Arthur felt again the sensation of being under water. Sounds were muffled, faces around him wavered. His voice echoed in his ears as if he was shouting down a long, empty tunnel. "What is the truth?"

"Arthur, I …" Merlin's gaze went past him.

Gaius gave a slight shake of his head.

Arthur's hands clenched on the arms of his chair. "What is the truth?"

Merlin met his eyes. "I have magic."

A gasp went around those seated at the Council table. Guinevere's hand was now squeezing his and her breathing was rapid. The old physician slumped in his chair; his lined face aged a dozen years.

Arthur's jaw tightened. "What of Agravaine?"

"I tried to get them lost in the tunnels but he and his men cornered me."

That sounded like the truth and exactly the kind of situation Arthur feared Merlin would end up in when he chased after their pursuers.

"I gave them fair warning, but then I had to kill them."

That, on the other hand, did not sound like the man Arthur knew. There had been half a dozen men plus his uncle. All dead, and not a mark on Merlin. Rarely did the younger man sustain a battle injury despite his lack of coordination and training. "How did you survive the Dorocha?"

There was a wry twist to Merlin's lips. "I was barely conscious; all I remember is reaching out to the stream and calling to the spirits."

Arthur felt his heart pound. "Spirits?"

"The Vilia. They healed me."

"How did you call them?"

Merlin gave a tiny shrug. "I don't know really. I reached out with my magic and I felt them answer."

"The Lamia," Gwen whispered.

Arthur's head snapped toward her.

The blood had drained from her face as she stared at Merlin. "She was afraid of you."

"Yes," Merlin answered quietly.

Gwen was wide-eyed. "What happened in the corridor with Morgana?"

"I saw her draw back her sword to strike you, so I struck at her first. It was more power than I intended but it happened so quickly." Merlin's gaze was pleading but his voice was steady, maybe even relieved. "Where she went after, though, I truly don't know."

"Agravaine's troops?" Arthur asked.

Merlin's eyes darted in Gaius's direction again before meeting his. "I called the dragon to stop them from hunting us or hurting anyone in Ealdor."

There was another collective gasp in the room. This time it was Geoffrey who placed a hand on his heart.

Arthur kept his eyes on his servant's face. "What dragon, Merlin?"

"The Great Dragon. Kilgharrah. The one that used to be chained below Camelot. The one I set free."

The sensation of being under water changed to one of being encased in a raging fire, surrounded by screams. For three days he had watched his knights bravely face the fire-breathing monster from the sky, not knowing which of them would die that night, followed by three months of mourning and rebuilding. The lame and injured still lived on the city streets.

"You sent that monster to attack Camelot?"

"No." Merlin's pale face was now flushed. "I set him free, but I tried to stop his attack."

Arthur stared open-mouthed. "You set a fire-breathing monster free and then hoped to stop his attack?"

"He helped me; he's my friend."

There were no words to respond to that. In his mind Arthur saw the towers of Camelot cracked and smoking from the dragon's assault. Then he remembered the huge Tomb of Ashkanar crumbling into dust and Merlin running to safety.

"What happened to the egg?"

Merlin looked puzzled.

"The dragon's egg?" Arthur asked more forcefully. "Was it really crushed when the tomb collapsed?"

"No. I rescued the egg."

His father had nearly rid the world of such monsters, now one was escaped and another poised to spawn more death and terror. "Where is the egg now?"

Merlin shook his head.

"Where is it?" Let him prove his sincerity by turning over the evidence of this treachery.

"It hatched."

"Hatched?" Hundreds of years that egg had been locked in the tomb, and now it hatched? "How can that be?"

"I hatched it."

Arthur struggled to draw breath. "There are now two of these monsters flying around the Five Kingdoms?"

Merlin nodded.

All his father's work to rid the land of those monsters, undone by a few reckless acts of one sorcerer. A traitor who disguised himself as a friend, or as an old man when it suited him.

Arthur stood. Slowly he approached Merlin who watched him nervously. "Are you the sorcerer who killed my father?"

"Yes, but, I tried to heal him."

"You tried to heal him so that when I became king I would lift the ban on magic?"

"Yes."

"That's what you wanted all along, that's why you stayed by my side?"

"Yes, but –"

"Enough!" How dare the lying traitor assume he could excuse his actions, excuse anything he had done.

Arthur's hand clenched at his waist where his sword hilt normally was. The fire he felt raging around him roared in his ears and he was tempted to stop the excuses, the lies with the thrust of a blade. He felt exactly as he had when he saw his uncle stride forward to join Morgana's attacking forces. Was there no one in the entire world Arthur could trust not to betray him?

Merlin's pale face was in front of him, his nervous gaze fixed on Arthur's face. "Arthur, please believe me –"

"Save your lies and excuses for your trial." Arthur gestured at the guards holding Merlin. "Take him to the cells."

For a moment, Merlin did not move even though the guards tugged on his arms. Arthur had never seen that look in his servant's good-natured face before, a look that made Arthur take a step backward. Then it was gone, replaced by an expression of such hopelessness that Arthur felt guilty before anger and resentment drowned the flash of sympathy.

The king watched as Merlin, head hung and shoulders slumped, walked from the Council room between his guards. Arthur took his seat and fixed Gaius with a steady stare.

"Sire," the old physician began.

Arthur held up one hand and Gaius closed his mouth. "Are you going to plead ignorance of your ward's abilities?"

Gaius folded his hands on the table in front of him, the wide sleeves of his red robe making the wrinkled wrists look thin and frail. "No, Sire."

"Camelot still needs a physician. However, I cannot have anyone untrustworthy as part of my Privy Council. You are dismissed."

The old man bowed his head in submission before his chin snapped up and he fixed Arthur with a stern look. "The boy loves you, Arthur. He has sacrificed much to keep you safe."

"I am aware that you would do anything to protect the boy, even to giving up your own life. You will pardon me if I doubt anything you might say about him."

The old man's jaw clenched but he said nothing more as he got slowly to his feet, gave a stiff bow, and left the room.

Gaius's departure broke the stunned silence that had held the remaining Council members in thrall through successive revelations. The moment he left, they broke into a clamour of frightened and angry disagreements, each trying to drown out the others.

"A sorcerer!"

"How many years?"

"He's had access to every corner of the citadel."

"Every corner of the kingdom."

"No one is safe."

"Who knows what he's done!"

"Who knows what he's capable of?"

"Sire." Cador's voice carried over the uproar. "Can the cells hold him?"

The question struck Arthur with the force of a blow. Merlin had spent time in the cells before, in the stocks, and had not escaped. As far as anyone knew.

Uncertainty struck all of those around the table and they exchanged anxious glances.

"What might he do?"

"What if he attacks the city?"

"We might all be murdered in our beds."

Arthur wanted to scoff at the thought of Merlin as a threat to Camelot or any of them. After all, the boy had lived among them for years, but … but if he no longer believed there was any hope of the law changing might he turn against them the way Morgana had? The bodies outside Ealdor had been described in detail: burned corpses with charred hands clasped around useless weapons, Agravaine and those who took cover in the tunnels all had broken necks. Not a single survivor and Merlin without a mark on him. And Arthur recalled the devastation the dragon had wrought on the city the last time it attacked, when there had been only one living dragon.

The voices of frightened old men continued around Arthur.

"A dragon …"

"King Uther's death …"

"A sorcerer in Camelot, he must be in league with Morgana."

That idea was absurd, Merlin was the one who had known the truth about Morgana before any of them. Had known and not told anyone, not even Arthur. But was that to protect the kingdom, or to protect Morgana?

"… poison."

"Yes, it will be easy enough to arrange."

The king's attention was jerked back to the conversation his councillors were holding. A few were nodding agreement to whatever had been said.

"What?" Arthur demanded.

Aguisel's narrow face framed by thinning salt-and-pepper hair turned to Arthur. "The boy has admitted his guilt, there is no need to wait for a trial to learn his other crimes. If we poison him in his cell he will pose no further threat."

Arthur's breath caught at the memory of Merlin lifting a poisoned goblet to his lips, intending to save his master and prince, then falling to the floor, one hand at his throat. Willing to sacrifice himself to protect Arthur. For one reason only, Arthur reminded himself: so that he would become king and allow magic free reign once more.

"Sire, it must be done quickly, before whoever is in league with him learns what has happened."

"No."

Several of the grey-haired men around the council table looked at the king in puzzlement.

"No," Arthur repeated. Merlin was guilty of years of plotting and lying, but he would answer for that at his trial and the king would decide his punishment. It would not be assassination in a dungeon cell. "He is not to be harmed."

"But, Sire." Aguisel's pinched face was frowning. "This boy has fooled us all, even King Uther himself, for years. He must have dozens of allies throughout the city, possibly even a way to contact Morgana. And if he is in league with a dragon we cannot risk –"

"The safety of my people is always my first concern," Arthur said. "Merlin will not attack Camelot before he has a chance to speak at his trial."

"And what then, Sire?"

Guinevere's hand gripped his tightly where it rested on the arm of his chair. She had remained silent, her eyes anguished, her breathing rapid.

Arthur eased his hand out from under hers and stood. "I will render my judgement at the trial." He left the room, headed for the training ground and demanding that no one disturb him.

Merlin sat on the tiny cot, knees drawn up to his chest with his chin resting on them, staring at the dirty straw on the floor of the cell. Unlike the cells he had previously seen the inside of, this one had a bed. He had been given a blanket, though thin and full of holes, and the air moved enough to give relief from the nauseating dungeon smells. He even had the luxury of a chamber pot.

He had considered and discarded the idea of blasting open the cell door and confronting Arthur immediately rather than waiting for a trial. Such a display of power would do little to convince the king he was not a threat. Better to wait until Arthur was ready to listen. If he would ever be ready to listen.

For the hundredth time, Merlin berated himself for not having told the truth earlier. If he had picked a time, any time, explained it all to Arthur, made him understand instead of waiting until the king jumped to the wrong conclusion. Or the right conclusion for the wrong reasons. So many chances to speak, so many times since Uther's death the words had been on the edge of Merlin's tongue, wanting desperately to spill out, and he had held back.

Now it was too late to choose the time, too late to break it to Arthur gently. Now Merlin had to defend himself and his actions when the king thought the worst. It was going to be that much harder to show him it had all been for Arthur's benefit.

"Merlin."

His head snapped up at the beloved voice to see the white-haired man standing with hands folded in front of his embroidered red robe. Merlin blinked a few times in the dim, smoky illumination from a single torch held by the guard behind Gaius. The helmeted face eyed them both suspiciously.

"Gaius." Merlin got to his feet and approached the metal bars that separated his cell from the hall where the old man stood. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Merlin."

"It is. I should have told him earlier, made him understand."

The physician heaved a sigh. "Perhaps we have both been overly cautious. But it doesn't matter now. The king has arranged for your trial tomorrow morning, and you should know that word spread quickly after the Council meeting. I fear there may be a great number of people present tomorrow who have already decided you are in league with Morgana, or rather she was in league with you."

"Arthur doesn't believe that, does he?"

A troubled expression settled on the wrinkled face. "I'm afraid I have no idea what Arthur is thinking. I've been dismissed from the Council and he has been unwilling to speak with me since."

Merlin's stomach clenched. "I'll tell them you had no knowledge about any of this."

Gaius shook his head. "Arthur is aware that I knew about you and sheltered you."

Merlin opened his mouth but Gaius cut across his protests.

"I am quite willing to face the consequences of my actions. Arthur deserves that much truth, from both of us."

Cold metal touched his forehead as Merlin closed his eyes and leaned against the bars. "Yes."

Arthur sat at the table in his bedchamber, turning the golden hilt of the sword in his hands over and over, staring at the shining blade as if it held answers to questions he had not yet fathomed.

For as long as he could remember, he had watched his father rule alone, trusting no one, and had determined there must be a better way. Arthur believed it was fear instead of strength that isolated his father. He refused to accept his father's warning that everyone close to the throne had an agenda, that each one would demand something from the crown. As much as Arthur loved and respected his father, he had decided to rule the kingdom in his own way, to put faith in those he trusted, and he had. Camelot had paid a high price.

Morgana had brought the kingdom to its knees repeatedly. Agravaine set fire to the city and let barbarians inside the walls. Even Guinevere, whom Arthur loved above all others, had brought shame on him and on his kingdom with her betrayal. Through it all Merlin had been Arthur's rock, the person lifting him up in his darkest hours, the person he could count on, always by his side, never asking anything in return. So he had believed.

His only consolation now was that even his father had not seen through Merlin's disguise. Despite Uther's swift and uncompromising attitude to any hint of magic, he had laughed with the others when Merlin burst into the Council chambers and announced he was a sorcerer. And Uther's reaction was as sceptical as anyone's when the witchfinder pointed a finger at the boy.

Arthur's chamber door opened and he looked up to see Guinevere standing on the threshold. Her eyes took in the sword in his hands and the supper plates laid out beside him, food untouched.

She came forward and seated herself on the arm of his chair to place one hand on his shoulder. "You've not eaten."

"I'll eat in a little while, I promise."

"Gaius asked to speak with you."

Arthur ground his teeth together. "It's late. Whatever he has to say can wait for another day."

Guinevere's hand tightened on his shoulder. "Are you going to speak with Merlin privately before … before the trial?"

Was she here to plead her friend's case? Gwen and Merlin were close friends, perhaps she had even known about the magic. She had seemed shocked at Merlin's confession, but Guinevere had fooled him before: he had not so much as suspected there was anything more between her and Lancelot when the handsome knight returned from the dead.

The king shook his head. "No." What Merlin had to say he could say to the court.

"Perhaps you should delay the trial until you have an opportunity to come to terms with Merlin's confession, so that your mind will be clear when you confront this situation in public."

"My mind is clearer now than it has been in many years."

Her brow furrowed and he looked away from her, eyes drawn again to the golden hilt in his hands as his thumb rubbed across the engraving.

"It's late, Guinevere. You should get some rest."

"We both should." She stood and moved toward the bed they had shared since their wedding night.

"I may be up for a while. It might be best if you slept in the queen's chamber tonight."

The hurt expression on her face made his chest clench but he kept his expression neutral.

"Arthur –"

"I'll see you in the morning, Guinevere."

A flock of butterflies had taken up permanent residence in Merlin's stomach. Despite his attempt to shut out the regrets and what-ifs filling his mind the previous night, he had slept only fitfully, waking several times, hair plastered damply to his forehead and his breathing fast and shallow. He had imagined or dreamt every possible reaction Arthur may display at the trial. Merlin had even considered making his friend believe he had been enchanted the previous day and this was all a mistake, but Gaius was right: Arthur deserved the truth.

Merlin held to that conviction as he was escorted from the dungeon, through the palace corridors, to the throne room. When he saw the room filled with people, he was glad Gaius had warned him. A buzz of conversation blanketed the huge hall. The air was close but it was not the dense heat that caused sweat to trickle down his back.

Conversations halted as he passed, to resume behind him in whispers. No one would meet his eyes. People he had known for years, who had cursed his clumsiness or greeted him with smiles turned away from his gaze as if afraid of catching his attention. The only ones not to look away from him were members of the king's Privy Council who stared back with a mixture of hatred and fear that made Merlin cringe inside.

The guards escorted him to stand directly in front of the raised dais where Arthur and Gwen were seated on thrones side by side. Gwen's wary expression when her gaze fell on him cut at his heart.

Arthur met his eyes steadily without a hint of what he was thinking as he fired a series of questions. They went through the same events that had been brought up at the Council meeting the previous day: Agravaine's murder, Morgana's defeat, Uther's death, the Dorocha, the Lamia, the dragon that had been unleashed on Agravaine's troop and how it had come to be free.

"Did you intend that monster to attack the city?"

"No." Merlin put every bit of sincerity into the denial.

"Did you know it would?"

Hesitation, then. "I knew what might happen but I thought I could stop it."

The buzz of talk in the room grew louder and Merlin could feel fear turning to anger.

"Are you in league with Morgana?"

"No."

"Yet you have already confessed that you were aware of her changed loyalties but chose not to expose her."

"I couldn't reveal her treachery without revealing …"

"Your secret? You endangered us all by concealing her allegiance to protect yourself?"

"I had to keep my secret to stay here, to protect you." Surely Arthur could understand that.

"You intended to stop Morgana by yourself the way you intended to stop the dragon?"

"Yes."

There was a barely perceptible shake of Arthur's head. "Why did you try to stop them?"

"For you."

"So that I would be king? A king sympathetic to you?"

Merlin held Arthur's gaze desperately, willing him to see, to understand. "Yes, and because I'm your friend."

There was a flicker of something behind Arthur's cold expression, or maybe Merlin only imagined it.

"If you were truly a friend, why wait to tell me the truth? My father has been gone for almost a year, yet still you hid your secret. Was that in my best interest, or yours?"

For the first time since the questioning began, Merlin had no answer.

Arthur stood and slowly drew his sword. Merlin's eyes widened at sight of a golden hilt etched with words that spelled out a choice: peace or war. The king tossed the blade and it rang against the slate floor as it skidded to a stop at Merlin's feet.

He clenched and unclenched his fingers, forcing himself not to rescue the beautiful sword from such disrespectful treatment. Merlin lifted his eyes to the king standing above him.

"How did this sword get into that stone?"

Merlin lifted his chin. "I put it there."

"Why?"

"It was waiting for you."

Arthur caught his breath before his eyes narrowed. "Is it magic?"

"The sword has great power. It was forged in a dragon's breath."

Those closest to the weapon flinched, though a few people pressed forward for a better look.

Merlin kept his gaze on Arthur, watching as the king's eyes flicked briefly to the sword.

"And your purpose in putting this weapon in my hand was to trick me into accepting an item of magic?"

"No."

"Your purpose has always been to see me on the throne in the expectation that I would lift the ban on magic and thereby set you and your kin free?"

"Yes. But –"

"You hoped to have a place in this kingdom at my side once magic was practiced again?"

"Yes."

A sardonic grimace twisted the corners of Arthur's mouth. "I presume you planned to take a more prestigious position than that of my manservant?"

"I'm proud to be your servant, Arthur, until the day I die."

The king's closed expression faltered for the first time since Merlin had been brought to stand in front of him. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Sorcery is illegal in Camelot, banned on pain of death. By your admission you are guilty of this crime so your life is already forfeit."

Merlin felt his insides screaming in protest and he was surprised that outwardly he made no sound. He thought he heard Gwen gasp but the roaring in his ears drowned out everything in the great hall except Arthur's voice.

"However, I find myself moved to mercy in this case." There was a wry twist of self-loathing in the king's face. "You are banished from Camelot, never to return. If you are sighted within the borders of my kingdom you will be put to death."

"No. Please. Arthur."

Merlin's words sounded faint in his own ears but the king must have heard because the muscle in his jaw twitched again.

"Take that sword with you. I do not condone the use of magic."

Merlin's head dropped. He felt the pull of the blade's power but raised his gaze back to the king's face. Although that hilt was as familiar to his hand as his book of magic, although the blade hummed with power that called to him to take it up, the sword was Arthur's now.

"No. The sword is for you. Even if you never change your mind about magic, about," Merlin swallowed, "about me, this sword is yours."

Then he turned his back on the sword, on Arthur and Gwen, and walked sightlessly through the press of people crowding the hall, no longer noticing how they shrank away from him. He had not even seen Gaius in the room, though he knew his guardian would have been there. Merlin passed outside, down the palace steps, across the courtyard, beyond the city wall, and through the lower town. He found himself on the worn tracks outside the main gate; tracks that had brought him to the city full of hope so long ago.

He paused, looking around uncertainly. He had not taken anything with him, not clothes or food or even the tiny wooden dragon his father carved for him. He felt as if time had slowed around him, though it was not his magic but only his thoughts frozen inside his head. People passed by him coming and going from the city, baskets full and baskets empty, and more than one cart driver cursed at him for standing in the midst of traffic, not moving.

Then he felt hands take him by both arms, hands more gentle than the rough shoves of annoyed passersby. The hands steered him off the road onto the grassy area beneath the trees.

"Sit down, my boy."

Merlin stared at the wrinkled hands that gripped his right arm. "Gaius?" He wrapped his arms around the white-haired old man and felt the familiar red robe enfold him in a hug. He stepped back when he remembered how weak the physician had been and how easily he tired if he stood for too long. "You should sit down."

"You should both sit down, my friend."

"Gwaine." Merlin turned to his left to give the dark-haired knight a one-armed hug and pat on the back and receive both in return.

Then Merlin helped Gaius to sit on the ground with his back against a tree trunk and sank down beside him.

Gwaine set down two large packs before dropping to a crouch in front of him, a worried expression on his normally easy-going face. He was wearing his boiled-leather armour rather than chain mail and his well-used black jacket rather than the red cape which had come to look natural on him.

A clatter of hooves against packed dirt grew louder and they looked up to see several members of a Camelot patrol returning to the city.

"Merlin, my friend, we should go," Gwaine said as he straightened.

"Where are we going?" Merlin asked as Gwaine pulled him to his feet.

The knight looked at him for a moment, brow furrowed, then held one finger up to feel the breeze. "That way," he pointed.

Merlin nodded and looked down at Gaius, still seated on the ground.

The old man reached out a hand for Merlin to help him up, then he enfolded his ward in another hug. "I'm going to miss you, my boy."

Merlin felt tears gather at the realization that he was not going to see his guardian, his foster father, for a long time, if ever again. He tried to respond but the words choked him so he silently clenched his arms tighter around the frail form under the red robe.

When they finally drew apart, one wrinkled hand brushed at a tear on Merlin's cheek. "Take care of yourself."

Merlin squeezed the thin shoulders beneath his hands. "You take care, Gaius. I'll be in touch, I promise."

Gwaine slung both the packs he had carried over his shoulder.

"I'll take one of those." Merlin reached out but Gwaine indicated a smaller bag still resting on the ground.

"You can carry the food and medical supplies Gaius packed for us."

"Medical supplies?" Merlin sent a puzzled glance toward the physician.

"You have learned enough to bargain your skills as a healer in exchange for shelter." A spark of pride shone in the old man's eyes beneath the sadness of their parting.

Merlin straightened his shoulders and gave a slight nod. "Thank you, Gaius."

As he and Gwaine walked further into the woods away from the well-travelled road entering the city, Merlin looked back over his shoulder to see his guardian standing where they had left him, arms tucked into the wide sleeves of his red robe. Merlin lifted one hand and stumbled over a tree root before he turned his attention back to where he was going, keeping his eyes fixed on Gwaine's back as they walked further and further from Camelot.

They stopped at the bank of a stream wide enough and swift enough for the water to be clear but small enough to ford easily. Merlin opened the pack he carried to find bread and cheese while Gwaine refilled both their waterskins.

The sun had crossed over their heads so it must be past midday, though Merlin had no sense of time having passed. He was thirsty but the food did not look appealing. He passed the bundle to Gwaine in exchange for a full waterskin.

"You should eat," Gwaine said. "To the best of my knowledge you haven't eaten since yesterday." He crouched in front of Merlin and held out a piece of bread.

That was probably true. Merlin tried to remember yesterday but it felt like his life before this hike through the trees was a dream, nothing was real except putting one foot in front of the other, following the dark-haired knight.

"Should you be here?" Merlin asked as he dutifully bit into the bread.

One dark brow raised. "Where else would I be?"

"Playing soldiers. You swore an oath to protect Camelot's king, to protect the kingdom."

Gwaine's expression darkened in a way Merlin had not previously seen. "I won't follow a king who banishes the only friend he has."

"But you swore an oath."

"You think that means anything to me?"

"Yes." Merlin's eyes searched the face across from him half hidden under locks of long dark hair, a mustache, and a stubble-coated chin. For the first time in two days Merlin felt certain of something. "You're a knight now, what you were always meant to be, and you are pledged to protect Arthur."

"Who's going to protect you?"

A chuckle escaped Merlin. "I can take care of myself, you know."

Gwaine opened his mouth before his brow furrowed and he closed it again.

Merlin set aside the waterskin and the bread and stretched out one hand to grasp his friend's arm. "You have to protect Arthur when I'm not there to do it. To keep Camelot safe." When Gwaine hesitated he added, "Please, for me."

The dark-haired knight stared at him for a long moment, then he grasped Merlin's forearm in return and gave a sharp nod. He glanced up at the sky. "I'd better be heading back then."

"Here." Merlin picked up the bread and cheese and held it out.

Gwaine looked down at the food. "You eat that." He fixed the younger man with a stern look. "As a matter of fact, I'm not leaving until you do."

"It will be dark before you get back as it is."

"Then you better eat quickly."

As Gwen approached the Council room door, balancing a tray of food and pitcher of wine with practiced ease, one of the helmeted guards moved to bar her entry to the council chamber.

"The king said he was not to be disturbed." He made no effort to bow.

Gwen squared her shoulders under the silk dress she was not used to wearing and looked the man directly in the eye. "You will let me pass."

"The king's orders –"

"I am the queen. Stand aside."

For a moment the guard stared at her from under the helmet which concealed his hair, forehead, and nose. Gwen wondered if he intended to defy the serving-girl-turned-queen, but at length he dropped his gaze, stood aside, and opened the door for her. Gwen swept past him without allowing her relief to show.

Arthur sat at the table which was covered in piles of parchment, quill and ink untouched beside him, his head in his hands. His tousled blond hair showed how often his fingers had raked through it. The loss of colour in his complexion and lines etched around his eyes and mouth emphasized his resemblance to his father.

"Arthur," Gwen said softly, though her voice sounded loud in the still and silent chamber.

The blond head jerked up before Arthur busied himself with quill and parchment.

Gwen set the tray by his elbow. "It's nearly dark and you've not eaten yet today."

Arthur looked up from his papers to give her a thin smile and dutifully tore off a tiny bit of bread. "Thank you, Guinevere."

He swallowed the bread but Gwen frowned when he ignored the chicken legs and refilled his goblet instead. The candle beside him had burned to a stub so she took up a fresh one to replace it.

Arthur's hand shot out to grab her wrist before she could remove the guttering candle. "A servant will tend to that, Guinevere. There is no need for you to deliver food, either. Next time send one of the maids." His mouth twisted wryly. "Surely we have enough servants left for that."

"Arthur –"

"I appreciate your concern, Guinevere, but please, I need some time alone."

She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off again.

"I promise I will eat."

He was not angry with her, not the way he had been when he banished her, not even cold the way he had been when they fled Ealdor together. Instead his face remained impassive. She wanted to put her arms around him, to listen while he poured out his doubts and fears, to offer and receive comfort for her pain as well as his, but he had rarely been one to share his feelings. She loved him, anyway, though it hurt to be shut out.

With a sigh, Gwen set down the candle and moved toward the door. She paused on the threshold to look back. "I will see you later tonight, then."

"Perhaps." He made an effort to send her a smile but it barely touched his mouth and his eyes remained bleak. "Do not wait up for me, Guinevere."

She squashed her disappointment at being asked to sleep alone again tonight, gave her husband a sad smile, and left him by himself as he had asked.

Gwen expected to find Gaius in his chamber. She also expected he would be sad at the loss of his surrogate son, maybe even angry, but she did not anticipate utter devastation when the old man lifted his head from his arms to see her standing at his door. He looked as tired and broken as when they carried him from the cell Morgana had locked him in with Elyan and Gwaine. His lined face appeared ancient.

Her questions backed up in her throat and instead of demanding answers as she had intended, Gwen walked over to pour a cup of water and sat beside the old man on his bench while he drank it.

"Is he … is he all right?" she asked quietly. A twinge of guilt tweaked her conscience. Merlin had been there for her when she struggled to lift the hand cart that held all her possessions, steering the cart out of Camelot, leaving the only home she had known and nearly everyone she held dear, but today she had not been there to see him leave. "Is he gone?"

Gaius set down the cup and stared at into it. "He and Gwaine left this morning."

"Gwaine?" But of course, the former sellsword was a friend of Merlin's. "He'll take care of Merlin, then?"

A short, sharp laugh escaped from Gaius's throat. "Merlin can take care of himself."

"Oh. Right." Gwen tried to set aside what she knew of Merlin – ordinary, cheerful, gangly Merlin with his odd neck scarves and worn brown jacket and boots – a feat that had eluded her for two days. "It's all true, isn't it." It was not a question. "Did Gwaine know? About Merlin, I mean."

The old physician shook his head. "No one in Camelot knew except myself and Lancelot."

"Lancelot?" Lancelot had known and not told her? But then, Merlin had not told her, either. She had been as completely fooled as everyone else. More, perhaps, since she had known him better than most. "He was my friend, Gaius. He seemed like such a lovable person."

"He is still the same person, Guinevere."

The sharp tone made her turn a shocked look on the lined face next to her, normally so kind and understanding. "I'm sorry. I only meant that he seemed so … so harmless."

Gaius passed a hand across his face. "I am the one who should be sorry. It was not my intention to snap at you like that." He patted her shoulder. "How is Arthur?"

Gwen looked down at her hands as they fiddled with the fine lace which trimmed her satin gown. "He wanted to be alone. I know he's hurting, Gaius, but he won't talk to me."

The old man squeezed her shoulder and leaned closer. "I know you are hurting, too, Gwen. Please know that Merlin never intended anyone to suffer because of his secret. That is partly why he waited so long to tell the truth."

"It's just –"

They both looked up when the door to the physician's chamber swung open. Gwen was surprised to see Gwaine but Gaius merely sighed.

"He sent you back already?"

The knight tossed long, dark hair back over his shoulder. "Yes. Some gibberish about oaths and protecting King Arthur."

One white eyebrow raised. "Gibberish?"

"Well, there may have been some truth in it." Gwaine's deceptively keen glance searched the lined face. "I made sure he ate and was a safe distance from the city. He'll be fine, Gaius."

White hair swung forward to hide the old man's face as his chin dropped, but he nodded.

"My lady, are you all right?"

Gwen's startled gaze moved to Gwaine's sympathetic face. "Yes. Thank you, Sir Gwaine."

The knight regarded her for a moment and then gave her a bow. "Can I escort you to your quarters, my lady?"

She glanced at Gaius but he looked so beaten that she could not bring herself to interrogate him further. Besides, Gwaine had not known the truth about Merlin despite their friendship and perhaps he would understand her fear and uncertainty better than Gaius.

With a final squeeze of the old man's thin shoulder and a murmured farewell, Gwen left the physician seated on his bench and allowed Gwaine to escort her from the chamber.

When they were alone in the corridor, she turned to him. "What did you think, when you heard? I mean about Merlin?"

The knight shrugged and gave her a speculative look. "I wasn't entirely shocked, and to be honest I don't think Percival was, either. Something that Lancelot let slip once, well, I think he might have known."

"He did. Gaius told me that just now," Gwen said softly.

Gwaine nodded. "Ah."

"But were you … did it change how you saw him?" Her eyes searched his face, looking for any trace of the fear and doubt that had plagued her since Merlin's revelations in the council meeting.

"Not really. Although I decided never to play dice with him again."

The surprise of that comment shocked a laugh from her. Gwen tipped her head to the side as she regarded the good-looking rogue who had flirted shamelessly with her on their first chance meeting. She had seen him fight in the tournament, knew from Arthur's praise how skilled a fighter the sellsword-turned-knight was, had seen and heard him swagger around the citadel boasting of exploits with weapons and women, but she also knew he had a kind and noble heart. Suddenly she found herself pouring out her fears about magic and sorcerers, her shame about being so completely fooled by someone close to her, her doubts about what was real and what was an act and why Merlin had lied to her.

For all his constant chatter, Gwaine was a good listener. He offered neither judgement nor advice as she talked. By the time they left the silent, darkening corridor outside the physician's workroom to walk toward her own chamber, Gwen felt that a tightness in her chest had eased even though her questions had yet to be answered.

When they reached the door to the queen's apartment, Gwen laid one hand on the dark-haired knight's arm and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

She was surprised by the faint blush that tinged his face under the dark stubble.

"It was my honour, my lady." He took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

Gwen smiled at the courtly bow he gave her, her first genuine smile in days, and gave him a queenly nod of acknowledgement in return.

When she turned to enter her room, she saw the king standing at the end of the corridor, watching them.

Arthur was nearly to his chamber, his eyes smarting from candle smoke and too much time spent poring over reports he could not focus on. At length he had decided there was no point in staring at words his mind was incapable of processing and he determined that he would seek out his wife. They had slept apart the previous night for the first time since their handfasting and, despite what he said to her earlier, he had no intention of sleeping alone again tonight or of allowing her to do so. She was hurting, maybe not in quite the same way as he was, but they could comfort each other.

He turned the last corner into the hallway that led to the queen's chamber and halted to see his wife kiss Gwaine. The knight returned her gesture by kissing her hand and Arthur saw Guinevere smile in a way he had not witnessed for at least two days, her head tilted up to look at the handsome knight.

When they saw him, the king locked down the feelings of jealousy and betrayal he knew were unworthy of either his wife or his knight along with his longing for company this evening. Gwaine, he noted, was not wearing the chain mail and red cape of a knight. Arthur was unsurprised when he got a a sardonic nod in place of a properly respectful greeting before the dark-haired man turned and left.

The hopeful smile vanished from Guinevere's pretty face and she was watching him anxiously as he approached her. "Arthur."

He forced the corners of his mouth up and bent to brush his lips across her cheek. "Good night."

He felt her eyes on his back as he proceeded down the corridor to his own room, leaving her standing alone outside the door to her chamber.

Thank you for the favourites, follows, and reviews - I do appreciate every one.

Also thanks to MythologyStar, Signal27, and dmarie for title suggestions.