Reactions, reunions and fallout in this chapter, but don't worry - the plot should kick in properly very soon, and of course the Merlin/Arthur relationship will start developing further. Hope you enjoy and please review! I like to know what you think ^_^

The room is utterly silent following Merlin's dramatic plea, but the momentary peace doesn't last long; as though everyone in the throne room had been a taking a breath at the same time, they all let it out in a sudden uproar of outrage and shouting undercut by hushed and urgent murmurs. This would never have happened in Uther's court, a part of Arthur thinks sourly – they just don't fear him as they did his father. The rest of him is still stunned by the enormity of what Merlin's just asked of him, the position he's now been put in.

He doesn't really know how to feel about it. On the one hand, Merlin is a sorcerer, and he shouldn't have to live in secret, hunted, hated; on the other, magic has done him great wrongs throughout his life, just as many times as it has saved him. The law against magic is decades old. Arthur has lived with it for his entire life, grown up with his father's hatred and his strictures hanging over his head, and it has had ample time to seep out into the rest of the kingdom. And here Merlin is, asking him to flick it aside as though it means nothing and turn the entire order of the kingdom on its head. He feels a little torn, a little shamed, but mostly what he feels is anger – anger that Merlin has left his side for so long, abandoned him while he was clawing desperately to keep his throne and his kingdom together after his father's death, when he needed him, abandoned him for all his parting promises, and that when he finally comes back to him, to his rightful place, it is only to ask for this.

The worst thing about it is the anxious sincerity in Merlin's expression, lip caught between his teeth, leaning towards Arthur as though to sway him simply with the intensity of his presence; the worst thing is that it could almost work.

Arthur looks around the room and reads the disquiet and discontent in all the watching eyes upon him, the ingrained wariness brought rising to the surface at every mention of 'sorcery', and now 'freedom' as well. They're all of them waiting to see what he will do, and not many of them appear optimistic or well-disposed; it's easy to see how his father had become so paranoid before the end, a paranoia that had proved itself justified with his murder.

Arthur grits his teeth and makes a decision.

'This audience is over,' he declares loudly, already striding across the room. 'I will retire to my chambers; you are all dismissed.' He nods at Sir Kay. 'Make it so.'

Merlin opens his mouth to speak, but Arthur cuts him off with a warning look.

'You always have to make trouble for me, don't you,' he hisses, taking Merlin by the arm as he passes and all but dragging him forcibly from the room without a backward glance. He releases him once they get out into the corridor and past a couple of turns, away from everyone except the servants about their business; he strides on past Merlin wordlessly, throwing him a look that dares him to not follow, and sure enough Merlin trails unresistingly after him.

The walk to Arthur's chambers is silent and strained, and everything about it just sets Arthur's temper burning shorter and faster, acutely aware of Merlin behind him, Merlin's eyes on his back. He throws back the door to his chambers and heads straight to the table where he knows a pitcher of wine will be waiting, as always, and pours himself a goblet, taking a long, immediate swallow. He slams it back down with more force than necessary and takes off his crown, tosses it carelessly down beside the goblet and scruffs a hand through his hair, glad to have the uncomfortable weight eased. He braces himself against the table for a moment, breathing and trying to force his anger back down. He glances back over his shoulder and sees Merlin hesitating over the threshold, looking around; he gives Arthur a faltering smile when he sees him looking.

'So you didn't move into your father's rooms, then,' he says, stepping inside at last, hands fidgeting awkwardly at his sides.

'No,' Arthur says shortly, jaw tight and back turned. He doesn't need to see Merlin's expression in the ensuing silence to know what it is – uncertainty, disappointment, desperation, all held in the downturn of his mouth.

'Arthur,' Merlin tries – and god, he's really trying, pleading voice, heart-in-his-mouth, all of it – and it's just too much; Arthur snaps.

'What were you thinking?' he snarls, whirling on Merlin. 'You couldn't have waited and raised the subject in private first before deciding to cause havoc in the middle of my throne room?'

Merlin swallows, sheepish. 'I, er, I'm sorry about that,' he says, at least having the good grace to look contrite, 'but it's something people need to hear.' His chin lifts defiantly. 'This can't go on; someone should have stood up and said that long ago.'

Arthur studies him carefully, his nervously clenched hands, the confrontational slant to his shoulders, the determined set of his jaw, Adam's apple bobbing with the motion of his throat. It's a familiar look for him; how many times have they argued just like this, Arthur thinks, how many times have they re-enacted this very scene in this very position but with different subjects, simpler questions? He moves away round the table, tapping his knuckles once to the hard surface, and gestures Merlin into a chair. He lifts his goblet for another sip, watching him over the rim.

'I can't repeal the ban, just like that,' he says.

'Why not?' Merlin demands, sitting forward in the chair, hands clasped earnestly in front of him on the table. 'It's the right thing to do.'

Arthur almost laughs at him. He wonders if everything really is that simple in Merlin's mind, so black and white, how easy it must make things for him.

'Because that's not the way the system works,' Arthur says with a tired twist to his mouth. He's become intimately acquainted with the runnings of the kingdom in the last couple of years and knows that little is accomplished without endless debates and complaints – in his experience people do not like decisive action, or at least his councillors don't. His father had always made it look so clear-cut and easy.

'You're the king,' Merlin points out, 'you can do what you like.' He raises his eyebrows in challenge and voices Arthur's thoughts. 'Uther did.'

Arthur almost snarls at him but bites down on it. 'My father always did what he thought was best for the kingdom,' he says instead, low and warning.

'What, murder and subjugation?' Merlin asks fiercely, leaning farther forward, daring.

'Keeping order,' Arthur snaps, anger spilling over. 'Putting a stop to people who threaten Camelot's safety.'

'People like me, you mean,' Merlin says, smiling faintly.

Arthur wants briefly to punch something, maybe Merlin, in his frustration, but instead he rubs wearily at the bridge of his nose.

'No,' he says quietly, struggling to regain his equilibrium, 'no, of course not. Not you.' He leans against the mantelpiece, staring into the dregs of his wine and trying to find the words to make Merlin understand.

'Look, Merlin,' he begins, not looking up, 'magic is dangerous. You've can't deny that – you know what it can do.' He flicks a glance in Merlin's direction. 'You've killed with it before. It's dangerous, just like any weapon, and though that doesn't make it inherently evil, I can't have it running loose in my kingdom.'

Merlin's mouth thins out and he stares up at Arthur unflinchingly. 'So the law will stand? And what about me, then? Are you going to execute me?'

There's no trace of nervousness in Merlin now, not in his steady voice or serious eyes; it drives Arthur to distraction the way he just can't stop pushing.

'Have you hit your head recently, or do you just become more stupid by the day?' Arthur asks in exasperation. 'I seem to remember already going through this conversation years ago.'

'If you keep the ban in place, I don't see that you have much choice. Didn't you always say that even a king cannot be above the law? Either you lift the ban or you abide by it and have me executed; you can't have it both ways.'

Arthur grimaces at the ultimatum, trying to think. 'I can give you an official appointment,' he suggests, knowing it's not the right answer, 'a sanctioned magician of the Crown and excepted from the ban, under my protection.'

Merlin barks out a harsh, humourless laugh and tilts his head. 'And what makes me so special, that I should get rewarded while everyone else gets the headsman's block?' he asks bitterly.

'For god's sake, Merlin,' Arthur bites out, 'why must you always be so difficult? I'm trying to save your life; do you live just to try my patience?'

Merlin's eyebrows rise. 'You patience?' he asks incredulously. 'Do you honestly think that this is about nothing more important than my trying your patience?'

'That's not what I meant,' Arthur snaps, 'and you know it.' He turns, paces a little, restless. Conversations with Merlin never turn out the way he means them to; whenever Merlin's around his temper always runs too high, turns too easily, and he can never find the right words. He feels all over the place, fighting to make himself understood and his emotions getting out of hand; he feels like a teenager again – that special ability of Merlin's to disarm him at every turn, take him constantly by surprise; he doesn't feel very much a king anymore.

Arthur sighs and looks Merlin in the eyes. 'You heard them all back there,' he says softly, 'you've been in Camelot, you must have seen it – the unrest, the fear. The people aren't ready for this.' He pauses and holds Merlin's gaze, weighing his thoughts, and his voice drops lower. 'Neither am I.'

Merlin's eyes widen a bit at that and he looks a little lost. He stares at his hands, swallows. Arthur stares at them too, long and slender, a faint and healing cut across one knuckle. He wants to cover them with his own, promise that everything will turn out alright; he wants to put his head in his hands and just not think about it. He's tired, so tired of this – fighting, struggling and getting nowhere, locked in endless arguments and words, words, words. This is nothing like the fighting he knows – steel in hand, blood and sweat and nothing to rely on but instincts and reflexes and a good weapon, with only two outcomes, victory or defeat. Kingship is a different kind of battle altogether.

Merlin looks up at him in the silence, throat working. It seems they've both run out of things to say, and that's the problem – Arthur has no answer for Merlin, nothing to say to him and no easy way out. He places his goblet on the table, the noise of it uncomfortably loud, and looks away.

When the door to the room slams suddenly open and Morgana barges in, Arthur can't even find it in himself to be annoyed as he usually is – he's just grateful for something to break the tension beginning to thicken in the air. He gives her a glare anyway, for form's sake, and moves to take up a place by the window, putting distance between Merlin and himself.

Morgana stands, brought up short, and stares at Merlin.

'You're really back,' she says, an odd look on her face. A frown creases between her brows and she opens her mouth to speak when Gwen appears in the doorway behind her.

'Merlin!' she gasps, hand over her mouth.

'Gwen!' Merlin's eyes light up at the sight of her and he stands, opening his arms as she rushes at him for a hug. 'It's good to see you,' he says, pulling her close, 'I missed you.' Arthur crosses his arms as he watches them, the stupid grin on Merlin's face, the way he softens around the edges for her; he feels uncomfortably voyeuristic even though he knows they're just good friends. He glances over at Morgana but she doesn't notice, staring at Merlin as though trying to work out a puzzle and failing.

Gwen buries her face in Merlin's shoulder for a moment before pulling back and smacking him round the head.

'Ow, hey,' he protests, still smiling.

'That's what you get for disappearing like that,' Gwen says, voice suspiciously thick and eyes a little red. 'We thought- I thought- We all thought you'd come back, after, but you didn't and we waited so long and you never sent word and...' She sniffs, shakes her head and smacks him again. 'You're an idiot.'

Arthur snorts. 'That's what I've been saying for years,' he drawls from across the room. Merlin looks up at him over Gwen's shoulder, meets his eyes for just a little too long.

'I'm glad you're back,' Gwen says. 'Things have been...'

'Yeah,' Merlin says roughly, glancing back up at Arthur.

'What happened to you?' Morgana asks, suddenly speaking up. She tries a smile but it looks off to Arthur, a shade uncertain.

Merlin is oblivious, blowing out a breath and untangling himself from Gwen. 'God, where to start? When I left, I-'

A sharp rap at the door interrupts him. 'Your majesty,' comes a voice through the thick wood, 'I must speak with you.' Arthur recognises it at once.

'Kay,' he greets as he opens the door. Kay bows briefly, mostly for the benefit of the others inside the room. He doesn't look happy; he looks, in fact, distinctly displeased, his jaw set tight and teeth practically grinding.

'A word, your majesty, in private,' he requests, grey eyes glancing past Arthur and fixing on Merlin, narrowed and unhappy.

Arthur tries hard not to sigh. 'Of course,' he says, 'one moment.' He gives Morgana a pointed look as Kay backs off to wait politely. 'You should follow his example – he knocks.' He closes the door to the sight of Morgana rolling her eyes and giving him a dirty look.

*******

Arthur feels better out in the corridor with the cool stone at his back, at least until he finds himself face to face with Kay's wary disapproval. He's a full head shorter than Arthur, and not as well-built, but Arthur pities anyone who underestimates his strength and ferocity, with or without a blade; Arthur doesn't relish the prospect of this conversation.

'What is going on?' Kay begins, straight to the point as ever. 'The entire castle's in an uproar, and after the scene in the throne room just now...' He raises a brow. 'Who is this man? He's clearly a sorcerer, and yet you welcome him.'

Arthur does sigh this time. 'Merlin's an old friend.' He snorts. 'Used to be my manservant, if you can believe that.'

Kay's mouth twists downwards, unamused. 'So you're in the habit of befriending sorcerers now?'

'I owe him my life, many times over.' Arthur injects a hint of steel into his voice and stares Kay down. 'I'm not going to execute him.'

'He's a lawbreaker by his very existence!' Kay exclaims in disbelief.

'And I should punish him for the way he was born? It's different with him, alright?' Arthur shifts uncomfortably, trying not to question his own motives too hard or ask himself just why it is that Merlin's so different, afraid he might find that he's being every bit the hypocrite that Merlin said he was. 'It's complicated, but I will not see him harmed.'

'And his 'request'?' Kay asks carefully, gaze steady.

'That I am not at all ready to answer.'

Kay relents into a rueful smile. 'Good; at least there's one thing you're not being rash about. Shall I convene the council tomorrow for discussion?'

'See to it.'

Kay hesitates a moment, which is unusual for him. He fingers the stubble at his jaw and darts a glance up at Arthur. 'Have you considered the possibility that he may have enchanted you already?' he asks reluctantly.

Arthur's brows draw down at once. 'Merlin hasn't done anything to me, of that at least I am sure.'

'But how can you-'

'I am sure, Kay, and that is all you need to know.' He makes it clear from his tone that he considers the conversation over; Kay looks for a moment as though he might fight but thinks better of it.

'As you say, sire,' he says, unconvinced, and then, 'Gaius still needs to see you.'

Never a moment's rest. 'Of course. I'll be right there.'

'And if I may?' Kay asks. Arthur gives him a wry look that Kay acknowledges with a half-smile; they both know that Kay will probably say it whether Arthur wants to hear it or not.

Kay squares his shoulders and draws himself up to his full, unimpressive height. 'I think the sorcerer should be kept under guard.'

Arthur closes his eyes and rubs at the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. 'He's not our prisoner,' he says, 'I'll tell him not to go anywhere and sort him out later.' When he opens his eyes again Kay looks completely, suspiciously neutral, an expression that signifies complete disapproval. Arthur waves him off. 'Don't give me that look.'

'I'm just concerned,' Kay says honestly. 'This sorcerer shows up out of the blue in the middle of the throne room, no one knows who he is or how he managed to get past all the guards and straight to the heart of Camelot unseen, insults our king and is welcomed for it. You have to admit – it doesn't look good.'

'I know. I know how it looks, but it's-'

''Complicated',' Kay finishes for him.

Arthur smiles tiredly. 'Right.'

'You,' Kay says after a moment's pause, shaking his head, 'are a troublesome king.'

Arthur laughs and claps him on the shoulder. 'I know. Give me a minute and we'll go see Gaius.'

'Yes, sire,' he says with resignation.

*******

Merlin starts when Arthur returns. He's sitting again, talking to Gwen and Morgana, smiling, though Arthur notes an edge to it.

'I need to talk with Gaius,' Arthur declares briskly. 'Morgana?'

'I'll come.' She sounds oddly relieved; Arthur nods his approval. Merlin stands as well but Arthur cuts him off quickly.

'Not you,' he says firmly.

Merlin frowns. 'But-'

'Stay here.' Arthur gives him a look that brooks no argument. 'You're not to leave the room until I return.'

Merlin stares at him, jaw clenched; Arthur can almost see the thoughts working behind his eyes. At last he back down with a jerky, insolent bow. 'Yes, sire,' he says stiffly.

Arthur feels a stab of something half guilt and half anger. 'Good,' is all he says.

'Gwen?' Morgana asks, looking to where Gwen's still standing close to Merlin.

'I'll stay with Merlin for a little while,' she says, smiling over at him. Morgana nods but doesn't look happy about it – the ghost of a frown is still there, that odd expression whenever she looks at Merlin.

'Alright,' she says. 'Arthur, let's go,' and sweeps out of the room before him as though she were a queen and he her servant.

Arthur glances instinctively back to Merlin with a raised eyebrow and they share a quick grin before they remember themselves. Arthur gives himself a mental kick; it's far too easy to forget that things are more complicated now and he can't afford to treat Merlin with the same ease he always has, not until this is settled and they know where they stand again. He leaves the room and tries not to make it seem like a retreat, the weight of Merlin's regard heavy between his shoulder-blades the whole way.

He strides down the corridor with Morgana and Kay to either side, all of them grim with the thought of poisoned water reserves and whatever it is that Gaius might have found. Arthur finds it hard to concentrate on what Morgana and Kay are saying as they walk – he does his best to put Merlin out of his mind for a while, focus on the other problems at hand, but it's not as easy as it should be. He's angry and frustrated, with both Merlin and himself; he has a kingdom to run, a kingdom that's falling apart and slipping through his grip, and all he can think is that Merlin's finally back, and despite the trouble he's brought with him, all Arthur can really feel about it is relief.