Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

A/N - Here's the second chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who favorited or is following my story, you guys made my day!

Chapter 2: Arthur's Epic Reaction

Merlin straightened up from the wall, looking taller and more dignified than Arthur had ever seen him. "It's alright Gwaine," he said, but his eyes were locked with Arthur's.

"I'm a warlock."

Arthur stared in shock at the skinny, ridiculous manservant who had somehow become such a necessary part of his life. He sounded so… certain. The king wanted to laugh off his confession as completely ridiculous. After all, how could the same man who had tried to put a centipede in Arthur's bed this morning be an evil sorcerer? As nefarious plots went, it was rather pathetic. But then, what else could he expect from Merlin?

No. Arthur knew better than that. As foolish as Merlin may appear to those who didn't know him well, Arthur had spent seven years with the man as his constant companion. Although his clumsiness, his disrespectful attitude and his goofy grin made him seem like the idiot Arthur so often called him, he was in fact very intelligent. For one thing, he was literate, a rare ability among peasants. He attended most council meetings with Arthur, and seemed to grasp the everyday complexities of running a kingdom just as well as Arthur did, without having been trained all his life to do so. During the long winter nights when Arthur was bored, he and his manservant would sometimes play games of strategy, and Merlin usually won. When Arthur had no idea what to do, it was usually Merlin who ended up giving him the critical piece of advice or encouragement he needed. In fact, Arthur almost always regretted ignoring his manservant's advice, not that he would ever tell Merlin that.

The point being, that if Merlin wanted to plot against Camelot, he could almost certainly think of something better than putting a centipede in the king's bed.

If he were evil, he could have destroyed Camelot from the inside years ago. Arthur had trusted him absolutely, Merlin could have killed him easily if he had so desired. Therefore, Merlin couldn't possibly be a sorcerer.

But the look in his eyes… resignation. Terror, but also resolve. And… relief? Yes, relief. And pride. His whole demeanor spoke of pride, and a quiet self-confidence. It was in the steadiness of his gaze, the straightness of his spine, the angle of his chin. His whole body seemed to be saying, I refuse to be ashamed of who I am. He stood with a quiet dignity that Arthur had rarely seen his clumsy manservant display. And if his hands were trembling with fear, and his eyes were a little too bright, Arthur could hardly blame him.

A realization suddenly hit him. There was no way he could have survived that fall without… interference.

"You saved my life, didn't you." He said quietly.

"Yeah," Merlin replied, with another half smile. The moment was too serious for one of his trademark heartwarming smiles. "Again."

And Arthur believed him. When Merlin looked at him so seriously, it was impossible to doubt the truth of his statement. Merlin was never serious without a good reason.

With a start, he remembered all the knights and guards, standing behind him, watching their interaction, waiting to see what he would do. Waiting for his orders. Arthur felt numb, overwhelmed. He had no idea what to do, he needed more time… but now he could feel the gazes of his knights on his shoulder blades, and he knew that there was only one option open to him. He was the king, it was his duty to uphold the laws of Camelot, and Merlin had just broken them.

Arthur looked at Merlin. Would he fight his arrest? Did he even have enough power to do so? This morning he would have said that there was no way Merlin could ever take on any of his knights and have even the slightest chance of injuring them, but now he realized that he had no idea just what this new Merlin, this defiant and deceitful Merlin, was capable of.

But then, he had confessed to sorcery to protect Elyan and Gwaine. Whatever his true motives might be, it would be counterproductive to attack his knights now.

The king purposefully chose two of Merlin's friends, but also men he knew would obey his orders without question.

"Leon, Gareth. Arrest him."

Arthur was proud that the turmoil in his mind wasn't reflected in his voice. He sounded cold. Calm. In charge. Like he knew what the hell he was doing.

The two knights he had chosen moved forward silently to take Merlin gently by the arms, and the sorcerer didn't resist. He cast one pleading look towards Arthur as he walked towards the dungeons, shoulders straight, and whatever he was looking for in the king's face he seemed to find it. He turned around and didn't look back again.


Arthur walked back to his chambers in a daze. He had retrieved Excalibur from the beast's body, and ordered the removal and burial of the bodies. He had sent a messenger to fetch Guinevere. He had ignored Gwaine as he repeatedly insisted that Arthur let Merlin out of the dungeons, even going so far as to threaten to break him out if Arthur condemned him to the pyre.

The king collapsed onto his bed, head resting in his hands. Of all the stupid things Merlin could have done, he had to practice sorcery? Couldn't he have taken up knitting like a sane person? What had possessed him to risk his soul for a little bit of power?

Arthur sat up suddenly. That was it! Merlin was possessed! Or perhaps it wasn't really Merlin at all.

No. Arthur slumped back down. That would be far too easy. Of course Merlin was a sorcerer. After all, everyone else that he cared about had betrayed him, why would Merlin be the exception? Morgana, Agravaine, Guinevere… even Arthur himself had betrayed his father by trying to heal him with magic, and Uther had betrayed Gaius, his most loyal advisor, to the Witchfinder. Arthur should know by now that betrayal was an inevitable fact of life for princes and kings. But for all his obvious faults and quirks, Arthur had thought Merlin's loyalty to be beyond reproach. For Arthur, Merlin had drunk poison, suffered days in the stocks, allowed himself to be dragged on hated hunting trips, traveled to the Perilous Lands, stood up to the king, faced down a dragon, jumped in front of a Dorocha… Why had he done all those things, if he was a sorcerer?

Maybe the sorcery was a recent development? And if that was the case, maybe it hadn't corrupted him yet. Maybe he could make Merlin swear to never use it again, it had worked for his father and Gaius. And Gaius' knowledge of magic was damn useful. Yes, that was what he'd do. He'd make Merlin stay in the dungeons for a few weeks as a token punishment, and then publicly swear to never use magic again. The people would probably accept it, after all, Merlin had only used his magic to save Arthur's life and kill the beast. The council of lords might be a little more difficult, but even they would have to see the practicality of keeping around a loyal man who had knowledge of magic. After all, Gaius wasn't getting any younger.

Arthur felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He finally knew what to do. Maybe he could start a sorcerer rehabilitation program? Surely Merlin couldn't be the only person in the kingdom who had fallen to the temptation of sorcery, but had yet to harm anyone. Arthur had never really agreed with burning people for using magic to heal loved ones or grow crops. He had recently stopped his persecution of the druids, because he knew in his heart that it wasn't just.

Arthur's relief and newfound resolution only lasted until his wife burst into the room, wide-eyed and gasping, a trembling hand clenched above her collarbone.

She skidded to a stop when she saw him slumped on the bed. "It's true? You've arrested Merlin for sorcery?" Her voice was breathy and incredulous.

"He confessed. Elyan and Gwaine saw him use it. He… he saved my life." His voice sounded hollow. Here, with Guinevere, he could show how confused he was, how betrayed he felt.

She sat down on the bed beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. He wrapped hi arms around her, needing the physical contact to keep himself grounded.

"Do you remember," she whispered after a moment, "that plague seven years ago, the one that almost killed my father? Do you remember how he recovered miraculously, and I was arrested for sorcery? Merlin… Merlin actually confessed, and no one believed him." She let out a weak chuckle.

Arthur couldn't find it in himself to laugh, because he suddenly realized that there would never be a sorcerer rehabilitation program. If Merlin had been practicing sorcery as long as seven years ago then there was no way to save him, no way to excuse his actions. The man he trusted most in the world had been lying to him for SEVEN YEARS.

Arthur's heart throbbed in his chest, and the need to lash out at Merlin and hurt him the same way he had been hurt suddenly made itself known to Arthur's confused psyche. Merlin had BETRAYED him! Merlin had been lying to him all along, pretending to be his friend, lying right to his face. If he had lied about this, what else had he lied about? Arthur's breathing quickened and his pulse raced as his fury erased all rational thought from his brain. The only time he could ever remember being this angry was when Morgause had made him believe that his father had caused the death of his mother. Back then, it had been Merlin who had prevented him from killing the king. This time, it was Gwen who prevented him from killing Merlin.

Arthur leapt up and started to storm towards the dungeon, but Gwen quickly jumped up and stood in front of him, trying to restrain him with her hands on his chest.

"Arthur, wait! I know you're really angry right now, I know you're feeling hurt and betrayed, I am too, but think of it from his point of view! He must have been so scared. All these years he's carried this secret, and we never noticed. He must have been terrified, but he still saved your life." Her eyes filled with tears, and just like that Arthur felt his fury drain away and his heart shatter.

"Why?" He whispered brokenly. "Why would he do this? If he was a sorcerer, why did he ever come to Camelot? Why would he risk his life for me? Why would he earn my trust, only to call me a prat and put centipedes in my bed?" He spun away from her quickly and kicked the bedpost.

"I just don't understand!" He roared, and his voice cracked.

"Maybe you should ask him." Came an old, sorrowful voice from the doorway.

Arthur turned around again to see Gaius standing just inside the room. He looked very old and very tired.

"Did you know?" Arthur had to understand just how deep this betrayal ran. Perhaps there was a whole conspiracy of sorcerers, hidden behind the faces of people he thought he knew.

"Yes, I knew. I found out on the very first day he arrived in Camelot. I fell off the balcony in my chambers and he saved my life, much as he saved your life today."

Arthur briefly considered the idea that Merlin had caused both Gaius and himself to fall, so that he could save them and gain their trust. But that didn't make any sense; Merlin had already had Arthur's trust. Did he still have it? Arthur honestly didn't know. All of a sudden the king felt like he didn't know anything at all, maybe he had never known anything at all.

"You should go talk to him. I'm sure that right now he wants nothing more than the chance to explain himself to you. You owe him that much." Gaius' gaze was stern.

"He's right," Guinevere said, "the only way any of us will ever understand is to ask him."

Arthur bowed to the wisdom of his physician and his queen, and walked to the dungeons with as much dignity as he could muster while holding onto his wife's hand.


Arthur let go of Guinevere a few corridors before they reached the dungeons. He tried to hide his vulnerability behind a mask of righteous anger and cold detachment. He tried to be a king going to question a sorcerer, not a man going to demand answers from his best friend. He wasn't sure if he succeeded.

Arthur was afraid. He had always been much better at charging forward with a sword in his hand than dealing with his emotions. He had never really even told Merlin how much he meant to him, how much he relied on him and trusted him, but then, he'd never had too. Merlin had always just known what Arthur wanted to say, and saved him the embarrassment of actually saying it by insulting him or making a stupid joke. After seven years, Merlin knew Arthur better than anyone ever had. But it seemed that Arthur had never really known Merlin.

Arthur was afraid, because no matter what happened next, no matter what Merlin said, Arthur had been living a lie. If Merlin was evil, plotting the downfall of Camelot, corrupted by sorcery, then the man Arthur had considered to be his best friend had never even existed. But if Merlin wasn't evil… then everything Uther had ever taught him about the nature of sorcery was wrong. Then countless innocents had been slaughtered by his own hand.

Arthur honestly didn't know which idea was worse.

The pit in his stomach seemed to grow larger with every step he took.


A/N - This is my very first fanfic, so I would really appreciate any feedback you want to give me. Did you understand the connection between the colour red and the crazy bull in the last chapter? Is my writing style confusing at all? Does this story make you laugh, or is it too angsty? Please take pity on an anxious writer and review!