A/N: Clearly I should stop updating when it's after midnight, given the number of mistakes in the last chapter. Ahem. Keep pointing those out, please! With any luck, they're small enough that I can go back and fix them. Thanks to those who have and thanks to those who do point out my errors, and thanks to those who take the time to say something at all. (As is likely true for all people on here, the extra motivation helps me to write faster.)

Also, it seems I wasn't wrong in thinking Arthur didn't know of any connection between Emrys and that old sorcerer by the end of the fourth season, as he hadn't heard the name Emrys until Morgana mentioned it, so thanks to Gee042 and CJBH for respectively pointing that out and checking on that and correcting me.


A week passed.

No one came forward.

No one who really knew anything, at least, and Arthur grew increasingly frustrated as each lead he chased came to naught.

Merlin, for his part, kept his mouth shut. He'd told Arthur far too much as it was. To prevent any chance of another outburst, he hadn't said anything more on the subject. He hadn't even gloated, though he was now thinking he ought to have. Aside from the fact that he was right, Arthur seemed to have been expecting it.

From the number of chores he had Merlin doing daily, it seemed Arthur took his silence to be a product of exhaustion and he wanted to keep it that way. He never liked being wrong.

Merlin, after washing off the horse manure that had managed to cling to him from the stables and happily changing into his last (mostly fresh) set of clothes, sat down at the table where Gaius was reading something by candlelight.

"There's soup in the pot," Gaius said without looking up. "I kept it warm for you."

Merlin groaned; he didn't really want to move, but he was hungry. He snatched up a bowl and spoon and dragged himself over to the pot. By the time he had filled his bowl and sat back down, Gaius had finished reading and was watching him.

"I hate mucking out the stables," Merlin grumbled, taking a spoonful of soup. "I don't think Arthur realizes exactly how much work that is." He paused, then amended, "Well, no, I think he has a fair idea. But he certainly does know how terrible a job it is."

"You could clean the leech tank tomorrow," Gaius said.

Merlin made a face. "How is that going to help?"

"It will give you perspective," Gaius replied, his seriousness melting away into a smile. "You can decide which of your duties is more unpleasant."

Rather than dignify that with a retort, Merlin took another mouthful of soup.

"Arthur's having no luck searching," Gaius said a moment later.

"I know," Merlin said. "But I warned him, so he can't say he never expected it."

"Guinevere told me Arthur's going to send for me tomorrow," Gaius informed him. "She said that she had no doubts that I am loyal to Camelot and that I might deserve some forewarning."

The next swallow of soup scorched Merlin's throat, but he forced himself to speak anyway. "He's going to ask you about Emrys again?"

"That is my suspicion. He hasn't had any luck elsewhere."

"You can't tell him any more. You shouldn't have told him as much as you did!"

"It may not be entirely unwise for Emrys to make an appearance, Merlin. You told me yourself that Arthur knows Emrys has a gift for him from the Druids. He'll be expecting him to show up sometime."

"No, he's expecting the sorcerer he thinks killed his father to show up sometime," Merlin corrected. "I'd rather not have that happen."

"Morgana has made the connection between Emrys and your older self. There is no harm if Arthur makes the same connection as long as he does not realize you are the one with magic."

"But he might. That's the problem. Because if I'm eighty years old and not looking like myself, he can't find me. And if he can't find me, he'll start to wonder." Another spoonful of soup.

"I'll send you out gathering herbs," Gaius said simply. "You may be Arthur's manservant, but you are my apprentice and assistant as well. He will not find it unusual."

Merlin sighed. "Gaius, I don't want to show up until Arthur's finished searching for me."

"And he won't be finished until he finds you. He has no reason to stop, Merlin, and many reasons to keep looking."

Merlin looked at Gaius and knew what the physician did not say. "I have to give him the pendant."

"I fear it is unwise to keep it hidden for long."

Merlin knew what that meant, too: don't keep putting it off. "I'll get some herbs in the morning, then, and sneak back in the afternoon to put in my appearance." He took another swallow of soup. "And if Arthur detains me, Gaius, please, whatever you do, don't tell him I went to the tavern."

"He makes his own assumptions, my boy."

"Let him make different assumptions. He always gives me twice as many chores when I get back from doing whatever important thing I was doing—all because he thinks I spent the day in the tavern. Honestly, he never checks. He doesn't even ask Gwaine if he ever saw me. He just assumes I've gone off and that I should make up for it by working twice as hard the next day. I hardly get any sleep those nights with all the work I'm doing."

"Then I'd suggest you rest up tonight," Gaius said. At Merlin's look, he added, "Just in case."

Merlin drained the rest of his soup from the bowl; it was mostly broth now, anyway. It had been mostly broth to begin with. "This means I won't have time to clean the leech tank tomorrow."

Gaius smiled. "Indeed. But you needn't worry; I'm sure it can wait a few more days. You can clean it when this is over."

Merlin rolled his eyes at those encouraging words and readied himself for bed. Today had been a long day—he'd been working since dawn and it was now well after dusk—and tomorrow would, with his luck, be longer. Gaius was right. He would need his rest. The last thing he needed was to get tongue-tied in a conversation with Arthur, of all people, just because he hadn't gotten enough sleep.


Someone other than Merlin attended to him in the morning, and, truthfully, Arthur didn't hear anything past 'gathering herbs for Gaius' when he asked the boy where his manservant had gone. He knew Merlin had duties stemming from his place as Gaius's assistant and he didn't begrudge that, but he couldn't help but suspect that Gaius had sent Merlin out for the day to get him away from Arthur.

At least it wasn't the tavern. Not that Arthur would entirely blame Merlin if he tried to drown his exhaustion; he knew he was working Merlin hard. Well, harder than usual. But if it kept Merlin's tongue still, Arthur was happy to do it. Not that Merlin needed to actually say anything relating to 'I told you so'. The expression was clear on his face. He'd been wearing a near-permanent smirk all week, and Arthur's glaring had done nothing to lessen it.

But Gaius confirmed the herb story when Arthur called for him later, and he didn't seem surprised that Arthur wanted to question him further on the issue of Emrys. Gaius was intuitive, and he was far from a fool. It was a shame none of that rubbed off on his ward.

"No one is coming forward," Arthur stated bluntly. Gaius knew this already, but it certainly bore repeating.

"Indeed."

He wanted more of an explanation than that. "Have you any idea why?"

"It is quite possible, sire, that Emrys does not wish to be found. I imagine that it is within his power to remain hidden from you if that is his desire."

Merlin had said much the same. "I'm not sure if you've been informed, but Gwaine was told that Emrys had a gift for me from the Druids."

"Merlin made mention of it."

"Would it not make sense, then, for Emrys to deliver it?"

"I cannot wager a guess as to what is on his mind, sire," Gaius reminded him. At Arthur's look, he relented and said, "He may be waiting for the right moment."

"Then he may be waiting for a moment that will never come," Arthur realized. Despite what Merlin thought, being royal—and therefore getting everything that that position entitled him—didn't go to his head. At least, he tried not to let it. Most of the time. But somehow, knowing that someone had a gift for him and was going to withhold it for an indefinite amount of time irked him. He told himself it was for curiosity's sake. His run-ins with the Druids were still few and far between, but they had been civil as late. He certainly didn't think they'd try to do anything rash, like give him something that was meant to slowly destroy him as retribution for his past transgressions.

But perhaps Emrys had found reason to be suspicious, or at the very least, more cautious. Or perhaps he did not wish for any understanding to be formed between Camelot and the Druid people. Or perhaps—

"I believe it would be wise to trust his judgement," Gaius said simply. "If your suspicions of Emrys's identity are correct, then you must be assured that he means well."

Arthur's voice, when he spoke, had gone flat. "You mean that, even if I don't see any reason to put any stock into what the Druids say, Emrys can be trusted because he hasn't tried to kill me yet, despite having ample opportunity."

Gaius was silent. Then, "Yes."

"Would you trust him, Gaius, if you were in my position?"

The answer was the same: "Yes."

"Why?"

"I try to judge people on their actions, sire, rather than by who they appear to be on the surface."

That wasn't much different, Arthur figured, than what he'd done with the knights: he'd chosen men who were worthy of the title rather than only those of noble birth. It was a policy that had served him well, for all that it went against tradition and, undoubtedly, his father's approval. In theory, he would do well to apply that same policy in other areas.

In theory.

But sorcerers….

"Gaius," Arthur asked carefully, "when you said that you hoped I would one day realize how much people did for me—were you referring to Emrys?"

Arthur watched the aging physician carefully, but he showed no sign of unease. "No."

"Who did you mean?"

Gaius lifted his head, just slightly. "You are surrounded by many people, Arthur, and many of them serve you not just because you are the king of Camelot."

It wasn't enough of an answer, but Arthur knew that he would not get much more of one even if he pressed for it. "Do you, by any chance, know Emrys?"

"No. No more than you do, I'm afraid, if Emrys is who you believe him to be, and I have already told you what the Druids say about him."

"Merlin said more," Arthur said. "He said that Emrys seeks to serve someone."

If the information startled Gaius, he didn't show it. "That is a possibility, sire."

"Do you have any idea where Merlin would have heard this, if not from you?"

"I cannot say. Though you may find it hard to believe, Merlin hears much more than he ever says. He has been many places with you that I have not."

It struck Arthur that he did not know how much of Gaius's words were truth. It was disheartening. He'd seen Gaius lie before, to his uncle, but…. "Have you ever heard of the Once and Future King?"

"The term is a familiar one," Gaius allowed, "but I cannot recall anything about it."

Perhaps Gaius wasn't lying to him now. Perhaps Coran had talked to Merlin, and Merlin thought he was protecting the boy from Arthur by keeping his silence. Perhaps he thought he was protecting Arthur himself, since he seemed to believe with inexplicable certainty that Emrys would do nothing to harm Camelot but would do everything to protect Arthur.

"And you've heard nothing from any of your patients about Emrys? Even if not by that name?"

"I'm afraid not. I've heard no whispers of any sorcerers for some time now."

That was perfectly plausible, seeing as no sorcerers had surfaced for some time now. But Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that as much as Gaius looked to be completely truthful, he wasn't. He would never take action against Gaius without due cause, would never have him arrested on trumped up charges of treason or the like, but he could not promise never to doubt.

And even if he hated to admit it to himself, he did doubt.

"You are aware," Arthur said slowly, "of the penalties of protecting a sorcerer." He had little intention of enforcing them, even now, so desperate was he to locate Emrys, especially if there was any chance that Gaius was involved simply by withholding information, but….

"I can assure you, sire, that I only mean the best for you and for Camelot. I realize that there are times when I must breach the confidentiality I grant my patients, if only to disclose important information to you without revealing my source. You know this."

Arthur didn't need to ask a final question—"Are you protecting him, Gaius?"—for the answer was clear enough as it was. "Thank you. That is all. And when Merlin gets back, send him to me."

"I shall, sire," Gaius said, bowing before taking his leave.

Gaius knew.

He must know.

Arthur had no idea how, but he was certain that Gaius knew. If not who Emrys was or where he was to be found, Gaius at least knew something.

But he was equally certain that Gaius's words about his loyalty to him and to Camelot, and his good intentions toward both, were true. However, it was certainly possible for Gaius to mean well and to keep silent on the issue of Emrys. If Gaius believed Emrys to be protecting Camelot, to be protecting him, the king, then he would see no reason to jeopardize Emrys's well-kept secrets. Not when he meant the best for Camelot and her king.

That knowledge, however, was a cold comfort.


Merlin still wasn't entirely convinced this was a good idea, but he was doing it anyway. He'd left the city early this morning—on foot, since he hadn't wanted to deal with the trouble of a horse, despite how much time that would have saved him—and slipped back in just after midday. Though he had some of the herbs Gaius needed—sticklewort, comfrey, nettle, things like that—they were tucked away in a satchel, and with the hood of his (borrowed) cloak pulled low, no one had realized that he was back in the city.

Especially since he hadn't gone in the conventional way.

Gaius had left his 'Emrys' robe where he'd asked—just inside the passageway that led down to the cavern where Kilgharrah had been kept—and, after using the aging spell, he pulled it on and left the cloak and herbs there for Gaius to collect when he could. Merlin spied the walking stick Gaius had left as well and smiled. Trust Gaius to know how long it would take him to get up all those stairs to Arthur's chambers without it.

He had never explicitly planned on intercepting Arthur in his chambers, but it would be a moment before Arthur could call on everyone else if Merlin caught him there—particularly if he'd distracted the guards outside the door—and Merlin didn't want to give Arthur a chance to muster up all his manpower before he got a word in edgewise.

Despite what Arthur said, Merlin didn't think now was the right time to trust him.

Not even with only a piece of the story.

True, Merlin didn't think Arthur would order his execution on the spot, but turning up when Arthur was looking for him just felt like walking up and blurting out the entire truth and thinking nothing would change. Because he wasn't naïve enough to think that Arthur would just accept him without batting an eye. And despite what Arthur thought, he wasn't that stupid, either. Even if Arthur could get over the magic part, there was still the lying part.

It had been necessary. It still was necessary. Merlin knew that, and Arthur would realize it, but it wouldn't make the pain of the lies any less.

Merlin was rather surprised by how easily he could make his way through the castle. It helped that he knew it like the back of his hand, of course. He knew which corridors to avoid and where all the servants' passages were and when they were likely to be in use. Locked doors were no trouble. It was easy enough to distract people who were in his way. Something clattering to the floor here, a door closing there. Little things, mostly. They didn't need to be big things when he only needed the diversion for the few seconds it would take to slip back out of sight.

Merlin was rather relieved to see two guards still standing outside Arthur's chambers by the time he finally arrived. The last thing he would have needed now was for Arthur to have finished his lunch and gone off to the council room or the throne room or wherever else. True, Merlin could have gotten into both rooms without using the main entrance, but he hadn't wanted to chase Arthur all around the castle.

He ached.

That was definitely one of the downfalls of being old.

If he'd thought he could get away with it, he wouldn't have done the aging spell until he'd been much closer to Arthur's chambers, but there were far fewer hiding spots in the main part of the castle and he hadn't thought it worth the risk. True, if someone had seen him like this, he would have been brought before Arthur anyway, but since he was supposed to be brilliant at hiding in plain sight, he figured it would be much better if he could surprise Arthur on his own terms.

Merlin peered carefully around the corner, glad, not for the first time, that his eyesight was no worse. "Leohtbora," he whispered. The torch at the end of the hall flickered to life. The guards noticed this, and one went off to investigate. Predictable, as always. But both guards would move fairly quickly if the flames happened to flare higher, with sparks reaching and catching on the tapestry that hung nearby…. "Bæl on byrne."

It wouldn't take them long to put it out, but by that time, Merlin would be safely in Arthur's chambers.

Arthur didn't look up from his desk when Merlin entered. "You can take the plate away," he said, waving a hand. "I've finished."

There were so many different ways he could start. Something impressive-sounding, like, "I hear you've been looking for me." Except, knowing Arthur, he'd take that as more ominous and throw him in the dungeons straight away. Of course, knowing Arthur, he'd be tempted to do that on principle if Merlin said much of anything. So, Merlin settled for the old standby: act irritable and insult Arthur as much as he could get away with. "I didn't come here just to clear away your mess," he snapped.

Arthur looked up immediately, his eyes widening to near comedic proportions. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again, but still no sound came out.

"Nothing to say?" Merlin taunted. "After all the trouble you've gone to searching for me, you've nothing to say? Should I just leave? Save you the trouble of wracking your brain to come up with anything?"

"I—you—no!" Arthur spluttered. "You really are Emrys, then?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It didn't take Morgana so long to realize, but then again, you always were the slow one." Not to mention Morgana had prophetic dreams, but if Arthur hadn't realized that Morgana's 'nightmares' of the past were products of her magic, either….

Arthur looked indignant. "I am not slow."

"Thick, then. But it's just as well with you. If you didn't have such a thick skull, all those blows to the head would have rattled your wits more than they already have." Before Arthur could come up with another retort, Merlin added, "But you were right to let the Druid boy go, so I suppose that's something."

"You know about Coran?"

Merlin snorted. Trust Arthur to sound so bewildered by something everyone else would have assumed. "He was looking for me, wasn't he? Did a better job of it than you."

"What? When did he possibly have time to find you?"

"I found him," Merlin said bluntly, "the same way I found you. But he at least had the decency to search quietly. You, on the other hand, would have half the kingdom out scouring the woods for me if you thought it would do any good."

Arthur, whose lips had been parted and were likely about to spit out a denial, shut his mouth. A frown crossed his features. "You didn't free him."

"Didn't need to. You arranged that."

Arthur straightened at that. "How do you know all this?"

Merlin just gave him the look that Arthur usually favoured him with—the one that clearly questioned how much of an idiot he truly was. "I knew when your father was ill and what you wanted to ask of me. I knew when Morgana framed Guinevere as a sorceress and you were about to renounce your claim to the throne to be with her. How much do you think I don't know, Arthur Pendragon?" He debated mentioning Arthur's mistreatment of servants but figured he'd be better off using that particular remark later.

Arthur swallowed and didn't answer. Instead, he asked, "Is it all true?" After a split second's hesitation, he added, "Everything the Druids say about you. About Emrys."

To be honest, Merlin had rather been expecting Arthur to ask after his gift. "They think so," he said, "but nothing will be true until it's finished, and it's not finished yet."

Arthur looked puzzled. "What's not finished?"

"What do you think? Destiny, boy! It's not been fulfilled. All that they talk about has not yet come to pass. So the story's not finished. If you'd use your head, you wouldn't ask such idiotic questions."

Arthur looked at him for a moment. "And have you…saved me, like Morgana believes? Have you saved Camelot?"

Merlin smiled. "More times than you'll ever realize. And what did I get in return? Nearly got burned at the stake for my trouble once. That was pleasant. Sat tight in the cell so I could have my say before I left. You don't realize how much I've done, Arthur Pendragon, and some days I wonder if you ever will."

"But…but why? Why do this? Camelot's no friend to your kind!"

"And she never will be," Merlin replied, "unless you can be made to see that we're not all the same and set on destroying you or your kingdom. What I told you when you came to me for help has not changed; I wish that those who practice magic can live in peace."

"But you killed my father." The words were spoken quietly, sadly, in a very un-Arthur-like manner.

Merlin knew he could not tell Arthur the truth of what had happened; not like this, anyway. Not now. Even in light of the truth about Morgana and Agravaine, he would not be inclined to trust the word of a sorcerer. "That was not my intention. I did my best to save him, as I had saved him in the past. The force of death cannot always be held back, even by magic."

Arthur said nothing.

Merlin reached into his pocket and drew out the pendant. He held it out to Arthur. "A gift," he said, "from the Druid people. They mean to make peace with Camelot. While you have done no harm to them during your reign, they are not yet safe in your lands. It is their hope that this will change."

Arthur looked at it warily before accepting it. "When did they give this to you?"

"The boy's mother left it in my care," Merlin replied. "She sacrificed her life to protect it, to keep it safe from those who would use it in ill. Let not her sacrifice, nor that of her family's, be in vain, Arthur Pendragon. Use it well."

Arthur looked paler than before now. "What is it? What does it do?"

"It is the Stone of Æthelu," Merlin answered. "It was long thought lost, but it has been kept safe for many years, and now it lies in your hands. It will allow you, the wearer, to see the true intentions of those around you. If you choose to use it, do so with caution and care. Knowledge is not a simple thing and can be a great burden to bear. You would do well not to shoulder it unnecessarily lest you find yourself no longer capable of trust."

"I don't…." Arthur looked at the pendant again. "I don't think I want this."

Oh, of course. Fear the magical artefact. "Too bad," Merlin snapped. "You were entrusted with it. It's in your protection now. Lock it up in the vaults if you don't want it in your sight, but remember it was given in good faith."

He turned, and Arthur jumped to his feet. "You're not going?" he asked, sounding incredulous.

Merlin stopped and looked back. "Of course I'm going. I'm no use to anyone standing around here."

"But I'm not finished talking to you!"

"Well, I'm finished talking to you," Merlin retorted.

"Guards!" Arthur shouted.

Merlin really shouldn't have expected any less. Arthur was used to getting his way. But when the guards burst into Arthur's chambers, Merlin did what was expected of him as an escaping sorcerer: with nothing more than a wave of his hand, he threw them back (gently enough that he wouldn't hurt them but hard enough to knock the wind out of them) and hobbled (quickly) away. Arthur took chase, naturally, but Merlin was already pulling out the potion Gaius had prepared for him. A sharp right took him into an empty corridor, and he just had to hide the walking stick, pull off the robe, down the potion….

When Arthur rounded the corner, he stopped short. "Merlin! What are you doing here?"

Merlin, who was holding a rather telltale bundle of red clothing behind his back, plastered an innocent smile on his face. "Looking to see if you needed anything before I find something to eat?" he ventured.

"I thought you were out gathering herbs for Gaius again."

"I was. I just…hadn't packed anything to eat, so I came back. I didn't think it would take me very long."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You're never prepared for anything, are you, Merlin?" Then, "Can you at least tell me which way he went?"

"Which way who went?"

"Emrys!"

"Emrys?"

"The old sorcerer! He's Emrys! And he was just here, but now he's gotten away!"

"Oh." Merlin bit his lip. "He, um, didn't go this way. He must have gone straight past."

Arthur frowned at him. "Merlin, I saw him turn down this corridor."

"Are you sure you aren't seeing things, then?"

"Yes, I'm sure. My eyesight is perfectly fine. Yours, on the other hand, clearly is not, if you can't even—" Arthur broke off. "You were at the tavern this morning, weren't you?"

"What?" Merlin blinked. "No! Of course not!"

"Did you think I wouldn't notice if you went earlier instead of later?" Arthur said disdainfully. "Get some food, then, if you can even stomach it. You're useless to me the way you are now. And then you can muck out the stables again."

"I did that last night!"

"And it's the stables. It may not be as bad, but rest assured, Merlin, there will still be work for you to do there. If you think otherwise, I can always have you scrub them down." Merlin knew better than to say anything, so Arthur merely continued, "And since that won't take you very long, you can polish all the knights' boots once you're done, and then…."

Merlin sighed. Gaius was right; this was going to be a long day for him.