Merlin's touched seemed to do him some good. Merlin could feel a sort of echo of their earlier connection, a sort of exchange of energies, a warmth and calmness spreading through them. Arthur's breathing began to steady as he held Merlin's level gaze, reassuring blue eyes meeting newly minted gold.

Again, Merlin didn't know how long the connection lasted. Eventually the unnatural wind in the room stopped blowing and the beakers settled down. Arthur's breathing slowed and evened out and the gold faded from his eyes, leaving them bright with unshed tears but their normal light blue color. Merlin wanted to pull Arthur to him, hug him and comfort him, but he knew Arthur usually didn't do well with acts of affection or displays of emotion, so he settled for just holding his wrists, making sure Arthur knew he was there. Finally, Arthur pulled a hand away and wiped at his face with his sleeve, breaking the eye contact and the moment.

"Merlin, what the hell is going on?" he asked, his voice rough. Merlin jumped up to get him a glass of water to avoid answering. "Merlin. Why didn't you tell me you were a…a sorcerer?" Merlin flinched at this. He sounded less angry now and much more hurt, betrayed.

"I wanted to," he said honestly. "But I didn't want to put you in a position where you needed to lie to your father for me. I may have no love for Uther, but he's still your father and I know you love him dearly. And," he added, "I wasn't sure exactly how you'd react. In the beginning, I knew you'd have me executed. Later I knew you may not want to have me killed, but your sense of duty and your loyalty to your father would dictate that I had to be. Recently, I've considered telling you, but I didn't want to come between you and your father."

Arthur was pacing back and forth through the middle of the room, trying to avoid stepping on papers. Frowning, Merlin waved his hand over the mess, his eyes glowing gold, and the papers all flew back to their original stacks. Arthur whirled around to stare at Merlin, who looked steadily back at him. Arthur looked away quickly and went back to pacing.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"You were injured," Merlin supplied. "Badly. There was no chance you would've survived. Magic was the only way to save you, and I knew that."

"You used a spell to heal me?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" he asked, stopping to look at him. "What do you mean, 'sort of'?" Merlin shifted uncomfortably, not really sure how to explain.

"Well…my magic is sort of different than most kinds of magic," he began uncertainly, not really wanting to go into the details of the whole "Emrys" thing right then. "I don't always need spells to do what I want to do, and sometimes my magic acts of its own accord. It was sort of instinctual, I guess. I didn't use a spell. I just sort of flooded you with magic and hoped it would work. And it did work, but…"

"…but?" Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, and he shifted uncomfortably. Gaius answered for him.

"He has somehow managed to gift you his magic."

Arthur turned to stare at Gaius now, eyes bugging out of their sockets.

"He what?"

"I believe Merlin infused your body, mind and soul with magic. So much so that it has become a part of you," he explained, coming forward to peer at him curiously.

"How is that possible?" Arthur asked, sounding thunderstruck.

"I don't know. It's certainly unprecedented, but it's the only explanation. Judging by the mess you made of my rooms, you have magic now."

"I don't…I can't have…I'm not a sorcerer, Gaius!" Arthur insisted.

"No, you're a warlock," Merlin put in. At Arthur's baffled look, he continued. "A sorcerer is someone who chooses to acquire and learn magic, invoking it from the powers of the Old Religion. A warlock is someone who comes by their powers naturally, developing them involuntarily usually in their teens or twenties, but sometimes earlier or later. Not everyone with magic chose to be that way."

"You could hardly say that I came by these powers naturally, Merlin," Arthur scoffed.

"Maybe not, but you didn't learn them, and you aren't borrowing them from the spirits of the Old Religion. You got them from me."

"Which are you?" Arthur asked.

"I'm a warlock," Merlin said. "I was born with magic."

"When did you develop your powers?"

Merlin shook his head.

"When I say I was born with magic, I mean it. I was able to move objects with my mind before I could talk."

"Is that…normal?" Arthur asked, displaying his complete ignorance of all things magical.

"Not at all."

"Merlin is unprecedented in many ways," Gaius said. "He is the only person in history to have exhibited signs of magic from birth. He is the only person to have his magic act independently, without his control and direction. He is the only person to have ever created another warlock." Arthur saw that Merlin looked incredible discomfited by Gaius' little speech, as if he didn't want Arthur to know these things.

"And why is that?" Arthur asked Gaius, keeping his eyes on Merlin.

"That," Merlin cut in quickly, "is a story for another time. Right now we need to be figuring out what we're going to tell your father." Arthur groaned and sank onto the stool vacated by Gaius, head in his hands.

"My father," he muttered darkly. "Well, we obviously can't tell him the truth. I highly doubt he'd have me executed, but it still couldn't possibly end well. What did you tell the knights?" Merlin hesitated before answering and Arthur looked up at him.

"I didn't really have to tell them anything," he said. "They saw it happen."

"You healed me in front of all the knights?" he asked incredulously. "Are you insane?"

"Your intestines were on the ground, Arthur, spilling out between your fingers. I didn't really have the option of moving you to a more discreet location," Merlin snapped back. "I told you, my magic mostly acted on its own. And I've talked to the knights. Gwaine, Leon, Elyan and Percival all accepted it right away. Leon talked to the other four and most of them said they would keep quiet as well. Sir Paul might be a problem, but I think I got through to him."

"I sure hope so, Merlin," Arthur said darkly. "As angry as I am that you kept this from me for so long, I would really prefer not to watch you burn at the stake." Merlin grinned cheekily at him for a moment. "What?"

"You just admitted that you like me," Merlin accused.

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin," Arthur scoffed.

"You do, just admit it!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about and I admit to nothing."

"You never admit to anything, you prat."

"I'm a prince; I don't have to, idiot."

"Boys, this really isn't the time for your bickering," Gaius interjected, chuckling lightly. "We need to determine our story. Uther will need to know something soon. He was told that you took a blow to the head in the fight, Arthur, and that's why you came here before reporting to him."

"We need to find a reason to sequester you for a few days," Merlin said.

"Wow, that was a big word, Merlin. Sure you know what it means?" Glare. "Okay, why?"

"If these powers last, you're going to have to learn how to use them. Just like any warlock coming into his abilities, your magic is tied to your emotions right now. It's unpredictable. It can burst out of you at any time. You need to stay away from people who aren't friendly with magic or you'll give yourself away. You need to have as little contact with your father as possible, and when you see him you have to remain calm."

"Merlin, I've been training as a diplomat since birth, I think I know how to keep a lid on things," Arthur assured him.

"Not showing emotions and not feeling them are different things, Arthur, and they will affect your magic differently," Merlin insisted. "Believe me, I know. Luckily, you have my magic so I know exactly what you're feeling and what's happening to you. You need to trust me. You can't just keep your face blank and hope nothing happens. If you start feeling angry, your magic will react. You legitimately have to stay calm and focused."

"Around my father?"

"I didn't say it was going to be easy."

"So how ill do I have to be to be confined to my rooms for a few days, Gaius?"

"I'll say that your head injury is more severe than we originally thought. Merlin, could you use magic to create the illusion of a serious contusion?" Merlin's brow furrowed in thought, then he ran up to his room and came back with a book.

"There might be something in here," he muttered. "If not, I can always make up a spell. I seem to have a knack for that." He threw a mischievous grin at Gaius who looked back disapprovingly, but still with that undercurrent of fondness and appreciation. "If it really comes down to it, we can ask Gwen if she can do some fancy makeup work."

"Uther trusts my word," Gaius said. "I can convince him that you need serious rest and should be disturbed as little as possible. You will still have to speak to him at some point, Arthur, but we should be able to keep it short and superficial."

"Aha!" Merlin shouted, poking a page in his book rather violently. "This should work. Come here, Arthur, and sit still." Arthur moved to sit on the bench beside his manservant, watching him warily. "Oh, don't look so terrified, prat. I'm good at this, remember?" Arthur scoffed, but actually did feel a bit reassured. Merlin took a deep breath and held a hand out over the right side of Arthur's head. He mumbled a stream of words Arthur didn't understand and opened his eyes, which were immediately flooded with a rush of molten gold. A strong jolting sensation ran through Arthur's stomach, as if something inside him felt Merlin's magic and was drawn to it. When the gold faded, Merlin smiled, examining his handiwork.

"Very good, Merlin," Gaius said, nodding in satisfaction. He pulled Arthur to his feet to examine him himself. "We'll wrap it and make it look legitimate, then we'll go see your father. Remember, be calm."

"No time like the present, I suppose," he sighed. His father. The king. Uther Pendragon. The bane of all those with magic. He could handle this. Right?