"Gwaine," Merlin said, very seriously, "Arthur already told you all I know."

The look on the knight's face told Merlin he didn't buy it for a second and was hurt that Merlin thought he would. "I know you better than that," Gwaine countered. "Look, rumours of Dragoon's—Emrys's—appearances here have been flying around the castle. I doubt there's a single soul who thinks he hasn't shown up since the last time everyone saw him because in the time you've been gone, even the people who were doubtful were convinced. You didn't see Arthur, Merlin. He looked hollow. Some of the people who have been around here much longer than you or I have even likened it to when Uther had lost Ygraine."

Merlin stared, surprised. Finally, he croaked, "That bad?"

"I'd say worse, but that would be exaggerating." Gwaine fixed Merlin with a look that Gaius would have been proud of. "I expect Arthur to keep things from us. I really do. But we're friends, Merlin. You know more about me than anyone else here. I've trusted you with my greatest secret and can be trusted to return the favour, you know."

Merlin said nothing, hating himself for his silence but knowing there was no other way.

Knowledge was dangerous, and he didn't want to put Gwaine in danger. Not like he had Gaius.

Gwaine sighed. "I'm not saying you have to tell me everything. I'm just asking you to be honest with me and to stop trying to fool your friends. You do know more about this situation than what Arthur told us, don't you?"

Merlin hesitated, then nodded.

"Knew it," Gwaine muttered. "Then what do you think of it all? Do you really think we should be trusting a sorcerer who's supposedly saved us but who has definitely threatened Arthur as surely as Morgana has?"

"He has saved us," Merlin corrected. "Arthur wasn't exaggerating that bit, and neither was Gwen. And, tell you what, as soon as Emrys explains to Arthur what was meant by that threat, I'll pass it on, all right? Then you won't have to wait until Arthur can gather everyone together to say it."

Gwaine looked at Merlin for a long moment. Finally, "You're on better terms with Emrys than Arthur is, aren't you?"

Merlin shrugged. "I believe him a bit more readily than Arthur if that's what you mean, yes. Mostly because of knowing Will, I think. I know magic better than Arthur because of that. I know that it's something to be respected, not necessarily feared, and I think…. I think Emrys knows that, on some level, and appreciates it. Because I'm willing to accept that magic is only as evil as its bearer."

"And because in Camelot, everyone else seems to instinctively shy away from sorcery," Gwaine concluded, following Merlin's reasoning easily. "Even those of us who didn't spend all our lives here."

Merlin grinned. "That, too."

"So you want to tell me what happened to Arthur to make it seem like he lost Gwen again? Did Emrys threaten him?"

Merlin's smile fell away. "Gwaine—"

"Merlin, you didn't hear the guy. He said there was every chance he would kill the king. Kill Arthur. And you know as well as I do that that would clear the way for Morgana."

"Emrys is different," Merlin argued.

"But we don't know that," Gwaine said. "Merlin, I want to trust your judgement. You always seem to be right even when the truth is absurd. But you're as protective of Arthur as any of us, so how can you support someone who told me—told four of us—that he'll kill one of your best friends?"

The unasked question—What do you know that we don't?—hung in the air.

Merlin was somewhat regretting telling the knights the truth in the forest that day. If he hadn't—if he'd never shown anything but support for Arthur—this would be a much easier argument. There might not even have been an argument, as Gwaine had likely encountered at least one non-corrupt sorcerer in his lifetime.

But while Gwaine was not one to give Arthur undue respect, he was loyal to him. Gwaine had seen too many threats carried out—or attempts made to carry them out—to do anything but take them seriously. All the knights had.

At least, unless Merlin was the one saying he'd kill Arthur when he actually looked like himself. But he supposed he couldn't fault them for that any more than he could fault them for having doubts about Emrys.

He wasn't naïve enough, of course, to think that Gwaine was the only one to have doubts. He might not even have the strongest doubts. (Personally, Merlin thought Leon might, once he heard the story, if only because he was from one of Camelot's noble families and had the upbringing of such.) Gwaine had simply been the one elected to talk to him about it, because he was Gwaine, and of the four knights privy to this knowledge, Merlin was perhaps closest to him. If nothing else, Gwaine was the one he'd dragged along to help with Arthur's quest, and even if the others knew nothing about that, they knew that he and Gwaine trusted each other.

So perhaps it was time for Merlin to trust Gwaine again.

Merlin exhaled slowly. Then, "You said I was on better terms with Emrys than Arthur, and you're right. That's because I know him better. I knew him before Arthur ever did." Merlin bit his lip. Telling such things to Arthur was one thing; to say them to Gwaine was quite another. "There's a reason Emrys always seems to slip past me whenever he turns up in Camelot again."

Gwaine put the pieces together just as Merlin had expected him to: "You're helping him."

Merlin said nothing, for silence would tell volumes. When the entire truth came out, he would regret the pain his playing of this delicate game would cause, but until then…. Until then, he had little choice.

"You trust him enough to help him." There was more that Gwaine was not saying, though Merlin could read between the lines easily enough: You trust him enough to go behind Arthur's back and defy Camelot's laws. You trust him enough to risk your own life. You trust him enough to risk all of our lives, if you're wrong.

"I trust him to save Arthur, Gaius, Gwen, you, everyone. I trust him to save all of Camelot. He has before, and he will again."

Gwaine looked at him for an awfully long time. Finally, "Are you sure you aren't getting in over your head, Merlin?"

No, I'm not. But I rarely am. Still, it was a relief to know that Gwaine trusted him enough to trust Emrys despite his misgivings, and Merlin had no doubt he'd find a way to convince the other knights to do the same. So Merlin mustered a smile and said, "You said it yourself: I've got a talent for spotting the truth, no matter how absurd it is. You don't need to fear Emrys despite what he might have said about Arthur. The truth is, he'd never hurt him of his own free will. I know it."

Gwaine nodded slowly. "I hope you're right, Merlin," he said, "and not just seeing the best in people."

"I'm right," Merlin assured him. Gwaine looked like he was trusting Merlin's word more than anything else, but the fact that he deemed it enough gave Merlin hope.

He just hoped, at the same time, that Gwaine would understand why Merlin had not told him everything when he'd had the chance.


Arthur's afternoon was filled—he was, unfortunately, still playing a fair bit of catch-up after putting off so many things in favour of his earlier searching for Emrys—and he took his supper with Guinevere, so he was not alone with Merlin again until the end of the day.

On one hand, this was a good thing. Arthur dealt with Merlin best these days when he didn't have to put up with him all the time. But things were somehow better between them now than they had been just the day previous. Arthur wasn't sure how much it had to do with the fact that he'd acquiesced to Merlin's request—he'd made it clear to the council that he was willing to take a different stance on magic than his father before him—but he suspected it was due to an entirely different reason.

That reason being that he was finding he could talk to Merlin like he'd always used to.

And their earlier exchange had made him realize how much he'd missed that, even in the short time it had been gone.

Arthur pretended not to notice that Merlin had filched one of his chicken legs, even if he didn't exactly appreciate Merlin's greasy fingers straightening his bedding. "You never told me about the incident with the knights."

"I haven't told you about a lot of things yet," Merlin admitted. "Even for what I'm ready to tell, you weren't quite willing to listen before, and you have to be ready to hear what I have to say."

Arthur knew precisely what Merlin was referring to, of course.

He couldn't help but be somewhat disgruntled that Merlin was right. Again.

"This I do want to hear. All of it. Now."

Merlin hesitated.

"If it's not too much trouble," Arthur added dryly.

Merlin finished what he was doing and moved to sit down on the chest at the foot of the bed. Then he said, "Remember how I said I'd never done anything against you of my own free will?"

Arthur nodded and was about to make a remark about how this appeared rather contrary to that statement when his mind registered the last part of Merlin's sentence: of my own free will.

An icy pit formed in his stomach and he couldn't stop himself from thinking the worst. It wasn't just that Merlin had been forced into something or tricked into it. No, Merlin had been robbed of his free will and controlled. And anyone who controlled Merlin controlled his magic, which was something Arthur could not hope to fight.

If that ever happened again….

"Well, you might remember a couple days a few years ago when I wasn't quite acting like myself," Merlin continued. "It was one of the times Morgana captured me—"

"One of the times?" Arthur interrupted, incredulous.

Merlin shrugged. "I've been a thorn in her side for a while, even if she hasn't worked out precisely how I'm still around. I think she might suspect Emrys is helping me. Since she thinks he's the one that destroyed the Fomorroh so I stopped trying to kill you, I suppose it's a logical conclusion."

As confused as Arthur was about this Fomorroh—though he suspected it to be a creature of dark magic—his overwhelming feeling was one of horror, and from Merlin's expression, he hadn't managed to keep it off his face.

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Merlin hurriedly added.

"Not as bad as it sounds?" Arthur repeated. "You really did try to kill me, and you say that's not as bad as it sounds?"

"Well, it's not," Merlin said defensively. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

Arthur was thinking that, unfortunately, Merlin was right again and he wasn't ready to have this conversation. "You tried to kill me," he said flatly.

Merlin sighed. "Gaius can fill you in better than I can, but the Fomorroh was once used by the High Priestess to enslave the minds of her enemies. Morgana thought it would be excellent if she used it to have me to kill you because I could get close enough to you to do it."

Merlin didn't try to downplay it, as Arthur had expected. He didn't try to explain it away. He didn't offer up distractions.

He simply said it as it had been: Morgana had tried to use him to kill Arthur.

"I had one of the Fomorroh's heads just at the base of my neck," Merlin said, one hand reaching behind his head, no doubt to touch the offending spot. "Luckily, Gaius realized that if he paralyzed it, it could no longer control me."

Arthur swallowed. "And how long did it take him to realize this?"

Merlin pulled a face. "It was after he tried cutting it out and it grew back," Merlin admitted. "But I wasn't acting like myself. Gaius and Gwen…they knew, and they stopped me."

Gaius and Gwen had known?

They'd known that Merlin had tried to kill him?

Merlin offered Arthur a smile. "Gwen says I was a horrible assassin," he said cheerfully, though Arthur couldn't tell how much of it was forced. The majority, he suspected, though Merlin had tried before to inject humour into situations to make them seem less…like this. Usually, he was successful, but this time….

This time, Arthur couldn't even muster up a smirk, and Merlin knew it.

"Sort of like how you think I'm awful when it comes to hunting," Merlin added.

Arthur just stared at him, trying to figure out how he'd never noticed this. Any of this. If not Merlin's magic, then the obvious change in his behaviour that had been evident to both Gwen and Gaius.

When Merlin had actively tried to kill him.

But he hadn't.

He'd been blind to all of it, even to something like this that should have been as plain as day.

"Gaius figures it has more to do with my magic than anything else. That it was strong enough to keep me from being completely overwhelmed by the Fomorroh."

Arthur still couldn't find his tongue, even though he could see Merlin looking at him imploringly.

"It kept bolts from firing," Merlin said quietly, "and threw me off my balance, having me misjudge distances and weight. Gaius and Gwen kept a close watch on me, and some of it was simply good timing, from what they tell me. I don't really remember much." He paused. "Well, anything, actually, from when I was under the Fomorroh's control. I'm going off what they saw and the…evidence of my attempts."

"The evidence," Arthur repeated dully.

"Poisoned pigs, pierced bedpost, corroded sword…." Merlin trailed off. "There were a number of little things." And before Arthur could think to protest Merlin calling such things little, he'd continued, "When I met the knights in the forest, I didn't know how much time I had. Gaius had paralyzed the Fomorroh, and his best guess was that it would last the day, but I couldn't afford to squander the time I did have in case he was wrong. I certainly couldn't afford to be dragged back to Camelot and in front of you. I needed to get into Morgana's hut and kill the mother beast. I needed—"

"Hold on," Arthur interrupted. "Are you telling me you knew where Morgana had been holed up? For how long?"

"Arthur—"

"How long, Merlin?"

"Not until then," Merlin said. "Not for sure. Before that, I just knew she had to be somewhere relatively close to be in contact with Agravaine so often."

Agravaine.

Arthur wished he wouldn't have to be reminded of his uncle so often. "And how long had you suspected him of being the traitor?" Arthur knew Merlin—and Gaius, of course—had been the first one to suspect Agravaine. Merlin had gone so far as to try to prove Agravaine's treachery to Arthur, but Merlin's claims had seemed false at first.

It hadn't been the first time Merlin had been able to spot something he'd been blind to, and now that Arthur knew Merlin's insight was actually tied to something concrete—either his magic or his phenomenal ability to get into trouble, though Arthur wasn't quite sure which—he had no doubts that it wouldn't be the last.

Even if that didn't say much for him.

"Long before that," Merlin answered vaguely.

Arthur glared at him.

In a quiet voice, Merlin clarified, "Morgana didn't put that amulet around your father's neck herself."

The reminder was an unpleasant one—and considering it felt like a knife to the heart, that was putting it mildly—but Arthur supposed that, since Gaius and Merlin would be able to identify magical artefacts and had a much better knowledge than he at the time of what had happened, it was logical for them to realize Morgana was behind it all.

Arthur wasn't sure precisely how they'd realized—or at least come to suspect—his uncle, and he didn't entirely want to ask. He couldn't help but wonder if they'd suspected Agravaine for reasons similar to why he himself had trusted his uncle: he was family, for all that Arthur hadn't seen him very often.

He was family, in a family filled with treachery, and, as far as Merlin would be concerned, an outsider.

Agravaine may not have been related by blood to Morgana, but he had been more her family than Arthur's in the end.

Thinking back on Agravaine made Arthur remember the last he'd seen of him and the report he'd received when he'd sent some knights back along their trail. Some of the bodies of the dead had been collected before anyone had even arrived; others had already been ravaged by scavengers. Many of the remaining bodies had clearly been burned alive, though Arthur had never questioned how until now, and now all he could think of was all the times sorcerers had conjured fire with little more than a murmured spell. But some bodies, like that of his uncle's, had been wholly intact and relatively unmarred.

A misstep in the dark of the caves, Gaius had suggested. A fall—unfortunate for him but fortunate for Arthur and the rest of his band as they were left free to reclaim Camelot—that resulted in a nasty blow to the head. A cracked skull, internal bleeding filling the brain cavity…. He wouldn't have suffered, Gaius had said. If he had not passed away immediately, he would have lost consciousness and never awoken.

Arthur knew Agravaine well enough to know that he wasn't what one would consider clumsy. Not like Merlin. And Agravaine and his men would have had torches just as they had, if not a guide who was supposed to know the tunnels well.

Yet when they'd heard the unmistakeable sounds of them being followed, Merlin had immediately volunteered to go back, confident that he could lose them, give the others enough time to get out, and still be able to catch up. All without being truly caught himself.

So perhaps he had led Agravaine and the others along a merry chase in the caves where they were too intent on catching Merlin—and hopefully, having secured Merlin, then catching him—to watch their step.

But Arthur was no longer as sure of that as he had once been.

Arthur vaguely recalled a similar surmise of the circumstances regarding the deaths of who had appeared to be Agravaine's closest men. He'd never thought to question it. He'd been too grateful to have Morgana gone and Gwen by his side again to wonder about the peculiar circumstances of it all. He had, perhaps, unwittingly attributed some of the inexplicable things to the same thing Morgana had: the mysterious Emrys. But mostly, he'd trusted in the actions of himself and his people and had fully believed he was seeing only the fruits of their victorious fight.

And now he wasn't sure he wanted to ask. Not quite yet.

The possibility sickened him.

The probability sickened him.

To think that Merlin had…had….

"But as I was saying," Merlin finally continued, "I needed to kill the mother beast to truly be free. I did, and I am. But don't think Morgana can do it again, Arthur. For one, she thinks Emrys will interfere again if she tries, and for another, she wouldn't be successful. That's what this proved. My magic would hold me back and trip me up and stop me from doing something I cannot: hurting you. Even the Fomorroh couldn't fully control me, forcing me to use my magic against you, so you needn't worry that someone will someday find a way to do it, because they won't."

Perhaps Merlin hadn't intended for it to sound the way it did, but Arthur couldn't ignore that he was hearing it all another way as well: that Merlin was more powerful than this…Fomorroh, more powerful than Morgana. That he was a force to be reckoned with, a force which could not fought, nor beaten down, nor tamed.

"Some things are stronger than anything Morgana has up her sleeve," Merlin added earnestly. "You must know that my loyalty to you is something that will never change and can never be changed."

Arthur supposed he ought to be grateful that Merlin, under the Fomorroh's influence, hadn't simply killed him as effectively and, no doubt, efficiently as he must have done with Agravaine in the caves, and quite possibly the men outside it, but frankly he was having difficulty fighting down the growing horror of what this all meant.

He'd never thought of Merlin as a murderer before.

He'd never thought Merlin capable of it, to be honest.

Merlin was too…Merlin.

Yet Arthur already knew that the Merlin he knew, the side Merlin had always shown him, was merely that: one side.

He simply hadn't expected, even after finding out that Merlin had magic, that Merlin had used that magic to take the lives of others, yet Arthur was certain he'd put the pieces together correctly this time.

It was rather disheartening, as he'd been using that characteristic as a defining difference between Merlin and Morgana.

Oh, the difference was still there, he knew. What Merlin had done would be little different from what he himself—and the rest of the knights—had done. In battle, killing was necessary. Brutal, sometimes, especially for the newest knights who were still unaccustomed to the demands of their position and lacked the trust in themselves required for a sure, steady stroke of the sword, but undoubtedly necessary when the circumstances were kill or be killed. Kill and triumph, or be killed and fall, and with you, the whole of the kingdom.

Merlin would have acted in defence. If not in defence, then for the good of Camelot. He wouldn't have slaughtered innocents like Morgana.

But he still would have posed a fight that could not have been won with a sword lest its bearer had managed to catch him off his guard, something Arthur was beginning to think would be rather difficult indeed.

If Merlin hadn't been as good at what he did as he was, then Arthur—or at least someone else—would have pieced this together long before.

It was a wonder Morgana hadn't put it all together.

Or maybe she had and was deciding upon the best way to act upon it while they were none the wiser.

"Arthur?"

"Leave me, Merlin." He didn't want to speak to Merlin about this now. This was…. He wanted to cling, for a moment longer, to image of the cheerful idiot he had always thought his manservant to be. The mental picture of a powerful Merlin whose face betrayed no emotion—not even the hint of his usual smile—was chilling, and Arthur wondered if his enemies had ever had any inkling, any sense of foreboding, for what would soon come when they came face to face with the one person they had all underestimated.

"Do you want to hear it from Gaius? Gwen? I can send them to you if you like. If it'll…help."

Merlin thought he was hesitant to believe that the circumstances had been as Merlin had described them. He wouldn't dream that Arthur had realized something he was quite sure Merlin hadn't meant to tell him for a very long time.

"I haven't told you about a lot of things yet."

Arthur was beginning to think that, even if he kept guessing, he would never know much of what Merlin had kept from him, despite Merlin's promise to tell him everything.

Even when Merlin had made that promise, it hadn't quite rung true to Arthur's ears.

Someone so used to keeping secrets did not suddenly spill them all.

"You have to be ready to hear what I have to say."

Perhaps that would be Merlin's excuse for withholding a few of the more sensitive details. Or perhaps he'd conveniently forget them. Or perhaps he would simply repeat what he'd said when Arthur had accused him of not telling him any of this before: that he'd wanted to tell him but couldn't seem to find the right time to do it.

"That's not necessary," Arthur finally said. "I believe you, Merlin. I just need time to think on it."

Merlin looked relieved. "I'll be by later to collect your dishes once you're finished," he said, nodding at the remains of the dinner of which Arthur was quite sure he didn't have the appetite to eat another bite. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

No, he didn't. Not anymore. Clearly he never had, if the number of times he'd gone to Gaius in search of his manservant only to leave on the assumption that Merlin was in the tavern again was any indication. But Arthur didn't correct Merlin. Instead, he waved him away, and Merlin went off, and Arthur was left to stare at his food in silence.


A/N: Perhaps Merlin should have told Gwaine, but I expect he's hesitant to give anyone else the knowledge Morgana was willing to torture Gaius for. As for Arthur…. Well, he did ask, and it's not Merlin's fault he's making the wrong assumptions again when he doesn't keep asking questions. *grins* Many thanks to everyone who has been taking the time to review!