A few things you should know about this fic before we start in on the fun stuff: Arthur is still Prince, Uther is obviously not dead, Morgana is evil but no one but Merlin and Gaius know, but Elyan, Percival, Gwaine, and Lancelot are all knights, I'm only on series 4, aaaand that's about it. For now. If there's anything else I feel you should know about this fic, I will let you know as soon as I think you need to know it.

Oh, and trigger warning: there are mentions, threats of rape in this chapter. So if you can't handle that sort of thing, I'd turn back now. There's nothing graphic, it's only talk, and it's a very brief part, but I thought I should warn you anyway, just in case it's a triggering subject for any of you lot.

Disclaimer: I've come to accept the fact that I don't own Merlin and that I probably never will. What I am still in denial about, however, is Lancelot's death. He is dead and I am still very sad about it, which is why I made it a point to have him in this fic. I love him damnit, and he should not have died as soon as he did.

Title:
Merlin's Secret
Chapter One:
The Reveal.

It had all happened so fast.

One second, Arthur and Merlin were running through the woods, having been separated from the knights in an ambush led by Cenred's men, the next they found themselves surrounded by some of the very men who had cut them off from the knights, having no idea how there were so many of them or how they had found them so quickly; how they had gotten past them and had been able to get into place like that without either of them noticing.

But none of that mattered once the hostile, almost blood-thirsty men were around the pair.

Arthur pulled his sword out and pressed his back against Merlin's. Merlin had no weapon of his own—why didn't Arthur insist on getting him his own sword when they were getting ready to head out that morning? They had been caught often enough like this that he knew it was necessary, that even with Merlin's limited combat training he could handle himself well enough with a decent sword if it came to it, that it would be bloody useful for Merlin to have a weapon of some sort—and there was no way Arthur could protect both himself and Merlin from all these men. He could try, but there was just no way he would succeed.

As the men glared at the pair, jeered at them, threatened them, wondered aloud what to do with them, Arthur scanned between them, searching for a weak spot of any sort, for an opening for Merlin to break through and take cover, get himself some place safe while Arthur... Well, while Arthur did what needed to be done.

"Got anything to say for yerselves, boys?" A bulky knight with tangled hair and a mangled face nearest Arthur asked, his twisted grin making Arthur's blood boil. He had faced this man many times before, had injured him, had narrowly escaped death by him, had killed many of his comrades in fights and battles and raids and games and in any other matters when Arthur's people were in danger and protection was required. He knew this man far too well, and knew that if he were here, it meant little chance of them escaping without harm. If they got out with their lives they would be too lucky.

"Look," Arthur sighed at last, finding that their grip on the boys was far too tight for Merlin to have a second to escape, and they were far too out-numbered for Arthur to do much with his sword alone. And since desperate times called for desperate matters, he could only try one thing. Just one thing to attempt to save Merlin's life. He knew it had little chance of working, but... He had to try at least. "You've got a bone to pick with me, but... let my servant go," he said slowly at last.

Merlin gasped, surely about to open that big mouth of his to protest, but Arthur jabbed him in the back with his elbow, he would not have him ruining the plan, he would not have that idiot risking his life.

The knight that addressed Arthur before—Sir Liwry, Arthur was sure he was called—let out a sound between a scoff and a chortle. His demand was not well received, so it seemed, but Arthur was sure he could reason with these men—with Liwry, at least. He had a manservant of his own, after all, and while he was probably not the best master in the kingdom—certainly not as nice as Arthur was to Merlin—Arthur was sure he would want his servant let go in a situation such as this.

Maybe.

"And why would we do that?" Liwry asked, his sword still poised, his grip still tight, his muscles still ready to go. Arthur bit his lip before answering.

"Because your problem is with me, not my servant. He has never wronged you in the ways that I have," he said evenly.

"Arthur, don't—" Merlin hissed under his breath at last, his voice tight with what Arthur could only assume was a clenched jaw. He was scared. And Arthur was going to make it right, was going to keep Merlin safe if it was the last thing he did.

"Shut up, you girl. You want out with your life, don't you?"

"Not if it costs you yours,"

"I can handle myself, you on the other hand would die if left to fend them all off. At least I stand a chance."

"Not against this many. Not without your knights," Merlin shook his head, his hair brushing against Arthur's neck with the movement. Arthur shook his head back and brought his gaze back up to Liwry, who was watching the pair almost patiently. He always did like to toy with his opponent before finally striking the final blow. He was just dragging this out, hoping to watch Arthur's eyes fill with panic and fear. He was hoping he could make Arthur show the same weakness on the battle field that he himself had shown far too many times to still be alive.

Arthur would be damned if he gave Liwry that satisfaction.

"Let my manservant go," Arthur repeated, his voice still strong and unwavering.

"And what if I said no?" Liwry demanded, inching his sword closer to Arthur's face. Arthur let out a breath, letting Liwry only get so close because he held Merlin's Fate in his hands as well as his own.

"What would be the point?" Arthur asked after a beat, trying a different tactic. "He's but a servant who means less than dirt to the king, hardly worth your time when there are real knights of Camelot running around out here. Why waste your time on a mere palace boy the king wouldn't miss anyway? In fact," Arthur said, almost mischievous, "If you were to let a mere servant boy live while you killed the crowned prince of Camelot, don't you think that would rattle my father more than just killing me would? Why—he would be outraged, livid almost. He wouldn't be able to look Merlin in the eye ever again." Arthur almost laughed, hoping to get a rise out of the people surrounding him, hoping to get at least a few of them on his side. If he could get just one of these knights to agree with him, Merlin's life would not be lost, as the will of many was often swayed by the one.

"But you're over-looking one fine detail, Sire," Liwry seethed sarcastically. Arthur's stomach churned at the look on his face, the look of a man who had already won a battle not even fought yet. The look of a man who had far too many tricks up his sleeve.

"And what would that be?" Arthur asked, curious. His father barely knew Merlin's name, he would not miss him if he were gone, Arthur knew, feeling a twinge of disappointment in his father. How could his father not care about Merlin? he wondered angrily. Merlin was a good servant, a good person, and for his father not to give a rat's ass about whether he lived or died—what kind of king was that?

No, he had over-looked nothing. His father would mourn Arthur and Arthur alone and leave Merlin's death to Gwen and Gaius, and the knights he had befriended over the years, and think nothing more of him.

"You, dear Arthur, care far too much for the boy," Liwry declared. Arthur gave him a curious look, his eyebrows poised with the question Liwry answered without prompt. "If we were to let him live, you would know a sense of peace in your death, and who would want a thing like that?" he asked, circling around the pair until he came to a stop in front of Merlin. He reached his sword out and tilted Merlin's chin up and then moved it to the sides, almost inspecting him.

Arthur heard Merlin's low sounds of discomfort, could feel his back tense against his own and felt a surge of panic, of anger, rise up in his veins. "Liwry, if you touch a hair on his head, I promise you I will—"

"Oh, relax, young Arthur, I would never harm the boy. Cenred's guards, on the other hand, well, it's been a while since they had a prisoner as pretty as this one to keep them themselves busy." Liwry chuckled darkly, a few of his men joining in.

Arthur's blood ran cold and his heart itself seemed to growl in anger. There had been rumors, of course, of Cenred's men doing unspeakable things to their prisoners, things that Uther would have anyone in his kingdom hanged for, but they had only been rumors before.

Until now. Until Liwry threatened to have it done to Merlin.

Now it was real, now it was personal.

Jaw clenched as Liwry and a few of the surrounding men began to joke about the sort of things the guards would do to Merlin, Arthur moved at last and grabbed Liwry by the front of his chainmail. Merlin shot him a look as Liwry raised his sword and the men all came to attention, rushing forward to Liwry's aid.

Arthur was much too close to use his sword, as was Liwry, fortunately, and as the men swelled forward and he was certain his death was to come shortly, he raised his fist and pulled back, hitting Liwry's jaw with all the strength he could muster and letting him fall to the ground unconscious with the force of it.

Moving quickly, Arthur bent down and snatched Liwry's sword up, thrust it into Merlin's inexperienced hands and took his position at Merlin's back once again. Just before the men gathered closer around them and began to swing at them with all their might, Arthur hissed at Merlin quickly.

"Swing fast, strike hard, make every blow count, and try not to die,"

Merlin simply nodded in response just before the men came at them, all of them swinging their swords at them at once, each of them trying to land death blows.

Arthur, of course, was able to counter and block most of the shots, only one or two getting past him and scratching his arms in several places, but Merlin was having much more difficulties, barely managing to avoid the blows and becoming filled with more wounds and injuries than Arthur.

As another sword got past Merlin and he was struck once again, Arthur, thusly gritting his teeth every time he heard a blow make contact and Merlin hiss in pain under his breath, heard a terrible ripping sound, heard Merlin cry out in pain and felt his shoulders slump ever so slightly.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, not bothering to hide the worry in his voice. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, peachy," Merlin hissed back, regaining his footing and squaring his shoulders once more as he gripped his pilfered sword. "You know, aside from bleeding out of more than half of my body and the knights who want to kill or rape me—just. Peachy." Merlin told him bitterly, bringing a small smile to Arthur's face as he slowly moved around, still blocking and countering everything that was thrown at him. His words at Arthur being filled with so much bite and sarcasm put the prince at ease for just a moment; as long as he was still able to give him such answers, Arthur knew he was all right.

In his mind, Arthur was trying to work out a plan. They couldn't keep this up forever—it was just the two of them, after all. Either the other knights were going to find them and come to their rescue, or they were going to succumb to them eventually, and die—or worse, if Cenred's knights were serious about what they would have done to Merlin. There must have been some way to get away, to find an escape for Merlin at least, but how—

"Arthur," Merlin began suddenly, his voice tight, almost wary to Arthur's ears.

"Yeah, Merlin?" Arthur asked, trying not to become too distracted by Merlin's words.

"You trust me?"

"What?" Arthur asked, narrowly blocking a sure-to-be fatal blow as Merlin caught him off guard.

"Do you trust me?" Merlin repeated, his words punctuated with the sound of metal against metal and his shallow breath. He probably hadn't seen as much action in his life, Arthur was sure, and this was probably wearing thin on him. He would not be able to keep it up much longer. Arthur had to come up with a plan. And fast.

"'Course," Arthur threw over his shoulder too casually, the question was rather absurd in a situation as this, but he couldn't be bothered to wonder about it too much at the moment. More pressing matters at hand and all.

"Good. I'm glad." Merlin murmured, blocking a sword on his left with a sudden burst of, dare Arthur think it, the hopes of talent.

"What are you prattling on about?" Arthur mumbled back instead, his arms beginning to ache with every blow he blocked.

"Arthur," Merlin said again. "Whatever happens—"

"Don't—don't talk like that, Merlin. Everything is—"

"We are going to die unless someone does something."

"And what, you're supposed to be that someone?" Arthur snorted, trying to pass off some humor to balance out the fear he had heard in Merlin's voice. He would not let Merlin die—what didn't he understand about that?

"Look, Arthur—"

"No, you look—"

"No, Arthur, look." Merlin insisted suddenly, catching Arthur's attention and throwing it to just near them where Liwry was stirring, pulling himself to his feet and making his way towards the pair.

Arthur swallowed and swore under his breath. He could handle a bunch of men coming at him and Merlin, none of them experienced or skillful enough to actually do much, even with the numbers in their favor, but Sir Liwry, even without his sword, could cause a problem. He could knock them out, take them off guard, give the others an opening to take them out. He would tip this fight for the worse.

And what was worse, was that Arthur didn't have a thought in the world that might help them out of a situation such as this.

~!~!~!~!~!

He would take his secret of magic to the grave, Merlin had been sure of. He would never tell Uther, obviously, and he would never tell Arthur, as Merlin was aware that Uther's hatred of magic had influenced his son in a way Merlin was always worried by.

He would stand by and watch Arthur rule one day, use his magic in silence when necessary, but he would never reveal his secret. Never.

Of course, that had been before he and Arthur found themselves surrounded by Cenred's men and had a very pissed off Liwry approaching them, looking about ready to skin them alive.

Arthur's knights were no where to be found, Arthur had no plan—they were going to die if Merlin didn't do something quickly.

He was aware of the risks, aware that he would be risking his life to keep Arthur alive, but there wasn't a day that went by that Merlin wasn't doing that anyway.

He was aware that Arthur could have him burned at the stake for what he was about to do, but with Liwry's sword in his hand, with all the blood he had lost, he didn't see what—

Liwry was on Arthur then, trying to wrestle his sword from him as his men kept hitting him, filling him with deep gashes that made Merlin flinch just looking at him. His decision seemed to have been made for him, then.

Liwry took Arthur in a head-lock, spun him around to face Merlin, held their faces too close together. His blonde hair was matted with blood, his face stained with it as well, and Merlin saw in his eyes the look of a man who had failed.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." He whispered, shaking his head the tiniest bit that Liwry's hold would allow.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." Merlin corrected, biting his lip. He threw the sword down to the ground, ignoring Arthur's confusion and Liwry's curiosity. He looked at Arthur once more, taking in a deep breath and listening to his thudding heart while he relished in the last moments he would have of semi-normalcy and, probably, of freedom.

Still looking at Arthur, still maintaining eye contact, he let his eyes flash golden, let Arthur see him for who he truly was...

And then he knocked out everyone who had swung their swords at them.

Mmm, I'm afraid I haven't much experience writing fight/actiony scenes, but I did the best I could with what I did know, so hopefully it turned out all right.

I've been wanting to write a magic-reveal fic for the longest time now, and this is what I've come up with. Next chapter we see the aftermath and how Arthur's reacting to everything. I've seen a lot of fics where he gets all pissed and raises his sword to him and is like, "WTF, Merlin, you're a god damn sorcerer?! I thought we were friends! Why didn't you tell me! Don't you trust me? How could you think that of me?" etc. etc.. I don't much fancy those sorts of reactions, to tell the truth. I feel like they've been done to death in pretty much every reveal fic I've read. So take from that what you will.

Always,
Hisa-Ai.