Thank you for the great response.

Time passes by. It's quiet in a bad way because the silence in Lancelot's chambers is deafening and it's tense and fearful.

Arthur's head is still in his hands, his eyes staring at the ground without really seeing anything and Merlin is still with him, but Arthur doesn't look – doesn't dare look, because he's afraid that when he does, he might see someone different. He might see something treacherous, the sorcerers Uther has warned him about. He's afraid Merlin might not be Merlin at all.

Merlin hasn't said a word, only breathes – but Arthur still feels the erratic irregular energy around him and it's difficult to think straight when things are so blatantly obvious.

"How?" Arthur speaks up when the thoughts get too much, when they're going too fast for him to keep up and when he just needs to hear it. And Merlin replies him in a breath and the shake in his voice is almost gone, but Arthur still hears it. He can still hear the tremble at the foundation of the words so carefully chosen. "You didn't see," Merlin says. "It was better this way."

And it doesn't explain anything, possibly makes things worse and maybe Arthur should leave. Maybe he should get up, walk away and never look back.

"Was all a lie?" Arthur instead wonders and finally looks up to Merlin, their eyes finding each other and it seems the fire in Merlin spreads through him and the defeat in Arthur crumbles. For a second, there's nothing but a scorching in his veins and they're connected the way they always were before everything started spiralling out of control. "No." Merlin answers and the determination in his voice makes it truth. Arthur believes the way Merlin believes.

The next question and the emotion behind it seems to catch Merlin off-guard and he looks away, averting his gaze to his feet and the connection is broken. They're just two boys now and the pain once again wells up, underneath Arthur's still prickling skin. "Were you going to tell me?" Arthur asks and Merlin says: "I wanted to."

Arthur nods more to himself because Merlin is no longer looking at him. They're just two boys and Arthur throbs painfully with betrayal and uncertainty. It feels as if he's seven years old again, alone – surrounded by faces he's supposed to recognize but they're all meaningless and he knows it's all in there somewhere inside him but he can't quite reach it. It's all too far away.

But while caught in the nostalgia, Arthur realizes that there's one face he recognizes and he clings to it with bare hands – holds the memory and the feelings and the face close.

"You weren't going to tell me, were you?" It's even quieter now but the air has changed, because instead of an angry and tense silence, it's just air now. It's as if all energy has been sucked out. But Merlin is still on edge and it's hard for Arthur to not look at him. Because it's still Merlin, but now Arthur starts noticing all kinds of new things he's never noticed before.

"I don't know." Merlin tells him and he's not lying. They look at each other again and Merlin's eyes are wet and Arthur has to fight his own tears more than ever, because yes – there is anger and fury and it's there but it's nothing compared to the mutual pain they share, to the mutual pain they have shared in the past. "Perhaps if…" Merlin murmurs, blinks a few times and then continues. "Perhaps I would have."

"You could've told me," Arthur says and searches for the last traces of anger in his heart but finds nothing. It's all been washed away. "I'm not a fool."

"No," Merlin agrees, simply and there's a long silence between them until Merlin starts talking in a quiet sort of way that makes Arthur listen. "You know, after a while," Merlin struggles. "you get used to being overlooked. Because – because at night you need to sleep and in the morning you have to get up."

Arthur doesn't understand, or maybe he just doesn't want to. "At first it hurts, you know? To be left behind. I wanted you to acknowledge me, Arthur. Because at times you were such a prat, and I just wanted to make you see me. And on other days I felt like leaving because you're my best friend… And - and it didn't feel real to me. Well, it did, but I just knew that if you knew…"

Arthur only watches as Merlin swallows his pain and guilt and then continues in a stronger voice. "I wanted to tell you everything, every day. Every minute I was with you and every minute I wasn't," Merlin says and looks Arthur straight in the eyes and there's a strange golden glint around the edges of Merlin's eyes. Arthur realizes that Merlin's a part of magic as much as magic is a part of Merlin and Arthur realizes things are what they are and things will be just the way he wants them to be, what they want them to be. "I've carried the burden," Merlin says. "Because you needed to be alive. And you needed to be King."

Arthur speaks through the tightness in his throat, follows the trail of one tear down Merlin's cheek and maybe this is the moment that matters more than anything. "Was it worth it?" Arthur asks.

Merlin doesn't reply, only smiles. And Arthur knows the answer.

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