences - decided it was time to speed up his friend’s story. “The cave restored your magic and you used it to connect with me across dozens of leagues and save my life. Again.”

Merlin’s expression said he was miffed at being robbed of what was no doubt a grand conclusion to his tale but he nodded sourly and fell silent.

“Is everything you’ve done so...big?”

“Mmmm, depends on what you mean by ‘big’. Not every problem was so complex but most of them still involved saving your life. Or Kilgharrah saving mine. But if you tell him I said that every pair of trousers you own will become two sizes too small.”

“Threats to a king’s wardrobe are treason.”

“Who says I was threatening your wardrobe?”

For one brief second he was fooled. Then Arthur saw the twinkle in the other man’s eye and barked out an almost genuine laugh.

Merlin grinned back. “That said, do you want to know everything now? I’ll tell you, it’s just there’s a lot. You saw the worst. The rest...not all of it’s great, not all of it’s really noteworthy. So many times I won through blind luck or-”

“It’s alright,” Arthur interrupted yet again. “We’ll have years for all those stories. Save them for nights by the fire, or if someone’s bored on patrol. Tell them to children or those who question your bravery. I know all I need to know for now.”

“Dare I ask what that is?”

Arthur gave him a look that said he’s an idiot but the king’s fond of him anyway. “That a brother in arms saved my life and it’s my duty to do all I can to help him in return.”  

Merlin stared at him before dropping his gaze with an embarrassed chuckle. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Merlin .” Arthur warned.

“It’s just…I told you off for giving me a hug and now…”

Arthur blinked, processing the sheepish implication. Heaving a put upon sigh he got to his feet. “I guess I can manage one more.”

Merlin’s slight hesitancy in moving closer only added to the natural awkwardness of the gesture but Arthur forced that aside and squeezed his friend tight.

It would be a long hard fight but they’d make it work. That Arthur promised with all his heart.

Chapter Text

Different. 

The word repeated in Gwen’s mind over and over as she wandered the quiet halls of the castle. 

It was a word that had taken on multiple meanings as she’d grown up, some good, some bad. One of her earliest memories was of asking her mother why their skin color didn’t match. 

Or why her’s didn’t match Elyan’s, or Leon’s. Her mother had smiled and said people came in different colors. It was normal and nothing to be afraid of. She’d accepted that difference. 

Then there was different in the way Morgana had been different after her return from living with Morgause. At first Gwen had accepted that too, thinking some differences were only natural for one who’d been in captivity as long as Morgana had been. Still it had seemed only a matter of time before things would return to normal. Then came the moment she’d watched from behind a screen as her mistress sat a box aflame without a word. It had been an unquestionable act not only of magic but of ill intent. And Gwen had been very, very afraid.

Memories of Morgana inevitably turned her thoughts toward Merlin. She grimaced a little at the contrast between the man she’d meet all those years ago and the man sitting at her table that morning. He was very different now, but she doubted it was magic that made him so. Gaius had said his magic had been with him his entire life. A part of his daily activity for as long as she had known him. A conversation they’d once had echoed through her mind and she fought back the urge to giggle.

"Arthur’s one of those rough, tough, save the world kind of men. You...don’t look like that.”

He cast a furtive glance around the room then leaned in close. “I’m in disguise.”

Her schoolgirl’s crush occupied mind had thought he was trying to impress her, but he’d simply been telling the truth! All these years- 

The happy feeling suddenly evaporated. 

How much pain had all the years of hiding caused him? She doubted they’d ever truly know. Merlin protected, at all cost. She’d heard enough stories from other servants to know that. She’s experienced it herself. How many times had he put his life on the line to save her? To save the people she loved? Any successes he’d had probably only made the failures hurt that much worse. Arthur was right, they couldn’t let him do it alone anymore. They needed a way to make him comfortable bringing down his walls.

And she knew just where to start.

“I brought you some tea.”

Pale blue eyes rose to meet hers as she set a tray with two steaming cups down on the table beside Gaius. The old physician nodded once then returned to scribbling notes in his book. 

“What’s the latest update on the wounded?” 

“Not a very positive one I‘m afraid.” Gaius finished writing and took off his glasses, running a hand down his tired face. “No more fatalities as of yet but Sir Grinith and Sir Markus are still in critical condition. And three more guards have had their fevers spike dangerously high. If Elias’ infection doesn’t clear soon I may have to amputate his arm.” 

Gwen barely withheld a gasp of dismay at the thought. The poor boy was barely 18, with a widowed mother. Much the same as Merlin had been when they’d met. Speaking of…

“Isn’t there another way? I mean given what Merlin did for Gwaine surely-” she stopped herself. Most of the men in the infirmary were asleep but she wanted a straightforward answer they needed to have this conversation somewhere more private. “Come with me.”

Gathering up the tray she led the way across the hall into a half empty storeroom. Placing it down on a crate she wrung her hands nervously. 

“I’m not a fool Gaius. There is no excuse for letting these men die or be crippled if it is within our power to do something about it.” 

Gaius sighed. “If only it were that simple my lady.”

“Well fortunately for all of us it is.” 

“The king-”

“Arthur has condoned - no, requested - the use of magic to restore his own life. Months ago he used it to restore my mind. My eyes were opened that day, and I’ve felt more and more the hypocrite ever since. I am queen. If magic can save me then how can I allow its benefits to be denied to my people? How can I deny that their deaths are on my head if I don’t allow it to be used?”

Her old mentor looked away, blinking quickly. Worried, she moved to his side. “Gaius? Are you all right?”

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, my queen, I’m merely surprised. It’s been a long time since such sentiments have been expressed.”

Her heart contracted painfully as the distressing years plainly showed on her aged friend’s face. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you and Merlin have suffered.”

Gaius expression abruptly cleared. “Our choices were our own,” he said kindly. “You do not bear the guilt for any of them.”

“How you could go it alone for so long and still have hope...”

“Much of my hope rested on Merlin’s faith. Both in Arthur and in yourself. Even if I were to see nothing else, I am satisfied there is now proof his trust was not misplaced.” 

Something about the phrasing brought a frown to her face. “You make it sound like you're leaving us.”

He chuckled. “Don’t count out this old man just yet. Still I’ve lived long enough to count each blessing as it comes. Seeing your child has the support of his friends in endeavoring to build the future he’s already worked so hard for, that is a blessing indeed.”

Her frown turned into a bittersweet smile. “It won’t be easy. It’s...since I began to court Arthur I’m not sure a day has gone by that I have not feared for his safety, in some form or another. I often feared for Merlin too. It wasn’t so bad when I knew they were together, no matter what they faced, they always found a way back. Was that all Merlin’s doing?”

Gaius heard the underlying question: ‘Will my husband die if Merlin doesn’t remain at his side at all times.’ He smiled gently. “No magic made Arthur the best swordsman in the Kingdom. Or gave him his gift for strategy. There have been many times when those skills were what brought Merlin home alive. They are strongest together because of mutual respect, and support, and dare I say it, love. But while Merlin may complain otherwise, Arthur is capable of looking after himself.”

“I don’t know, you haven’t seen him looking for his comb.”     

Gaius chuckled along with her and reached to pour himself another cup of tea. She waited until he’d taken a few sips before asking. “You say they’re stronger together than apart. There’s nothing more likely to divide them than the issue of magic. Arthur seems to be accepting it for now but should he face resistance...how do I stop someone driving a wedge between them?”

It was a few moments before the physician answered. “The only people who can separate Merlin and Arthur are Merlin and Arthur. Opposition will come or it won’t, they’ll argue and fume and refuse to speak to each other over difficult issues or they won’t. What we must do is find a way to offer support without taking sides. And warn the others to do the same. The problems they face may be on a scale larger than most friendships will ever have to deal with but the basic principle is the same. Given enough time they’ll learn when to push and when to give. As long as they both want what’s best for everyone - and you and I both know they do - then wisdom and patience will guide them forward.” His eyes took on a mischievous twinkle that reminded her strongly of his ward. “And may the gods protect anyone who tries to stand in their way.”

It was with a firmer step and a lighter heart that she resumed wandering the halls. Still her thoughts couldn’t help but dwell on her husband.

She’d been unsurprised by Arthur’s silent request for her to leave the two of them earlier. They’d been married long enough for her to know there was something else about the ordeal that Merlin needed to hear. Something Arthur didn’t feel right saying around anyone else. His eyes had been a kaleidoscope of emotions -  worry, sadness, and something that, if she had to put a finger on it, could only be described as shame.  

Gwen wasn’t sure what to make of that. Although she was quite proud of her husband for the way he’s tempered his reaction to this admittedly startling revelation of just what his manservant has been capable of all these years, she couldn’t help worrying, despite Gaius reassurances, over how bad a strain their newfound honesty would put on the fraternal relationship they shared. Arthur was a (mostly justifiably) proud man and his ego was likely to take a severe bruising as he continued to discover which of his victories he could claim were truly his and which others were all Merlin’s doing. Although the fact that it had been Merlin who had shot her a worried look when she’d gotten up to leave, really should reassure him about who was really in command of the current situation.

The thought brought a smile to her face. How could anyone believe him evil when the thought of being alone with his best friend resulted in that sweet, slightly panicked look he got whenever he wasn’t sure what was going on, but didn’t think he liked it? If anything Arthur should be the one worried about being left alone with someone who possessed the amount of power Merlin did. Not that Merlin wouldn’t die before he’d deliberately harmed his king.

She paused with a sigh.

No matter what, a revelation like this meant it might be days before everyone’s usual routine was re-established. If Arthur was going to be able to face it then he should be resting, which meant he almost certainly wasn’t. After a moment’s deliberation she decided to head back to their rooms and check. If he wasn’t there she’d find him and drag him back herself.

We don’t murder people we love, we don’t murder people we love. No but we will be giving him a sizable smack upside the head if he doesn’t turn up soon!  

Mentally adding ‘sending Merlin back and forth across the entire castle to track someone down by himself’ to her list of things her husband was no longer allowed to do, she finally stopped for breath beside the door that lead to the eastern battlements. If Arthur wasn’t out here she might just have to convince Merlin to use magic to find the wayward king.

Perhaps fortunately, out there he was. Attired in only a loose tunic and trousers, his blond hair whipping about freely in the cold breeze as he leaned on the wall looking over the forest below them. 

“Disappear like that again and you’re going to find a tracking spell placed on every item of clothing you own.”

His smile upon seeing her quickly morphed into a frown. “He wouldn’t.”

“I’d be greatly surprised if he hasn’t already. And if not, he would if I asked him to.”

“And if I told him not to?”

“He was my friend first.”

His grin returned and she drank in the sight, tears threatening to surface. It had been too close. Too close to her never seeing him smile again. Pushing that thought away she moved to his side and looped her arm through his. 

“Speaking of, where did Merlin run off to?” He asked.

“Infirmary I hope.” At his curious look she added, “I may have unofficially told Gaius to tell him to see to it that all our men recover.”

He raised an eyebrow but she refused to look away. After a moment he huffed, “Well no turning back now.” Fortunately there was humor rather than heat behind the words. “Just so long as he’s discreet.”

“I don’t believe that will be an issue. Why do you wonder where he is anyway?”

“Just curious. When he left our chambers he said something about keeping busy, to stop himself from thinking too much.” Arthur gave a self-deprecating laugh. “A week ago I would be insulting him for something like that.”

“And now?” She asked hesitantly when he made no effort to continue.

He gave a lengthy exhale through his nose. “Now I have too much to think about myself. A lot I’m still not sure of.”

“You’re not changing your mind?” The worry bleeding into her tone was undeniable.

“No, no.” He gave the hand on his arm a reassuring squeeze. “No matter how much I think about it, I’m sure I’m moving in the right direction. I won’t be a hypocrite Guinevere, not anymore. Magic saved my life. Has been saving my life for years if you believe Merlin, which I do. Despite everything I find I still trust him. Do you agree?”

“I agree completely.” She told him, fighting back a relieved smile.  

“What I don’t trust,” the king continued, “is how I’m going to bring about such a drastic change in laws and people’s thoughts. I have to end a war that I didn’t start, one that’s lasted 30 years. How can I get people to accept something an entire generation has grown up fearing? And how can I ask those with magic to forgive an opponent who deliberately targeted innocents?”

Remembering Gaius advice, Gwen asked reasonably. “How have you come to accept it? Why do you want to fix things for those with magic?”

“Because it’s clear to me now magic’s not the problem, it’s what’s done with it. ‘No evil in sorcery, only in the hearts of men.’ My god, it was spelled out to me word for word. Why couldn’t I see it? I’ve...this isn’t the first time I’ve thought this.” He turned worried eyes to her. “Why did I hesitate? Why couldn’t I have done something about it before now?”

Thinking back over the years it wasn’t too hard to offer him an answer. “Because you never had the opportunity to make an honest choice. Any other time you thought about accepting magic there was an outside force involved. You were either desperate to save someone or were basically told to ‘allow it or else.’ You didn’t have time to think it through and make a decision properly. And now you have proof of the good magic can do. Your words from before were always ‘ maybe magic isn’t all bad’, ‘ perhaps my father was wrong’. You never took the time to find out for sure because something always happened that turned you away from the possibility. You didn’t let that happen this time. The Sidhe couldn’t turn you against Merlin, the people’s opinion won’t either.”

“How do I bring an end to the fear?”

The queen chewed her lip. She knew a way, but if Gaius was right that way wouldn’t exactly align with how her husband preferred to resolve things (that is, quickly). “Start by understanding. That’s half the cause for all fears isn’t it? Not really and truly understanding what you’re getting into? You won’t be able to convince everyone right away but you won’t have to. Not everyone will forgive but eventually enough will. Time and other people’s actions will see to it. Both sides will come to see that all you want is peace. Start with a few people and let the results spread from there. Set an example in little things and big things will follow.”

Arthur nodded, appreciating the insight. Changing things slowly would be difficult but he could see the logic in her words. 

“I could start spreading the word among the knights,” he mused. “Just a few at first. The ones he’s closest to, and that witnessed the battle of Camlann. They saw how Merlin turned the tide for us and it’s only logical. Who knows how long we have before a new enemy comes our way. It’d be good if they knew exactly what resources we have on our side.” 

“You said Gwaine already knows?”

Arthur’s eyes took on a wicked gleam. “He does, and he’s convinced the healing Merlin did on him is going to turn him into some sort of superhuman. That he’ll be stronger, faster, be able to summon apples out of thin air - something. Merlin finally had to threaten to make sure he never eats an apple again to get him to stop pestering him about it.”

Gwen couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. In her opinion Merlin was an infinitely patient creature (he’d have to be to put with Arthur all these years) but it didn’t surprise her that Gwaine was able to push even him past the point of tolerance on occasion. For that matter all the knights could get a little heavy handed in their pestering of him. 

It bothered her sometimes to see and hear of him being so put upon when Arthur and a group of them went on a hunt or quest. He never complained, but why one person had to feed and care for six fully grown and capable men as well as horses and supplies irritated her. If being aware of exactly what he could do to them if he chose fostered a little more respect and equal treatment on their part, so much the better. She’d have to remember to make the suggestion to him as soon as possible. 

“You going to share the joke?” She startled at the voice at her ear. A glance up showed Arthur staring at her with open confusion and a little bit of worry. Realizing she was smirking in a way that was uncomfortably similar to one’s Morgana was fond of giving, she shook her head and gave him a more genuine smile. 

“I think your knights are going to have to get used to doing a bit more for themselves,” she said,  an element of teasing to her voice. “That is if they don’t want the.. how did you put it last night?... ‘Most powerful sorcerer ever to walk the earth’ playing tricks on them because they’re piling too much unnecessary work on him.”

A longer laugh escaped her as her husband’s face flickered through all the different meanings that statement could have. All the - good-natured - trouble Merlin could bring upon them if he decided enough was enough…

“You know, I did promise him two days off as an apology. I think I better go ask when he wants them.” Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek he hurried back inside. She followed a minute later still laughing quietly. 

Yes things were going to be different now. But in this case, Gwen thought different would suit her just fine.

Chapter Text

Seven days passed in the blink of an eye.

Seven days of tallying up the lives lost. Of sending patrols to recover the unclaimed bodies and visiting with the survivors. 

Seven days of placating the council while keeping their demands for the full story of his recovery at arm’s length.

Seven days of trying to convince a disheartened kingdom that the death of a woman who’d once meant so much to him was a cause for celebration. That they’d won and that those that died would not have wanted those left behind to mourn for them.

Seven days and Arthur could no longer stand the fallacy of it all.    

They hadn’t won. Not on the basis of Camelot’s might alone. If it wasn’t for Merlin, Morgana would be on the throne. She might have been on the throne for years now. 

That was one of the tougher realizations he’d made in the past week, one he hadn’t completely managed to swallow yet. He was king because Merlin wanted him to be. Pure and simple. Yes he had the love and loyalty of the people and the knights, so he didn’t feel inadequate per se. But it didn’t make it any less humbling to know the person you’d spent a decade believing was beneath you actually outclassed you in every way but what was decreed by a bit of gold and a fancy piece of paper.  

He’d confided that concern to Guinevere who’d listen attentively to every word the first time he’d ranted his way through his feelings. And the second time, and the third time. When they’d gotten on the subject once more she, in her sweet, gentle, motherly way, had told him to grow up. 

Well to be exact, she’d said she’d seen how long it had taken him to recover from Uther’s neglectful way of raising him and accept that he truly was good enough to rule. She wasn’t about to stand by and watch him sink to that level again. Merlin did exceed him in some ways but having been his friend for years she knew the man had no aspirations to overshadow his king or for running a kingdom, and that would never change. 

“And as for your thought that you’re only king because of him, many could argue you’re only king because you were born the son of one. And that your father was only king because his army was stronger than that of the previous one. If what you do with your power makes a better world for the people around you, is it really reasonable to make an issue of how you obtained it?”

Her comments had succeeded in not only shutting him up about his own situation but also in reminding him of the plight dozens if not hundreds of his people had suffered with for decades. People who’d obtained their power without trying, or because they’d genuinely wanted to help others. People could make the world so much better if only they were given the chance. A chance the past thirty years had stopped them from having. 

He had to change that. But not before one last, private, goodbye had been said.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“Someone has to keep things going here.”

“Guinevere.” Arthur drawled.

She looked down, then back up, sadness and pride mingling in equal measure within her eyes.

“I made my peace over her a long time ago, now it’s your turn. Do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“While you’re out there, don’t think about me, or the council, or the future. This is about your last moments with the last of your family. I know how much that hurts, but promise me you won’t shut the pain out. Allow yourself to feel everything you need to feel. You’ll never be able to move on if you don’t.”    

He blinked quickly, the emotions she referenced already bubbling fiercely beneath the surface. “I’ll try. Promise me you’ll be careful while I’m gone. The Saxons have yet to withdraw completely, and who knows how many followers Morgana still has around and-”

“Arthur!” Several pairs of eyes flickered their direction and she lowered her voice. “I’ve read the same reports you have.”

“Maybe I should-”

“The risk would be the same whether you remained here or not. Stop making excuses and go. Camelot will still be here when you return.”

His jaw tightened but he couldn’t dispute her words. He was trying to use duty as a way to hide from an unpleasant truth. Blowing out a deep breath he nodded and she leaned forward for a kiss. 

“You be careful too,” she said as he mounted up. 

Gathering his horse’s reins in one hand he took hers in his free one. “I will. Try not to worry. I’m in the safest company I can be after all.”

Her eyes bypassed the small number of knights he gestured to, coming to rest on the dark haired man in a ratty brown jacket who was the last to climb up on his horse. A fair amount of twisting and shifting later he finally looked up and gave her a small wave. A smile blossomed across her face.

“I know you are.” 

The council had not sanctioned or even been informed of the task their group was performing and even if he was the king no one was eager for Arthur to have to field any more questions than necessary over his disappearance. Therefore they all fell into step with the pace he set for the journey, even if it meant riding from sunup to late afternoon with only the briefest of stops. That’s not to say it was easy, and as the shadows lengthened all but Arthur were grateful for the pause by a shallow stream. The horses weren’t the only ones in need of refreshment. 

“How much farther do we have?” Gwaine asked, rubbing exhaustion from his eyes.  

Leon took a long pull from his waterskin and shook his head. “I don’t know, Arthur didn’t have a very good memory of where they were ambushed. He said as we got closer Merlin would be able to lead us there.”  

“Is he going to remember any better?” Percival asked quietly.

Awkward shrugs were all that the others could give for an answer.

A short distance away Merlin was pondering a question of his own. One that had been on his mind ever since Arthur had told him what he wanted to do. He’d debated bringing it up for almost as long.

“What is it Merlin?”

Startled to find the object of his thoughts had materialized at his side it took the warlock a few minutes to find his words. 

“I was thinking. Do you want, that is…we have no idea what condition she’ll be in.”

Drawing in a deep breath Arthur forced himself to use a patient tone. “Actually we do. I’ve seen enough dead bodies to know the rate of decay, and so have you.”

“You don’t have to see her like that,” Merlin informed him. “I could go ahead and…”

Arthur shook his head. “We’re in this together.”

“But-”

“No. We are going to bury my sister Merlin. Mine. You never should have had to be responsible for her death, I won’t have you adding any other burdens to yourself in regards to her.  We find what we find, end of story. Now stop distracting me and let’s get going.”  

“The horses need more time.”

“Can’t you-”

“No.”

A brief staring match followed which Arthur allowed himself to lose. It wasn’t disobedience prompting the other man to dig in his heels, the king knew that. You couldn’t disobey someone who wasn’t even sure what they wanted. 

Merlin didn’t quite know how to take his victory and therefore decided the dirt on his boots was a fascinating object of study. Several seconds of awkward silence later he turned away only to startle yet again when Arthur grabbed his arm. 

“Set up camp.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Just. Do it. We’ll leave at first light.”

Dawn was still yawning when the five tired men crept into the shallow patch of wood where the royal siblings had met for the last time. It was instantly apparent, even to Arthur’s sleep deprived and Merlin’s guilt ridden minds, that something was very wrong about the place. 

Neither was lying about their knowledge of a body’s decay and with a week of exposure to the elements the one lying in front of them should be quite advanced. Should be. 

“I don’t understand.” The words barely registered as the king knelt beside his sister. 

“Sire?”

“She’s just as we left her.” It was true. Pallor, stiffness, odor (or lack thereof), none of it had changed. Whipping his head around he set a glare at the only one who’d been with him that day. “Did you do this?” 

A pair of lost and loss filled eyes met his. “From the moment she hit the ground I wasn’t thinking about anything but you,” the warlock stated firmly. He took a hesitant step forward pausing when the glare intensified. “Please.” 

Anger fading as quickly as it had flared Arthur waved him forward. Merlin swallowed harshly knelt opposite him, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off the dead woman’s pale forehead. 

“May I?”

The king gave a nondescript gesture, closing his eyes to regain a moment of control while Merlin muttered words no one understood but him. He was quiet for a time then gave a sigh. 

“Well?” One of the knights asked. From the impatient tone Arthur guessed it was Gwaine but didn’t bother looking to confirm. 

“Preservation spell. Twisted but not complex. Whoever did this was practiced but not necessarily powerful.” 

“Can you tell us who the creep was?” 

Angry tone now, definitely Gwaine. Arthur opened his eyes to see Merlin shaking his head. 

“Residual magic rarely holds a personal trace for very long. It would have to be someone I either knew intimately or had encountered enough times for their magic to become familiar to me. Neither of those seems to be the case here.” 

“There are no tracks on the ground,” the ever practical Leon spoke up. “Is that because the spell was cast a while ago or did the sorcerer cover their tracks?”

Merlin worried at his lip. “Covering their tracks is more likely. It’s the simpler spell. They’d want that, especially if preserving Morgana sapped most of their strength.”

“You don’t suppose it was that dragon of hers?”

The assumption made sense to Arthur but Merlin shook his head again. “No,” he said emphatically. “Dragon magic can be tainted it’s true, but Aith- the white dragon is too young for his to have grown this corrupt. There’s darkness here. Not in deed exactly but in motive. I’m sure of it.” He sighed again, sounding defeated. 

Arthur was tempted to feel the same but he shoved it aside. “That’s a problem for another day. Go get the tools Merlin.” 

“Um, not to contradict you Sire but are you sure burying her is the best idea in light of what he just said?”

Arthur frowned at Gwaine’s words. “What do you mean?”  

“It’s just that if we bury her body the way it is, the same person who attempted this could return and try again.”

“And what else would you suggest?” Merlin asked an edge to his voice that Gwaine either didn’t notice or else ignored. 

“Clearly her body will be prey if it’s left intact. Burning would prevent that happening.” 

“Lancelot’s body was swallowed up by the void. That didn’t stop it from becoming prey. Burning her won’t change anything. Unless you think it’s just what she deserves. Being a witch and all.” 

Before a reply could come to the warlock’s challenge Leon stepped forward. “That’s not what he meant,” the knight said, gently but firmly. 

“I would never condone burning someone alive,” Gwaine explained noticeably angry. “But she is dead. And many people would say-”

“Many people didn’t know her.”

“They know what she did.”

“The same could be said about me.” 

“Enough! Arthur intervened. “There will be no burning. Merlin what are the chances she’s still a danger to Camelot?” 

Swallowing back traitorous tears Merlin replied, “No greater than it’d be in from anyone else who’d passed. She’s just a shell now. Her magic has returned to that from which it came.” 

“Then it’s time her body did the same.”

“Dust to dust,” came a quiet murmur.

“What’s that Perce?” 

The big knight shuffled his feet. “Lancelot took care of an elderly priest for a while on one of his travels. When the man died he gave him his copy of a holy book. I couldn’t read well when we met so Lance would read it aloud to me from time to time. I remember one passage spoke of God’s ultimate punishment for mankind’s disobedience. There was no mention of an afterlife, blessed or cursed. He merely decreed, ‘For dust you are and to dust you will return.’”    

That’s a far kinder fate than any of us could give her. A glance to the side showed the same thought reflected in Merlin’s eyes.  

“Let’s get to it.”

The grave was simple. A patch of soft ground under a semi stately tree. Not at all befitting of the daughter of a king. But more than a traitor and murder should be allowed.

“This is a dilemma Father would never be able to solve.” Arthur murmured to the dirt he was sitting on, a faint trace of humor finding its way into the words. “But then you always were. I remember him being so proud when you first came to us. As if you were a treasured gift someone had given him, not some random orphan he’d decided to take in. I resented you so badly for that. I couldn’t fathom how you could scream and rail at him with so little punishment. How he’d forget it ever happened the minute you’d cater to one of his idiosyncrasies. From time to time I tried to emulate you, but it never seemed to work out as well for me. 

“Of course as I would find out years later you only appeared to do what he wanted in order to get what you wanted. Unfortunately I was never so crafty. I was too afraid to be, I think. I’ve always been afraid of what others thought. Which is strange given the man I was raised by. Some would think the amount of self confidence he tried to pound into our heads to be a good thing, but not when it blinds you. Not when you buy into it so much that you exclude any and all avenues to grow. Not when you refuse to admit you were wrong, or only listen to others when they’re telling you what you want to hear. That’s another thing we’re both guilty of.

“I wish I’d listened to you more. Maybe then you would have trusted me. Would have inspired me to make up my mind sooner. I was so wrong Morgana. Wrong, and cowardly, and selfish. You would have had every right to be angry with me if you’d seen what I attempted the past few years. Well you did see with Father I suppose. Merlin hasn’t said but I’m pretty sure only you had the power or even the knowledge to make his attempts at healing fail. I almost killed him for his failure, did you know that? Wouldn’t that have played right into your hands. I swore off all magic as evil that day and pledged on every sacred thing I could think of that I would never attempt to use it again. And then? When you had Guinevere under your spell what did I do? I turned to magic again. Almost without hesitation. If it was useful then who cared about the law, it was mine to break. Just like He did.”

The grieving man fell silent, running his fingers through the cold grass beside him. “Seems we both inherited the heart of a hypocrite. Your time ran out before you could break free from that curse. Mine almost did as well. I almost wonder if it would have been more fitting if it had.” His throat tightened and he cleared it noisily. “I’m sorry. I know it’s meaningless now and you might not even be able to hear me much less care, but I promise I will do better. I may not ever be a king you would have followed but won’t repeat our father’s mistakes any longer. Camelot will endure. For both our sake's.” 

With a deep sigh he got to his feet. “This is the last time I can come to you. I wish it could be different but from here on out the good that you used to do can only be a memory, shared among those that remember it. They’ll be the only ones who know why I will always love you. For the rest...I leave it here. Goodbye sister.”

Lost in thought on his walk back Arthur didn’t even register he’d passed someone until he was several steps beyond them. Whirling around, sword halfway from his belt he drew a breath of relief when he saw who it was. 

“Merlin! Have you..were you watching the whole time?” The king asked, face flushed with embarrassment.

“No!” Merlin answered, sounding offended. “I’d never invade your privacy like that.”

Arthur could have pointed out Merlin had never given him an inkling he even knew the meaning of the word privacy. But too much had happened this past week and nerves were already frayed. Best leave it be. 

“What were you doing?” he asked instead. 

By way of reply Merlin held up his hand, a pale purple bud twirling between his fingers. “It’s all I could find.” 

Flowers for the grave. It was an old tradition, one he’d nearly forgotten. A knight’s funeral never included such things. Guinevere had known about it though. Reaching into his jacket pocket Arthur pulled out the token his wife had given him before they left. It’s petals were a little smushed but still almost miraculously white. Merlin eyed it thoughtfully as the two of them walked back to Morgana’s resting place.  

“May I?”

Taking both flowers in hand the warlock twisted the stems together and set them in the tilled up grass. Hand hovering above the blossoms he flicked a glance at Arthur. The king seemed to immediately grasp what he was asking and gave a small nod, his eyes alight with curiosity.  

A flash of gold followed a barely audible whisper and a whirl of color burst from the ground below them. Pockets of purple and white blossoms bloomed regal and bright, each one a perfect replica of the two they’d set down. Arthur took in the beauty of it silently. It didn’t escape his notice that the flowers stopped at the border of the hole they’d dug. 

“You’ve made a marker for her.” Another gift Arthur could have neither asked for nor commanded.

“And a protection.”

“How so?”

“Try to take one of the flowers.”

Bemused, the king crouched and reached for the blossom nearest him, flinching back when it stung ever so slightly. “Will it do that to anyone who happens by here?” He appreciated where Merlin was coming from but there was no need to punish every passerby who stopped to pick a flower.

“Anyone with innocent intent won’t feel any more pain than if they were pricked by a thorn. Those who come with darker motives, for them the reaction will be more...forceful.” Merlin gave his king a small smile. “No one will disturb her, I promise you that.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

“I’m not doing it for her.” Merlin answered simply. “Anything else you need to do here?”

Arthur returned the smile setting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “No,” he sighed softly. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

It won’t be long before people start getting suspicious of fatal injuries being healed. And now that Morgana’s in no danger of having her remains desecrated I can reveal the truth of how she died. Except how the council will want to know how we survived her attack in the first place. How do I-

A loud snap brought the king out of his thoughts. Lifting his head Arthur had his sword halfway out before he identified the source of the noise. As he watched Gwaine raised another thin branch into the air and brought it down hard over his knee. He added the evenly split halves to the top of the wood pile next to him. The pile promptly fell over.

Muttering exaggerated curses the knight scooted along the log he was sitting on and began reassembling the stack.

Suppressing a smile at the scene, Arthur turned his attention back to where Merlin was crouched by the fire, cleaning one of Arthur’s hunting knives. His hands moved rhythmically along the blade although his mind was clearly not on the task. The set of his shoulders and the flickering of his eyes about their surroundings spoke of someone stealing themselves for trouble. 

Before the king could deduce a reason for the uneasy expression, Leon and Percival marched purposefully into their small camp Percival carrying a large sack over his shoulder which he set  on the ground next to Merlin. Rousing from his preoccupied state, the servant moved to help unpack it. He muttered something Arthur didn’t catch and received a chuckle and rub on the head in return for it.

Leon approached and inclined his head. “We patrolled the area twice, Sire. No signs of any Saxon activity.” 

“Well done Leon, thank you.”

“Took you long enough, I’m starving. Merlin wouldn’t start cooking until you got back.”

Percival snorted at his fellow knight. “We’re all hungry Gwaine, now be nice or you won’t get any of the extras I brought.”

Curiosity piqued the knights gathered around the provisions Merlin was sorting through. 

“Ah good man Percival!” Gwaine snatched up a smaller sack and dug around inside it. With a cry of triumph he pulled out a bright red apple. “Oh you absolute beauty you!” Opening his mouth he moved to take a large bite only to chomp down hard on his own lip. 

“Ow! What on earth-” Snickering caught his attention and he glanced down to see gold fading from Merlin’s eyes, the apple now securely in the warlock’s grip. “I say that’s just unfair that is.”  

“I warned you.”

“I know but-”

“Sit down Gwaine,” Leon spoke up, a teasing lilt to his voice that made Arthur smile. “If you’re a good boy and eat all your supper, I’m sure Merlin will let you have a bit of apple as a bedtime treat.” 

Everyone - save Gwaine - laughed and Arthur’s heart swelled with pride. 

Of all his closest knights Leon’s opinion on where Arthur wanted to take Camelot concerned him the most. And indeed when the explanation had come (privately) as to the true reason he’d returned home alive and how it had opened his eyes to the need to make peace with the magical community, the knight had been scarily silent. It was only when he’d been assured that this is what his king genuinely wanted, and that he wanted full honesty in return, that the other man had been moved to speak. 

“Thank you Sire.”

Arthur blinked. “For what?”

The other man cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that the druids saved my life many years ago. And they did it using...using magic of a kind.” Arthur nodded. “They knew what I was. What I’d likely done when it came to their people. But still they spared me. And they did so without any bargaining, any demands. Since that day I have often been pained by the knowledge that I had benefited from their kindness and yet I have ended the lives of others who only sought to do the same.”

“I understand.” Arthur frowned at his knight’s uncharacteristic avoidance of eye contact. “There’s something else isn’t there.”

“A concern. May I speak freely My Lord?”

“Say what you wish.” The king repeated.

“You assigned me as your father’s guard during the year of his...illness. During the rare times he was lucid he often demanded to know what efforts were being made to recover Morgana.” Arthur nodded. He knew exactly the kind of conversations Leon was describing. “I...once I...I’m ashamed to admit this My Lord but one time I lost control of myself. I asked him why he was so obsessed with the idea of recovering someone who had set herself up as an enemy of Camelot, someone who used magic no less. Instead of being angry He acted as if none of that mattered. He said she was worth doing anything for. That he’d even...Arthur he said he’d already allowed magic to bring her back to him once. If he had too, he’d do it again.  

“I started to fetch you then, so the two of you could discuss how to change the law and he laughed. He said the law would stay as it was. But he was king so he could make exceptions if he so chose. Morgana could keep her magic, everyone else would continue to be punished. He forbade me to speak of it of course, so I tried to dismiss the thought. But he was deadly serious and it disgusted me - not the magic exactly but the hypocritical view of it. So promise me, please, you won’t repeat that. That your intentions are to free everyone, not just Merlin.” 

Arthur blinked in surprise. He’d been very careful to leave Merlin’s name out of his explanation. “I’ve no intention of insulting your intelligence, but what makes you think this would be about him?” 

“A lot of things have added up the last few days. He wasn’t there for the battle, then he was there to take you to Avalon. Gwaine was brought back on death’s door, then you and Merlin returned and he was up and about the next day. I have to wonder if the truth hasn’t been staring me in the face for years and I simply haven’t allowed myself to see it.”

“If so you would be far from alone. What’s your opinion now that you know?

“About him?”

“Yes.”

“If he’s saved your life once I can only assume he’s done it many other times. And I know he’s brave but to risk using magic to aid you means the situation must have allowed for no other option. Therefore, as much as it burns my pride to admit it, he is better placed to protect you than even I myself. For that alone I would trust him. As for everyone else, I trust you.”

Like Leon, Percival had shown a distinct lack of surprise when Arthur gave him the news. Unlike Leon, his explanation was given in four words. “I’m quiet, not blind.” 

Ravenous stomachs sated the atmosphere around the campfire became more relaxed as, in typical knight fashion, conversation turned to a debate of battle strategy. Unlike previous times however, the subject was magical battle strategy. Or in Merlin’s case, the lack of it.

“To begin with it was all instinct, my magic acted almost without thought. Now it’s more of a... trained instinct?” He wasn’t sure that was a proper expression but the others nodded like they understood. “I know what kind of magic would work well in a particular situation but once the action of a fight has started I can’t plan how it will go any more than you can.” 

The point was easily grasped. In the midst of a battle a knight didn’t recite their movements before doing them. Their focus had to be on the act, not the thought. Thus the reason training was so critical. That Merlin had had so many successes without formal training or regular practice seemed something of a miracle. 

“Sometimes,” Merlin continued, “if I’m in a safe place or have a bit of a respite I can take my time and be more selective with my actions. That’s why only the occasional bandit drops their sword or falls flat on their face, and not everyone.”

The knights traded glances at this. “That was you? All this time...you let us chalk it up to luck.” 

“What else could I do?”   

“But didn’t you ever want credit?” Gwaine asked after a bit of awkward silence.

“It wasn’t safe. Getting credit means getting noticed, getting noticed means people start watching. And if someone’s watching…” the sentence didn’t need completing.

Shame rippled through all his companions. “That had to hurt.”

Merlin flashed them a relatively genuine smile. “At first. But if there is one good thing about a peasant upbringing it’s that when you know you won’t be getting something, you soon learn to not want it.”    

He went to get to his feet then, jaw cracking under the strain of an enormous yawn, only to have the stack of dirty bowls he’d gathered up snatched from his hands. 

“I’ll do these.” 

“What? Gwaine no, I can-”

“Bup, bup, bup, don’t argue. One of the few rules I happen to remember from my mother’s house was if one person cooked, someone else had to clean up. Worked out rather well.” 

“Until your sister started volunteering to do the cooking right?” Merlin asked grinning wickedly.

“Every night the little snit. Took great pleasure in it too, bossing me around and…” he wandered off still muttering to himself.

“Since when has Gwaine had a sister?” Arthur asked.

“She’s four years his senior so I’m going to go with his entire life,” Merlin informed him cheekily. He then added, more seriously, “He hasn’t seen her since he left home. They don’t exactly get along.”

“We guessed that.” Leon chuckled. With a stretch and another yawn Merlin succeeded in rising. “Where are you off to?”

“Getting everyone’s bedrolls out.”

“Percival and I did that while you were cooking.” Leon gestured to behind where the warlock was standing. Sure enough, there were five sleeping pallets laid out nice and even, blankets folded on each one, and far enough apart that neighboring sleepers weren’t likely to bash each other in the head just from turning over in the middle of the night. He couldn’t have done a better job himself.

“I...um, thanks. Horses?”

“Done.”

“Alright, who are you and what have you done with the knights of Camelot?”

“We are knights of Camelot Merlin,” Arthur informed him. “That means we’re capable of taking care of ourselves.”

Merlin lifted an eyebrow looking him dead in the eye. “Since when?”

To Arthur’s relief Gwaine returned in time to hear the question. He clucked his tongue at the younger man. “Don’t ask, just be grateful and scuttle off to bed before Princess invents a job just to annoy you.”

With a full stomach, a warm fire, and an unexpectedly empty list of chores, it wasn’t long before Merlin did indeed drop off to sleep. Arthur wasn’t so lucky. He’d kept his promise to Guinevere on the ride out but now thoughts of the future came crashing down doubly strong on him, absorbing him completely until next thing he knew it was time for watch change, an exhausted Leon nudging Percival awake before laying down on the other side of the clearing.

Smothering a yawn, Percival commandeered a water skin and settled on the other side of the log Arthur occupied. It only took a moment for him to notice the king’s disturbed countenance.  

“Something troubling you my lord?” He asked softly.

“You heard him Percival. All these years, all he’s done, not a single reward to show for it.” Arthur looked up at his knight, expression mirroring the conflicting feelings in his heart. “How does he do it? Even now… words can’t express how much I’m going to need him in these next months and years. But knowing what I do now, how can I ask for his help and give him nothing in return?”

“Giving him the freedom to use his gifts without fear of death or loss of friendship is hardly nothing my lord. Merlin would be the first to say so. And the last to ask for anything more.”

Arthur shook his head. “He shouldn’t have to ask,” he spat out. “I should have done more for him long before now. And lifting the ban will take time. A lot of time. I can’t stand the thought of him having to wait that long for recognition. But I don’t - what do you think I should do?” 

Of all his knights Arthur knew the least about the man currently listening quietly to his king’s tortured conscience, but he needed to talk to someone. Merlin had so far protested vehemently against Arthur giving him any kind of reward, Gaius and Guinevere refused to get involved in the argument, and Gwaine had given a plentiful amount of suggestions only to follow them up with the oh so kind reassurance that it didn’t matter what Arthur did, it would never be enough anyway. Percival - the few times he’d ventured one - tended to have a balanced opinion. The king only hoped he was in the mood to share. 

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes I do.”

Percival thought a moment longer then shrugged in a ‘you asked for it’ manner. 

“I think you should respect how he feels.”

“But-”

“Arthur,” the knight interrupted, a compassionate look on his face. “Think about it from Merlin’s perspective. The entire time he’s been in Camelot his very life has depended on being invisible, even to us I’m sorry to admit. I don’t know much about his home life but it might have even been that way before he arrived. He could have spent his entire life terrified of being noticed. You don’t shed that kind of mindset easily. Suddenly putting him front and center and making a big spectacle out of everything he does will, at best, embarrass you both. At worst it will put him in harm’s way.”

Arthur frowned in concern. “What do you mean?”

Percival shifted uncomfortably, “Sire, you must know everyone who has your special favor gets a target put on their back. Sometimes that target draws nothing more than scornful looks or the occasional jostle in a hallway or on the training field. Sometimes it brings far worse. Merlin’s a strong man - far stronger than any of us - but he’s still human. He’s going to be facing enough hatred and fear when it’s revealed he’s got magic. You are planning on letting others know?”

“I’m not announcing him in front of the whole kingdom,” Arthur shuddered at the memory of the scorching look Merlin had given him when that suggestion had been made. It was a wonder he hadn’t been reduced to a pile of ash. “But yes eventually it will be common knowledge. Are you suggesting I do nothing until then?”

“If it’s what he wants-”

“How can he want me looking at him every single day, knowing what he means to me, and doing nothing about it? How can he want the world to see him as nothing but my idiot servant? To never see how valuable he is?”

“You heard him earlier, he’s long since let go of the idea of being valued for what he does. If you put him on a pedestal now it would do nothing but drive him away. Don’t make decisions for him. He knows his own mind. If you want him to change it in line with what you ask, you’ll have to be patient. Be a friend. We all will.” 

“Alright so I won’t force anything, but he can’t expect me not to offer, not when I’ve rewarded everyone else who’s done me favors. Even those I shouldn’t have.” 

Percival was quiet again. “There may be one thing you can offer him that he’d accept. I know he’s wanted it in the past.”

“What is it?”

“A seat at your table.”

Arthur blinked. “You just said he wouldn’t want me to make a show of his magic.”

“I’m not saying do it for his magic . Surely he’s worth more to you than that?”

“Of course he is! You’ve no idea how much I regret not listening to his counsel and his warnings in the past.” 

“We all do. So that’s where you start. Give him a chance to be appreciated for everything else he does for you. And for Camelot. He’s a physician, a counselor, exceeds at keeping his head under pressure, and I can almost guarantee that not a thing goes on in your castle that he doesn’t know about. The man has eyes as observant as the hawk he’s named after.”

“A merlin is a type of falcon.”

“My point is that his knowledge is hardly limited to his magic. And you need to make him understand that you value him for who he is, not just what he can do.”

It was excellent reasoning, Arthur couldn’t deny that. He doubted Merlin would either except that...“He will point out that everyone at the table has some sort of rank within the court. And that the nobles will object.”

“Titles perhaps but not everyone is nobility. I’m not, neither is Gwaine. Or Gaius. And Gaius was part of your father’s council was he not? Merlin must be at least equal to him by now.”

A slow grin spread across Arthur’s face. He would have to consult with Percival more. The man’s silent nature certainly wasn’t concealing a lack of intelligence. Quite the opposite.  

“If anyone truly kicks up a fuss, you can let them believe Merlin’s presence is temporary and then just forget to make it otherwise. I imagine he’ll prove himself indispensable rather quickly. Just don’t leave the objectors alone with Gwaine - ever.” 

Despite the seriousness of the warning Arthur laughed. “More like don’t leave them alone with me.” Percival smiled faintly. “It’s a good idea but it’s a big table, I don’t want him getting lost in the crowd.” 

“Then put him somewhere where there can be no doubt of his value. The same place you put him at the first round table, the same place he’s always been. And the place that he and only he deserves.”

Chapter Text

So there’s red with anger and green with envy, what color is so nervous you can’t see straight? 

A frivolous question perhaps but Merlin thought the answer merited serious consideration. Would grey be appropriate, for the way that color narrowed your vision down to pinpricks? Yellow for how every flicker of light was as brilliant as the midday sun? White for how everyone told you you looked pale as a sheet? 

“Merlin.”

Black for the gloved fingers snapping in your face? Blue for the eyes suddenly boring into yours?

“MERLIN!” The blue took on an exasperated sound. 

Colors don’t have sound… They didn’t have physical force either but the back of the warlock’s head felt an impact anyway. This once - and only this once - he admitted it did him good. 

“There you are!” Arthur ground out as he blinked himself back to the here and now. “The others will be here any minute, I can’t afford to have you disappearing into your head right now.”

“Arthur,” another voice spoke out calm and collected, “give him a moment. I did the same thing plenty of times when I first sat at these meetings. You never shouted at me for it. Here,” Merlin managed a shaky smile as the voice resolved itself into the warm tone of his oldest friend, “keep this next to you.” Gwen handed him a blank piece of paper. He took it with an equally blank look.  

“I’ve spent more than three years laughing at the sarcastic comments you’ve whispered in Arthur’s ear as you’ve filled his cup,” she explained. “You won’t be able to do that now, but I still want to know what you're thinking. So write them down and tell us after.”

“You do know other people will be able to read what he’s writing,” Arthur pointed out, only to be met with an all too pleased look from his servant. 

“I can write in more than one language Sire.”

The king blinked three times. “Good to know.”

Conversation halted as the doors to the council chambers opened and the knights and noblemen filed in. The subtlest bump of an arm against his own kept Merlin in his seat, but only just. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be at Arthur’s side when the others arrived but he always retreated to the background immediately. He wasn’t doing that today and the inclination to run or at the very least squirm, only increased with every frown and raised eyebrow his lack of movement earned him.  

However, as Percival had pointed out, Merlin was the only one who openly challenged Arthur on anything and even he restrained himself in court, therefore everyone took the open seats that were available to them without objection. Nothing looked amiss in the final setup, if anything his presence allowed for the gap left by Mordred’s absence to be filled as if it had never existed. 

After everyone was seated, polite and expectant looks aimed their way, Merlin realized that even if he had desired to overthrow Pendragon rulership there was no way he could have taken the throne for himself. He was tired, anxious, and his backside was already sore after just ten minutes in his chair. The thought of hours and hours in it, day in and day out...

The knock of a foot against his ankle made him look up quickly. Sir Leon gestured with his eyes to where Arthur had begun addressing the room. 

“I want to thank you all for your patience. We’ve all been through our fair share of ordeals, the culmination of which have been drastically felt by every man, woman, and child in Camelot. I am counting on each and everyone of you to aid both myself and the kingdom in myself in laying those troubles to rest as quickly as possible. In that interest I have decided to share with the council some facts that only a privileged few have been aware of up until now. Including the real reason we returned victorious from Camlann.”

“It was like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Gwaine’s testimony, for once, Arthur noted, as calm as it was direct, seemed to be making a favorable impression. “I’ve witnessed magic in battle several times but I’ve never seen it so controlled. So exact. The sorcerer King Arthur mentioned was willing not only to stand by Camelot but to stand by her against an army commanded by Morgana. An act no sorcerer that we know of either by lack of power or desire has been able to do. As unconventional as the idea may seem, we won because of magic. How can you not grasp that?”

One of the lord’s scoffed. “You expect us to believe that we can accept magic is good based on the actions of one person?” 

Geoffrey the archivist answered with a scoff of his own. “Some were all too willing to think magic evil based on the actions of one person.” 

“He saved us.” Leon spoke up. “Willingly and at great personal risk. For the moment that’s enough for me. I’m not saying take this as a sign that magic in general should be running rampant in the kingdom, but this man’s actions show proof of his loyalty to us. He deserves some in return.” 

Arthur let out a slow breath when frowns and grunts were all that met this declaration. 

Sir Robert, the youngest knight present, cleared his throat hesitantly. “I accept that what he did worked out in our favor. But how can we know the man was truly trying to help us for our sake? Morgana was powerful, maybe she was a threat to him and he attacked to get her out of the way.” 

“You weren’t in line of sight to him during the battle were you?” When the young man shook his head Leon continued, addressing everyone, “I was. His attacks were focused on the Saxon army. Only on the army. And he was very specific, focusing on aiding those of our troops in danger of being overrun. Once their way was clear he would move on to the next group.”  

“I saw only one strike hit near Morgana,” Percival added. “And both I and Sir Gwaine can personally attest that any injury she may have sustained she made a full recovery from.”

“Or maybe the damage caught up to her later.” Robert pressed. “How else could she die if not from magic?” 

Opinions flew left and right on that subject.

“Don’t be ridiculous, if the sorcerer killed her there’d be no way we wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“He’d hardly come waltzing into Camelot claiming to have murdered someone with magic!”

“Why not? If what the knights say about his power is true then we’d hardly be able to hurt him.”

“He must have another motive in mind. Maybe he wants us to believe she’s still alive, that way we’ll still need him.”

“Enough.” Arthur called the room to order. This is going better than he imagined but not as well as he’d hoped. Time to take a chance. “My sister is dead, I witnessed it myself. And yes magic caused her death, but it wasn’t the old man’s magic.” ‘Not exactly anyway,’ he added to himself. 

Standing, he unsheathed his sword. “Many of you were present four years ago when I drew this from the stone in the forest of Ascetir. You’ve seen me use it to train, to fight, many of you have even been knighted by this very blade. It has seen the most frequent use of any sword I’ve ever owned. Given the amount of wear and tear I’ve put on it, it should have been replaced or at least repaired many times over but it hasn’t. Anyone want to take a guess as to why?”

A hush fell across the room, all eyes but Merlin’s glued to either him or the sword. Ignoring the way his friend appeared to be busy puzzling over something only Merlin could puzzle over Arthur lifted the blade higher, mesmerized as always by the way the light reflects off the blended metals. Across the words inscribed across both flats of the blade. Words he’d long ago memorized without ever knowing their meaning. The others seemed just as enthralled and it was a long moment before Arthur broke the spell he’d unconsciously produced and lay the sword down across the table in front of him. 

“Magic has been at my side for years now. I’ve wielded it, guided it and been protected by it in ways I don’t know if I’ll ever understand. This sword,” he tapped its handle, “this sword was forged for me. It has saved my life during many battles and it was this sword that ended the life of Camelot’s greatest enemy.” 

There was quiet as he retook his seat but then a question was raised that in hindsight should have been obvious.

“My lord, if the sword is magical, how could it have been meant for a Pendragon? And how come none of us were aware of the fact? How can you even be sure it is magical?”

Because Merlin says it is. If only that was an answer they’d accept. Before he could find one they would, Merlin spoke for the first time.

“The sword is meant to be yielded by the rightful king of Camelot. The fact he was capable of removing it from the stone proves that king is Arthur. Despite his past experience with magic, the magic embedded in that blade belonged to him from that moment forward. And we know the blade was magical because by Morgana’s own testimony a magical blade was the only thing that could kill her.”

Geoffrey nodded in acceptance of that but continued. “Sire, by your own testimony you were nearly felled by a grievous injury sustained during the battle. Magical blade or not, how did you get advantage over one as trained as her?”

King and Warlock share a loaded glance, Arthur’s heart clenching at how dark and distant Merlin’s eyes have gone. Admitting this will take a toll on them both but he’d promised himself Merlin would get the credit for what he deserved, even if it was something the younger man hated himself for having to do. 

‘Do you want to say it?’ Arthur asked silently, his expression sympathetic and clear of judgement. He got a barely visible head shake as answer.

“I didn’t kill her, Merlin did.” 

Shock and bewilderment rippled across the room, more than one person staring at the servant uncomprehendingly. They can’t understand why he’s not crowing in triumph. The thought brought both pride and sadness. That others could be shocked that someone could perform a heroic (if one could call the execution of their sister heroic) act and then carry on as if nothing had happened. That instead of beaming with pride or at least laughing at their slack jawed faces, Merlin’s demeanor was of a person wanting nothing more than to vanish from sight. 

Shoulders hunched the young man stared resolutely at the table in front of him, limiting the visibility of his expression. What could be seen was pinched, withdrawn, and borderline self loathing, a fact that, with the exception of those who know him best, only served to further the confusion of those present. 

“You’re serious my lord?” one of the knights finally choked out.

“I am. Merlin did for me what I should have done years ago but was unable to for many reasons. He’s eliminated a threat that was allowed to grow and fester while we were left trapped behind 30 years of fear and ignorance. For the moment he’s brought peace. There are many out there, with magic and without it, who want nothing more than to make that peace last. As has been said, Camelot is loyal to those who are loyal to her. If we’re willing to take the first steps, if we’re willing to put aside the ignorance, then hopefully the fear and anger will follow.”

No one said a word in dispute and, after a pointed nod from Arthur, Merlin relaxed back into his chair. 

“Where do you intend to start reintroducing magic Sire?” Geoffrey asked. His expression was as equally wary as the other councilmen but Arthur saw a glimmer of tentative hope there as well. He answered without hesitation.   

“Where the magic started, with saving my life. The queen and I have discussed this thoroughly and we are agreed. We will accept no advantage that is denied to the people of Camelot. I was healed from a fatal wound using magic. Not for the first time, I might add. Who here claims me guilty of a crime for accepting such aid?” That’s what I thought . “Yet for decades any who sought the healing arts of sorcery were condemned to death. No longer. From henceforth the use of magic in the healing arts is allowable. For now it will be only when such measures are necessary to prevent death or a life altering injury. In time the law will be relaxed to include more situations as the need arises. I will hear your thoughts on this matter but let me be clear this decision is final.”

The dissenters (Merlin counted 7 of them) fell into one of two categories. Those who insisted the people would descend into chaos at the very thought that the healers they trusted would be dabbling the “dark arts” and the others who didn’t believe there would ever be a use or a need for magic healing. 

The king addressed the more absurd notion first.

“Gaius in all your years of service to the kingdom, how many times have you encountered injuries and illnesses that could have been cured if only magic were allowed? How many lives could you have saved had my father’s laws not stayed your hand?”

“I fear any number I give you would be mere speculation, Sire.”

“Permission to speculate.” Arthur gave a glare which Merlin easily read as Don’t go diplomatic on me when I’m trying to make a point Gaius. Fortunately his old mentor did too. 

“The total number is far too many for me to count my lord. But I’d venture at least a half dozen for every battle Camelot has engaged in.”

There were flinches all around, several minutes passing before anyone spoke. “Does any more need to be discussed?” Arthur finally asked.

“What if...what if the person being treated does not wish magic to be used in their care?” 

Finally a sensible question. “A physician's duty is to their patient,” Merlin spoke up. “That includes respecting their wishes. If they are conscious and voice an objection, or if one of their family members makes it clear that they would wish to have no contact with magic even at the expense of their life then that wish will be respected. If no such opinion is given then we will do as morality dictates.”

“I remind you we are talking life and death at this point gentlemen, not cuts and bruises. Do not think I make this decision lightly. But the fact remains that if I continue to allow good men and women to die because of prejudice and fear then I have no right to call myself a fair and just king.”

“This could still be a trick. A prelude to magic gaining a foothold in controlling your kingdom. We still have not established that this sorcerer we’re discussing did not provide help without an ulterior motive.”

Really starting to dislike that one.

“Lord Osberht,” Geoffrey countered once again, “many in this kingdom have lent their particular talents - or simply their fortunes - to aiding their sovereign. No one has ever accused them of doing so solely to gain favor or a debt owed to them. Not even when such were their motives and everyone knew so.”  

“Should I question every good deed done in my court?” Arthur added. “Should I view every act of goodwill with suspicion? What would you say are the signs I should look for when deciding who deserves my trust?”

“Trust would be earned through actions Sire. You know the gestures of aid and admiration from your noble subjects are true and loyal because of their many years of faithful service. That we’ve lived up to the positions we’ve earned.”

If it weren’t for the quick action of Gwen placing her hand on her husband’s arm the meeting might have ended very differently. As it was, Merlin’s heart was warmed by the fierce defensive look in his king’s eye and the overly polite tone in which he responded to the oh so subtle insult heaped on two thirds of the men (and woman) at the table. 

“So remaining at my side despite decades of hardship, sacrificing their preferences so that I may rule my people according to what I believe to be best, and, while not hesitating to offer me at times unwelcome advice, yielding to my command even going so far as to salvage the best possible outcome should my decision fail to bring the outcome I expected. These are the actions of a man loyal to me? These are the people I should have as advisers Lord Osberht?

“I should say so Sire.”

“They are the ones I should entrust with tasks I find myself lacking needed experience in?”

“Indeed. Any loyal man would use his every skill to carry out your commands faithfully.”

“And if someone said I was an unwise king to avail myself of their skills?”

“No one would dare!”

Arthur sat back looking equal parts courteous and smug. How does he do that? Merlin wondered.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement then. I do not have experience in healing magic, but members of this council do, and I would be wise to respect their experience. Thank you Lord Osberht, you’ve set my mind at ease. Now if I hear rumors of anyone doubting the loyalty of those I’ve entrusted with the lives of my people I know I have my council’s support. 

Merlin bit back a laugh. Oh Arthur. Most of the time you’re a complete cabbage head but every now and then…

After a moment of self indulgent humor Arthur stood, slowly making eye contact with each person in the room. “Since I took the throne I have made a concerted effort to act in the name of peace for my kingdom. I like to think that in many ways I have been successful. But partial peace is not enough. Temporary peace is not enough. The absence of conflict may masquerade as peace but it is just that, an appearance. The changes I have in mind won’t come fast and they won’t be easy but they will be real. I won’t settle for anything less.”

Chapter Text

“You should have seen the way the little lad’s eyes lit up. As soon as the pain stopped He immediately started flapping his arm like a bird. His mother had to remind him just because the break was healed it didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt it again if he moved it too much.”  

Merlin chuckled and Gaius congratulated himself for saving the story of his latest magical healing as a distraction while they completed the necessary but rather tedious job of labeling a whole new batch of potions. 

Happy chats such as these had become common in the past month, the people slowly losing the reservation they had in accepting small amounts of magic in their lives. Arthur was wise in how he’d introduced the subject, being forthright and positive but not overly enthusiastic. He was letting results speak for themselves. So far so good. 

“And next door to them little Elvira-” the words died off at the sound of shattered glass. The physician looked up to see red quickly saturating the rag his surrogate son was pressing against his palm. “Oh look what you’ve done to yourself. I’ll get my thread.”

“No no wait. I want to try…” Words to bind flesh rolled off Merlin’s now well practiced tongue and within seconds not even a scar remained to give evidence of the injury. Watching the way the brilliant gold lit up his eyes never failed to give Gaius a thrill. 

The pride that filled the old man soon turned to alarm as those same eyes, now the crisp clear blue so much like his mother’s, filled with tears. Suspecting he would be as helpless to stop them as he was to define what prompted them, he forewent questions and simply gathered the young man into his arms. 

“There now, my boy it’s alright. It’s going to be alright.” Merlin sniffed loudly. “Can you talk about it?”

“I.. I just did that. I healed my hand and no one can order my death for it.” 

“Yes you did. It’s not a problem now. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Merlin pulled back with a frustrated whine. “But I am afraid. Why Gaius? Why am I still having trouble believing this is real? It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and..”

“And?”

Merlin dropped his gaze away. “I get afraid it’s going to stop,” he whispered. “That this is a dream, or..or something will happen and Arthur will feel justified in changing his mind again, and I’ll be right back where I always was. I tell myself it won’t happen, but then I’ll think about how much more needs to be done and the fear crawls into my throat and it’s like I’m being strangled from the inside out...and I just…” Merlin pulled at his hair. “Gaius, why can’t I just be happy?” 

‘Once bitten, twice shy’, was an event often witnessed in the physician's line of work. Or in his boy’s case it was ‘a hundred times bitten, still not shy enough.” Merlin, for all his secrets, never had succeeded in burying his heart. He may not show what he felt but he felt it just the same. Something others including his guardian sometimes failed to remember.

“You’re human Merlin.” 

“Some would dispute that.”

“Don’t start.”

“You didn’t hear what my father said.”

“What the cave said using your father as a mouthpiece.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

Gaius bit back a sharp rebuttal. It wasn’t Merlin’s fault he was like this. Two of the most stubborn people in the world just had to reproduce didn’t they?

“What if it is Gaius? What if I went through all of it only to watch everyone I love die anyway? What if I can never join them?”

“Everyone dies my boy, someday. That’s one law that is beyond even magic’s power to change. But spending all your time obsessing over death is a poor way to live, if it is even living at all. We must cherish the time we have. We all want to end up with something we can be proud of, but when doing so robs us of every chance to find joy out of life…”He sighed. “I fear I have done you a disservice in always urging you to wait. To look to the future and not build a life for yourself now. If you aren’t where you are, you’re nowhere.”

Seeing his famous eyebrow mirrored back at him gave the physician pause over his last statement. “Ah. That sounded wiser before I said it. My point is, focusing on what you can control will help ease your worry about what you can’t.”

Merlin nodded. “I understand. I’ve been having dreams the last few nights. Ones where Arthur doesn’t make it.”

Gaius made a noise of dismay and hugged him a little tighter.  

“Thinking he’s gone... it isn’t just pain. I feel so empty, like I’ve lost my whole purpose in living.” 

“That’s understandable.”

“Yes but…”

“But?”

“Losing one person shouldn’t have the power to destroy me like that. For ten years he’s been all that has mattered. His life, his future. I denied myself everything because the minute I thought I could have him and them they’d be taken from me. I don’t want it to be like that anymore. I told him out there that I wouldn’t give up serving him for anything and I do mean that. But I need to do more. I need to have more than one thing for my entire life to be about. If losing him means I lose everything, did I really have anything to begin with?

“Helping restore magic’s rightful place in Camelot. Isn’t that something?”

He worried the comment would sound condescending but Merlin didn’t take it as such. Instead he paused, his head turned a little to the side as he pondered the question. Since when has he started acting so much like his mother? Gaius hadn’t seen Hunith in years but never had he felt her absence more keenly. Merlin had been to see her once since Camlann but hadn’t been able to stay long. With spring planting in Ealdor in full swing she couldn’t return with him, but he wished she had. At such a momentous time in her son’s life her influence was sorely needed. 

A soft sigh pulled the old man from his musing. Merlin smiled faintly at him. “It is something. And I couldn’t be more grateful. But I need to do more than sit in the council room trying my hardest not to roll my eyes."

“Well then what will you do? You have more within your control than you ever have before. Do you know where you want to start?”

Those blue eyes glinted with determination. “I do. There’s someone out there who needs me, and I need to find him before it’s too late.” 

“Gwen said you’re planning on revoking the automatic death penalty in relation to all magic?” Arthur cringed at how hesitant the question sounded.

“Yes,” he answered firmly, waving at Merlin to put the dirty dish tray down and sit across from him. “The act of using magic itself that is. However, if someone is caught using magic for any purposes other than healing I will have to order an investigation. Criminal acts, even minor ones, will be punished according to the law.”

“As it should be.”

Relieved that they agreed on that, the king switched focus. “Now on the proactive side of things  I want a detailed list of magic’s most practical applications in the fields of agriculture and building maintenance. As many as you can think of.”

“I’ll start working on it in the morning.”

“Do it tonight. I want to present it to the council in the morning.”

Merlin opened and closed his mouth silently before looking away and fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. Arthur shifted in his seat, trying not to succumb to the edgy feeling he got whenever Merlin went quiet. 

It had happened frequently over the past month. His servant acted like his usual self when there were other people around, but when it was just the two of them things got...awkward. Arthur wanted that to stop. He wanted his best friend back - not that he was quite ready to say that out loud. But then again with Merlin trying to appear relaxed while at the same time tossing uneasy glances at the king every other second Arthur would say just about anything to relieve the tension.

“What is it Merlin?” He asked, trying for a kind tone. No need to make the man more jumpy than he already was.

“Nothing,” was the far too quick response.

“It’s something, tell me.” 

Merlin chewed his lower lip but didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the table rather than on Arthur. Finally the king reached over and flicked his ear making him look up in irritation. Arthur raised his eyebrows in an ‘I’m waiting’ gesture and Merlin eventually caved.

“I can’t work on the list tonight, and I might not be at the meeting tomorrow.” 

“I see. And just why might that be?”

His friend avoided his eye. “I have to go...see someone.”

“The barkeep at the Rising Sun missing his regular customer?” The joke didn’t get a smile, or a snort, or even an eye roll. 

“Who?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

Uh oh. Arthur swallowed hard but nodded.

“I need to order a search mission.”

The king sat up, instantly alert. “Why didn’t you say so earlier! Who’s missing? Why would I be mad-?

“Arthur.” Right. This is the part where you tell why. 

“The white dragon, the one Morgana had fighting beside her, it’s my fault she found him. The egg hidden in the tomb of Ashkanr… it wasn’t destroyed when the tower fell. I saved it.”

Oh. 

Recovering from the surprise, Arthur silently berated himself for having let the beast slip his mind. When the old sorcerer had ordered the dragon away he hadn’t had time to be anything but grateful. But later it was one of the things that had caused more than a momentary flash of worry when he’d learned just who the old man was. Merlin’s magic hadn’t been enough to stop the Great Dragon’s rampage (He still wasn’t sure just what had) but it had been enough to command the younger. He’d wondered if it was simply a matter of the dragon’s age or if his friend’s power had just grown that much over the years. Now here was a simpler solution: If Merlin’s magic had hatched the dragon then the creature could be bonded to him somehow, like a war stallion reared from a foal by one rider alone. It was still capable of independent thought, but it had drilled enough to balk at disobeying it’s master’s will.      

“How on earth did you manage to raise a dragon amongst everything else?”

Merlin’s face twisted painfully. “I didn’t. Right before Morgana and the Southern army attacked I told Kilgharrah to look after him. For three years there was no need to contact him so I just assumed he’d listened to me. I should have…” he shook his head adding in a barely audible whisper. “My father would be so ashamed of me.

“Anyway,” he continued, louder, “the next time I saw him was when we went to rescue the knights from Ismere. He was there, with Morgana, and his body was - is - deformed. Stunted. It’s horrible. I asked him what happened but he can’t speak like Kilgharrah can. I don’t know how he ended up that way, or why he was loyal to her, or anything!”

A conversation from the previous year crossed Arthur’s mind. “I think I might.”

As quickly and dispassionately as he could he repeated the story the Sarrum had told them during that disastrous visit. How the ruler had kept both Morgana and the dragon prisoner beneath his castle. How He’d bragged that the pit they’d been confined in was far too small for the creature to grow properly and how his men had laughed during the long nights as it had screamed and cried. By the time he was finished Merlin’s face was alight with a rage that had the king grateful the Sarrum was already dead. 

“A crossbow bolt through the heart was too quick,” Merlin spat. “I should have made him suffer.”

Counting all the ways that sentence alarmed him would take hours so Arthur quickly redirected the conversation to safer (hopefully) territory. “So you want to go find Morgana’s dragon and-”

“He didn’t belong to her! Or to me. Or to anyone. He’s a living, breathing, reasoning creature, not some mindless possession!” 

Blowing out a breath against his instinctive response to being spoken to in such a way, Arthur waited until the moment passed and Merlin had blinked distraught tears from his eyes before trying again. 

“You want to find the white dragon and do what? I can’t have him roaming Camelot’s lands where just anyone could come across him.”   

“As if I’d put him through that. No, I’m going to order Kilgharrah to get off his scaly old hide and find the baby - yes he may have hatched almost five years ago but that’s still a baby by dragon reckoning. At least I think it is. Once he tells me exactly where Aithusa has sequestered himself only then will I go. And, if by some miracle I manage to get him to forgive me for abandoning him, I’m going to try my best to heal him. I don’t know nearly as much as I should when it comes to how dragons should grow but the last month has improved my healing skills dramatically. And if that fails there’s numerous places fabled for their healing properties. I’ll make use of them if needed. Then I’ll find some safe place for him to roam until dragon kind is welcome in Camelot.”

The king rubbed his forehead against a rapidly oncoming headache. “Alright, just assuming that I agree with all of this - and I’m not saying I don’t,” he added quickly before he had two handfuls of angry warlock to deal with, “why does healing and caring for a baby dragon fall to you and not someone like, I don’t know, the druids.”

Merlin gave him a puzzled frown. “Have I really not told you? I’m the last Dragonlord.” 

“I thought you said you’d asked your last favor, Young Warlock.”

“This is an order not a favor.” 

The dragon shifted his weight, his gaze momentarily wary before it smoothed out. “What might that be?”

“Find Aithusa.”

The alarm was now more pronounced. “Why now? What purpose would it serve? The young one chose to side with a great evil-”

“Did he? It seems to me he sided with the person that was there for him when he was vulnerable and alone. We failed him Kilgharrah, and we might have a chance to atone for that. I will not waste any time in taking advantage of the opportunity.”

“What does your king think of this? Will you neglect your-”

“Enough. Arthur accepts that I have responsibilities other than him. It’s time I did too. Now from this moment on, unless I call for you, you are to dedicate your time and energy to locating Aithusa. When you find him do not engage unless it is to protect him from harm. Tell him to find the closest safe location and remain there and then return to me immediately. You will then take me to him.”

“That is a great deal to ask.”

“It is no more than should have been done from the beginning.”

“If it hasn’t escaped your notice Young Warlock I am old.”

Merlin smiled faintly. “If it hasn’t escaped yours, I am far more powerful than I used to be.” Chanting a long stream of words - more for effect than need to speak aloud, he had to admit -  a rush of magic poured from his fingers, bathing the dragon in bright golden light. 

When it faded the ancient being stood before him refreshed if not reborn. His millennia of life was still written across every scale of his massive body, but now it showed up the strength of its host rather than dragging him down. The impact of the change - and how much it would cost to any less than Emrys - was not lost on Kilgharrah and he would have wept were dragons capable of such an act. He gradually came down off the euphoria to see Merlin watching him closely.

“I have shown you mercy,” he spoke low and forceful. “Now you must do the same to others.” 

Kilgharrah smiled and bowed his head humbly. “As you say. I had thought we’d reached the end of our path together, I now see I was wrong. It will be an honor to continue knowing you. May we see each other soon.” 

The night air was fresh and the breeze carried the smell of spring rains soon to work their way down from the surrounding mountains. The effect was soothing as Merlin slipped unobserved  back into the citadel as he had a hundred times before. He’d left word for George to be ready to assist the king with his nighttime routine (an act Arthur would be sure to get back at him for later) but despite the late hour he was tempted to look in on his friend. Except that could mean having to finish their conversation from earlier, something he wasn’t sure he was ready to do...

"What do you mean you ‘forgot’ to mention it!?” Arthur half growled in disbelief. 

Merlin swallowed hard. “You did say you didn’t want to hear everything right away.”

"Little things Merlin. I said I didn’t need to hear all the little things. You having a special  appointment as Lord of the Dragons isn’t exactly little. If you meant it as a surprise, you have an even worse sense of humor than I thought you did.”

"Why would I think it a surprise? You already know I can summon Kilgharrah at will and that he’s helped me whether he’s wanted to or not. How do you think I did that?”

"Um, magic?” 

“Ha. If my magic worked on him I wouldn’t be a Dragonlord.”

Arthur had paused then, and Merlin had seen the questions forming on his lips when a guard’s urgent knock had interrupted the conversation. Having to part ways to handle separate disturbances, Merlin had purposely kept himself away from the king’s chambers until it was time to meet with Kilgharrah.

He was trying to be more open, he really was. And of all things the loss of a father would be something Arthur would understand and sympathize with. But... 

“There you are!”

Merlin most definitely did not yelp upon opening his door to find Gwen sitting on a bench staring at him sternly. 

“Ummm. What are you doing here?” Not how one typically should address their queen but her frown didn’t gain in intensity. Standing, she thrust a brown paper wrapped package into his hands. 

“Sitting and wondering if you were ever going to return home. I told you I was coming by this evening.”

He had absolutely no memory of that, but knowing better than to contradict her he gestured to the bundle instead. “This is for me?” Annoyed expression vanishing she nodded eagerly, almost shyly.  

Setting the package down he peeled the covering away to reveal a dark blue jacket made of the finest fabric he’d seen outside of a royal’s wardrobe. Half in awe he lifted it up, feeling the weight of the cloud soft fabric, studying the way the candlelight reflected the delicate, shimmery thread woven throughout the material.

“Do you like it?” the queen asked, trembling with excitement or nerves. 

“Gwen I...it’s beautiful! Why...I’ve no need…”

“Who cares!” She interrupted sternly. “You deserve it. And more! Arthur wanted to order you a whole new wardrobe but I finally talked him down to one thing at a time.”

“What would I do with a bunch of fancy new clothes? I’m a servant.”

“Who sits at the king’s right hand at council meetings and who is one of the few people who can guide us through understanding what we’ve grown up in ignorance of. Your presence at court isn’t going to diminish just because you’ve refused a title. Now,” she took the jacket from his hands, draping it over her arm, and tugged on his collar, “take this off and put this one on. I want to make sure it fits. I wanted this to be a surprise so I had to use your measurements from last year.”

“Wait, you made my jacket yourself?”

She hid a smile at his possessive reference to the garment and nodded in affirmation. “It was the least I could do.”  

The jacket was just a tiny bit shorter than he was used to, and a bit tight in the arms and shoulders, (despite his protest Gwen insisted that aspect of it was flattering and should be left be). Still, wearing it was pretty close to dreaming. He was almost sad to take it off although keeping it on while he slept would defeat the purpose of having something of brand new quality.  

After he’d settled in bed for the night, new jacket safely hung in his clothes cupboard, Merlin decided it wasn’t the garment itself that was sparking the joyous feeling. It was the fact his queen had given to him not as reward or obligation, but just because she wanted to. Granted, he’d known Gwen and Arthur cared deeply for him - they’d both proved it many a time in their own way -  but he couldn’t deny a feeling of being left behind the last few years as they’d come together and forged their own path as a couple. This seemingly small gesture had done a great deal to alleviate that. It wasn’t a title or honors, or a grand demonstration, he didn’t need that. It was simply a reminder that, despite everything, he was their friend.

Despite the still prevalent anxiety over the future he found himself drifting off feeling happier than he had in years.

Chapter Text

“So what’s keeping our illustrious leader anyway?” Gwaine asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head. 

Merlin shrugged. “He just said if he was delayed more than half an hour Sir Leon and I could start the meeting without him. Now get your feet off the table.”

Leon scowled at his fellow knight. “Arthur would have your head for that.” 

“Merlin would protect me.”

“Patch you up you mean.”

“You wouldn’t stop him from hurting me? I’m wounded.” Gwaine pressed a hand to his heart.

“Do as Sir Leon says or you’re gonna be. I’m still the one cleaning this table.”

With a dramatic sigh the knight straightened up and put his feet on the ground. “Why you’re still a servant is beyond me.”

“Oh don’t you start.”

The whispers from the other side of the room at their interaction only increased at that remark. A few knights leveled a glare at Merlin that it took every one of Arthur’s lessons on keeping up the appearance of confidence even if it wasn’t felt to keep him shrinking back from. He swallowed hard and glanced toward Sir Leon who hadn’t missed the look on his comrades faces.

“Is there a problem?” The First Knight asked. 

“Sir Gwaine has kindly brought to our attention a very serious problem. The fact that a servant is among our number. One that’s spent years tormenting the king with his lack of respect and who now flouts Camelot’s greatest law with his… his foul arts. And we are expected to aid and protect him as he defies everything our kingdom stands for?” 

 It could have been his imagination but it seemed to Merlin that Leon smiled ever so faintly. “I have it on good authority that the king quite enjoys his what you call torment. Both taking and giving it.”

“Especially giving,” the servant echoed not quietly enough if the added glares in his direction were any indication. 

Unfazed the knightly chieftain continued. “And any magic” he stressed the proper word “he might be capable of performing has been used with your king’s express consent and to the improvement of both the kingdom as a whole and to the lives of many individuals therein. Not excluding many of those seated at this very table.”  

“That means nothing.” One knight spoke up, quickly followed by others. 

“Who says the king’s actions are of his own mind?”

“He could still turn on us.”

“My father was killed by magic.” 

“Mine was killed by a knight,” Merlin cut in levelly. “As were several of my companions and the only woman I have ever loved. If any of you have an accusation of mistreatment against your person to make against me, please do air it now.”

The comment quailed the accusations, the anger of the opponent knights fading more into uncertainty. All except for one, who in an instant had sprung to his feet and had his blade inches from Merlin’s throat. 

Aside from a flinch and gesture to arrest violent retaliation from a certain quarter Merlin didn’t move. A one sided furious stare off lasted several moments before the knight realized provocation wasn’t going to get him the result he wanted. He apparently decided to try goading next.  

“You heard Sir Leon. The king has authorized the use of magic,” he said voice dripping with derision.

“Healing magic,” Merlin emphasized the first word.

“We both know you get away with more than that. Come on, let’s see what you’re capable of.”

Seeing as nothing both legal and truthful could be said in reply to that, Merlin instead focused on keeping his breathing steady and gaze somewhat in line with the other man’s. Getting impatient the man moved the sword to his chest. 

“What’s stopping you? The king has to have given you permission to defend yourself.”

Merlin scratched his head. “Maybe? I think he said something once like ‘Next time you feel threatened, do something about it instead of hiding behind a tree or something equally ridiculous.’ I don’t know if that counts a permission but I’ve yet to have cause to test it.” 

So maybe the taunt was a bad idea. Particularly as the not quite suppressed snickers from one corner of the room had the knight’s face flushing the color of his cloak.

“You don’t consider a knight of the realm to be a threat Sorcerer?” he asked, pushing his sword a little closer.

“His name is Merlin” Gwaine’s voice rang out then was quickly silenced by an elbow to his side. Merlin lips quirked appreciatively at his friend but still he stayed quiet. 

“You think I won’t kill you?” Sir Lucian asked, frustration at his anger being ignored fully apparent.

“I think,” Merlin said, his voice calm and level despite the sharp implement in front of him, “that the king has given orders for all those using sanctioned magic not to be harmed and that despite your personal feelings, your honor and loyalty will not allow you to defy him.”  

“What do you know of honor and loyalty?”

“Everything!” A chorus of voices fairly shouted the word making the knight jump, his sword putting a nick in Merlin’s jacket as he pulled it erratically. 

“Oi, this was new!” Merlin snapped, eyeing the tear with a miffed expression. “Watch what you’re doing with that thing.” 

In the probable best interests of everyone in the room Arthur chose that moment to enter the hall. His gaze quickly took in the scene in front of him, missing nothing but at the same time giving nothing away. 

He moved to Merlin’s side, casually propping an elbow on the back of his chair. “Everything in one piece?”

“Not my jacket,” comes the sour reply.

Leaning forward Arthur made as if studying the short, neat slice in the soft fabric, although it was clear he had one eye on the sword his knight was oh so subtly attempting to slip back into its sheath unnoticed. 

“These things can be fixed Merlin,” he said finally, giving Merlin a soothing pat on the shoulder. “Your clothes splitting at the seams is one thing, you doing the same is another. Now then Sir Lucian, if you’re through making modifications to my servant’s wardrobe perhaps we can begin our discussion?”

Taking his seat at the round table and ignoring Merlin’s mutters on which of them was more likely to be splitting their seams, Arthur prayed that torn jackets would be the least of their concerns once the knowledge of his plans for magic went public.

“Merlin we need you over here.” 

Tossing aside the knife he was sharpening the warlock grabbed his medical bag and rushed across the training ground. Dropping to his knees next to the knight withering on the ground he reached out a hand.

“I don’t want any magic,” the injured man half yelped.

“That’s good,” Merlin huffed as he completed his examination. “‘Cause you won’t be getting any.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have a dislocated shoulder Sir Malory. That is hardly something that requires magic to fix.”

“Didn’t Gaius use magic to reset little Henry’s shoulder?” One of the other knight’s queried. 

“He had a fracture of the bone as well as a dislocation. If it didn’t heal right it would have affected the growth of his arm. Besides he’s seven years old and resetting joints is painful. He deserved to have the experience be as least traumatic as possible.”  

Merlin turned back to his patient. “Are you ready or do I need to count to three?”

“Can you count that high?”

“Let’s find out.” He braced the man’s shoulder. “One, two,” with a forceful tug he rotated the bone letting it fall into place with a sickening pop. 

Sir Malory let out a yell and bent in half taking several deep breaths. Forcefully collecting himself he raised his head to meet Merlin’s unblinking gaze. 

“Three.”

The sound of hastily choked off laughter rippled through the training grounds. Merlin paid it no mind as he carefully but firmly wrapped the newly corrected shoulder. Looping the cloth around and under the adjoining arm he then gestured to two nearby knights to help the injured man to his feet.

“Get him to Gaius,” he directed. “That arm needs to be fitted for a proper sling.”

“Sling?” A young man Merlin took to be the knight’s squire asked. 

“That’s right. Make sure he wears it every day for at least two weeks. Even in bed. And that he doesn’t move his arm any more than basic hygiene requires.” 

“You do realize I’m a knight?”

Glancing the knight’s direction Merlin’s face turned stern. “And if you want to remain one you’ll do as I say. Sir Leon?”

“Yes Merlin?”

“This man doesn’t get to hold a sword in his hand before summer. At the earliest.”

“SUMMER?!” 

“Noted. Don’t worry, we’ll see to it.” 

“I will not be told what to do by a servant and a sorcerer !”

“You’re not,” Sir Leon answered stepping eye to eye with the man. “You are being told what to do by the apprentice court physician and by your commanding officer. Who can easily see to it those orders are repeated to you by the chief court physician and the king. Are you really in need of such reiteration?”

Sir Malory glared harshly but bowed to the command of his senior and followed his escorts away.

“I don’t know what there is to be happy about. This makes two confrontations in as many days.” 

“I’m pleased Mer lin because despite the numerous ways those confrontations could have gone wrong, they didn’t. Leon says you handled them splendidly.”

“That’s mostly because I stayed quiet and let him deal with it.”

“You did far more than that. Come on now, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy having just a little authority over the others.” 

“Enjoyed having a sword at my throat? Oh yes it was brilliant.”  

The scowl Arthur earned courtesy of Guinevere reminded him to be a little more thorough in the details the next time he gave her an account of a meeting she missed. Eager to shift attention he tried to change the subject. 

“You know-” 

Merlin cut him off, seemingly reading his mind. “Don’t start. We are not arguing about promotions again.”

“If you’re worried about swords-”

“I’m not. Besides you’ve had swords pointed at you by people who should have respected your position plenty of times. And you were born with your title. I’m not going to be better off with one being randomly handed to me.” 

The king held up a pacifying hand. “I’m just saying if he viewed you as an equal-”

“They will see me as you see me. They will treat me as you treat me. You are their king. Plus I have magic. That’s an unknown, a factor of equality that most of them were never taught how to calculate and I can’t bring myself to blame them for that. 

“But-”

“Arthur. Think what me remaining as I am will mean to the people. You have a chance to show them what your beliefs in equality truly mean. That you are willing to listen to and learn from anyone, regardless of their position. That all men are equal in that they deserve the same level of respect, titled or not. Not that all men simply have an equal chance of getting promoted.” 

Arthur looked helplessly at his wife who shook her head in a firm ‘I’m not getting involved’ gesture. 

“What about the people with magic? Wouldn’t they want to see you in a position of authority?”

“No. Actually they’d take it worse than your council would.”

“Why is that?” Guinevere asked.

“How do you think the majority of magic users I’ve encountered over the years have viewed me? I’m the servant of a Pendragon. I’ve saved Arthur’s life multiple times, often at the expense of my own kind.”

Realization hit. “They think you’re a traitor. And if I were to make you part of my court…”

“I’d be even more so. The evil king’s slave, or at the very least puppet. It would be a gesture of surrender not alliance. My power surrendered into your possession. A power gained through the blood of my brothers and sisters.”

The queen wiped a tear off her cheek. “Surely not everyone would think that. Don’t the druids already see you as their leader?”

“Most of them. But you know how they are. Power and authority are practically meaningless to them. My being willing to continue to serve without recognition probably only increases their good opinion of me. And since a few of them know the extent of my powers as well as if not better than I do, they know that no one is capable of forcing me to be anything I am not willing to be. Whatever their personal feelings, they respect that it’s my life. They would never presume that they know what’s best for me and try to override my decisions.” He looked them both in the eye. “I am where I choose to be. That may change in the future. But if it does I will tell you, not the other way around. Now I would greatly appreciate it if we could let this topic drop. Permanently.” 

“That could have gone better.”

Gwen let out a small sigh. “It could have gone far worse as well.” 

“I wish he wasn’t so afraid.”

That pulled a sour laugh from the queen. “Believe me, fear has little to do with his opinion.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed at her.

“Never mind.”

“Guinevere…”

“It’s nothing.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He didn’t say anything to me. ” She snapped back then sighed again. “I overheard Gwaine talking to Percival the other day. He said he’d been trying to convince Merlin to accept a promotion and Merlin got angry and told him to leave it alone. Gwaine then tried to justify himself by saying he was only trying to get Merlin what he deserved.” 

“And?”

For a moment intense guilt closed off her throat. Swallowing hard she forced the words out. “Merlin said ‘You’ve had five years to speak up for me, and get me what I deserve. Don’t start pretending to be my advocate now.’” 

Arthur gathered her in his arms. “I’m sure he felt horrible afterwards.”

“Oh yes, Gwaine said he apologized almost right away, but that doesn’t make it any less true. For any of us. I’m no fool Arthur, I know how much work he put in to get us together. He saw to it I became queen and what did I do for him? Nothing that’s what. You aren’t the only one feeling guilty.”

“You shouldn’t be. You could have offered him the world back then, he wouldn’t have taken it. I doubt he even wanted it.”   

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “If that’s true then what makes you so certain he wants it now? We have to follow his lead on this Arthur.”

Her husband caught his tongue between his teeth but didn’t argue. “How do you think we should deal with the knights attitude?” he asked finally.

“As much as it hurts to say so, I think we should leave that be too. Remember what he said, they will follow your lead. It’s been trained into them from the beginning. If you continue to treat him with respect and back him up when he overrules something they try they’ll get the message. He’s right in that people chafe under new authority regardless of who carries it. Merlin’s the most humble person we know, he’ll only speak up if it’s necessary. The knights will see that soon enough. It comes back to being patient. ” 

“I’m not good with that,” Arthur said with a pout that had her fighting off a laugh.

“Not always. But you can be when it’s worth it. How long did you wait to be able to marry me after all?”

“Guinevere if you are in any way comparing my feelings for you to Merlin’s situation-”

“Arthur.”

He swallowed hard. “Yes dear?”

“Shut up.” 

Chapter Text

The sound of a throat clearing behind you when you’re in the middle of something you know you probably shouldn’t be doing was, to Merlin’s mind, one of the most frightening sounds known to man. That said he couldn’t deny feeling the tiniest bit of pleasure being the one doing the throat clearing this time around. 

The intruder in his room dropped the paper he held and turned quickly to face him. 

“Can I help you?”

The young man, the same one from the training field he recognized, shuffled his feet. “I...I came to ask if you had something my… something Sir Malory could take for pain. His shoulder is really bothering him.”

“I see.”

“He deserves the help! He’s not a bad man really, despite his attitude about magic. He’s done a lot for me.”

“I know.”

The boy’s expression turned from fearful to confused. “You do?”

Allowing a half smile Merlin asked, “How old are you, sixteen?

“What? Um, seventeen actually. Just turned.” 

“I’ve been in the king’s service for most of your life. I know which of his knights are worth keeping around.” 

Turning to Gaius shelves he selected two vials. Handing the larger one to the squire he explained. “This is an infusion of willow bark, each dose will last him four to six hours. Make sure he doesn’t have more than six doses in a day.”

“And the other one?”

“Poppy extract. It’s extremely potent and potentially addictive. No more than five drops, heavily diluted, at bedtime, and only if he’s gone more than two nights without any rest. Do you understand? I’ll ask Gaius to come teach you the best way to secure his arm so it’s less painful to sleep with.”  

“Thank you!” The young man grinned in relief and reached for the vial. He frowned worriedly when Merlin pulled it out of reach.

“Accalon.” Hazel eyes widened in surprise at the use of his name and Merlin smiled reassuringly. “I’m going to give it to you but you’ll have to answer me something. Can you do that?”

He got a timid nod in reply.

“Who’s idea was it to come here, yours or his?”

“Um, sort of both. He mentioned he’d used up everything he’d been given the other day and...he’s difficult when he’s in pain.”

Merlin gave him a Gaius eyebrow. “Did he tell you to snoop through my things while you were at it?”

“N...No. I was hoping… if you can really use magic... I was hoping you’d have something scribbled down somewhere that I could find, something to make him heal faster. I need him to get better, we need the money.” He added almost pleadingly. 

Merlin frowned. “Arthur pays his knights the same, injured or not.”

“Yes but he’s been training me in more than just fighting. He has metalworking skills, much better than my father’s were. If I can learn enough of them I’ll have something to support myself with even if I don’t become a knight someday. But if he can’t use his arm, there are too many limits on what he can show me.”

“I understand Accalon, really I do. But he’s already made it clear he doesn’t want either Gaius or I to do any magical healing on him.”

“Yes but if I did it he’d never know.”

Merlin blinked at him for several moments while his mind processed those words. 

“First of all,” he finally said, “injuries like his have very, and I mean very, little leeway in their healing time so if you used magic on it he would absolutely notice. And second, you can use magic?” Anyone else would wonder about the order of those questions but he couldn’t be bothered. 

The kid’s face turned a patchwork of dead white and deep crimson. “Maybe? I always heal fast myself and...something about the fire and the elements with the metal..it’s like it’s an extension of who I am. Everything Sir Malory throws at me, I understand it. Even if I’d never heard it before in my life. I’m surprised he hasn’t figured out something’s off by now. That has to be magic right?”

“It doesn’t have to be...” 

“But you can help me find out if it is. And teach me to help injured people with it?” 

Merlin chewed his lip, considering his options. Did he want to help this boy discover the extent - if any - of his power? Of course. He’d been offered this chance before and been too frightened or too prejudiced, to take it. But there was more involved here. Accalon was a squire which meant his responsibilities were almost as extensive as a servant’s, and his overseer wasn’t fond (to say the least) of magic. He was asking to learn to heal which was within the scope of the law and not technically something that could be objected to but still…

“Please Merlin.”

The warlock sighed. “I can promise nothing right now but I will speak to the king.”

Accalon’s grin told him the outcome was a forgone conclusion.

It turned out he wasn’t wrong. 

Arthur had been hesitant at first, but after a frank talk with his knight (which he told Merlin nothing of) and with the squire (of which he told little more) Accalon was given permission to join him for a study of healing magic, after he’d completed all his other duties. That really only amounted to about an hour a week but both young men were determined to make the best of it.  

“Can I ask you a question?” Accalon offered towards the end of his third visit. 

Merlin nodded, trying his best to keep a smile off his face. The squire was right about being a fast learner. They hadn’t gotten much further than the basics of magic’s effect on the body, the point where Gaius had insisted they start, but he’d absorbed it all without hesitation. Though it was clear he was more used to being told what was what than he was investigating for himself. 

“If you really have the powerful magic some people say you do, what’s the use of sleeping with a knife under your pillow?”

“A knife?” 

“Yeah. A really nice one. Dark wood handle, silver engraving on the cover-”

Merlin nearly dropped his book. “That’s where I put it!”

Accalon looked at him strangely. “You put a knife under your pillow and then forgot about it?”

“Well,” Merlin shrugged and leaned forward confidentiality. “It was a gift that was given with the suggestion of keeping it close to hand in case I needed it.”

“And? Won’t the person who gave it to you be annoyed you didn’t remember where it was?”

Merlin’s mouth turned up in a conspicuous if sad smile. “When they gave it to me they were fully aware that I don’t actually need it, if you know what I mean.” 

“Oh.” Before he could form a better reply, the older man resumed his quizzing. 

“What would be your first priority if you came across an unconscious person who had dried blood on their forehead and whose temperature...”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Sir Malory jumped half a foot in the air, simultaneously losing his grip on his sword. It hit the stone floor with a clatter. Recovering his bearing as quickly as possible he answered gruffly, “Have you forgotten your basic forms already?”  

His squire and ward raised an eyebrow. “Not at all. I’ve also not forgotten that you’re not scheduled to resume practice for almost two months yet. Care to tell me why you are doing them now?”

“Don’t take that tone with me boy. I know what I’m capable of. What are you doing here anyway, isn’t it time for your sorcery lesson?” 

“When I got there Merlin was on his way out. Apparently Lady Shamber is giving birth and Gaius needed him to help out.”    

“With magic?”

“He didn’t say. Although he does have plenty of other skills.”

The knight ignored that last defense. “Her father would never condone magic.” 

“Perhaps, but it’s his daughter’s decision. She’s his only child and this is his first grandchild. If either of them were in danger he wouldn’t be so hard boiled. Having someone you love in need of magic would make anyone reevaluate their opinion.” 

“Not anyone.”

“So you’d let me die?” Accalon muttered.

“What?!”

“Nothing.” He sighed, noting the way his guardian was massaging the side of his neck. “You’re in pain, let me get the willow bark.” 

“It’s fine.” The older man pulled his hand away from the cabinet he was reaching for. 

“You’re right. I don’t know enough to make a proper diagnosis. We should go to Gaius instead.” Accalon yanked his hand free and opened the medicine cabinet. “I’ll just make sure we have enough- Where is the poppy extract?” He asked, turning to frown at his master who stammered a little. 

“I didn’t like how groggy it made me feel the last time you gave it to me so I returned what was left to Gaius. And it’s just an ache now more than anything. Run downstairs and fill me up a hot bath. That should be enough for now.”   

“You’ll need ice first, then heat.”

“Where are you going to get ice during a heatwave? Just the hot water will have to do.”

Knight and squire held a staring match for a moment or two before the latter conceded. He turned to carry out his orders but not before pointedly snatching up the sword with a vow that he’d personally smash it to pieces if his mentor didn’t see sense soon. 

“You caught him trying to practice again?”

“Yes! I can’t- I don’t-”

Merlin tried not to smile at the sight of the boy on the verge of literally ripping his ashy brown hair out of his head. He’d been in his position many times. “It’s only been twice.”

“That we know of! I’ve tried to talk to him, Sir Leon’s tried to talk to him. Gaius has spoken to him multiple times… I’m at my wits end. If he keeps this up I swear I’m going to use one of those sleeping draughts on him.”

“Every day for seven more weeks?” Merlin asked. 

“If I have to! Why he’s so obsessed with pushing his recovery-”  

The door to the physician’s quarters slammed open revealing a Gwaine who skidded to a stop with a panting breath.  

“Sir Gwaine?”

“What’s wrong?” Merlin hurried to his side but the knight waved him off. “I’m fine, it’s Sir Malory. One of the maids brought in his lunch and found him unconscious. She said he’s barely even breathing.” 

Only pausing long enough to snatch up the medical bag Merlin followed his friend back the way he came, Accalon hot on his heels. 

Reaching the bedside Merlin shooed away the frightened serving girl and snatched up one limp wrist. “His heart is very weak. Pale and fingertips are turning blue...” He leaned his face over the knight’s parted lips. “He’s barely getting any air, Gwaine help me sit him up.” 

That done, the warlock positioned his friend’s fist over his fellow knight’s upper body. “Press down on his sternum in a circular motion. Hard.”

“Won’t that hurt him?”

“That’s the idea, we need to wake him up.” Merlin turned to the young charge who was hovering anxiously behind him. “He’s showing all the signs of an overdose.”

“A what?”

“Taking too much of a drug. Where do you keep the poppy extract I gave you?” 

“In that cabinet but it’s not there now, he gave it back to Gaius. He said he didn’t like it.” 

“Merlin.” Gwaine gestured with his head to a wooden stopper peeking out from under Sir Malory’s blanket. A flip of the covers revealed a glass vial with a very distinctive label on it. 

“No. No… he promised he-  Why would he lie to me?”

Merlin grabbed Accalon’s shoulder, trying to calm him. “Think. How much was in there when you last saw it?”

“I don’t know...more than half? What difference does it make? We need to get it out of him, make him vomit or something.” 

“That’s the last thing you should do!” Gaius interrupted, hurrying into the room. “If the bile gets into his airway it could burn his lungs. You’d be creating an entirely new problem.” 

Merlin’s heart twinged in sympathy as the boy blanched. It was a potentially serious mistake but a perfectly logical one. The healing arts were more complicated than most people gave credit.  

“Poppy extract?” Gaius asked, nodding to the vial in his apprentice’s hand. 

“It was at least half full.”

“Did you try reviving him?”

“Charlotte spoke to him several times and Gwaine’s working on his chest. No response.” 

The physician closed his eyes in dismay. “Get him on his side. We’ll watch his breathing but there’s not much else we can do at this point.”

“What are you saying? We’re not just going to let him die! Merlin, do something!”

“Accalon you know what the agreement is if someone doesn’t want magic to heal them.”

“You don’t know that he doesn’t want it. No- you really don’t. Not in this specific instance. He’s unconscious, he can’t say yes or no.”

Merlin shot a helpless glance at his mentor who stayed studiously silent. 

“Kid’s got a point.” Gwaine spoke up when the pleading look was turned on him. “It’s your choice but a person can’t predetermine their mindset for a situation like this. We don’t know what he would want.”

“And seeing as that is the case, under the agreement you just referenced the choice falls to his family. I’m the closest thing he has to family, ask anyone. Therefore the choice is mine, and I say save his life!” 

Well after that there was nothing left to say.

Backing slowly into the room, Accalon carefully guided the door closed with his foot and crossed to Sir Malory’s desk, setting down a loaded breakfast tray. He’d begun straightening up when a quiet cough drew his attention.  

“You’re awake!” 

“Yes. I think for the first time in days I really am. What happ-” The knight broke off, shame filling his gaze as memory settled in fully. 

“Are you hungry?” Accalon asked, not looking at him.

“I... come here.” Reluctantly the boy did so, perching on the edge of the bed his mentor was lying in.

“I’m sorry. I should never have been so irresponsible.”

“No you shouldn’t. If you’d just been patient you would have healed and life would have gone back to how it had been.”

“Would it?”

Accalon rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going anywhere. I wanted to learn magic to help get you back on your feet. And maybe to help in the field someday. Something more of us need to do. The king is lucky Merlin insists on going everywhere with him. Regular patrols don’t have that. They don’t have a physician or even a medic. And even if they did, what happens if he gets killed?”

“What good does healing magic do if you don’t know how to fight?” 

“Hence the need-”

Malory held up a hand. “I understand your perspective.”

“But you don’t agree. Doesn’t matter. You didn’t agree with men who didn’t come from noble families being knights at first but then a year later you took me on as your squire. The son of a poor tool smith and a scullery maid.”

“Those men have proved their worth. As have you.”

“As has magic.”   

“I beg your pardon? Are you saying..? 

Accalon set his shoulders firmly. “I’m saying that you were too far gone for traditional methods to save you. You had one chance available and only one person who could make that chance succeed.” 

“Gaius chose to-”

“Not Gaius. Merlin did the healing. And the choice was mine. I don’t have any regrets for that choice either. Actually that’s not true, I have one regret. I regret that it wasn’t my magic that saved you, that I didn’t know enough to help you on my own and had to have someone else do it. But then I think, ‘where would you be if I hadn’t asked for help’ and that regret disappears.”

“You-”

“Magic may not be my passion or my life’s goal but it’s a part of me. One I am not ashamed of. You will not convince me I’m evil or my friends are evil for using the skills we have. If magic is evil then everyone who has ever loved someone is evil. Because that’s what magic does. It saves people we love from their own stupidity and shortsightedness! I asked you a question once, and I didn’t want an answer. I do now. If our roles had been reversed, if I was dying and magic was my only chance, what would you have done?”  

“I..” the knight swallowed hard. “I don’t know... I need to think.”

The young man’s face attempted to crumple but he wrestled it still just in time. “You do need to think,” he whispered, “long and hard.” He cleared his throat. “Rest. And eat if you can. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

“Accalon,” Malory tried.

The door slammed shut before the word was fully formed.

“I’ll expect detailed reports every other week.”

“It will be done Sire.”

“And make sure to have Accalon double check all figures.”

Sir Malory stiffened. “Do you doubt my ability to do calculations successfully My Lord?”

Arthur shook his head. “Not at all. But I want him to have a thorough understanding of just what it costs to run a garrison, especially one with a foundry. If he is ever to be in a leadership position he needs to start learning now.”  

“If that is to be the case he deserves a better teacher than I. If he had any living relatives I would not even be bringing him with me. A border guard assignment should be my punishment not his. I told him he has no obligation-”

“Did you miss the part where he said he loved you?” Arthur interrupted with a chuckle. “Because when he and Merlin told me the story he was quite plain about it.”

Malory sniffed. “That sorcerer has you going soft My Lord.”

Arthur’s gaze grew frosty. “Sir Malory you have deliberately disobeyed orders and therefore nearly cost this kingdom a protector, and the young man whose care you’ve been entrusted with his provider. Offences that could easily have cost you your knighthood. Do not test the limits of my leniency.” 

The knight bowed his head chastised. “Yes sire.” Feeling a hand press his unbound shoulder he glanced up to the king’s softened expression. “I wish he’d get angry at me. Then I could…”

“You could defend against it. Justify yourself. It’s easier to cope with anger than disappointment.”

Voices sounded some distance from them and the two men turned to see the squire in question shuffle down the courtyard stairs with the last of the necessities for the journey. “I shouldn’t complain. It’s been over a week and he’s been nothing but the picture of deference and consideration. I just never knew that could irritate me so much.”  

Arthur snorted as his gaze landed on the black haired servant in very distinctive attire who was helping the young man with his load. “I know the feeling. All I can say is give it time. Our first experience with the knowledge our heroes are only imperfect men is always difficult. The more it happens, the better he will cope. And as long as you allow him to see your weaknesses and how hard you work to combat them, you’ll never lose his respect. In fact it might just grow.”

The look on Malory’s face convinced Arthur if he continued the conversation any longer the man might just start to cry. Not by any means comfortable with that idea he wished the knight well, repeated one or two last instructions, and hurried on his way.

Across the yard an equally emotional conversation was being carried out.

“The camp’s not that far from the foundry, they can help you keep up your studies while you work. With Sir Malory’s permission of course.” 

“I’m going to them with or without his permission.”

“I know it’s hard, but you need to forgive him. I hate to bring this up but we both know the pain of losing a father to circumstances beyond our control. Don’t make the choice to lose another.”

Accalon sighed but nodded. “I won’t, I promise.” He took the bag Merlin handed him with a heavy heart, shuffling his feet momentarily before rushing forward and hugging his friend tightly. “I’ll miss you.” 

Merlin hugged back just as strong. “I’ll miss you too. And as much as I believe you’re doing the right thing by sticking with him, just remember, He knows you’re gaining confidence in your abilities now, and that you’ll use them openly the minute it’s safe. That’s something that is going to take him time to get used to. Don’t expect him to always make life easy for you.”

“From what I’ve heard the king hasn’t always made life easy for you. That hasn’t changed your loyalty, why should it change mine?”

The warlock laughed. “I will neither confirm or deny that. Here, I have something for you.” He reached into his jacket and handed over a slim object.

“What? No, you said this was a gift. I can’t-”

“It’s alright.” Merlin stared at the delicate blade, momentarily lost in memories of the precious friendship it represented. “I told you the giver knew I had a better way of protecting myself. It won’t be long before I can drop the pretense having a weapon like this puts up. He would want nothing more.” 

“But-”

“Besides, if you feel that strongly about it, I’ve no doubt you can make me a better one.”  

Accalon straightened, a gleam brightening his green-gold eyes. “I will. I’ll make you proud.”

Merlin smiled softly and hugged him again. “You already have. And for what it’s worth, I believe your parents would be too.”

“It’s worth more than you know. And yours would be just as proud.”

A chuckle escaped the warlock. “You don’t even know who my parents are.”

The other tilted his head to the side, a wise little smile on his lips. “I don’t need to. Goodbye Merlin.” 

“No. There are no endings in magic. Only new beginnings. We’ll see each other again.”

Accalon nodded, accepting one last lesson. “Until next time then.”

“Oi Princess I can almost see the smoke coming out of your ears. You going to share what you’re thinking or are we going to be picking pieces of your exploded head out of the wall?”

Arthur frowned, his eyes sweeping across the armory taking in each of his closest knights. They blinked back at him patiently, waiting for him to speak. He opened and closed his mouth once or twice as he fought to steady his breathing. Why this question should frighten him so much he couldn’t say. Eventually, as if by a will greater than his own, it forced its way out. 

“Do any of you know who Merlin’s father was?”

Chapter Text

“-we both know the pain of losing a father to circumstances beyond our control.”

It was just a fragment of a sentence but sometimes that’s all it took to spark a wildfire of deductions and realizations. With a copious amount of rash decisions behind him though, Arthur needed to be sure. 

“He’s never mentioned him to me,” Leon replied after a moment’s thought. Percival merely shook his head.  

Gwaine shifted uncomfortably when Arthur turned to look at him. “I don’t know his name, or much about him at all really. What I do know I’m not sure I should say.”

“Why not?”

“Because what Merlin told me he told me privately and I respect privacy.”

“Since when?”

The knight gave him a disappointed look. “Since I am trying to be a better friend.”

“So am I,” Arthur finally replied after several minutes of awkward silence and a lot of throat clearing. A few more followed as Gwaine’s jaw worked, clenching and unclenching as he tried to make up his mind. 

“Fine. I’ll tell you under one condition. You bury all hurt feelings or justifications and accept what I tell you as the truth even though it’s not what you’re going to want to believe. Because if you confront Merlin about this, and then try to make it about you, then you can kiss goodbye any chance of him trusting you with his past again. Particularly the painful parts.”

“I promise.”

Gwaine stared at him a moment longer, and Arthur fought against the feeling of being judged. At last he nodded. 

“Once upon a time Merlin’s father was in a king’s service. He never said which one but I’d bet my next five years pay it was Uther. That king repaid his service with betrayal. How it was justified, and how Hunith fits into the story I don’t know. I do know his father was banished, and on the run, and only met his son for the first time right before he died. Which means Merlin only met him for the first time right before he died.”

Another silence followed, this one full of lingering sadness for their friend’s loss. 

“When did he die?” Percival asked quietly.

“About a year before I met Princess the first time.”

That cinched it. The betrayal detail was new (although it would account for the man’s bitterness) but there was only one man who fitted the criteria they’d been discussing. A man who’d bled out in his son’s arms mere hours after learning he was a father. 

Arthur sat down hard as if he’d just received his own blow to the gut. The hints had been piling up for weeks, as far back as his conversation with Freya in Avalon.'He did not turn on you when you dismissed his father’s death as nothing,' she had said. For that was exactly what he had done. He hadn’t known the truth of course, but that didn’t make it easier to handle. 

All these years the king had blamed himself for his father’s death. That if he hadn’t been so weak or in need Uther would never have taken that blade for him. And all these years he’d despaired ever finding someone who’d truly understood the pain and guilt that knowledge caused, only to discover he’d had one beside him all along.  

A sharp pain flared across the back of his head. 

“Oi, what did I say about feeling sorry for yourself.” 

Arthur glared at his knight, and the black glove hanging from said knight’s hand but received no vindication for his anger. In fact it seemed the others were firmly on Gwaine’s side of the argument. 

“I gather this means you know who he’s talking about?” Leon questioned. 

“Yes.”

“What are we doing about it?”

“Gwaine, it was... what eight, nine years ago now? What can we do?” 

“That’s for Merlin to say,” Arthur intervened before an argument sparked. “I’ll let you know what he decides.” 

“What now? How are you going to get him to talk? You know, without receiving a complete set of bodily injuries.”

“Well for starters it’s getting late so I will wait until tomorrow. I know just what I’m doing, no injuries will be involved.”

“Let’s hope so.”

You’ve no idea...

“You’re giving me a bag full of gold why?”

“It’s for your mother. Something tells me she’d accept it better coming from you.”

“You’re giving my mother a bag full of gold why?”

“There’s nothing sinister or untoward about it I promise. It’s merely a duty I pride myself on carrying out. Granted I’m almost a decade late in this case, but I’m following through nonetheless. It’s really owed to both of you but I know you’d never accept anything of the kind from me but your mother...well she probably wouldn’t either but I’m counting on you to change that.”

“How?”

“By explaining that when someone dies in service to my kingdom, despite having been shunned and persecuted by said kingdom it’s only right that their family be provided for. And despite knowing first hand that nothing, least of all money, can fill the void the loss of a spouse or parent leaves in your heart, knowing finances are accounted for can mean one less thing to worry over. As for what else we can do for you, I’ll let you talk to her and get back to me.” 

Arthur really wasn’t expecting gratitude, or a smile, and if anger or despair had been Merlin’s reaction that wouldn’t have been a great surprise. But the heavy silence that dragged on brought him nothing but sweaty palms and the cold realization that for all the heart on his sleeve moment’s he’d born witness to over the years, his warlock friend could lock away all signs of how he was feeling better than any noble Arthur had ever met.

“Why now?” 

Arthur considered his answer carefully. “Because you wouldn’t have brought the identity of your father to my attention if you didn’t know deep down it was a wrong that needed correction. The same as you did when your mother came seeking aid all those years ago. The way you looked at me when my father turned her down, as if you knew somehow I’d make it right. Maybe it wasn’t intentional, and I certainly didn’t have any conscious plan to run off in the middle of the night to come help, but you’ve always had more faith in me than I’ve had in myself. From the minute you brought up the subject of dragonlords you knew I would ask questions, and you knew if I put in enough effort I would, someday, figure it out. What you didn’t know for sure was what I’d do. You may believe I’m a great king but every once in a while you need me to prove it. I don’t blame you for that. What I’m trying to show, through this paltry gesture, is that I will always rise to your challenge, and if God forbid you are ever in a position that you can’t take care of the people you love then you can be assured they are safe with me.”

This time it was obvious even to one such as Arthur that Merlin’s lack of emotional expression was caused by him simply not knowing what emotion he was attempting to feel. 

“She’s not a citizen of your kingdom,” he finally said. “I don’t know if my father was a citizen of your kingdom and in all honesty I’m not even sure I am a citizen of your kingdom. Kingly duty is non-existent.”

Refusing to be shaken the king stepped forward and grasped his friend’s shoulders. “Then let me provide for my friend. And for the only person who has ever, for even one brief moment of my entire existence, made me not aware of my mother’s absence. Has anyone ever done that for you with your father?” 

“Gaius,” was the immediate answer.

“How would you feel if I told you you weren’t allowed to do anything to help take care of him?”

Merlin’s scowl was something nightmares were made of but when he took the gold without incinerating anything Arthur let out a breath of relief.

“Thank you.”

“No need.”

Merlin pulled away, eyeing him pensively. “You know, I can’t just walk in, hand her some money and say Arthur wants us to have this because he feels bad over my father’s death. She’ll want this to have a purpose.”

“Tell her it’s past time something was done in his honor. Now she has the funds to make an appropriate memorial for him, in Ealdor or anywhere else she chooses. Was Balinor from Camelot originally? Did he have other family?”

“You’re asking the wrong person.”

“I’m sorry. All I know is a shallow gully in the middle of an enemy forest is hardly a proper burial. He deserved more.”

“You don’t say.” 

“I just want-” 

“As it happens Kilgharrah’s already gave him a better one. He burned out a space in the cave we found my father in. He’s entombed there. I took Mother to visit once. She’s said her goodbyes.”  

“Were you able to recover anything from his home?”

“No. I didn’t even try. Just closed off the whole place.”

“Why not?”

Merlin arched an eyebrow at him. “Would you want to have to go through your mother’s chambers? Be surrounded by her things and wonder what each of them meant to her? How long they’d been there. How often she used them. Which ones were something she loved and which had she just acquired out of necessity. And then to know that there was no one alive who could tell you.”

“Surely there must be someone. Gaius, your mother-” He cut off seeing Merlin’s head shake. 

“Gaius' path crossed my father’s exactly three times before he helped him escape. They knew each other more by reputation than by actual interacting. And my mother..” He sighed, blinking quickly to fight his blurry vision. “A wound can heal and still leave a painful scar behind. She’s faced enough hurtful things in her life, and she’s been honest about them all. My father was always the one thing she could never talk about. It wouldn’t be fair to make her now. No, my father...my father’s a mystery. And he might always be. That doesn’t change the fact that the dragon race is my responsibility.”

Arthur knew a deviation of subject when he heard one. Still he fell in step. “Any results on the hunt for the little one?” Little being a relative term of course.  

“Kilgharrah says he’s not far, less than half a day’s ride away. I was planning on leaving before daybreak tomorrow, get to his cave soon after he wakes. If it’s broad daylight there’ll be fewer places for him to hide. He’ll be less likely to try to run from me.”

“I want to meet him.”

Merlin nodded. “Soon, but I don’t want to push anything. I need him to trust me first. Given our bond he won’t consider me an automatic enemy, but you can be sure Morgana poisoned him against both Camelot and the name Pendragon. If he sees you or the knights before I’ve gotten through to him I can’t imagine anything good coming from it.”

All perfectly logical statements the king had to admit. Still he felt inclined to argue. “Two days. Then I’m coming to find you.”

The silence that followed told him all he needed to know about what his friend thought of that.  

“It’s perfectly fair.” 

More silence.

“Alright fine! What do you suggest?”

“I am going to find him and see what we can get worked out. When I feel the time is right I will bring up introducing you. If he pushes back at me over it then I’ll drop the subject until he’s more comfortable. If not, then I’ll come get you and take you to him. Just you. Then a few of the knights, no more than two or three at a time, until he understands none of you will harm him.”

Arthur sighed. “I don’t like it.”

“I’m not asking you to like it, I’m asking you to trust me. I don’t have the lifetime of training I should have when it comes to caring for a creature of magic. In all fairness I shouldn’t even be a Dragonlord yet. I could be dealing with the complications of that for a long time. That’s not going to be made easier by you insisting on doing things your way.” 

Try to be a better friend.

“I do trust you. But how many times have you told me there are better ways to prove that I’m strong enough for something than by insisting I do it alone?”

Merlin smiled faintly. “I have no intention of doing all of it alone. But I don’t tell you every step of how to run your kingdom,” Arthur’s snort was duly ignored, “so let me at least pretend I know what I’m doing for a little while. Hm?”

“Alright. But I’m here. For...you know.”

“I know.” 

This is a disaster waiting to happen.

Aithusa’s hiding place of choice, Merlin had discovered, was one such as would be easily accessible to a dragon. However to a human or any other creature lacking anything in the way of wings things would be a bit trickier. He didn’t know if he should be pleased or concerned with how closely the little one had followed his orders to stay safe and out of sight. 

Hitching his pack up onto his shoulder he tied his mount by a patch of soft grass and crossed the clearing to the base of the cliff face. Letting his Sight take over he finally found an almost imperceptible trail winding up it. Less than a third of the way from the top the first cries reached his ears.     

They grew in intensity the faster he moved up the path. By the time he was parallel to the opening, and eyeing the gap where the path had crumbled away distastefully, his heart was weeping in shared pain with his charge. Moments later Aithusa heard the sound of his approach and fell silent, peeking cautiously at him. 

If Merlin thought the first time he’s laid eyes on the young dragon was difficult, this time was infinitely worse. Loss and a stress enforced isolation had resulted in a further weakening of the Aithusa’s debilitated form. 

“Can I come to you?” he asked. Aithusa blinked at him sorrowfully and let out another, much quieter cry.  

“It’s all right now.” Merlin murmured, swallowing his own tears and slipping into the voice he used to soothe spooked horses. “We’ll do this one step at a time.”Literally. “I’ll start, see.” 

Casting a silent spell to shift a collection of branches and loose stone into a makeshift bridge across the gap Merlin scooted his way inch by inch along the edge of the open air, pausing every now and then to reinforce the structure. Keeping one eye on the dragon, who remained in the shadow of his cave, he bent his knees and jumped the last few inches onto the outcropping above. 

“There,” he breathed. “Nothing to it. Now then, will you let me see you? Please.”

A mournful whimper escaping him  Aithusa nonetheless crept forward a few steps, clearly favoring his left front paw. Halfway across the distance he stopped moving, pain and misery reflected in his dark blue eyes. He startled but didn’t retreat when Merlin ran to his side, taking hold of the injured limb with the utmost tenderness.  

All three claws were broken, their stubbed tips turning black along with the surrounding skin. Merlin ran a finger lightly over the top of the foot, jerking it away when the action pulled an agonized shriek from the dragon’s throat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry no, no. Shh,” his own voice choked the dragonlord managed to get an arm around the frightened creature, calming it. “Shh, that’s it, that’s all right.” Pulling back he blinked hard to clear his vision and looked Aithusa in the eye. “I can heal it, if you’ll let me. It’s up to you.”  

A nod and another whimper was all the permission he needed. Settling cross-legged on the ground with the dragon’s leg resting on his lap Merlin closed his eyes, centering himself, and called to both his knowledge of the healing arts and that tiny bit of his father’s spirit he’d tucked deep inside of him. 

Silent moments ticked by when at last the needed magic came to him. Harnessing it he took a deep breath and let it flow outward in one focused stream. The energy fed eagerly into his companion’s body to an exhilarating degree. Bones straightening, muscle tissue separating and reconnecting, Merlin marveled at every shift and nuance of it all.   

An astonished cry abruptly broke his concentration, the magic snapping back to its owner. Looking up worriedly he found Aithusa taken aback not by alarm but by delight. He followed the dragon’s gaze down to his formally mutilated limb and let out his own gasp of wonderment. 

The talons had regrown completely, the scales around them scrubbed clean to the newborn white Merlin’s distant memory pictured them as. Not only that but Aithusa’s whole forearm was re-formed, thick and straight, the joint rotating cleanly. Without a good hard look it was impossible to tell it had ever been harmed. 

“Look at you! Aithusa I...this will work. I can do this, I can heal you.” If the words came out in any cohesive language underneath all his laughter and tears Merlin would never know. What he did know was Aithusa gave him the first smile he could remember seeing since his hatching, and that if his dragon kin didn’t move quickly the warlock was going to have a massive headache when he woke up from the blackout currently overtaking him.

He awakened to the fading evening light and nuzzle of a worried dragon in his side. 

“Em...em-rys?”

“It’s Merlin.” His half fuzzy mind prompted him to correct.

“Mer-lin?”

Yawning, Merlin pulled himself to a sitting position. Aithusa mirrored the action and blinked at him patiently until at last it dawned on the dragonlord just what had occurred between them. 

“You can talk!”

“Talk?”

“In my mind I can hear you speak. Have...have you always been able to do that?”

Aithusa gave a negative head shake. 

“I dream. I remember old one’s words coming to me that way. He tells me to call out. That you’ll hear.”  

“But you've never tried it before?”

"Scared.” 

“Oh.” 

“Hurt?”

“I know. I’m sorry I can’t do more yet.”

“No. You hurt?”

Merlin smiled at the innocent worry. “No. I’m just a bit worn out. It’s been a little while since I expended that much energy all in one go.” 

“Regret?”

“Never!” He took the dragon’s face between his hands. “I will never regret anything when it comes to making you better. In fact this is just the beginning. I’m going to get you back to how you should be, I promise. The only question is how to go about it. 

“My working to heal you bit by bit is something I’m perfectly willing to do. The only problem is the time it’ll take to research some things. I can’t just channel my magic into you like I did earlier and hope to get it right. For both our sakes I need to be sure I’m healing you properly. Or there are places like the Cauldron of Arianrhod. You could be healed all at once but it’d be a gamble that the waters would work. And it would mean travel.” 

The dragon’s expression was torn and Merlin hastened to take the pressure off him. “You don’t have to answer now. I’ll do something to ease your overall pain and I’ll be back in three days. Think about it and tell me when I return. Deal?”

Aithusa’s eyes widened in alarm. “Don’t go!” He mewled, pushing his head into Merlin’s stomach.”

“Aithusa I...alright I’ll stay tonight. But I do have to go in the morning. And remember I’ll be back in three days.” 

"Two!”

Merlin sighed but couldn’t help the thrill Aithusa’s words sent through him. The little dragon wanted him to stay, wanted him near. Had it always been like this? If he’d tried before would he have been able to- No. He forced the thought aside. He was here now and Aithusa was accepting him. He’d cleared the first hurdle, now he had to make sure he didn’t have to break down any of his own construction. 

“Fine,” he said, “have it your way.”

Aithusa gave an elated chirp and curled himself around his dragonlord, his healed paw laying prominently and possessively across Merlin’s stomach. They dozed off together to the sound of the forest's creatures happy trilling. 

Chapter Text

“Are we sure this is a good idea?

“Well it’s Arthur’s so-

“Yes.”

-no. Ow!”

“Er, your kingship?”

“What is it Sir Gwaine?”

“Do you have any idea how far away a dragon can see?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.” The knight grinned. “Perhaps it would be wise to keep your hands off the dragonlord until we do. Hmm?”

“Merlin tell Gwaine the dragon won’t eat me if I hit you.”

“The dragon won’t eat you if you hit me.”

“See?”

“There’s no ‘see’ about it Prat, dragons simply don’t eat humans.” 

“Ha.”

“Gwaine I swear-”

“Shush. Both of you.” 

“Merlin,” Leon intervened quietly, “do you think it's a good idea for all of us to be here.”

“No not really but Aithusa wants more visitors, he’s used to having someone around all the time. I think he’s getting lonely.” 

“He’ll be free to roam soon, I promise.”

It was all Merlin could do not to sigh. Asking the people of Camelot to accept magic that they could easily see the benefit of was one thing. But to see dragons as allies was forgein to all but the oldest residents. It would take more than a few healed bones or rebuilt roofs to make a safe world for Aithusa and any who might follow after him. 

Pushing that thought aside he signaled his kin with his mind, letting the dragon know of their approach. The burst of joy that returned along the link lightened his heart considerably. 

They arrived at the base of the cliff to see a white head peering at them from his overlook. Gwaine threw a salute the dragon’s way and the others waved. 

“Come Aithusa.”

“Four of your friends came?”

"Yeah. They all wanted to see you again and you said you wanted more company. If it gets to be too much the two of us can go to your cave for a little while and they’ll stay down here. Now come, Leon brought chickens.” 

His wings were still too damaged to allow the young dragon to glide down cleanly, but keeping them tucked proved to be no hindrance as he bounded from rock to treetop with a cat-like agility, showing off the powerful muscle in his back and legs. 

“Where is the queen friend?” He asked once landing on the ground next to his lord. 

“Gwen’s sorry she couldn’t make it. Her head is hurting too bad for her to leave her room today. She said to tell you she misses you and she’ll come visit as soon as she can. Now do you want to exercise first or-” 

“Chicken first.”

“Or eating it is.”

Aithusa quickly commandeered the bag in the First Knight’s hands and tested his newly sharpened talons by ripping it to shreds. His next half hour was spent happily setting fire to the plucked but uncooked carcasses and then, after a critical inspection and a bit of picking at, thoroughly devouring them.

The humans in the party watched him with a mix of fascination and unease.

“Hey Merlin?” Gwaine asked later as Aithusa gnawed on a thigh bone that had escaped the great poultry rampage. “Did we bring enough for him to eat? ‘Cause he went through that awful fast.”

Merlin chuckled. “He’s fine. That was showing off more than anything. Dragons only actually need food for survival during their first year. After that it’s helpful for healing and regulating body temperature in hostile climates and so forth, but he won’t die without it. For now he likes eating and according to the one book I was able to find, digesting bones will help build up his teeth and will help him regrow his scales faster.” 

Arthur looked up then. “Regrow? Does he shed like a snake?” 

“Not quite, I don’t think. The book seemed to imply it won’t happen all at once...right?” Aithusa shook his head in agreement. “It’ll be more in patches based on which part of him is growing at the moment.” 

"It’s also going to itch.” 

“Itching won’t kill you.”

The dragon snorted.

“What was that?”

“He said shedding his scales is going to itch.”

“Ah don’t you worry there mate. When you get that way you just come see your favorite knight. I’ll give you all the scratches you need.”

“Hey now Gwaine,” Leon’s face twisted in offence. “I’m the one who convinced the cook to give us the chicken, and who lugged it all the way here. If anyone gets to be the favorite it’s me!”  

“No no, I’m the one who…”

“Merlin,” Arthur hissed, “We’ve heard this all before. Any chance Aithusa can settle it before they carry on all night?!”

Aithusa, having a dragon’s elevated sense of hearing and for once feeling amiable to one of Arthur’s requests, pushed himself carefully to his feet and marched deliberately over to Percival, placing his head in the big knight’s lap. The gesture silenced all arguments.

“Not that I mind in the least,” Percival finally commented, “but why me?”

The dragon blinked at him and let out a series of low chirps, followed by a hiss sent pointedly in the direction of the squabbling knights. Merlin choked back a laugh and the others frowned. 

“Could you do me a favor and translate that?” Percival asked, absently scratching Aithusa behind the ear, to the dragon’s obvious delight.

“He said he likes you best because you respect quiet. Unlike certain others who prefer blabbering on like a pair of crickets in heat.”

Twin groans sounded from Leon and Gwaine while the others burst out laughing.

“It’s early yet but the preliminary accounts say this year’s harvest is on track to be the best Camelot has seen since before the purge. We have petitions from at least seven other farms for the druid’s help with their land as well.” 

“How did the council take all this?”

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “You’d know that already if you’d followed my order to be there for the meeting in the first place.”

“I overslept.”

“For the fourth time this month.”

“I can read Arthur. And if it’s a choice between spending time with Aithusa and listening to Lord Oddburp, I’ll pick Aithusa every time.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Calling him names isn’t going to make him less irritating. And if I end up using any of your more creative monikers during council be prepared to get reacquainted with your old friend the stocks.”

“Hm good luck with that.” 

“You’re rather peevish today.”

“I’ve had less than eight hours of sleep the last three nights.”

“Well that’s not always-”

“Combined.”

"Oh.” The king sat back studying the dark circles under his friend’s eyes. “Any particular reason?”

“Aithusa has nightmares. Not magical like Morgana’s were just the ordinary kind. But they're bad enough to wake us both up multiple times a night." Merlin rubbed his forehead. "His body might be well on its way to healing but I’ve no idea how long his mind will take to catch up. Kilgharrah says he may never be quite the same as he should be.”  

“None of us will. But you obviously mean a great deal to him, and he knows you’ll never leave him truly alone. That’s an advantage.” 

“I know. I just wish I could do more. We’ve talked about it and he understands why I can’t be with him every day but all the traveling…” He sat up suddenly. “I need to learn a teleportation spell. That way I can pop back and forth and not waste so many hours. Why didn’t I think of that sooner? I need to go study.” 

“Merlin, the reports!”

“I’ll read them later!” He was gone before Arthur could leave his chair.

Slamming open the door to the king’s chambers was probably a crime worthy of at least one night in the dungeons, more if it was unexpected. Merlin couldn’t care less. It’s not like he’d never done it before and this time it was more than deserved. “You better have a good explanation for what you’ve done.”

Arthur looked up from his desk, his most pratish smirk on full display. “I do, however I should think even an idiot like you would be able to figure it out.”

Merlin marched the length of the room and bent over him threateningly. “Order a sleeping potion in my drink again and I’ll show you just what exactly I’m capable of figuring out. I can tell you right now you won’t like it.”

The king’s eye looked over him critically then met his own. “I can tell you that whatever you may think you can pull on me won’t even begin to give you the satisfaction I am currently experiencing from seeing you no longer looking like a dead man walking. Honestly Merlin you know to the outside world you’re still my servant right? What kind of impression is it going to make to the people if you keep walking around looking like you could collapse at any given moment?”

“I see. So you drug me for the sake of your reputation, not mine.”

"Naturally. And if you keep pushing yourself I have no qualms about doing it again.”

The warlock sat in a huff and picked a leftover roll off the plate opposite him. Arthur frowned but didn’t chastise him for it. “How’s your work on learning the tele-whatever going?”

The bread he was chewing abruptly lost its flavor. Tossing it away Merlin got to his feet, pacing restlessly. “Two weeks and I’ve gotten absolutely nowhere. I know it’s possible, I’ve seen sorcerers do it. I have to do something. The more Aithusa heals the more unsettled he gets. Loneliness is a powerful force and I’m discovering he’s still a little too young for me to be sure my commands to stay put will hold indefinitely. What if he decides to come find me instead of me going to him?”

Arthur’s expression took on the neutral form it did whenever he had a potentially controversial idea. He opened and closed his mouth once or twice. “We need some other options.”

“Which would be..?”

“Come have dinner with Guinevere and I tonight. Bring Gaius. I have a few ideas but it’ll be up to you which ones we implement.” 

A sinking motion hit Merlin’s stomach, a mix of anxiety and anticipation as he gained an inkling of what his king meant. He brushed it aside as quickly as he could. “You have training in the morning, I’m going to go work on your armor.”

Arthur’s words paused him at the door. “Do it in here.”

“Why?”

“It took rather a beating the last round, might take a special effort to get it all straight again.” He raised a conspiring eyebrow which Merlin thought rather unnecessary. He was plenty good at reading between the lines even with statements as ambiguous as Arthur’s. He could have challenged him on it but simply nodded instead. 

“Be back in a few minutes.”

“Merlin! It’s about time. Care to explain why you’ve kept the council waiting nearly an hour for your presentation?”

That was not at all the way he wished to at the sight of his dearest friend being half dragged by the arm into the meeting hall. In fact it took everything he had not to enforce some very dire consequences on the knight responsible for his position. A feeling clearly shared by the warlock if his expression was any indication.

“I would have-” Merlin began only to be interrupted by his detainer. 

“Apologies for the delay in your plans Sire but I must beg your leave to report a grave violation of Camelot’s laws. Your servant, a trusted ” the man spat the word like an insult, “member of your council, has gone behind your back and consorted with an enemy. A known associate to the greatest threat ever to arise against our land. A scourge-”

“Oh stop being so dramatic!” Merlin glared at the knight and then turned his gaze to the king, the ‘this is all your fault’ written plainly across his face. “He saw me waving goodbye to Aithusa.”

Chapter Text

Half the round table were on their feet in an instant. 

“Is Aithusa alright?”

“What’s he talking about?”

“Did this bum hurt him?”

“Are you alright Merlin? You look exhausted.”

“ENOUGH!”

The room fell into eerie silence. 

Settling back in his chair Arthur steepled his fingers together. Merlin was staking a lot on this, it was time for him to act every bit the king he knew he could be. “Sir Lucian you are accusing a man of treasonous activity. Since that man is, as you freely acknowledge, a trusted member of my council and therefore your equal, the matter is at this moment your word against his. What do you have to present in the way of proof to show me your accusation is justified?”

“My lord we all saw it! He was standing below the rock where the beast lay, calling to it in the cursed magic tongue-”

“Dragon tongue,” Merlin interrupted, sounding offended. “The language of magic sounds completely different. You’ve been a knight over fifteen years, surely you’ve heard it enough to know that.”

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed, deliberately ignoring the barely smothered laughs from certain quarters. “You’ve seen enough of these proceedings to know one person speaks at a time. We’ll hear your testimony momentarily. Continue Sir Lucian.”

“Naturally we observed the situation carefully and before long the dragon bared its teeth-”

“He yawned.” 

“Do you want to muck the stables for a month?”Could you at least try to take this seriously?  He added with his eyes. Merlin rolled his. It’s joke or panic Dollophead, and need I remind you you told me to just be myself if this sort of thing ever happened?  Resisting another sigh Arthur took the silent rebuke and decided to simply ignore any further interjections. He waved his knight on.

“When the dragon bared its teeth I decided the threat had been proven and moved in to subdue the traitor. At that point he began shouting even louder and we barely got him restrained and away before the beast attacked us. I present the bruises to Sirs Robert and Kendrick as well as my own burnt cape as evidence of our struggle.”

Arthur rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I fear that what you consider evidence could be easily countered Sir Lucian. It is rare that knights return from patrol without at least one member having received bruises. As far as your cape is concerned I shouldn’t like to think of my men as careless but accidents happen. And there are few ways to tell burns caused by a dragon’s fire apart from burns caused by a campfire.”

He held up a hand to forestall any response. “Before we hear my servant’s defense, I will need a corroboration of your claims.” The king turned the other knights who’d trickled in behind the two. “You all witnessed this exchange. Do you agree that the account as set forth by Sir Lucian has been put forth fairly and accurately.” The others shuffled a bit but no one volunteered an answer. “Sir Robert, answer me.”

The young man swallowed hard at the sudden attention. “Not exactly Sire,” he answered quietly.

“I see. I remind you all it is your sworn duty to speak the truth to your king. What differences do you have to report?”

“If I may Sire?” Another knight stepped forward, one who, excepting his greater height and the lighter shade of brown to his eyes, looked so much like his late brother-in-law that Arthur still did a double take on occasion upon catching sight of him. 

“You may Sir Isaac.”

“Merlin himself presented no threat to us physical or verbal. The bruises of my comrades are the result of a sparring session they conducted two afternoons previous. And Merlin’s interaction with the dragon was completely non-threatening as well. To begin with his voice was soft and it appeared, to myself at least though I could not understand the words, that he was trying to soothe the creature to sleep. I mentioned this fact but Sir Lucian was determined there was a conspiracy going on. He insisted we rush your servant. Merlin tried to resolve the confrontation peacefully and he did not resist when we took him into custody. He did raise his voice at one point, but the best I can determine it was for the purpose of coming to our aid. The dragon breathed fire only once, catching the hem of Sir Lucian’s cape. 

“So it did attack!” Lord Osbert shouted, earning several glares in his direction.

“My years of fighting experience tell me it was acting to defend itself from a perceived threat, as any being with a sense of self-preservation would,” Sir Isaac corrected coldly. “It was behaving in an entirely peaceful manner when the actions of certain parties...disturbed it. Him rather.” He glanced at Merlin who nodded in confirmation. “Merlin spoke to him in the dragon language and he backed down. He never followed us once the entire way back although I’m surprised his cries weren’t audible even from here.”

Arthur’s heart clinched at the pain in Merlin’s eyes. He was grateful when the knight turned to his servant, curiosity and admiration present on his face. “I don’t know what you did to earn the loyalty of that little one but I think he’d burn the world to keep you safe.”

“As I would for him,” was the quiet but deadly serious answer.  

All eyes now turned to their king who took his time in replying, watching the reaction of every person in the room as they absorbed the confession.

“Merlin is your statement close enough to Sir Isaac’s to let his stand for yours?”

“It is Sire.”

“So your patrol’s behavior was enough to agitate a creature who by your own testimony was in a state of near sleep and therefore doing nothing to cause trouble when you happened upon him and his lord?” This last was directed to Sir Lucian, who seemed to finally be catching on to the fact he was not in control of the situation. 

“Yes Sire.”

“And it was your actions towards his lord that prompted the dragon to exhibit protective behavior. Tell me, what degree of threatening environment did you create that Merlin was forced to exercise his authority in order to prevent the men you were entrusted with from being harmed?”

“I may have been a bit...overzealous in my admonishment of him.”

Merlin snorted and Arthur withheld a smile. 

“A little more specificity please. What was the nature of this admonishment?” He allowed a moment’s silence then prompted, “Sir Isacc tell the court your colleagues' words.”

“With all due respect Sire, may I summarize instead?” The knight’s mouth quirked in an embarrassed half smile. “Some of the exact words would earn me a trip to my family’s cow-house if you understand what I mean?”

This time Merlin laughed outright. “I know the feeling.”

Arthur shook his head “I refuse to believe your mother ever beat you.” 

“She didn’t have to beat me, have you seen her looks? Makes Gaius’ out to be a kitten.”

Half the knights shuddered. “No disrespect intended but I genuinely hope I never see that.” Sir Isaac commented, earning a grin from the warlock. 

“Your Highness, threat or not what right does this servant have to be consorting with a dragon!”

Now or never. Merlin’s subtle nod was all the permission the king needed. Lifting his chin he pinned the opposing councilman with a resolute stare. “It is his right as the sole human being in Albion who has been entrusted with the care of the entire dragon race. And you should thank whatever divinity you serve that he hasn’t held that appointment over your head long before now.”  

“You’re thinking I tell the council I’m a dragonlord.”

“That is a solution.” The king acknowledged. “It doesn’t have to be the only one.” 

“It would be another piece to ensuring the people of Camelot know magic isn’t something that can be prevented.” Gwen commented. “You had no choice in the dragonlord power coming to you. And you’ve done nothing but protect us all since you did.”

Merlin blew out a breath trying to calm the rippling in his stomach. “I just- No you’re right. It’s only a matter of time before Aithusa’s found, it’s best everyone knows he’s under my protection.”

“And that you both are under mine.”

“I agree,” was Gaius' answer when his opinion was asked. “The only problem, well the most pressing problem, is the lack of good regard Dragonlords are held in by Camelot’s law.”

Arthur nodded. “I’d like for you to look into that Gaius. Speak with Geoffrey, tell him you came across a rumor of another Dragonlord’s existence and before you approach me with it you want to have all the facts in place. Several people know of Aithusa showing up in Morgana’s company at Camlann. Having a dragonlord and therefore a magical ally would be a boon, one that this kingdom, if you don’t count Merlin, has been sorely lacking.  

Gaius bowed his head in acknowledgement. “I will find everything I can.” His mentor sent Merlin a smile that he did not feel like returning. “What is it my boy?”

“How are we going to tell them? The council I mean? I can’t just blab it out-” 

“And no one is going to make you.” Arthur interrupted, a soothing note to his voice that Merlin couldn’t decide whether to be grateful for or insulted by. “We’ll have a better idea of how to tell them when we have all our information. Until then let’s talk about how we’ll handle the subject if it’s found out before we get the chance to reveal it.”

The present scenario wasn’t going exactly as predicted but it could be worse. Merlin had rather hoped that any patrol discovering Aithusa would have contained at least one of the men who already knew of his existence. He had to at least give Arthur credit for anticipating the issues that would crop up if one of Merlin’s least favorites discovered the truth. Not that he’d tell him of course, no need to give the man a swelled head. And Aithusa’s cries of fear would not be something easily forgotten.     

“The council had no say in this appointment!” The shout brought the dragonlord’s thoughts back to the moment.

“I’m glad we agree on something.” Arthur retorted calmly. 

You’re enjoying this far too much.

“But I - I meant-”

“Are you implying your king needs permission to act in the best interest of his people?” Merlin interjected.

“A beast such as yours is no part of this kingdom!”

“Isn’t it?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No it is you who don’t know,” Geoffrey spoke up. “And you have less excuse. Merlin is too young to have a living record of his heritage. To him Camelot’s true relations with the Dragonlords” - It was all Merlin could do not to flinch at the title being put out for all to hear - “and their brethren are a long buried history. It was not the same for you. You lived during the time they were welcome here. When the skies above the city were filled with the beat of wings. And you have enough knowledge of the law to know Uther never officially banned either of them from Camelot. He couldn’t have, not if he was going to successfully trick Balinor into believing his offer of peace was sincere.” The old historian’s voice took on a tinge of sadness and disgust that mirrored Merlin’s heart. 

Arthur took over the conversation. “As I have said before, my desire for peace is sincere. It can not be attained by persecuting others for abilities they inherited.”

“Inherited?”

“That’s right.” Now or never. Merlin forced his voice to remain low and firm. “My connection with the dragons wasn’t forged by magic or happenstance but by my father’s nature. He was a Dragonlord and upon his death that power passed to me. I did not ask for it and I can not give it up. Nor do I want to. You all remember the destruction the Great Dragon wrought upon Camelot. Had I been in possession of my power then, his rampage would have ended as soon as it had begun.” 

“How do we know this beast won’t try to murder us all, same as the last one?”

“Did not Sir Lucian kindly acknowledge that Aithusa was in Morgana’s company once upon a time? If anyone were inclined to use such an attack it would have been her. We know she was able to breach these walls herself, at least once. How much easier would it be to send the dragon to decimate Camelot’s defenses? Or simply pass right above them. Has such an attack occurred?”

He stared down the councilmen until the man finally shook his head. “The only facts you need to concern yourself with are these: Aithusa’s loyalty is to me, mine is to my king. However it is also a fact that Aithusa’s life is bound to mine. I hatched him, it is my duty to see to his well being and the well being of any who may come after him. I will protect them all as I would my own child. And if any one of you thinks of bringing them harm…” He allowed his eyes to flicker gold for the briefest moment. “Don’t.” Make of that what you will. “Sire I’m afraid that report might just have to wait another day. I’m going to remind my kin that neither one of us have anything to fear, least of all the knights of Camelot.”

Arthur gave him a nod of dismissal. “Give him my regards. We will reconvene tomorrow at noon.”

“I’ll accompany you out of the castle if I may?” Sir Issac asked. “I wish to hear more about Aithusin.” 

“Aithusa ,” Merlin corrected kindly. “What do you want to know?”

“Well for a start how old is he because he’s obviously intelligent but…” The chatter continued the entire walk into the courtyard, Merlin barely answering one question before another was posed. It was the best sound he’d heard in weeks. 

Chapter Text

“So this, this Dragonlord power, it’s just going to be another exemption your servant has from the law?”

Arthur barely managed to stop a sigh. Not even five minutes in and already the controversy was starting. “For the time being yes,” he answered, true regret evident in his tone. “It’s a temporary measure I assure you.” A few courtiers, mistaking the meaning behind his words, start trading  smirks among themselves. The king let them have their moment of supposed triumph before adding, “If all goes well there soon won’t be a law anyone will need exemption from.”

Disbelieving looks turned his direction. 

 “Sire?” 

“You are well aware of what I’m speaking of, I don’t need to spell it out for you.”

And three, two, one.

“You mean to remove the restrictions on all magic? Restrictions that your father spent your entire life enforcing?” Lord Osbert’s gaze flicked to Arthur’s right. “This was your idea sorcerer!” 

Merlin snorted and several knights groaned. Conversation paused as hands dug into purses and coins were slapped into the warlock’s outstretched palm. “I warned you this would happen. Not even ten seconds passed before it all became my fault. One would think members of this council don’t believe their king capable of making his own decisions.” 

Sir Isaac nudged Gwaine with his elbow. “You pay up too.”

“Oh no, I’m in the clear with this. I learned a long time ago, never bet against Merlin. And don’t play dice against him either. The man took me for thirty silver one night, I learned my lesson after that.”

“Shh, you’re giving away my secrets.”

“Merlin has a valid point however,” Arthur redirected the conversation before he thought too hard about the night his servant had all too willingly gone along with his suggestion the two of them play dice. “My father, who you seem so anxious to remind me of, also spent most of my life teaching me what happened to those who challenged the king’s decisions. Do you need a reminder of such lessons?”

Worry flashed in the old man’s eyes momentarily though it quickly turned to distrust and defiance. “Your father never gave any doubt he was in control of his own mind.”

Merlin started to lift his hand again and Arthur pushed it back down. “Not yet.”

The lord blinked and then continued. “This man has been beside you in every choice you’ve made in magic’s favor. How do we know he hasn’t been behind them. How do we know he hasn’t enchanted-”

“There it is.” 

This time Arthur joined in the simultaneous expressions of dismay, adding his own payment to the gradually increasing pile in front of his friend. Gwaine and Merlin again shared a mutually smug grin.   

“You said the magic word there oh shriveled one,” was the knight’s further comment. 

“And he clearly has all of you under his thumb as well!” Another lord spoke up.

“If placing even a portion of Camelot’s knights under magical control were possible, would not Morgana have taken advantage of it?” Percival asked firmly as yet another payout was handed over. “She wouldn’t have had the need for half of the spies or armies she employed if she could have simply made the kingdom give itself over to her.” 

“That proves nothing. This traitor-”

“Silence!” Guinevere snapped. “These baseless accusations will cease at once or each and every one of you will be held personally accountable for bankrupting the kingdom. You are being informed of these changes not asked about them. You can listen and learn or resign, right here and right now. Your choice.”

The following quiet was absolute and stretched on for several minutes, each member of the round table regarding their queen with varying amounts of respect and terror. Finally, after a near invisible signal from his king, Leon spoke up. 

“What do you propose to replace the current law with my lord? Merlin’s power over the dragons will only ever be used for the good of Camelot but can we say the same would hold true for others whose power over magic might be just as strong?”

“A very good question Sir Leon and, if there are no further interruptions, I will commence with this meeting’s actual agenda. And that is how we will be moving forward with reintroducing magic back into everyday life. Without requiring its users to request special exemption before proceeding with their task.”

“Before King Uther instituted the ban there was a very fair and proactive set of laws regulating the use of sorcery.” Geoffrey began. “It was perfectly sufficient in those days although I can’t say it would hold the same influence in light of current events.”

“Agreed. Those laws are in the process of being examined in detail by all interested parties to see which will work best in granting freedom to those with magical capabilities and allaying the fears of those who do not. This decision was not made lightly nor will it have a short resolution. But I encourage you to look at this as reintegrating a part of our society, not creating a new one a new society altogether. There will be trial and error on both sides, regulations that are drafted up might have to be revised the first time they are used. But I don’t foresee it being as difficult as it might appear.” 

“As Geoffrey has pointed out, some laws do not age well. We need a system that works well with current and future ages not past ones.”

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement of his queen’s point. “Therefore I don’t intend to rely solely on old texts and imperfect memories when it comes to instituting our kingdom’s new policies. Through wise counsel and no small amount of good fortune Camelot has established and maintained open and friendly relations with several of our neighboring kingdoms who have more...relaxed views on the subject of magic. 

“Because of this difference in policy, there have never been formal treaties with some of these kingdoms and the treaties in place with others are so old that they weren’t even signed by the current rulers. As such the queen and I have issued an invitation to the leaders of said kingdoms to discuss either the forming or renewal of alliances. It has been made formally known to them, if they need such reassurance, that Camelot is revising the way it treats magic that is used within its borders, and requests that our allies do the same. The invitation also made it clear that insight on how those kingdoms that allow magic manage problems involving it would not be unwelcome. Or better still, insight into how they prevent problems from occurring at all.”

“They’ve agreed to this my lord?” One of the younger councilors asked.  

“So far we can expect guests from Nemeth, Gwynedd, Deorham and Gawant,” Gwen informed him.

“Gawant? Lord Godwin would not agree to tolerate magic under his rule. He was loyal to Uther.”

Endeavoring not to lose his temper at the dig, Arthur pulled a letter from the pile in front of him. “If you doubt my word Lord Osbert you can read his reply for yourself.” 

The Lord accepted the command and the rest of the round table spent the next few minutes watching as his face alternately paled and flushed. At last he put the paper down and sat back with the look of a man trying to swallow a mouse. 

“For those of you who may have missed the announcement” Arthur explained, barely withholding his amusement, “Princess Elena was wed less than six months before Queen Guinevere and myself. What was kept quiet for the sake of our alliance was that her husband was from an ancient line of sorcerers indigenous to the Western Isles. A small group established residence in Dyfed and the westernmost border of Gawant. One of their members was the closest living relative to what remained of a royal family and as such petitioned for peaceful relations with Lord Godwin. The young man and the princess quickly grew attached to one another. Given Drystan’s power and the fact that Elena had refused all other suitors, her father did not think it wise to discourage the union and the opportunities it presented.” 

“The princess and her husband replied to our request by saying that they are happy to lend their full support to Camelot’s reunification with magic. Lord Godwin added that while he remains personally unsure on the issue, in the interests of a peaceful future for his current and future grandchildren he is open to discussing it.” Guinevere’s typically warm gaze hardened fractionally. “His party will arrive at the end of next month along with all others who have agreed to attend. When they arrive they will find the members of this kingdom as open and welcoming as they would be if a treaty on any other subject was being celebrated.” 

“Welcomed by all except you Lord Osbert.” Arthur fixed the man with a stern glare. “You were wrong earlier. My father’s mind was not always his own. Rather, over the years it became possessed by guilt and rage, and not one person living in Camelot has remained unaffected by the consequence of his unfettered hatred and fear. Only those who prove that they are willing to set aside such deficiencies are of any use to me in directing the future of my kingdom. Effective immediately I am retiring you back to your estate. You will remain there unless your presence is required by the crown. Thank you for years of service. Council is dismissed.”

“Do you think this strategy will be effective?” Arthur wondered aloud as Merlin helped divest him of his formal attire. 

“I think it’s brilliant. It’ll do everyone good to hear unbiased opinions. If nothing else, hearing other kingdoms have a working relationship with magic beyond merely using it to fix their problems will help reassure the people. Better still, if there could ultimately be one policy for magic’s relations with all kingdoms, that would help further a united Albion.”

“Hmm,” the king rubbed his forehead slowly, “still not sure about that.”

Merlin cocked his head. “You’re not sure about having the kingdoms be united?”

“Uniting the kingdoms yes, your idea that I’m the best one to lead said kingdoms however...” He’d never expected such a proposition. It was both alluring and terrifying.

“Well, we can argue about that later. In the meantime you have the afternoon free, I would suggest taking a nap.”

Arthur stretched slowly, willing the tension in his muscles to ease. “This one time Merlin I’m going to agree with you.” He turned around only to startle at arms wrapping themselves tightly around him. “Um, Merlin.”

“I know you don’t like them but you’re going to have to get used to it once in a while. What you’ve started today, what it’ll ultimately mean for people like me, I don’t have the right words. Hugs are how I was taught to say thank you without them.”

Recognizing the gratitude and also the request for reassurance the gesture doubled as Arthur bit back a sarcastic comment and settled into the embrace. Merlin let him pull away after a minute but kept a grip on his shoulders.

“I mean it,” he murmured softly. He then cleared his throat noisily. “I’ll uh, I’ll let you get some rest.”

The king clapped his friend on the arm and shooed him off with orders to do the same. He collapsed into bed the moment Merlin closed the door and was out before he even remembered to remove his boots.

“Gwen? What’s wrong?”

The queen rose from the bench she’d been occupying and hurried over to him. 

“Are you alright?” They uttered simultaneously. She rolled her bottom lip under her teeth, waiting for him to answer first.

“I..yes. Why do you ask?”

“I just,” she sighed nervously. “I know we planned for them, and you played them off better than we could have hoped. But I also know the council’s accusations had to have bothered you, and I’m here to tell you that sharing the fact you’re upset about their words does not make you a burden to anyone.”  

Merlin sighed, blinking back the mist that tried to gather under his lashes. “Only one of the lords refused to back down, and it’s safe to say the others have learned from his example. Although…” He shrugged, unsure how to put his disappointment into words. He’d known it was foolish to expect the charge of enchantments placed upon the king not to come up - no matter how the others had insisted none of the lords were that stupid. But a pile of coins didn’t make up for hearing one of his greatest fears voiced loud and clear. 

Gwen watched him, her own eyes brimming with tears. “I just wish I could do something to help.”  

“You have. You’ve listened. You spoke up for me even when you didn't have to. And you fixed this for me without me even asking.” He pointed to the mended rip in the blue jacket he was still wearing. The stitches she’d used were so fine and even it was almost impossible to see there had been a tear in the first place. Still the visible sign of the threat made against him caused her face to fall. 

“Changing the law can’t change people’s hearts Gwen. People without magic won’t automatically trust it and people with magic won’t automatically trust Camelot. And they might never. It takes a brave person to be willing to change their way of thinking. The rest of us have to live with that. And that’s okay. At least this time if I have to wait for acceptance, I know I’m not waiting alone.”

“Certainly not! You are my friend, and I will support you for as long as I draw breath.” 

He smiled warmly and thanked her. “Now tell me, what else is it that’s bothering you?”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t going to ask.” She broke eye contact, twisting the pearl ring Arthur had given her for their last anniversary around her finger. 

“What?” he asked gently, taking her hand to stop the nervous fidget. 

“Have you found any answers to the problem I asked you about?” 

His expression shuttered. “I looked but it was as I suspected. The only way magic can ensure you conceive would be at the cost of another person’s life.”  

“I’m not asking for help conceiving Merlin, I just want you to tell me if something is wrong. I can’t stand this anymore! The looks, the whispers - you know what it’s like all too well. The more vicious the rumor, the more people delight in spreading it. If I’m not with child soon -”

“Arthur would never set you aside Gwen. You are the most important person in his life, heir or no heir. You know this.” 

She shook her head. “It’s not just having an heir, I love him with all my heart. I want to have his child. I keep imagining what it would be like to feel the life growing inside me, to lay our newborn in my husband’s arms. He nearly died Merlin. He could again at any point and I… I need to know I’ll always have a piece of him with me, no matter what happens.”

The faint connection he felt to Balinor every time he uttered the dragon tongue passed through Merlin’s mind. “I can understand your longing Gwen. And no one could have a purer motive. But the power to bring a new life into the world is a fickle and poorly understood gift. Why it works in some people and not others can be impossible to determine. I know Gaius has explained this to you both. We may find you are in absolutely perfect health, no curses or deviations from what is necessary to conceive, and it still may never happen.”   

“Either way I need to know. If we can’t have a child of our own, then we’ll have to find another means of securing the kingdom’s future. Especially now that Arthur wants to expand our pool of alliances. The rulers of those kingdom’s deserve to know who they’ll be dealing with should Arthur pass before his time.” 

They’ll deal with you Gwen, Arthur’s declared it so multiple times. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to hear that however. “I’ll do what I can. I don’t know a lot about this subject, for obvious reasons, but I know where to find the druid healers, one of them might have a better idea of what to look for. When I know how to do a proper test, I'll tell you. Both of you.”

“I don-”

“No.” He interrupted. “You face this together or not at all. Arthur would say the same.”

“Alright.” Impulsively she threw her arms around him. “Just try your best. Please.”

He hugged her back, a sad smile on his lips. “I always try.” 

Chapter Text

There were several reasons for the meeting of kingdoms to be postponed a month. Morgana and Mordred were dead, true, but Saxon activity was still high and small bands of attacking forces were making their presence known in several regions. Travel - any travel - was dangerous, and even a small royal envoy could only move so quickly. It was a mark of high respect both for Camelot and for the issues at stake that so many ruling families were willing to risk making the journey at all.  

Security issues weren’t the only reason Arthur was grateful for the delay however. It also gave him time to prepare exactly the type of questions he would ask on the subject of magic and how to prioritize treaties with some kingdoms while not neglecting hospitality to others. There was a lot to process and a small outbreak of illness in the lower town meant Merlin’s path didn’t linger across his for several days. The king had forgotten how much the other man’s presence grounded him in times like this. 

After a poor attempt at a night’s sleep Arthur found himself watching the sunrise from the eastern battlements when his friend approached him with an expression the king could only describe as uncertain. 

“What has you up and about so early”

“I’m a servant, I’m supposed to be up early.”

“Finally realizing that? What brought you up here?” 

“I went to your chambers but when the only snores coming from them were Gwen’s I realized you must have had a bad night too. This is where you come when that happens. Seeing the city at peace calms you down.”

“She’s cute when she snores.” Merlin rolled his eyes and leaned on the wall next to him. Arthur watched him out of the corner of his eye. “What calms you down?”

“Hm.” Merlin poked his chin thoughtfully. “Letters from my mother talking about the simple farming routine she has. Smell of herbs drying over the fire. Warm breezes. Knowing I can tell you something important and you won’t just ignore me anymore. Little things like that.”  

The king raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him fully. “And what important thing do you need to tell me right now?”

“Among other things, that you should be wary of Alined’s opinions when it comes to how sorcerers deserve to be treated.”

“I know he supported my father’s opinions-

“Claimed to support them. His servant Trickler was a sorcerer and Alined used his power unreservedly in an attempt to spark war between the five kingdoms.”

Arthur blew out a frustrated breath, his peaceful feeling shattered. If Merlin felt any guilt about being the cause he didn’t show it, instead watching his king with a determined gaze. 

“Is there a short version to this story or do I need to have breakfast first? 

“He cast a love spell on you so you would make advances to Lady Vivian. When she rejected you the spell was cast on her too. Things between you played out exactly as Alined anticipated. If King Olaf had killed you in your duel Uther would have declared war, and if you had killed Olaf his people or their allies would have declared war on Camelot.”  

“And Alined would have profited from the sale of weapons. Probably to both sides.” Arthur pondered the information. “I take it I have you to thank for my infatuation disappearing?” 

“Mm yes and no. I found the way to break the spell, actually to be completely fair Kilgharrah was the one to tell me, but I convinced Gwen to help. She had the hard part.”

“Which was?”

“Swallowing her pride and hurt over how you went from professing devotion to her one day and tossing her aside like a used rag the next, and giving you a kiss.”

“I see. Well if it makes you feel any better I made it worth her while.”

“And if you’ll excuse me I need to go throw up now.”

Arthur laughed. “Come on, you teased me enough before I admitted I loved her. Besides, one day you’ll be gushing over someone too.” 

A half heartbeat’s silence was all that was needed to recognize the misstep. But Merlin only said, “Princess Elena was possessed by a Sidhe.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s true. That's what I meant when I said they wanted to put one of their members on the throne. She was a changeling and after you married the fairy living inside her would have overtaken her mind and body completely. Also her nurse had a purple tongue as long as a frog’s.”

“Okay, okay,” Arthur started pushing him along the wall. “Get inside. Now. Breakfast and something strong to drink, go get them and come tell me when they’re ready.”

“How much of this visit is going to be occupied in pursuing a full fledged treaty with Nemeth and Gwynedd?”

Arthur put down his fork, considering his wife’s question. “Realistically there can’t be much. Not unless it’s a treaty that involves all the kingdoms attending. We have non-aggression pacts, in the loosest sense of the term, those can be formalized if nothing else. Anything more will probably have to wait for another time if we don’t want to risk offending the other rulers by making them feel excluded from the negotiations. Besides, King Rodor’s son is remaining in Nemeth for this occasion. I’d like him to be involved, as the next ruler his input will be valuable for a lasting peace.”

Guinevere’s expression was surprised. “I understood Mithian was his heir.”

Arthur shook his head. “The King tells me the Crown Prince was in Angila conducting talks with them, Tir Mor, and Kent about the constructions of trade routes and ports when Morgana and Odin invaded. He didn’t get word about what happened until it was all over.”

“That must have been terrifying.” 

“From what I hear he’s well loved by their people. For his fighting skills and even more for his way of solving issues without having to resort to using them. He’ll be a valuable ally.”

“One I look forward to meeting.” 

Quiet resumed as they finished their meal and the queen sipped the tea Merlin had obtained from a nearby druid camp. The healer hadn’t promised anything specific by it but said that the herbs would help her overall health which would be important no matter what happened. It didn’t taste that great Arthur could tell, but she drank it faithfully every morning and evening.

“After things are settled with Nemeth and Gwynedd I’ll need to try to open a dialogue with Lot.” He said when she finished. 

“Escetir has never been an ally have they?”

“Not since before my father took over. I think the only reason we haven’t had more trouble is Lot knows Camelot’s army is far superior to his. And he has no sorceress to back him the way Cenred did.” 

“That’s not exactly reassuring. Assuming we do convince him to sign a treaty who does that leave? Odin?”

The king willed his shoulders not to tense. “I think more than a year is going to be necessary before any party involved is going to be ready for that challenge.”

She nodded in acceptance although her concerned look took a minute to fade. “When you’re ready then.” She stood and came around to kiss his temple. “If anyone can make it work you can.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’ll succeed with you at my side.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”  

“Ah Merlin, when you’re finished with those tinctures Geoffrey would like a word with you down in the library.” 

The dark haired man turned to blink at his mentor. “Are you sure? He usually doesn’t want me anywhere near his books.”

“I think that’s mostly due to the reputation you’d built for unintentionally damaging things when you were younger. You’re not that way anymore.”

“Did he say what he wanted me for?”

“Only that it was important and for your ears only.”   

“I’m almost done, I’ll be there soon.”

Gaius spared him a smile and was gone again in a hurry, the work of a physician never at an end.

The scent of dust, ancient parchment, and half burnt beeswax was not going to adorn court ladies handkerchiefs anytime soon, but Merlin found the aroma relaxing and inspiring at the same time. Clearly Geoffrey did too for all the time the archivist spent among the library shelves, far beyond what was required for his job. 

The main room was empty of any signs of activity so he made his way to the back of the east wing where a small storage room held the logs of all the books the library contained. Geoffrey often retreated there to study and keep track of what volumes were out on loan, which would need rebinding, and countless other inventory tasks. Merlin might envy him the knowledge contained in these walls but he certainly did not envy the workload involved in maintaining them. 

Arriving at the half closed door he knocked and waited for the sound of shuffling footsteps before easing it open further. 

The old record keeper looked up, a scolding ready on his lips when he saw just who had dared disturb him in his sacred domain. “Oh it’s you boy.”

“Gaius said-”

“Yes, yes, come in and close the door.”

Not wanting to face death by a thousand paper cuts Merlin did as he was told without a sound.

“I have a question for you. I admit it is primarily prompted by conjecture which I would typically eschew using, but in this instance I believe the possible truth to be important enough to relevant a direct inquiry rather than attempting to gather more evidence that may no longer exist.”

The young man blinked, apprehension rising despite his best effort to contain it. “I’m listening?”

“By your own admission your power over the dragons was acquired after the Great Dragon’s attack. The only Dragonlord whose death is known to have occurred since that occasion is Balinor. And you can say what you want about an old man’s memory, but you do bear more than a passing resemblance to the man as I knew him thirty years ago.” Merlin looked away, bracing for the pain the next question was sure to bring. He startled when a wrinkled hand grasped him by the shoulder. “I’m afraid I’m several years late, but please accept my condolences on your loss.”

“Thank you. I wish...I wish I’d known him. If only to make caring for Aithusa easier.” 

“I’ve no doubt. I fear I have precious little left of the lore of the Dragonlords but you can be assured I will pass on whatever information I come across.”

“I would be grateful for that.” Awkward silence passed for a few heartbeats. “I would also be grateful for anything you could tell me about him. My father I mean. Where he was from, did he have family, what was his family name? I know I can’t use it but..”

Geoffrey shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know. He didn’t use a surname when I knew him. Said something about a personal vow he made when he became a Dragonlord. He gave up all rights to his family inheritance, in order to ensure others were provided for. As for what kingdom he hailed from, he mentioned missing the sea once or twice but I don’t know if it was meant in the form of missing home or just a statement in general. But I know he wasn’t born in Camelot.”

“I’m doubtful it was Escetir either seeing as that’s where he fled to when he escaped. Where he met my mother.”

A small smile graced the other man’s face. “I despise nearly everything that happened during the purge, but that is one event I am proud to have had a hand in.”  

“You helped him get out?”

“I did. As I say, when I knew him he was every inch the traveler, more comfortable in the open skies than he ever was within four walls. But we always got along well. He appreciated my knowledge and I appreciated his silence. We often would sit by the library fire in the evenings. I would read and he would carve animals from wood.” 

Despite the lingering sadness Merlin smiled. “He made me a dragon during the one night we had.”

Geoffrey matched his expression. “His personal best I’m sure.” The old man sobered “Uther’s betrayal of him was an act neither Gaius nor I could endure. Speaking of his escape…” he turned and picked a box up off his desk. The wood was worn but Merlin recognized it as the type used to store whatever belongings were removed from prisoners' person until after their trial. 

“Your father didn’t bring much on that last visit.” Geoffrey explained, handing the box over. “He rarely did in any case, but I also believe that somewhere deep down he didn’t trust Uther as much as he thought he did. There were no letters, or jewelry, nothing to tie him back to a family or region where others like him may have escaped to. Uther thought he got everything he did have, but the guards missed this. When I snuck down to explain Gaius’ plan he gave it to me. Told me even if he survived he’d never be able to look at it again without it reminding him of everything he’d thrown away.”

A pit wedged firmly in his stomach Merlin lifted the latch and nearly dropped the whole box when he saw what lay within.

“I um. Thank you but crystals and I really don’t get along.”

The old historian gripped his wrist firmly and pulled out the tiny luminescent rock. “This isn’t for seeing the future.” He explained, expression oddly sympathetic. “Gaius will be able to explain it better, but there was a time when certain varieties of crystals were enchanted to store and replay memories. Either personal ones or, if the recorder was powerful enough those of a kingdom. It made documenting and learning history as well as determining the truth of a crime far easier. Alas it was a specialty and even before the purge there were those who considered the practice dangerous and deceptive.”

“This crystal has my father’s memories?”

“Given its size, I’d say memory. A short one. But it meant something to him, enough for him to bring it with him despite foregoing all other mementoes. Whatever it may be of, by all rights it belongs to you now.”

It took two or three throat clearings but at last he managed to get a “thank you” out. Geoffrey inclined his head in acknowledgement and waved a hand indicating he could leave. As he did one other thought broke through Merlin’s clouded mind. 

“The king and I would appreciate...discretion when it comes to the knowledge of my father’s identity.”

“As far as anyone other than you, King Arthur, or Gaius is concerned I have no idea Balinor has any relations in Camelot. And it will remain so unless you tell me otherwise.”

Light and color rippled and wavered steadily until at last they resolved into two pale skinned young boys sitting in a garden. The elder, in his early teens, watched as the younger who looked to be five or six pounced on a wyvern lounging across the grassy lawn. He let out a loud laugh as the scaled creature rolled out from under the tackle and pinned the boy to ground. 

“Bal help!”

The first boy continued to chuckle, shaking his shoulder length black hair. “You know what they’re like. This isn’t the first time Peredur has gotten the better of you.” 

“If father would just teach me how to command him too I wouldn’t have to resort to this.” 

The teen’s eyes grew sad. “I wish he could Tor. But the power’s only going to come to me. It’s impossible to share.” He clucked his tongue and the wyvern got up, shook out his wings and began grooming the dirt from its neck spikes. 

The little boy got to his own feet, kicking the dirt dejectedly. Balinor waved him over, brushed off his clothes and pulled him onto his lap. “You’ll come into your own baby brother, I know you will. Just because you won’t have the voice of a Dragonlord doesn’t mean you don’t have a voice. It will come to you when you need it.”

"When? I can’t find it if I’m stuck here. You’re going to be gone all the time, just like he is. You’re going to have wonderful adventures. You’ll see Nemeth, and Elmet, and the South Seas, and the White Mountains, and maybe even Camelot.”

Balinor frowned. “Mother says no one is seeing Camelot so long as King Vortigan reigns. But that’s all years from now. I have too much to learn to dream of leaving now. And,” he shifted and pressed his forehead to his brother’s, “I promise you, no matter where I go, no matter how long I’m gone, a part of me will always find its way home to you.”   

The scene faded and Merlin lay back on his cot, rolling the crystal between his thumb and forefinger, his magic book long forgotten on his lap. Three times watching the memory and still the tears threatened to overflow. For years he’d dreamed of learning more about his father and now he was only left with more questions.  

Still the gift was something precious. And if, in the future, he was able to find anyone who remained of Balinor’s family, he’d have some proof of his identity he could share with them. That was worth being thankful for. 

A combination of tapping and the creaking sound of the door opening a crack pulled his attention away. Gaius was watching him closely. 

“You missed dinner, I feared you were unwell.”

“What? Oh no, I’m alright. Just forgot to be hungry I guess.”

Gaius hummed. “What do you have there?”

Unexpectedly a bubble of joy coursed through Merlin’s heart and he grinned freely. “A mystery, but a welcome one. Come here, I’ll show you.”   

Chapter Text

“I know it’s a serious occasion but you don’t have to look so miserable.”

Arthur started but quickly covered it with a glare. “It so happens Merlin the sun is in my eyes.”

Merlin looked pointedly back and forth between him and the thick layer of clouds covering the sky. “I have magic and even can’t see how that’s possible. But whatever, they’re your eyes.”

“Yes they are and right now they’re looking at a servant who is most definitely not in their proper place for receiving a royal envoy.”

“I’ve been receiving royal envoys from the back row for the last two days. I thought I’d mix it up a little this time.” He raised his eyebrows innocently at the withering look he received. “Fine but when your welcoming committee is labeled as painfully ordinary don’t go blaming it on me.”  

Arthur’s retort was cut off as the signal trumpets blew and soldiers carrying the jade green standards of the kingdom of Nemeth marched into view. A group of maybe two dozen all included followed them, their rulers at the lead. 

At a respectable distance King Rodor held up a hand to halt the procession. With a nod to the knight seated on the horse next to him he swung himself to the ground and waited for his daughter to dismount before finishing his approach on foot. 

“Welcome Your Highness,” Arthur greeted as they clasped arms firmly. “I’m pleased you arrived safely.”

“And in good health I am pleased to report. If you permit me some advice for the future, don’t ever let anyone be it your children or your men confine you to a stuffy old carriage under the guise of ‘concern’. Fresh air and exercise do far more to benefit you then a comfortable seat.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Arthur acknowledged, holding back a smile at the sight of Mithian heaving an exasperated sigh. He had to admit the other king, even attired in basic travel clothes slightly dampened by days on the road, managed to look as much if not far more regal and dignified than others who’d arrived in ostentatious conveyance. 

“We’ve not kept everyone waiting I hope.” Rodor added.

No indeed. Queen Annis arrived only yesterday, King Alined the day before that. We still await Lord Godwin and his party, I’m afraid they’ve been delayed longer than we expected.”

“Traveling with children will always do that.”

“Children?”

“Princess Elena refuses to be away from her son for more than a day or two at a time,” Mithian explained. “And that is only when she remains in her own kingdom. She would not leave him behind for such a long trip as this.”

Arthur really didn’t think the distance was all that great and he fought off a frown at the little wrinkle this presented. The thought of ensuring a child of three at the oldest was cared for so his parents attention was undivided wasn’t something he’d anticipated. Something of his uncertainty must have shown in his face for King Rodor smiled faintly. 

“I have hosted many discussions with the princess and her husband and I can assure you they are quite capable of keeping focused on the task at hand. And the young lad is quite the charmer.” The king’s eye twinkled faintly as he turned to Guinevere, “I suggest Your Highness take precautions.”

She laughed light and clear. “I thank you for your kind warning.”

“As do I,” Arthur added, allowing a mock frown this time. “Shall we?” 

The Nemethian servants gathered their master’s personal belongings and followed as the royal party moved indoors while those of Camelot split into two groups, one to aid in securing the horses, the other to act as escorts. From the corner of his eye Arthur saw Merlin confidently join the latter, only to pause almost shyly when Mithian acknowledged him with a bright smile. It was some seconds before he seemed to remember his task.

The king kept his confusion to himself with an effort. Merlin was a good friend but he got decidedly odd sometimes. 

“Merlin. Might I trouble you for a moment?”

The warlock hastily tugged his jacked closed, hoping to cover the fresh stain courtesy of the exuberant little Prince Lofric. The toddler was very well mannered and had apologized for spilling his drink without prompting, but Merlin was thoroughly worn out looking after guests and had to bury a sharp twinge of disappointment that now he doubted he’d have time to change before he had to dress Arthur for dinner. 

“How can I help you Princess?”

Mithian twisted her hands nervously. “It might be nothing, in which case I’m sorry for wasting your time. But I can’t think who else might listen. I mean I don’t like thinking the worst of people and I’m sure Camelot’s security is nothing to be laughed at…” Merlin had to hold back an urge to do just that. “But I fear the unconventionalness of our kingdoms gathering like this has put me a little on edge. I’m not asking for specifics but… well I should like to know if some sort of plan is in place should things go... wrong.”

All thoughts of stained clothes were forgotten. “Can you think of a reason why they are likely to go wrong?”

She blushed faintly but didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “There is no threat being held over my family in an effort to make negotiations go awry. But I can’t say so for any of the others. Nor can we give you any assurances that the others might make trouble for any personal reasons of their own.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m not even sure why I’m saying any of this, it’s not like you need me to tell you not to blindly trust what people tell you. I just feel.. Never mind, it’s probably my imagination more than anything.”

“I doubt you’re the paranoid type Your Highness. And thank you. Most nobles are either too wrapped in their own concerns to offer a warning that might appear undesirable. And others wouldn’t speak of disquiet for fear of seeming weak.” He tried to put on a reassuring smile. “I’m sure Arthur would be willing to hear your concerns. Would you like me to take you to him-”

“No, no. I have nothing to go on. It’s just a feeling.”

“I trust feelings. And he still needs to know others have more than political concerns. I’ll tell him if you want. We’ll be on guard.”

She smiled gratefully. “I would appreciate that. I know you’re both busy, and my experiences are probably leading me to exaggerate. But thank you for the indulgence.”

“Not at all. Would you like an escort back to your room?” 

“I...alright.”

They fell into step, side by side.

“Perhaps this isn’t the right moment but since you’re with me I’ve been wanting to ask you a question.” He turned toward her, fully alert. “Your king appears quite eager to reintroduce magic into Camelot. I’m curious what your feelings are on the subject.”

“I’m in favor of freedom for all people regardless of belief.” 

“Especially as you are one who needs that freedom.”

He pulled back a little, rapidly paling. “What..when..does everyone know?!” 

“Merlin please I-” she hurriedly glanced around to see if anyone else observed their exchange. As luck would have it, the corridor was deserted. Looking back at her companion she saw he’d gathered himself and was now standing with cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

“I...I’m sorry, I don’t usually panic like that. Of course it’s hardly a secret anymore, I just...”

“It’s ok, I promise. We all have our demons. They take us by surprise when we least expect it. I’ll tell you this, the other day I passed one of our cooks, and I’ve known this woman my whole life mind you, and I only saw her out of the corner of my eye but just that glance about made me run for my life. She’s in mourning for her husband and her long grey hair was hanging loose around her face. You can probably guess who I imagined it was.” 

He nodded, gaze full of sympathy and understanding. After a moment she took his arm and headed on. He followed slowly, his flush deepening at the sight of their intertwined fingers. 

“You shouldn’t, someone will see. They’ll think…”

She drew herself up and arched a brow. “Think what? It so happens I’ve come over faint and you’re kind enough to offer your support until I reach a private place to rest, that’s all.” 

His answering grin was a bit forced but he didn’t argue. 

Her smile turned uneasy. “Actually now that the situation has been brought up, I’ve realized I never took the time to apologize for your injury. When I asked for your help I never.. I had no idea Morgana would-”

“Mithian.” Coming to a stop, he continued in a gentle tone. “What happened wasn’t anyone’s fault but Morgana’s.” 

She shook her head. “I should have found another way. One that didn’t involve risking your life. If you had died it would have been my fault, you’ll never convince me otherwise. So don’t try.”

“As you wish Princess.”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You use my name to interrupt me, and now I’m ‘Princess’? One or the other if you please, and be consistent.”

“Whatever you say Princess.”

A frown tugged at her brow until she glanced sideways and caught the twinkle in his sky blue eyes. “Ah so friendship is synonymous with teasing. I might have guessed.”

“Friendship?”

She smiled tentatively at his puzzled look. 

“Surely we can be friends this time? Now that you’re not worrying about stopping me from marrying your king and I haven’t been forced to lead you to your doom.” 

He hesitated then gave an awkward smile “You realize you’re asking to be friends with a servant right?”    

She snorted and leaned a little heavier on him as they resumed walking. “Anyone who’d frown on such connections is a fool. If Arthur can fall in love with and marry a servant, I can be friends with one. And anyway we both know you’re more far than that.”

They were halfway up the stairway leading to the guest chambers before he managed to ask how she was so sure he had magic.   

“Who else would Arthur do this for?”

That answer prompted a strange look in her direction. “What do you mean?”

“Oh really, Merlin! You don’t just wake up one morning and decide to revise your whole system of belief. Someone had to have been the motivation. The only ones he would care enough to do that for are his queen and you. And in the intimacy of a marriage there is no way Guinevere could have kept that kind of secret. So when did you learn? Or do you not wish to talk about it?” 

“It’s a bit strange is all. To answer your question though, I never had to formally learn, I’ve been able to use it my entire life.” 

That brought her to a stop. “Your entire...so even? You... You must have found a way to save us, back at the tomb. It’s bothered me for so long, our escape was too much of a coincidence. Your magic is the only explanation. How did I not see? Well now I’m annoyed.”

“I’m good at hiding it.”

“Clearly.”

“Is that a problem?”

“On the contrary, I like you all the better for it.”

“What do you mean?” This conversation was beginning to strain the limits of his vocabulary.

“I’ve grown up around magic.” She answered after a moment. “Our court life, my education, magic’s been a part of all of it for as long as I can remember. It’s even saved the life of various members of my family - before we met you. My not being able to spot it, that’s a rare thing indeed.”

“What would…?”

“What?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t..”

“Ask Merlin. If I don’t want to answer, I’ll say so.”

“Well it’s just… What if you had married Arthur? What would you have done moving into a kingdom who treated magic as evil when you knew that wasn’t the case?”

She lowered her head in thought. “It would have been delicate, I agree. But had I become Camelot’s queen, I would have seen the ban was lifted in time.” She spoke with such calm assurance that Merlin couldn’t help but believe her, although he added, “You would have found it a tough job swaying Arthur to go along with that.” 

Mithian gave him a secretive smile. “Do not underestimate the influence a wife can have. And really, knowing you would have been on my side I don’t think it would have been hard at all. But it’s of no consequence now, and so much the better I say. Maybe now you’ll finally see how much Arthur values you. You’re very brave.”

Redness rose in his cheeks and he tried to brush away the compliment, but she wasn’t having it.

“You are, truly. Not only to have held onto hope all these years, but with the truth coming out now you’re opening yourself up to the very thing that people fear most - rejection. You are putting yourself out there, stating who you are and that you are not ashamed to be who you are, and hoping against hope that the people who’ve come to know and love you can accept that after years of believing you to be someone else. You’re willing to face whatever hurt or disappointment they’re feeling, whether it’s justified or not. And it’s your strength that will carry them through this change.”

“Arthur-”

“Arthur’s brave in that he’s willing to accept change,” she interrupted. “You are brave for being willing to be the reason for change.”

“You should listen to her Merlin.”

They both startled at the soft voice behind them. Mithian turned to see a small, neatly dressed but obviously peasant woman with bright blue eyes smiling at them from the end of the hall. 

Merlin abruptly pulled his arm from her’s and rushed to the woman, enveloping her in an enthusiastic embrace. He practically smothered her with the strength of the hug but she didn’t complain. In fact she clung to him with equal intensity, whispering low and fast. 

Before Mithian could hasten away from the clearly personal reunion, the two separated and quickly remembered they weren’t alone.   

“Oh ah forgive me Princess,” Merlin gave an embarrassed smile, his arm wrapped tight around the woman’s shoulders.

"No, no um,” Mithian was feeling equally awkward. The other woman smiled at her so warmly though that she couldn’t help but stay. “Would you introduce us?” she finally asked. 

“Oh uh yes. Mother this is-” he paused and corrected himself. “Princess Mithian, I’d like you to meet my mother Hunith of Ealdor. Mother, this is Mithian, Princess of Nemeth.”

If Hunith made the proper salutation Mithian missed it, too busy processing the word mother coming out of Merlin’s mouth. Only ever having seen him in his role devoted to Arthur and his friends, it had, rather foolishly, never occurred to her that he might have a family as well. Parents, brothers and sisters perhaps. She wondered how often he got to see them. The joy and tenderness of the exchange she’s just seen clearly implied it had been some time since he and his mother had been together. 

That realization is followed by a pang of guilt and sorrow at the thought that, if anything happened to Merlin it would leave more than a group of friends in a world of despair. Not to mention that his family will be impacted - for good or bad - by all the things that are changing. She can only imagine the relief this woman must be feeling at the thought that her son will no longer have to live everyday in fear for his life. 

A subtle clearing of a throat brought her back to the present and she blushed at having been caught staring. Falling back on years of court training she straightened and approached with a polite smile.

“My apologies, I don’t know what came over me. I’m very pleased to meet you Hunith.”

“The pleasure is mine Princess,” Hunith answered kindly, no judgement or amusement in her voice. She didn’t seem overawed or even openly curious at meeting a princess like so many others Mithian has met. Although perhaps her son’s daily brushing shoulders with royalty has taken some of the novelty out of it for her. Either way Mithian already knew this was a woman she wanted more time with.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone.” She told mother and son before any more awkward things can happen. “Will I see you at the feast tomorrow Hunith?”

“Feast?” Hunith asked quizzically.

“It’s an informal gathering, just a short official welcome for the entourage of the other kingdoms,” Merlin answers. “You know what, I’ll fill you in in a bit. Arthur heard you were coming for a visit, so he said you were welcome to join us as my guest if you got here in time.”

“Oh please do,” Mithian encouraged. “I can’t promise you’ll enjoy it, but these sorts of events need as many friendly faces in attendance as possible. I think your son might say the same.” 

“She’s right Mother.” Merlin gave the older women a pleading look which she raised a confused eyebrow at. 

“I suppose.. I’ll be there?” A lost looking Hunith agreed after a moment.

Mithian nodded in acknowledgement “I look forward to it. Until then.”

With one last smile the princess turned back toward her chambers leaving a ridiculously happy warlock and a slightly bewildered village woman standing in the middle of the hallway. 

Chapter Text

“Did your mother settle in well enough?”

“Yes she’s fine. Gwen helped her spruce up one of her dresses last night so hopefully she won’t feel quite so out of place today.”

“She’s coming?”

“You said she could!” 

"Yes of course. She’s welcome always. I just had my doubts you’d be able to convince her of that fact.”

Merlin glanced away. “I think Mithian may have had something to do with that. I was walking her back to her room when Mother found us. Mithian seemed to like her and said she wanted to see her at the gathering. Speaking of Mithian..” his voice grew annoyed and Arthur sighed.

“I’m not going to like this am I?”

“No more than I do. She has not only figured out I can use magic, but she’s gotten it into her head that I’m one of if not the primary reason you’re fighting for it’s return, and, hang on there’s more, and that because sooner or later everyone is going to know that, I’m now quite possibly the bravest man she’s ever met.”

Hiding the nervous tremor that thought gave him Arthur forced a smirk. “Most men would be pleased as punch to hear a beautiful woman saying such things about them.” 

Merlin colored slightly but didn’t rise to the bait. “Admittedly I’ve always found her to be one of the few royals to actually have something in the brains department but if she figured out my magic this soon it’s only a matter of time before some of the others do too.”

“And why is that a problem?” There were plenty of potential reasons but Arthur needed to know which one his friend had fixated on first. 

“Because these people respect you. What happens when they figure out you’ve had a sorcerer at your side for years and yet you’ve kept magic outlawed? If you claim you knew about me you’ll look like a hypocrite and a murder. And if you admit you didn’t, you’ll look like a blind fool. At best. Either scenario leaves the way open for the accusation you’re nothing but a puppet king. No one wants a puppet for an ally.”

Arthur blinked hard. Merlin must have used a different polish on his chainmail this morning. The king wished he’d hadn’t, the stuff was making his eyes burn. Taking a deep breath he braced himself for one of those emotional moments he was horrified to find himself getting used to. 

“Merlin, from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate your loyalty. God only knows what I’ve done to deserve it. But the fact of the matter is I have been a blind fool. And a funny thing happens when a person is able to admit something like that to themselves, you know what it is? You find it doesn’t offend you so much if someone else thinks it too.”

Merlin scoffed. 

“Look at me.” Arthur grasped his friend’s shoulders and waited till their eyes met. “Listen to me very carefully because I’m only going to say this once. Times you saved my life aside I.. we are only where we are now because of what you have done. Why is it you can devote your whole life to ensuring I have what I need and I’m not allowed to do the same for you?”

“I don’t need anything, I’m happy-”

“You are content. That’s not the same. As for you saying I shouldn’t repeal the ban because of you, Merlin I stopped being a bully because of you. I learned respect was something I had to earn as a person not just as a prince because of you. I have friends I would never have had, knights that chose to follow me solely based on your faith. Even Guinevere. She never could have loved the man I was before I met you and when we were..” he cleared his throat noisily, “ separated, you were the one who kept her safe and refused to let me forget my love for her. 

“The freedom to be honest about who you really are, to show us the truth both about magic and about what men should be for each other, is a poor reward for all of that. But I know it’s all you’ve ever wanted. So I don’t care who opposes me, or how long it takes, I am going to give that to you. And if a hundred other people, a thousand other people benefit too then so much the better.”

Silence reigned for an unnaturally long period of time. At last Arthur cleared his throat. 

“Well if I’d known this was all it took to render you speechless I would have said it years ago.”

“I had no idea.”

“Neither did I, and it’s not like I never had the opportunity. You talk non-stop, I could have-”

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Arthur’s teasing look faded. “I know. And I am sorry for that. It shouldn’t have taken someone else’s pointing it out for you to know what you mean to me.”

“This is still going to be a problem.” 

“One that we will solve together. You might stop to consider this worry could be for nothing.”

“Name me a time my worrying was ever for nothing.”

“You worried your friends would hate you once they learned of your magic.” Arthur said with the air of someone thinking they’ve won an argument.

  Merlin tilted his head. “There are too many I could say to that and believe me you do not want to hear them. Let’s go. Can’t have these people seeing you arrive late to your own breakfast.”

“You’ve made your own way. Despite what those who came before you believed, these are your people. You must think for yourself and do what you feel is right for them. It was much as you did when you chose not to accept the marriage arranged between you and my daughter.”

Arthur smiled faintly. “You are very forgiving Lord Godwin. Elena even more so. That decision nearly incited a war all the same.” 

“How so? You had to have known neither of us bore you any ill will.”

“I’m referring to my father. He wasn’t exactly pleased that I put my personal feelings ahead establishing a stronger alliance.”

“Alliances are only as strong as the hearts of those who forge them. And an unhappy marriage does not breed a strong heart. You and Elena are far happier and far better placed to become great rulers for making your own decisions on who you shall be by your side as you do so.” 

“An unhappy king does not make for a stronger kingdom. Merlin said the same thing to me at the time.”

“Merlin?”

Arthur nodded across the room to where the man in question was juggling keeping King Rodor and Prince Drystan’s beverages full while attempting to not lose sight of Godwin’s grandson. Prince Lofric seemed to have decided that the king’s manservant was an acceptable substitute for the nurse he obviously escaped from at some point during the morning, and had been hounding him for attention. 

“Very wise for someone so young. He appears to have made himself indispensable in a number of ways.” There was a suggestion of an inquiry behind those words but Arthur merely smiled.

“That’s for him to tell not me.”

“I shall be pleased to hear what he has to say.” 

“I’m sure you will. Shall we?” At Godwin’s nod they continued to circle the room. 

“My husband recognized the strength magic provided but he was reluctant to give over more control than he had to.”

Guinevere eyed her fellow queen cautiously. “And you?” 

“I see the wisdom in supporting and acknowledging those who have knowledge and power beyond her understanding. Six of my twelve senior advisors can use it, to one degree or another. One of them is even from a descendant of the ancient order known as Dragonlords.”

“There’s another Dragonlord? 

Annis turned to the other woman standing with them, surprised but unperturbed by the interruption. “No, regrettably he is not one himself.” She answered graciously. “The power is passed from father to the eldest son of the family, which he is not. However he has knowledge of them which has proved invaluable. Why do you ask?”

Hunith managed an uncomfortable smile, fighting not to let her gaze seek out her son. “I met one once, many years ago. He believed himself to be the last of his kind. I’ve always carried a hope that he was wrong.”

The queen’s green eyes gleamed curiously. “I’ve received no confirmation that all the Dragonlords are dead. However their culture lives on. That is all the solace I can offer you.”  

Hunith couldn’t bring herself to answer and after a few heartbeats Annis continued with her original thought. “My point is, I’m pleased to provide whatever support you and King Arthur may need in reviewing your policies. In all my encounters with your husband he has proven to be an excellent strategist. With the proper cooperation a mutually beneficial agreement should be able to be enacted within short order.”

“It is good to hear my confidence is shared, Your Highness. I am sure your council will prove to be valuable to all involved.”

“I want to hear at least one positive thing you gleaned from our gathering this morning.” Arthur tossed out the question much later that afternoon.

Merlin blinked quizzically. “You don’t normally ask things like that.” 

The king arched a brow. “Humor me.”

“Every minute of every day.”

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” The dark haired man tossed the clothes he was folding onto the other side of the bench and sat down. “My mother said Annis seems in full support of magic’s regaining a footing in Camelot.”

“Guinevere said the same. She also said she knows something about the dragonlords.”

“Yeah.”

“Might be worth pursuing. Discreetly of course.”

Merlin pressed a hand to his shirt, over the place where Arthur knew the memory crystal Geoffrey had given him hung from his neck. They hadn’t talked about it much but the king far from begrudged his friend’s miniscule connection with his father’s past. If anything he was slightly envious. 

“I’ll be something that inclines her to agreeing to a full alliance down the road if nothing else.”

The phrasing of that statement drew a frown from Arthur. “I’d never use your power as a bargaining chip, you know that right?”

Merlin looked up at him, eyes wide. “That’s not what I meant! I was just thinking in terms of things our kingdoms more or less have in common. I trust you Arthur.”  

“I...right. Good. How long until the next meeting again?”

“Just over an hour.”

“Right. My papers are organized?”

“Unless you messed them up.”

“Alright go spend a little time with your mother. I’ll have Gwaine fetch you when it’s time to go.”

Never one to question free time Merlin quickly got to his feet. “Thank you by the way.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We’ve got a long way to go.”

“I know.” Merlin gave that wise little smile. “But we have a chance now. And that’s more than I’ve wanted for a long time.”

Chapter Text

Whoever had created the law that things could only go smoothly for so long needed, in Merlin’s opinion, a swift kick in the seat of their trousers.  

The day had started out well enough with each of the kingdom's rulers giving a summary of their basic policies on magic for the general population, what roles (if any) those with magic played in their circle of advisors, and what limitations they imposed on the influence said advisors had. 

Then Alined had to open his mouth. Within minutes it became clear that the man was paranoid, power hungry, and just overall despicable. All the restrictions put on known magic users in his kingdom - including where they lived, when they traveled, even who they married - had the warlock clenching his jaw so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn’t burst into shards. For that matter, it was a wonder the mad king’s skull didn’t do the same. 

The only relief came from the fact he wasn’t the only one infuriated by the arrangement. 

“What possible benefit comes from treating your people as slaves?” Rodor asked, when his contemporary finally stopped to draw breath. The Nemethian king’s face was a perfect mask but Merlin could hear the edge to his voice. Mithian glanced at him quickly, a flash of worry in her eyes.

“Sorcerers are men and women much like ourselves. Leave them to their own devices and who knows where their ambitions will take them. This arrangement is very simple, I keep my throne and they keep their heads. I fail to see what is objectionable about that.”

“You’d fail to see the nose on your face with that attitude.”

Merlin kept a frown back with an effort. He appreciated King Rodor’s willingness to speak up but Alined was a warmonger. The last thing the warlock wanted was a small, still recovering,  kingdom like Nemeth to come within his line of fire. 

Alined paused before responding, his eyes sweeping the room. If nothing else the creep was shrewd, Merlin thought. He seemed to be aware of the tension his fellow ruler’s words had generated - and that any resulting argument would not be weighted in his favor. 

“You rule your kingdom, I rule mine,” He finally said. “If you wish to observe how I’ve managed to maintain my prosperity and the loyalty of my people, I would welcome your attendance at my castle at your earliest convenience. I’d welcome your daughter’s sooner than that.”

Mithian blanched and Merlin found himself clenching his fists under the table. How dare that sick-  

“Such an offer can be talked over among yourselves at a later time,” Arthur cut in. “I have to ask that we keep this discussion to the topic at hand.” Gwen leaned over and whispered something to him. “I agree. My queen has raised the point that we are approaching midday. I move that we adjourn until later this afternoon.”

The others murmured their agreement and began to rise.

“Our kitchen has prepared meals for all of you.” Guinevere announced. “You may have them delivered to your chambers or packed if you wish to enjoy your refreshments outside.”

“My wife and I will do the latter.” Prince Drystan told her. “If my family could also request a tour of the city afterwards? I’ve never had occasion to visit Camelot before, I would enjoy seeing more of it.”

Arthur nodded. “Of course. Merlin would you...Merlin?”

The warlock brought his attention back to his king with an effort. “Apologies My Lord, what?”

Elena laughed apologetically, “King Arthur was just requesting you continue to subject yourself to my son’s antics this afternoon. It’s quite unnecessary. We can manage alone.”

Merlin shrugged with a faint smile. “I don’t mind accompanying you, Your Highness. You would be safer with someone who knows the city well. And your son’s antics as you put them are a nice change of pace. Children’s needs are refreshingly uncomplicated.” 

He could see Arthur’s brow start to pucker but the princess merely laughed again. “You won’t be saying that when he’s made your ears bleed with his constant chatter but if you insist...” 

“On your head be it,” her husband finished.

“The construction of your outer walls is remarkably well done. Camelot’s stonemasons are to be commended.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

The prince flushed. “Just Drystan please. If anyone deserves a title it’s you.”

Merlin’s expression grew guarded before he could stop it. “Why is that?”

Drystan blinked at him curiously. He slowed his step behind his wife and son and spoke in a low tone. “My Lord I will admit to having fallen out of practice with my craft but I sensed your presence in the city the moment we arrived. If you wish me to remain silent as to your identity I will, but I...just know I will do whatever is necessary to aid you in this trial, and any that may come.” 

The dark haired warlock’s face burned fiercely. “My people are closer to attaining safety and respect than they have been since before I was born. Why would you consider this a trial?”

The brunette prince frowned. “My lord,” he murmured, “have you really no qualms about the role you are playing? Emrys was meant both to serve and to lead. To be trapped in a role where nearly everyone looks at you as secondary, or doesn’t look at you at all, it can’t be easy. Why do you live like this? I ask only to understand, not to criticize.” 

Merlin licked his lips thoughtfully. “I’m not sure if I can quite explain how I feel. My mother understood,” he added as if to himself, “but then she understands everything.”

“I will endeavor to do as she has.”

“I won’t lie, it has taken me a long time to be comfortable in my position. But it’s allowed me to do what needs to be done, to remain at the side of the Once and Future King - without having to maintain an illusion of being something that I’m not.” 

They walked several moments in silence before he continued. “Truthfully everyone’s trapped by something. You don’t know how many farmers I’ve met who wish they were nobles. Or how many nobles I’ve met who wish they were farmers. Even if I’m not in what one might call an appealing role, it’s the one I have chosen. That’s a great deal more comforting than you might expect.” 

“Ah, I begin to see. My wife said much the same thing to me when we were contemplating marriage.”

Now it was Merlin’s turn to question. “Forgive me, you weren’t in love?”

“We were more than halfway there,” Drystan answered, “but you could still argue we married for the sake of an alliance. The night our betrothal was announced Elena confided in me that her father’s council had been pressuring her father to declare her unfit to choose a suitor. That would have given them leave to put forth anyone whom they choose as a match, and should they manage to convince her father of his suitability then she would have no hope of objecting.”

“Well that takes my disgust with arranged marriages to a whole new level.” 

“Indeed. Both of us would have liked more time to court, but we could see the figurative storms on the horizon and knew we would be far happier facing them united than apart. She was sure that if we were patient enough, we could take a situation that neither of us were sure we wanted and turn it to our advantage. That in a way we were lucky. We may have to obey, but we could choose how we did it. Is that near enough to what you are trying to convey?”

Merlin nodded thoughtfully. “I would say so. Although I suppose I have a bit more freedom on my side than I thought I did. Arthur at least knows better than to try to force me to marry.”

The prince chuckled. “It’s probably not my place to say, but should you decide to seek a lifelong partner I am certain a suitable woman would appear before you knew it.” 

“A lot he knows,” Merlin grumbled, tossing another stick. Aithusa launched a tiny stream of fire into the air to set it alight. “For that matter a lot I know. Lucky enough to choose my own prison. Indeed.”

“Well you have.”

“Yeah I suppose. Though it’s one thing to know something and another to say it aloud. You understand?”

“No. I don’t speak aloud.” 

Merlin frowned at the little dragon who cheerfully ignored his annoyance, pouncing on another lit stick to put it out. “I’m not regretting my choice. But how much of it was really a choice?”

Aithusa paused his game and swerved his head around to look him in the eye. “Same amount as every day. You stay, it is your choice. You leave, it is your choice. Stay or go, only you decide which is right.” 

“Arthur needs my help.”

“Yes but you choose not to ignore that. His needs are not your needs unless you choose to make them so. Despite what the old one says, you are free to walk away.”

Merlin nodded. “True enough. You know you make a lot more sense than Kilgharrah does.”

“I’m the product of a different time.” 

Ignoring the self-recommending attitude in Aithusa’s voice, the dragonlord got to his feet. “Well whatever I experience here, it’s better than what my people suffer in Alined’s kingdom.”

The dragon growled subtly and his lord rubbed a soothing hand across his scaly head. “Which one is this Alined anyway?”

“And just what are you going to do to him if I tell you?”

“Nothing that can be proven.”

“Tall, grey-haired, looks like he hasn’t been able to use a chamber pot in a month.” Merlin described, laughing despite himself. 

“They all look like that.”

“He wears the blue and purple insignia on his chainmail.” 

“Oh that stuffed shirt, got it.”

Spitting out the water he’d just sipped, Merlin stared at the dragon wide-eyed. “Who taught you that word?”

“Gwaine,” Aithusa answered, blinking at him innocently. “Why? Is it bad?”

“Well...It’s not nice, let’s just put it that way. Don’t let anyone else catch you saying it.”

Aithusa tilted his head quizzically. “No one else can hear me.”

“Are you going to make that joke every time?”

“Merlin, if you keep standing out in the middle of the woods talking to yourself, I’m going to start thinking Arthur’s onto something when he says you’ve lost your mind.” 

The warlock tensed at the sound of a feminine voice behind him. He all but froze when he heard the laughter it prompted from another one. Turning stiffly he took in the sight of his queen and best friend who’d clearly decided to play tour guide to two other members of female royalty. 

The red-haired queen and brunette princess were smiling benevolently at their hostess, who was gazing at Merlin with a look of teasing affection. That promptly faded to horror when she caught sight of the other occupant of the clearing they’d ridden into. 

The curse that escaped Guinevere’s lips would have done any knight proud.

Chapter Text

Four pairs of eyes blinked at the queen of Camelot with varying levels of astonishment and, in the case of two, more than a hint of amusement. 

Aithusa, being the first to get over his surprise, nudged Merlin’s leg with his snout. He snorted mulishly when the urge for attention was ignored, but after taking in his lord’s set jaw and panicked gaze didn’t press the issue. Instead he sat upright, tucked his wings and tail gracefully around himself, and let out a friendly chirp of greeting in Gwen’s direction. 

The woman having recovered an approximation of her regal bearing nodded at him in return. “Hello Aithusa.” Turning her gaze to the anxious human next, she added. “Please forgive the intrusion Merlin. I was not aware the two of you were meeting here today.”

“It wasn’t anything official, Your Highness,” Merlin replied, miraculously falling in with her tone. “I summoned him for counsel on a personal matter.”

“Summoned? I was here first.”   

“Hush you!”

“We didn’t say anything.” Mithian whispered, confusion on her face. 

“He was talking to the dragon.” Gwen reassured her. 

“How-”

Mithian’s question was cut off by the sound of laughter coming from Gwynedd’s queen. 

“Are you alright?” a befuddled Gwen asked her.

“Ahem, yes. Please excuse me.” Annis smoothed out her expression, eyeing Merlin curiously. “I was merely thinking what a good diplomat your mother would make. She outright told me she’d been on close terms with a Dragonlord and the implication bypassed me completely. He was your father wasn’t he?”

Merlin stared in her direction for an unnerving long time before finally nodding. 

“You’re a dragonlord?!” Mithian’s eyes narrowed, the addition of “ and you didn’t tell me? ” unspoken but heard loud and clear anyways.

“It didn’t come up.” Merlin retorted sourly. 

Aithusa nudged Merlin’s leg, eyes fixed on the younger of the two visiting women. “She’s not as unattractive as the others.” 

“You breathe one more word on that subject and I’m not feeding you for a year!”

The dragon huffed. “You could at least let me say hello,” he grumbled, sounding more like a seven year old than Merlin had ever heard him be.  

“Can you wield magic as well?” Annis spoke up, either oblivious to the silent argument between dragon and dragonlord or choosing to ignore it. 

“I’m an apprentice physician. I’ve learned all that’s needed to aid in that work.”

The queen’s eyes gleamed. “Servant, Physician, Dragonlord, those are a lot of roles for one person.”

Merlin gave her a sardonic smile. “Good thing this fool knows how to juggle then, isn’t it?”   

Poor Gwen looked about ready to faint. 

“Would it be against any rules I’m not aware of to ask to be introduced?” Mithian interjected smoothly. 

“Are you going to behave?” Merlin asked, staring down Aithusa who blinked back at him unperturbed. 

After giving his species’ approximation of a shrug the dragon looked between the visitors and his lord a very obvious ‘get on with it’ expression on his face. Giving his charge one last glare, Merlin cleared his throat. 

“Aithusa this is Queen Annis of Gwynedd and Princess Mithian of Nemath. Your Highnesses, the dragon Aithusa.”  

Both women inclined their heads, a gesture Aithusa repeated after another irritated look from Merlin. 

“It’s an honor to meet you Aithusa.” 

All but preening under the princess’ admiring gaze the white dragon gave a series of happy chirps and trills making Mithian grin unabashedly. 

“He said thank you.” Merlin translated. 

“I said more than that!”

“I’m not repeating the rest.”

“Can he not speak?” Annis asked curiously. Aithusa’s grunt in response was definitely not getting translated. Merlin made a mental note to strictly supervise anyone who came near the dragon in the future.  

“He’s not old enough to use our language yet. However he can understand it just fine. Too well at times.”  

Aithusa, taking the attitude the young sometimes do, decided he’d had enough of this kind of attention and nudged Merlin again. 

“Yes?” The dragonlord sighed.

“I’m bored. And hungry.”

“No one’s making you stay here.”

“Okay bye.”

Spreading his wings Aithusa launched himself up and sped off into the distance. 

“He said goodbye.” Merlin offered. “Now would you be so kind as to excuse me as well? I sense a massive headache brewing.”

Understanding the source of that headache likely resolved around a certain husband of hers and the fact that she’d very soon be sharing it, Gwen gave her friend a dismissing nod and hurried her guests back to the castle as quickly as politeness allowed.

“Merlin, there you are. Queen Annis is requesting to speak with you and Arthur in the council room.”

The warlock let out a groan. He’d managed to avoid both of the aforementioned for a full twenty-four hours but it seemed that was all he was going to get. 

“You told Arthur what happened?”

Gwen nodded. “He took it rather well considering. At least he understood there was nothing that could be done besides answering whatever questions the other kingdoms might have. Although,” she lowered her voice, “be warned, he said he’s going to make you be the one to answer all those questions.”

“Of course he is.”

The queen gave a nervous but encouraging smile and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Best not keep them waiting.”

“You sent for me SIre?”

Arthur’s particular brand of awkward smile brightened a miniscule amount at his friend’s arrival. 

“Yes Merlin. Come and sit down.”

The dark haired man slowly lowered himself into the chair to the king’s left, directly opposite their visitor.  

“Now then, Queen Annis has admitted to having a few questions regarding a previous encounter between our two kingdoms. Your Highness?”

“Yes. I will begin by saying I consider the past to be just that, and the incidents I am making mention of, while they still cause me pain, were and are settled to my satisfaction. The questions I have serve two purposes. The first is simple: to confirm if the suppositions I have formed as to the course of events is correct.” She paused and looked Merlin in the eye. “I don’t doubt by now you are aware of what I am referring to.”

“You want to know how much influence my abilities had over Arthur’s fight with your champion.”

The queen nodded graciously.    

“What have you to say?”

“At the moment nothing.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Ignoring the sharp kick to his ankle Merlin merely shook his head. “Your Highness claims curiosity as a chief cause of this inquiry. But to discuss it openly is to be inviting the revelation of some...uncomfortable decisions made on both sides. As accustomed as the royal lifestyle makes a person to having their every desire attended to, you are intelligent enough to know the risks of truth in this instance are much too great for a mere reward of curiosity satisfied.” 

Years of attendance in court allowed both men to catch the faint twitch in the corner of Annis’ eye. With the air of one deciding if their trump card was the only viable option remaining to them she passed some moments in silence.  

“That encounter has left an indelible stain on my people,” she finally said. “I don’t know if the day will ever come where they will forgive the death of their king. I am fortunate to have been well loved even while he ruled and my council has given their open support to my having found an alternative to open warfare against a stronger opponent, without sacrificing any of my men in order to do it. However, in the eyes of many, neither Camelot nor you King Arthur are absolved of robbing them of their leader and champion.

“I am well aware now of how limited the influence of this summit is.” She raised a hand to cut off Arthur’s protest. “Your interest in how magic forms a part of our daily lives is genuine enough, I believe this. However I also know that interest is strictly focused on the how and not the why. You’ve made up your mind to allow magic’s return. And, while it will very discreetly not be mentioned during our present visit, all kingdoms Camelot’s policies have formerly prevented her from forming an alliance with will be contacted within the coming months to open negotiation for that very action.”

“You fear such an alliance would be against the wishes of your subjects.” Arthur observed. 

“I don’t fear. I know.” Annis replied. “Therefore, if it were my decision to pursue such a course, it would be my duty to assure them the benefits of an alliance outweigh the negatives.”

“Forgive me if I’m slow, but what does my alleged interference in Arthur’s fight have to do with an alliance between your two kingdoms?”

A personal claim on the king but not the kingdom. Interesting. Annis frowned slightly. “At the risk of stating the obvious, Gwynedd has always respected strength above all else. Strength is a quality that can take various forms. I believe in you Merlin there is a strength unique to this world. It is not often a person can be successful at valuing one life above all others and not have it lead to complete disaster.”

“More by luck than by design.”

She tipped her head in acknowledgement. “Perhaps when you reach my age you’ll understand how often the two intertwine. That fact however, along with the not insignificant detail that you are, perhaps, the last living Dragonlord in existence, lead me to believe that perhaps the difficulties in arranging an agreement between our nations would be worth it. If I could be sure of Camelot’s assurance of equality in all parties' access to available resources.” 

Both men absorbed this in silence. Annis waited patiently, cognizant of a level of communication between the two forged by a closeness she both admired and envied. Arthur resigned from the conversation sooner than she expected, leaving the decision up to his...Ally? Advisor? Brother? An unusual move but she was relatively confident of the outcome. The son of Uther Pendragon would not allow one man’s opinion to put him off a decision that was in the best interests of his people. Raw power aside, the slim young man in front of her had not reached his thirtieth year, and he’d spent close to half of those years in Camelot. She had access to more magical resources than he could dream of. A mutually satisfying arrangement would be easy once one or two facts had been accepted. Without getting ahead of herself, perhaps he’d even come to prefer the environment of her lands to the one currently surrounding him.  

“I would not admit this to just anyone,” Merlin finally spoke, his smile just a shade more unpleasant. “But I have serious doubts that the concept of equality is something anyone can truly understand. We all have advantages and disadvantages alien to those around us. However, what you must understand is that I have never, and will never, use my power to give an advantage or disadvantage - to anyone - without honestly believing it is the only course of action available to me. To do otherwise would be to insult the skill of those around me and invite a feeling of authority unto myself that…” He shook his head. “Magic doesn’t corrupt but power does. Have I taken advantage of mine in situations I shouldn’t have, certainly, and I’ve paid for it every single time. I won’t make that mistake again. My beliefs cannot be bought nor can they be coerced. So if you’re thinking of using my existence as a bargaining chip with your councilors, don’t.”  

Thrown just a little, Annis tilted her head slightly. “What exactly are you implying?” 

Arthur smiled at her question. “People are not tools, Your Highness. Merlin’s power is not subject to any kingdom’s whim. As a ruler with dragonlord’s kin as your advisor, surely you know they were not court puppets, in name or in fact. Whatever arrangement our kingdoms come to, neither He nor the dragons will be a factor in it. Merlin’s loyalty as a man is to myself. As a leader of magic it is to Albion. No more, no less.” He tossed a look of appreciation and pride at his friend. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“How’d it go?”

“As first demands on my power are concerned it was…”

“Almost straightforward,” Arthur finished.  

“We knew it would happen eventually.” Gwen attempted to console, noting Merlin’s frown and pursed lips. 

“Oh yes.” He answered almost absently. 

“Are you alright?”

“Possibly.” Merlin leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. When he spoke his words were directed to the breakfast room windows. “Have you ever wanted to do something that sounds reasonable enough in your head but that you know is going to create so many headaches you’ll forever regret the moment you opened your mouth?”

King and queen shared an amused, if nervous, glance. “Having known each other this long the answer to that is obvious. Come on, let’s have it.”

Merlin’s eyes slowly wandered over to meet theirs. “I think it might be in the best interests of everyone to,” he swallowed, “to make my being a dragonlord known to all the kingdom’s leaders that are here.”

Arthur nodded slowly. “Considering we’re already halfway there that would probably be prudent. Do you think Aithusa would be willing to be introduced?”

“Is that a good idea?” his wife interjected. “I mean Annis and Mithian meant no harm to him but the others…”

“I’d like to see them try to lay a finger on him.” A moment’s pause softened Merlin’s tone. “It’s a risk. But as you’ve both pointed out, some of them already know, and I’d rather the rest find out in circumstances I can control.”

“I agree.” Arthur put on his best superior smirk. “Besides, the knights of Camelot are more than capable of protecting one dragon.”

“Ah, but can they protect two?” 

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”

“So you’ve said. Repeatedly.”

“If you’d asked-”

“I did-”

“Only after the fact.”

“That’s not how I see it.”

“How you see it is foolish.”

“Excuse me?”

“Obviously you’ve never-”

“Children!” 

The queen’s hiss silenced the debate. It would be resumed in the near future, she had no doubt but even a few minutes of quiet would be a blessed relief. Her head already felt like it was being squeezed between two of Gaius’ medical volumes and the squabbling between her husband and her, she might as well call him her brother at this point, was only making the ache worse.     

Right on time the small group of royal guests, plus knights began to assemble themselves at the edge of the clearing near the three of them. Once they were all settled Arthur stepped forward. 

“Thank you all for coming. We’ve made tremendous progress this past week and I am hopeful that in time we can reach an accord that will lead to a permanent peace between all our kingdoms. However there is one other party whose concerns must be taken into account in whatever agreement is reached. And as it is not fair to ask you to concede to the wishes of any person or persons you haven’t met, I wish to take this opportunity to introduce you to them now. 

He nodded to Merlin who closed his eyes momentarily then nodded back. 

Royalty tended to train a person out of tapping feet and twiddling thumbs but it wasn’t long before their guest’s polite attention escalated into uncertainty, and then to impatience the longer they waited. 

“Is this your idea of a joke? Because I have-”

Alined’s disgruntled utterance was cut off by the whooshing sound of vast amounts of air being displaced.  A great shadow passed over the clearing drawing many a curious eye upward. 

Both dragons landed to a chorus of muttered oaths and audible swallowing. Even those aware of Aithusa’s existence, Merlin noted, were more than a little uneasy with Kilgharrah’s appearance.

After some minutes of strained silence a quiet “Wooooow” rang out.

Lofric, the source of the exclamation, was staring at their new companions with unrestrained awe. “Mama, Papa, look. It’s dragons!”

Unable to take his eyes off the creature, the little prince nonetheless got Merlin’s attention. “Are they really real dragons?”

“They are real dragons.”

“You’re so biiiggg.” This was addressed to Kilgharrah.

“I am nearly 1,000 years old.” The dragon answered, in a tone that could almost be called kind. 

“Oh. I’m three.” Lofric told him, emphasizing the fact by holding up the matching number of fingers. “How old are you?” He asked Aithusa. 

The white dragon cocked his head. Shifting his weight to his back legs he lifted his front up, looking at his claws. Seemingly dissatisfied, he turned his head to chirp at Merlin, who shrugged.

“Don’t look at me, it’s not my fault you only have six of them.” The dragon whined, prompting an eye roll from his lord who moved to stand next to him. He raised one finger and placed it next to the Aithusa’s paws. “He’s seven, you see?” Merlin told Lofric who grinned at them in return. 

“Such a child,” Merlin grumbled, returning to Arthur’s side.       

“He’s an adorable child,” Gwen commented.

“That’s a matter of opinion, Young Queen.” Kilgharrah informed her. Anything else he was going to say was cut off by a startled growl when Aithusa nipped his wing. The younger dragon growled in return and playfully pounced at his legs.     

Merlin rolled his eyes again but was somewhat pleased to see several smiles break out on their companions' faces at the little one’s antics. 

“How long have you known of these dragon’s existence, King Arthur.” Rodor finally spoke up.

“The Grea- er Kilgharrah, was imprisoned beneath the castle for the majority of my life. He was revealed to me upon his escape about ten years ago. Merlin has been aware of Aithusa’s existence since his hatching and brought him to my attention at the beginning of this year.”  

“I see. A dragon hatchling is a rare and precious find. May I ask just where you managed to locate this one?” 

“I rescued His egg from a thief who’d tracked its location to the Tomb of Ashkanar in Escetir.” A faint smile touched Merlin’s lips. “He hatched right over there.”

 Rodor glanced over his shoulder at the stump he gestured too. Aithusa let out a happy chirp and nuzzled Merlin’s side.  

"I cannot believe this.” Alined burst out. 

“Cannot believe what My Lord?”

“Is not a dragonlord required to call a dragon from an egg?”

“Yes they are.”

“Did not Uther slaughter all known dragonlords in the five kingdoms?”

“Clearly not.” Rodor muttered. 

“Alined,” Queen Annis addressed the clearly out of the loop king. “Succession for dragonlords is no different than that of kings. Even if the last one known to exist had met his death by Uther’s hand, he need only have sired a son. Even if the child had not been born at the time of the father’s death, the power would still hold sway over any dragon around.”

“So there might be dragonlords around who are quite young?”

Annis glanced at the dark haired man currently picking at his nail beds in an attempt to feign indifference. “I’d say there is at least one who is no more than twenty-?”

“Nine come the new year.”  

“There, twenty-nine. Plenty of years ahead of him to see to it whatever arrangement our kingdoms wish to reach with these dragons will be abided by. At least on their end.” 

“This is highly-”

“Can I sit on your back?”

Lofric - who’d clearly had enough of this conversation - was staring up at Kilgharrah, a mix of happiness and pleading in his big brown eyes. Merlin could never have resisted had they been aimed at him, but Kilgharrah being, well, Kilgharrah, the dragon merely sighed and shook his head. 

“I am not a horse little one. Besides, given our difference in size, I fear there would be no way of keeping you secure. I’ve no wish for you to be injured.”   

“But-”

“You need to listen,” Drystan admonished his son. “The dragon.. Kilgharrah was it? He’s trying to keep you from getting hurt.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me!”

“Not on purpose no, but accidents happen.”

“He is wise enough to know his limits,” Elena added. “We all need to be too.”

“Speaking of limits.” Arthur murmured, catching his best friend’s eye and silently signaling to where their other young charge had slipped off to.  

“ Aithusa! ” Merlin hissed at the dragon, who paused in his stalking of Alined’s cape and chirped at him innocently.   

Unfortunately the sound did not pass unnoticed by the king in question. Letting out a regal yelp he fumbled with the knife at his belt, finally getting enough of a grip to point it at the dragon.  

Kilgharrah let out an earthshaking snarl that Merlin quickly threw up a hand to quiet. The entire assembly held a collective breath, but far from being frightened Aithusa was positively beaming. Chirping a tune he snatched the weapon from the king’s trembling fingers, clutching it tightly between his teeth. 

“Drop that now.” Kilgharrah quickly told him.

The smaller dragon let out a whine that was very nearly a “Why?” in clear speech. 

“You don’t know where it’s been.” Was the helpful reply. 

Aithusa immediately spat the knife out on the grass, then tipped his head back and gargled a mouthful of flames. 

“Get over here mikros,” Merlin sighed. “Aithusa,” he repeated, the very slightest growl slipping into the name. 

With a pout and a disgruntled bark at the offending king the little beast clomped back across the field, taking refuge beneath his elder brethren who, uncharacteristically, didn’t fuss about the act. 

“Forgive me for not asking the extent of everyone’s knowledge beforehand, Your Highness. You see, the dragon race is very...well, shall we say they tend to think everything belongs to them. Particularly when they’re young. Holding an object out to one must only be done with the understanding you likely won’t be getting it back. Food, knives, fingers. They aren’t discriminatory.” Seeing the king pale, the warlock pasted on a consoling smile. “I promise it isn’t malicious. He genuinely thought you were giving him a gift. If it helps, such an act is seen as an offer of friendship.” 

Ignoring the amused snorts from behind him Merlin turned and offered his hand to Lofric. “Would you like to say hello?” 

“Yes please,” the boy answered, grasping his fingers eagerly. 

“That’s quite an introduction to authority. And one you’d only just learned existed at that.”

“It was...an experience. But I can hardly claim to be the first person to face such a situation.”

King Rodor’s lips quirked in a smile much like his daughter’s. “Has anyone told you you’re too modest?”

Merlin shrugged. “Peasant mentality.”

The smile became a chuckle. “You know as well as I do that circumstances of birth do very little to shape most men’s view of themselves.”

“Most men weren’t raised by my mother.” 

Rodor made a faint noise of dismay. “I never did meet her while she was here. Mithian spoke highly of her.”

“Please give the princess my thanks.”

“Tell her yourself young man. You speak to her enough.”

Merlin flushed. “I mean no disrespect-”

“Tut, tut, I meant nothing by it. I lost influence over my daughter’s choice of friends when she was eight. Fortunately for me she has good taste. You’ve been a valuable safeguard for her during her times in Camelot and as a father I owe you my gratitude. She may not be my heir but she is no less valued for that fact.”  

Merlin merely nodded, absorbed in tapping a tune on the tabletop.

“Well if you’ll excuse-”

“I want to write to her.”

Rodor blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“With your permission of course. The two of you have already given me a great deal of encouragement when it comes to exploring the depth of my heritage. I wish to learn everything I can but for now my duties forbade me from leaving Camelot, and as you might suppose resources here are limited. I would gladly communicate with anyone in your kingdom who can be of aid in teaching me, of course. But as you pointed out, the princess is, after all, already my friend.”

Merlin really wasn’t a nervous person by nature but the king was silent for so long rivulets of sweat began to crawl their way down his back. 

“I will give my consent on two conditions: That you never write her a word that could not be read in front of the entire court. And two, that you make a point of visiting at the first available opportunity.”

The warlock frowned slightly. “I understand the first, no question. But may I ask the reasoning behind the second?”

“Because my daughter has been known to become absorbed in perfecting even the most minute details of a project she has set for herself. She has a fairly extensive understanding of dragons and their lore as I myself do. However if she feels it will be for the benefit of someone she is..acquainted with, she will put all her energy into gaining every scrap of knowledge she can get her hands on. That is something I must limit. At this point in time my daughter is still Princess of Nemeth. I cannot afford to allow her to forget that, no matter how beneficial her endeavors. If you truly wish to learn all we can provide on your heritage, you must speak to our experts in person.”

Surprise became relief which quickly transformed into gratitude. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll be very happy to accept your invitation.”

Chapter Text

“Arthur I am sure you have heard this question more times than you can stand, but I must ask: Were we invited here to give advice on a subject you had already made up your mind about?”

Camelot’s king didn’t pretend to misunderstand, and matched the other’s low volume.

“I assure you Lord Godwin, there is no deception in my request for your advice. If the laws governing magic affected Merlin alone then I would have changed them the day I returned healed by his influence. I would see him free without delay. But as the loyal idiot knows and frequently reminds me of, my goal is peace and happiness for all my people. I need to show them that undoing laws that have been in place for 30 years will not mean subjecting them to the cruelty and deceit my sister and many others have exposed them to. Being able to assure them that other kingdoms have a working relationship with magic and have not suffered for it will do a lot to settle their fears. And it might inspire the rest of Albion to follow suit.” 

Godwin gave him a proud smile. “I do wish Uther had not been so blinded by his own pain so as to not see the fine son he had at his side. You are doing right by Camelot Arthur. One day I hope all will heal enough to see that. I cannot say I have always thought well of magic but I do agree that people who are not harmed are unlikely to harm in return. I will do all I can to aid you.”

“Thank you.” Arthur paused. “If I may ask, what is your opinion of Merlin’s involvement?” 

“How do you mean?”

“He carries some...apprehension over what the revelation of his secret could unearth in the form of people’s reactions, to both him and myself. Over what they’ll think regarding his presence in Camelot this whole time.”  

“How long has he been with you?”

“Approximately 10 years.” 

“And you knew of his magic?”

“Regrettably no. He was only able to tell me after the battle of Camlann.”

“And your reaction at the time? It was favorable?”

“Eventually.” 

Godwin nodded, thoughtfully. “Elena kept her husband’s magic a secret until my grandson was born. I knew he was from a tribe that embraced magic but I chose not to seek proof he could wield it. However Lofric’s birth resulted in excessive bleeding and Drystan’s power was the only thing that stopped it before she was lost. I think the reaction to a secret comes a lot from the circumstances. Your, I use the word servant as you have yet to indicate what else he is, your servant’s secret is hardly a secret now. As for what it was before, that is for you to dictate. His concern is admirable, perhaps even appropriate, but in my opinion hardly worthwhile at this point.” 

Arthur allowed a faint smirk. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.”

Godwin smiled back then paused, clearly debating with himself over something. When he spoke his words weren’t at all what Arthur expected.  

“If you’re willing, there’s someone I’d like you to meet before my party leaves tomorrow.”

“Very well. Who is it?”

“An elderly retainer of my house. Been with us since before Elena was born. She was a dear friend of my wife’s and, if I’m not mistaken, of your mother as well.”

Arthur looked up sharply. “She knew my mother?”

Godwin nodded. “I’ll be honest, I do not know what she wishes to say to you, only that she approached my daughter in the week before we left home and requested to be allowed to accompany us to Camelot. But it was a rather excruciating journey for someone in her condition, so whatever she wishes to discuss carries great importance in her mind.”

“Do you trust her?”

“Her…talents have led me to distance myself from her on what you might call a professional level. But off the record, there has been more than one occasion where my household would have been dealt an incalculable blow were it not for her aid. There has never been a hint of danger or malice against my family in all the more than twenty years I have known her.”

Arthur nodded after a moment. “Tell her I’ll send for her an hour before dinner.”     

“It’s right this way.” Merlin’s voice was slightly elevated, whether purposely to tip Arthur off to their approach or just happenstance, either way the king was grateful. Inhaling deeply he stood and wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. 

“Come,” he replied to the respectful knock.

Merlin entered slowly, his arm supporting a trim, slightly frail, looking woman with dark, sun aged skin, clear vision, and hair so faded it was almost colorless. She paid Camelot’s king a small courtesy and he took her hand, slightly surprised by the firm grip she gave in return.  

“Please come, have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet and dignified. Aware of the compliment he was paying her but accepting it with only the required amount of gratitude and no more. 

Merlin hesitated at the door, the ‘You want me to stay?’ clear in his eyes. Arthur gave him a subtle head shake. This was for him to hear. His friend retreated, leaving them alone, although Arthur guessed he wouldn’t stray too far.   

“Well, you know my name obviously. Lord Godwin did not tell me yours.”

“Most call me Aria, Your Highness, though Arianrhod was the name I was given at birth.” 

Arthur paused in the act of pouring a glass of water. “Arianrhod. After the cauldron?”

The woman took in his question, and expression, thoughtfully. “After the goddess of the moon,” she finally answered. She was silent until Arthur took his seat. 

“Let me start by saying that coming to speak to you was something I decided I would do many years before you took the throne. If what I had to say meant the end of me by your father’s hand so be it. In light of recent events, I’m less sure of the outcome but really it’s of no importance. I’m not long for this world as it is. All I ask is that you hear me out.”

“Of course.”

“I have something, it was a gift from your mother.” Arthur watched curiously as she pulled a round, flat object from her pocket and handed it to him. His breath caught in his throat as he spotted the sigil on the top of it.

“Do you recognize this my lord?” the woman asked, peering at him closely. Arthur thought he saw a glimmer of hope in her grey eyes. 

“I do. Where did you get this? My mother…”

“Had them made for several of her friends amongst the magical community. Magic was no issue for her, she respected it, recognized its power for danger as well as good. She decided that being a good queen meant ensuring an equal voice for all peoples within her realm. Therefore she decided to appoint a small number of individuals to be special advisors to the court. Her special advisors. To allow problems to do with magic in the kingdom to be solved with as little disturbance to either community, so to speak. These medallions were gifts for the ones she chose.”

“My father was aware of this?”

“Oh yes, she didn’t hide it from him. I don’t think he ever really approved of the idea but he never bothered us. Not while she lived. He wasn’t… he wasn’t always against magic, My Lord. He knew it could do good but I fear he never truly understood it, to him it solved problems he wanted solved, little more. It was the queen who knew how and why and the consequences that resulted from misusing it. Which brings me to another topic.”

“My birth.” 

Aria sighed, a short regretful sound. “I wasn’t privy to what happened in regards to your parents' quest for a child. I do know that your mother’s health took a sharp decline the longer her pregnancy continued. Then, about a month before you were born, the queen met with each of us individually. I don’t know what she told the others but she ordered me to leave Camelot on what she called a special mission. She said she’d heard of a rare flower that grew only on the far western coast. It was said to have a scent so light and soothing that it could make even the most fractious infant sleep through the night. 

“Now flowers, herbs and the like are not nor have they ever been where my skills excel. There were others among my companions who would have been a much better choice for such an assignment and I said as much to your mother. She always encouraged us to speak our minds. But this time she would hear none of my protests. I was to leave as soon as I’d packed enough for a potentially indefinitely long trip. She encouraged me to leave nothing behind as I would not be returning until I had found what she sought. And even then I was to send her a message telling her I’d been successful before crossing the border back into Camelot.”

She paused but when Arthur didn’t attempt to speak she gave a small, helpless shrug. 

“Hindsight tends to give one perfect clarity. I now see, of course, that Ygraine must have known something was wrong. Whether she knew that her weakness was a sign of a bigger problem or just the norm for the end of a difficult pregnancy as she told everyone who asked, I fear I can’t quite decide. Still she knew enough to fear the possible outcome if one of you two did not survive your birth.” 

Arthur finally found his voice. “Did my father not worry? If she was as bad off as you say then surely…”

“Oh of course he did, My Lord. For all his many faults Uther loved his wife, of that I have no doubt. As I said, your mother was very adept at explaining away causes for concern. And being, if you’ll pardon me, a man, and one with no prior experience in these matters, he had no reason to doubt her words. He did try to urge her to retire from the public eye until after your birth but she refused.” The old woman smiled for the first time. “She truly was the people’s queen. If she did have reason to suspect those weeks were to be her last, she would have wanted to spend them showing them the same love and appreciation they had always given to her.” 

Arthur was quiet again for some time. “How did you escape the purge? How did you not want revenge for my father’s betrayal?”

“Well to begin with, outside of Camelot the purge wasn’t nearly as thorough as Uther wanted to believe, even among his allies. Those of us who made it out, who made ourselves indispensable, or were talented enough to hide just how skilled we were, tended to get by relatively unscathed. We had to be careful of course. It was tacitly understood that if we were ever caught we were on our own.” She shrugged. “I never got caught.  

“As for revenge,” she sighed, “Ygraine was my dear friend. But all lives make an impact on the world. Some of us feel the connection to those lives deeper than others. To purposely remove a person from existing, to rip their life force from the fabric of life itself, it is not something I could ever bring myself to do.” She chuckled a little. “You can ask my husband, I don’t even like it when he smashes the spiders that like to crawl into our kitchen cabinets. And if I despise one thing in this world, it’s spiders. No, I kept to myself. Tried to make a new life and hold onto the hope that a better future would one day exist for my people.” 

Another silence passed before the woman quietly observed, “If I may say so My Lord, you don’t seem very surprised to see my medallion.”

“Oh I’m quite surprised. I’ve had one exactly like it my entire life. I never imagined it was anything but one of a kind.” 

His visitor exhaled deeply. “So it did find its way to you. I could only hope. It was always meant to be yours of course. For you to give out when the time was right.” Seeing Arthur’s questioning look she elaborated. “Had your mother lived, you would have had the magical protection of her court, but once you were of age it would be up to you to choose your own. If you turn it over you’ll see my name written in the old tongue. It was our way of symbolically tying my power to your mother’s service. My pledge to guide and protect her in every way I could. 

“Once you’d chosen your protector, that person’s name would then be bound to the last medallion and it would serve as a symbol to all who saw it. A way for the magical community to feel at ease with giving you their allegiance. Because they knew you honored and respected them in return. Have you found such a person?”

“I…I think so. Forgive me, this is a lot to take in.”

Aria tipped her head in acknowledgement. “No doubt. I’ll leave you now, if you wish, any questions you may have of course I am at your disposal. I’d also understand if you don’t believe everything I’ve told you. No, don’t protest. You would be wise to seek confirmation of my words from another source. I am sure there are still a few in court who can do such a thing. At least one of my compatriots in particular was well known to all who served the king and queen at the time.” She looked at him shrewdly. “I’m certain even you have heard her name.”

A quick knock on the doors to both Gaius chambers and Merlin’s revealed them to be empty. Breathing a sigh of relief Arthur entered the latter and began rummaging through the various drawers and shelves.

The good news? The room was reasonably clean and put together. It provided the opportunity for his search to be methodical and organized. 

The bad news? The room was reasonably clean and put together. And Arthur was…not methodical and organized.

He’d just finished scrounging through the last pile of books - knocking half of them to the floor in the process - when the unmistakable sound of a throat clearing rang out behind him.  

“What are you doing Arthur?”

A bizarre mix of apprehension and embarrassment flashed through the king as he turned to meet the annoyed - if slightly amused - eyes of his friend. 

“Is this how you felt every time I caught you doing something?” 

“Hm, possibly. Let’s see if you have my gift for excuses.” 

“I’m not even going to try. Look I - I came here to ask…”

One ever expressive eyebrow rose slightly. “Yes?”

“Do you remember the Dorocha attack?”

Merlin snorted. “Little hard to forget getting quick frozen.”

Arthur winced and he sobered. 

“Sorry, not a joking matter. What about it?”

“Do you remember what I gave you before we reached the isle?”

Merlin frowned momentarily in thought then his face cleared.

“The medallion with your mother’s sigil on it.”

Arthur twirled the ring on his left hand. “Where is it, I need to see it.”

Inexplicably Merlin hesitated. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Um nothing..it just..”

Arthur stepped forward and grabbed both his arms. “Tell me you still have it!” 

“Of course I do!”

The king let out an audible sigh of relief before noticing the way Merlin’s leaning away from him, blue eyes dark with hurt. “I’m sorry,” he let go and raised his hands. “I’ll explain in a minute just get it for me,” he urged. “Please?”

Merlin nodded and slowly moved past him into the room. Watching Arthur from the corner of his eye he knelt beside the bed and lifted one of the floorboards underneath it revealing a small hidey hole. Reaching inside he pulled out a thick, leather bound book, set it on his lap and continued to rummage. Arthur opened his mouth to ask if the book is what he thought it was when Merlin made a noise of discovery and sat back on his heels, clutching a drawstring bag in his fist. He pulled it open and carefully dumped its contents on the bed. 

Among scattered pieces of white shell, a single, dried up red flower, and roughly carved wooden figure of a dragon, Arthur spotted the charcoal colored disc resting on the rough blanket. 

He picked it up carefully, curling his fingers around the smooth edges, and ran his thumb over the tiny silver dove at its center. “I forgot how heavy it was,” he muttered. Bracing himself, he turned the medallion over.

Blank. Just as the old woman said it would be. 

“So it really was this one. If she only knew.”

“She? Arthur, what's going on?”

Arthur glanced from the uncarved surface of the medallion to his friend’s concerned gaze and back again. He swallowed once then looked up fully, meeting Merlin’s eyes straight on. 

“What can you tell me about Nimueh?”

Chapter Text

Color immediately drained from Merlin’s face. “Where...where did you hear that name?”

Arthur raised a brow. “My chambers, about half an hour ago. You?”

Merlin turned unsteadily and began to pace the room, running shaky fingers through his hair. “Originally? Shortly after she got me to drink poisoned wine and your father accused Bayard of the crime. Gaius said you met her around the same time.”

Arthur sat, frowning in thought. “Do you mean the sorceress who led me to the caves of Balor? She tried to leave me to my death there.”

“Sounds about right,” Merlin muttered darkly. 

“I suppose that makes sense. From the way he talked when I mentioned it, I was sure my father knew who the woman was, but he refused to acknowledge it. Just said all sorcerers were alike. It’s strange though..”

“What is?”

“When she left me in the cave, she said it wasn’t my destiny to die by her hand.”

“She would know.”

“But if she also poisoned my wine...?”

“She never meant for you to drink that wine,” Merlin answered absently. 

“What do you mean?”

The warlock quirked his lips. “Did you never wonder just why I was so certain your goblet had been poisoned?” The look on Arthur’s face made it clear he hadn’t. “Right. Well you see, while Bayard was making his toast someone who I thought was a serving girl in his party came to me. She told me she’d seen him adding poison to your goblet before he presented them to your father. She lied and said he wanted to start a war between the kingdoms.”

“And you believed her just like that?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged, sitting down next to him. 

“I couldn’t take the chance of something happening to you. We weren’t friends then, by any means but…well,” his smile grew soft, “I was already starting to believe in who you were meant to become. I wasn’t going to just let you die when there was something I could do to save you.”

Arthur’s gaze softened as well, remembering he’d had much of the same feeling. Far stronger than he could explain at the time. “So you thought, what? You’d trade your life for mine?”

“Hmm no, actually that came later.” 

Arthur stared at him. “Are we still talking about Nimueh?”

“Unfortunately,” Merlin confirmed. “What’s all this got to do with your mother’s sigil?” he added quickly.

Arthur frowned at him but allowed the change of subject. Merlin stayed quiet while he recounted the majority of conversation. Arthur couldn’t help but notice he didn’t look too surprised at some parts. 

“I can’t escape the fact that my father must have known someone would die as a result of my birth,” Arthur finished, saving what bothered him most for last. 

“She said that?”

“No, she very neatly sidestepped the subject. But I’d be a fool to continue believing otherwise. It was obvious my mother had a strong suspicion something was wrong, and seeing as my father had to have been the one to make the deal then he wouldn’t have been able to avoid the truth. But the problem remains that Nimueh would have known the cost of the spell too. Why would she go along with what he wanted knowing my mother would be against it? I know my mother would have been against it. If Nimueh was supposedly bound to follow her wishes, if she was her friend, wouldn’t she have respected that?”

Merlin sighed. “Are you really asking?” Arthur had been looking at him the whole time but he had to be sure. The king nodded. 

“I think there were two reasons. One, she knew how desperate your mother was for a child. Uther managed to keep Morgana a secret but if he had another affair, the next mistress might not be so willing to stay quiet about having borne the king an heir. The last thing the queen needed was another woman’s son fighting for her throne. And…” Merlin swallowed hard.

“And?” Arthur prompted.

“I have no proof of this,” Merlin hedged, “apart from what I know of her and from what you just told me.”

“Oh for the love of Camelot spit it out!”

“I think Nimueh wanted to teach Uther a lesson.”

Arthur blinked several times. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly. Merlin was watching him from the corner of his eye and Arthur didn’t know if he should be ready to get angry.

“It’s taken me a long time to understand, but the practice of bartering a life for a life is all about the balance. The life that gets saved and the life that gets taken in return have to be of equal value to the one making the deal. The greatest benefits have the greatest consequences, they have to. Otherwise a person would have no compunctions about using the strongest of magic on the slightest whim.”

“You’re saying Nimueh knew this?” Arthur asked.

“She didn’t know it would be your mother’s life,” Merlin reassured him. “If she had realized just how much Uther cherished his queen she would never have risked the bargain. But... if all she saw was Uther treating magic as nothing more than a convenient tool, to be used when it suited him and ignored otherwise, then I think she would have been vindictive enough to go through with it. She would have had no qualms about such a person losing one of his close advisors or friends - probably not even his daughter, although I don’t think she would have harmed a child if she could have avoided it. When your father insisted Nimueh help him despite her warning, then she decided he’d have to learn that getting what he wanted in this way would include suffering for his lack of respect. She just didn’t count on everyone else suffering with him.” 

“She wanted him to pay and my mother did instead.” Arthur rubbed a hand across his mouth, trying to sort his emotions. “I want to hate her for that,” he finally admitted. “But I can’t without hating my father also... and…” 

“Hate is what started this Sire.” Merlin told him quietly.

“Hate of each other, hate of magic. And all along my mother loved magic. I wish…” Merlin nodded as Arthur trailed off. 

“At least you know she’d support the actions you’re taking. That she’d be proud of you.”  

Arthur nodded in turn. “It’s strange.”

“What?”

“I gave this to you so long ago, not knowing what it meant or who you were. I didn’t believe I’d ever put my faith in magic and yet I placed a symbol of that faith into the hands of the only person who had the chance to make that happen. Was that another of fate’s designs?”

Merlin gave a slight shrug. “Fate, destiny, coincidence, I’ve stopped trying to tell them apart.” 

“Do I want to know how you know so much about trading one life for another?” Their eyes met and a cold feeling settled in Arthur’s gut. “I don’t. Right?” 

“What’s done is done,” Merlin told him. “I’ll die before I admit to regretting it, but it was a decision made out of desperation along with too little knowledge of, and too little care for the consequences. Neither of us can afford those sorts of choices anymore.”

“Agreed.” 

After some time Arthur turned to study the other items on the bed between them. There was nothing remarkable about them and - dragon carving aside - nothing that screamed of something that needed to stay out of sight. “Is there a particular reason you were keeping all this in a hole under your bed?”

Merlin shrugged but Arthur wasn’t taking that for an answer.

“This was a gift from my mother, I deserve to know.”

“The fact it belonged to your mother should tell you everything you need to know. Every time any kind of accusation got bandied about this room got searched. I didn’t want...certain people, to find it and be accused of stealing from you. I know you wouldn’t have let that stand,” he added, preempting Arthur’s protest, “but you’d have to admit you’d given it to me which might have been really awkward for you. It was just better if no one ever found out I had it.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t want anyone to know I’d given it to you?” 

Merlin arched an eyebrow. “Why did you give it to me Arthur?”

Arthur opened his mouth but promptly shut it. He’d known his reason at the time, but even as close as the two of them are now he had no clue how to put it into words. He’d never been good with words. 

He stood quickly, “I need to get going.”  

“You.. you’re taking it with you?” Merlin asked, noting the sigil still clutched tightly in the king’s hand. He couldn't fault Arthur for wanting it back, after all his friend had precious little to remember his mother by. Still the thought of giving it up hurt more than it probably should. 

Arthur leaned over and gave his shoulder a squeeze, for once seeing through the hasty smile Merlin had pasted on his face.  

“There are two questions I’ve been asking myself ever since I started working on restoring magic to the kingdom. I think I might finally have found the answer to both of them, but there are a few more things I need to find out first. Can you trust me for a little while?” 

“What are you up to?” his servant wondered aloud.

Arthur smiled. “When I figure it out you’ll be the first to know. Now come on, cheer up,” he gave Merlin a teasing punch to his shoulder. “And clean up too, your room is a disaster.”

He scurried out of the room to the sound of his friend’s insulted sputtering. 

Arthur was going to have to formally decree that there was no scarier force in the universe than having your wife walk in on your temper tantrum. He was. It would be a royal decree. Because just now, being stared down by an incredibly lovely Guinevere who was tapping her foot and very pointedly ignoring the book he’d just tossed across the room was leaving him cold from head to toe. 

“Evening my love. Did you enjoy your ride?”

“I wasn’t on that ride to enjoy myself, as you are well aware. If anything it’s made me feel worse.”

“You didn’t get an answer?”

“Oh I got an answer,” the queen replied sourly. “‘Wait until the jasmine stops blooming, then you’ll know for sure.’”

“Jasmine makes people throw up? Couldn’t Gaius have told you that?”

“I think it means more the timing of when it stops blooming.”

“What does it’s timing matter?”

Guinevere narrowed her eyes like he was deliberately making fun of her. Which wasn’t fair because Arthur had no idea how his question could mean anything more than what he’d intended it as. 

“Never mind it for now. What did that book do to turn you into a prize example of a toddler?”

Embarrassment overtaking his confusion, Arthur picked up the volume off the floor, smoothing its crinkled pages out. 

“I was looking for more information on the meaning behind the medallion I showed you last week.”

Gwen groaned and shuffled behind the changing screen. “I thought Lord Godwin’s retainer told you all about that.”

“She told me what it meant to my mother. Now I just have to figure out what it means to the kingdom.”

“You’re the king. It means what you want it to mean.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“Arthur.” She came around the end of the screen and gave him a pointed look. “I know how much you’re trying to distance yourself from your father’s way of ruling. But once in a very great while you are allowed to do something you want simply because you want to.”

It took a rather painful bite to the tongue to not to retort to that observation but after a few minutes' consideration Arthur was forced to agree.

“I know what I want. I suppose I’m afraid, though why I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Guinevere rested her hands on his shoulders. “It’s alright to be afraid. But that fear hasn’t stopped you yet. Whatever you decide, you have the support of everyone that matters. Understood?”

“Yes, my queen.”

“Good.”

Glancing down Arthur picked the precious medallion up off the table and placed it in his wife’s palm. “My mother would have loved you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. The more I learn about her, the more I see her strength, her wisdom, her willingness to do the right thing even if it meant having to stand apart from the world around her. Every quality I’ve come to love in you. I have a plan, but I want to wait until we’re sure of a few things before I implement it. Will you keep this safe for me until then?”

“Of course. Tell me what you need.”

“I need to know how you’d feel being an emissary to magic.”

Chapter Text

“For all we’ve accomplished in this past year I continued to find myself plagued by two questions. How do I convince magic users that they could have dealings with us without having a person who understood them in a position of some visible authority? Secondly, what authority could I give the only person who I would trust in such a position when that person had made it very clear he was not going to be a court figurehead.

“As I should be used to by now, an answer to this dilemma was provided quite unexpectedly. By my mother no less.”

The members of the round table stirred with interest.  

“Geoffrey.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“You are an expert on all aspects of Camelot’s history?”

“I’d like to think so, Sire.”

“Decrees and provisions made by all members of the royal family are documented and studied for the purpose of preserving the history and integrity of the kingdom. You’ve committed such records to memory?”

“To the absolute best of my ability.”

“And why have you done so?”

“It is my job Sire.”

“To a certain extent, yes. But your dedication to your craft far exceeds that of duty. What makes your role special to you?”

The old man stroked his chin. “Because it is our duty, if you’ll pardon the expression. To the past, the present, and the future. How will the generations that follow us avoid repeating history if they do not have a history to learn from?”

“And do you believe there are as many lessons from the past worth copying as there are to those to be avoided?”

“I should think your history lessons as a child are enough to provide an answer to that, My Lord.”

Merlin snorted and Arthur allowed himself to smile. Bowing his head in a ‘point acknowledged’ gesture the king reached into his pocket. “That said then, I’m sure you are familiar with the nature of this.”

If he hadn’t been watching so closely Arthur might have missed the faint intake of breath that passed the elderly recorder’s lips as well as the faint sheen to his eyes. 

“Well. Ahem. I must say I never imagined I’d see one of these again in this life.”

“According to my source, a person who carried this sigil was appointed by my mother to serve the kingdom in areas where magical guidance was required. To solve problems on her behalf that only magic could solve.”

“A very accurate if brief summary my lord.”

“What kind of title is connected with this position?”   

“There isn’t one, officially. In the past sigil bearers used only the title they were born with or had otherwise acquired. The only thing it guaranteed them was recognition as a protector of the royal family,” he paused, “and being under their protection in return.”

“Precisely. They act in the crown’s stead just like any knight. Fully trusted to use their knowledge and abilities to resolve problems that those of us without magic are unable to understand or where our presence would only serve to make a bad situation worse. In times past those who filled these roles were often kept anonymous. However in the interest of maintaining trust, Merlin and I have agreed that his position should be made common knowledge. I don’t think I need to inform any of you of the consequences that would be metered out should he suffer as a result of this revelation.”

The council’s silence confirmed their acknowledgement of the warning. 

“Now I assume you have questions.”

A few hands raised.

“Sir Leon?”

“Sire, will these…guardians be serving alongside the knights? Does this mean we will be having a new batch of recruits to train?”

“No. If in the future young men with magical affinity wish to become knights we will form a new training regimen for them. However the men and women who serve alongside Merlin are in a different category. They will have no connection to the army.”

“The kinds of matters we’ll be dealing with are not likely to be ones where the more mundane, if you'll pardon the word, methods of fighting will do any good. With any luck they’ll be ones where fighting at all will be irrelevant.”  

“And I assume they will be under your authority directly?” Gwaine asked.

“Actually this group has always fallen under the supervision of the queen. Both Guinevere and I will be working closely with our newest team, but unless she is indisposed all handling of  assignments and reports will fall under her jurisdiction.”

“Is it wise to put such a delicate political matter into the hands of a w- into the hands of anyone but yourself Sire?”

“There is substantial precedent,” Geoffrey interceded before his colleague found out just what it meant to be in the hands of the queen. “Sharing leadership roles shows the king and queen to be a united front in the interests of all the people. And magic has always shown a strong favoritism for women. They are slower to resort to using it for their own gain and they have a much more natural affinity for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean historically there have been many more powerful female sorcerers than male. Why I couldn’t say.”

“Life,” Merlin spoke up. All eyes turned to him as he explained. “Magic has always been tied to the lifeforce of the world. It is strongest in places that life is abundant, where it’s formed and where it thrives. Women encapsulate that role in humans. They give life.” 

Guinevere smiled and not so subtly moved her left hand to rest on her stomach. 

Arthur smiled also. “Yes, thank you for the reminder. As I said in the future this role will grow and expand as more join its cause. But if you must define Merlin’s position, define it as this. He is the guardian of my family. That is he protects my life, but also the life of my wife and queen. The mother of our child.”  

“You’re sure you had nothing to do with this…new development?”

“Gaius I will gladly meddle in innumerable parts of Arthur’s life. However, any part that involves him attempting to give Gwen a child I stay far, far away from.”

“I merely wondered.”

“No. You’ve told me often enough to learn from the mistakes of others. If anyone intervened on their behalf it wasn’t me. I’m choosing to believe it was only a matter of timing. As a physician you know better than anyone how difficult such a thing can be to get right.” 

“As you say. For a long time, I must say that given the circumstances of his own conception I feared Arthur would be unable to father a child without the intervention of magic. I am greatly relieved to hear that is not the case. Of course it will be several months before we can rest easy. Bringing life into the world is a dangerous task.”

“One that women manage to do successfully everyday and have done long before there was access to midwives or herb women or court physicians.” 

“True. Still…”

Merlin settled a hand on his mentor’s shoulder. “I’ll watch over them, Gaius. I promise. Nothing will happen to Gwen. Or to Camelot’s prince.”

“Prince? Are you sure?”

“Oh definitely.” Merlin smirked, pouring out two glasses of their best dinner wine. 

Gaius’ tired face lit up with a grin as he accepted his cup. “Do you plan on informing the king and queen of this little fact?”

“Only if they ask.” 

Chapter Text

“Smacking one of his servants may be considered forgivable but that was not a smack. He beat that child to within an inch of his life!”

“It wasn’t quite-

“Wasn’t quite my foot!” Gwen interjected. “That sort of behavior is intolerable Arthur you know it is.”

“This isn’t the first time he’s used this kind of violence on the palace servants. I’ve gotten my fair share of bruises from his entourage myself.”

Arthur frowned. “What were you doing serving them?”

Merlin gave him an unimpressed look. “Servants are a close knit batch. We protect each other. George, myself, and two or three others who knew exactly when and when not to duck usually took care of the guests that had…reputations. The maids did it too, with the more abrasive lady visitors.”

His wife nodded firmly in agreement and Arthur fell silent. What his friend said wasn’t surprising - nobles often had a reputation for being less than noble where servants were concerned. He knew firsthand what a person could get away with when it came to those who were considered less than them…and for so long he hadn’t cared.

“How long before I stop uncovering just how many things are wrong with my rule?”

“Arthur,” Gwen smiled sympathetically at him. “This is about far more than just you.”

“I set the example, Guinevere.”

“To a limited degree,” Merlin interrupted. “You’ve let me mouth back to you for as long as we’ve known each other. If the court was dead set on following your example all servants would have that freedom. Stop worrying about being accountable and start worrying about holding accountable.”

Easier said than done. Grifud’s estate holds two thirds of western forest. The people of Camelot depend on the wood he supplies every winter.”

“You mean the wood we collect as his taxes?”

“He gives far above that my dear. He can’t withdraw everything, of course but no one could rightfully protest if he stops donating the excess. The excess I’m sorry to say we’ve become dependent on.”

“We have other sources-”

“Not-”

“Ahem.”

Both royals turned to Merlin who was wearing one of his unnervingly confident looks. “If I may?”

They nodded.

“I might have another solution. Could you see to it that Lord Grifud’s conduct is addressed at the council meeting three days hence?” 

“Three days?”

“Yes. Jerome should be back on his feet by then and I want to confirm a couple of rumors.”

Arthur stared at him befuddled but Gwen’s eyes took on a faint glimmer. “What exactly are you planning?”

“Ah, ah that would be gossip.”

“Just a hint?” 

Merlin’s smile only grew. “Leon once said the council was up in arms about my appointment because they were secretly afraid of me. Fine. I’m going to give them a reason to be afraid of me.”

“Where’s George?”

The footman started. “He just left Sir- ah Lord- a um Merlin. I believe he said something about having a word with the boot shiners?” 

Merlin groaned. “I swear that man can sense when I’m looking for him. He’s always exactly where I’m not.”

The other man shrugged awkwardly. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“If you see him again, tell him I need him to polish a horse.”

“Sir?”

“He’ll know what it means.”

“Alright then.”

“Audrey!” Merlin called, ducking back inside the corridor. The maid stopped abruptly and turned to him with startled eyes.

“Yes Merlin?”

“Is Lady Grifud still away?”

“Yes.”

“Until Monday?”

“I expect so. That’s what she planned.”

“Any idea where she went?”

The corner of Audrey’s lip quirked. “None, officially.”

Merlin raised a brow, returning her smirk. “And unofficially?”

Two days passed and Arthur had no more idea what was going on than he did at the start. Merlin, when he could get the man to stand still for more than ten seconds, would only smile cheerfully and tell his king everything was coming together and he would explain it all soon.  

“Soon. I’m going to have to pass a royal decree defining the word soon. Never going to get any peace around here otherwise.”

“Sire?” 

“Is there something you need Sir Gwaine?”

“Don’t need anything. But I’m curious to know why you’ve taken to standing in the middle of the courtyard muttering to yourself. Something Gaius prescribed for your health?”

Arthur glared at the knight. “You’d do the same if Merlin said he’d give someone a reason to be afraid of him then 48 hours later was still refusing to elaborate.”

Gwaine whistled. “Got one for you too. I heard him ordering half a dozen servants to ‘make sure you bury your shields properly or else we’ll all be scraping paint off the ceiling’.” 

“What?!”

“Your Highness?”

Arthur turned to see a well poised young woman of no more than thirty standing ill at ease behind him. It took him a short time to place her name.

“Madeline. How can I be of service?”

The woman blushed and shoved a loose strand of hair from her face. “I received a letter from my mistress, Lady Grifud, just now. She asked that I make a request of you on her behalf as she will be unable to attend you in court for some time.”

“Very well, the queen and I will be hearing petitions this afternoon.”

Madeline blushed again. “Forgive me Sire, it’s just that the matter is rather delicate and I know my lady would not wish the whole court to know. It might make things difficult, especially with her husband. And considering he’s already in his own trouble, at least Merlin said he was going to be in trouble, I wonder if I might…”

Arthur held up a hand. “I understand. You can meet us in the queen’s study, one hour from now.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” With a curtsy and a final blush at the wink Gwaine sent her, the maid hurried off. 

“Merlin says he’s going to be in trouble ay?” Gwaine grinned. “What is our little friend up too?”

“Besides making me want to yank my hair out.”

“Don’t do that, it’ll ruin what little appeal you have.”

“Sir Gwaine!”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving. See you at the council meeting tomorrow.”

“You’re actually going to show up?”

“Merlin’s going to see to it that a so-called nobleman gets his rear handed to him? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”  

“My Lord, I appreciate that in light of…recent events, your opinion on the treatment of certain individuals might have been influenced. But I promise you my behavior was not only to protect my own interests but those of the kingdom as will.” 

“Well, it’s no secret that I have been pleased to provide far and above what the common people require in terms of resources. Regrettably my expenses have been steadily increasing and should the calls on my purse continue I might soon be forced to-” he cut off looking at Merlin with a mix of curiosity and outrage as the warlock leaned back in his chair and faked a huge yawn. “You should take my words seriously.”

“Oh I would, if your oh so delicate hint of withdrawing Camelot’s needed trade was in any way a valid threat.”

“Are you suggesting I won’t do it?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. It’s a well known fact you can’t withdraw any provision from an estate that isn’t actually yours.” 

“I beg your-”

“Sit down Lord Griford.” Arthur commanded. “I have here a copy of the late Lord Perth’s will. It states: ‘I do declare that my estate and all contained within shall, on the occasion of her marriage, become the sole legal property of the husband of my only daughter. Jocosa by name.’” He paused waiting for a reply. When there was none, Arthur continued at a much slower pace. “You, Lord Grifud, are not his daughter’s husband.” 

“My Lord!”

“I also have, thank you George, a death certificate signed by one Sigeberht Wigberht-”

“No? His parents could not have named him Sigeberht Wigberht!”

Arthur shot his friend a ‘save it’ look and Merlin shut up although the king could easily tell he was laughing on the inside. 

“Sig- this man was arrested last week for forging legal documents. In exchange for leniency he agreed to turn over all records he kept on people he’d done work for along with detailed reports of just what his client’s actual situation was.”

“He’s sort of a ‘if I go down, you’re going down with me’ kind of chap.” Merlin added helpfully. 

“He records that when you met Lady Jocosa and found out her father’s will you had your pregnant wife shut away and paid this Wigberht fellow to declare you widowed.”

“Sire are you accusing me based on the word of a criminal known for forging documents.”

“You’re mistaken,” Merlin spoke up, fixing the supposed lord with a steely look. “This criminal’s records were only the final confirmation of facts that have been known for months now. You see your wife - your real wife -  finally escaped her prison not long ago. Her and your now 12 year old son live at the base of the Feorre mountains. Don’t worry Simon doesn’t know who you are. He thinks his father died of the wasting disease when he was a baby.”

“But Jerome knew the truth,” Arthur stated. “And unlike what you claim he wasn’t trying to get money from you for himself. He wanted it to make provision for your family. At the bequest of his mistress Lady Jocosa herself. Oh yes, he woke up yesterday. He told us everything. This last document,” Arthur held it up, “is her petition for an annulment. Since your marriage isn’t technically legally binding there isn’t really a need for it, but she thought it best for formality’s sake.

“Your home and money are no longer yours. Lord Perth was far wiser than most. His provision for his daughter stated that the estate went to her husband if she married. If she didn’t it was hers to do with what she wished.”

“And what she wishes is to never see you again. Quite the conundrum isn’t it? Glad I’m not you. And to think it all could have been avoided if you hadn’t decided you were better than that stable boy.”

“Insolent child! He had no right to question me! Neither did you! To think of investigating a noble.”

“Wasn’t much investigation necessary really. Secrets aren’t exactly difficult to uncover.”

“Not when you use magic.”

Merlin shook his head slowly. “That’s where you’re wrong. I learned how to pick up on things long before I had any true handle on my magic. I’d say it was something anyone could learn how to do but looking at you lot now, I know that’s wrong. It requires one trait that I have and you never will.”

“And what would that be?”

“I am not afraid of being invisible.” 

Several moments of silent worrying followed. 

“Right now I could name at least twenty other individuals who have the same talent. And at most each one of you would recognize one, perhaps two of them. Now I can’t make any demands as to how you should conduct yourselves…”

“I can,” Arthur finished. “I won’t though. Because I choose to have faith that the members of Camelot’s court know how to recognize an opportunity to strengthen her position and gain allies from within. But seeing to it all its citizens are treated as equals, regardless of what they do for income.”

“Your Majesty, seeking to extort money from a superior is a crime.”

“Seeking to extort money from anyone is a crime Lord Wills. Do I need to have your conduct revealed to this assembly?”

The lord purpled then glanced at Merlin’s raised eyebrow and rapidly paled. “I take your point Sire.”

“An explicit list of servant’s rights will be drafted for those of you who cannot appreciate principles, however I will say this: From this point forward, all claims of mistreatment will be investigated and if proven to be true, the perpetrators will be punished. No matter who they might be. Do any of you wish to voice an objection?”

Several moments of silent terror followed. 

“Very well, I declare this meeting complete. You are all dismissed.”

The room had never emptied faster.  

After they leave Arthur chuckles and looks at Merlin admiringly. 

“Feel better?” he asks.

“Better that they didn’t push for more secrets ‘cause that’s the only one I had.”

Arthur laughed out loud.

“I think you need to retire that whole lot though.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Merlin answered, tone serious, “they gave in far too easily.”

“Easily?!”

“Yeah. Load of pushovers, all of them. What use do you have for people who can be intimidated into going along with any changes you want to put in place. Who checks your hand?”

Arthur smiled. “Easy. You do.”

“Me?” 

“You have been for years now, and some of my worst mistakes have come because I wouldn’t listen to you. Repeat that and I’ll deny it,” he added quickly, seeing the pleased smile curling Merlin’s lips.

“I will be limiting their influence, as necessary. I don't trust men who change their tune just to keep their positions. It doesn’t make for a unified nation.” He smiled at his friend. “People who disagree with me out of honesty are far more worthy of my trust than those who agree with every word the king says.”

“Bootlickers.”

“You’ll never be that. You’ll argue even when you agree. Just to keep me used to it.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Arthur whacked him on the head but couldn’t bring himself to disagree. 

Chapter Text

Their one day fabled partnership faced its first true test a few months later.

Lot wasn’t the last king of the neighboring kingdoms to communicate with Camelot over the prospect of improving relations but he was the one Arthur felt the most concern over. He had to have met the man at some function or other over the course of his life, he was sure, but they’d built no rapport. Relations between the two kingdoms had been strained since before Arthur’s birth and his father’s policies had done little if anything to improve that.

The chief trouble was there was too much about the man and his ideals that Arthur simply didn’t know. Was he a friend to magic only when he thought it was under his control - much like Cenred had mistakenly been - or was his opinion more liberal? Many escapees of the purge had fled into Escetir but what had become of them was anyone’s guess. While not technically enemies, Arthur highly doubted their presence would have been welcome among the majority of the population. He couldn’t help but recall Merlin’s recent admission that Camelot wasn’t the only reason his mother worked so desperately to keep his power a secret. 

On the other hand, as Guinevere so aptly pointed out, they had no difficulties from their neighbor since Morgause army had been defeated and nothing in the, admittedly sparse, communications between the kingdoms seemed to indicate that would change. Whatever Lot’s feelings toward Camelot, he was clearly focusing his energies on dealing with his own problems.    

The results of the strain had not been kind. For someone who was less than ten years his senior, Arthur couldn’t help but think men his father’s age had more life and vitality about their countenance than the man across from him. He could only hope whatever mental distress was currently occupying his mind would still allow the man to take to his proposals favorably.

“I fully understand that you have reservations. An alliance would do a great deal of good for both our peoples, but one established under duress will only breed resentment. In view of that I’m only asking that we formally establish a pact of nonaggression.”  

“And I am only asking why you feel such an agreement is necessary.” The other king countered simply. “Your army far outstrips mine in size.” 

“We would be beholden to the agreement as well.” Guinevere spoke up. “Think of it as a show of goodwill.”

“I appreciate that is what you at least intend it to be, Your Highness. But I am an individual reluctant to trust in appearances.” 

“Nearly six years without the slightest sign of aggression should lend credence to the appearance.” Arthur pointed out, earning him a less than affectionate nudge in the leg from his wife. 

If Lot noticed the movement he had the grace not to comment on it.  

“It would be Your Highness, if Camelot did not have a record of turning on long standing allies the minute that alliance was not to their advantage.”

Arthur leaned cautiously towards him.

“You speak of the past. Whatever your grievance with my father, I’m not asking for your forgiveness. But I would ask that you do not place the blame for his actions at the feet of my people.”

“What do you have to say for your own actions? You who would remove the head of a king for trespassing but spare the life of presents and servants who committed treason under your very nose? I will not risk the lives of my people in an alliance with a croí dúbailte ruler.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Literally it means ‘double-hearted’. Although most people use it to mean two-faced. He means you’re inconsistent and he doesn’t trust you to keep your word.” 

“Yes, thank you Merlin.”

Lot sat up a little straighter. “So it is true.”

Merlin met his gaze steadily. “What is true Your Highness?”

“I had heard it said Arthur’s chief advisor was born within the boundaries of my kingdom. I wasn’t sure if I believed it but no one but a native would be able to translate old Escatarian so quickly. I can also hear a remnant of the Vidren valley accent in your speech. You hide it well, but it’s there.”

Merlin blinked, genuinely unsure where the king was going with this. 

“It’s not a matter of hiding to be exact my lord. I’ve lived in Camelot for many years. And my accent was never very strong to begin with.”

“Hmm. It rarely is in border villages.”

“Excuse me, bearing what does Merlin’s place of birth have on our discussion?”

Lot sat back, fingers laced across his middle. “It makes for an interesting perspective. You left no doubt a humble situation and have risen to the right hand of a king. A common story for members of this court. A king that bestows privileges on those he considers his friends inspires great loyalty does he not?”

“Not always. Sometimes it makes him a target for manipulation and betrayal.”

“And yet he continues the trend?” 

Merlin glanced at him, silently prompting Arthur to reply.

“Loyalty is a two way street. Trust as a whole can only be damaged by others. It’s up to you to allow it to be destroyed completely.”  

“This king has granted you many advantages.” Lot renewed his address to the younger king’s advisor. 

“And?” Said advisor asked, a bit petulantly, it had to be admitted. 

“Advantages that never would have been granted by his father.”

“Just as well Uther was never my king then.” Merlin’s voice was soft but the steel it contained was unmistakable. 

Lot cocked his head slightly. “Indeed.” 

Returning his attention to a barely concealing his bafflement Arthur, the other king nodded firmly. 

“I will admit your proposal has merit, and would do a great deal to reduce agitation in my court. However I have not lasted in my kingdom's oft revolving seat of power by being hasty. With your leave I will use the remainder of my time in your hospitality to consider any amendments I may wish to make to your proposal. If we are in accord at the end of the week I will sign it, on a line parallel to you.”

“Agreed.”

“It’s strange. Of course everything is strange nowadays. I see why Geoffrey said you preferred to avoid prolonged stays in any one place. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy here. Happier than I’ve been since - well ever - but still. For all I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished this year, some days I’d give almost anything to walk around and have no one give a second thought to where I’m going or what I’m up to. My whole time here I’ve wanted people to see me for who I am and now I sometimes wish they didn’t see me at all.” 

As he talked a never too distant shadow passed over him.

“I’ve warned Arthur about the risks of talking to himself, but I should have thought you would know better Merls.”

“I was speaking to my father.”

Gwaine turned his head, taking in the small engraved stone his friend was sitting in front of.

“Gift from Gwen.” Merlin explained as his friend lowered himself to the ground beside him. “It just got put out here last week. She’s working on a list of all the dragons and their lords who perished in the purge. Eventually this whole courtyard will serve as a memorial for them. For whoever might be left that cares.” 

“Ah. I’m glad someone thought of that. They deserve to be remembered. I don't know if I ever said, but I’m deeply sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

Gwaine sat quietly for what he deemed a respectable amount of time - nearly thirty seconds - before slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders. “So you asking your old man for advice on your princess?”

“What are you talking about?” Merlin sputtered, ears turning red. “I’m not-”

“Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, don’t try it. You’ve been writing to the lady for months now. You write to her more than you write to your mother.”

“My mother doesn’t have the answers to the questions I need to ask.” Merlin replied dryly.

“That answer may work on others but not on your best friend.”

“My self-proclaimed best friend should know I don’t part with information that easily.”

“So there is information.” Gwaine nodded to himself with a smug grin. “No, no, don't argue. I thought I’d have to go six rounds of my best jokes-”   

“Torture”

“-to get that much. I’m quite happy to wait. So long as you promise that I am the one to stand up with you at your wedding.”

“Not with her or any woman alive, Gwaine.”

“Humpf. Well that’s all right. I’ve got a year or so to work on you.”

“You’ve worked out that timeline how?”

Gwaine ticked off his fingers as he spoke.

“Little heirling won’t arrive for another fourish months. Holding a wedding before that would just be rude not to mention it’ll take you at least two more to dig your head out of the sand that this woman genuinely likes you. Another three to accept that she’d be genuinely interested in a life with you, and well royalty can marry with a week’s notice but you’re not royalty and you have too many friends scattered about to not have some time pass between announcing you intend to marry and the blessed event’s occurrence.”  

“I have no idea what to say to that.”

“I’ll be pleased to spare you the need.”

Merlin and Gwaine bolted to their feet at Lot’s approach. The king acknowledged the knight with a nod.

“If Sir Runshismouth could spare you, I’d appreciate a word.”

Gwaine neither smiled or frowned at the dismissal, merely looking at Merlin for his opinion. At his friends nod he withdrew to a just respectful enough distance.

“Your comrade won’t stay away long so I’ll come straight to the point. Give me reason to accept the bargain of a man I own nothing to. Why should I buy into the blind devotion of one of my people, for by law you are still one of my people. There is no record of you becoming a free citizen of this land.” 

Merlin gazed at him thoughtfully. “You said Camelot had a habit of turning on its allies. My father was one of those. He gave everything he believed in only to be betrayed, driven from his family and indirectly murdered by the very king he’d pledged his life to. I met him twenty-four hours before he was taken from me and yet he still taught me the lesson I think is on your mind now: Devotion is blind. However, loyalty is not. I’m loyal to Arthur. At the risk of my life and my people I refuse to leave his side. He has earned that. Aren’t you at least a little curious as to why?”

After some minutes of Lot’s silence, He tilted his head consideringly, “You’re not that different from him you know. You both know what it’s like to inherit a broken kingdom.”

“How much do you still claim to know about my kingdom?”

“I lived through that revolving seat of power you mentioned. I know what Cenred left behind. What Rience left behind. What.. I can’t think of his name.. but the one before that left behind.

“For eighteen years I never stepped foot out of Vidren valley. And I saw exactly how much it didn’t provide. Your people had nothing. We were left to suffer and die under men who cared nothing for us. It’s not like that now. There’s hope, a hope many thought gone forever. You’re helping your land to heal and to thrive. Can you begrudge another king who is only looking to do the same?” 

Lot frowns at him. “Who are you exactly?”

Merlin gave him a secretive smile. “If you walk away from this treaty I guarantee you’ll never find out.”

“Gwen! You need something?”

The queen waved off his assisting hand, navigating the stairs to the infirmary as nimbly as she’d done prior to acquiring her rapidly protruding belly. She did take the chair he offered, gratefully resting her feet upon the currently unoccupied bed. 

“Merlin, have you written your mother recently?”

“I was going to when I finished work this evening.”

“When you do include a note from me that my admiration for her has only increased since the day I learned about this little one. That she managed everything she had to do just to survive in that tiny village of yours and carried a child to term at the same time.” She shook her head. “I really have to wonder if I could have done it.”

Merlin smiled slightly, though worry creased around his eyes. “There’s got to be more I can do for you.”

“Hmm. Just make sure Ector grows up understanding he needs to appreciate this.”

“Ector?”

She gestured to her stomach.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had names picked out. What’s the one for a girl?

“I’m not bothering with one. Everyone from my last female relative, to the midwives, to strangers in the Lower Town have been telling me the same thing. The way I’m carrying this child leaves no doubt it’s a boy.”

“If you say so. Why Ector?”

“After Arthur’s...wait do you not know..?” She laughed with a bewildered expression. “I know something about him you don’t. Never thought I’d see the day.” Mirth took her once again.

“If you’re quite finished.”

“I just can’t believe,” she broke off and cleared her throat. “When Arthur was I think about eight he started spending summers north of here with a retired knight Sir Ector and his son Kay. You’ll have to ask him the details but he said being there were some of the few times he remembers being really happy. That he had days where he could just be a child not a prince.” 

“I never knew. Has Sir Ector’s passed?”

Gwen nodded. “When Arthur was fourteen. He lost touch with Kay not long after but he still remembers them fondly. So Ector will be our son’s name. Ector Thomas. After my father,” she added softly.

“I’m that last person whose approval you need, but I like it.”

She smiled warmly. “I’m glad.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t be giving him nicknames. Uncle’s privilege.”

Her smile became a laugh. “I would expect nothing else.”

That’s about the last of the news for this week I think. 

Ector Thomas Pendragon.

Even by writing his name I feel I’m risking the wrath of some unknown fate so guard this secret with your life. I jest but still Arthur might be annoyed I’ve told anyone. He likes to insist they’re having a daughter. Why, I’ll never know. But he’s Gwen’s problem 75% of time now so I’m not overly bothered. 

It’s helped tremendously that I’ve been able to let him in on so much of what’s really happened over the last ten years. Some things have been easier than others of course. Lancelot was the most recent difficulty. They took it better than I expected. Gwen cried, which nearly set me off, but all the same I think it healed a wound none of us knew we carried.

Arthur joined me at the memorial I made for him by the lake. The same lake as Elyan and the other knights were put to rest in. He thanked me for that. He was quiet the entire way home but he seemed content at the same time. 

-

Sorry I broke off there. King Dollophead himself just dropped by.

He said Gwen was feeling some discomfort in her abdomen but was refusing to let him call a midwife. So naturally he came to bother me. I told him what you told me - and what she told him -  that her body is merely getting a feel for what it’ll need to do for the actual birth. I assured him his son won’t be arriving until the autumn rains start. 

He scowled but finally stopped fretting. About that anyway. I’m copying down his next words directly.

“My son. I’ve been a son and I’ve been a prince. Sometimes I think - no I know - one was valued over the other. I’m not delusional, I know I’ll make more mistakes than he deserves, but I don’t want to make the ones my father did. How do I make him see what a strong ruler is and make sure he knows I love him? Because I tell you Merlin, I’ve not even laid eyes on this child and I already know I love him more than I can even understand. As if I didn’t even know what love was. There are many people I would sacrifice my life for. But I fear what I would sacrifice for him. And I know that’s not a safe attitude. I’m beginning to realize ‘balance’ and ‘Pendragon’ are anything but synonymous.”

It took awhile before I could think of what to say but I hope this was worth something. I’ll let you be the judge.

“Love is what makes people strong, Arthur. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself is proof of that. Not because it is easy, but because it is right. Love can be manipulated true, we’ve all experienced that. So you don’t rest on that alone. No emotion is entirely pure or entirely wicked. It’s the ones that are woven together that determine the result. So teach him those.

“Teach him truth. Truth him justice. Teach him…teach him all that is good. The results will speak for themselves.”

I hope I’m a result you’re proud of Mother. I often wish life had not been what it was for you. I do this because I know you never would and one of us has to care what happens to you. Arthur’s treaty with Lot means life should be better for Ealdor and the other villages - eventually anyway. But if you ever…well you know. 

Gwen would like you here for Ector’s birth if nothing else. I’ll help you plan for that when the time gets closer. Take care of yourself. Until I see you again.

Your loving son,

Merlin