Arthur had just seen his servant, his best friend, his everything, use magic. He pointed his sword toward the traitor, but not quite as threateningly as he was hoping for.
"Good doesn't come from magic," he began halfheartedly, yet still so, so angry.
"You just haven't seen all the good it can do," responded Merlin, not concerned by the blade the king was unresolutely holding to his chest.
"I've seen enough..."
"No, you've seen war. Your father declared war on magic and you've resided solidly on the front lines for your entire life. You see nothing good in war."
"Then maybe you and your people should stop fighting back, yes?" Arthur spat back, bumping Merlin's chin with the flat of his blade. The warlock paid it no mind.
"Arthur, that's called genocide. That's the absolute slaughter of an entire people. Magic users are just people, Arthur. And most people don't want to just roll over and die," he said delicately, as though speaking to a child. Arthur's blood boiled.
"Why must they continue to attack, then? I've stopped hunting the druids! I've left them in peace yet my kingdom still suffers at the hands of magic!"
"You are suffering from the backlash of your fathers rein. You loved him, and he tried his best, but he was not a good king. He drowned children, Arthur. Children! For no other reason than being born. And as far as magical attacks go, the druids aren't the ones attacking. Your sister isn't a druid. And while I don't agree with her decisions, she has an incredibly valid reason for wanting you dead."
"That's rich coming from you! Planning an assassination, are we?" That was a low blow and Arthur knew it. Merlin had only ever been loyal. Yet, it was hard to hear Merlin defend someone who was trying so hard to kill him.
"Your father raised her in that court for years under the pretense that she was an orphan! Her magic began to manifest in her dreams and she spent years alone and afraid only to find out that Uther was her father all along and had never claimed her, never wanted to claim her! And you? You still persecute our kind! You still blindly follow your father's footsteps without even considering forming your own opinion! She has a legitimate claim to the throne! It's no wonder she keeps trying to kill you!"
His angry words struck a physical blow that time. He had a point, of course, and Arthur couldn't imagine being in position that she had been in. If magic had begun to manifest in him, son or not, Arthur would fear for his life. And no, he would not take the entire debacle lying down.
Excalibur's tip nudged into the ground now, his hold on the blade lax.
"... do you... do you think me a bad king? Would she be a better ruler?" He felt his knees wobbling, threatening to give way from under him. Merlin placed a gentle, steadying hand on his bicep.
"No. We've seen what her rule is like; magic might be free but Morgana is ever the tyrant your father was. You're not a bad king, Arthur. But, you've had better moments."
Arthur's knees finally buckled under his weight and Merlin eased him to the ground. There was a moment of relief, followed by guilt. Merlin had always given him that, "You Will Be the Best King," speech like he truly believed it, and maybe he did, but Arthur could always count on Merlin to speak the truth when it mattered. But that relief was swiftly replaced guilt.
Of course Merlin never told Arthur of his magic! He'd been at his side since the day he arrived in Camelot, seemingly without a choice, and never wavered in his loyalty. But that loyalty meant shit under Uther's laws where magic was concerned. Had he found out sooner, Merlin would most certainly be dead, and that was something Arthur couldn't bear to think of. Merlin feared for his life every day and stayed anyways, feared him yet stayed at his side. Arthur didn't deserve that.
He'd let Merlin down. He'd disappointed the truest friend he ever had, and betrayed so many of his faithful subjects who looked to him for protection. Maybe he wasn't a terribly bad king, but he wasn't the king he'd always wanted to be, either.
"I'm so sorry Merlin," he began. He allowed a single tear slide to down his cheek, but no more fell. "I'm so sorry I let you down, that you've had to live your life in fear of me."
Merlin scoffed, almost a laugh, and perched more comfortably on his knees in front of him. He felt rough fingertips sweep across his forehead with a tuft of his hair.
"I'm not afraid of you," Merlin hummed. "I've only ever been afraid of losing you." Apparently, the rough ground wasn't kind to his knees, because he soon abandoned that position in favor of sprawling out next to his king, casual as ever.
When Arthur didn't know how to such a statement, Merlin continued.
"I never believed you'd be truly upset over the whole 'having magic,' thing, more than the 'I didn't trust you,' thing. You're not an idiot, Arthur. I'm sure you suspected something of the sort."
Arthur quickly followed suit in lying on the ground, which was much easier to do than sitting up now that all the anger and adrenaline was out of his system.
"You flatter me, but give me too much credit," Arthur sighed, "I was far too busy avoiding my feelings for you to notice anything of the sort."
"Arthur Pendragon avoiding his feelings? Well, I've never!" Merlin joked, and the joke went over well despite the tense atmosphere. Arthur chuckled with him and nudged him with his elbow.
"So you do this often, then? This whole using magic to save my life thing?" He was referring to the incident that led to their current conversation, which consisted of a group of conveniently placed bandits and a few well aimed spells.
"As often as I can, my King," Merlin replied almost reverently. "For it is my duty to serve."
"You're still as insufferable as ever. You're not a knight, Merlin! You are held to no such obligation. So why?" It was a question Arthur had always wanted to ask him, even before he found out about all the magic. Arthur, in all his prattishness, never really treated Merlin well publicly. So, why was he so keen to serve?
"I'm effectively a creature of magic rooted in the Old Religion. My birth had been foretold for centuries, my path laid before me. Such as you were always meant to be a great king, I was always meant to serve you in any way I can."
"Sounds like some prophetic malarky to me," Arthur mused, trying to subtly make a dig at the whole, "Great King of Albion," thing.
"It was to me when I first heard it. But then I saved your life, and I kept saving your life, and I figured maybe there's something to this whole destiny thing."
The two quietly twined their fingers together, but didn't acknowledge the action.
"I need you to know that even though we're said to be two sides of the same coin, I don't serve you out of prophesied duty. Though nothing may ever come of it, I love you, Arthur. Far more than any servant should love his king," Merlin all but whispered, his words soft as though he would break should Arthur interrupt or deny him.
The young king ran his thumb over his servant's, and instead of professing his undying love as he wished to, which was another problem in its entirety and deserved its own conversation, he simply breathed a quiet, "Thank you."
"You will tell me of all your magical adventures, I hope," Arthur said louder a long moment later.
"Of course I will!" Merlin exclaimed through a grin, "Though, we should probably do that in the safety of the castle, don't you think?"
"Whatever you say, oh powerful sorcerer," Arthur mocked as pulled himself to his feet, offering an arm to Merlin to assist him. He retrieved their horses and handed Merlin his horse's reins.
"Warlock," Merlin corrected as they mounted, and it was though nothing had changed, even though everything had.
After the initial shock and anger, Arthur found he was far less disturbed by the fact that Merlin had magic as he should have been. He also found that if he were comfortable with anyone having magic, of course it would be Merlin. They kept up their usual small talk all the way back to the castle, some light stories of Merlin's adventures here and there, which was a nice distraction for the excitement that rushed Arthur at the thought of what they could do with their future.
Sappy as it was, Arthur thought that with Merlin at his side Camelot's future looked bright indeed.