Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Camelot was a dark place.  

Hushed whispers died whenever the piercing sound of metal echoed against the stone floor. The hallways were mostly empty. Servants liked to scurry away whenever a knight drew near. Leon could not remember the last time he had heard a child laughing in these halls.  

It had been over a year since King Uther had died and Arthur had become King, but very little had changed. Not that anyone would have expected it to.   

Sir Leon wiped a strand of hair out of his face and schooled his expression into something cold. He descended the stairs into the courtyard and onto the training field. A cold frisky wind greeted him and helped him remain stoic. He needed to be, to not scoff at the sight before him.  

“Your majesty,” he bowed and ignored the way his insides turned whenever he heard King Arthur’s axe hit dead centre into the wooden, broken shield of a defenceless servant. Servants weren’t supposed to serve here. Arthur brought them here for his own amusement and their torment only.  

“Sir Leon. How nice to see you. Want to join?” Arthur grinned widely at him, grabbed himself another axe and swirled it in his hand.   

“I’m afraid not, Sire.” Leon grimaced and kept his head lowered. “I’m here to bring word from the delegation you’ve sent to Ealdor.”  

Immediately, the King turned serious and put the axe away. “How many casualties?”  

“All of them.” Leon answered through gritted teeth. “It’s always all of them, my Lord.” Always.  

Rage overcame the King’s features, and he grabbed the axe again to throw it through a shrieking mass of waiting servants and knights, before the blade got stuck in a tree at the edge of the forest. “This is IT!” King Arthur yelled. “Emrys wants to play? LET us play. Set fires all around his forest! Smoke him out of his hiding place! I will not let this mockery stand!” His fist hit the table with the axes on and a vein seemed to pop in his head. It was moments like these when the resemblance to Uther Pendragon really shone from his son.  

Leon shuddered but managed not to let it show. “Of course, my Lord. I’ll sent word immediately.” Tomorrow, Leon knew, they would have the wrath of Emrys set against them. He would have protested, but Leon wasn’t insane enough to side with a sorcerer. Not in a kingdom that killed people by mere association.   

Well, okay, to be fair, Arthur hadn’t gone down Uther’s path THAT far.  
Even Arthur Pendragon had shivered the day that Tom the Blacksmith, who had only been an associate of a sorcerer, had been sent to death, his daughter following a day later because she had not ratted her father out.  
But Leon was afraid that this was the path that Arthur Pendragon was headed. Uther’s teachings had made Arthur have his own half-sister banned into the dungeons. The pressure of his expectations had pushed Arthur to deny his own sense of justice and do what was expected of him. What would have been expected of Uther. It was only a matter of time before Morgana’s head too rolled off the executioner's blade.  

So, Leon did what every knight did, he bowed his head and remained quiet. Camelot was still the safest place one could be. That, he thought bitterly, said more about the state of this world than it did about the progressiveness of Camelot.  

“Sir Leon! The King is asking for you!”   

The next morning, Leon was basically thrown out of his dreams. “What?” He asked the serving girl who seemed nervous and quite honestly, terrified. “He’s awake?” King Arthur usually slept until noon. It went without saying that this was not positive news.  

The serving girl bit her lip. “He’s upset.” She said quietly and instantly dooming Leon’s premonitions for the day. “He keeps asking us where ‘Merlin’ is.” She made air quotes, looking shaken and confused. “He says you would know what he means.”  

“A merlin?” Leon blinked, feeling stupidly stunned. “What does he need a bird for?”  

The girl shrugged, not only afraid of Arthur but of Leon as well. Leon couldn’t blame her. There were knights who abused their station, and it wasn’t like the King cared very much when someone complained. Quite the opposite. Everyone who dared to speak out against him was gotten rid of in some way. Leon was one of the least terrifying knights, he wanted to believe, but that didn’t help make the servants less wary.  

“It’s alright. I’ll be there in a second,” Leon assured her and shooed her out of his room.  

Quickly, Leon got up and put on some clothes. If the King demanded his immediate presence, then he didn’t have the time to put on armour. But gods did he wish he did. He always felt saver under a layer of metal. He grabbed his jacket on the way out, shrugging on his boots as he half walked half jumped down the hall, and finally scurried into a sprint.  

The door to King Arthur’s room was half open when Leon arrived, out of breath, so he didn’t really have the time to steel himself before he pushed it open. The King would have heard him hesitate. King Arthur did not allow hesitation.  

“Leon.” Arthur greeted him with a hurried expression as the King just shrugged on his shirt. “Good, you’re awake. I was worried I would wake you. Have you seen Merlin?”  

Leon froze in his steps. ‘What?’ he couldn’t help but think. And who could blame him. Not only had Arthur just politely acknowledged that he’d disrupted Leon’s precious sleep, but he also seemed rather – calm for someone who’s hair stood in all directions. He seemed upset – but calmly upset.   

“I’m sorry, your highness. What is it you need?” Leon asked, not to be impolite.   

The king stopped for a moment, then raised a brow at him. “You can relax, Leon. It’s not your fault that Merlin is the most useless servant I’ve ever had.” He paused and nearly grinned. “Unless you went to the tavern with him last night.”  

Sir Leon was at a loss for words. He hadn’t been to the tavern in years. And what did he mean, ‘Merlin was a useless servant?’ “A servant, Sire? You wanted –“ Why on earth would a King ask his servants for another servant, let alone a ‘useless’ one? “If you need a servant, my Lord, there are plenty at your disposal.” Disposal being the key word here.  

Arthur raised a brow and sat down as he put on his boots. “No. Merlin will do just fine. Besides, he has the schedule for my meetings. Where is he? Don’t tell me Gaius sent him to gather herbs again.”  

Now, Leon thought he must have missed something. “Gaius is – dead, Sire. If you need a physician-“  

Arthur looked up, eyes widening. “Gaius is what?! ” He stared at him openly. If the shock in his face wasn’t any indication to make Leon worry - Uther had Gaius executed years ago – then the next words seriously were. “So that’s why Merlin didn’t show up.” The King cursed and shook his head and immediately got up. “I must go to him.”  

“To – Gaius ?” Leon blinked. Whatever was going on in King Arthur’s head, he didn’t get it at all.   

Arthur blinked at him. “Yes!”  

“But, Sire – He’s been dead for years.” Leon was beginning to sweat.  

Arthur stared at him as if Leon had gone mad. He stopped in his motions to dress himself and stood up straight. Then, something seemed to flicker over his face. Something like dreaded recognition, like he had figured something out, as if it had clicked in his mind. “Okay –“ He said slowly, yet still calmly. “I would think you’re lying to me, but I know you better than that. I KNOW I saw Gaius yesterday. If you think he’s dead – then something is wrong. Have you really not seen Merlin?”  

Leon felt a bit hopeless at this point. “With all due respect, my Lord. I don’t know any Merlin.”  

Arthur stared at him for another long moment, as if he were deep in thought. Then he nodded in quiet understanding. “Ok, alright.” He paused, hand flicking to his forehead. “That simply can’t be true.” He exhaled and closed his eyes, keeping himself collected, and wow, that was new. “I want to be wrong, but - Gather the council. I need to know what’s going on. Nothing is approved until I said so. No matter how old you think your orders are, ask me again. I think we might have been attacked by a sorcerer.”  

That, on the other hand, sounded a lot more like the King Arthur he knew. Leon swallowed. “Yes, Sire.” If sorcery was mentioned, this could not be good.  

“Thank you, Leon. You are dismissed.”  

Leon was out the door before he let out a panicked whisper. “Did the King just thank me ?”  

Chapter Text

In all his years since Arthur’s coronation, Leon had never seen the King look like this.  

 Don’t get him wrong, Arthur had always had a sense of honour and nobility around him. But with time, it had morphed into something fiercer, something sturdy and seemingly unbreakable.  

This man, this stranger before him seemed wise . The authority radiating off him was almost gentle, if not kind. His honour did not border on arrogance, his nobility not on entitlement. There was a patience in him that their King usually didn’t embody.  

Of course, Leon was aware that their King was under constant stress, almost breaking under expectations of the dead, tested by the fear for his people. But that was precisely why this version seemed so foreign to him. This man had clearly been tested. This man had lost and won, but he had never lost the true essence of himself.  

If Leon noticed this change in their King, then it was no wonder that so did everyone else.  

A wave of tenseness lingered in the air, not just emitted from the staff, but enforced by the King’s own behaviour. Upon entering, the King had stared at the council table as if it irritated him. His hand brushed against it, as if it offended him in some way.  

The table was an old one from Uther’s time. Dark wood, decorated by peculiar engravings and matching chairs that all looked the same, except for the King’s. Arthur’s specially made seat was the pinnacle of comfort, yet the King refused to sit on it. He usually sat at the short end of the table, the other end always reserved for visiting Kings or the wife he had never taken. Today, he removed the comfortable chair and took one of the more ordinary ones.  

“Sir Leon-” The King spoke softly as he rose to his feet, startling more than half of his council men for the random sign of respect. King’s did not rise to their feet for any reason, everyone else rose to their feet when he entered or allowed them to speak! This man acted as if he were their equal. “- informed me this morning of a few – things that have alarmed me. My first question to you is, therefore, does anyone here know Merlin?”  

Confused expressions were exchanged, accompanied by worry that not recognising the name of this person might get them executed.   

The King nodded patiently. “Then I’m afraid I was right. There must have been a magical attack on this castle. We must find out who did this, and we must find Merlin.”  

“Sire-,“ Sir Leon rose to his feet, uncomfortable sitting while their King wasn’t. “How are we supposed to find this … Merlin?” How strange it was. This morning, no one had ever heard of this person, now Merlin seemed to be the most important person in the entire castle. “Or the sorcerer who did this?”  

“The sorcerer is not important.” Arthur announced as if it was obvious. As if this went without saying, but the entire table stared at him in stunned silence.   

“Not important?” Leon asked and quickly remembered himself. “I’m sorry, Sire. I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.” He bowed, earning a raised brow from his King.  

“You didn’t.” Arthur assured him slowly. “It’s alright. Sorcery is, of course, a main concern. But we cannot let our fear of magic become more important than the people we care about. Since I seem to be the only one who remembers him, I assume that there are two possible reasons for this.  

“For one, I could – for some reason - be the only person exempt from this enchantment. Either that, or I am the only one affected by it.” He paused, thinking for a second.  
“To determine the answer, I will be asking you a few questions about what is different here than in my memories. I would like you to paraphrase what the latest council topics were. If there were laws, I want to know which. If we got new servants, I wish to hear their names. Please, go on.” With that, King Arthur finally sat down, waving his hand to urge the council members to speak.  

Beside the door, Leon could see a servant tense. He couldn’t blame them. The King barely ever mentioned servants and when he did, it usually ended with their death or ‘fun games’ such as axes being thrown at them.   

“Well.” Leon began nervously, after it became clear that no one else dared to speak up. “We’ve had four new servants last week. Their names are Colin, Bradley, Katie and Angel. They – erm – have been doing well for their first week and I am positive that they will improve shortly,” Leon went on, hoping he hadn’t put the new servants in a situation.  

Arthur nodded at him, contemplating his words hard, hands folded in front of him, almost hiding his judging eyes.   

Leon continued, “We did discuss the raise of taxes last week because of the food shortage and the increased need for knights –“  

Arthur raised his hand, stopping Leon effectively. “That, there. What do you mean, increased need for knights?”  

Leon shivered. “Well, as I mentioned yesterday, the situation with Emrys is getting out of hand, my Lord.”   

Arthur turned to fully look at him, incomprehensibly. “The situation with Emrys?”  

“Yes, Sire.” Leon nodded and watched the other knights and council members nod in agreement.   

Their King’s comprehension seemed to have come to a halt. “Please go on and enlighten me. What is our situation with Emrys?” Those words made even Leon want to run. King Arthur hated it when people reminded him of the number of men he’d lost in those battles. Answering it felt like a certain way to get his head chopped off.  

Leon shuddered but followed the order anyway. “For the past few years, until his lordship died, your father and then you have been sending delegations of knights into Emrys territory.” He paused, hesitant, and unsure what their King truly wished to hear.  

“Go on.” Arthur urged him on with a wink of his hand.  

“Well…” Leon said slowly. “They are dead, my Lord.”  

Arthur stared at him for a moment, his eyes widening slightly, but otherwise he did not move. “Who is this Emrys? What does he want?”  

Terror rushed through Leon’s veins. This, he knew, was a test; to find out what kind of enchantment had befallen them. The question was, what were the consequences of failing this test? “He is your enemy, Sire. He is a warlock who lives in the forest near to Cendred’s kingdom. Nearly a decade ago, he revealed himself when his village was attacked by bandits. Your father sent out knights to catch the sorcerer, but with no success. We have been fighting a ruthless war against him, but so far -.” Leon hesitated. “Yesterday you ordered to smoke him out of his forest.”  

Arthur stared at him. “I did?” He looked down, half alarmed, half lost in his own thoughts.  

Leon nodded and swallowed.   

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, a slight panic making him twitch in his seat. “An attacked Village at the border to Cendred’s kingdom. Tell me, Leon, is the forest he lives in, by any chance, close to Ealdor?”  

“That is the village he lives in, Sire.” Leon confirmed, still unsure why the King was asking.  

There was another pause in which the King seemed to steel his expressions even further. “How many villagers were injured?”  

Leon blinked, surprised by the question. Their King had never asked about the villagers of Ealdor before. For what purpose? Arthur’s eyes turned to him, urging him to answer. “None, Sire. He is protecting them.”  

Arthur nodded and let out a breath of relief. “How did this Emrys react to our negotiations?”   

The room froze. Everyone was holding their breath, including Leon. The King finally seemed to notice.   

“What is his demand?” Arthur inquired further, sitting up a little, looking incredulous at the mere idea that they did not know.  

But there had never been negotiations!  

Sir Leon finally dared to raise his voice once more. “Your majesty – You yourself told us that negotiating with sorcerers was impossible. Emrys has declared that anyone who would attack his village would pay the prize.”  

Arthur stared at him, then his council. “That is all?”  

Leon stared at him. Everyone was staring at him. ‘That was all?’ They repeated the question. ‘ That was all?’ was the question they wanted to ask him .   

Finally, Sir Leon nodded. “Yes, Sire. That is all he asked.”  

The King was speechless and openly distraught. “Alright. I see now. I suppose that this means that I am the one who is enchanted. This level of change would not happen overnight. There are many faces here I do not recognise and many people I expected to be here are missing. Even a sorcerer who were powerful enough to change everyone’s memories would not have managed to make them all vanish.  
Even the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth would not be able to change time and space to this degree. And if they did, this seems to be an odd use for it.  
I believe I might have been brought here.” He nodded to himself, his moment of clarity making the council even more afraid and wary.  

Who – they wondered – would King Arthur let his anger out on next? Except, he did not seem angry. He was alarmed, but not overly overwhelmed.  

“Sir Leon,-“ Leon startled as he was suddenly addressed once more. “I want someone to ready my horse. By noon, a delegation of knights and I will go to Ealdor. I need to hear Emrys’ demands for myself.”  

Sir Leon held his breath. For a moment, he’d been sure he would be punished for giving unpleasant answers. It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, Leon felt even more lost than before. “Sire – you wish to come with us ?” So far, the King had left himself and Leon out of these missions. Leon, because he knew how to handle the castle and staff. To find a new knight who was suited for this job was nearly impossible and only made the King’s life harder, so the King kept him safe. It was also why Leon could be a little more lenient with his opinion than other members of the council.  

“You may stay here if you are afraid.” Arthur announced with no hesitation guiding his voice. “Merlin was born and raised in Ealdor. I am positive that I will find him there.”  

Now, Leon was completely thrown for a loop. How had they suddenly circled back to that person? “Hold on… You wish to face Emrys, THE Emrys, for a serving boy?!” Leon nearly burst with his questions. An instant later, he regretted bursting at all, because the council looked so terrified for him that Leon was reminded who he was talking to. All blood left his face in an instant.  

The King rolled his eyes. Unperturbed by Leon’s fear. “Sir Leon, you are a knight. If you don’t feel ready to save a damsel in distress, then I fear you might not have read your own job description.” The King grinned as if that had been a joke.  
Nervous, forced laughter followed in his wake, a trigger response to earlier attempts of the King to be funny that had ended in severe, collective punishment. This now caused the King to frown in complete irritation. He shook his head. “This council is dismissed.” 

Leon wasn’t sure he would ever recover.   

Chapter Text

The King had gone insane.  

This became very clear on their way deep into the forest of Ascetir. And that made Arthur’s declaration at the council that he might be enchanted or taken here from another universe far more credible.  
For a long while, the King had been too deeply bothered by his own thoughts to bother sharing them. Which meant Leon’s observations were just that: observations. But the more he observed, the more he started to believe. 

Where their King would usually ride with his head held high and his chest swollen, the very picture of arrogance, this King was far more alert. He did not ride between a protective shield of knights but ahead of them, his eyes straying over their surroundings like a man who rode out on patrols on the regular.   

“You really are not our King, are you?” Leon asked, careful not to speak too loudly. He rode close to King Arthur, while the other knights seemed to prefer the distance.  

Arthur’s face flickered to him, making Leon tense in anticipation of the backlash.  

What if he was wrong? What if his King wanted to test him?  

“No. I don’t think I am.” Arthur announced in a friendly tone, a contrast so stark and striking that Leon nearly had a heart attack. “But I am worried,” Arthur added seriously. “I don’t know what brought me here, or how the situation with magic could escalate like this.” He paused. “I feel like Merlin’s disappearance is the main change, though. As if this is a world where he never came to Camelot in the first place. And it’s strange that that mere fact see,s somehow connected to this powerful sorcerer who can wipe out armies. I have to admit, I am way out of my depth here.”  

Leon’s eyes widened slightly, and he could feel the other knight’s eyes on him. The King was confiding in him! The way he spoke sounded almost open, as if he wanted Leon to give his own opinion. A part of Leon still warned him that this could be a trick. Their King sometimes did sound similar, but he usually threw people who were stupid enough to fall for it in the dungeons. If this was a charade, what did their King want? For them to play along? Or for them to look through the ruse? “Well-“ Leon cleared his throat. “If I may speak, Sire –“  

Arthur narrowed his eyes as he ducked his head to avoid a low hanging branch. “Of course you may.”  

“You seem … different to us as well. To us, it is hard to imagine that this – servant –“  

“Merlin,” the King corrected him automatically, surprisingly bothered that Leon hadn’t used his name.  

“Right.” Leon cleared his throat. “That this Merlin might be connected to that change of yours.”  

“Describe change.” Arthur blinked at him, looking almost innocent.  

Leon paled at the sudden order. “Erm –“  

“Speak, Leon. I don’t bite.”  

“No, you don’t.” Leon answered, thinking of lit pyres and cold dungeons. He averted his face, not daring to speak, suddenly losing his courage.  

The King seemed to understand. The realisation overcame him slowly, almost maddeningly. “Wait, is everyone scared of me?” Incredulous, the King looked around, only to find his knights quickly pretending to be distracted. Distraught, King Arthur turned back around on his horse and stared ahead. “What kind of King am I?”  

Leon cleared his throat. “A strong one, my Lord.”  

Where usually, the King would have beamed and agreed and bragged about the compliment, this King raised his brows, looking right through Leon. Were Arthur pretending, it struck Leon, King Arthur would not have noticed. His suspicions were confirmed a second later. “That – I know what that means, Leon. It means I rule by force and fear! My father ruled that way. But I don’t.” Leon’s non-answer was answer enough for him.  
“Except that I do.” It seemed to shock him, the otherworldly King. “I do.” That last bit was final. Struck, hurt, the King stared at his reigns and nudged his horse ahead, as if he couldn’t bear to listen to more of that. 

Leon remained behind him, stunned into silence.  

The King Arthur he knew only knew two emotions, delight and anger. Pain was not an emotion he would show. Opinions was not something he pardoned or even encouraged. King Arthur created facts, created the world based on his own visions. There was no space for anyone else in it. To see him so open to criticism, criticism he was able to read off Leon’s silence, the mere fact that he was so obsessed with this man they had never even heard off, it proved something.  

If only Leon could say what it was.   

For a forest so full of danger, it was relatively quiet, Leon thought as he checked the sky for any unusual weather occurrences. He could never be too sure. Of the few people who had survived Emrys, at least two had mentioned that the sorcerer had controlled the sky and sent lightning their way.   

Birds were singing, bees buzzing and even butterflies made their way towards them. At least they knew how to feel.  

King Arthur moved his head from left to right, then back at the path. “This is not how I remember the road to Ealdor. We should be heading further west,” he declared.  

Rumbling murmurs answered the King and Leon once again found himself mediating for them. He just hoped that it wouldn’t backfire.  “Your majesty, the original path to Ealdor is infested with flesh eating plants. They appeared very quickly after Emrys’ reveal. That’s why we usually go another way.”  

King Arthur took a deep breath, nodding slightly. “Alright.” He moved them to a halt and quickly dismounted his horse. “If we’re heading this way, we will need longer to Ealdor. We should take a break. Water the horses and get something to eat.”  

“You want to take up camp – here ?” In this forest? For a moment, Leon wished the old, cowardly King was back, because that man would have never taken residence in the middle of Emrys territory. Given, he also wouldn’t have allowed any breaks based on their condition, but that was beside the point.  

“Yes.” The King said without any preamble or hesitation. “If I’m right about who this Emrys is, then I’m sure we’re fine.”  

“You know who – “ WHAT?! Now, Leon was more than worried, beyond scared and feeling like he was throwing his own life away.   

Arthur looked at him, then shrugged before he went to unsaddle his own horse, what the fuck ?! “This bandit attack you mentioned – from what I gather it’s the same one that I remember, except that Merlin never came to Camelot, which means he never left his village and I never led their battle against the bandits-“  

‘Excuse me, what the fuck?!’ Leon’s brain chimed yet again.   

Arthur, not even aware of Leon’s internal struggle, continued mercilessly. “So, the sorcerer must be the same as the one who helped us out back then.”  

‘Excuse me, what?????’ Leon gaped at him.  

“He was Merlin’s friend,” Arthur continued undeterred. “I believe it was my presence that kept him from helping his own people. He was afraid I would kill him, and that’s why many more people died than they should have. I later understood that the reason he refused to interfere had not been his fear of the bandits, but his fear of me.” He looked down, ashamed. “This man, William, he sacrificed himself for me in the end. He didn’t think I was a bad person, so he never attacked me outright.” King Arthur paused, while all the knights watched him frozenly. “He was a good man.”  

“He was a sorcerer.” Leon whispered, not believing his own ears.  

“I know.” Arthur said thoughtfully, appearing almost – human in that moment. “And still a good man. He was a sorcerer, but he didn’t automatically use violence. I don’t think he even wanted to use magic. I think Will knew how dangerous magic truly is. Besides, t he druids are peaceful people, and they worship magic. The Dragonlord I met years later was full of hatred, but he too was very human.” He paused. “I know that magic corrupts. That it makes the best people turn evil. But I don’t think that everyone is lost from the moment they first touched it.”  

“But Sire...” Leon gasped. “Emrys is magic incarnate. Magic itself.”    

Arthur turned to him in surprise. “If that is true, then it is probably too late for him by now.” The fact seemed to sadden him. “But let’s not assume. We need to know for sure.”  

With that speech, with that insanity , King Arthur returned to his horse and led it by the reigns to the nearest river.   

Leon stared after him, his blood pressure audible in his own ears.   

The entire interaction, every single word, it made him wonder who this mysterious, incredible Merlin must have been, if this was what he’d made of their King. Suddenly, Leon felt an own need to meet the man, to bring him to Camelot.  

Perhaps the man could save them all.   

They were already in the middle of making a fire and building King Arthur’s resting place, when someone stumbled into the clearing. They didn’t have longer than a second, heard no more than a yelp before the figure let a bucket of water spill onto he forest ground and ran off.   

It must have been a villager from Ealdor. No one else would dare venture these woods alone.  

Leon immediately grabbed his sword, but the otherworldly King stopped him. “Leave her,” Arthur said, with a calm wave of his hand. “In fact, I want you all to put down your weapons.”  

The order received silent protest and fearful, questioning glances. The King was fumbling with his own sword. “We’re facing a sorcerer. One, as you told me before, has killed entire legions. If, at any point during this confrontation, you wish to save your lives, please do. If this sorcerer wishes to kill us, I doubt that we have the upper hand.” Tracing the sharp edge of his blade, the King didn’t even look at them, despite remaining calm. “You are advised to run. Do not fight him.” He sheathed his sword like a warrior who regularly headed into war.  

This was not the fearlessness of a mindless King; this was the sound of a legend.  

That speech, Leon thought with a racing heart, might have been the perfect opposite to what their King had told them less than a fortnight ago.   

After that, they all waited with anticipation. Some held on to their swords out of habit, playing with the handle or sharpening the blades, others had put them aside. It was eerie. Normally, the knights had some kind of routine as to what kind of topics they were allowed to talk about. They knew how to entertain their King. This situation was unpredictable for them. What was allowed, what wasn’t? Were they allowed to speak, to walk around and pace? They had no idea.   

The King watched them with a concern so untypical, it only fuelled their uneasiness.   

“Okay, that’s it. You’re all being very weird, so I’m going to take a look if Emrys is anywhere near us.” The King got up to his feet and left his sword behind as he went to the edge of their camp.   

Leon let out a tense sigh, seeing everyone else do the same.   

…  

A rustle of wind, nothing more than a simple sound disrupted the silence. The knights, knowing they were doomed, barely had enough time to choose their path of retreat when from one moment to the next, the sky darkened. From where King Arthur had gone to investigate, a magical wave or pure power shot through the trees, nearly throwing them against the nearest tree.  

Something was shot past them and got shot right into the bark of a tree, nearly felling it.  

It took a small flash of lighting, accompanied by rumbling thunder for Leon to recognise King Arthur as the object. Panic flooded him. Enchanted or not, this man was their sovereign! Without him, war was imminent. Chaos would roam the realm. Leon immediately reached for his sword, but King Arthur must have noticed because he was staring right at him.   

“SIR LEON, PUT DOWN THAT SWORD!” A groan and a cough followed, as the King failed to raise his arms. They were bound to the tree in golden chains.  

Leon let his weapon fall like the metal had burned him.   

From the edge of the forest, a figure emerged, dressed entirely in a mixture of red and blue. Old capes of both Camelot and Cendred’s knights, Leon thought while noticing his fellow men finally deciding that their King’s suggestion to run was perhaps their best chance to survive today. Leon too, was overcome by fear. And for a moment, may he be shamed, he considered to follow them into the bushes.  

The hooded figure was wearing a mask, Leon saw then, made from bark, and looking like an oversized skull. Merely his eyes remained open and visible, angry, golden and glowing from the might of his power.   

“Your highness, what do we do!” Leon shouted, his pride not allowing him to flee, his honour not permitting him to fight.   

“DON’T FIGHT HIM!” Arthur yelled, his voice louder and more certain than Leon had ever heard him.   

Leon stepped back, breaking leafs and small branches under his metal shoes.  

The figure before him tilted his head as he approached, steps slowing and arms lowering, letting Arthur down a fraction. “The King himself.” He scoffed. “What do you want, King Arthur?!” At the mere sound of his thundering voice, the King’s eyes snapped open wide and down at his enemy. The sorcerer’s fingers, long and slender, made a gesture, letting Arthur down with magic but tightening his hold on him. Arthur’s head was knocked back against the tree before he was able to visualise his shock once more. “I thought I told you and your stupid legions to leave this village alone! How many of your knights do you wish to see dead –“  

He was interrupted by the King’s incredulous gasp. “ You ’re Emrys?”  

The question seemed redundant, Leon thought. But that was why it struck him that this man did recognise something within the man.   

Emrys twitched for a second, confusion fogging his hatred.  

A growl was his answer. Suddenly, the sorcerer stepped away to leave some distance between him and the King. Arthur remained where he sank to his knees, his hand to his throat as if to feel that he could breathe again.   

“I have every reason to kill you.” The sorcerer said out loud, his hands trembling in front of him, his voice soaked in vitriol. “EVERY reason!” 
He took a deep breath. “You’re hunting my kind. But-!” He paused, his stance tensed slightly. “Your hatred is fuelled by your fathers' wrongs and his misjudged teachings. When you sent your legions, you leave me no choice but to defend my people. Now that you have come to me yourself, I will offer you a chance. Take my mercy as a lesson that magic isn’t blind to reason. Their deaths are on your hands, not mine.” He took a deep breath. “Leave my forest today and take your soldiers with you, knowing you could never defeat me. Take this as an offering of peace.” He paused again. “That is, if peace is truly what you’re after.”  

He paused, hesitant, but sure.  

“Should you ever return, I cannot guarantee for your safety.”  

He stepped back, swirling around with maddening elegance. Actual fog covered his form and took him back into the depth of the forest, painting over his steps.   

Sir Leon’s heart was racing, his mind reeling and his knees buckling. They were not dead! He’d spared them! Why would a sorcerer spare them?  

The King, however, seemed to be distracted for a completely different reason.   

“ Mer lin?”  

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand.” King Arthur was whispering, his voice rough and shaken, eyes wide and staring at nothing as they wallowed in Emrys’ absence.

Sir Leon felt that same shock vibrating through him, although for a different reason. He was a bit distracted trying to appreciate the fact that they’d met Emrys and survived!!! ‘holy fuck, we’re alive!’

But the King was in a deep, frozen state. His eyes seemed unfocused as they followed the shadows that Emrys had left behind. The word, the name was dying on his lips, again and again, even as no sound accompanied the syllables. ‘Merlin.’

Leon couldn’t follow the King’s train of thought, but he could tell how heavy it weighted on him. Which meant, the knight had to get himself together; he had to protect his King, get him back home to Camelot, or at least back to a state of mind resembling sanity. In that, at least, he had experience. Leon took a deep, shaky breath.
“You said the sorcerer’s name was William.” Leon tried carefully as he tried to get back onto his feet. He would deny to his dying breath how shaky his legs felt, how they barely supported his weight, how even his voice wavered.

Arthur didn’t turn to him. He just repeated what he’d already declared. “That was Merlin.” He paused and continued more quietly. “I know his voice.”

Leon stared at him incomprehensibly. He could see the pain in Arthur’s eyes, the confusion, the grief, the fear. King Arthur had already lost more than one friend to magic, that much was evident. In that, he finally resembled the King Leon knew.

What was new was the hopelessness. The last time King Arthur had looked so – surprised, shocked – had been when Morgana had betrayed them and back then, he’d been lost, but not inactive. Somehow, this was much worse. As if this betrayal was entirely unexpected, as if it was far, far beyond his imagination.

Leon watched the enchanted King for a second, only to understand that the man was stuck in a circle of disbelief and denial. Hence, why he kept repeating himself like a madman.

They did not have time for this. Leon cursed. They needed to get out of here! Which meant, the King needed to see sense, and soon. “Merlin is Emrys. “Leon stepped closer to the foreign King, slowly, as if approaching an injured child. “This – This man,” he pointed at the bushes Emrys had disappeared in, “the one we rode to Ealdor for, the guy we were supposed to save under the risk of our lives – THAT Merlin – he has magic, he is magic. We should – we should go back to Camelot and reconsider our strategy.” He sent him a questioning look, hoping it was enough.

Arthur was making no move to leave; he barely even glanced at Leon as he paid him no mind. He swallowed hard, still too focused on the reveal to function properly as he sank down against the tree. “I don’t understand.” He ignored Leon, back at the beginning of the disaster in his mind. “He’s a sorcerer? Merlin has – That can’t be! William was the sorcerer!”

“Evidently not.” Leon said, but they were long past that. The adrenaline was pushing all his senses of self preservation to the forefront of his mind. Emrys had given them a warning, a fair warning even. They should get out of here.
Immediately!
He regretted his words a second later when he noticed his King burying his face in his hand.

“How could this have happened.” He was nearly crying! “Merlin is the kindest, the purest soul I know. He’s an idiot – but he’s not – he’s not –“

“Evil.” Leon finished the sentence for him, the desperation in his King’s voice making him falter. It was marvellous, really, to see Arthur like this. This was not a joke, not a ruse to lure in the sorcerer, as one could possibly assume. This Arthur was genuinely upset and – was that guilt?

The King’s head snapped to him, anger fuelling the fire in his eyes. “Of course he isn’t!”

Leon jumped at those words, not expecting something so fierce to come from his King at this moment. “Sire – If he’s Emrys –“

“Don’t –“ Arthur held up his hand, refusing to believe this simple truth. Finally, he got up and began to pace in an angry speed. A cold wind followed him, as he nearly stomped through the dry leafs, breaking branches and scaring birds before he turned on his heels. “He’s not – he can’t be evil.” Arthur covered his mouth once again, certainty dripping from his voice. Then, he shook his head, turned on his heels once more and marched in the opposite direction. “He offered peace!“

“You don’t actually believe him!” Leon asked quietly, fearfully. Which was worse, he wondered, a King who killed their enemies without mercy, or a King who trusted them without question?

“I don’t know.” The King replied heavily. “I-“ Suddenly, he stopped, determination fuelling him. “No. This is wrong!” His face set into decisive certainty. “Merlin isn’t evil. If he’s magic incarnate himself, if he saw no other way to defeat those bandits, if he saw no other way to defend himself and his village than through magic, then this is my fault.”

“That- doesn’t make sense.” Leon blinked, not following. “How is any of this your fault?” Especially his. This Arthur hadn’t done anything!

The King was apparently talking to himself, as he began to pace again, gesturing widely in front of him. “If he’s corrupted, then he is because he never had my help.” Arthur said and swallowed his guilt. “And you heard him. He offered peace. Which means, there is a part left in him that refuses to kill! He’s not beyond help! He can’t be! If there is any sorcerer who would listen to reason, who could break away from the corruption, then it has to be Merlin.”

“Sire!” Leon said aghast. “It could be a trap!”

“Why?” Arthur swirled around to him. “What kind of trap would this be? He had me in his grasp, he could have killed me, but he didn’t! Why would he want me in his village –“ The King was nearly begging Leon to agree.

“He said he wants you out of it!” Leon said breathlessly.

“That’s stupid, he should know that I’d come back!” Arthur shook his head and pulled at his own hair, deep in thought, as if this was the only thing that made sense. He was, again, forgetting, that this was not his Merlin. “A peace treaty doesn’t just go wordlessly. We need to sign papers.”

“I don’t think Emrys is much of a bureaucrat.”

“Well –“ Arthur paused helplessly, desperately and quickly ignored the thought. “Anyways, I’m not leaving without him.” That, if anything, was an order.

“Without –“ Leon’s eyes bulged. “You want to take Emrys to Camelot?!”

“He’s my best friend, Leon. I’m not going to leave him here.”

“He’s ...” Faintly, Leon heard the voice of the King he knew, heard words spoken years ago: “Kings can’t afford to have friends.” He thought he finally understood what he’d meant.

“Come on.”

Before he gave Leon a chance to question him further, the King had already taken his madness and carried it deeper into the forest of Ascetier.

…

As soon as Leon had caught up to him, he tried to remedy his silence and decided to inquire his King once more. “Sire, You keep saying that Emrys were corrupted, but that’s not what the legends say.” Leon fell into step beside him, internally screaming at himself if he’d gone insane too.

“And what do the legends say?” The King asked, actually listening to him, despite the anger in his voice.

Who the anger was directed at, Leon wasn’t sure. “He is magic incarnate, right?”

“Yes, you told me that already.” Arthur said and pushed another branch out of the way, never letting Leon deter him from his goal.

“So, from what I understand, he was born with magic.”

Arthur stopped in his tracks, flabbergasted, as he finally faced him. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is!” Leon insisted. “They say that he could use magic since the day he was born.”

“But-“ Arthur stared at him. “If that were true, then the Merlin I know –“

“He probably hid his magic from you.” Leon said seriously.

Arthur stared at him. Blue eyes boring into Leon’s. What came out of his mouth, however, were not words Leon would have expected. Even now, even after all the madness Leon had already witnessed, there was, apparently, still room for more. “You mean –,“ Arthur began slowly.

“He lied to you.” Leon nodded.

“He was breaking the law.”

“Every day.” Leon confirmed.

“By merely existing?”

The cold wind may as well have slapped Leon in his face. He could only stare at the foreign King, watch the complete lack of comprehension in those eyes. “I’m saying he might have fooled you.”

Arthur seemed conflicted now. “He’s supposed to have lied – for nearly ten years?” Disbelief, doubt.

“Since he arrived in Camelot.” Leon itched to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “Sire, Emrys told us to leave. I think we should be thankful and take that offer –“

“You’re trying to tell me that Merlin saved my life and drank poison for me and warned me of assassins and magical attacks and my evil turning sister and the troll my father married and –“ He seemed distraught, listing situations that Leon could not follow. “No one can fake being that good for that long, Leon. Especially not when you’re corrupted.” Arthur concluded, completely irritated now.

It was then, finally, that Leon began to understand that the King’s opinion of this Merlin character was far more intense, far more important than his war against magic. And that, finally, hit the nail on the head.
This man already did not believe that magic itself was evil. He believed that it made people evil. Like a disease. The King Leon knew had believed killing Emrys would put an end to magic, to war itself, because Emrys had been the villain.

THIS was the main difference between this King and theirs(, aside from the obvious obsession).

Arthur opened his mouth once more, this time painfully conflicted. “Leon – can you tell me – apart from defending his village from bandits and the legions I sent his way – did he ever – do anything?”

Once again, Leon was startled by the question. “Sire?”

“Did he attack someone? Poison someone? Did he send assassins or something? What is it that Emrys does?! If he truly is evil, if he was corrupted, then there must be something!” Arthur was asking him, a mix of desperation and hope in his eyes.

Leon went silent. He’d asked that question before, but somehow this felt deeper than that. It felt like Arthur was no longer asking if the corruption of Emrys was born of love for his people, King Arthur was asking if Emrys was corrupted at all.
 If magic, at all, corrupted.
“My lord –“ It was as if it were easier for this Arthur to fathom that he’d been wrong about magic than to think he were wrong about Merlin. And only then did it register with Leon that this question had never before been posed. And it was a good one. “I don’t know.” Then he thought about it before he found a worrying answer. “No, my Lord.” In fact, Leon felt a little lost as to how little he’d ever considered this and how shockingly certain he could answer.

Arthur paled noticeably. “So, all this time-” He paused. “We were the villains all along, were we not?”

The pain, the grief, could not have been harder or more tangible. And finally, Leon understood. Finally, it caught onto him the way that guilt does. He understood that this revelation had turned their world on its axis. The war against magic had once been the centre of the universe. Suddenly, it was Emrys himself they seemed to be circling around. And it changed everything.

It changed who they were.

Silently, solemnly, they marched towards Ealdor like criminals to the pyre.

Emrys must not have expected them to ignore his warnings, because when they entered the village, his costume hung over a totem near a fire.

Leon held his breath at the visual reminder of whose Kingdom they had just entered. Arthur, however, seemed to be distracted by the village itself.

People were busting about in the small village. It seemed peaceful and calm, underlining Arthur’s assumption that magic may not be as evil as they’d thought.

That was, until the villagers noticed Arthur; and panicked.

“EMRYS! Intruders!” Someone yelled for help, and they started into a run, barricading themselves in their homes. Some of them scattered and hid in the woods.  

A second later, a man jogged in their direction, panic written all over his face. In hindsight, it should have been obvious who he was, but at that moment Leon did not recognise him. The man was slim, young, a built that must have been hidden by the many coats because Leon really would not have recognised him had Arthur not been staring right at him.

Leon stopped beside Arthur, waiting for the man to approach. Heaving, the man’s eyes were directed at the totem, at his costume, but when he spotted them, saw his people retreat behind him, Emrys decided not to move much closer.

This was the moment Leon recognised him, and it forced a surprised yelp from his lips. Emrys – Merlin – he wasn’t just young; he was younger than both of them! He had black, curly hair, high cheekbones and almost comically large ears. A friendly face was darkened by his fear and the responsibilities on his shoulders. He seemed so – human.

It reminded Leon of how weak and vulnerable most of the sorcerers had seemed whose fate had led them to the pyre. Leon paled at the onslaught of guilt he felt at the memory. They had killed innocent people, hadn’t they?

Emrys raised his hand and his dooming voice to intimidate them, although it was a lost cause without the mask and cape. “Didn’t I tell you to leave!” It was not a question.

Suddenly, Leon understood why Emrys wore that costume.

Arthur took a deep breath, sounding more pained than ever, when he reached for his sword, slowly, quietly, and let it fall to the ground.

Merlin twitched, apparently close to cursing them but realising in surprise and mistrust what the King was doing.

Leon followed his example as he noticed Emrys’ patience, finally deciding to trust the mad King and his insane instincts.

“Merlin.” The King began, making the sorcerer’s eyes widen.

“How do you know that name!” He asked, voice raised and eyes narrowed in pure hatred. A wind came up, surrounding him in silent warning, but Arthur did not seem deterred by that.

“I’m not your King.” Arthur said calmly.

“You never were!” Emrys hissed back the obvious truth, head held high and power carrying his voice deep into the forest.

“No, you don’t understand.” Arthur stepped closer, pleadingly, although he stopped immediately when that caused Emrys to flinch.

And how wild it was to see Emrys, the Emrys, scared of them. It didn’t make sense, and yet it did.

“I was enchanted.” King Arthur confessed. “This is not the Kingdom I recognise, and you are not the man I know. But I am also not the King who attacked you.” He had his hands held up. Coming from the weaponless King, it was a sign of peace. From Emrys, it would have been their cue to run.

Emrys scoffed. “And you think I would believe that?”

“No.” The King shook his head and took a deep breath before he knelt down before the farming boy. “Which is why I’m here. I'm handing my life over to you.”

Chapter Text

“I’m handing my life over to you.”

Leon turned his head to the mad King, very, very slowly.

Leon knew without a doubt that the King was not kidding, but Emrys did not have any reason to believe him. That said, he had no reason to keep them alive either. “If you’re here to kill me and my kind, then you’re facing the wrong man.” Merlin said as soon as he caught his voice. “I won’t fall for your tricks. Handing over your life to me – you’re giving your soldiers a reason to attack, aren’t you?!”

That wouldn’t even make sense, Leon thought but bit his lips to keep his thoughts to himself. He understood where that paranoia was coming from. He himself was also conflicted by his own doubts. His King was enchanted. Emrys could have made him like this, this pliant and calm and obsessed.
It was just that if that were the case, then either, Emrys had done it to kill the King – which so far, he had failed to do – or to end the war against, which didn’t sound very evil. And Leon didn’t know anyone who were, at the moment, powerful enough to do something like this.

Arthur finally dared to speak up once more. “I would never kill you. I would never send my men after you. I’m not him.” He was pleading. Leon held his breath.

Merlin raised a brow in vicious amusement. “Right.” He laughed dryly. “Because there is a universe out there in which the King of Camelot wouldn’t kill a sorcerer!”

The words had more of an effect on the King than the sorcerer would ever know. Leon could see it, the way the King sank a little, defeated. “Merlin-“ Arthur’s troubled voice tried once more, conflicted, terrified by the certainty with which Merlin spoke. He was afraid to lose him, Leon knew. This wasn’t even his Merlin.

“DO NOT CALL ME THAT!” Emrys suddenly snapped and stepped closer, making Leon flinch backwards. His King had no such qualms. “That is the name my MOTHER gave me. You don’t have the RIGHT!” His anger was mixed with fear. He was vulnerable like this, without his cape and the mask that covered him in the faith of a thousand druids and the power of magic itself. “The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because you put down your sword! I KNOW that killing you won’t change anything. After you, there will only be an even more ruthless King who will use your death as an excuse to hunt us even more! There will be more bloodshed, and these grounds are soaked enough in blood! So, leave, before you share their resting place!” His words were final, his voice loud, his eyes clear.

But Arthur’s expression softened in relief. “I was right.” His relief confused the enemy further. “You’re still you.”

Emrys stepped backwards. “I don’t KNOW you!” The sorcerer was now looking around nervously, as if he feared knights to jump out of the bushes, as if they were already attacking the people he was meant to protect, as if this were a distraction. It was a good call.

“But I know you.” Arthur said strained, but softly. “You’d never hurt a fly. Not if you didn’t absolutely have to.” Then, he grimaced. “And this means, that I was wrong about magic.”

Merlin blinked slowly, then he turned back around to face him incredulously. “What?”

What Arthur said next was final: “I thought that magic corrupted, but if you are magic, and if you haven’t changed – If you’re still you, if this was always you, then magic cannot be evil.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “WHO are you really! And what do you want!”

The King seemed to hesitate now, but his eyes never strayed, never wavered. “I’m here to tell you that I will legalise magic.”

Leon froze. Okay, he had not thought that far! For once, he felt empathetic to Emrys, because the man looked like he’d been struck by lightning.

“You wouldn’t.” The man said certainly, like a man whose kindness had been abused too often.

“I swear it.” With those words, Arthur reached into his pockets and pulled out a silver object. An object that made Leon pale beyond comprehension. He wasn’t seriously doing this, was he?! “And this will be my proof.” Arthur handed it out to the sorcerer, like a soul on a silver platter.

Leon was as speechless as Emrys was.

But the King was determined. “Sir Leon is my witness that I will now hand this sigil over to you. This sigil carries the symbol of the house of De Bois, of my mother.” Leon knew the weight of this object, the significance of it. He was witness to something historic, something impossible. “Owning it will give you a legitimate right to the throne of Camelot –“

“What?” For the first time, Merlin let his hand sink, his voice weak in it’s confusion, but that did not deter Arthur. In fact, it seemed to spur him on.

“Should I be going back on my word, should there be anything at all making you fear me once more, you will likely kill me.” Arthur said this soberly, not an itch of fear in his voice, not a flicker of doubt. “With this, you can rest assured that the next King of Camelot will rule in your favour. Because you will be that king.”

“You’re luring me out.” Emrys said carefully. “You’re saying all that just to lead me to Camelot and execute me there.”

“You shall remain here.” Arthur said quickly, making Leon blink in surprise. Only an hour ago, he had been insistent to convince Emrys to come with them. Now, it seemed that making Merlin feel save, to appease him, was more important than that.
“Let me come back to your village, only me or Leon, to ask you for your opinion on the magic laws. You will not have to leave this forest until the day your life is no longer free for hunting.”

The sorcerer was shaking now, his hands falling to his sides. He turned his head in search for someone to tell him whether he was being messed with. “Why?!” His question was stronger than his fear, his expression even more fierce. “Even if it were true and you’re not this realm’s King Arthur Pendragon, then what convinced you to do this?”

A surprised look crossed the King’s features. He was still keeping his hand outstretched with the sigil. “You.” It sounded half like a question, like he was confused that it wasn’t obvious. When Merlin only narrowed his glance, Arthur rose to his feet and stepped closer, this time receiving no reaction. “Where I’m from, the Kingdom I live in, you are my friend-”

Emrys scoffed.

Again, Leon could not blame him.

“My closest friend,” Arthur said with emotion. “I depend on your council. I value your opinion, because I know you’re nothing if not honest. And you’ve always advised me well and made me a better king. When I woke up here and learned that we are at war with the great Emrys, I thought he was William-”

“What?” Merlin looked aghast, as if that were the most absurd thing he had heard in his life. Then he seemed to realise that Arthur could not possibly know the name of his friend and that seemed to hit it home for him, the King was not joking.

“I realise now that he probably lied to me to protect you.” Arthur quickly corrected himself. “What I mean to say is, I came to this forest to speak with him, to see if he were corrupted by magic, and see if he could be saved. Only to learn that all this time, it was you. And you aren’t different from the Merlin I know. You’re just like him. You’re protective and merciful and kind-hearted. Otherwise, I’d already be dead. And while it scares me that you have that much power, I realise that I’m no better.
You haven’t used your power to threaten me even once. And yet here I am, the reason why you’ve been hunted your whole life.”

Merlin seemed confused as he finally lowered his hand. “I did threaten you.”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t mean you – here. Merlin lied to me for years. I’m only just beginning to understand the weight of that sacrifice.”

It was then, finally, that Merlin stepped towards him and grabbed the sigil from Arthur’s hand. The King startled a little as their hands brushed against each other, although he let out a breath of relief. Then, Merlin met his gaze head on. “I hope for your sake that all of this is true. If you lie, if you go back on your word, then I will take over Camelot before you have the chance to protect it.”

Arthur took a deep breath and nodded quietly, eyes caught by Merlin’s own.

“And now, about your enchantment.” Merlin said and folded his arms.

“My what?” Arthur blinked before he was reminded why he was even here. “Oh, that. Let’s wait until after magic is legalised.”

“Oh?” Merlin blinked in surprise. “Is that not why you’re here?” His certain doubt, the accusation in those words fell on deaf, uncomprehending ears.

“I came here to find you?” Arthur asked confused.

The sorcerer faltered at those words. “Well-,” he cleared his throat. “I would have figured that you wanted to go back to your original life.” He turned to Leon with a frown. “Or is it you who wants his old King back?”

Leon, surprised he was even addressed, quickly shook his head. “Oh please no. Our King doesn’t listen. He wanted to smoke you out –“ Oh gods, one more word and he was dead! “I'll shut up.”

Merlin sighed, his eyes saddened by Leon’s fear. “He could have tried, and he would have failed. Fire is well within my powers. I can control it well enough to protect my people. I would be more afraid for Camelot the day the winds turn.”

Leon’s lips glued together into a thin line, and he quickly nodded, while the King just nodded solemnly.

Merlin covered his face in complete disbelief, battling an inner conflict. “I take that as proof that I can trust you.”

“Thank you, Merlin.” Arthur said softly. “For bringing peace to Camelot.”

“Get out of my forest, Pendragon.” Merlin hissed at him. “We’ll talk when magic is actually legal. Until then, I have a lot to think about.”

“Of course.” Arthur nodded. Then, quietly. “I’m glad you’re okay.” With that, he turned on his heels and starked through the forest, far away from Merlin, a lot lighter than how he’d entered it.

Leon remained behind, wondering if he was permitted to leave as well. Only to witness Emrys blushing furiously at the sigil in his hand. He brushed his finger over it in awe at the design, or perhaps at the circumstances leading him here.

Then, his eyes flickered to Leon. "What are you waiting for?! Leave!"

Leon didn’t need to be told twice.

-  Back in Camelot -

"I hereby lift the ban on magic."

The council was silent. Silent and terrified. The change had come swiftly and just as sudden as King Arthur’s usual mood swings. Only that those usually ended in bloodshed or torture, or random feasts. In a way, this was the scariest thing they had ever witnessed.

But this Arthur was far more in touch with the people, so he remained at the table and explained, instead of expecting them to live with the consequences.

"For years, people have been living in fear. People who were never asked how they felt, who were never asked what they can even do with their abilities. My father and I believed they were cursed, that they were corrupted by a force so powerful that no man could withstand it." He looked around into pale faces. "Recently, I looked in a mirror and saw that that same force corrupting myself." He let the words linger. "I’m not talking about magic. What I feared was power and how men abuse it. With my power as King, I have the power to decide on who lives and who dies. I have the power to send armies into foreign territories, I have the power to start and end wars. I was raised my whole life to wield that power. And yet, when I find others wielding it, I turn to fear. I fear that they cannot control it, that it will control them instead. So, I sent legions to defeat them and their might, not realising that this is me, losing control of it.
My fear exists because my power crumbles in front of the might of magic."

Arthur took a deep breath as the people exchanged confused glances. "Something odd happened when I faced Emrys myself. Where the knights fought bravely, believing they would take down a threat, I faced a man who was just as afraid as I was." Eyes snapped back to him and Leon watched them puzzling the pieces together the same way they had.

Arthur raised his voice. "Emrys did not start this war, he defended himself and his people the same way my father and I have done. When facing me, he offered me to live as long as I left him alone." He paused for dramatic effect.
"I was so distracted and so obsessed with the power he wielded, that I was blind to the kindness, to the humanity that he wields it with. I don’t believe that Emrys wants this war. He never meant to show himself because he never wished to provoke anyone. He did not mean to become a threat." He let the words hover over them.
"This is why I’ve decided to step back and offer him refuge."

Panicked mutters followed his final words.

"If-" Arthur had to speak louder to reach them all. "If Emrys, magic itself, can be kind and just and amicable, then I believe so can other magic users. If no crime is committed, if no one dies and no one is robbed through magic, then perhaps peace is closer than we realise." Arthur said this calmly and with a compassion that seemed to move them all.

"I will send word to Emrys to discuss further steps with him. The decree to legalise magic is effective immediately. I do not wish for my people, or his, to suffer for a single second longer."

After that, chaos ensued.

Leon was the last knight remaining in the council room after the King had been pestered with a thousand questions. Something was off with him, though. Leon could read this King like a book. King Arthur wasn’t just compassionate; he was in pain. And he was angry. But he had not requested for servants to let his frustrations out on, which was just another proof that he had not lied. He really was someone else entirely.

"Is everything alright, your highness?" For the first time, Leon felt unafraid to ask.

King Arthur sighed as he stared out forlornly out of the window. "I’m angry," he acknowledged and balled his hands to fists.

"About what?"

Arthur grimaced. "I don’t want to be, I know it’s stupid, but I am."

"Is there something I can do?"

"No." Arthur folded his arms and closed his eyes. "He lied to me for years." Apparently, this was what he wanted Leon to do. Listen.

Leon knew exactly whom Arthur was talking about. Nevertheless, he was shocked that the King had come to that conclusion only now. "I thought you understood?" The pain, the fear, the threat on Merlin’s life…

"I do and that is the problem!" Arthur exclaimed and rubbed his face. "He’s my best friend and he lied, because he never felt –" Arthur paused, sounding a little lost, as he corrected himself. "-worse - he wasn’t safe around me! And I didn’t even notice! Now I realise how afraid he must have been but it’s far too late! And he is out there, somewhere. My Merlin, still hiding and still scared – of me."

"You didn’t know." Leon tried to console him. "And I’m sure he’s not as afraid of you as you think." With how smitten the King was, it was hard to imagine Merlin hating him. Even Emrys had struggled the moment Arthur had put down his sword.

"I should have known!" Arthur shook his head painfully. "And now I’m mad that he lied to me, I’m so angry that he has magic and I’m mad that I didn’t notice!  I know now that he was born with it, that it wasn’t his choice! I just – It's not making sense. I am the evil one here! How dare I feel – I want to punch him." As if to underline his point, Arthur clenched his fists harder. "What is wrong with me?!"

"He’s your friend and you’re hurt." Leon tried again.

"That doesn’t matter!" Arthur swirled around, finally taring his eyes away from the window. "This law – this magic ban – it's clearly wrong! The more I think about it, the less sense it makes! If it doesn’t corrupt, if it’s just a tool, then why was it outlawed? If people are born with it, then why are they hunted for it? Merlin knew that better than anyone and he left me in the dark! He LET me hurt my people! He LET me hurt his people. He LET ME HURT HIM!" He was breathless as he turned to Leon with pleading eyes. "Look at me and tell me how that makes sense!"

Leon stared at him. "I don’t know, Sire. He swallowed. "I guess he was afraid."

"Exactly." Arthur confirmed weakly, as they had returned to his initial point.

For a while none of the men said anything to the other.

And then, finally Leon pieced together what was truly underneath all those emotions. Underneath the anger and the regret. "You must miss him."

"Terribly." Arthur confessed.

Chapter Text

It took no longer than a month for the law change to reach the last nook and cranny of Albion. The rumor mills were working overtime, people speaking of lies, of a trap, or even an enchantment. And yet, the drop in magical attacks was imminently evident and therefore undeniable. Sooner than expected, the rumors quietened into an almost eery silence, as no one knew what to make of it. 

It was on that first month that no witch nor sorcerer had found their deaths on the pyre, that Emrys himself, dressed from head to toe in stolen goods and that terrifying mask of his, arrived in Camelot.  

The mighty figure of Emrys himself marching through the lower town was noticed quickly and fear seemed to carry far, despite Arthur’s repeated reassurance that Emrys was a good man and their guest. 

In fact, the moment a terrified servant brought the news that their enemy of almost ten years had arrived,  Arthur rushed down the stairs to be the first to meet him. Leon followed him slowly, sure that if there was a scene he was going to miss, he would probably be thankful for it. “Mer- Emrys!” Arthur said in a loud, almost boisterous tone, nearly forgetting that Emrys peferred to be called by his alias. “Come in, come in!” Leon would not have been surprised had Arthur pulled Emrys into a hug. (He was honestly more surprised that he hadn’t.) 

While the people of Camelot barricaded themselves in their homes, Arthur wasted no time leading a very quiet Merlin inside. Emrys did not speak, did not greet them, but he did follow and so did a couple of the villagers he had brought with him. Arthur led them through the empty halls and into the council room like guests. Leon didn’t doubt for a second that Merlin felt like a prisoner instead. 

“Sit!” Arthur gestured and turned to a servant as soon as they arrived. “Would you be so kind to bring refreshments to the council room? And ready chambers for our guests, yes?” 

The servant bowed, unsure what to make of Arthur’s friendliness and scurried away. 

Merlin had come with what seemed to be his entire village. All of them reasonably scared, but they had bravely accompanied Merlin anyway. Perhaps, Leon thought, they didn’t wish to remain behind in an unprotected village.  

Merlin sat at the short end of the table and pulled back the chairs for his people with a wave of his magic.  

“I didn’t think you would come.” Arthur said a little helplessly at the sight. There was a gleam in his eyes, of pure wonder at the act of magic. “I thought you would wait for me to come to you.” He was trying to hide his astonishment, but he could not have been any more obvious. 

“I did.” Merlin said in a tone that suggested that he was not impressed by the King’s riches. “And then I consulted a druid, and they confirmed that you’re, in fact, enchanted. Although it appears they do not know by whom or why.” 

Arthur paused with a small laugh. “I already told you that.” 

“Yes.” Merlin replied dryly. “ I knew it would have been too good to be true if you had been genuine.” Merlin sounded almost angry, but he remained level-headed and calm. He was distant, distrustful and saddened in a way. 

“Does it matter?” Arthur asked half-heartedly and sat down opposite to Merlin’s end.  

For once, Arthur had chosen the end that was actually reserved for him – although he still refused to take the chair specially designed for him. Perhaps, Leon thought, the deliberate choice of the seat was meant to acknowledge Emrys’ position as King. Or perhaps, to mark something else, someone else who ought to be treated as a King’s equal. 

“Yes.” Merlin said matter-of-factly. “In fact, this isn’t good news at all. Your people already suspect that I’ve had anything to do with your –“ He waved his hand at Arthur “-change. Which means, they are blaming magic, again.” 

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it. “That was not my intention-” 

“I know that.” Merlin sighed and finally revealed his face by removing the mask. Once again, authority and wisdom were replaced by youth and human concern. “As soon as your enchantment is broken, which it will be eventually, the mad King will return, and he will hunt my people once more.  

Arthur blinked. “ But I gave you my mother’s sigil to prevent that!” 

“I’ve thought about that too and had to realise that if the mad King says it was stolen and that I’ve lied, then this means absolutely nothing, no matter how much you wish it did.” He revealed the sigil under his coat and returned the silver thing to Arthur. Arthur did not take it. So, Merlin put it on the table, tapping against it thoughtfully. “I wish there was a way.” Merlin said, sounding as if he were in pain himself. “But there is nothing we can do to ensure peace. As soon as the mad King is back, the war will restart.” 

“But Leon -,” Arthur began. 

“Is just a knight who could be a traitor in the eyes of your other self.” Merlin shook his head while his people watched their exchange. “I believe you.” He added, as Arthur’s expression turned less and less sure of himself and more and more conflicted. “I know you mean well, but this isn’t going to solve anything. If we truly want peace, then we must face the mad King himself. And if we do that -” 

“He’ll kill you.” Arthur said, face pale. The word ‘I’ never left Arthur’s lips, but Leon could hear it in his mind. Could feel the guilt accompanied by that single letter. 

Merlin nodded. “He’ll certainly try. Which means, I have three options.” He paused, giving Arthur the chance to breathe. “Option A, I return to my village and everything stays as it was, the war restarts, etc.  B) I overthrow the entire Kingdom with my powers or C -” 

“C?” Arthur asked, not sounding at all like he liked any of the ideas, but not downright refusing them either.  

“I’ll put myself at the mad King’s mercy, like you put yourself at mine.” 

Arthur stared at him. “You can’t do that! He’ll – You’ll die! ” Helplessly, he turned to the villagers. “Them too, he doesn’t care -” 

“If there is one thing I understand -” Merlin said softly, finally allowing himself to smile a tiny bit, “-about your enchantment, then it’s that the only difference between you and him is that you’ve met me.” 

Arthur stared at him. “Yes, but -” This wasn’t even a question, Leon thought wildly. 

“The mad King hasn’t. Not yet. Perhaps that’s what we need. Perhaps not everything is lost yet.” Merlin’s expression darkened. “I’m not sure that I can forgive what he made me do.” Merlin closed his eyes. “But I understand his reasons. I will try to guide him to be a better King. If that fails, I can rest assured that your universe, or wherever you’re from, has benefitted from us meeting. At least there, magic will be free, won’t it?” 

Arthur’s mouth clapped shut and he nodded mutely.  

“Promise me.” 

Leon glanced at Arthur, neither expecting nor witnessing hesitation. The moment the King took to breathe was not to stall or to think it over, it was to gather his emotions and put them into the words he would utter next. “I swear on my life.”  

They hit Merlin like a wave of magic. “Good.” Merlin traced a hand over the sigil once more, still marvelling at both it and the King in front of him. “Then it is time for you to go back home.” He stood.  

Arthur stared at him, then closed his eyes, as if he were not surprised at all. “Will you be okay?” 

Merlin blinked with conceiled surprise. For a moment, he seemed to think, then he shook his head. “One last thing. Tell me, what kind of relationship do you and I actually have in your world?” It sounded a lot like ‘What makes you think that I need you? Does the other me need you as much as you seem to need me?’ 

Arthur smiled softly. “You’re my servant.” 

At that, finally, Merlin let out a laugh. A laugh so joyful and boisterous that the room seemed to shake with it. “You’re joking!” The smile did not leave him. 

“I’m not.” Arthur said surely, his smile glued to Merlin’s laugh. 

Beyond amused, Merlin shook his head. “Congratulate this servant of yours for turning you into a decent human being then.” Merlin shook his head and put his mask back on. 

Arthur stopped him. “Wait - you’re doing this now?” Panic washed over his face.  

“Yes.” Merlin smiled gently and raised his hand. “Better to rip the bandage off, don’t you think? I imagine you would like to get back home too, don’t you?”  

Before Arthur could protest any further, Merlin’s eyes glowed golden through the dark slits in his mask, making him look more like a creature than a man.  

The King, infused with a surge of magic, fell to his knees, his eyes wide and unseeing. For a moment, the power lingered in the air between. A flash of light, and the other Arthur was gone.  

“What madness is this?!” The mad King exclaimed loudly as soon as sense returned to his eyes. “Who are these people?!” He said, swirling around and staring at all of them, disoriented. “Who let you into my castle!” 

Wherever he had been, he did not seem to have changed, Leon thought a little disappointed. Perhaps, he had not been anywhere at all.  

Although that begged the question where the other Arthur had gone, then. Did his universe even exist, or had the magic just created an idea of it? Leon hoped he still existed, and he wished that they got their happy ending. 

Merlin stood calm and tall before the man who was not even a shadow of the radiant King he’d been mere seconds ago.  
“Arthur Pendragon.” He began, his head held high.  

Arthur turned to him. “Who allowed you to speak? Who are you?!” The King was suspicious, as he glanced the figure up and down. “And what are you wearing?” 

 “My name is Emrys.” Merlin spoke calmly, forcing the King’s eyes to widen, to scramble to his feet and move backwards, reaching for a weapon that was not at his hips where it used to be. “I’m here to offer you a truce.” Merlin reached out his hand to the King who was still openly staring at him with pure shock. 

Leon held his breath, not sure what to expect. One hand was reaching for his own sword, but he knew that Merlin could defend himself. At that moment, it occurred to Leon, that he should be protecting the King instead. Nothing seemed further from his mind. 

“Truce? With a sorcerer?!” Arthur scoffed and stepped back, searching for his sword once more. “Leon, give me your sword.” 

For a second, Leon considered what to do. His fingers twitched, then stilled. For once, it was easy to refuse the order.  

“LEON!” Arthur yelled, then cursed and searched for his own sword. As soon as he found it, leaning against the wall underneath a window, Merlin waved a hand. The blade lifted into the air and was thrown sharp and quickly in the opposite direction to get stuck deep into the nearest wall.  

The King’s hand froze mid-air, face paling noticeably.  

Merlin scoffed at him. “You could at least listen to me!” He probably regretted sending the other King off so soon. Leon regretted it too. 

On the other hand, in what universe was THIS Emrys putting himself at King Arthur’s mercy?!  

The King huffed in disbelief. “And why would I do that?” 

“Because you’re a King, not a child!” Merlin snapped, his glare boring right into the King’s open stare.  

Leon held his breath.  

And so did the King. “You can’t address me like that!” 

“Listen to me, King !” Merlin had finally reached him from the other end of the table and now pushed his finger into Arthur’s chest, forcing him several steps backwards until his back hit the wall. Arthur’s eyes widened in the process. “I want to live a peaceful life with my friends and family in my little village, unbothered by war and torture. YOU wish to end this war against magic, do you not? I’m offering you a truce! Take it!”  

Leon watched his King in silence, not ever daring to interfere. There was something there, Leon thought. A look almost troubled settled in the King’s eyes as they snapped from the outstretched hand to the golden glowing mask. 

“How do I know this is not a trick?” Arthur asked, clearly unsure.  

“You’re alive for starters.” Merlin said with vitriol and tilted his head in warning.  

Leon bit his lip. Merlin had been on the defence for too long. He had no idea what mercy looked like when it wasn’t coming from himself.  

Arthur paled. “You can’t talk to me like that!” He warned, growing increasingly less sure of himself. “You can’t threaten me and expect me to believe you!” 

“I talk to you however I please.” Merlin said, nearly looming over Arthur now.  

King Arthur took a sharp inhale. “I-” The King’s voice faltered before he caught himself. “You do not !-“   

At this point, they were glaring at each other and growling, this close to throwing a punch. It was starting to get out of hand.  

“Sire.” Leon finally interrupted them, surprising his King with the mere fact that he dared to do so. “You were enchanted.” 

“What?” Arthur asked, eyes wide and in shock. His hatred snapped back to Emrys. “YOU!” 

“You invited Emrys as your guest.” Leon continued undeterred. 

The King’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “I would never do such a thing. Why did you not stop me?!” Arthur tried to push Emrys away, but Merlin raised his hand, freezing Arthur in place with the threat alone. “Leon, arrest him already!” 

Leon did not move. “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Sire.” 

“And why not?!” Arthur hissed at him. “You’re a KNIGHT, do something!”  

“I can’t, because you gave him your mother’s sigil, your highness.” Leon declared, watching the King stutter and stumble over those words, while Emrys sent him a questioning glance. Leon was far from done. “And while you were enchanted, you’ve been acting wiser and kinder and kinglier than you ever have since you took over the throne. You may have been enchanted, but I do not doubt the decisions you’ve made during that time.” 

Arthur gaped at him. “You’re a traitor!” He whispered. “You’re siding with magic!” 

Leon knew how this sounded, and it was true. “Right now, I’m more your friend than I ever was. And as such, I’m telling you that magic is now legal by your own decree, and I believe it was the wisest choice you’ve ever made. We’re officially at peace with magic. I don’t know who you wish to execute, Sire, but I’m afraid you will have to do that yourself.” 

Arthur stopped, lips parting, then staring at Emrys who was still not moving, who was still not lifting a hand against anyone in this room but him, waiting. Waiting for Arthur to accept peace of all things.  

For a moment, it was quiet as the King debated what this meant. “You’re defending a murderer.” His pointed glare was directed at Merlin, as if there was any question who he was referring to. 

Emrys bristled underneath the mask, so Leon decided to remedy that before Emrys did “Merlin, would you be so kind to show the King your face?” 

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, needing a moment to understand that Emrys had another name. When he did, he seemed confused as to why it was relevant. “Isn’t your name -” 

Emrys turned to Leon. “Why would I do that?“ 

Leon sighed. “You’re wearing it to intimidate your enemies, aren’t you? I’m sure the King will see what I mean if you take it off.” 

“That’s ridiculous, why would it-“ But Arthur’s protest stopped as soon as Merlin followed the simple request. Arthur stared at Merlin, his eyes widening as the man slowly revealed himself with his free hand, revealing a youthful face and tired eyes.  

Blame Leon a little, but the way Arthur’s face suddenly blushed into an almost violent pink was a calculated part of his plan. Arthur clapped his mouth shut.  

Leon opened his own to narrate to the King what he was seeing. “We’ve been fighting against a human, your highness. A human who defended his people. A human who killed your men, my brothers, because you left him no choice. You and your father fabricated the need for this war. I want you to take a good look and tell me who it is that you’ve been fighting against.” 

At this, Emrys seemed to understand what Leon was saying and he stepped back to remove his hood as well.  

Arthur stayed where he was, with his back pressed against the wall and his arms dangling off to the side. His eyes glued to Merlin’s face as if he could recognise him.  

Leon had no doubt that it was the other side of his soul. 

“Have we – I know you.” Arthur said weakly. 

Merlin blinked at him, sounding almost startled. “Not in this life, no.” 

“But-” The king fumbled. For a moment, he was lost in a trance, the resonance taking hold of him. “I don’t know –“ He stopped, uncertainly turning to Sir Leon. “How many casualties?” 

“Casualties, Sire?” Leon asked, a brow raised, knowing exactly what the King was asking.  

Arthur swallowed. “Since he entered the castle.” 

Leon gave him a sad smile. “None, Sire. Not a one.” 

Arthur was shaking at the revelation and turned his attention back to Merlin. “If that’s-“ He halted, still conflicted. “But-” 

“Your highness.” Leon urged, stepping closer with determination. “If you want peace, if you truly care about your men’s life, you will take his offer!” It was an order, and adrenaline ran through Leon with it. 

Arthur seemed conflicted still but then took a breath. “If this is true -” He began. “Then I shall.” 

Merlin looked up, eyes, previously golden, now strikingly blue, went wide as saucers. “You will?” 

Arthur’s face flamed. “If it truly is peace you’re after, then how could I say no?” 

Merlin sent Leon a glance and Leon nodded at him reassuringly. “It is.” 

Arthur swallowed and nodded once more. “Well... Sit down then.” He gestured at the table. “We need to sign papers, do we not?” 

Merlin let out a startled laugh, full of relief and disbelief. “Yes, my Lord .” The title sounded sarcastic coming from his mouth and the sound of it sent King Arthur in a frenzy.  

He cleared his throat. “Sir Leon -” He turned to Leon. “I assume you do already have the papers ready, since you were so keen to speak out against me?” 

“Indeed. I do, Sire.” Leon nodded and went to call for a servant who would call for Geoffrey and the desired papers that the other King had already asked for. Leon’s reaction seemed to startle Arthur once again, as he had not believed Leon would still listen to him.  

In fact, before Leon could leave, Arthur grabbed him by the sleeve. “Sir Leon, you do realize that your disobedience in this matter will have consequences -,” he hissed in his ear. 

Leon blinked at him unimpressed, shocking the King once more. Leon glanced at Merlin who watched them with quiet amusement. “I’m looking forward to it.” Leon patted Arthur’s shoulder with feeling and left the blushing King alone.  

He’d spent far too much time with one mad King already. It was time that this one, too, came to his senses. And it looked like all it needed was for Merlin and Arthur to finally meet. 

The End... 

.... or is it? 

Chapter Text

Bonus 1:

In an alternate universe, Arthur Pendragon came back to reality in the middle of a court meeting.

“Sire?” A worried Sir Leon was watching over him, leaning half over the round table. Several knights had shot up worriedly to come to his aid. “Sire, are you alright? You fainted!”

“What?” Arthur blearily blinked his eyes open from the cold stone floor. “Where am I? What -” His back was aching from the uncomfortable encounter with the hard surface. With his surroundings, his memories returned to him. “Where is Merlin?”

“Oh thank god, he’s back to normal.” Gwaine’s voice came from somewhere, making Arthur’s head snap up to search for him.

“What?”

“You had us worried, Sire.” Leon said, explaining absolutely nothing, but ultimately sounding just as relieved as Gwaine did. He reached out his hand for Arthur to pull himself up.

Arthur sat up straight instead, eyes roaming the room for a familiar face. “What happened? How long have I been out?”

“For like a month, if you ask me.” Sir Gwaine muttered.

“Sir Gwaine!” Leon glared at the knight. Then he returned to look at Arthur. “He’s not entirely wrong, but... You only fainted for a couple seconds.”

“What does he mean -” Arthur sat up rigid straight, as the events of the past month reentered his mind. “Oh no. Where is Merlin, what did I do to Merlin? Have I – last month -”

“You’ve been a real princess, princess.” Gwaine confirmed, receiving even more groans, but Arthur was grateful for the blunt honesty.

“Gwaine, you need to tell me everything!” Arthur demanded anyway. “If I – If I hurt someone, if I -” He paled. “Oh my god, was someone executed?”

“What?” Gwaine frowned. “Gods no. You were just acting weird. Talking about fighting against sorcerers and stuff, as if Morgana were still out there.
 By the way, who is Emrys?”

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it, eyes widening. “You didn’t let him do anything?”

“Him?” Gwaine and Leon exchanged worried glances.

“I was enchanted.” Arthur tried to explain as he held his head, his words a stutter. “For a month, I was – Did I -  Where is Merlin?”

“Mucking out the stables, as you told him to.” Gwaine blinked, now a little more alarmed. “Apparently, he’d been too disobedient for your tastes or something. You even tried to sack him, which is ridiculous, as if anyone could fire Merlin.” He laughed to lighten the mood, making other knights chuckle along with him. “And you tried putting him in the stocks once. He just turned around and left, it was hilarious.”

Arthur let out a deep breath. “Did he- did I -”

“Sire.” Leon put a calming hand on his shoulder. “Merlin is fine. He was worried, he kept asking us to not let you do anything rash. Now that I think of it, I think he mentioned something about an enchantment. But you weren’t on a murder spree, you were just very confused all the time. So, we supposed he was just overreacting. I’m taking it he was right?”

Gwaine interrupted him. “Also, may I just say, you have very little faith in us, princess. Had you said you wished to execute someone who did nothing wrong, we would have stopped you."

Leon raised a brow.

“Okay, Merlin would have stopped you.”

Leon nodded in agreement and Arthur could finally breathe.

“So, I’m taking it, we’re not discussing the magic ban today?” Gwaine asked. “Because you were literally about to tell us that we weren’t fierce enough in our attempts to fight it. That was him too then, I guess.”

Arthur closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. “Actually, I think we should be discussing the magic ban. But I want Merlin here when we do.” He paused. “In fact, I need to speak to him alone for a moment.”

The knights exchanged glances. “You sure?” Leon asked worriedly. “Merlin was pretty mad at you.”

“Oh god.” Arthur blanched. “What did I do?!”

“You tried to throw an axe at a servant.” Leon blinked.

Arthur had to cover his eyes in shame.

“You really cannot decide what you want, do you? First you want me to polish your armor, then you sent me to muck out the stables and you don’t even let me finish -” Merlin was in one of his popular rants as soon as he entered the council room. Sometimes Arthur wondered whether the rants already started in the stables or perhaps the moment he’d been sent there. Merlin’s tirades never stopped and he never ran out of ideas to complain about his King.

The other knights were trying to stiffle their laughter, but Arthur stood immediately upon seeing him. It was a bit embarrassing really, with how he shoved the chair not far enough and hit his knee against the table. He hissed in a breath before he tried to continue on and smooth over the accident. “Everyone, leave. I wish to speak with him alone.”

Merlin halted in the middle of his tirade. “Okay, that’s weird. What’s going on.” His eyes glanced from one knight to another, nearly demanding an answer. The knights apologetically shrugged or shook their heads in confusion.

The knights left without question, Gwaine sending Merlin fingerguns, Leon squeezing his shoulders in passing. Only as the last servant had left the room and closed the door - now that the massive table was all that stood between them - did Arthur begin to speak.

“I was enchanted.” Arthur confessed like a child who was scared he would be scolded.

“Ah.” Merlin nodded and stopped. Then he let out a displeased sigh. “I figured as much, since you accused me of enchanting you.”

“I what?” Arthur stared at him with wide eyes.

Merlin rolled his eyes, arms crossed. “Apparently, he thought I was going to attack him, because I brought him breakfast.”

Arthur kept his mouth shut.

Okay, to be fair – The other King was used to reserved servants who barely dared to look at him. Arthur had to learn the hard way that servants didn’t normally stuff your breakfast right down your throat to have you choke on bread. Surely, it was the only way Merlin got Arthur to stand up in the morning, but still. Arthur understood how that could be misinterpreted.

… Arthur had the odd wish that he could have seen that moment for himself.

“I guess this means you’re back to normal then.” There was relief behind the annoyance, Arthur could tell. But then there was the suspicion, as he looked around nervously for witnesses... or protection, Arthur feared, ashamed. “How did you get back?” Merlin narrowed his eyes, only very, very subtly implying that it distressed him that he hadn’t found the solution himself.

And how could that be, if the alternate Merlin had found one so quickly? Did he have more education in magic? When he’d spoken to the druids about Arthur’s enchantment, had they given him the counter spell? How had Arthur even been enchanted to begin with? Perhaps he would never know the answer to any of these questions.

“I woke up to a universe where I never met you.” Arthur went straight to the point. Now he had Merlin’s full attention. Merlin now stood at the opposite end of the round table, far away and yet so near.

Merlin let out a laugh. There was something reserved in his eyes, as if he didn’t quite believe Arthur yet, or if he were afraid what Arthur had seen on the other side. “Must have been weird, to finally have a bootlicker as your servant, huh?” He grinned at him, fumbling with his hands. “Are you sure the enchantment is broken? Why did you want to speak to me?”

Arthur’s eyes were locked on Merlin, never leaving, watching the man grow restless with the attention on him. “The battle in Ealdor – It was led by a sorcerer. A sorcerer named Emrys.” Then Arthur realised that he didn’t wish to tell Merlin what he knew. He wished for Merlin to tell him himself. Arthur wanted the truth from the mouth of his oldest friend. He wanted it to be a sign of trust, of loyalty. He wanted it to taste like a kiss.

Merlin raised his head. Slowly, very slowly, a fear settled in his eyes. “My Lord?” The sarcasm dropped dead on his feet.

“Merlin.” Arthur opened his mouth, then paused. “If you have anything to say to me, please do it now.”

Merlin held his breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He glanced away, hands trembling and eyes wide, as he stuttered.

“Do you realise where you stand?” Arthur asked softly, gesturing at the seat at the round table. Merlin looked at the table, his hand reaching out to feel the clear surface under his long, slender fingers.

Oddly, Arthur was reminded that Merlin hadn’t dressed him in weeks, hadn’t straightened his collar, had not brushed through his hair to pull out leafs. Arthur missed him terribly. A longing settled in his guts, a pull stronger than he’d expected. He swallowed down the feeling, to find it settle heavily next to his guilt.

“At this table, we’re all equal. We have sworn loyalty and honesty with each other.” He paused. “And we’ve sworn to protect each other from harm.”

And Arthur realised where Merlin stood, stood Kings. Merlin should have been standing there a very long time ago.

Merlin blinked up at him, still unsure what to expect.

“I know I haven’t done this before, but it is high time that I invite you to this table. Because I want you to know that you’re safe, so you can be honest with us all.”

Silence followed Arthur’s little speech.

Merlin seemed confused as he stepped forth and back, his eyes switching between the offered seat and Arthur. Then, slowly, it seemed to dawn on him that not only Arthur knew, but that he was not rejecting him. “What exactly did you see in that other world?” His fear lifted slightly at Arthur’s calmness, at his lack of anger. The hard lines around Merlin’s eyes softened with relief.

“I saw who I was without you.” Arthur said. “And I saw what you were without me.” Arthur finished. “I found you in Ealdor. And I found you protecting it with your magic.”

Merlin went white. “You know.”

Any anger that may still have lingered in Arthur’s heart was gone in an instant.  

“Merlin-”

“Arthur.”

Their eyes met and they were close. “I was wrong about magic.” Arthur said simply. And it was all he needed to say for Merlin’s eyes to clear and widen in wonder.

“You think so?” It came out weakly, disbelievingly, hopefully. Merlin sounded so vulnerable.

At that, Arthur had a third revelation. Everything they had said about magic, about it corrupting, about it being evil, about magic users being creatures of darkness – with no one to tell him otherwise - Merlin might have believed it too. About himself.

 “I think you’re the furthest thing from evil I know.” Arthur confessed. “If you’re magic, then I simply must have been wrong about it.”

Merlin twitched a smile. He was frozen in his position, but Arthur could tell that the man was about to fall apart.

“Merlin.” Merlin looked up at him. “Please, tell me the truth.”

He knew. Of course he knew. Something akin to a question flashed through Merlin’s mind before he understood that Arthur needed certainty. That he needed Merlin to confirm to him that he was right. That Merlin needed to believe this was true and righteous for Arthur to believe it too. “I have magic.” Arthur’s heart seemed to stop. “I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.”

It had something of a practised speech. Arthur felt like he’d heard those words a thousand times before. As if ‘Once upon a time …’ and ‘…Happy ever after’ had finally come together. He felt something rising in him, a new courage, as Arthur slowly moved along the round table to come to a halt next to Merlin. His own hand brushed against the wood, finally feeling at home. “I’m a King.” Arthur said and met quiet confusion. “I wield a power as feared as yours. And I use it for you, Merlin. Only for you.”

Merlin’s eyes widened impeccably.

And for a moment, the atmosphere between them tensed. It became so dense that Arthur could no longer breathe, could no longer hide the shaking in his hands and the longing in his veins.

Merlin’s eyes trailed all over Arthur’s face before he chuckled nervously, his hands clenching to fists. “Is there … Is there something on my face?”

The moment broke. Arthur inhaled a sharp breath and only now realised how close he’d come to Merlin. How sappy and insane his words had been. He flushed in a way that felt irreversible.

Arthur withdrew, ignoring the screaming of his mind. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. I forgot how ugly you were.”

“Hey!” Merlin nearly yelled but was finally able to breathe again. “Admit it, you missed me!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Arthur crossed his arms, unable to shake the embarrassment. He’d just handed his heart out to Merlin and the man had the audacity –

“Come on!” Merlin poked him in the shoulder that Arthur had turned to him. “Does this mean you’ll change the magic law or not?”

Had this come from anyone else, Arthur would probably have thought he was being manipulated. With Merlin, he instantly knew that the man did not believe him. He was afraid Arthur would take it back. Arthur turned to him to rebuff him and tell him that such things needed time, and besides, he would still have to muck out the stables after, just to be faced with an insane amount of wonder and hope and gratitude, hidden behind a nearly translucent teasing smile. It was so raw, so Merlin, that Arthur lost himself in it.

The knot in Arthur’s gut twisted. “Merlin-“

Merlin’s smile fell. “… Or not?” Helpless, his eyes switched between Arthur’s right and left eye, as if he were searching for something.

“Merlin!” Arthur grabbed him by the shoulder, only to realise his mistake a second later, when he couldn’t help but notice how close they were once again. Anything he could say wanted to die on his lips. But he hadn’t made himself clear enough. Merlin was doubting him, Merlin was scared. “In a heartbeat.” Arthur assured him as well as he could.

Merlin’s breath fanned against Arthur’s mouth, and gods, this was unfair! Arthur’s curious hand found the pulse point of Merlin’s neck, felt the temperature rising, the pulse quicken.

Arthur was doing it again! Arthur flinched backwards. “That were 20. That’s far too many. Call the knights, Merlin. This law will be changed now.”

“NOW?” Merlin squeaked in disbelief.

“Yes NOW. I’ve lifted the ban in the other world and I wasted a month writing the law, I already know what I’m going to say.”

“I – of course.” Merlin breathed in, in awe.

As soon as Merlin had left the room to call for the waiting knights, did Arthur close his eyes and tried to regain a normal heartbeat.
One day, he knew-
One day, he would no longer be able to conceal these blasted feelings of his. It would either be Camelot’s downfall, or the beginning of a golden age. No matter which universe, this Kingdom, Arthur knew with terrifying certainty, rested on the shoulders of but one man.

His name…
Merlin.

Bonus 2:

One month ago

The King sighed in his sleep. His heartbeat was calm, collected. He felt warm and cozy and he was in such a deep slumber, that he did not hear the steps approaching. It wasn’t until a violent hand shoved something down his throat that Arthur’s eyes sprang open. His hands were reaching for the sword he kept – didn’t keep? – under his pillow. He was choking on the soft substance in his mouth as he threw his arms around.

“Oi!” A man’s voice yelled. “You’re in a mood today.”

Arthur ripped the object from his mouth to taste – bread?

Blind with rage, Arthur tried to grab the stranger by the throat, only to be blinded by dark blue orbs. The attack was, apparently, anticipated, because the man evaded his attack and hid behind the bed curtains, his haunting irises disappearing with him.

Arthur yelled: “GUARDS!”

But no one came. “GUARDS!” Arthur shouted again, only to be met by the same face from before that now had a brow raised.

“You’re calling for guards, really?” The man asked, sounding amused.

Arthur growled at him and did the only thing he could do, throw a pillow at him. The man ducked effectively. “INTRUDER!” Arthur yelled again.

“I’m not –“ The man laughed, confused. “Did you think I was attacking you?”

“You tried to kill me!” Arthur yelled.

“What?” The man seemed aghast. “I brought you breakfast! Like every morning! Have you also forgotten that you don’t have any appointed guards anymore? I’m your servant, remember? This is my job!”

“You are NOT my servant! I’d never keep someone as -” This time Arthur was the one in shock. “Who even are you?!”

The man gaped at him, mouth wide open. “Wow.”

At the next moment, the door opened and a serving girl stuck her head inside the door. Arthur wanted to yell at her, but his words died on his tongue as soon as he recognised her.

“I’m sorry.” The woman held a hand in front of her eyes to not peak at the undressed King. “Is everything alright?”

Guinevere. Arthur stood still, entirely unsure what he’d just seen. The girl was dead, was she not? He’d seen her burn.

“Arthur is just being a prat.” The liar said and sent her a (n admittedly) charming smile. “Nothing new.”

“I see.” Guinevere made a small courtesy and left.

Arthur immediately grabbed this – someone – by the throat. “How the hell did you do that?”

“Seriously, did you hit your head?” The action did not impress the other man in the slightest.

Arthur looked around and let the man fall to the ground where he landed on his butt with an odd little yelp. Before Arthur knew it, he found himself at the window, looking down a courtyard in full bloom with laughing and dancing people in it. Arthur’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen a scene like this since his coronation. “What the –“

Quickly, he turned to the man on the ground who was rubbing his butt as he got back up. “Where am I?!”

“Your… room?” The man asked, glaring at him.

“This-“ Arthur pointed outside as if it were proof. “WHAT is this?”

“A window.” The dry answer didn’t even shock Arthur anymore.

“Don’t be daft!” Arthur sat and menacingly stepped forward. “The people are laughing.”

“I believe they call this joy, my Lord.” Somehow, the title sounded derogatory in this man’s voice.

Anger, familiar like a cold blade cut Arthur’s belly. “You!” It ran cold over his back, but this was the only explanation. “You’re making me see things! You-“ Arthur stumbled over his words. “You’ve ENCHANTED ME!”

The man’s eyes widened in utter confusion. “Enchanted you? Now you’ve really lost your mind.” Before Arthur knew it, the boy was in his face, holding a hand to his forehead.

Arthur flinched backwards. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for a fever.”

“Stop touching me!” Arthur’s skin tingled all over. Never in his life had people touched him so casually, touched him as if they had any right to do so!

“Relax, I’m the Court Physician’s apprentice, remember?” The man mumbled.

Arthur, evidently, did not. “You said you were a servant.”

“I’m both.” The man shook his head and finally stepped away. “Nope. Not a fever. You could actually be enchanted.”

Who the heck was BOTH?!

Arthur was growing angrier by the second. He needed something, someone to let his anger out on. “If you truly are a servant, then go ready my horse for a hunt!”

The man frowned, still unimpressed. “No!” He said simply, making Arthur stare at him in utter confusion. “You have a meeting in like -  right now, actually. I got caught up with the horses, since someone thought to give the stable hand a day off, and put all their work on ME. AGAIN.” The man reconsidered Arthur for a moment. “The meeting will have been yesterday, if you keep staring at me like that. Put on some clothes already and hurry up.”

“Did you just refuse an order of your King?”

Irritated, the man shook his head. “Just do it!”

Arthur was helpless to refuse him. He was being ordered around by a stranger and he had no idea how to feel about it. He was unarmed and his powers as King seemed to have lost their entire effect on the man, and his physical strength didn’t even impress him. And Arthur did not make a habit of choking people to death, even if a part of him wanted to do so.

As Arthur followed the servant/apprentice through the hallways, he was shocked to find the hallways filled to the brim with people. Laughing people, smiling people, who were not above greeting him. Awkwardly, he nodded back in a short, clipped manner. Arthur kept his mouth shut. This was definitely not his Camelot.

Latest, it would have become clear when he found Sir Leon rounding a corner.

“Sir Leon!” Arthur greeted him, causing the man to send him a smile. Arthur had not known that Leon could smile.

“Your majesty, how can I help?”

Arthur grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close to whisper in his ear. “Who is this man?” He would have asked Leon to remove the servant/apprentice, but the stranger hadn’t attacked Arthur except with his breakfast. Besides, the man didn’t listen to a King, why would he listen to a knight?

“Who, Sire?” Leon raised a confused brow.

“This guy!” Arthur pointed at his offender, who was waiting for him to follow him somewhere. Arthur didn’t know where, it was who knows what devilish early hour, and he didn’t normally have any appointments then.

Sir Leon followed his pointed finger and raised a brow. “Did you hit your head, Sire?”

Arthur hissed now. “I think this castle is enchanted. Either them or I! Nothing is as should be! Dead people are alive, people are roaming the hallways – I saw people dancing!”

Sir Leon tilted his head. “Isn’t that – a good thing?”

“HE did this!” Arthur’s pointing at the stranger intensified in its urgency. “REMOVE HIM from my side!”

Sir Leon stared at him incomprehensibly. “Him – Sire?”

“REMOVE HIM.”

Utter lack of comprehension. Then, finally, Leon laughed. “Is this a prank? Did Gwaine put you up to this?” He rolled his eyes in amusement – since when was Leon ever amused? – Tell him he needs to try harder to fool me.”

“Gwaine?” Arthur had never even heard of that name.

“He’s mad because I won a bet he was certain he would win. He’s such a fool.” He paused, considering. “I won’t tell you what the bet was, though. You’d have my head.” He laughed, carefree and squeezed Arthur’s shoulder once before moving on and leaving the King behind, speechless.

Arthur’s shoulders sagged.

His panic had a moment to settle, his anger a moment to rise and fuel him.

“Arthur, come on.” The nameless stranger called and Arthur had no choice but to follow him once more. Where else would he go anyway?

If Arthur had expected to find himself walking to the executioner’s platform, he was proven wrong quite quickly. Instead, they walked into a fully transformed court room.

It was like stepping into a dream that left Arthur in a stutter. A very old dream that attacked Arthur the moment the thirty-something young men in bright knight armour, illuminated by golden sunlight, rose to their feet to greet him. An ocean of red capes, all stitched with golden threads that spelled out the Pendragon insignia. And they stood, to his greatest shock, at a round table like they did in the stories of old, of the ancient Kings.

Once upon a time, long before his father had died and Morgana had betrayed them, Arthur had dreamed of establishing a place such as this. Where every man was equal, where every man at this table was familiar, loyal and trustworthy.

The dream had died with Arthur’s coronation. When he had had to attend war councils, had to appoint new advisers who listened to every word of his but only because he sat higher than them, on a chair richer as theirs, at a table that allowed for rank and name to be shoved in your face. When Arthur had to put fear into their hearts like his father had done because every man could be a sorcerer, waiting to attack him where he was most vulnerable. So, Arthur had not allowed himself to be vulnerable.
So, he had never attempted to achieve this.

It was magical, the way the golden dust settled on his dream, laid out right before him, reflected in the blue eyes and the concerned, suspicious grin of the nameless man beside him. Had Arthur really given up on this?

Blinking, Arthur opened his mouth, only to quieten when he saw the smiles and the joy that he had seen this morning in the courtyard.

‘What is this’” Arthur had asked. He stepped closer into the room full of wonder.

‘Joy my Lord.’

‘Everyone is smiling.’

‘Isn’t that a good thing?’

Arthur had thought that this – his dream – had been impossible. That no amount of work, no amount of trying could have made it a reality. Overcome with emotion, Arthur stepped forward to stand between the knights at his table. His fingertips hovered over the wood, afraid to touch it. It was in reach. So close, and yet so far away.

“Sire?” Asked a knight in a friendly tone. “If you’ll allow, I would like to start my speech on the grain reports.”

“Yes… Yes.” Arthur was lost in thought and pulled his hand away. “But first. What News do we have on Emrys?”

Next to him, the servant/ apprentice stilled.

The knight exchanged glances with each other. “Who?” Asked a man with long, shaggy hair and a stance that made him look a little sultry.

Arthur could hear his own heartbeat.

This was a world without Emrys, he concluded.
So that’s why.