No Better Assassin

A/N: Thanks once again for the great response I've been getting for this story. I was really nervous about posting it. I really, really love feedback. I love hearing what people's favorite part is (if you are so inclined). I even like hearing about if something isn't working right or if something is confusing. Sometimes feedback gives me a great brainstorm and helps with my writing. For example, a comment made by the wonderful Mediatrix about Chapter 2 really helped me cement how I wanted to play out the magic reveal in this chapter.

The way things stand now, I'd say we'll be getting back to Arthur and Gwaine either during the next chapter or the one after that, depending on how long the rest of the "hovel" scene ends up. Then we can really get into the meat of the story. I hope this part is interesting nonetheless.

And no, in case you are wondering while reading, there will be no non-canon pairing of Merlin and Morgana. Sorry Mergana fans! (But you can still wear your goggles if you want to...)

Thank you all for reading! :)

Chapter 3: Kin and Kindness

Morgana continued to stare at Merlin's face long after the shimmer faded away and his eyelids closed. Shaking her head as if waking from a dream, she shoved the unconscious Merlin's head away from her once more. He swung from his wrists like a pendulum for several moments.

Well, what do you know? Arthur's little pet has magic. The irony of it made her laugh out loud. Her magic-hating brother with a sorcerer servant, right under his nose all this time!

Of course, that's if you could call the pitiful flicker she'd just witnessed magic. It didn't surprise her that Merlin's power was so weak: the man couldn't even walk a straight line without tripping over his own feet. How could he possibly wield something as powerful and mighty as magic with any skill?

Snorting, she thought, Gaius probably taught him a few basic healing spells he remembered from before The Great Purge. Merlin certainly couldn't have learned much; there were no magic books in Camelot to study from. She knew because after she'd finally discovered her own gifts and understood what they were she had looked for some herself.

The thought of those first few terrifying months—of setting things on fire with her mind and the powerful nightmares she'd suffered—led Morgana to another, and frankly more possible explanation: Merlin had an untapped latent ability.

Perhaps he was a warlock and didn't even realize he possessed magic yet. Morgana didn't know for sure how old Merlin was, but it had been seven and a half years since he came to Camelot and she guessed he was about 17 or 18 summers then. That would put Merlin in his mid-twenties now. That would be a little late to come into one's power if you were born with it, but it was not unheard of, especially for witches and warlocks with lesser ability. And being in an environment that completely banned magic of any sort certainly would have kept those abilities hidden and locked away, she mused.

Yes, this made much more sense, because she could not see Merlin willingly doing anything that would go against something Arthur believed. He was more loyal to him than her brother's stupid hounds!

Besides, she'd been around Merlin enough times in the past to know that she'd never detected any magic emanating from him before. But today, in those few moments before Merlin had surrendered to the sleep of the healing spell, it was almost as if his magic had responded directly to her magic…as if her magic had pulled his to the surface.

Morgana smiled as she approached her hearth to heat her supper. As she bent to stir the stew in the pot over the fire, a memory popped up, unbidden, temporarily obscuring her vision:

She opened her bedroom door to find Merlin, staring at his feet, holding a bottle of potion. Barely daring to look at her, he stepped inside.

"Gaius asked me to deliver this." Merlin's voice was soft, kind, and sad as he met her eyes.

Suddenly it was Morgana who could not meet Merlin's eyes. "I don't need any potion, thank you."

Merlin's eyes turned toward the open doorway, a precursor to leaving. But before he could even shift his weight to move, she pleaded, "Merlin? Ignore what I said last night. I had a nightmare; I was upset."

"I know. I haven't said anything to anyone." His voice was solemn, his eyes wide and earnest. For a long moment, their eyes connected and she felt…she didn't know what she felt, although it disturbed her.

Turning her back, she walked several paces away from Merlin, frustrated and embarrassed by her weakness in front of him. "I'm sorry; it's usually Gwen who has to deal with me when I'm like this."

"I don't mind. Maybe I could help."

Morgana choked back a sob. "I doubt that."

There was a long pause before Merlin replied, "You'd be surprised."

Morgana looked over her shoulder just in time to see Merlin shutting the door behind him and turning to face her. "I understand. I know how frightening this all must be for you…especially for you."

"Why especially for me?"

"You're the King's ward…you know his hatred of magic better than anyone."

Morgana stifled a gasp. "That's what you think has been happening to me? The dreams, the fire…you think it was magic!" Her voice sounded breathy and terrified even to her.

Merlin was quick to shake his head. "I'm not saying that."

"But it could be, couldn't it?" she demanded.

"I really wouldn't know…but there are people who do."

"Who?"

Merlin approached her at last. "What about the Druids? They help people like you."

Disappointment nearly crushed Morgana's soul. "None of their kind would dare show themselves in Camelot!"

"No…but I know where you can find them."

Morgana's vision cleared and she dropped the long-forgotten spoon back into the stewpot. Merlin was the first: the first person to try to help her unravel the mystery surrounding her gifts.

So much had happened since that day…their friendship had splintered and fractured a hundred times over. But this… This changed everything. She and Merlin were kin now in a way, bound by the ties of magic.

She knew that Merlin's loyalty to Arthur ran deep…but what if he didn't know what he was? If Merlin did not yet know he was a warlock, then he was not aware that he was fighting against his own freedom. If Merlin didn't know he had magic, then there was still a chance he could be turned to support her cause. She could help him along; teach and mentor him, as so many High Priestesses had done before her. If she succeeded, she would have another spy in the castle, one who could prove much more useful than Agravaine could ever be.

It was worth a try, she thought.

More than 24 hours passed. Morgana knew Merlin's healing process would take time, but even she was surprised it was taking this long. She supposed he must have been much closer to death than she had realized at the time. No matter. He was on the mend now and would be soon be helping her cause one way or another.

Slowly, she walked in a circle around Merlin's body. She decided it couldn't hurt to be cautious. "Drycraeft ungebunden, ac becriepp. Drycraeft aslupan ond ne forgrap." Thrice around him she walked and chanted the spell, and then Morgana's eyes flashed gold. She stopped and placed a hand on the center of Merlin's chest and tried to sense his magic. Sure enough, every time she would come close to touching the tiny flame of power inside of him, it would fade away as if it had never existed.

She could have bound Merlin's magic, sure…but this way was kinder, not as painful. In fact, if he were not yet aware of his magic, then he would notice nothing at all. She had experienced was it felt like to have one's magic bound as part of her High Priestess training, and it was very unpleasant. She really didn't wish that experience on anyone with magic; not even Merlin. Or at least not while there was still a chance to make him her ally.

Next, seeing she would have a fully healed Merlin on her hands, she set about ensuring he could not escape. He might not be brutishly powerful like Arthur, but he was sneaky, and she preferred not having to constantly watch her back.

Still, she mused, he was already chained. A full body spell would not be necessary. It didn't make sense to waste her strength; enchanting just a few key muscles would be enough. Walking behind Merlin, she placed her hands flat against his shoulder blades. "Breostgethanc acwedhe ne se banloca. Banloca mane hiereth breostgethanc." Morgana's eyes glowed gold for a moment before they faded back to ice blue again.

Next came the muscles in Merlin's upper arms and then finally his legs above the knee. He certainly wouldn't be able to break free of his bonds without the strength of his upper arms and shoulders, nor would he be walking anywhere without the control of his legs.

Satisfied with her work, now all Morgana had to do was wait for Merlin to wake up.

Consciousness came slowly to Merlin. He could sense things around him, but his eyelids would not even so much as flutter, forget about moving anything else. Yet it was not like before, when he was dying. There was no pain; in fact, he felt great. It was simply as if his mind awakened before his body could catch up, as if it had to take time to remember how to work.

Merlin took this opportunity to just listen to his surroundings. He could hear the crackle of the wood in the hearth across the room and a breeze rustling through the trees outside the hut. But what he didn't hear was the sound of another person breathing and he realized suddenly: Morgana was not there.

Perfect, he thought in grim satisfaction. She'd left him alone and she didn't know about his magic. It would be the ideal time to escape. It amazed Merlin how time and again everyone he knew seemed to underestimate him. Still, he had to think that this time he was grateful.

If only he could get his body to move… Sucking in a slow shallow breath, Merlin concentrated first on getting his eyelids to open. He needed to ensure Morgana was gone before he attempted to free himself. Finally, his lids peeled open a crack, just enough to allow Merlin to see, but not enough for anyone else to tell he was awake. The view confirmed that Morgana was not around unless she was behind him. Turning his neck slightly, he peered over his shoulder. Nope, not there either.

It was then that feeling started returning to the rest of Merlin's body. Good timing, he thought, a ghost of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. Oh, how angry Morgana will be to find me gone; to be thwarted by a servant yet again!

Now, let's see what we can do about these ropes, Merlin thought, looking up at his tied wrists. He could tell that his magic was nowhere near recovered, but then the healing spell Morgana had cast was for his body, not for his magic. That would return in time. Still, the power needed to break the ropes was trifling; he should easily have more than enough.

In his mind, Merlin reached for his magic…only to find in surprise that it did not come forth. Instead, it slid away from him like it was a magnet that had been flipped, pushing back every time he pulled. He could sense it, could tell it was there…but it was elusive, like the word on the tip of your tongue you cannot seem to find.

After several frustrating minutes, Merlin gave up. Something was very wrong with his magic, but he would have to sort that out later. He still needed to escape. It would take more time, perhaps, but only a simple rope attached to a metal chain suspended him. With enough friction, he should be able to fray the rope enough to snap.

Merlin pushed upward with his legs to give himself enough slack on the rope to work at it…except nothing happened. Correction, he could feel the strain in the balls of his feet and power running up his calves, but then…nothing. Dumbfounded, Merlin looked down at himself and tried again. And again. The muscles in his thighs didn't so much as twitch.

He grabbed two fistfuls of rope, determined to pull himself to a full stand, but that didn't work either. This time, although his fingers were almost cramping from the strain and his forearms were shaking, anything above that was not cooperating.

Suddenly he knew why his body wasn't working the way it should…and his heart started pounding. Morgana had enchanted him. He'd known something like this would happen to him if he left himself defenseless!

Immediately a spell that would release him sprung to Merlin's mind and he called his magic to cast it. It slithered away from him like a serpent. An edge of panic slid across his mind before he tamped it down harshly. Now was not the time for hysterics; he needed to make this work!

Taking a deep cleansing breath and focusing, Merlin imagined a ring of bright blue in his mind slowly forming around his magic. It crept slowly so as not to startle the flickering flame, the ends of the curved line growing closer and closer to touching until the circle closed, completely surrounding the magical spark. He imagined the ring closing in on itself, coming closer and closer to the center, ready to absorb the spark…when it suddenly extinguished itself and disappeared.

A wave of cold dread rippled down Merlin's body. He now knew with terrified certainty that his magic not responding to him was no accident. Somehow, some way, Morgana had discovered that he had magic, and had cast a spell to block it.

Spots swam before Merlin's eyes as he forgot how to breathe for several moments. What did it mean? How did she find out? Her treatment of him was bad enough when she thought of him as just the clumsy meddlesome oaf Merlin. What unspeakable things would she do to him if she realized that he was really her sworn enemy Emrys?

Never in his life had he felt so helpless.

It was at this unfortunate moment that the hovel door opened and Morgana entered, carrying a bundle of herbs and some bread. Her smirk widened as she took in the panicked look on Merlin's face.

She placed her burden on the table and sauntered over, standing right in front of him, purposefully invading his personal space. Instinctively, Merlin tried to back up, but his uncooperative legs tripped over themselves instead.

"Ah, I see you have discovered the enchantment." Morgana's voice dripped with smugness.

Merlin fumbled for a moment before he could tentatively right himself, using the toes of his boots to inch his legs forward to bear his weight again. Steeling himself for Gods knew what, he spit back, "I have."

Morgana laughed aloud at Merlin's sullen tone. "You didn't honestly think that I would leave you alone and unguarded without some sort of insurance you couldn't escape, now did you? Did you really think I'd be that stupid?"

"One could hope."

Morgana patted her palm against Merlin's cheek condescendingly. "Well, now you know better." She tilted her head to one side and studied him. "How are you feeling?"

"Other than the fact that half my body doesn't work right, I feel fine, thanks."

"You're welcome," Morgana replied, knowing full well that Merlin was being sarcastic. "After all, I did just save your life."

"And I'm quite sure you did that out of the kindness of your heart, too."

Morgana shrugged one shoulder and eyed Merlin innocently. "It's possible."

"But not bloody likely."

"Well, at least one good thing came out of it…" Morgana teased.

"And what was that?" Merlin snarked.

"I know your secret." Morgana's smile was triumphant.

Merlin felt his heart do a stutter-step and then start beating double time against his ribcage. He was usually no good at deception, but this time his life literally depended on it.

Insolently, he demanded, "What are you talking about?"

"You have magic."

Wisps of panic threaded through his veins at her words. Gods. She knew. She knew!

Merlin widened his eyes as if this notion was completely shocking to him. Indignantly, he declared, "No I haven't! That's insane, Morgana!"

"But you do, Merlin," she insisted. "I felt it. I saw it."

"That's not possible!" Merlin's voice rose an octave as he told the outrageous lie.

Morgana saw the fear in Merlin's eyes and completely misinterpreted it. "I know…" she soothed as if she were speaking to a frightened child, "it's hard to accept, what with being Arthur's pet servant and living in magic-hating Camelot."

"I don't have magic!"

Morgana shook her head pityingly. "Merlin. While you were unconscious, I cast a spell on you to determine if you had magic. Your eyes turned gold, Merlin. You know as well as I do what that means."

Merlin's eyes widened further, and his breath came in quick pants as he hyperventilated. He was shaking all over, truly petrified now. She knew about his magic and he was helpless to do anything about it.

"You really didn't know, did you?" Morgana spoke conversationally, as if she weren't witnessing Merlin having a nervous breakdown right in front of her. "That doesn't surprise me. What chance would it have had to blossom in such a stagnating environment as Camelot?"

After a couple of completely suffocating moments of true terror, the words Morgana was saying to Merlin started to sink in. She thought he didn't know! And if that's what she thought, then certainly she didn't know he was Emrys. He might be able to get out of this situation yet…

"Yours did…" he refuted.

"Yes, well…I am a bit of a special case, I admit. My magic is very powerful. Yours, however…" Morgana grinned mockingly, "…is not."

"This is all a lie, Morgana. Something you've concocted to try to turn me against Arthur. It's not going to work."

Morgana sighed and walked toward her washing table, grabbing the piece of glass she'd enchanted to reflect like a mirror. Merlin really could be a stubborn git! Returning with it, she held it in front of Merlin's face. "You don't believe me? Watch."

Again, she incanted the spell, "Ic i abene drycraeft to acydhan."

Even as he watched, he saw his own irises flicker with a dull hint of gold; not at all like the bright glowing color he knew he was capable of producing. It must be because my magic is still weak. For some reason, this thought actually made him feel better. She did not know his true power, or his true identity. Of this he was now sure. But now, he had a part to play, and he was going to play it out to see where Morgana was trying to lead him.

"I…I…"

"Not going to try to deny it again, are you Magic Boy?" Morgana gloated as she set the looking glass aside.

"But…"

"It's so sad realizing you've chosen to side with the wrong Pendragon, isn't it?"

So that was her game: turn him against Arthur because he had magic. Well, whether it was the prudent choice or not, he would never betray Arthur, even in disguise. "The hell I have!"

"All that loyalty wasted; given to a man who hates you."

"Arthur does not hate me."

"He hates your kind, Merlin. Our kind. Like it or not, you and I are kin of a sort. We both have magic, and we would both be condemned for it if we were in Camelot."

Merlin curled his lip in distaste. "Well, you would, certainly."

"And so would you, Merlin. Do not be so arrogant as to believe that the son of Uther Pendragon would spare your life simply because you are his servant."

"So then I don't use magic." Merlin would have shrugged if he were able to move his shoulders. "Wouldn't be that hard. Can't miss what I've never had."

"It's not that simple, Merlin. You are a warlock, not a sorcerer."

"What's the difference?"

Morgana rolled her eyes at this. Honestly, how did an idiot like this end up with magic? "A sorcerer is not born with magic. They learn their craft through many long hours of study and training. A witch or a warlock is born with magical ability."

"So?" It was almost amusing to Merlin to get a magic lesson from Morgana, of all people.

"So once your magic awakens inside of you, it will start to trickle out. You won't be able to help it, and you won't be able to control it. At least, not at first. You remember the fire in my room that time? My magic caused that. It wasn't until I started working with Morgause before I understood how to control it and bend it to my will."

"I don't feel anything, so I doubt if that's going to be a problem for me."

"You don't feel anything right now because I have enchanted your magic not to work properly. If you even knew how to search for it inside yourself, you'd notice it running away from you."

"How exactly does magic run away?" Merlin couldn't help asking the obtuse question; it was just way too much fun messing with Morgana...

"Merlin," Morgana glared at him, annoyed. "You're missing the point. The point is that your magic is dormant no longer. It'll start leaking out of you and you'll give yourself away. Is that really the life you want to live? Constantly looking over your shoulder, never knowing if today will be the day you accidentally reveal your magic to Arthur? You're around him constantly, and even he isn't so dense that he wouldn't notice if his bed curtains spontaneously combusted."

"I assume you're offering me an alternative?"

Morgana nodded. "I can take you under my wing, train you. Teach you how to use your gifts."

"And join you on your quest to take over Camelot, I'm sure. Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"What do you find hard to believe?"

"That you would be willing to help me, unless it was right over a cliff. You blame me for the death of your sister and for the end of your short-lived reign, you said so yourself. You hate me because I had to poison you to save Camelot. Why in the hell do you think I'd believe that you'd want to help me?"

"I am willing to put those things aside to help my magical kin. I would not want anyone magical to have to suffer through the fear and uncertainty that I did: wondering what is wrong with you, being terrified of being found out and wishing you could just go back to being normal. We are the same, you and I. We are alike."

Merlin bristled at her pronouncement. "Magic or not, Morgana…I will never be like you. I will never betray my friends, the people who love me. I will never betray Camelot."

"Even if its king would see you burned you at the stake for no other reason than how you were born?"

Merlin lifted his chin defiantly. "Not even then. I will never, ever betray Arthur."

Morgana's face morphed into a sneer. "You ought to be careful of what you say, Merlin. You may just end up eating your words."

A/N: Okay, I hope I am not offending anyone who actually knows how to read Old English. I'm sure I'm butchering the heck out of it with these spells!

Drycraeft ungebunden, ac becriepp. Drycraeft aslupan ond ne forgrap. - A magic unbound, but hidden. Magic that slides away and cannot be grasped.

Breostgethanc acwedhe ne se banloca. Banloca mane hiereth breostgethanc. - Mind speaks not to muscle. Muscle shall not hear mind.

Ic i abene drycraeft to acydhan. – I command the magic to reveal itself.