"You- You're a-" A sword clattered to the ground when it was released from suddenly slack fingers as Uther stumbled backward to slump into a chair. Arthur and the many knights gathered in the hall were sporting similar expressions, though they had managed to keep their swords on them out of pure instinct. It was Arthur who was the first to break out of his trance.
"Merlin- You-"
"I'm sorry."
Startled, Arthur stared at his manservant – ex-manservant now – and couldn't help the small tug on his heart when he saw the broken look on the young man's face. Morgana was gone, something the knights could never have achieved on their own, but the price was great. Too great, maybe. A lot of things had been broken – hearts, love, trust – and it would be very difficult, near impossible, to get them back.
"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered, his expression straining against the tears and sobs that wanted to rise from deep inside his heart, from the place where he had let himself hope that he would be able to always stay with Arthur – his Arthur. Now though…
"I didn't want to hide it from you," whispered the stricken warlock as he finally sunk to his knees in despair. "But – surely – you can understand, if I'd told, if someone found out- the more who knew, the more dangerous it was and- and I- I had to stay. I had to- I had to protect you! I couldn't- I can't do anything else, it's who I am- what I am and it's-"
Arthur felt the fear and panic that had seized him retreat slightly, and with a sigh he sheathed his sword and moved to place a hand on Merlin's shoulder, hoping to comfort his servant – his friend – but then Uther's voice rang out, loud and with only the slightest quiver.
"Guards, arrest him!"
There was silence for a few moments as the rest of the room shuddered out of its shock and the guards looked at each other, each trying to pass the duty onto someone else, until suddenly two of the knights were moving forward instead – Sir Leon and some new kid from over the border who didn't really understand what was happening - and Merlin was up, fists clenched and eyes on fire.
"No!"
"Merlin," Arthur cried, drawing his sword again, hesitating as duty and loyalty and friendship warred against each other, and that small cry was enough for Merlin's eyes to cool, the blue, blue sky replacing the burning wildfire. "Merlin," he muttered, taking a step forward, putting himself between the knights and his friend, yet with his sword pointing defensively towards the warlock.
There was a tiny smile on Merlin's face now as he gazed at Arthur, the world around not even mattering to him anymore. It almost brought a smile to the prince's face too, despite just how stupid it was to be smiling when you were on the brink of being executed – but, then, that was Merlin all over – and then Merlin was glancing over his shoulder, his gaze hardening, to regard first the knights and then Uther.
"I will take no orders from you, Uther Pendragon." He saw the flinch, saw how Uther, in all his age and instability, was terrified of the mere thought of Merlin – of magic – being so close to him, and felt a slight bit of his rage drain from his eyes. "I will take no orders, because you may be the King of Camelot now, but you are not my King, and never have been. I answer to one person, and one person alone, and that person is not you."
There was another flinch, but it was no longer fear but anger that fuelled Uther to stand once again, his voice incredulous and commanding. "You dare to mock me? I am King, and while you stand in my kingdom, you will answer to my laws. By my laws, you are guilty of practicing the art of magic, and therefore are sentenced to execution by burning. Guards, take him away!"
This time the guards didn't hesitate, that familiar tone in the King's voice causing them to jump to their duties. But Merlin wasn't playing along, he never intended to, and in the next second his eyes were burning molten gold and every man who had moved was flying backwards through the air to land – gently - against the far walls.
"You cannot order me to suffer my own execution, Uther. I will not die by your hand! Drag me to the dungeons, lock me up and tie me to the stake to be burnt all you want, but I will escape. My life is not yours to destroy!"
Uther was glowering, his men slowly returning to their feet to inch forward, more care in their steps this time, but silence fell when the moment was cut by a voice, soft and definitely-not-worried, yet very, very sad. "What about me?"
Merlin started, his golden gaze dissolving as his eyes moved to regard Arthur in surprise. "Sire?"
Arthur swallowed - nervous, searching - but then his voice hardened and his chin jerked up as his regality – that aspect of him that meant that all who met him instantly knew him as a King, whether consciously or not – surfaced again.
"What about me," he questioned Merlin as the other froze in place. "Were I to order your execution, would you escape? Would you run? Or would you- Would you-" He stopped, the end of his sentence choking off slightly. He couldn't, he just couldn't say it. No one, no one, should have to do that, should have to- No one! Especially notMerlin - Merlin who was kind, and loyal, and ridiculously stupid yet at the same time amazingly wise and his best friend and he couldn't do it! He couldn't even say it-
Wouldn't- Couldn't- Didn't-
"For you," the murmur came, a very solemn and very not-the-stupid-manservant-of-a-prince Merlin bowing his head in the perfect sign of obedience – a sign the normal Merlin would never show – and Arthur had to swallow back his own tears-
"For you," he whispered, "I would do anything."