Arthur's sheets were now clean, but they didn't feel like it. He shifted in the dark, not feeling the softness of the sheets.
Uther had very little to say, seeing as the sorcerer was dead. Seeing as the sorcerer had taken the wound that was killing his son and made it his own.
Sorcerer.
Merlin.
Arthur shook his head. He accepted the truth, but it felt a little strange to try and put the two words together in his head. After his father was dealt with and servants were cleaning Merlin's and Arthur's blood from the room, Arthur supported the crying Gwen to Gaius's chambers. (He wondered briefly if he would begin to cry too, but he felt too numb to do much of anything.)
There, in the harsh light of day, voice shaking with sorrow, Gaius had torn apart everything they thought they knew about Merlin and replaced it with another Merlin, a lying, sneaking, bold, smart, magic, loyal, snarky, troublemaking…
Or maybe his version of Merlin wasn't all that different than their dead friend.
Gaius had cried, too, and with two people to comfort, Arthur hadn't any time for tears himself. Not just then.
Later, when he was alone in his chambers, staring at the floor where the life had left Merlin's limbs, it all caught up with him.
Merlin, the secret sorcerer, was dead.
Dead.
Dead for Arthur.
His knees buckled, and one of the chairs around the table in his room caught him. Tears began to leak from his eyes, and he tried to hide them from the emptiness of his room by putting his face in his hands.
No man is worth your tears.
Oh, shut up.
But the tears dried. He rubbed away the evidence quickly.
Why did Merlin use magic to save him? He must've known he would die. But then, that was the kind of person Merlin was—ready to lay down his life for a friend, his master. Even a master (friend) who was a complete prat to him most the time. Even if he didn't trust said friend with his secret…
A warlock. A dragonlord. Merlin. Why hadn't he told Arthur any of this? Did he think Arthur would arrest him, turn him over to his father, run him through?
Yes. Yes, he did think that. That's why he hadn't said anything. Arthur knew he could ask Gaius and the medical man would deny it, would give some excuse as to why Merlin never spoke of his magic. But Arthur knew the truth would be behind that; the truth that Merlin hadn't wanted to put his life into someone else's hands. He'd wanted to control for himself whether he lived or died.
Arthur could understand that. After all, Merlin had controlled what happened to Arthur's life, had decided that Arthur wouldn't die, and Arthur didn't like the outcome. Arthur knew that he wouldn't have told Merlin, if the situations were reversed. Arthur wouldn't want him to have to share that secret.
No, what Arthur was having trouble with was the question: wouldhe have arrested Merlin? If the scenario had been different, would Arthur have let Merlin die for his magic?
He wanted to say no. He wanted to say he would have protected his friend. But he didn't know that for sure. Now, of course, there was no doubt in his mind that Merlin wasn't evil. Evil people didn't give up their lives for their friends. Only a truly good warlock would have died to save Arthur, and so, therefore, that couldn't be as much of an oxymoron as Arthur had thought. But before today, if Merlin had told him, would Arthur have betrayed Merlin's trust?
The thought of him doing that haunted Arthur. He told himself he wouldn't have, but it didn't work. So he told himself he didn't know and it didn't matter now, but it didn't work either. It was getting in the way of his grief. He couldn't even go to Gwen or Morgana with this thought on his conscience. He couldn't miss Merlin with it in his mind.
He just didn't know.
Until that night, when he was in his now-clean bed, staring distantly at the ceiling.
If he had been faced with Merlin having magic before today, what would he have done?
He would have had two choices: save Merlin or let him die.
Which would he have chosen? Saving him would have meant that Arthur would have to lie to his father, to everyone. To rethink all his beliefs. And that would have been ridiculously hard. But letting him die… Arthur thought back to Merlin, lying bleeding on the floor, face creased in pain. That wouldn't have bad ridiculously hard; it would have been impossible. Arthur could not have let Merlin burn, let him get his head cut off, let him die a criminal's death. No. If he'd tried to make himself, he would have just gone mad.
He would have saved his best friend. He suddenly knew it. There was no question about it in his mind.
Arthur fell asleep after that. It was an uneasy, fitful sleep, and he turned and cried out as he faced images of dead Merlin and grieved for his friend. But he did sleep, which counted for something, and at least he could grieve.
"No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."
John 15:13
A/N: Fin! I got that verse from the Holy Bible… New American Bible, Catholic Readers Edition. Other versions' translations might not match up entirely. Thanks for reading. Please review.
